Mordecai struck first, a low-quarter blow to test his opponent's defenses. Fengel parried, playing along, not revealing a single weakness of form. Natasha tried to take advantage. Fengel wheeled about, parrying, binding her blade, and giving her a nick along the back of her hand in one smooth motion. She hissed and fell back, shaking her arm.
Fengel wasn't done. Before Mordecai could even rally for another blow the other pirate was back, beating on his own blade. Shock travelled down the hilt, into his numbed fingers and forearm. Mordecai gave ground, step after step, as Captain Fengel fought them both back.
This isn't going to work. The thought was galling. Fengel really was a skilled swordsman, as good as him or better. But the aetherite's Working had him in poor condition; even with Natasha's help, maybe even with half a dozen more men, they would not be able to subdue the pirate captain.
He spat at Fengel's eyes. The other man drew back, automatically bringing up his guard just long enough to blink. Mordecai didn't bother to follow up. He turned and fled, moving back into the press of the crowd. Fengel took a step after him, then turned as Natasha entered the fray again.
The fight dragged on. A quick glance about the deck told Mordecai that things were still evenly matched between the two airship crews. So maybe it's time to make things un-even. Fengel may have been peerless, but everyone knew he had one particular weakness.
Mordecai glanced at the crowd for a handy victim. Lucian Thorne moved about the far end of the deck, flailing away while the giant piratess Lome bulled her way through Natasha's crew. No, someone else. He spied a lithe young woman, the one Fengel had brought to the Bleeding Teeth several nights ago. She jabbed a dagger in a pirate's shoulder, then ducked around as he screamed to cut his throat. Mordecai took a step toward her, but quick as a cat she looked up at him, checked herself, and ducked between two others fighting. Not her then, either.
Another of Fengel's Men stood nearby, hard pressed against two of Natasha's pirates. Mordecai smiled in recognition. This one. He stepped up neatly behind the man, catching him roughly by the back of his collar with his free hand, sliding his blade up against his victim's throat during a break in the action. Mordecai glared at his crewmen, who paused at the sight of their first mate. Then he smiled down at the figure he clasped.
"Hullo, Henry Smalls," said Mordecai.
"Mordecai!" growled the figure. "Let me go, you lickspittle dog! I'll—"
"Help me do whatever I want, I think," replied Mordecai. "This way. Smartly, now." He nodded for his men to cover him, and whirled the steward around, marching him back to where Fengel and Natasha fenced near the helm. Natasha was backed up against the gearbox. Two more of her men lay at her feet, wounded and groaning.
"Once again," said Fengel calmly, "you are outmatched. Give in now and save some face."
"Never," gasped Natasha. "If you could have shown this kind of stamina somewhere else but swordplay, you'd have found another woman by now."
"Enough!" called Mordecai. The others turned to look at him. "Captain Fengel. Drop your weapon and order your men to stand down, or I slit your steward's throat this instant."
Fengel stared. "You dog! You dishonorable—"
"Call for quarter, or this fellow gets it in the neck."
Henry fought. "Don't do it, Captain!"
Fengel stared at them, at the fight raging up the rest of the deck, and then back to Mordecai. He glared at Natasha, who smiled sweetly. He turned back to Mordecai.
"Face me fairly," growled Fengel. "You hull-sucking worm. Fight me fairly!"
Mordecai raised an eyebrow and pulled his blade tighter. Henry Smalls gasped in pain. Fengel chewed his lip and then tossed his saber to the deck. "Damn you," he hissed to his wife. "Quarter!" he called to the deck at large. "Stand down, men! Stand down!"
Mordecai glanced around. Fengel's Crew were pausing, uncertain, pulling back to stare disbelievingly over at their captain. The fighting slowed, then stopped. Natasha's Reavers moved to take immediate advantage, disarming the losers and herding them together.
Mordecai let Henry go as more of Natasha's men moved up to take the captain and the steward captive.
"Curse you," hissed Fengel. "You dishonorable dog. You can't beat me in a fair fight—"
"Which is why we don't fight fair," said Natasha. She gestured and two of her men grabbed Fengel, wrapping his arms around behind him. She reached up to pinch his cheek. "We're pirates, after all." She laughed as her husband jerked away.
Mordecai glanced around the deck again. They'd won. "Let's get rid of him, now," he said to his captain. "Clear them all off the ship to feed the sharks. We can be under way and at the treasure wreck by tomorrow night."