Orc Pirate: Raiding the Seven Seas

by Simon Archer

  “I can vouch for the Captain,” Mary spoke up as she padded over to join us, taking a place next to me. “If ye know anything of this particular man, it’s that he is honorable.”

  “I do not know if honor has anything to do with how I feel,” Ligeia said hesitantly and lifted her face once more. “I… want to let myself go, to drown in these desires, but something makes me hesitate.”

  The witch reached out and put a comforting hand on the siren’s slim shoulder. “Captain, may I take Ligeia below and speak with her?” she asked quietly.

  Ligeia paused and looked from Mary to me and back, her eyes searching for something.

  “As ye will, Mary,” I replied. “An’ Ligeia, ye be free to do as ye will, an’ love who ye will…” My voice trailed off a bit as she nodded and turned. The two left the aft castle deck to go below, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

  It’s a common belief in many circles that orcs are nothing more than creatures of passion, rage, lust, and hate being the emotions we most commonly express. We’re not well regarded by the more civilized races, but then, they aren’t orcs.

  We do love and strongly, just as we hate with gusto and plan vengeance that can result in hundreds, if not thousands of deaths. Violence is our blessing and our curse, and fire burns in the breast of every orc born.

  I was no different. Sure, I could control myself, but any orc could, just like any human, dwarf, or elf could. My kind was a bit more prone to be ruled by their emotions, but I had years of experience keeping that side of me under control.

  That also earned me a decent understanding of the emotions of others, and when combined with my sharp nose, I was hard to fool. The siren, fey that she was, was a simple creature. She had never had any reason to conceal her emotions until a man had stolen her heart and betrayed her.

  Another reason to bring Bloody Bill to heel, I figured.

  The two women hadn’t returned by the time I coaxed The Hullbreaker into a berth in the crowded port. My men threw lines to the shoremen, and we were secured a minute later.

  “Mister Shrike!” I bellowed across the deck.

  After a few moments, my new first mate appeared at my side. “Cap’n?”

  “Ye know where Bloody Bill might be hidin’,” I told him, then raised my hand as he opened his mouth to protest. “I know he an’ any men he’s got will recognize ye, but I think we’ll move faster havin’ ye along.”

  Shrike paused and nodded. “Aye, Cap’n. Ye have the right of it. I…” He trailed off, staring behind me out over the crowd of docked ships.

  I turned and peered off in the direction he was looking. There was a distinct lack of Imperial vessels in port, and a couple that I was certain were well-known pirate ships, but what had drawn the man’s attention, I wasn’t sure.

  “What d’ye see, Shrike?”

  He pointed to a new-looking ship, a frigate much like mine, but longer, carrying four masts. She was built for speed, it seemed. No colors flew from her mainmast, and I couldn’t make out the name painted on her prow.

  “Bastard went and did it,” my mate muttered, “which means he’s actually here.”

  “What are ye talkin’ about?” I growled as I put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in close.

  That woke him up from whatever distraction held him prisoner. “Bloody Bill, Cap’n. He was always on about how he was going to build a new, faster, better galleon. Somethin’ to strike fear in the hearts o’ everyone at sea.” Shrike pointed towards the four-master. “That be her, just as he described. That be The Witch’s Promise.”

  “I’ll set a watch on her, then,” I said with a nod. “No way is Bill Markland going to slip by us, not when we’re this bloody close.”

  “What are we talking about, Captain? Mister Shrike?” Mary appeared at my side without Ligeia.

  “Bill’s definitely here, according to Shrike,” I replied as I gestured to the Promise. “With a new ship to boot.”

  “Wonder of wonders,” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Before ye ask, Ligeia is going to wait below ‘til darkest night, then slip into the water. There, she’ll wait for us to call her. Tiny’s out near the edge of the shelf where he won’t draw attention to himself, but he can be in port wrecking things within fifteen minutes.”

  I scowled a bit, but it wouldn’t be good to discourage proactive thinking on the part of my witch and the siren. They were two of the most dangerous people I knew, and I was glad they were on my side.

  “Good,” was all I said. We could hold out the fifteen or so minutes it would take for Tiny to reach us and probably for the thirty or so it would take Kargad to do the same. “Ye’re goin’ into town with Shrike an’ me, Mary.”

  “Hold a moment, Captain,” she said, chewing on her lip. “I’ll need to throw together hex bags for the three of us and any others ye mean to take on this search. ‘Twas the ship I enchanted to guard against Cerridwen’s foresight, but the moment we step off of her, yon witch will know.”

  I definitely needed to learn more about magic. Crossing my arms, I nodded and grunted, “See to it, then.”

  Mary smiled to Shrike and me then was gone, darting off below-decks to her room most likely.

  “Ye be a lucky man, Cap’n,” Shrike said with a sigh as he glanced over at me. “An’ a bit more like Bill than I expected.”

  “How so?” I asked curiously.

  Bloody Bill Markland was probably the most famed pirate in the archipelago, his name reaching all the way to the Imperial mainland and into Milnest as well. He was known to be quite the bloodthirsty one, almost orcish in his dealings. I didn’t think the comparison was bad, but I didn’t like the fact that the man had betrayed his crew and hoped it wasn’t that which Shrike saw in me.

  Shrike gave me a crooked smile. “Ye’re bigger’n life an’ likable. Ye have yer crew on yer side, believin’ everything ye tell ‘em. Some even can’t help but love ye, like the witch.” He tucked his thumbs into his broad belt and faced me squarely. “But unlike ol’ Bill, ye mean everything ye say.”

  I nodded slowly. The man’s words struck home and maybe had a bit more impact than I truly cared to admit. There was one thing for certain, I would never betray my men like Bloody Bill.

  “I’ll not betray ye,” I asserted, fixing Shrike with my sharpest gaze.

  “Aye, Cap’n.” Shrike nodded and flashed a smile across his sharp features. “I know that. I just ain’t sure how I know it. Just be aware that Bloody Bill had the love o’ his witch, too, an’ it just may be what drove him to this.”

  “You worry too much, Mister Shrike,” I grunted and folded my arms as I turned my gaze back out over the bustling docks.

  Tarrant was a busy town even after dark, and well-lit, too. Stevedores and shoremen loaded and unloaded the many ships that crowded the port, merchants and seamen shouted and argued and went about their business while the great cliff side loomed above. Rickety looking stairs and balconies wove their way through dwellings and businesses attached to or carved into the very stone, while at the top, the lights of Uptown Tarrant glittered against the night sky.

  It wasn’t too much longer before Mary returned, a small burlap pouch resting between her breasts on a leather thong. She passed similar ones to Shrike and me.

  “This will cloud Cerridwen’s foresight enough for us to get close to Bill Markland. It won’t last but a full day and night, but that should be enough, aye?”

  I glanced over at Shrike for affirmation. He just shrugged and said, “I’m thinkin’ that either we find him in a day or not at all.”

  “Aye.” I then turned away from both of them to bellow, “Bord!”

  Moments later, the dwarven cannon-master came stumping up, his beard braided and tossed over his shoulder. “Ye called, Captain?” he said with a grin. “Looks like ye plan on goin’ ashore.”

  “We do,” I affirmed. “Need ye to mind the ship. Daka an’ Dogar’ll be yer seconds, in case anybody gets out o’ line. Nagra an’ Mocker’ll support ye,
too. I don’t think any o’ the crew will give ye trouble, but I have my concerns about some o’ the other captains about.”

  The dwarf snorted. “Anyone ye want me to ‘incidentally’ keep a cannon on?”

  Mary couldn’t hold back a laugh at that, and both Shrike and I smirked.

  “Ye see yon four-master?” I said as I pointed toward Bill’s ship.

  Bord peered off into the night, his keen eyes focusing on the indicated ship. “Aye. Poncy lookin’ thing, ain’t she?”

  That brought a few more snorts of laughter, and I nodded. “Keep watch on her. If she starts to cast off, send a runner for me an’ yell overboard for Ligeia. She’ll take word to Kargad. That be Bloody Bill’s new ship, an’ I ain’t inclined to let him get away from us.”

  “I’ll keep a sharp eye on that one, then.” The dwarf grinned slyly through his beard and scratched a reddened cheek with a stubby-fingered hand. “Ye don’t get two chances at a blackheart like William Markland.”

  “Aye, that’s the truth,” Shrike muttered in agreement. “At least it ain’t likely he’ll flee deeper into Bargest if we end up on his heels.”

  “I would,” I said with a shrug.

  Mary put a hand on my arm. “Aye, we know ye are not like most captains, sir,” she said, laughter in her eyes. “We know ye want to make sure we all know that ye are not like Bloody Bill Markland.”

  “We’re grateful for that,” Shrike muttered and shrugged.

  I took a deep breath and let it out. “Aye, fine. Once we’re done skulkin’ about an’ waylayin’ shit-mongers like yer former Captain, I’m thinkin’ we sail off an’ do some proper raidin’ an’ piracy. Really stir things up in the Admiralty.”

  “I like that idea,” Mary purred, her eyes drifting up to meet mine.

  I grinned and played at mimicking a human by offering my witch an arm. “Shall we?” I asked. She took it, then reached over and pulled Shrike in as well.

  “Aye, me boyos,” she grinned as he gawped. “Let’s go find Bloody Bill Markland.”

  21

  Night in Tarrant allowed for somewhat easier movement through the streets because the normal crowds were diminished by about half. Shrike took the lead and set a quick pace. The faster we could move without attracting suspicion, the better our chances of cornering Bill in one of his dens.

  The folks out at night were mostly the less reputable sorts. Thugs hung out in alleyways and scoped for victims. Prostitutes flaunted their wares and beckoned to potential clients from doorways and balconies. Occasionally, a mercenary or thug of some sort stood like a guard or bouncer in front of some home or establishment, glowering at anyone who passed.

  Anything could be found for sale here; drugs, sex, food and drink, weapons, and even slaves. Open trade in sentient beings was generally frowned upon in the light of day, but at night, in the back rooms and secret parlors, deals were made, and special packages exchanged hands.

  This was Tarrant, the gem of the free cities.

  We made our way through darkened alleys and switchbacks, heading deep into Lowtown, the lower portion of Tarrant. I hated the rickety lifts, and the bastards who built the stairs leading up through the stone cliff had a total inability to make anything straight or large enough for an orc. This lovely den of iniquity had been founded by humans, the only species crazier than dwarves when it came to working earth and stone.

  I stalked along behind Shrike while Mary followed in my shadow, her eyes gleaming in the dark. Shrike, though, moved from lighted spot to lighted spot, his head moving to and fro as he kept an almost paranoid watch on his surroundings.

  At one junction, some toughs eyed us from the darkness of a side alley. I glowered at them, and they faded back. It was almost disappointing. Tarrant always set me on edge.

  About halfway to the Touch O’ Gold, furtive movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. We were being followed. I wasn’t sure yet by whom, but there were definitely several men trailing us.

  They were spread out, too. One or two behind, at least one on each flank, and maybe even a couple ahead. Were these Bill’s men, come to dissuade us from talking to their boss, or were they something else?

  I nudged Mary, and she spared me a glance and a furtive nod. She’d noticed them, and from the slight shift in Shrike’s posture, he had too. We had two options at this point, either we could go to confront them, or we could let them do whatever it was they planned for us. Personally, I preferred the first option, and since I was the captain.

  With a low whistle, I stopped and turned, then stalked towards the two men I knew had been on our tail. They drew up short, but instead of challenging me, they both drew swords. The few people out and about on the street all withdrew quickly, while four more toughs closed in from different points of the compass.

  Shrike shot me a glance and drew his knives, while Mary just quirked a smile and pushed back her hair. When she dropped her hands, they were in easy reach of her knives.

  Me, I readied my axe. We were in fairly wide quarters, so I’d have no trouble with it, at least for now.

  “One chance to surrender, orc,” one of the attackers said firmly, a nondescript-looking gentleman in dark leathers and a hooded cloak. His outfit and his weapons were too good for the usual riff-raff you’d find on a Tarrant street. Either he was a mercenary under contract with one of the wealthier groups in the town, or he didn’t belong here.

  “Tell us who wants our company, human,” I said by way of answer, “an’ we’ll consider the offer.”

  Another man spat and shifted his stance, while the first raised his hand in a gesture to hold. “You’re a wanted man, Bardak Skullsplitter, and certain interests want you to pay for what you did at Insmere and Jetsam.”

  “You’re Imperials,” Mary said flatly. Both of her knives were out now.

  “It hardly matters,” another of our assailants snarled, but another gesture from their leader stifled his protests.

  “I just thought I’d give you a chance to come peaceably,” the leader said with a shrug. “What say you?”

  “While there is a touch of appeal to yer offer,” I said with a smirk, “I fear I will be needin’ to decline.”

  “So be it,” he said with a nod of his head, and they were upon us.

  Two of the agents came at each of us, trying for a fast takedown. These men were good, too, probably long-term infiltrators and assassins called up by the Admiral’s authority. Maybe if I hadn’t killed an Imperial governor and shelled his town, they wouldn’t be so insistent, but where was the fun in that?

  I didn’t give my own dance partners a chance to get close, fending them off with tight swings of my great axe that kept them at bay. Swords rang on wood and steel as we engaged and backed off, unable to find a way through my wall of axe swings.

  Mary and Shrike both dueled with their pairs, taking advantage of their light loads and quickness to keep the swordsmen at bay. This wasn’t going to be a long fight. The moment Mary brought her evil eye to bear or I started connecting with axe swings, it’d be over swiftly.

  Unless these men had some kind of unseen defenses, and with Admiralty resources, they just might. They might even have a witch of their own, especially as quickly as the news had reached them.

  If so, I’d deal with it all the same. It would just take longer.

  Pushing that thought aside, I kept swinging. So long as I kept my axe moving, the swordsmen couldn’t get close, but they were cagey and tried to separate, forcing me to split my attention and keep my head turning.

  It was an old trick and maybe would have stood a chance at working if I were even a few years younger and less wise to the ways of dirty fighting. Once the two were far enough apart that they couldn’t easily support each other, I charged one with a roar, swatted aside his blade, and plowed my shoulder into him with a satisfying crunch. I carried him up into my run, and my course ended at a stone wall with the poor sod in the middle.

  With another crunch and crack of bones, the
Imperial went limp, and I turned to face his partner as the body fell to the streets. To his credit, the second man wasted no time in gawking. He was the group’s leader, after all, and he went in for the kill.

  I barely got out of the way of his sword thrust, parried another swing with the haft of my axe, then pulled away as the bastard attempted to slice one of my hands open by sliding his blade along the wooden haft of my axe. My quick retreat turned into a spinning strike that went low and forced him to jump, but he wasn’t safe. I let the axe’s momentum carry me around into a second swing backed by all my power and the speed of my spin. That caught the man on his descent and threw him across the road, one arm chopped clean off and a deep gash in his chest for his troubles. He hit the cobblestones and lay still in a spreading pool of blood.

  As I spun to my crewmates to aid in their battles, I saw that both of Mary’s assailants lay at her feet, their throats opened. Her evil eye shone in the dim light, and a fierce grin was on her face. Shrike, too, seemed to have had little trouble. One of the men who’d faced the thin pirate was on the ground clutching a gut wound, while the other was in the process of falling away as my first mate yanked one of his long knives from beneath the fellow’s chin.

  “Either o’ ye hurt?” I asked as I walked over to rejoin my witch. She flashed me a look that promised fire in the bed once we had that chance, then shook her head.

  “I’m fine,” Mary said as she cleaned her blades and slid them back into their sheaths.

  “‘Twas close, but I’m good, Captain,” Shrike called as he walked over to the dying man and knelt down. “Ye have anythin’ to ask this blackheart before he shuffles off this mortal coil?”

  “Nothin’ he’ll answer,” I said, shaking my head as I shouldered my axe.

  The man groaned as he tried to get up, but Shrike held him back. “Bastards,” the thug spat out at us. My first mate gave him a quick pat-down and retrieved a pouch which he pocketed. I hadn’t bothered rolling the other bodies. Individuals, I’d found, rarely carry enough gold to be worth the trouble.