The sailor in front of Vival smiled, revealing a partial set of teeth.  “Now don’t go gettin’ that sword of yours all messy,” he said.  “We got the little girl an’…”

“I am not a little girl,” said Nyla deliberately with a careful kick.  The sailor that had been holding her shrieked like a little girl and dropped her.  Vival took a second to admire her aim.

In the second that Nyla had created for him, Vival pivoted his body so that he was side by side with the toothless sailor that confronted him.  Debating the wisdom of slicing one of the crewmembers that was keeping them afloat, he whacked the man on the back of the head with the flat of the blade.  “Run, Nyla!” he said.  “Find the Captain!”

As Nyla took off down the deck, Vival turned to fend off the new attack from the sailor he had pummeled.  Two other sailors had come to join him, so Vival found himself face to face with three standing men.  The two sailors that had just arrived carried belaying pins and large knives and were slowly advancing towards Vival.

“Duck,” said the sword to Vival, and Vival did so.  As a knife clattered to the deck just in front of his feet, Vival realized a fourth sailor had nearly pegged him from behind.  “Now jump,” the sword offered, and Vival found himself moving rapidly up the netlike rigging of the ship.  The sailors quickly scurried after him.

Vival was no sailor and would never be able to avoid these men in the rigging for long.  But he was spry and temporarily left them behind as he sped towards the crow’s nest like a spider.  The sea swung below him, sparkling dangerously, and he debated the merits of making a dive into the water to escape.

But that would have left Nyla to fend for herself.

The sailors came up too quickly, their knives in their teeth.  One of them had already woven himself in the rigging and had cocked his arm to slash at Vival’s feet.  But Vival’s feet were not there.

Holding on by only his hands proved trickier than he thought.  The sway of the ship pulled his hefty bulk out over the mainsail.  As the sailors came up to him, he brought out his sword.

He parried several knife strikes with a deft wrist.  The sailors cornered him like spiders as he tried to regain his footing in the web.  All of a sudden the boat heaved the other way and he found himself flying towards his enemies.

Dropping the sword, he snatched at each man’s head and shoulders with his hands as he fell.  This slowed his descent towards the hard wood of the deck, but not by much.  As he reached the last man, he vaulted himself towards the interior of the c-shaped bulge at the bottom of the wind-filled sail.   

Protesting his bulk with an outraged rip, the linen of the mainsail tore at the bottom and swallowed Vival, dumping him unceremoniously on the planks with a harsh thump.  Attempting to free himself from the cloth, he found he was trapped by a number of feet that held the sail closed like a bag.  He could neither free his arm to tear himself out nor move to crawl away.  He heard the laughs of more sailors, one who gave his side a hearty kick.

“Nyla!” he called through the sail.  Was she safe?

“Untie that man,” came a commanding voice.

Vival breathed a sigh of relief.  As the sailors hastened to comply, the sail was pulled away from him to reveal the Captain, glaring down at his ruined sail and his sprawling passenger.  “Captain!” Vival said.  “Your men are attacking us.”

“I see,” said the Captain.  He held Tom the Sword in his hand and stroked his beard as his men watched.  Finally, he said “We’d better get you to safety.”  

The Captain gave a curt nod to his men.  Quickly they surrounded Vival.  The sword gave no protest, remaining silent like an ordinary weapon.  Before Vival could say another word, he and Nyla were clapped in irons and marched down into the belly of the ship.  They were taken past a door which was locked behind them.

It was all very familiar to Vival.