by Simon Archer
“That’s one answer. Might be something to consider if we end up in the general area of one of Bill’s troves without any other information,” Mary spoke up. She reached up and twirled a lock of her long hair around one index finger. “But we have to be.”
“What do ye think, then, mistress witch?” I asked with a smirk of my own.
She drew away from me and went to the worktable to check and stir the crucible’s contents. “Divining’s the best bet once we reach those islands, but it won’t help us until then.”
“That’s a damn shame,” I grumbled. “‘Twould be nice to not have to depend on Bill, but what’s done is done.”
“Do ye still wish to speak with Cerridwen?” Mary asked after nodding agreement. “I’m happy to accompany ye.”
I pondered for a moment before nodding. “Can ye do anythin’ to ensure she won’t turn on us if I let her free t’ fight what’s comin’?”
There was no hesitation. Mary just nodded and said, “Certainly. Ye can blood pact with her, then she’ll be forced to keep her word or lose her powers.”
That was a useful tidbit of information, but it begged the question. “Have ye got any pacts, Mary?”
“Hells no.” She snorted in derision. “I prefer being unbeholden, and the one I did have was broken when Arde sent me to Broward.” The witch folded her arms beneath her breasts and gazed at me.
“What makes ye think Cerridwen will go for a pact?” I asked.
“Freedom is a big thing for a witch, my Captain. Offer her that and agree to her terms, and there is a good chance she’ll make the pact,” Mary answered. “Even I would be sorely tempted.”
“Do ye wish to join us, Nagra?” I looked over at Kargad’s daughter.
She shook her head. “No, Cap’n,” she told me, “but I will if ye tell me to.”
“I do not see the need, my Captain,” Mary said with a shrug, “but it is your decision.”
I grunted and waved a hand dismissively at the young orc girl, then turned for the door. Mary followed, and we made our way down into the depths of the ship.
The Hullbreaker’s brig was located off the rower’s deck and guarded by an orc and a dwarf. Both saluted and opened the way into the cells. I had my own key, so it hardly mattered, but I’d seen escapes on other ships that were the result of lax guardians.
Cerridwen languished in a small cell, perhaps five by seven feet, with a bunk and a chamberpot. Her hands were wrapped in witchbindings, and a leather gag shot with silver wire was over her mouth. She eyed the pair of us sharply as we walked up to the bars.
“I need to speak with ye, lass,” I said, “but I want yer word ye won’t try anything.”
“And I am here to make sure you don’t,” Mary added with a fierce smile. “You already know that I can take you, Cerridwen, so let us keep this peaceable.”
The captive witch’s eyes narrowed angrily, but she nodded assent and sat back on the narrow bunk. I unlocked the cell, and my witch slipped in past me and undid the gag before she stepped back.
Cerridwen’s mouth worked for a minute, stretching her jaw before she spoke.
“What do you need that Cerridwen might provide?” she asked haughtily.
“Ships pursue us all,” I told her. “Commodore Arde with a small fleet, and an army of the merfolk. I don’t be thinkin’ it fair if I let Bill be disadvantaged by the lack of his witch.
Her eyes went to Mary as if to confirm what I said, and she gave a nod. “Ligeia confirmed it. A hundred or so merfolk and a small fleet with The Indomitable at the head.”
Cerridwen spat. “Is Bill aware?”
“I sent him word,” my witch answered. “My Captain wanted him to know.”
“Ye are treating us fair,” the other woman said and closed her eyes in resignation. “I suppose ye want a blood pact?”
I nodded. “Aye, witch. ‘Tis the best way to ensure ye keep yer word.”
“Fair,” she said. “What are the terms and the limits?”
I pondered that question for a moment. “Mary, ye need to stop me if I leave anything out, but here it is: Cerridwen of the Sisterhood of Witches, I, Bardak Skullsplitter, offer ye these terms. Until such time as Commodore Arde is defeated along with his fleet and until such time as Ligeia’s comb has been relinquished into her possession, ye will take no action against me or mine, even in defiance of William Markland. If I ask for aid in this time, ye will render it to the best of yer ability. In return, ye get yer freedom from those.” I waved a hand at the witch-bindings. “What say ye?”
Mary eyed me thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. Her gaze slipped over to Cerridwen while we waited for an answer.
I’d slipped out of the pirate brogue as I made my offer, which I think surprised the Danaan witch. The bound witch stammered for a moment, then went silent and gathered her thoughts before finally answering.
“I, Cerridwen Aenfar of the Sisterhood, do accept the terms of the blood pact with Captain Bardak Skullsplitter,” she said and looked up at me expectantly, offering her bound hands in supplication.
I looked to Mary who produced a small knife and offered it to me, hilt first. Taking it, I made a shallow cut in the meat of my thumb, and as blood welled up, I knelt down and made a similar cut in Cerridwen’s pale flesh. Why I did this, I couldn’t say, but it felt like the right way to go about the process. My own witch gave me a look of approval, then took my hand and Cerridwen’s and pressed the bleeding wounds together.
“I, Mary Night of the Sisterhood, bear witness to this blood pact. Under the terms, Cerridwen Aenfar shall be stripped of her powers for a year and a day should she violate the pact.” Her voice rang with authority, and a sudden pulse of energy accompanied the sealing of the pact that blinded me for a moment as it set me reeling.
When my sight returned, Cerridwen, looking dazed, was blinking in the light while Mary removed the witch-bindings.
“Did ye have to be so rough with it?” the Danaan witch asked, her eyes narrowed. Once her hands were free, she rubbed absently at them, her attention on the little changeling woman.
Mary grinned in reply. “I thought you might want a reminder of what I am, my old friend.”
30
With Cerridwen thus tamed, I called the officers for another meeting, this time with all three witches and a small cask of rum. Running for the treasure and trying to evade Commodore Arde wasn’t the answer. I was tired of running.
My crew and the strange allied witch all gazed at me expectantly as I deliberately poured myself a drink and tossed it back. This was a dark, sweet rum, distilled far to the south from a sweet sugar cane and spiced with strong notes of cinnamon and clove. I let them wait as I poured myself another cup, then shoved the cask across the table and motioned to it.
“Grab a cup and drink,” I told them.
When everyone had, I sat back and addressed them. “I’ve been thinking,” I began, setting aside my affected sea-speak for the moment, “that we happen to be going about this all wrong.”
Kargad grinned widely. He knew what was coming. The others, even Bord, looked at each other in puzzlement but said nothing.
“We’ve been running,” I continued and tapped the map on the table, the elven cartography of the Aigon Straits and the land and sea beyond. “We should fight.”
“Be ye sure, Cap’n?” Shrike asked in disbelief. “Even with The Witch’s Promise, we are outnumbered an’ outgunned.”
“Yes, I am,” I asserted. “Perhaps we are outnumbered and outgunned, but we aren’t out-thought or outmaneuvered. With the right strategy, we may yet win the day, and I’d damn sure prefer to fight than to keep running like sniveling dogs. Commodore Arde will dog us ‘til he runs us to ground or until the elves decide to run him down. He’s got a force under the waves, but then so do we.” My gaze fell pointedly on Ligeia.
She smiled thinly and nodded. “Thou art correct, my Captain. I can call allies that can help us against the merfolk.” Now that she had calmed down, the si
ren was all business. I didn’t like to see her this cold, but it was a necessity if we were going to come through this.
“They have witches, ye know,” Cerridwen spoke up. “Sisters.”
“‘Tis not like we have rules against fighting each other, should we find ourselves on different sides,” Mary scoffed. “Though ye give me an idea, old friend. We can discuss it shortly.”
“So long as you clear anything too strange with me,” I threw in as I caught my witch’s gaze.
She blushed and nodded. “Of course, my Captain.”
“So what be yer plan, Bardak?” Bord demanded. “How do ye propose we deal with that gun-laden problem to our behinds?”
“Ye can think Mister Shrike for putting this thought in my head,” I replied as I slipped back into my brogue. “An’ the elves for leavin’ us this lovely map.” I gestured at the map spread out on the table.
“Me plan is this…” and I told them.
Come morning, Jimmy Mocker and Gol the Clanless confirmed what Ligeia reported. A half-dozen ships, including a large, easily recognizable man-o-war, The Indomitable. All these ships were boldly flying Imperial and Admiralty colors, which definitely meant they were on the warpath.
It was just past dawn, and I was already at the helm, gazing after Bloody Bill’s ship ahead of us. In the distance, the island that formed part of the Aigon Straits was a dark line on the horizon. Kargad had raised a bit more sail and now rode the waves to starboard while Tiny swam along to port, with the siren sitting in her nook in his shell like a fierce queen of the sea.
Dark shapes flashed in the sea around them, a triangular fin occasionally breaking the surface. The siren had summoned aid, as she’d suggested. Like any sailor, I was respectful of sharks, but I preferred not having the great fish around.
I was almost surprised when Mary, Nagra, and Cerridwen emerged onto the deck and came up to the helm. There was something noticeably different between Mary and her old friend. My witch hadn’t joined me in bed last night, though Ligeia had, and I wondered what might be going on.
The Danaan witch was subdued, but Mary was wearing a grin from ear to ear. “Good morning, my Captain,” she said brightly. “The message to Bloody Bill was sent and received. He offers an alliance until such time as his witch is free of her pact and our troubles rest in the fathoms below. Also, with Bord’s advice, we completed the enchantment to The Hullbreaker’s hull.” Not only was she perky, but the woman was waxing poetic. I shot her a scowl, and her expression faltered a bit and became more pensive.
“Good work, lass,” I told her, suddenly smiling, the magical reinforcement of my ship was even better news than Bloody Bill’s missive. She blinked at my sudden shift, then caught on to my joke and laughed softly. “With your permission, Captain, Cerridwen, Nagra, and I will work the winds and see if we can put more of the sea between us and our pursuers.”
There was no question. We wanted this fight to take place where we held the advantage, and that meant we needed to reach the straits before the unnaturally fast Admiralty ships did.
“Do it,” I told the three and gestured towards the mizzenmast. “Yer winds will catch us all?”
“Of course.” Mary nodded and gestured expansively. “Tiny will still be able to outrace us but not by near as much.”
Cerridwen raised her head and nodded. “‘Til this is over Captain Bardak,” she said, “we three have bonded as a coven in your service.”
“Good,” I said simply. “We would be stronger together if ye could convince Bloody Bill to set aside his pride and join with me.”
She barked a laugh and shook her head. “He bows to no man, Captain. You should know that feeling.”
I found myself nodding. I did, indeed, know the feeling. It was better to reign over the hells than serve in the heavens. Something about Bill felt even more familiar with that realization. He and I had both come up from lowly sailors to run our own ships. In fact, Bill was every bit the pirate king he pretended to be, as much as men like us had kings.
Mostly he was just a very successful pirate.
As the three women moved to prepare their ritual space and begin calling the wind that would carry us faster to our destination, I thought about something Mary said after our first meeting. Commodore Arde had a coven of three aboard his ship which included her. Three was one of the magic numbers of witchery. There were more, but the ones I recalled were three and thirteen. Three was the smallest a coven could be, and thirteen was the largest. Why? I had no idea.
Had the Commodore managed to replace Mary in his coven? That would explain the speed of our pursuers, especially since each Admiralty vessel carried at least one witch as well.
I went about getting a signal flashed over to Kargad via mirror, reflecting bursts of light in a code that indicated he should prepare for winds and to raise sail. Out of consideration, I had the same signal directed to The Witch’s Promise. My signalman was surprised indeed when they actually responded to the affirmative.
Shrike could sleep a little longer. Once the winds were called, we’d reach the straits in about a half-day instead of the full day I had anticipated before my witch made her offer. That would keep our head start of about a day and a half or two days sailing, which might even give us time to recover Bill’s treasure before the Commodore arrived.
A certain part of me hoped we’d be caught. I wanted to settle things with Sebastian Arde once and for all and send his black soul screaming down into the clutches of the fiends. He’d be another skull for my collection, and if I were very lucky, I’d be able to add The Indomitable to my fleet. If we didn’t have Admiral Layne’s attention beforehand, then we certainly would after.
“Full sails!” I bellowed out over the deck, the watch officer repeating me to men furthest away. “Prepare for witch-wind!” The crew began to raise the sails to full cloth and lash down anything on the deck that might get blown away.
The witches began to sing behind me, and I glanced back to see them, evenly spaced, dancing barefoot around the base of the mizzenmast. I’d never managed to get a full coven, even a small one like this, aboard ship. Usually, in fact, I’d had to make do with no witch at all.
Even in the short time Mary had been part of the crew, I’d gotten spoiled, but having three witches? Well, I’d have to find that third as soon as we had a chance once our coffers were full again. Perhaps Mary knew a possible recruit.
We’d been running before a fair wind the whole trip thus far, and almost immediately after the three women began to sing, it increased in intensity. The guylines creaked and snapped as the canvas filled. Slowly, but faster than Mary and Nagra working alone, The Hullbreaker accelerated. Sirensong kept pace, and to the fore, The Witch’s Promise did too. Ligeia and Tiny barely seemed to notice, the great Dragon Turtle just swept his clawed flippers a bit faster, surging ahead to keep up with the accelerating ships.
The wind continued to build as the witches sang their wordless song. At this rate, we’d soon be running before a gale that would capsize or break the masts of lesser ships. The Hullbreaker could handle it, and I expected The Witch’s Promise could, too. Sirensong was my one concern, but Kargad was as knowledgeable of winds and the sea as I.
Cold began to prickle my skin as the gale leached the heat from my bones. Ahead, though, the dark masses of land grew as we fairly flew across the waves towards them. Tiny and his mistress had gone below, but I could see the wake left by his great, broad back, and I couldn’t help but grin. We must have made quite the sight, our ships with sails taut and crew hanging on for dear life as we rode the waves at a speed rarely seen in anything that floated or sailed.
The masts creaked and cracked. They could take it but probably not for long. It would be long enough, though. Once we reached the straits, Shrike would take the helm and get us through. My first mate and I had worked out a surprise for the commodore, and messages had flown during the night to set it up.
Bloody Bill, Kargad, and Ligeia would all stand by, hidden
in blind nooks within the straits, or down deep at the bottom in the siren’s case. The Hullbreaker would lay in wait just outside the confines of the cliffs, and we’d ram the first ship to make it out, then board her.
Tiny would attack the rearmost vessel, while Ligeia would harass the merfolk with the sharks and other sea-beasts she’d gathered.
Caught between us and beset from all sides, the Imperial ships would fall quickly. All that remained was to get into position without alerting the enemy. I hoped the merfolk wouldn’t scout too far ahead or would be deterred by the siren’s forces enough to let us keep the element of surprise.
The plan hinged on making the Commodore think that we plunged headlong through the straits, running from him at full speed for Milnian waters. He wouldn’t stop, either. With what we’d done to his ship, he’d be practically frothing at the mouth to catch us and wouldn’t let a little thing like foreign territory or possible war deter him.
What I looked forward to the most was joining the fight myself. With Shrike at the helm, I’d be free to lead the boarding parties, and I meant to take full advantage of that. My axe was sharpened and ready, my flintlock pistols were primed. It would be glorious, and our victory would strike a blow against the Admiralty that even Justin Layne, sitting in the bowels of his incomplete warship would feel.
Maybe I’d even add a new skull to my collection. I certainly hoped so.
Mocker was in the crow’s nest and shouted a barely perceptible land-ho, then turned to squint into the wind through his spyglass. The ship shuddered, her rise and fall picking up as the witches’ gale lashed the sea as well as filled our sails.
To starboard, Sirensong cut sleekly through the waves. She had a sharper prow and narrower beam than The Hullbreaker and was drawing ahead slowly with the strong winds and full sails. My own ship was gaining on Bloody Bill’s as well, but barely. The power he had in those cannons came at a cost in maneuverability but not straight-line speed, and I didn’t ever want to be on the receiving end of one of those broadsides.