by Rick Johnson
“No one insults me and gets away with it,” the Wolf yelled, grasping for Angelana. He never managed to touch her. S’Might, performing an amazing full-circle of kicks, caught the entire front row of the mob in the jaw with his flashing feet. Several Wolves crumpled to the ground. The rest fell back out of range of S’Might’s flying kicks.
Having cleared a pathway to the house, S’Might motioned for Angelana to lead the way into the house. Entering the house safely, Angelana closed the door and bolted it securely. She gave S’Might an amused look. “So—not as helpless as you appear, eh? I should have let you handle those Club Wolves back there. I sure wished I could kick bullies and thugs heads around backwards like that!”
S’Might grinned. “I don’t start things with beasts. I only finish things if bullies won’t leave me alone. When you jumped in, I was just about to let fly with my feet. Sorry you had to take the lumps.”
“I’ll remember that next time we’re in a jam,” Angelana replied. “You handle ‘things’ better than I do.”
The angry crowd did not disperse immediately, but kept swarming around the house. Despite shouting insults and oaths, however, they did no violence against the house. Most beasts in Norder Bay respected Davison as an honest shopkeeper. Even more importantly, his and Angelana’s son, Ord, was one of the most famous captains ever to sail the seas, making him a Norder Bay favorite. Recently, rumors were about that Captain Ord was going to attempt a voyage beyond the Farthest Reaches. The Farthest Reaches—a ring of islands many weeks sailing away—were at the very edge of the world, so far as any beast in the Estates knew. No sea-beast had ever dreamed of sailing beyond. What benefit could such a dangerous voyage possibly bring?
Yet, the same rumors said that some of the most prominent Barons in the Norder Estates were investing heavily in the voyage. Obviously, they thought to gain some reward. But what? If the world did end beyond the Farthest Reaches, the voyage was doomed. If it was not the edge of the world, what then? It was the “what then,” that put beasts to wondering. Although Angelana’s actions enraged passions, no one dared to speak ill of Captain Ord or his family. With leading citizens of the Norder Estates very interested in seeing Captain Ord succeed in his mysterious voyage, no beast spoke a word against him.
Although there was no attack on the house that Thursday afternoon, in the days that followed, everyone was talking about Angelana taking cause with S’Might. By early in the following week, the swirling gossip was becoming uglier and more widely heard. Angelana was becoming worried. It was said that Angelana would be arrested and sent to Tilk Duraow. The house would be burned, Davison’s shop confiscated, and the family driven away. There were even rumors that, since everyone knew that Rabbits were a clan of lying sneaks and thieves, Captain Ord, himself, would be arrested on charges of harboring a known criminal. Even though Angelana knew that the rumors were mostly rubbish, it was the possibility that one might be true that worried her.
Until now, she had thought that she was the one in greatest danger. Beyond protecting S’Might and taking him into her home, Angelana was also suspect in many beasts’ eyes because of her visits to the Pogwagger camp. Since the Pogwaggers had begun to arrive in the Norder Estates a few years back, there had been nothing but trouble. Fleeing famine in their home area, the Pogwaggers came to the Estates looking for work, which they had no trouble finding. The Norder Wolves happily gave Pogwaggers work to do. The problem was that many Norder Wolves also considered it sport to cheat the Pogwaggers. Angelana hated the injustice of it. As tensions between the Norder Wolves and Pogwaggers grew, the threat of open conflict increased. Angelana knew the mounting troubles likely put her in danger.
But now, with her son long overdue, her worries had shifted to Ord. What could be delaying him? Thankfully, just as her worries were becoming truly frightening, Ord came through the door. Angelana threw her arms around him. “Why were you so late?” she cried. “I’ve been worried sick.”
“Ah, Mother,” Ord said tiredly, “it is late, indeed, very late. It is probably too late to do anything about it except what Klemés argues we should do.”
“Too late to do anything about what?” Angelana exclaimed.
“Slaving—Rummer Boars coming into Norder Bay to pick up slaves.” Ord’s face looked more tired and pained than Angelana had ever seen.
“Slaves! Rummer Boars! Here?” Angelana could hardly believe her ears.
“Yes, without a doubt,” Ord replied. “A troop of Skull Buzzards raided the Pogwagger camp this afternoon. They took the entire camp prisoner—grownups and wee beasts, too. As soon as my ship leaves the pier at the end of the week, a Rummer Boar vessel will dock to take aboard the Pogwaggers. They will be transported to Port Newolf and sold to Wrackshee slavers.”
“I guess that’s one way to stop talk of a rebellion in its tracks!” Angelana exploded. “Isn’t there anything that can be done?”
“Very little, I’m afraid,” Ord replied. “I just came from a meeting with the port authorities and the investors sponsoring my upcoming voyage. All of them intend to let the Pogwaggers be taken on board the Rummer Boar ship. In fact, they seem almost gleeful about it.”
“You mentioned that it was too late to do anything except what Klemés wants to do,” S’Might said. “What does he suggest?”
“Set Dainty’s Shant ablaze and run her into the Rummer Boar vessel anchored in the bay!” Ord said grimly. “He wants us to sacrifice my ship to take out the Rummers’ ship.”
“Burn Dainty’s Shant!” Angelana exclaimed. “What about your voyage beyond the Farthest Reaches? What about the investors who own the ship and are backing the voyage?”
“Klemés argues we have no choice if we are beasts of honor and decency,” Ord answered. “He says that the powerful Barons who are backing this voyage could stop our port from being opened to slaving if they wanted. Since they have chosen to look the other way, Klemés feels they no longer deserve our support. They have sacrificed freedom and decency in the name of profit and we owe no loyalty to that.”
“But that wouldn’t stop the slaving, would it?” Angelana asked.
“No, it probably wouldn’t stop them. They’d clear away the wreckage and go on with their plans to enslave the Pogwaggers.” Ord paused and was silent for a moment. Then he continued, “Yet, I think Klemés is right. If I do not try to do something to stop this madness, I am no better than my investors who also choose to do nothing. I’m a decent beast, and I must do what I can to disrupt this hideous plan.”
“What will you do?” Angelana exclaimed, her pulse racing.
“Tonight, I’ve called a meeting of the Dainty’s Shant crew for 2nd Call. I’ll pay each of them the wages they would get for the voyage from my own funds. It will take all the money we have saved, but that will free the crew from further obligations to me and the ship. To assure that they can’t be held responsible for what I intend to do, I will not tell them my plan. No one will be able to accuse them of crimes. After they leave the ship, Klemés and I will soak it thoroughly with turpentine. Then we’ll put her under sail, set her afire, and run her straight into the Rummer Boar vessel.”
“Oh, Ord,” Angelana exploded, “you’ll all be killed! If the fire doesn’t get you, you’ll be hung as soon as they catch hold of you!”
Ord smiled, “That’s two wrong guesses. The fire will not get us—we’ll be well away in the ship’s longboat before we throw a flash gourd on the deck to set fire to her. And secondly, no one is going to catch hold of us, except you!”
“We’re leaving this town fast, aren’t we?” Angelana replied.
“Yes, Mother, fast—very, very fast,” Ord said. “You and S’Might will meet the rest of us at the Spook’nings at sunrise. After we pick you up in the longboat, we’ll row out to the shipping channel and flag down a passing freighter. We can catch a ride with them to Port Newolf.”
“The Spook’nings!” Angelana said, surprised. “No one goes to the Spook’nings! Why, I’ve never been
there and don’t even really know where they are!”
“That’s why it’s a great place for you to meet us,” Ord explained. “No one goes there, so it’s less risky as a meeting place. I’ve never been there either, but I know of the place. It’s marked on our sea charts as a place to avoid. Many ships have wrecked there—so the charts warn ships away. I’m sending Bost to guide you and S’Might to the Spook’nings.”
Angelana’s face lit up with a smile. Bost was a round, broad-shouldered old Munk, and one of Captain Ord’s most seasoned hands. At sea for more than fifty years, after Klemés, Bost was Ord’s most trusted comrade. His rugged Munk face mirrored his character: blasted by sun and saltwater, a mass of wrinkles clustered around a jovial smile. Knowing the Bost would guide them to the Spook’nings made Angelana very happy.
“Bost is the only beast, beyond me and Klemés, who knows anything about our plans at this point. He’s in it with us—been together too long to break apart now. He’ll lead you down the beach to the place where we’ll meet. Be ready to leave a bit past midnight. Bost will come around and knock at the rear door.”
“But, Ord, the entire plan sounds foolhardy,” Angelana protested. “First of all, don’t you think someone will notice that Dainty’s Shant is leaving port in the middle of the night, days before she is scheduled to depart? Secondly, don’t you think the Rummer Boars will notice a flaming ship coming straight at them and get out of the way? Thirdly—if the first two reasons don’t make your plan sound foolhardy enough—don’t you think that, even if you succeed in hitting the Rummer Boars’ vessel, every Club Wolf, Skull Buzzard, and Battle Stallion in the Estates will be out looking for you?”
“Ah, well,” Ord responded, “that is one place where slaving and Rummer Boars are going to help us.”
“Help us!” Angelana exclaimed. “How can they possibly be a help to us?”
“Well, you are correct that any of them—Skull Buzzards, Club Wolves, or Battle Stallions—could get in our way. But, the Battle Stallion cruisers are out to sea on patrol just now, so they won’t be a problem. The Skull Buzzards are tied down guarding all those Pogwagger prisoners. So, strike the Skull Buzzards out of your thoughts for now, also. On the other hand, the Club Wolves are very much around, all right, but with the Rummer Boars in town, their hands are full. Although this is the first time Rummer Boars have docked in Norder Bay, I’ve encountered them many times on my voyages. When a Rummer Boar ship comes to port, the crew goes into town and spends all the booty they have accumulated. They drink themselves silly and tear the place up, fighting and carousing. It will take every available Club Wolf in the Estates to keep the lid on while the Rummers are going full throttle. Why, there will be a new fight or riot every hour! Eventually, they will all sink into a drunken stupor and lay in the gutters and streets until they sleep it off. But at 2nd Call, they will just be hitting their stride. The Estates will never have seen anything like it before—there will be so much noise and chaos in town, no one will be paying attention to Dainty’s Shant. And even when they notice the ships are on fire, for a while it will only serve to increase the chaos for awhile. Beasts will be running hither and yon, not knowing what has happened exactly. By the time anyone begins to wonder about me and Klemés, we’ll be long gone.”
“But surely the Rummers will post a watch on their ship. What if the watch raises the alarm, and they sail their ship out of your way?” S’Might pointed out.
“I’ll wager that whatever watch they post will, most likely, be drunk as well,” Ord replied. “Every beast knows that there is really not much to worry about in the Norder Bay harbor. And being left behind on the ship while your mates go on shore and tear things up—why, it would just break a poor Rummer-beast’s heart. I imagine that any watch-beast will not wait very long to hit the ship’s grog cask on his own. I believe their watch will be pretty useless to them on this particular night.”
“Trusting a Rummer Boar watch to be drunk while you run a fire-ship at him still seems like stretching hope further than is wise,” Angelana observed.
“I’m not putting all my hopes on that kind of trust,” Ord replied. “Right now, as we’re talking, Klemés is on Dainty’s Shant, in the workshop, making some modifications to an old ship’s anchor. He’s bending the steel to make the anchor look more like a giant fishhook.”
“A fishhook?” S’Might asked.
“We’re going to hook us a Rummer Boar ship!” Ord said, grinning. “Klemés found a piece of heavy steel pipe that will just fit our new fishhook.”
Angelana and S’Might gave Ord blank stares. They had no idea what he was talking about.
“You see,” he continued, “Klemés got this piece of pipe and took it to the blacksmith. He heated it up with his bellows and attached another piece of steel to close one end. When it cools, we’ll empty powder from a couple of flash gourds into the pipe. Klemés will wrap the long end of our fishhook tightly with heavy rope, so that it fits in the pipe securely. The closed end of the pipe will have a fuse running out of a small hole from the powder. Klemés calculates it will take about ten seconds for a lit fuse to ignite the powder. He thinks that if we point the pipe at the Rummer Boar ship, the exploding powder will propel the fishhook with enough power to break through the Rummer ship’s hull. A rope attached to the fishhook will tie the two ships together. They won’t be able to run away, even if they try!”
“This is your idea, Ord?” S’Might asked, very impressed.
“Klemés gets the credit,” Ord chuckled. “He’s one crazy Wood Cow! Sail with him as long as I have, and this sort of thing gets to be normal. Now, I need to get back to Dainty’s Shant and complete our preparations. Don’t worry about us. Just be at the Spook’nings by sunrise. Be sharp, we won’t have much time.”
Day Two
Shortly before 1st Call, Captain Ord was leaning on the gunwhale of Dainty’s Shant. The scene along the wharf of Norder Bay was something entirely different for the tiny Norder Estates port town. Normally home to small fishing boats and a few trading ships such as Ord commanded, the coming of a Rummer Boar slaver to Norder Bay was new. The crew of a Rummer Boar slaver was nearly 300 sea-beasts, equal to nearly a forth of the entire population of Norder Bay. For weeks, most of Norder Bay’s residents had been eagerly anticipating the coming of the Rummers. Merchants and tavern-keepers, used to slim profits from the small local population, were giddy at the thought of hundreds of free-spending Rummer Boars coming ashore. All the leading elements in the Norder Estates were happy that, at last, some grander prospects for expanding commerce were at hand. None of these leading lights seemed to be much concerned that the commerce in question involved selling fellow beasts on the market.
As Ord watched his crew silently slipping aboard the ship in ones and twos, the outlines of Norder Bay’s future were clear. The traditional musty smells of the docks now mingled with the over-powering odor of fiery Poor Beast’s Blight, the cheap but powerful Rummer beverage of choice. PB’s Blight was reputed to “rob a beast of good sense in less than a minute” and Norder Bay had supplied itself well on this night. In preparation for the Rummer Boars coming to town, dozens of barrels of Poor Beast’s Blight had been brought to Norder Bay. Scattered up and down the streets, the barrels were now standing on end, tops knocked off, so that Rummers could simply dip their tankards in and toss their money to the cask minder. It was an efficient way to handle the mobs of Rummers that far exceeded the capacity of the taverns. There were also tables laden with Hot-Salt Lizard and Butter-Roasted Shark, buns and sweet delicacies of every kind, and fine glasses of Swilling Wine. After weeks at sea, and with pockets filled with silver and gold from their slaving, the Rummers were ready for a good bit of frenzied carousing.
Ord smiled. With the town awash with Rummers drinking, cursing, and fighting, the evening’s operation was going exactly according to plan. In almost every street and alley, Club Wolves were struggling to keep the peace, running from one disturbance to another. Rummers, delirious
with PB’s Blight, tumbled through the streets, brawling and slashing wildly with knives and sabers. When Club Wolves tried to restrain the turmoil, some wild-eyed Rummers challenged them to duels. Howling with delight, Rummers, wearing the richest silks and satins, tossed tankards of PB’s Blight on one another. Although it disgusted Ord to watch the Rummers tearing up Norder Bay, the disorder perfectly fit his plan. To make things even more to Ord’s liking, the tavern-keepers and merchants refused to let the Club Wolves shut down the party, even if they could have done so. In a single night, more silver and gold was flowing into the coffers of taverns and shops than anyone could ever remember. Despite the general disorder and violence, business owners wanted the night’s excitement to continue so long as the Rummers had money to squander.
Earlier in the day, when Ord had left Angelana and S’Might, he had returned to Dainty’s Shant to finalize the details of the coming operation with Klemés. After confirming the plan, Klemés had left the ship to locate the crew and call them to the meeting.
Klemés knew that the crew would not be in the taverns or along the waterfront today. Many of Dainty’s crew were Sharkicts who deeply disliked—nay, hated—the Rummer Boars. Rummer ships regularly sacked Sharkict villages and sold Sharkict prisoners into slavery. Even if that were sufficient, Captain Ord also had ordered his crew to say away from the Rummers. Things would be tense and violent enough with the Rummers around, without his crew getting into their own bloody ruckus with them.
Klemés had guessed that most of the crew would be together at Master Nic’s, an inn a ways out of town on the main road to Port Newolf. Given that they could not mix with the Rummers, the best place to be was at Master Nic’s. Although dilapidated and dirty, the inn had the virtues of being removed from the turmoil in town, and serving decent Bilge Cakes and Puckie.
As he had expected, Klemés found the crew overflowing the inn. Beyond filling the benches ranged around the walls, Dainty’s crew sat on chairs, boxes, and barrels scattered throughout the long, narrow public room. In addition to dealing cards and scoffing Cakes and Puckie, many sea-beasts crouched in a circle in front of the huge fireplace, singing raucous songs. Everywhere, Norder Nutter, the favored local ale, flowed a-plenty.