Orc Pirate: Raiding the Seven Seas

by Simon Archer

  “I’ve an offer for ye, Captain Bardak,” the old orc said with a deep growl. “The town’ll pay ye in goods, and I’ll pay ye out o’ me own coffers. Jetsam’s offerin’ a full load o’ supplies, powder, shot, and repairs for your boards and linens. I’m offerin’ a hundredweight in gold.”

  “What would ye have us do?” I asked, my voice growing quiet. That was a generous offer, more than enough to keep The Hullbreaker well-supplied for a year or more, or for a captain to consider seriously retiring . I suspected I knew what the old orc was about to ask me, but I wanted to hear it from his own lips.

  “Help break this blockade,” Sturmgar answered. “If we get another fog like the one this morning, ye could assault a couple of the ships out there with small boats, force the others to rescue their comrades. We have a pair o’ warships in harbor that we could have standing ready. If ye could manage to set on them under cover o’ fog, then signal us, we could add our own cannon and crew to the fray.”

  “How many Admiralty ships are out there?” I asked thoughtfully. His answer would tell me if this plan was feasible at all. “We didn’t get close enough to count them.”

  Sturmgar frowned around his tusks and held up a hand. Five ships, then. With witches, though, the Commodore could counter Mary’s weatherwork, despite her confidence, especially if Arde had replenished his coven after dumping her on Broward.

  If I could get enough crew aboard one or two of the Admiralty ships, I could turn their cannons on their comrades, damage the other ships, and try to draw them off from the blockade enough to allow Jetsam’s men-o-war to join the fray. It could work, and we might even be able to send Commodore Arde straight to the bottom of the sea along with The Indomitable. That would make lots of people very happy and send The Hullbreaker and me straight to the top of the Admiralty’s most-wanted list.

  Nothing would please me more. If they were chasing me around the Northern Sea, then they weren’t making trouble for the free towns.

  “We’ll see what we can do, Sturmgar,” I answered finally. “My word is given.”

  “List the supplies ye need, then, and I’ll make sure it happens. Ye’ll get half the gold up front, too.” The mayor let out a long, deep breath. “Thank ye, Captain, on behalf of myself, Jetsam, and the free towns.”

  I nodded and looked over at Shrike. “Think ye can handle getting us outfitted, Mister Shrike?”

  “Aye, Cap’n,” he replied. “How many cannons do we need powder and balls for?”

  “Twenty-six eighteen pounders, two nine pounders, four six pounders,” I replied. “We’re at about a half-load of powder and shot for the eighteens and two-thirds for the rest.”

  He thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. “We secured about half o’ the food ye really wanted, plus we need drink. I can handle this, Cap’n, if the lord don’t mind me accompanying him?”

  “Not at all,” Sturmgar grunted and pushed himself up from the table. “I think we’d best get going then, Mister… Shrike, was it?”

  “Aye, sir,” he replied as he rose. “New to The Hullbreaker, but not to sailin’.”

  “Good, good,” the old orc said as they started walking towards the door. “Ye seem a mite familiar…”

  I sat back in my chair, cup in hand, and stared after them as the door swung shut. There wasn’t any rush, but I did want to know how my crew was doing. Since there had been no distant shots, likely all was quiet. There was, however, such a thing as ‘too quiet.’

  It wasn’t long, though, before the tavern door swung open and a disheveled Mary Night slipped in. I raised a hand to wave her over, received a smile and nod in return, and shortly after she dropped into the seat Sturmgar had vacated.

  “Mission accomplished, Captain,” she reported. “The two survivors will live to fight again after some rest.” Her eyes drifted to the jug and cups. Without a word, I poured a cup and pushed it over to her. She took it with a grateful smile and tossed it back. “Thank ye, Captain. I needed that.” A smile touched her lips as she put the cup back on the table, then pushed it back in my direction.

  I let out a chuckle and refilled it. She drew it back and closed her eyes for a moment, still smiling. Then, with a soft sigh, she opened her mismatched eyes and studied me.

  “Lots of talk out in the town,” she murmured.

  “I know,” I said with a nod and refilled my own cup. The jug ran dry about halfway through, and I growled softly, holding it and letting the last drops fall. “We’ve been enlisted to help deal with the current problem.”

  “I suppose I expected that from the moment we saw that the Commodore was ahead of us.” She looked down and drummed long-nailed fingers on the wooden tabletop before picking up her cup and taking a conservative sip. “Ye have a plan, I suppose?”

  “Heh,” I grunted and sipped from my own cup. The rum didn’t burn as it had at first, but it did warm all the way to my stomach. “The bare bones o’ one.”

  “Long as it involved sendin’ that bastard Arde and my ‘sisters’ to the bottom of Mother Sea, count me in,” she spat.

  I narrowed my eyes and studied the beautiful witch. Rage was something I understood, and this young changeling simmered with it. Her mismatched eyes blazed as she lifted her head a bit. Our gazes met for a moment, and just like that, I knew she was in for it all. The witch was mine first, and The Hullbreaker’s next, body and soul.

  I leaned back slowly, matching her as I swallowed back a surge of raw, carnal desire. “The Lord o’ Jetsam suggested we try to capture a ship or two under the cover o’ fog. What do ye think o’ that?”

  She blinked, and her skin reddened noticeably, a big disadvantage of being as pale as she was. Did she have the same feelings as me?

  “If the Commodore has replaced me, then we’re in for a fight,” she replied, her voice low and husky for a moment before it cleared. “I could outweave a single witch no matter who she be, even stand spell-to-spell against two witches, but three or more would be challenging…”

  “What would ye need to pull it off?” I asked and took another drink. The rum was going away too fast, but I didn’t want to get more yet.

  Mary shrugged and shifted in her chair. “Time, Captain. Time or help. Both would be best.”

  I shook my head. “Both o’ these things are lacking, lass. Admiral Layne is on the way, as ye said, and I don’t know of any witches or warlocks around here with yer kind o’ background.”

  “I know it,” she observed, “but the healer did help me with what materials he could spare, so I’m not drawing on my own strength alone.” Her brow furrowed in thought. “Ye said this was Old Man’s Isle, aye?”

  “It is,” I answered, tilting my head as I regarded her. “Ye know something?”

  “Blackwater Lagoon. Is it here?”

  I let my eyes close, envisioning the shape of the island and what I remembered of it. There was a lagoon to the Northeast, maybe ten miles as the crow flies. From the maps I’d seen, it was called… “Blackwater Lagoon, aye. Why do ye want to know?”

  She gave me a sly smile. “Because someone is living there who might be able to help us.”

  “Damn it, lass!” I brought my fist down on the table, making the cups and jug bounce and momentarily silencing the other conversations in the place. My voice dropped. “I know ye witches have games ye like to play, but this is neither the time nor the place. I’m inclined to trust ye, but I need ye to be straight with me.”

  The sudden outburst didn’t seem to have fazed her, and she still wore that smile as she raised a slim hand. “Peace, Captain. Some of the sisterhood spoke of a siren that dwelled in Blackwater Lagoon on Old Man’s Isle. We share fey blood, so she might listen to and aid me.”

  I nodded slowly. A siren would be a strong but dangerous ally, able to charm men to sleep with her song or lure them to their deaths in the cold depths with her gaze. The tales spoke of them as monsters, fearsome tales of the sea. In appearance, they were beautiful women, almost human in appearance, but with so
me notable characteristics belying their sea-dwelling nature: gills, extra eyelids, webbed fingers and toes, and even retractable fins. At least that was what the stories said.

  “If ye’re sure, Mary, we can take the risk,” I said at last. “Once the rest o’ the crew is assembled and we have supplies on the way to the ship, we can sail around the island and pay her a visit.”

  “No, Captain,” Mary said firmly. “We have to go overland and soon. Yon witches are working up a storm, I can feel it. Time is short, and they’re being sloppy about it for the sake of speed.”

  “Damn it all,” I swore. “How do I know ye speak the truth?”

  “Step outside. Ye should be able to feel it, as connected to the sea as ye are.” She tossed back her rum and stood smoothly. “Seek your proof and leave the men a message.”

  I sat where I was, watching her through hooded eyes. “Did the Commodore tolerate this kind o’ behavior, lass?” I asked quietly.

  Mary froze in her tracks and then, slowly, bowed her head. “Apologies, Captain. I did not mean to appear to tell you what to do.” She met my eyes again with a wry smile and sheepish look. “I just wanted to suggest that we move quickly and that you and I would be able to get there faster than everyone together.”

  “Ye’re right, lass, but it’s generally polite, even as ship’s witch, to advise and suggest to the captain, rather than try an’ tell him what to do.” I held her gaze as she chewed on her lower lip and fidgeted… then I stood and grinned. Despite being fairly certain she had an ulterior motive for trying to get me out into the wilderness of Old Man’s Isle alone, she’d given me no reason not to trust her. I was certain that Mary would do anything in her power to help destroy Commodore Arde and his fleet, and that was reason enough for me not to doubt her.

  “Aye, Captain,” she said, her tone one of sincere apology as she looked down at her bare feet.

  “Good.” I stalked around the table. “I’ll leave a message for the crew with Greza. Meet me outside, an’ we’ll be off.”

  9

  Greza, the barkeep, knew my crew about as well as she knew me. We weren’t strangers in Jetsam by a long shot. I left a message with her to inform them that I had left with Mary Night to enlist aid to help deal with Commodore Arde and that I’d be back at the beach where we’d landed in about twenty-four hours if all went well. With that done, I stepped outside into the cool air of the early evening. There was a heaviness to the air and a strong briny smell along with growing thunderclouds off to the south.

  Mary was right, not that I was surprised. A storm was coming, and whether it was brewed by Arde’s remaining witches or not, it promised trouble. Speaking of my own witch, she stood waiting beside the door of the tavern.

  “Are ye ready, Captain?”

  I nodded. “I’ve left a missive for the crew, and I’ve got some dried meat, fruit, and a skin full of grog. Let’s get this over with so we can get back to sea.”

  The witch grinned and fell in beside me as I stalked off through the dirt and cobbled streets. A couple of orcish laborers shuffled out of our path, and a human merchant, towing a small cart of root vegetables, called out an apology and pulled his goods to the side. The few other residents still on the streets paused and watched us go.

  Did I have such a fearsome reputation even in the free towns? The Hullbreaker had never fought against them, nor had we raided them. It was bad form to, as they say, shit where you eat. All of our focus, until now, had been against the Milnian Empire and their shipping.

  That changed the moment Broward tried to assassinate me. I frowned to myself and took a closer look at the people of Jetsam as we neared the gate. There were humans, orcs, a handful of dwarves and goblins, and…

  Damn my eyes, was that an elf? I paused, narrowed eyes gazing off in the direction of a glassblower’s shop as a pale, thin-featured face quickly withdrew behind the curtains. Lost in her own thoughts, Mary didn’t seem to have noticed and kept walking towards the path out into the surrounding wilderness with determination.

  If there were elves in the free towns, what did that mean? I started off after her again, lengthening my stride to catch up. What was going on? It certainly bore investigation, but not just yet. There would be time enough after we broke the blockade of Jetsam and sent Commodore Arde to the bottom of the Northern Sea.

  Mary glanced up at me as I rejoined her, and we hurried on to the gate. The guards didn’t offer any challenge as they recognized us, but one did call out, “Cap’n, we’re closin’ the gate at dark-fall, and scouts report there might still be some Imperials out there.”

  “Thank ye,” I called back as I have the guard a wave. “We’ll have a care, aye.” With that, we passed through the gate onto the forested path. Twilight was creeping in, shadows grew longer, and I imagined the sun sinking low on the western horizon.

  “Damn,” Mary grumbled. “How far to the lagoon, Captain?”

  “About ten miles as the crow flies.” I shrugged and started off along the path. “Three or four hours through the forest, provided we don’t need to take a rest.”

  Mary muttered something to herself before speaking up. “We’ve about an hour of light left, so we’ll be getting there about two or three hours after sundown.”

  “Aye. Is there a problem, lass?” I peered sidelong at her as we paced along. She was keeping up with my stride easily, which raised her another notch, in my opinion. Mary was small but spirited and tough. I liked that.

  “I don’t think so, Captain,” she replied. “Ye know I’m pushing a gamble, aye?”

  I let out a deep chuckle. “Oh, aye. You want to ally with a siren on the basis of a bit o’ shared blood. I’d call ye daft if I didn’t think ye had somethin’ tucked into that bodice o’ yours.”

  She let out a nervous giggle. “I’ll hope your faith isn’t misplaced.”

  With another chuckle, I went silent. We were moving at a good pace along the path, close to a lope for me and a jog for her, and darkness was falling quickly. That wasn’t a problem for me, of course. All the greenskin races originated in dark places such as caves, swamps, and the deepest forests, and we all had adapted to see as well in the dark as we did under the light of the sun.

  Mary didn’t seem to be having any problems either, not like a human would have in the dark, anyway. I kept an eye on her, though. It wouldn’t do for us to be delayed by an injury in the dark. The trail was safe enough, maintained by the Jetsam guards, but once we turned off to head for the lagoon, we’d be on our own.

  Overhead, the faint light of the moon glimmered behind the growing clouds. Whatever Arde’s witches were doing, they were moving fast, or else the weather was already bearing down on Old Man’s Isle, and they just encouraged it. Another day, perhaps two, and life on the island would get bogged down in wind and rain. The mayor’s warships would be trapped in the harbor, while the Admiralty ships, protected by their witches, would be able to sail about where they wished.

  A lot depended on the severity of the coming storm, but it didn’t feel weak. I sped up a bit, and Mary kept pace. If she could do this on the broken terrain after we left the trail, we’d shave off a bit of time, and we were close too.

  “Here,” I said and turned without slowing, dodging around trees and crashing through the brush. Speed, not stealth, was what we needed.

  Or so I thought.

  We were almost to the lagoon when I suddenly came to a halt and reached for my pistols. Something was wrong.

  Suddenly, a sharp whistle sounded, and armed men, hooded and cloaked, burst out from the vegetation around us. There were enough arrows pointed in our direction to turn the both of us into right porcupines for the few moments it would take us to bleed out.

  “Hands up!” one of the men commanded, a bit shorter and stockier than the rest. I complied and felt Mary press against my back, cowering in my shadow as she whispered something under her breath.

  “See, sergeant?” another of the men spoke. “Arilynne said they’d try to reac
h the lagoon.”

  “And right she was,” said the leader. “Get a lantern up here and let’s see what we’ve bagged.”

  They didn’t seem to have noticed Mary behind me. Perhaps she’d worked a hex or cast a spell, and she’d certainly taken advantage of the darkness and my bulk to stay hidden. She also hadn’t abandoned me to my fate. I grinned as one of the interlopers produced a hooded lantern and opened it to illuminate me.

  At just that instant, Mary patted my back three times, then took off running into the forest directly in front of the surprised Imperials. Several of them turned and loosed arrows, while others shouted and at least two gave chase. The sergeant began to bellow for order.

  It was perfect. Mary, the darkness, and the confusion she’d sown gave me every advantage I needed, and I took them. I drew both pistols, fired, then hurled one at the lantern before I dropped the second and drew my great axe.

  The sergeant took one shot in the belly and fell backward with a yell, and my second shot caught the shoulder of one of the archers. He was thrown into a staggering spin, bow going one way and arrow going another. My thrown pistol knocked the lantern from the hand of the Imperial that held it, and while the light didn’t go out and the oil didn’t spill, the random shadows and dancing lights added to the chaos.

  When I charged into close combat, it was almost too easy. My roar of anger echoed through the quiet woods and actually caused some of my opponents to reel back. The first sweep of the axe knocked a man down with part of his head caved in, and the return swipe ripped an archer’s bow arm in twain at the elbow. My next hack silenced his screams, splitting his head and bearing him down to the ground.

  Out in the woods, a man shrieked before his voice trailed off into a gurgle that quickly silenced, a clear sign that Mary had claimed a kill.