by Simon Archer
Tarrant’s port opened almost straightaway into the sea, and there were always ships riding at anchor a distance from the port. It was among these that Kargad had hidden Sirensong, and his orders were to join in behind us as we sailed after Bloody Bill.
Once she was far enough out, Bill’s ship began to set its sails to catch the wind and turned slowly to the west. I suspected that he was setting course back towards the Aigon Straits, where the Admiralty had captured and likely scuttled his old ship. What was her name? Oh, yes, The Fallen Angel. More like The Sunken Angel now, I thought as I chuckled to myself.
“What are ye laughing about, my Captain?” Mary wanted to know. She’d left the rail and slipped over quietly to stand beside me at the helm.
“Oh, just thinkin’ about Bill’s old ship,” I told her, “an’ how her name needs a change, considerin’ what happened.”
She returned a puzzled look, and I grumbled softly as I was forced to explain why I’d laughed. It really took the fun out of a joke to have to explain it, but Mary added her own twist to the tale.
“They captured her with all hands,” she told me, “so it’d be more like The Captive Angel, aye?”
We both got a laugh at that as behind us, Sirensong separated itself from the other anchored fishermen, traders, and privateers that waited off Tarrant’s port and fell in behind us. Off to port, Tiny’s head broke water for a moment, blew a plume of water into the air, and vanished again. I fancied I saw Ligeia give me a wave from her place on the monster’s shell before both of them were back under the waves. The morning was chilly and the wind bracing, but it was still nothing like the winters of my youth.
“So what do ye want to do about her?” I asked Mary at last.
“About Cerridwen? I don’t know,” Mary said with a shrug of her shoulders. She fidgeted as her brow furrowed in thought. “She’s dangerous, but she was my friend, once, so I’m rather loathe to kill her outright.”
I nodded thoughtfully and looked out over the busy deck. The sails had filled, and we were picking up speed though we weren’t running under full cloth yet. Bill’s ship, though, was already pulling ahead as her sails filled and drove her forward, faster than I had imagined a galleon to be able to sail. Even with all the Hullbreaker’s sails raised, we’d be hard pressed to keep up with her. Shrike hadn’t overestimated what he’d said about Bill’s ship.
“Can we trust her not to make trouble if we give her run o’ the ship?” I asked before quickly adding, “Under watch, o’ course, by ye or Nagra.”
Mary frowned and pursed her lips, closed her eyes a moment, and fidgeted her hands together. Finally, she shook her head. “Nay. No more than ye could trust me if I were your hostage.”
“Fair enough. She stays confined an’ witch-bound ‘til we hand her back to Bloody Bill in exchange for Ligeia’s comb,” I decided, figuring Mary’s word on this was good. It wasn’t like I’d behave very well as a hostage either, so there was that.
Besides, there was no way I was going to lose my one piece of leverage against Bloody Bill Markland.
27
My sense of direction and internal map confirmed my initial hunch that Bill’s course would lead to the Aigon Straits, a narrow pass between the northwestern-most island of the archipelago, and the northeastern-most tip of Milnian lands. It was a rough passage, with currents and underwater hazards that made navigation difficult at the best of times.
It was also a favorite route for pirates and privateers fleeing in one direction or another. That made it tightly monitored from afar by the Admiralty and the elven Wavelords alike. Both groups preferred capturing their prey as far into their own territories as possible. I’d used the straits to trap a few ships in my time, too.
We were a few days out of Tarrant at this point and still a few more days from the straits. This put Bill’s treasure either on the island south of the strait or somewhere on the mainland of Milnest. Either way, we were going to be close enough that the chance of interference was high. At least the wind and weather were good, but that wasn’t going to last forever, not as we headed into autumn.
I preferred to handle the helm myself, but Mary and Ligeia liked to occupy my nights, though, unfortunately, not both at the same time yet. There was no real need for wind or weatherworking, so my witch had set to a project that kept her and Nagra below decks most of the time, leaving me alone to do my work.
At the moment, Jimmy Mocker and another female member of the crew, a broad-faced, shaved-headed she-orc by the name of Gol the Clanless, were keeping me company. As the sharpest-eyed member of the crew, Jimmy spent a lot of time in the crow’s nest being our lookout, and at that moment, he had something to report.
“We’ve picked up a tail past Sirensong, Cap’n,” the lean human reported.
Gol nodded her agreement. She was second only to Jimmy in the sharpness of her eyes, and usually, whenever one noticed something far distant, they’d call the other to confirm.
“Of course,” I spat. “Can ye tell who?”
“They be too far distant, even with the spyglass,” Jimmy replied with a firm shake of his head. “At the speed of yon galleon, though, we’ll be able to mark their colors in a day, day-and-a-half, I figure.”
“Seems to be several,” Gol added, “but they're still too far to make a clear count.”
“They’re fast, then,” I mused aloud. “I’ll have Ligeia check them out from below while the pair o’ ye keep a weather eye on them. Good work, both o’ ye.”
At that speed, they were moving faster than a courier sloop, which concerned me. As far as I knew, the Admiralty didn’t have anything that large that could outrun The Hullbreaker. Could it be pirates, then, or elves?
However you sliced it, it was trouble, and we needed information on that trouble. At least Ligeia would visit tonight, and I could send her to scout the ships trailing us. Maybe even deal with them if she thought she and Tiny would be able to handle them.
Jimmy and Gol huddled together, hashing out how they’d divvy up watches to make sure one of them was with every lookout until we could identify the ships.
I gave them a few minutes before interrupting. “Anything seem odd about The Witch’s Promise?”
They paused and looked over at me. Gol coughed, and Jimmy rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Nothin’ we can put our fingers on,” he said hesitantly.
“But somethin’ don’t seem right, Cap’n,” she added with a sidelong glance at Jimmy.
“Aye.” He nodded. “She’s got a full crew, about twice our cannons, but we only ever see Bill at the helm.”
“It’s like he don’t sleep, which is a bit disturbin’, if ye ask me,” Gol observed.
“Who in the hells knows what his witch might’ve done for the bastard?” I grumbled. At least it was good to know that I wasn’t alone in feeling something was amiss. I’d have to ask Mary if this was something she knew about, and if she did, I’d definitely have to make sure that she knew to tell me about little oddities such as a man not sleeping.
I wasn’t fancying our chances in a straight-up fight between The Hullbreaker alone against that massive ship of Bill’s, but with two ships, two witches, a siren, and a Dragon Turtle, the odds slipped more than a bit in our favor. When I thought about it, I expected this whole adventure to end in blood, and that suited me just fine. It had been too long since I had a good fight, and a part of me was itching for it.
“Do ye need us further, Cap’n?” Gol asked.
“Nay,” I shook my head. “Get about yer business an’ let me know the moment ye can identify those ships.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” they said together, saluted, and made their way off the aft castle deck.
I took a deep breath of the cold, salty air and grinned to myself. Once we had Ligeia’s comb, I planned to set a course into Milnian territory and raid there for a bit. At the very least it would get us out of Admiral Layne’s eyes for a while, and perhaps we could capture one of those elven warships, fil
l our coffers, and then head back to the archipelago for a bit of cat and mouse with the Admiralty. I hadn’t discussed this with the crew yet since I wanted a better idea of what was coming before I made a final decision.
Besides, it’s a poorly kept secret that pirates and privateers didn’t operate in the same way as naval vessels. While a pirate captain wielded a great deal of power over the crew, he or she was nowhere near as absolute as, say, an Admiralty captain. In many ways, I was more of a clan leader for my ships and was responsible for the well-being of the crew and for keeping their bloodlust and greed sated to better our position.
Maybe I needed to sail to orcish lands and do a bit more recruiting while I challenged the clan elders for the creation of a new clan, Hullbreaker Clan, with me at its head. That would give my little endeavor a bit more force behind it, and while the Erdrath Empire had mostly conquered the orcs, that subjugation was far from complete.
All the clans needed was a little push in the right direction, a spark of fire to start a revolution. If Blackburn had, indeed, ordered a purge of the ranks and the destruction of the free towns, that would be plenty enough of a spark. Then he would pay after I took out my ire on Admiral Layne and his lapdog, Commodore Arde.
A musical voice drew me back to the present. “You seem lost in thought, my Captain.” I looked over to smile at Ligeia, a smile she returned, lips pressed together in her usual fashion.
“Good to see ye, lass,” I said, and it was. Since our first encounter, I had been more aware than ever of the siren’s casual nudity and her lean, almost terrifying beauty. A drying sheen of saltwater sparkled on her skin, and a tiny drop beaded at the very tip of one of her pale nipples. My eyes lingered there for a moment, distracted, before returning to her face. “I've got a bit of a job for ye.”
“Of course, my Captain,” she said as her head dipped in acquiescence. If she noticed my lusty gaze, she made no indication.
“The lookouts spotted ships far distant behind Kargad. You're the fastest of us, and wind and current mean a lot less to ye than to us, so I’d like ye to go have a look. If ye think that ye an’ Tiny can discourage ‘em from the chase, do it, but don’t risk yourselves.” I held my gaze on her, my right hand resting on the ship’s wheel as we rose and fell with the motion of the waves.
She was silent a moment, then nodded. “Of course. Are we certain that ‘tis us they chase?”
“Jimmy and Gol seem certain,” I replied. “They also say that the ships are unnaturally fast. I could wait for my lookouts to identify them, but I think I’d like ye to have a look.”
“Thy will be done, my Captain.” Ligeia smiled again. It was passing strange how eager to please she was in the wake of our first meeting. Of course, she wanted her comb, but there was more to it than even that.
She seemed happy.
“Thank ye, lass,” I told her.
“Is there aught else ye need?” she asked, her eyes sparkling mischievously.
Of course, she wanted to play in the middle of my watch. I heaved a sigh. “Once me watch is done, then aye,” I said with a grin. “Now, though, get yer pretty arse back in the water and tell me what be followin’ me ships.”
“I shall hold ye to that, Captain,” the siren said playfully. She dipped her head to me, spun, gave a wiggle of her shapely backside, and ran for the rail. It was a quick jump to plant one bare, webbed foot on the top of it before she made a clean, elegant dive overboard, her lovely form disappearing from view.
No splash came, but I hadn’t really expected one.
She could swim as fast as a dolphin, maybe faster, and Tiny, for all his size, was able to move several times faster than the fastest ship I’d seen. They’d be out and back in hours, I figured, and maybe she’d still be in this playful mood of hers.
I swept my gaze over the deck. The crew was experienced enough to keep things ship-shape without my direct attention most of the time. With most of us being orcs, there was a strong sense of camaraderie. Few of the kindred outside of greenskins liked us, after all. The mere fact that I had humans and dwarves as part of my crew, accounting for maybe a fifth of the total numbers, was exceptional, and a tribute to my own rather genial nature.
The sun tracked its way across the sky, occasionally hiding behind swelling gray clouds that marked an end to summer. Days grew shorter, nights longer, and north sea weather drifted to squalls and unpredictable winds. Experience mattered the most during autumn and winter in this part of the world, especially where we were going. If my plan came to fruition and we struck out into Milnian waters, then there’d be few chances to drop anchor in a civilized port, unless we wanted our heads mounted on elven pikes.
As the day faded into twilight, Shrike came to relieve me. Normally, I would take the night watch on my ship, on account of my orcish dark vision, but the man had offered when I mentioned a preference for taking the helm during the day. My ulterior motive was basically transparent, as both Mary and Ligeia had been frequenting my cabin in the evening hours.
I gave my first mate a friendly nod as he took the wheel. “Did Jimmy or Gol tell ye about the tail we picked up?”
“Aye,” he replied. “Any more news, yet?”
“Nay. Ligeia’s not yet returned.”
Shrike nodded thoughtfully. “She’ll head straight to ye, like as not,” he observed. “Any particular orders before ye retire, Cap’n?”
“Nay,” I told him after thinking for a moment. We were as prepared as we were going to be. Bord had reported on the cannons an hour or so earlier, and we were well stocked with balls and powder. The hull was sound, the crew restless as usual, and there was strangeness afoot.
All in all, the situation was pretty normal.
He gave me a nod and a chest-thumping salute, which I returned. That was a little artifact of my time in the navy, and something I liked having the crew do as a sort of symbolic acknowledgment. Little things like that enforced a bit of discipline on an otherwise undisciplined crew.
When I reached my cabin and Mary wasn’t there, I was a little surprised. She had been obsessing over her project though, and I suspected she was talking with Cerridwen whenever Nagra was in attendance.
I settled behind my desk and began to pore over some old maps of the region we were headed. Beyond the straits, I mostly had kept The Hullbreaker to open water, pouncing on lone ships or lightly escorted merchantmen when the opportunity presented itself. This time, though, with two vessels, Ligeia and Tiny, we could risk more traveled waters.
With any luck, we’d be rolling in plunder by year’s end.
Mary found me doodling on one of the maps with a charcoal-tipped stick when she slipped into the cabin with a small wooden box of food from the galley.
“Good eve, my Captain,” she said, plunking the crate down on the desk as she pulled a bottle out of it.
“Hmm, what have we here?” I asked, leaning over to have a look. It was really nothing terribly special, a bit of hard bread, some cheese, and a few dried and salted fish, though my witch had managed to nick some fruit for us to enjoy after the meal.
“I just thought ye might be hungry,” she replied. “My hexwork’s near done, and,” she held up the bottle, “I’m in a mood to celebrate.”
I let out a deep laugh as she twisted the cork from the bottle and took a long drink.
“Good for ye, lass,” I boomed and reached for her.
Unfortunately, what might have turned into a filling meal and a drunken dessert was interrupted suddenly by the door of my cabin bursting open to reveal a very distraught siren.
“Captain!” Ligeia exclaimed, “I’ve news of the ships, and ‘tis far, far worse than we feared!”
28
Ligeia closed the door behind herself and rushed to me as I rose while giving Mary a glance that said, “Later.” When the siren hesitated in front of me, I simply gathered her up in my arms and held her to my chest. Her taut body fairly vibrated against mine.
“Calm, lass,” I said deeply as I st
roked her back. “Ye need to tell us what ye saw.”
Mary joined in after another swig of what smelled like rum and put her arms around both of us as best she could. She still held the bottle, and after a moment, Ligeia snatched it and took a deep drink as well. Her gills fluttered, and she closed her eyes after offering the rum back to the witch.
Mary took it and lightly kissed the siren’s cheek before pulling away and padding on bare feet over to sit on the edge of my desk, maps rustling beneath her rump.
“We did not try to stop them, my Captain,” Ligeia said softly. “There were too many.”
“Many ships?” I wanted to know.
“Many merfolk,” she answered, “and perhaps four or five ships. I could not get close enough to know for sure without being detected.”
“Bloody merfolk?” Mary exclaimed. “With ships? What in the hells is going on?”
I held up a calming hand to the witch and said, “Tell me more o’ this, Ligeia. How long ‘til they catch us, an’ can we even fight them?”
She nodded and swallowed hard before she spoke “The merfolk likely won’t range too far from the ships, no more than a few miles, perhaps, but they could be upon us soon, as they are faster than I. They will attack your hulls and rudders and anything else in the water.” She took a deep breath and seemed to steady herself. “If you fight them,” she continued, “then realize they cannot stay long in the air, but they are no sturdier than a man or a fish.”
“This sounds like a bloody mess. Did ye catch anythin’ of the ships, lass?” I asked.
“Aye!” She nodded vigorously. “One is the ship Tiny and I tried to sink after we first met.”
Commodore bloody Arde and The Indomitable. Hell’s bells, but this was getting better and better.
Mary took another drink behind me and swore softly before the bottle clinked on my desk as she sat it down. “Do ye need me to prepare anything special, my Captain?”
I glanced over at her. “Aye, if ye know somethin’ that’ll keep the buggers from knockin’ holes in the hull, or just somethin’ that’ll kill ‘em. I don’t bloody care.”