Upon a Pale Horse- Raiding the Seven Seas

by Simon Archer

  Mary pushed herself free of where she’d managed to brace herself, then helped Ember and Bord to their feet. Rhianne was nowhere to be found, but we had to get this ship moving. She was starting to rotate, and smoke and water poured into her interior.

  “Cannonmaster!” I roared. “Get yer crew up an’ moving. Mary, Tabitha, Ember, see what ye can do to help. Find Rhianne an’ secure her if nothin’ else.” That said, I hurried to the wheelhouse, yanked open the door, and a wave of water nearly took me off my feet.

  “Hells with this,” I growled to myself, staggered to the wheel, and ground open the armored shutters. Right now, I needed to see what in the hells was going on.

  Smoke from the death of The Pale Horse poured in immediately, and I could see flames off to the port side as the hulk burned. The heat, even where we were, almost stole the breath from my lungs. I shook my head to clear the sweat and water from my eyes, jammed the lever all the way to full reverse, and spun the wheel.

  While I worked to maneuver the near-unresponsive ironclad, I reached out to the elementals. Wind and water came quickly, and, much to my surprise, fire answered as well.

  Air eagerly began to clear the air aboard and around, while the water we’d taken on flowed back out of the belowdecks, pouring out through the trapdoors and portholes that had been blown open by our sudden, violent exit from the bowels of the city-ship.

  Somehow, through it all, The Echo still steamed along. She was slow and responded poorly, but she moved. Once I had her turned and aimed in the direction that felt right to me, I set the distant fires on the Admiral’s ship to burning with unmatched vigor, and they flared up in their own happy celebration. I notched the throttle forward, and it stuck at the first spot.

  “I’ll be damned,” I muttered, then grinned. It didn’t really matter how fast we made it out. We were alive.

  “We’ve set her to rest, my Captain,” Mary said from behind me as she slipped tiredly into the wheelhouse. “She... still lives, I think, but using the hex twice has sorely drained her spirit.”

  “I’m curious why ye did not use that hex yourself, Mary, an’ what your story is with the Admiral’s witch?” I pitched my voice as gently as I could. There was no anger or disappointment in me for my little changeling witch. I trusted her, and that wasn’t like to change. If she’d kept anything from me, intentionally or not, there had to be a reason.

  Mary night let out a sigh and came close to slip an arm around and lean against me. “I cannot cast the Lambent Hex because I am half-fae, dear Bardak. It can only be cast by a witch with one foot in the grave and one in the mortal world. My feet rest in this world and the faery one.”

  I nodded slowly. Some magic bore conditions that had to be met before they could be wielded. “Only a mortal or an undead can use it, then?” I asked, just to make sure.

  “Yes,” she replied simply, then closed her eyes and sighed. For a moment, she was still against me, except for the regular movement of her breathing. “As for Marai Bloddwenn, well, she was my mother, a mortal witch enchanted and seduced by a faery knight, who gave birth to his child some months later, then gave the little girl up to pursue her own witchy ways. There was never much love lost between us, and I suspect ‘twas she who told Lack of my bloodline. It doesn’t really matter, now, though, but I suppose I will forgive her.”

  I just slipped my arm a bit tighter around my little witch. “Do ye think she fell under the sorcerer’s spell?”

  “I don’t know,” Mary replied. “It’s possible, I suppose, and... at the end… she tried to get me to run.” She sniffed hard and looked up at me. “At least I have you, right?”

  “I’ll always be yer Cap’n,” I replied with a smile.

  We emerged from the smoke, then, into a field of far fewer ships than we’d gone into this fight with. None of them were unscathed, some were missing masts or riding low in the water while sailors frantically bailed or worked the pumps. Even Tiny and the King Narwhal floated within view, both sporting wounds that would, perhaps, become prestigious scars or markings in whatever culture of battle that sea monsters followed.

  Ligeia herself dove into the water at our appearance from the bank of smoke, and I suspected she’d join Mary and me shortly. Tabitha crowded in from behind and peered out, scanning the surviving vessels frantically, but trying to look unconcerned, as only a feline can.

  I quickly spied The Hullbreaker though she was hardly unscathed. Even her heavily enchanted hull sported holes, and her foremast was gone, broken off about halfway up its length. Yardarms were missing on other masts, and her wood was heavily scorched.

  The Wasp and Sirensong were both missing, and my heart dropped a little. I hoped that they had gone to aid the land-bound effort since I knew that both Shrike and Kargad were hard bastards to kill.

  As we neared my ship, we caught sight of The Black Cat. She was scorched a bit but otherwise seemed none the worse for wear. Perhaps she’d only lost one of her nine lives in the fight, but then, I had no way of knowing how many the little ship might have used already, and Tabitha likely wouldn’t tell.

  Everyone seemed to have been focused on where The Pale Horse burned and sank behind us, and we were definitely the center of attention now. I could hear the triumphant cheers and yells even over the low chugging of The Echo’s steam engines, and a grin stole over my face.

  At that moment, the sleek, wet form of my siren, burst over the forward rail, dove between the shutters, and attached herself to me, long arms and legs enfolding me as she kissed me with surprising passion.

  Mary and Tabitha both laughed and stepped up to support me, perhaps saving the ironclad from running into one of the anchored ships as well.

  When Ligeia pulled back, she said, “You are alive, and that is good.”

  I smiled. “As are ye, an’ that be good, too.”

  “Kargad and Shrike have gone to help with the shipyard. There is still some resistance there. Now that you are safe, I will go and help them.”

  I nodded and let her go as she extricated herself from me as well. “Do ye know if Bill managed to escape?”

  The siren cast her eyes downward and shook her head. “I was able to find no sign of him, I fear, alive or dead, nor of Cerridwyn.”

  “Perhaps she spirited him away, then?” Mary suggested.

  “I ain’t too pleased that he’d abandon his men to die in savin’ himself,” I grumbled, “but ‘twould not be the first time the bastard’s done that.”

  Ligeia nodded, stole another kiss for herself, and slipped back out through the shutters before sliding over the short walkway rail and into the dark sea. Moments later, Tiny let out a loud huff and sank beneath the waves, his ridged shellback turning and heading towards Avion after his mistress.

  The King Narwhal, though, only shifted a bit, nosing through the nearby floating wreckage.

  I fiddled with the throttle a bit, turned, and brought us up beside The Hullbreaker. The ironclad was nice, but my old ship was home, and I’d be glad to be back aboard her.

  38

  Avion fell quickly after the destruction of The Pale Horse. Those of us that survived the grand battle came ashore unwilling to take any shit, and with Tiny nosing among the surviving Imperial ships in the bay, themselves disabled and drifting after he snapped off their rudders, the shipyards and the rest of the town outside the fort surrendered without any major incidents.

  I gathered up most of my scattered crew, leaving Tabitha Binx and her Black Cat along with Kargad and Sirensong, with Edison Sloan and Commodore Potts to help establish the pirate town of whatever the hell they planned on calling it. After maybe a day of quick repairs to The Hullbreaker, I sailed out, heading back to Insmere.

  Sure, I was the hero of the day for taking down Admiral Justin Layne and his unholy monster of a living ship, The Pale Horse, but I was tired. Bord and his ironclad dwarven Sea Hammer, The Echo, steamed along in my wake.

  “So, I be thinking,” I said to Jimmy Mocker and Mary Night, when both
of them joined me at the helm, “that we’ll organize some salvage operations t’go an’ recover what’s left o’ some o’ those ships, an’ see if anythin’ of use was left behind sunk with The Pale Horse.”

  “I suspect you mean to look for Bill’s body as well?” Mary opined. She looked tired, despite the smile on her face, and I suspected that the death of her mother Marai, even estranged as they were, weighed on her.

  Truth be told, the near-death of Tabitha Binx wore on me. I’d prevented it, sure, but only by the slimmest of margins, and with help. Still, I had done it.

  “Aye,” I admitted. “Ye heard Shrike, back at the fort. ‘Never count Bill Markland dead, Cap’n,’ he told me. ‘’Less ye see the corpse’.”

  “Probably a wise move,” Jimmy said with a faint smile. “No offense, Cap’n, but I’d want to see yer body before I’d believe you were a goner, too.”

  “An’ I think ye flatter me,” I grumbled. “Anyway, I want to make damn sure that Bill an’ Cerridwyn really are dead before I can sleep easy. The bastard wanted to retire, an’ I don’t begrudge him that, but I ain’t happy if he meant to do it on the bodies o’ his loyal crew.”

  “You might not like what you find, I suspect,” Mary said, then closed her eyes and leaned her head back, catching a momentary ray of sun through the Archipelago clouds.

  “Aye,” I said and chuckled. “I suspect the bastard made yet another darin’ escape, but I might be wrong.”

  “Ye said that witch o’ his was a foreseer, aye?” Jimmy asked.

  “Cerridwyn?” Mary said. “Aye, she was, and one of the best I’ve ever known.”

  “So, like as not, he expected how the fight would go against Layne, an’ plotted a contingency based on the possibility he’d end up aflame,” I mused, continuing Jimmy’s thought. “Well, we’ll hold a wake for the bastard an’ all the others that gave their lives in this fight, but keep our guard up, just in case.”

  “Pretty much means that ye be the Pirate King now, aye?” he asked.

  “Pretty much,” I replied. “Lot o’ the men who’d argue the point ended up sunk off o’ Avion, but some might wash up here an’ there. Look at Potts.”

  “Aye, that was a surprise,” Mary said.

  The trip went easy. We didn’t bother calling on the Gale, though Adra had completed the process of binding the elemental to The Hullbreaker so I could call upon it with impunity. She seemed inordinately pleased with herself, as well, and I couldn’t help but wonder at that.

  Insmere already had the news when we sailed into the harbor, or else they’d simply deduced that the day had been won simply by my survival. We were welcomed with open arms, escorted to the keep, and then left the hell alone with food, drink, and a skeleton staff to see to our needs. I signed off on shore leave for every sailor aboard, and had the mirror, in its crate, portaged quietly through the streets to be locked up in the dungeons, along with the rest of the loot from The Golden Bull.

  Quite simply, we were rich.

  I spent the next few days with Jimmy, Mary, and Bord going through the treasure and measuring out shares. Jewelers and goldsmiths in Insmere were happy to appraise the pieces for us, but we’d have to take them to Tarrant, or even the mainland, to fully dispose of and convert to coin.

  Once we had the estimates and started recording shares, the sheer value of what we’d taken began to trickle through into my thick, orcish skull. The captain’s share for each ship was more than enough to buy a vessel like The Witch’s Promise or The Indomitable outright. I could have a larger, heavier gunned version of The Hullbreaker built, armed, and crewed, and still have gold left over.

  Just on that, and the accomplishment of defeating Admiral Layne and his entire fleet, I had overtaken Bloody Bill Markland as the greatest pirate of the Archipelago, and no one would dispute my position as the new Pirate King.

  I grinned and looked up at Mary, who was sorting coins into coffers based on weight while Adra napped, and Ligeia stood still and patiently waited for the young, human tailor lass to get her measurements. She was going to be outfitted as a proper pirate, with garb that would survive swimming with her, as well.

  “Ye realize, Mary,” I said. “We could bloody well retire just on the shares from the treasure ship.

  “I thought you might say that,” she said and gave me a smile.

  “There are some very pretty things among the treasures,” Ligeia said, then, “Ow.” Apparently, a pin had gone astray.

  “Sorry, miss,” the young woman winced apologetically.

  “It is fine,” the siren replied, then went still again.

  “Reckon ye want yer share in jewelry?” I asked Ligeia.

  “I would,” she replied. “I will show you the pieces I fancy, once the woman is done tormenting me.”

  “I said I was sorry!” the tailor protested.

  We all laughed at that and went back to our work. By the end of a week, everything had been tallied, my own crew and ships had returned to Insmere, including, surprisingly, Edison Sloan. Potts remained behind with a loyal crew to ensure that the folk of Avion weren’t mistreated by the pirates as Von Kolter and a small coalition of captains hashed out their plans under the watchful eyes of both the Commodore and Sturmgar Ironhand.

  The pirate town of Avion was going to become a reality, and I was honestly glad I had little to no hand in it. Insmere was more than enough for me, and it was happily going about its business and making trade inroads with the other islands, free towns and Imperial towns alike. With the Admiralty shattered, the idea of free trade spread like wildfire among the people of the Archipelago.

  We’d see how that went.

  Once my pirate clan was back together in Insmere, I sprang my surprise on them. From my own estimated share, I tried to pay for a full-scale debauch, based in the courtyard of the keep, for my captains and crews.

  However, the estimable people of the town were having nothing of it. Provided the men behaved at least a bit, the town would see to throwing them a celebration.

  It was quite a sight, I had to admit. There were tables of food and wine, music and other entertainments, along with willing participants of all genders. I had to put my foot down, though, over where they put me. The townsfolk wanted a raised stage where I’d preside over the debauch, but I just shook my head.

  “Cap’n should be with his crew, ye ken,” I told them. “Might seem like we lord over ‘em, an’ in my case, that might be more the truth, but I ain’t a lord or a commander like ye might be used to. I work an’ I lead, but most of all, I take responsibility for failure, an’ I might, one day, even be replaced.”

  “So, put me a table for the cap’ns and their mates here, along with places for me an’ my wives.”

  “Wives, Captain?” the mayor asked in surprise.

  “Oh, yes, Lord Mayor.” Mary clung tightly to my arm and fluttered her eyelashes vapidly at the paunchy man and his mutton chops. “That would be me, the siren, the black-furred girl with the cute pointed ears, and the orc woman there that seems to be talking to the tree.” She pointed to where Adra was, in fact, arguing with a tree spirit over something or other.

  The man, for his credit, just nodded, collected the information he needed, and went to handle things.

  All of that, then, led to now. The party was to last from noonday to noonday, though folks could come and go as they wished. I did, though, have something to say as the crews and captains gathered.

  Once they were all in, I climbed up onto an empty table that had been set aside for this express purpose and roared for silence.

  That worked as well as it always had. Conversations cut off mid-word, and every buccaneer stopped and just stared at me. I grinned and began.

  “Alright, ye lot,” I told them. “We’ve been through much in a pretty short time. Some o’ ye might even still be tryin’ to understand how ye went from bein’ a good, Imperial sailor to a pirate, or even how ye managed to hire on with crews barmy enough to go cannon-to-cannon with Ol’ Death
’s Head himself.”

  “Ye’ve fought the biggest bastard of a Commodore ever to sail, an’ done it twice! Ye’ve faced fish-men, lascu, an’ Imperial warships, an’ lived to tell the tale. Hell, ye’ve got stories o’ things ye were a part of, that folks’ll barely even believe.” I fell silent and looked around at the gathered faces, orcs, humans, dwarves, and others. Somewhere in the back, I even spied the elf, Kieran, and wondered for a moment what she was doing there.

  Before anyone could interrupt, though, I picked up the strands of my thoughts and continued. “Now, ye’ve seen a treasure ship raised from the bottom by the hand o’ the sea itself and fought against The Pale Horse herself. What makes me prouder’n anything, though, is that I got to do it right there with ye!” I raised a mug of the best rum Insmere had to offer and grinned. “So right now, I salute all o’ ye right bastards, scurvy dogs, landlubbers an’ seasick drunkards that’ve ever been my extreme displeasure t’have to sail with. Yo ho, ye buccaneers. Yo ho.” I drained the mug and threw it down, the crockery exploding against the cobblestones of the courtyard.

  “Yo ho!” the gathered pirates yelled in a chorus that filled the air and my heart to bursting.

  Was I proud? Hell yes. Happy, too. I roared again for quiet.

  “From now ‘til noon tomorrow, ye drink, eat, dance, wench, drink some more, an’ pass out in yer own puke,” I told them. “After that, ye assemble like civilized crew, an’ accept yer shares. I’m a bit loathe to give ‘em out because I suspect half o’ ye might head for the hills an’ buy a farm so ye can marry a milkmaid or a blacksmith an’ never see the sea again, but ‘tis my duty as Cap’n to inform ye o’ this one important thing.” Once again, I paused for the sheer drama of it.

  Mary, Ligeia, Tabitha, and Adra all grinned up at me from our table, Jimmy shot me a playful salute, Jenny Nettles sitting across his lap with a big smile on her face.