by Simon Archer
When we hit, the ship shuddered and slowed, but she kept moving, which I hadn’t expected. The grinding rumble picked up, and shards and chunks of ice flew up and around, erupting from the packed ice ahead of us.
“What in the hells?” I exclaimed. The ship rocked and surged as it plowed through the ice.
“The ram prow ain’t just a showy way o’ punchin’ holes in other ships, Cap’n,” Bord finally explained. “‘Tis a modified mining borer, powered by the ship’s boilers. The blades’ll grind through ice an’ rock an’ plated hulls, at yer need.”
I laughed out loud. Some of the terms Bord used were a bit outside of my understanding, but I did know what he meant by grinding blades. The Echo was purely a machine of war. Unlike most sailing ships that could carry cargo and passengers, the ironclad was intended to do one thing: Destroy other ships.
Bord took the ship through its paces by having me steam her around the island. The third, fourth, and fifth notches were meant for moving at speed, which wasn’t actually possible so long as we were grinding through iced-over waters. Still, it only took a couple of hours to make the circuit, after which he had me back the ship into her berth at the pier.
I only banged into the heavy stone structure twice, so I was fairly proud of myself when we were done.
“Do ye know the course back?” I asked Bord.
“Not like ye do,” he replied. “I’d need maps an’ a plot, I fear.”
I nodded slowly. My first thought had been to have the ironclad break the ice ahead of The Hullbreaker, but to do that, I’d need to pilot her. “I’ll get us back to open sea,” I said after a bit of deliberation. “After that, she’s yours ‘til we reach Insmere.”
Bord nodded. “That makes the most sense, Cap’n. I reckon ye’ll steam her into battle against Layne?”
“Aye,” I said. “Like as not, she’s the only thing that can get close to The Pale Horse without getting sunk. Ye gave me some ideas with the ram, too.”
“Probably ones I’ll end up regrettin’,” Bord grimaced. “But ye can explain them later.”
“I shall,” I said. “Let me roust the rest o’ the crew an’ put Mocker in charge ‘til we get out of the ice. Ye an’ yer crew ready to sail?”
“Ready an’ anxious,” Bord told me. “We’ll be waitin’.”
I gave the old dwarf a salute and strode off back to The Hullbreaker.
“Jimmy!” I bellowed across the deck, and soon enough, the thin, foppish figure of my first mate hurried up.
“What d’ye need, Cap’n?” he asked brightly.
“If ye ain’t guessed,” I told him, “‘tis time to go.”
“An’ not a bloody moment too soon.” He grinned. “Everyone was gettin’ a might stirred up seein’ ye cuttin’ the ice in that damned ironclad.”
“I can’t think of a reason to wait longer,” I said. “Ye’ve command o’ The Hullbreaker ‘til we’re out of the ice. Ligeia will scout an’ help with clearing, but I mean to plow a course straight to clear seas.”
“As ye will, Cap’n,” Jimmy smiled and gave me a salute. “Any o’ the ladies goin’ with ye?”
“To be honest, Jimmy,” I told him. “I ain’t asked ‘em yet.”
“Ye might want to be about it, then,” he said. “Don’t let me keep ye.”
I nodded and went in search of my wives first. Ligeia and Mary both waited in my cabin. My little witch was packed and waiting. I didn’t even need to ask if she wanted to travel aboard The Echo.
“Of course, I will do my part,” my siren said with a smile when I asked if she’d scout ahead. “How far do you wish for me to go before I return and report?”
“If ye don’t mind goin’ all the way to the edge o’ the ice, I’d appreciate it,” I said. “An’ once this is over, I’ll let ye drag me about the seas to show me all the things ye want.”
“I shall hold you to that, my Captain,” she said with a smile and a twinkle in her dark eyes.
“You might be in trouble,” Mary informed me.
“Perhaps,” I conceded, then shrugged. “Let me speak with the others.”
Tabitha was happy to join Mary and me aboard The Echo, but Adra declined. “I prefer wood under my feet, water on my skin, and wind in my hair, Splitter of Skulls,” the shamaness told me. “Besides, someone should tend the Gale.”
“Right,” I said, “and thank you.”
Within an hour, The Hullbreaker was ready to cast off, and I was back on The Echo with Mary and Tabitha. The broken ice hadn’t even had a chance to harden when I eased the ironclad out into the underground cove and aimed her prow towards the exit.
When we were clear, The Hullbreaker followed, some sails raised while Adra directed the Gale at Jimmy’s behest. I felt a little bit of regret that I wasn’t aboard my own loyal ship, but I needed to master the ironclad before I piloted her in the upcoming fight.
Ligeia and the King Narwhal were out of sight early on our first day out. Since they could dive below the ice, and the whale swam faster than the ironclad or The Hullbreaker could manage, I’d expected this. It didn’t make me worry any less. My siren seemed overconfident to the point of arrogance when she was in the water, no matter what she faced.
Perhaps it wasn’t a misplaced sentiment. I had never seen her injured in any of our fights where she’d been below the surface with Tiny or directing an army of sharks and carnivorous fish against the merfolk legions of the Admiralty.
Hell, she’d even made friends of the baby lascu that we’d found nesting in the hulk of The Golden Bull.
With The Echo in the lead, we broke our way through the ice of the frozen sea. The sound of it wormed its way into my head, though, until I practically dreamed of cracking ice and the constant grinding of the powerful blades hidden in the ram prow of the ironclad. It was quite a feeling for me to be in command of a ship of the line that had little purpose besides destruction.
It wasn’t the kind of ship an orc would build. We preferred a bit more agility at the expense of armor. The ironclad handled poorly compared to even the largest sailing ship I’d ever helmed. The Echo turned slowly, as if her rudder were undersized for her weight, and sat a lot lower in the water than I preferred, although her pumps were the best I’d ever seen. Despite the water she took on when the waves were high, she didn’t sink, and she barely rolled.
The feats of shipbuilding that had gone into the ships the dwarves called Sea Hammers fairly boggled the mind. I had time to consider this over the trip southward, and it begged a question that I took the opportunity to put to Bord.
“What happened to the rest of the Sea Hammers?”
“Sunk, blown up, or scuttled after the war,” the cannonmaster replied.
“Why?” I gazed out through the slitted shutters. The wind was particularly bracing today, and it was more comfortable to run shuttered and battened than to deal with things icing up in the wheelhouse.
“Because we decided ‘twas best dwarves removed ourselves from the sea,” Bord said. “I’m sure ye can imagine the damage on o’ these things could do, aye? Then consider that we built a weapon that we couldn’t stop unless we could get inside it.”
I paused and glanced down at the old dwarf. He sat in shadow upon a bolted-down stool near the bulkhead door leading into the cannon deck. “These things can’t hurt each other?”
“Nay, lad,” he replied. We were alone in the wheelhouse, with Mary and Tabitha both sleeping down in the berths below. “We put so much armor on ‘em that the cannons we loaded ‘em with couldn’t punch through. Thing is, the shockwaves an’ the sound could drive a bloke barmy, rupture his ears, or even kill him outright.”
“Imagine a pair o’ ironclads fightin’ until their crews were both dead or mad. They’d stay afloat, then, driftin’ until somebody boarded ‘em. Then ye’d have some mad bastard pirate steamin’ around the Archipelago like he owned the place.” The dwarf chuckled and looked slyly over at me. “An’ if it was an orc? Then the crazy whoreson would be unstopp
able.”
I eyed the cannonmaster with a faint scowl that lightened as he started to laugh again. “How could ye stop one o’ these things from the outside?”
“Burnin’ oil,” he replied. “A big enough powder bomb or magic.”
“Anyone ever enchant one?” I asked curiously. That would make this nut even harder to crack, but did I want to do that?
Bord shrugged. “Why bother?” he asked in return. “Witches’ charms ain’t so good against metal, an’ if ye ain’t noticed, Mary’s real careful movin’ about. The iron an’ steel can hurt her, but she’s toughin’ it out for ye. I wouldn’t count on magic bein’ able to do much to help or even hurt The Echo.”
I closed my eyes. That was something I hadn’t considered. Mary’s sensitivity to iron and steel was easy to forget, especially considering the fighting knives she wielded. Even I had forgotten, and she hadn’t made an issue about it.
Still, I hated the idea of hurting my loyal little changeling witch, even by accident. I also didn’t want to acknowledge her weakness. She was doing a very orcish thing by putting herself into a situation that sorely tested her.
Once again, Mary was out to make me proud.
25
The return trip from the frozen island took about a day less than the voyage there. With The Echo opening the way and Ligeia with her immense friend out ahead of us scouting to warn us of trouble, this voyage was almost relaxing.
Perhaps it helped that the threat of attack from Lack and his demonic minions no longer hung over our heads or perhaps there was something more. No fanfare or even a spiritual ripple followed our departure from the forgotten little crag of land where the crew of the ironclad hid her away and then quietly passed into memory.
I reckoned that it didn’t matter so much in the long run. If the dead were truly laid to rest when the ironclad departed, then it was best that they moved on quietly.
Once we broke free of the fields of ice and into the open sea, I made good my word and returned to captain The Hullbreaker. Bord dropped back a bit as we sailed on. As sort of a test, I urged the Gale to full force and set my ship to practically flying over the waves with the dwarven warship in hot pursuit.
It was impressive to see. The Echo kept pace with us under full sail, steaming along with some pouring from her stacks as if she were just out for a relaxing cruise.
“She’s certainly amazing,” Mary commented idly. The witch had taken to spending a bit more of her time with me at the helm, and I’d started teaching her a bit about piloting a ship. Whether she was truly interested or not, she certainly did a good job of pretending, which I appreciated.
“Aye,” I said, “though a bit cramped and hot for me.”
“You like the cold, do you not?” she wondered
“I like being outside,” I corrected. “The cold doesn’t bother me.”
“Fair enough,” she said with a grin then leaned on the railing and watched we while I made a couple of minor adjustments to our course. The ship picked up a little speed as she slid into the current I’d sensed.
“I notice ye’ve taken to wearing a bit more,” I teased.
She shrugged and smirked back at me. “Unlike you, the cold does bother me a little. It doesn’t hurt me, really, but I do find it somewhat uncomfortable in the extremes.”
“Why did ye want to stay aboard the ironclad if it was going to hurt ye?” I asked bluntly.
“Figured that out, did you?” she countered. “I wanted to be by your side, my Captain. Do I need more of a reason than that?”
“Ye do not need to risk yerself, Mary Night,” I met her gaze and gave what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Knowin’ ye wish to be there, though it causes ye pain, be more than enough.”
“It is not enough for me,” she said firmly. “I am not so fragile that the iron does more than make me slightly ill. To pure fae, it burns.”
“Would ye risk it, then?”
“Perhaps,” she replied, “but only for ye.”
“Ye really have naught to prove to me,” I said with a snort and shake of my head. “I’d like to think we’ve come this far and this long on a bit more than just lust.”
Mary let out a laugh at that. “You have to admit that it was a good start, though.”
“How could I forget it?” I asked with a grin.
“Especially considering that I occasionally remind you, I’d say ‘not easily,’” she replied. We were silent for a minute before she continued. “I do not want to lose you, my Captain, and like it or not, I am something of the worrying kind.”
Mary had been betrayed and left behind many times in her past before she met up with me, so I did think that I understood. “Perhaps one day I shall prove to ye that yer fear is unfounded, but ‘til that day, I’ll do the best I can to reassure ye.”
“I know, dear Bardak,” she said, and her eyes met mine. “I suspect I’ll always know where I stand with you.”
“Of course,” I said. “Ye’ll always be the first o’ my wives, an’ the one with the most pull. ‘Tis why the others defer to ye, at least a bit.”
Mary smiled softly and shook her head. “I’m unsure that I want that kind of power.”
“Want or no, ye seem to have it,” I observed. “Did ye not help to set me up with the others?”
“I suppose that I did, at that,” she said, her eyes bright. “Ligeia, then Tabitha and lastly Adra. I had something of a hand in all of them, did I not?”
“Ye’d be the one to know,” I replied. “An’ I’d hear the stories, one day.”
“You’ve already heard them, my Captain,” she told me. “It isn’t like you happen to be a hard sell to any woman who gets to know you.”
“Ye think?” I asked.
Mary tapped the side of her temple with a forefinger. “I know, my love,” she said firmly. “I know.”
I nodded, feeling a pleasant warmth spreading out from the center of my chest. “Good. Now come over here an’ take the wheel, lass. See if ye can use those witch-senses to feel out that current we happen to be in.”
“Very well,” she said pensively then took the wheel firmly in her hands as I stepped aside. It was easily taller than she was, and probably several times as heavy, but she happened to be a lot stronger than she looked.
It was my turn, then, to lean on the rail and watch her while she struggled to adapt her own magical senses to feel out what came naturally to me with my particular talent.
I gave her about an hour to work on it, watching the little witch grimace and furrow her brow while she clutched onto the massive ship’s wheel. Then, right before I was about to ask her about it, her eyes suddenly lit up.
“I’ve got it!” Mary exclaimed. “It runs roughly southward, and we’re sitting right in the middle of it, more or less.”
“Aye, good,” I told her, then watched her adjust the wheel a few degrees as the current shifted. “That was bloody fast, Mary. Ye have a talent yerself, I think.”
“Perhaps,” she said with a laugh, “but how do you know I didn’t cheat and use a hex?”
“Perhaps,” I countered, “that was what I wanted ye to do.”
“Did you?” she asked.
I nodded. “I wanted ye to use yer own talent to figure out the current, not emulate what I could do.”
“I finally figured that out and thought I was being clever.” Mary chuckled and stuck her tongue out at me playfully. “You really do try to make the people around you think instead of just mindlessly following orders.”
“That was how old Sturmgar taught me,” I admitted. “He chose men for command based on how we could adapt an’ reason under pressure. Now, I wasn’t tryin’ to test ye, here, lass. I wanted to see what ye’d come up with to solve this challenge.”
“So, you did mean to test me?” Mary smirked.
I chuckled and scratched at my beard, then grinned back at her. “I suppose ye be correct in that, but it was never my intention to vex ye.”
“Dear Captain,” s
he said, “if you think that a test of my magic would vex me, then you barely know me at all.”
I looked her over and shrugged. “Ye passed, either way.”
“I did,” Mary preened. “So, what next?”
“How are ye with giving orders?” I wanted to know. At this point, I purposefully wiped my face clean of expression to hopefully make my intent harder for her to read. My witch was good with people, and likely she’d be looking for clues of my intent. This wasn’t the easiest challenge I’d ever faced. Like most orcs, I was fairly straightforward and easy to read, and I likely had tells that Mary would recognize. Still, I had to try, and so I affected a stony gaze as I watched the young witch, now holding the ship steady.
“A bit out of practice,” she replied as she gazed off at the distant horizon. “What are you doing, Captain? Grooming me for command?”
That was exactly what I was doing.
“Aye, lass. I might, one day, have a ship for ye if ye’d like.”
“If so, I want something small and fast, like The Black Cat,” Mary mused. “And I want to enchant the hell out of it.”
“What do ye think of the idea of a flying ship?” I asked suddenly.
“A flying ship?” my witch exclaimed. “Bardak, love, is there a visionary hiding behind that craggy countenance?”
I shrugged. “Maybe?”
She laughed lightly. “I felt what you did when you were testing your spiritual muscles. For a moment, you coaxed the elementals of the air to lift The Hullbreaker in the water. Did Adra say anything about it?”
“Nay,” I replied with a shake of my head. “She likely knows and likely saw no point in speaking with me about it. Perhaps she even expected it.” I tilted my head back to look up at the sky. “I want to do this, Mary. Once we’ve settled the score with Admiral Layne, I want ye, yer coven, an’ anyone else barmy enough to hear me out.”
“I can predict a few responses, I expect,” Mary said lightly. “I’m in, most definitely. I suspect Ember will practically explode with excitement, though Rhianne will caution temperance. Adra will affect some mysterious air, but she’ll go along with you, naysaying all the way while helping, nonetheless. The rest of your wives will go along with you, too, even if Ligeia doesn’t understand the excitement, she will support whatever you wish. Tabitha, though, will be as excited about the idea as I am and want to captain the result, no matter what.” Mary cocked her head for a moment, then hauled on the wheel to adjust our course.