Orc Pirate: Raiding the Seven Seas

by Simon Archer

  “Aye, Cap’n,” he said with a nod, though his face fell a bit. The old bastard wanted to be part of the hunt, too.

  The thing was, I trusted him completely. He was the only member of my crew, save perhaps Mary or Ligeia, that I’d leave my ship in the hands of. I’d make sure he was rewarded on our return.

  “Ligeia, I’ll need you an’ Tiny. Also, Mary, Shrike, an’ I’ll take Adra, too. We’ll see if she’s got any secrets from the idle lips o’ Bloody Bill.” I looked over at Bord. “I want yer apprentice and a good, fast cannon crew. How many guns on that sloop, Kargad?”

  “Eighteen, by my count, Bardak,” he replied. “Powder, shot, an’ anythin’ else ye might need. All top Imperial issue.”

  “Good,” I said and glanced at the cannonmaster.

  “Ye don’t ask for much, do ye?” he asked with a sigh… but then a grin split his bearded face. “Just bring ‘em all back. Not havin’ the full crew will slow down the repairs, but it can’t be helped I guess.”

  I grinned at the dwarf and stood after extricating myself from the siren and the witch. They both rose with me. “Get to it, lads. I’m going to go tap about fifty able-bodied to go with me on this mad scheme.”

  For the next hour, we rushed about in preparation. I gathered sailors to crew the sloop, Bord put together a cannon crew for me, and we said our goodbyes and good lucks.

  Kargad was right. The sloop-of-war he’d captured was damn near just out of the shipyard, with an engraved name reading Wasp. It was a good enough name for me, now, so The Wasp she was. We struck the Imperial colors and set out almost immediately.

  Ligeia and Tiny ranged ahead to scout. Now, with her comb in her possession once more, the siren was at full power, and a firm and true ally and lover.

  The Wasp was a pure sailing vessel and sported no oars, so Mary took a spot at the mainmast, just before the quarterdeck where I stood at the wheel, and went about singing up the wind. With her injured leg, she didn’t dance, but her voice carried clear and wordlessly in the night. Soon, we were riding before a near gale-force blow, the sharp prow of the sloop cutting through the waves.

  At this point, I hadn’t even spared the captain’s cabin much of a look. It had a bed, a desk, and some chairs, and that was as far as my cursory inspection went. I was anxious to get underway, and now that we were, I’d likely want a closer look. It could wait, though. We were several hours behind Bloody Bill and getting deeper into elven territory with each passing bell.

  I was staring intently to the fore, hoping for some sign of our quarry on the dark, distant horizon, when Mister Shrike and a lean she-orc with a clean-shaven head, deep green skin, golden eyes, and a prominent notched ear. I favored her with a nod.

  “Adra Notch-Ear, aye?” I said by way of greeting.

  She gave me a nod. “Yes, Captain.” Then she turned to Shrike and said, “Thank ye, Mister Shrike. I trust all Bill sent was in order?”

  “Aye,” he replied. “Less’n I hoped, but more’n I expected, say.” A grin split his sharp features. “Trick now is to live long enough to enjoy it. Now, Cap’n,” he turned to me and said. “If it won’t trouble ye much, I think I’ll go catch a few winks before I need to relieve ye.”

  “Go ahead,” I told him with a quick salute.

  He returned it in the orcish way and was gone a moment later to leave Adra and me alone at the helm. I had my right hand on the ship’s wheel, and the thumb of my left was hooked into my broad belt to take the stress off my wounded bicep as I regarded her.

  “So,” I began, “have ye anythin’ to say for yerself?”

  She cackled softly and looked up at me. There was an odd cast to her caused by the missing tusks, but she was a good-looking orc, muscular, lean, but with proper curves beneath her cloak, blouse, and pantaloons. Unlike the witches I’d met, she wore boots that were loose and seemed ill-suited to her. A pair of tusks, probably her own, dangled from a leather thong around her neck.

  “I have much to say, splitter of skulls, but have ye time to listen?” Her head cocked like a bird’s as she regarded me with those piercing eyes.

  Shamans of any tradition were always more than a little strange. Being able to see and speak with unseen things lent a strong edge of weirdness to them.

  “We have ‘til we catch Bloody Bill, lass, so talk away,” I told her and turned my gaze out to scan the sea ahead. Had Bill and the elves gotten so far ahead in the few hours we’d had to prepare?

  “Don’t ye worry,” Adra said. “Ye’ll catch them. The wind and water tell me so.”

  I grunted and waited as the shamaness stared out at the water, then peered up at the stars in the clear sky above.

  “What is it ye want, Skullsplitter?” Adra asked suddenly.

  That thought froze me for a moment. What did I want? As an orc, I loved to fight, but I had become a more complex creature than that. Some might even say I’d turned civilized, and they might not even be wrong. I was happy at sea, and I enjoyed the company of my witch and my siren, that rather implied that love could be a motivation for me.

  Additionally, I wanted to protect the free towns and my own kind. Hells, my impulse to protect was fairly pervasive, hence my interference in the attack on Jetsam. I’d have joined that fight even if old Sturmgar hadn’t offered me gold and supplies.

  Then, there was revenge. I’d given my life to the Empire, and they’d tried to have me killed. That had been the catalyst for all of this and for my decision to turn pirate.

  When a shaman asks a question, though, there is generally a reason, and the answer is never the easy one.

  “Freedom,” I replied. “To exist, to roam, to fight, and to love.”

  35

  “Good, good,” the shamaness cackled as she reached over to put a hand on my arm.

  I almost flinched from the burning heat of her touch, but I quelled that instinct. One never showed fear when faced by one of the spirit-touched. That was a weakness, and they could play with that.

  “What’s yer story?” I asked, then turned my attention back to the fore. “And why did Bill send ye along with Shrike’s shares?”

  She chuckled and shook her head. “An answer for an answer, Skullsplitter,” she said with a grin, the absence of tusks leaving two noticeable gaps in the teeth of her lower jaw. “Which answer would ye prefer?”

  “The second,” I answered after a moment’s consideration.

  “Ah,” she exclaimed as she clapped her hands together. “The Captain is wise as well as strong. Listen close, orc pirate, for ye will not like this answer.”

  I frowned and wondered how my choice was wise if I wouldn’t like the answer, but I kept that thought to myself as she continued.

  “Adra, she was sent… to be a spy…” The she-orc grinned happily. “The bloody man, he has my fetch and thinks it gives him power over me. That is what his witch told him when she trapped my Baz.”

  Her words came as another shock to me. “Why in the hells would ye admit openly that ye were put aboard to spy for Bloody Bill?” I demanded.

  This made no sense at all unless… unless neither Bill nor Cerridwen knew a thing about shamans.

  “The spirits forbid me lies,” Adra said craftily, a smug look on her face. “All I needed to do was make sure ye asked the right question.”

  I burst out laughing. This woman was a cagey one, even when stacked up with Bloody Bill. She’d managed to outmaneuver the pirate king and found herself one of the few orcs at sea that might be willing to help her.

  “What can I do to help ye?” I asked with a grin.

  “A good question,” she said as her voice dropped low. She could still be heard over the howl of Mary’s wind, though, as she continued. “Free my fetch, Skullsplitter. Trade it for Bill Markland’s life when ye have him. If ye have him.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that, but I nodded. “Join my crew, and I will.”

  “Ha! Yes, Bardak Skullsplitter! Give me back my Baz, and I will call the spirits for ye!”


  Adra capered in a circle, then collapsed against me, laughing all the while. I caught her with a wince, the heat of her body noticeable even through her clothes. Several of the crew gave us curious looks before she pulled away, adjusted herself, and coughed nervously, but a sly smile still touched her lips.

  “What shall I tell Bill Markland, Skullsplitter? He needs to know something.”

  “Tell him the truth,” I replied. “He’ll know we are coming anyway, with Cerridwen back.”

  “Will he now?” she asked, then curtseyed. “I will consider that, Captain. Thank you for this… enlightening… chat.” Then she was gone, dancing off to wherever Shrike had bunked her… or so I hoped. Though the sound of her laugh lingered for a long moment behind her.

  I heaved a sigh and tilted my head back to gaze at the heavens. Ever since I made my choice to become a pirate, my life had definitely taken a turn for the strange. A chuckle shook my shoulders and sent a spike of pain through my injured arm. This strangeness? I found that I rather enjoyed it.

  Off to port, maybe a mile or two, was the coast of Milnest. We were paralleling it, following Bill’s expected course to the sheltered cove that Shrike had mentioned. It was a little bit to one side of an extensive river delta that had once been the site of some civilization or ill-fated colony.

  Most of this coast was unpopulated. Except for a few areas, the elves much preferred to make their homes deep inland. Only a few had a liking for the sea and the waves. Of course, a few was enough to crew several hundred fast, maneuverable ships. We could match and overwhelm them at sea, but on land, they were nigh unbeatable.

  They used hit-and-run tactics mostly and took advantage of the terrain and their mobility to terrifying effect. I’d heard tales from men who’d been part of the expeditionary force originally sent by Emperor Blackburn to force a reckoning with the elves.

  That attempt failed miserably. A few survivors made it back to their ships, which were subsequently chased back to Imperial territory and a rendezvous with the full might of the Admiralty. At some invisible border, the elven ships had turned back and vanished, sailing at speeds none of the Erdrath vessels could match.

  The survivors reported an enemy that vanished amongst the trees, only to reappear elsewhere, all the while making uncannily accurate shots with arrows that punched through armor as if it didn’t exist.

  After studying my map further, I concluded that Bloody Bill hid this last trove of his in a place few would dare look. The ruins in the delta were easily within a day of the cove. That had to be where he ran.

  The night wore on. The wind spurred on by Mary’s voice kept us moving as fast as the ship could sail. I made a small adjustment to our course as my inner sense told me we were getting close to where Shrike indicated they’d anchored to wait for the captain.

  Suddenly, off to port, the sea erupted as Tiny burst up from below, let out a bellow, and raised his head with a rapid jerk. A flash of silver leaped up at the apex of the Dragon Turtle’s motion and arced through the air over The Hullbreaker’s railing before the monster sank back beneath the waves. A moment later, Ligeia, her skin sparkling with water, landed in a crouch on the deck below me.

  Several of the men cried out in surprise as the siren stood and stalked smugly to where I stood on the quarterdeck by the ship’s wheel. I returned her smile with one of my own.

  “What news?” I asked.

  “We are only an hour behind The Witch’s Promise,” she replied. “The elves are… dealt with, at least for a day or so, and once they recover, they’ll need to make repairs to their rudder.”

  “What did ye do?” I wondered. Ligeia had her comb back, and I really had no idea what she was truly capable of.

  “I sang to them of love and lust,” she replied with a musical lilt. “A song that boosts the ardor and frees the mind.” A faint blush tinged her skin beneath the sheen of water and sparkling scales as her gills flexed. “They’ll be quite distracted ‘til sometime on the morrow. Oh, and Tiny ate their rudder.”

  I laughed at my siren’s boldness and quick thinking. So, the elves aboard the ship would be out of commission for at least a day, fucking until they were exhausted, and since the dragon turtle had eaten their steering mechanism, they’d likely just give up the chase.

  That was my hope, anyway.

  “Has Bill made it to the cove yet?” I asked next.

  “He has,” she reported. “The witch has set wards against me, and I could do no more than watch from the open sea. They dropped the smaller boats to go to shore and left most of the crew behind. Thy intuition did prove correct, my Captain.”

  Bill seemed like a creature of habit. Treacherous, murderous habit, but habit nonetheless. He knew his treasure was threatened, and as close as we’d been, it wasn’t a stretch to believe he’d make a beeline to protect or retrieve it. We didn’t have the crew to capture his ship, but there was something else we could do.

  “Ligeia, how close can ye get to Bill’s ship?” I wanted to know.

  “Perhaps ten Tiny-lengths or so,” she replied after thinking a moment. The use of her Dragon Turtle companion as a unit of measurement almost made me laugh aloud. It was clever, though.

  “Yer song works on anyone what hears it, though, aye?” I continued with a thoughtful frown.

  “They are warded by the magic that Cerridwen wove while she had access to a part of my soul, my Captain. Were this not so, the entire shipful would be sleeping or fornicating while they waited upon thee.”

  It was only her deadly serious tone kept me from laughing again. The thought of every man and woman on The Witch’s Promise rutting without thought or inhibition sent a wave of mirth through me, but I stifled it back.

  “Ye gave Mary and me your kiss. Could the three of us go ashore and track Bill to his stash without alerting his ship?” I mused. “Or would that be too difficult for ye?”

  She nodded firmly. “We could. ‘Twould not even be a difficult swim from the entry of the cove, around, and onto the shore where they cannot see.”

  “An’ Tiny can splash around to keep their attention on The Wasp here while keepin’ out o’ cannon distance,” I added. “We need to talk to Mary, but she can’t leave her wind hex. I’ll send for Mister Shrike, though.”

  With that, I called the watch officer and had him send a runner below to roust my first mate. He showed up smartly within a few minutes, trailing after the runner who saluted me and hurried back to his regular duties.

  “What do ye need, Cap’n?” Shrike asked as he glanced from the siren to me.

  I summarized what she’d told me, then followed it with, “Ye’ll take command o’ The Wasp until my return, an’ I’m half of a mind to pass her on to ye, once I’m back on The Hullbreaker.”

  He blinked in disbelief. “Cap’n,” the man protested, “ye must have someone that’s been with ye longer that deserves a ship.”

  This kind of modesty was a rather endearing trait in the man, but it was misplaced. He’d deserved his own command for a while now, and while I’d hate the loss of another skilled second-in-command, my act would go a long way towards ensuring his continued loyalty.

  “Ye’ve got the most experience with command in my crew, aside from Kargad,” I told him. “Not sure who I’ll find for a bloody mate, but I’ll figure out somethin’.” A grin crept over my features. “All ye have to do is taunt an’ tease Bloody Bill’s crew while Ligeia, Mary, an’ I creep ashore an’ trail the bastard. I know ye want yer pound o’ flesh, but will ye do this for me?”

  Shrike didn’t hesitate. He nodded vigorously and said, “I won’t disappoint ye, Cap’n. Thank ye.”

  “Good. Helm’s yers, sir,” I half-teased with a wink, saluted, and walked off as soon as his hand was on the wheel. Ligeia padded after me.

  “You have many good crewmen,” she observed.

  “Good crew,” I said, “but not the best officers. I seem to keep promoting them.”

  “Perhaps some just need a chance,” she
said, then shrugged. “Or perhaps I am wrong. I know little of these things.”

  The siren might not have known about ship’s ranks and promotions, but she certainly understood people. Unfortunately, it still left me no closer to deciding who to promote to first mate once we returned to The Hullbreaker. I’d decide upon it later.

  Mary kept singing as we walked up, though she did turn questioning eyes my way.

  “We’re close,” I told her, “an’ we’ve got somethin’ of a plan.”

  The witch nodded and cocked her head as her voice grew quieter.

  “With Ligeia’s kiss, we can swim to shore and creep after Bill undetected. We’ve got a fairly good idea where he might be going, too. He’ll expect us because of Cerridwen, but I think the three of us will be able to handle anything that he can throw at us. Ye in?” I met her gaze and smiled broadly. I was firmly confident in this plan, rightly so or not.

  Mary must have agreed, too. Her eyes brightened, and she nodded up at me. I looked over to see Ligeia smile. Soon, we’d have the pirate king’s treasure, and I had another promise to keep. Adra needed her fetch back if she was truly free to join us, and that would add even more mystical might to my little fleet. Three ships, two witches, a siren, and a shaman.

  The only way to go was up.

  I pulled up a crate and perched on it to keep my witch company while she sang. Her voice was much different from the chants my people performed for magic and warfare, and yet, some things were the same.

  Mary’s windwork required her to mimic various sounds of the wind, combining them musically into a wordless song that would attract the attention of elementals or wind spirits, whatever they were. There was a power to her voice when she sang, something that stirred my soul and other, less spiritual parts of me.

  Ligeia joined me and perched rather boldly on my knee. She cocked her head and studied Mary for a few minutes, her eyes shut as she listened. Both of us were surprised when she joined the song, her voice weaving in and out of Mary’s intonations with adept skill. Rather than interfering with the hex, the siren’s song bolstered it, and my witch grew energized as the drain of her magic eased.