by Simon Archer
“If she wishes to speak with me about it,” I said at last. “Tell her to approach me when all this be said an’ done. I ain’t about to curse our chances with any talk o’ not returnin’.”
“Fair enough,” Tabitha said.
I bent down, and she pushed up on her tiptoes so we could kiss before she sauntered off. The girl had quite a distracting backside, tail an’ all. She vanished quickly from sight, and I returned my attention to the job at hand. Jetsam was our next stop, then the final leg to Insmere.
If my understanding were correct, Ligeia would meet us in the waters near Jetsam. She had an uncanny ability to find my ship in all the endless miles of open water without magic. Perhaps it was much like how a drop of blood in the sea could draw sharks from miles away.
“You have come far,” Adra said from the shadows of the mizzenmast.
That caught me by surprise. I hadn’t even known the shamaness was back there. She must have caught my discomfiture as she let out a cackle and drifted up to stand to my left.
“How long have you been watching?” I asked in Orgik.
“Long enough, Splitter of Skulls. You have a gift for placing your weapons where they need to be.”
Another cryptic comment, but I suspected I understood this one. “You mean my choice of crew for the assault within The Pale Horse?”
“Indeed. While I would not be useless at your side, you are correct. My powers are much greater when I stand in the elements,” she replied. “So, too, are yours.”
“I won’t leave this stage up to anyone else,” I said firmly.
“I expected as much,” she said. “Too much rides upon it for you to consign the assault to proxy.”
“Aye.” There really wasn’t much else to say, the shamaness was just stating how I felt about the upcoming battle. I didn’t want to leave the attack on the interior of Layne’s city-ship to anyone aside from me. Call it pride or whatever, but I had started this, and I was going to see the end of it.
“Good,” Adra asserted. “Too many signs and portents point to the confluence of the Splitter of Skulls and Death. Your showdown must happen, else there will be no winner and all of those who follow you will lose.”
I snorted. That was the one part of shamanic traditions that I might never fully grasp, despite having a good, basic understanding of the magic. “When are you going to teach me of omens and how to make cryptic statements?”
She paused for a moment, then let out another cackle of laughter and slapped me on the shoulder hard enough to sting. “Irreverent orc!” Adra exclaimed. “Have you no respect for tradition?”
“None, whatsoever,” I replied with a grin.
“Fah,” she mock-grumbled. “You will face the wrath of the spirits!”
“Fine with me,” I retorted.
“Is there anything you fear, Splitter of Skulls?” Adra demanded suddenly enough to give me pause.
There was a deeper level to the question that wasn’t readily apparent. The Orgik word that she used for fear had levels of meaning that other languages I knew didn’t truly convey. That particular word carried a different weight than the one for fear that meant cowardice on the battlefield. It indicated a deeper, more personal kind of dread that even the bravest orc might feel.
“I fear losing,” I replied slowly. “My wives, my ship, my family…”
“Ah,” she said. “There it is. You have the fears of a leader and not a soldier. It will make you fight all the harder, and never, ever back down.” A sly grin crept over her face, and her eyes sparkled. “You will be a great orc, Splitter of Skulls.”
I gave her a sidelong glance and smirked, then grinned and said, “You say that as if I am not one already.”
“Do I?” Adra asked. “Or is it because I suspect that you have not yet reached the pinnacle of your potential?”
“Either way,” I said, “I am no longer young and full of fire, shaman. My joints and muscles ache, and I grow slower.” This was a painful confession, but it had to be made.
“Such is the curse of the candle that burns twice as bright,” she murmured.
“Aye,” I said. “It burns half as long.”
The shamaness reached out and put a hand on my arm, and her palm burned with almost unnatural heat. “Trust your witch, Splitter of Skulls. She will guide you, and the spirits will show what you must do.”
I looked away and stared out to the fore of the ship. That was definitely something to think about. Mary had said that she wished me a long life, but could she actually help me achieve it? There were powers in the world that could extend a man’s life, but they always came with a price. Now that both Adra and Mary mentioned it, perhaps there was another way.
Once we won the day, I could turn my mind to that.
29
The Old Man’s Isle and its neighbors grew on the horizon as the pirate fleet sailed on. Even from here, I could see the cluster of ships waiting just past the protected cove. Unlike the ships of Tarrant, though, these were a more rag-tag bunch. Fishing vessels vied for space with wallowing merchantmen, and here and there, an old galley or schooner rode at anchor. Every ship flew the colors of a free town.
These weren’t pirates. These were the people of the Archipelago rising up to make their choice and defend their homes. Sturmgar had come with Bloody Bill to meet us in the waters south, but he’d put the word out. I recognized ships from Potter and Caber as well as Jetsam, along with some of the other free towns and merchant holds that dotted the island chain.
Seeing this kind of outpouring of support warmed my heart in a way that the pirates did not, and I grinned to myself. Bloody Bill Markland wouldn’t have had a turnout like this by himself.
I had no intention of stopping until we got to Insmere, so we sailed by to let the new ships fall in with the fleet, and they did. They virtually doubled our number.
Now with more ships than I had expected, including a large number of what I’d consider non-combatants or prey, we sailed on. I did set my eyes on the new additions to see how they were armed and was surprised to see an assortment of cannons, chaser guns, and even ballista among the deck-mounted weapons of the free towns’ ships. Certainly, many of these brave souls were on their way to a good death in battle, which I could respect. Hell, I think they all even knew it.
They made their choices, and I wasn’t about to argue, though I wanted the heavier, better-armed ships in the vanguard of the assault. All of the smaller, irregular vessels would just add to the chaos and tie up whatever forces the Admiral had arrayed.
Ahead, the immense shape of the King Narwal breached and crashed down, throwing up waves that even caused The Hullbreaker to rock beneath me. Perhaps Ligeia would have some good news.
The sea monster went under again as shouts of alarm raised from nearby ships. I chuckled. These sheltered townsfolk and fishermen who’d tossed their lot in with us were about to learn a great deal about the pirate’s life, and about the power of the Admiralty.
I truly hoped they survived it.
Rather than her usual playful and flashy entrance, Ligeia just quietly slipped over the side of my ship and practically slunk up to greet me at the helm. “I apologize, Captain,” she began. “There are too many ships about for my comfort.”
“I’ll not make ye stay, lass,” I told her, “but what news?”
“Perhaps fifty or so ships ride at anchor nearby The Pale Horse,” she reported. “More, though, are harbored nearby at the island. I did not take a count, but the defensive posture seems more focused upon the port itself, and not the warship.”
“He’ll know what we be capable of,” I mused. “Though perhaps not everything. Did ye stop by Insmere?”
“I did,” she said with a nod. “Tiny is fine but grumpy and spoiling for a fight. Everyone else is readying themselves. The rest of Captain Sloan’s ships await there, along with Sirensong, The Wasp, and The Black Cat. There also is another person whom you might know that seeks you.”
Someone looking fo
r me? I went over various names in my head and asked, “Is Drammond well?”
Ligeia laughed and shrugged. “I did not ask after him, but he was on deck with your friend Kargad.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense, then, lass,” I said. “Who do ye speak of?”
She met my gaze. “A one-handed man named Potts.”
My jaw dropped. Commodore Maximillian Potts had commanded the ship we’d stolen old Eustace Brill from. I’d dueled the man, chopped off his hand, and kicked him into the sea through the window of his cabin. Either he was back for revenge, or he sought something more, but I suspected the latter.
“Did he say what he wanted?” I asked.
Ligeia shook her head. “He did not seem angry if that helps.”
“Mayhap,” I muttered, then reached up and rubbed the bridge of my nose. Far too many threads seemed to be coming together. “Anythin’ else?”
“Kargad wanted you to know that he tires of waiting, and if you are not there soon, he will sink The Pale Horse himself. Shrike will help,” she said, her head tilted slightly. “They are glad to know that you are still alive, especially since shares of The Golden Bull have not yet been divided.”
“Nice to know where their priorities lie,” I snorted. “Once we reach Insmere, I need to call a meeting o’ cap’ns. Sturmgar ain’t going to like it, but since he called up all the reserve, he can take command of it. I’ve too bloody much to do to hand-hold them.”
Ligeia just regarded me and waited a moment, then stepped up close and pressed her wet, naked form against mine before kissing me firmly and drawing away. “What do you need me to do?”
I took a deep breath and rolled my neck, then closed my eyes and huffed it out. “Return to Insmere and tell them to make ready. Let them know what’s coming. We’ll discuss our strategy once I’m in port at the cap’n’s meeting. At this speed, we’re like to be pulling in two days hence, and I’d like to set out for Avion two days after. Tell Kargad to have everything in place t’get The Hullbreaker resupplied.”
The siren smiled. “Of course.” She lifted her eyes to mine and leaned close, “In those two days, my Captain, I have needs I should like for you to attend.”
I nodded slowly. “And I’d like very much to attend them,” I murmured back. “See ye in Insmere.”
“You will.” She spun and darted to the rail, stepped to the top of it, and sprang from the ship into the dark, wave-tossed sea.
“Yer a lucky man, Cap’n,” Jimmy Mocker said from the bottom of the stairs that led to the main deck.
“Ye think?” I asked and motioned him closer.
“Aye, I do,” he sauntered up the stairs and walked over. “In all seriousness, Cap’n, what do ye think o’ this fleet we find ourselves with?”
“In truth, Jimmy,” I said thoughtfully. “I ain’t so sure. There seems to be a bit of an upsurge in things that could go wrong, by my thinking.”
“I see yer point, I do,” he said. “Unless we be careful, we’ll get in each other’s way.”
That was one of the many logistical issues I saw in this plan, but there was little time left to alter it, and besides, I could come up with a strategy to employ all of these tubs in our assault on the Admiralty. There were still a few days left until we’d engage the enemy.
Plenty of time.
“What did Ligeia report?” Jimmy asked, snapping my mind back to the present.
“That the men waiting in Insmere be ready, and all is quiet at Avion,” I replied. “Seems the Admiral has set the greater share of his fleet to guarding the town an’ the shipyards instead o’ The Pale Horse. I ain’t precisely sure why he’d do such a thing since he has to know we be coming.”
“He might just be planning to call them in once he knows we’ve reached Insmere,” Jimmy suggested. “That’d be plenty of time to set up a defensive line, aye?”
I gave a slow nod. “Or he could keep ships in reserve to lure us in range o’ the shore emplacements an’ the fort. We cannot assume the Admiral’s as barmy as Arde. Hell, I rather suspect that he’s waited all this time to make us come to him.”
“That’d be damned cagey,” he mused. “Ye think the man’s that far ahead?”
“I cannot in good conscience deny it,” I answered, then looked sidelong at my first mate. “But if we be expectin’ some trick or other, then we don’t have to fall in it.”
“I trust yer judgment Cap’n,” he said with a shrug. “Ye still intend to pilot yon ironclad?”
“Oh, aye,” I grinned. “An’ ye’ll be cap’n o’ The Hullbreaker. Try to keep ‘er in one piece.”
“Ye know I’ll do my best,” Jimmy said nervously, “but this is the kind o’ fight where I ain’t about to make any promises.”
“Well,” I shrugged, “if ye owe me a ship, afterward, so be it.”
“Are ye kidding me?” he demanded. “If I lose yer ship, where do ye think I can get one? Besides, like as not, there’ll be none o’ the rest of us around.”
“Yer like to be right, there, Jimmy, my lad,” I said and grinned at him. “But I trust ye to make good.”
“Ye don’t ask much, do ye, Cap’n?” he complained.
“Only what I believe reasonable,” I observed. “Ye should do fine, barring an ill shift in the winds o’ fortune.”
“Hardly reassurin’,” Jimmy muttered.
“At least ye don’t have to hold this horde together,” I said with a chuckle and shake of my head. “Full half o’ these bastards I expect to run or turn traitor. A third I’m expectin’ to end up feedin’ the fishes, an’ the rest might even turn out useful.”
“Any o’ them I should trust?” He asked after a moment’s silence.
“Kargad, Shrike, Jenny,” I replied. “They’ll cap’n the rest o’ our ships. Ye can trust Ligeia to get the job done, but she will likely be busy with whatever Layne’s got down below.”
“I meant of the pirate captains,” he said.
“I was gettin’ to them,” I continued. “Sturmgar an’ the McCullums, mostly. I’d take Bloody Bill with a handful o’ salt, but he’ll keep his word straight to the letter. Sloan’s like to be a good choice since I was plannin’ to recruit him into my fleet.” Then I shrugged. “As for Von Kolter, Wry, and the rest? If ye expect a backstabbin’, ye won’t get caught by surprise.”
“Noted,” Jimmy sighed. “I think I’m gonna be needin’ one o’ yer pep talks, Cap’n.”
I reached over and clapped the foppish fellow on the shoulder hard enough to nearly send him to the deck. He groaned and winced as I said, “I have faith in ye, Jimmy Mocker, else I’d not leave my Hullbreaker in yer hands. Think about that.”
“Well, there goes my shootin’ arm,” he groaned and rubbed his shoulder, rotating that arm with a grimace. After a moment of that, he grinned up at me with a bit of his old fire. “Reckon I’ll have to be a cap’n now. Ain’t like those bastards need to do anythin’ but give orders.”
I roared with laughter. “Good man,” I boomed out as he joined me. The deck crew paused for a moment to stare at the pair of us until Daka started yelling for them to get back to work.
Our mirth subsided after a bit, and we just stood at the helm in bemused silence. I held our course with one hand on the massive wheel. Two more days and we’d be in Insmere, then not much longer after that, we’d sail against the Admiralty.
I looked out over the, well, horde of ships that sailed along with us. My mind drifted back through the years to the battles I’d fought before taking to the sea. There was something familiar about the idea of sailing at the head of a large, motley fleet. It was somewhat akin to racing along at the head of a group of howling orcs. A bit of warmth spread out from my heart, and I smiled at the conjunction of images.
Perhaps this would be fun, after all.
I did have to remember that not everyone in my little horde of ships was an orc, and there were far too many chieftains for my liking. I’d already bested two of them, so maybe I could challenge the rest, one
by one, for command of their crews. It would certainly guarantee that they wouldn’t disobey me.
Or it might not. Humans were backstabbing creatures, prone to rebellions and generally recalcitrant unless bribed or coerced. Very few cottoned to the idea of fighting just for its own sake. If I were going to pull this mess together, I’d have to think like one of them and couch everything in terms of honoring the pirates’ code. Bloody Bill’s backing would go a long way towards keeping things together, but most of it would be up to me.
At least I wouldn’t have to sell the idea of driving the Admiralty out of the Archipelago, but some of these cowards might panic and run at the first sight of The Pale Horse, especially if she was free of her shackles and sailing.
30
Admiral Layne
“I trust you have some good news to give me,” I said in a low, rasping voice as Marai Bloddwenn, the leader of my witches’ coven, slipped into my office. Oil lamps guttered in the light air movement generated by the opening and closing of the well-oiled door.
“That depends upon your definition of ‘good news,’” she said, a faint smirk playing over her pale lips.
“‘Good’ would be that Lack has recovered both the Black Mirror and Mary Night and is returning post-haste,” I said flatly. She met my gaze for a moment, then quickly looked away.
“In that case then,” she demurred, “no. I do not have good news to give you.”
I let out a low hiss of frustration. “What then?”
“Lack has not only failed, Admiral, but has gotten himself killed in the trying. That particular avenue is closed to us forevermore, it seems.” Marai drifted around the side of my desk to kneel delicately at my side.
“You are pleased with this development, I suspect,” I murmured with a scowl, reaching over with an idle hand to stroke her hair like one would a favored dog. The witch was a more pliant creature than Lack, though, I feared, less powerful. She certainly did not possess the insubordinate streak of the sorcerer and was content with whatever scraps of power I allowed. “You will take command of Lack’s Circle.” It wasn’t a question.