by Nefarious
As for the Seekers, they were in an abandoned storage room with Skitters, alike to the one Orion had first woken up in but with a tunnel. They were told to follow Skitters as he sneaked onto the ship and dumped the flares overboard, then to protect him afterwards. As if to lure them to go down the decks and murder, Ginger had said any treasure they took was theirs to keep
Night had arrived sometime before, and the trio now waited for the ship to arrive. Orion had a bad feeling about the ambush, after all, Ginger had trusted them too easily, he had given them too important of a job, and now Orion had to kill people getting on with their lives.
He knew whatever ploys both sides had planned would come into play once the ship arrived, and as if by magic, a loud horn blared out from one of the houses far away. The ship was here…
21. The Raid
* * *
“Alright, with me,” Skitters said. He hauled open the hatch and jumped into the tunnel, followed by Kora and Orion.
The wavy-haired thief pulled out a candle and lit it, thrusting light against the darkness. “We’re gonna have to be quick,”
The tunnel was as wide as a barrel but lower than head-height, so they had to crouch. Orion wondered who had built the passage in the first place, after all, it was clearly used for illicit activities but the fact there were countless easier ways than through a stuffy tunnel stumped him.
“Hey, Skitters. What’s the ship carrying?” Kora asked. She had left her cloak at the Sticky Fingers’s den after they’d been told they’d be swimming. So, she was now wearing her green jacket and leather pants, which had earned her quite a few nods and ogles from Ginger’s thugs.
“Heh heh, summin good for sure, considering that ship’s coming from the south,” He paused. “But if I was to say, girly, it’d be some items, mostly Gajoi nuts since that’s the craze now, or it’d be slaves. Maybe weapons cuz Visgamar is heating up,”
Orion’s thoughts turned to slaves. They were legal and pretty much everywhere. Depending on where you were, there were different rules regarding them, such as cities like Visgamar frowned upon having them in public, while others considered them a show of wealth and flaunted them with gold chains and the such.
Personally, the House of Zakari had kept no slaves, only servants. So, slavery rubbed Orion the wrong way since he believed while men could be lower than others, none should be low enough to be devoid of self-control, save the dead. As for Kora, he knew she was fine with them considering the House of Cruorem kept thralls.
“And why’re you attacking the ship again?” she asked.
“Me? I get paid for this, girly. And if I find something precious, I could get a few golds for it and buy a home out of the slums, maybe near the market. There’s always tons of rich twits strutting their purses there and if I buy some nice clothes, them Guards won’t even touch me,” He started laughing deep from his heart. “Nanlong and his boys? I dunno, probably use it on whores and booze. As for Ginger and his Sticky Fingers,”
He stopped talking as they reached the end of the tunnel. He pushed forwards and moonlight entered the darkness, revealing the crate that blocked the exit and a stone platform past it.
“Y’know, they shouldn’t be called the Sticky Fingers- not even half the skill I have. Anyway, I heard this job is from Fatso, y’know the Underking, since the Saltrocks left him for Madam Richy, or whatever that whore’s name is. If Ginger does this and gets out safe, I reckon he’ll be higher in Fatso’s books, if y’know what I mean,”
“Wait, who’s the last Underking then?” Orion asked.
“Grima. No one’s got any clue what the guy looks like, but everyone knows he runs the biggest information system in Visgamar. Don’t mess with him either: the saying is he’ll know about you coming before you even decide to,”
Skitters stood on the platform and stretched, staring into the midnight-blue waves. The ship flickered in the distance. “Not that you’ll listen to me about danger, ain’t it? You wanna meet Rats, don’t you? Mad,” He scoffed and buttoned up his pockets. “Alright, then. Let’s go,”
Skitters leapt into the water, the Seekers diving in after. The water was cold, a soothing cold for Orion and a freezing bite for the others, and the waves were choppy up above. The Seekers followed the thief as he circled the ship, making special care where they went up for breath.
The ship was a large wooden beast 30 metres long and 10 metres tall. Its keel and hull had grown dark green with plant growth, and its figurehead showed a woman with her tits out. Classy.
Once they were in position, the trio quietly trailed the ship as it sailed to the docks and anchored. Skitters occasionally sneaked closer and stabbed metal holds into the hull before diving away. They continued waiting, waiting until the first sailors stood on solid ground, waiting till the first shouts rang the night. Now. Skitters climbed the ascending holds and leapt onto the ship, his figure shivering. Kora followed with similar ease, her not-so-human body dealing with the chill better. Orion was the last up and had to claw himself up to the deck due to a few holds come loose.
Once up there, he saw Skitters crouching with his chest heaving, cold water dripping onto the stained boards. They had scaled the ship behind the shadow of some stacks of crates roped to the deck and under the cover of night, allowing their entrance to go undetected. However, it obviously wouldn’t be the case for much longer as several sets of feet thundered across the floorboards, lighting up every lamp.
The thief pointed behind him and whispered, “The flares, they’re over there. I’ll run and dump, you guys cover me,” He brandished a dagger, pushed it up his sleeve, and turned.
As if by clockwork, a shout sounded just as Skitters got up and casually began walking. “Shoot the flares, you fucking idiots. And wake up that fat bitch,”
The Seekers creeped to the corner of their cover and waited. With the lamps tearing away the night’s veil, the thief was sure to be identified as an uninvited guest. Yet, he smashed their expectations as he jogged up to the higher platform, seemingly unaffected by the pressure as he moved calmly.
“Rook, why’re you wet? Get away before you fuck both of us,” said a sailor as he tried to the light a cord. The box of flares was by his feet.
Skitters pointed to the cord with his left hand. “You idiot,”
The sailor looked at the cord in confusion, and Skitters’s right hand came down by his neck, bearing the dagger. In shock, the sailor pushed Skitters back and tried to scream, but didn’t get far before he got stabbed once more, and another. The thief picked up the box of flares and flung them over the side.
Unfortunately, his execution hadn’t gone unnoticed. Another sailor screamed in place of his mate, and the ten or so remaining men turned to face Skitters and the corpse beside him. Loud shouts came from the docks as Nanlong’s mercenaries and the Sticky Fingers finally found the hidden Saltrocks.
Orion tugged on Kora and whispered, “Let’s just go. We’ll make this worse,” Their job was already done; there was no need to kill anymore sailors.
She shook her head and pointed at one of the deck’s unlit areas. “There are crossbows there. Besides, these aren’t good people, you idiot. Don’t bother caring for them,” she said as she leapt from their cover, cutting down a sailor before he even considered death.
Orion growled and stood, his fingers gripped around his hilt. It was an unnecessary fight but now that Kora had entered, he simply couldn’t back down.
22. Blood between the Boards
* * *
The captain was no fool; he knew straight-away the two newcomers were difficult opponents, especially the girl. That speed! “Kill him, boys with me,” he said as he pointed at Skitters but turned to the Seekers.
Orion sourly regarded the captain and the eight men who had heeded his shout. From their movement, it was obvious they would be easy kills. Regardless, it would still be needless blood splattered across the deck boards.
He couldn’t see Kora’s face but the reactions from the la
mplit sailors told him she had smiled, putting them on edge. She burst from her spot, her steps flicking droplets as she twisted around the first sailor, toppled him by kicking his shin, ducked under a swing, then stabbed down. The man gurgled to death, blood spluttering out of his mouth. Uncaring, she clashed her bloodstained sword with another, heightening the madness.
The captain and his men had turned their backs to Orion, caught up by the monster in their midst: a mistake. Orion darted across the deck, saw a man spin around, saw him raise the hammer he had hastily picked up. Skewing his sword’s path by the hairs of the hammerhead, Orion slashed into the sailor’s neck, the teary image of a murderer reflected in the man’s eyes.
With no time to consider his actions, Orion leapt out of the way of another blade, rebounded off the mast and struck down with momentum. It cut into his next victim’s shoulder blade, causing the man to drop the… What was that? A steel pole? Nipping his thoughts, the pale Seeker swiftly finished the job.
“ARGHH!”
Orion heard a shrill scream sound through the battle roars. He saw Skitters falling back with a limp arm, his dagger useless against the metal pole and cutlass his adversaries had. Spinning past another attempt at his life, Orion bucked the sailor in the arse like a horse and hared to the higher platform, leaping up to catch the handhold. Noticing Skitters was moments from death, Orion flung his shortsword at the thief’s soon-to-be-killers, causing them to recoil back.
He used this extra second to pull himself up to the platform and roll away from the soon-to-be-corpse who tried to whack his unarmed hands. The metal pole grazed his knuckles but that was manageable, so much so Orion used that very fist to uppercut the soon-to-be-corpse.
Noticing his friend’s failure, the cutlass sailor slashed at Skitters’s calf, forbidding the thief from escape while he ran to his death. Orion glared at the coming enemy, side-stepped as the sailor thrust, stepped back as the sailor swung in an arc, then booted the man’s wrist, causing the blade to thud against the wet wood. While the sailor cringed over his wrist, Orion uppercutted him too, then picked up the dropped cutlass.
Moments later, he walked over to Skitters and threw the bloodstained cutlass away, picking up his sword. He crouched and looked at the thief’s cuts in the lamplight: a long slit through his jacket on his arm and a gash on his calf. Shaking his head, Orion turned and jumped over the railing, landing on the lower deck.
Kora was busy completing her collection, crimson-dyed corpses strewn around. A few seconds later, she faced Orion and his grim expression.
“Hmm?”
“Skitters is injured. Can you…” he stopped amidst his sentence. It sounded dirty considering what they had just done to a dozen innocents.
She shook her head and pointed to the shadowed doorway below the higher platform. “A Mage is coming,”
She didn’t have to say anymore as Orion ran up to Skitters and knocked him out. He didn’t want to kill the thief, but he would have no other choice if the thief witnessed the fight. Kora moved to the edge of the ship and leaned over the side, scanning the fray below.
“At least a few more minutes,” she shouted back.
“A few more minutes for what?” her reply came, the creaking of stairs accompanying the shrill pitch.
Orion gulped as he heard the creaks. While Mages were a lower species, he doubted he could handle anything as lard-filled as the creaks gave image to. Hopefully, the stairs were just rotten.
“Answer me, you filthy plebeian. Not only do I have to use such a dirty ship but now I have to handle you specks of dirt? Ughh,” the Mage growled as she entered the lamplight, followed by another sailor who stopped star-struck at the scene on deck.
The Mage was a woman with a plump belly as if she was 6-months pregnant. Not that the Seekers were dumb enough to believe that, or that the wisps of golden light racing her figure added to that illusion. She had a bob cut and held a carved staff, more for style than for stability. It seemed the stair boards had been rotten. Perfect.
“An impudent mute, it seems. Well, I’ve got ways of making you talk. You, go and block her,” the Mage said as she clanged her staff against the floor, once again for style, and began muttering with focus, fists of fire growing at the skin of her golden barrier. Her eyes simultaneously got lighter.
The surviving sailor gulped and pseudo-charged Kora, raising his sword but stepping back once he was in striking distance.
At this moment, Orion peered from the higher platform at the animal oblivious to his presence. Killing innocents was wrong and wasteful, but at least they knew their place, unlike Mages. They hadn’t learnt their standing yet, so he was more than happy to teach them. His eyes blanched, appearing yellow tinted due to the lamplight, and ice bloomed out of his right hand.
The Mage only realised her mistake as she sensed the cold at the back of her head, rotating to face the pale Seeker. But it was too late as shards of ice barraged against her golden shield, the fireballs collapsing as her focus broke. She gritted her teeth and turned to her barrier, pouring energy into it as it struggled against the icicles. If anyone with an eagle-eye looked past the obscuring golden haze, they’d be able to see the layers of fat on the Mage sink, albeit slowly, showing inexperience and inefficiency. This was what separated the Houses from mages.
Orion hopped from his spot and landed on the Mage, whacking her against the floor. Not that it hurt her though, instead, the floorboards had dented inwards under the barrier. He placed his left hand on the paper-thin barrier and felt its pulse, fuelled by the Mage’s own heartbeat. The cracks started wide but then connected, shattering the golden barrier. Before she could even catch her breath, Orion punched her face.
“…Zakari…,” she croaked, her fear reflected in her eyes.
This time, Orion felt no pity. “Inferior species,” He brandished his sword and chopped. Silence.
Kora pushed aside the latest addition to her collection as she walked over to Orion. “Jax, let’s find a med-kit,”
He stared at her, past her, then followed as they made their way down the stairs.
They ransacked the kitchen, the panty, the sailors’ rooms where they found a med-kit, the Mage’s embellished room where they pocketed 15 gold coins. They were about to leave when a squeal sounded through the hatch at the end of the corridor.
Orion headed to it while Kora shook her head. “Alright, Jax. You save how many ever slaves you need to clear your mind and I’ll patch up Skitters,”
Ignoring her sassy comment, Orion pulled the hatch open and climbed in…
23. Sea of Flames
* * *
Orion looked down the remaining height and jumped, landing with a thump; his entry was masked by a chorus of groans. The stifling stench dug into his nose, the smell of faeces almost palpable. There was only one point of light, it being a thumb-sized glubber’s wax candle in a lantern. Made visible by the dim light was a row of jails which filled the room.
Covering his nose, he stepped to the closest one and peered through the metal grid. Cooped inside were seven, no, eight slaves, their limbs scraggy and skin discoloured. They looked emaciated as if they were standing on death’s door. Beside them were a broken bench and a bucket filled with shit.
Anger and pity equally flared up inside Orion– it was the sailors he had been reluctant to kill who had done this! Gritting his teeth, he searched for the keys, and when he didn’t find them, he used his sword’s hilt to whack open the locks. Once, twice, and it came loose, clattering to the ground.
He opened the gate and looked in, only to see the near-dead people finally move. They scrambled back, or at least the few who could did, while the rest began to moan louder.
“It’s fine, they’re dead. Get out of here,” Orion said. He was lost for words when none of them moved. “Get out,” he roared, finally urging a reaction. The able few stood but waited. Realising how frightened they must be, the Seeker picked up the lantern and moved over to repeat the process.
The nu
mber of bruises, cuts, shit-crusted skin, and haggard eyes he saw soon calloused his mind and transformed his anger. Gone was the flaming tempest ready to kill and here was the cold monster ready to do something much worse to the sailors.
None of the slaves uttered thanks but he didn’t even consider them doing so, after all, the fearful looks they gave him verbalised their thoughts – another sick sailor playing a cruel joke. And how could he blame them when the only people who came down here were their slavers. But despite their well-groomed scepticism, the second he moved from their gate, the slaves stumbled out and pulled themselves up the ladder.
Having broken six locks and freed 40-something slaves, Orion reached the last jail. Inside, he was surprised to see a single man. Breaking the lock, the Seeker stepped in and raised his lantern. The unconscious man was just as shrivelled, if not more, than the others.
Orion had wondered why the Mage had been on this ship, especially considering how she seemed to hate it. And this man answered the question, more specifically, his skin did. It was etched with burns and crude cuts, as well as some pain-inducing runes.
The reason for his torture became clear to Orion. The man’s visible skin was dark brown, almost black, even darker than a Metole’s skin. And opening his eyelids, Orion saw dull-red irises. He wasn’t from the Empire, so where was he from? The only uncivilised people Orion knew of were the tribes to the west of his ruined house, but they had golden hair and sapphire-blue eyes, and the horsemen south of the House of Metole, but their faces were hawk-like and their skin and eyes were caramel-brown.
Finding no leads or hints from his mind, Orion decided to leave it until the man was better. He used Giah to whiten his eyes, then sucked the energy out of the runes, the work of a novice - no wonder the Mage had been an easy foe, she had been a runewright!