by J. P. Ashman
It wasn’t long until Spyde’s wish came true and Bosun was back, and bleeding on the deck.
‘Where were you last night? The admiral’s been asking?’ Spyde flinched as Bosun bared his teeth. His bloodied hands and grazed chin added to the intimidating aura he gave off as he stomped up deck, throwing his black hood and cloak off to the side. A hobyah growled as the thinly-woven woollen garments covered its head. Mere heartbeats later and that side of the ship was in uproar, with hobyahs howling and snarling and the cloak in tatters.
‘Wasn’t it past the admiral’s bed time?’ was all Bosun said, as he dropped down the hatch into his makeshift quarters.
Spyde glanced back from his web to Tull, who shrugged and turned slowly in the wind, squinting against the rising sun every time he came around to the East.
‘Don’t involve us, neither.’
Spyde looked to the Ptarmigan twins, unsure which had spoken, and saw them busying themselves with calming the now screeching hobyahs by throwing them pieces of rat and cat.
‘Bosun’s hurt, and somebody best take note other than me,’ Spyde said, for all to hear. He closed his eyes and groaned when the one goblin he didn’t want involved answered, from beneath his awning.
‘Don’t think I don’t hear you, Spyde!’
‘Then come out and fucking deal with it,’ Spyde whispered. ‘Oh, I am aware, Admiral. Hence my loudness. I wished for you to be present for this.’ What in the depths am I saying?
A battered face appeared, followed by a half-naked, trembling body that turned Spyde’s stomach, which was saying something considering his goblin constitution.
‘You’re… erm… not dressed, Admiral?’ Spyde held his breath.
Charlzberg stood straight at that, clenched fists on hips. ‘I shall walk naked if I choose. Real naked. This is my flagship, Spyde, you shit of a woman’s bollocks!’
What does that even mean?
‘Now,’ Charlzberg went on, ‘where is he? Where’s the traitor?’ He looked up and down the ship, although Spyde knew full well Charlzberg knew where Bosun was. It was the only place he could be when not on deck.
‘Traitor!?’ The human shout caused even the hobyahs to duck and cower. Spyde climbed higher in his web and the Ptarmigan twins climbed over the side of the ship and clung to the smallest of handholds, but it was better than being present for what was to come.
‘Oh shit.’ Tull wriggled, trying to turn himself away from the deck and towards the second ship of the fleet: the cannon bearer.
‘How dare you,’ Charlzberg said, facing the wrong way. ‘Stand before me when I’m disciplining you for desertion, Bosun.’
‘I’ve fucking had it with your shit, goblin.’ Bosun climbed from the hatch, top off, unlike Charlzberg’s half of nakedness, revealing blackening bruises to his ribs and multiple abrasive patches very recently clotted.
Charlzberg stood still. His only movement was to fold his arms. ‘I shan’t punish a man I can’t see, Bosun. You must present yourself to me, not the other way… Ooh!’
Charlzberg raced to the plank before finishing his sentence, his tackle jiggling and his feet slapping the wooden deck. The hobyahs rolled with laughter at the sight. The goblins hid. Bosun followed the admiral, knuckles white.
A troop of men carted two crates precariously up the ramp onto the war galley, where Charlzberg was jumping with joy, his wounds and recent beating by children forgotten.
‘My cannons, Bosun. Look!’
‘Cannons?’ Bosun’s anger dissipated as he took in the crates, stamped with the bell foundry’s coat-of-arms. He looked up the web above and caught Spyde’s wide eyes.
‘Did I not say?’ Spyde offered a weak smile and thanked whichever god would listen when Bosun looked back to the crates.
‘They look… small.’
Charlzberg scowled. ‘Deck guns, Bosun. Squall’s tits but do you know nothing?’ His eyes never left the crates, lucky for him.
You’ve come close to being murdered by Bosun more times in the last few moments than any other time since we hired him. Spyde sighed. Part of me thinks that might not be a bad thing, should it happen. He slapped himself hard for the thought, drawing another look from Bosun. Spyde offered another smile and climbed higher.
As Charlzberg signed off on the delivery with a black cross where a name was required, Bosun started to rip apart the first crate. Once opened, he stopped grinding his teeth and bared them instead.
‘You look hurt,’ Charlzberg said, finally looking at Bosun.
‘It’s nothing.’ Bosun returned Charlzberg’s look. ‘Tell me where you want them and I’ll have them fixed on in no time, Admiral.’
Oh, shit a brick, Spyde thought, descending his web. What in Brisance is that man up to?
Chapter 25 – Crude compliment
‘Someone’s shat in the Adjunct’s breakfast.’ Spyde held the old telescope in one hand and clung to his net with the other. He pointed the device across the harbour, where guardsmen ran like cats from a bosun.
‘What’s the craic?’ The Ptarmigan twins looked up from the base of the mast, but Spyde had no idea which had spoken, as usual.
Spyde kept his eye to the lens. ‘The Adjunct’s Guard. Someone’s peppering them with arrows from a ship!’
The twins looked to one another and back to Spyde. ‘They got a death wish?’
‘No… They’ve got Sessio,’ Spyde shouted to those below. Several of the Hobyahs looked up hungrily, sending a shudder through Spyde’s scrawny limbs. He put eye back to lens and saw Sessio’s white sails pulling her away from the dock and out into the Scales-dominated bay. ‘She’s away.’
‘Sessio?’
Spyde froze. It was Bosun who’d shouted up and Spyde didn’t miss the tension in the man’s voice. ‘Aye, Sessio,’ Spyde confirmed whilst watching the remarkable vessel glide through the bay.
‘Admiral!’
Lowering the telescope, Spyde looked down to where Bosun was stomping up deck. Upon reaching Charlzberg’s awning, and without an answer from the goblin inside, Bosun dropped to all fours and much to Spyde’s surprise, shoved his head through the flap. The resulting screech scattered the Ptarmigan twins and all other goblins on deck. Cooker popped up for a brief moment, but ducked back into his hole as Bosun crawled backwards, a wriggling and writhing Charlzberg in tow. Once the naked goblin was free of his den, Bosun stood, faced away and shielded his eyes from the sun.
‘What’s the meaning of this?’ Charlzberg surged to his feet and balled his fists by his sides, revealing all, much to Spyde’s disgust.
‘Perhaps you should cover your jewels, Admiral,’ Spyde dared. The resulting glare sent him further up his web in mock fear, eyes rolling as he climbed.
‘Bosun?’ Charlzberg shook with rage, a mewling whine starting to build.
‘Sorry, Admiral?’ Bosun turned, brow creased. ‘Why are you shouting at—?’
‘You dragged me out of my quarters!’
Bosun stepped back and thudded his right hand to his chest. ‘Me? I’m aghast at the accusation. I was merely stood here watching Sessio leave the bay in haste.’
Charlzberg’s whine ended and he frowned, eyes narrow.
‘You know, Admiral, your renowned captain-friend’s ship?’
Oh, you sly dog, Spyde thought, climbing back down his web.
Charlzberg spat. He brought his hands up defensively and hopped back when the gobbet of phlegm landed on Bosun’s boot. The man clenched his teeth but said nothing.
‘He’s not my friend,’ Charlzberg said through broken teeth after composing himself, fists once again by his sides.
‘Oh… really?’ Bosun’s overacted shock and confusion made Spyde laugh, albeit silently.
‘Yes, really!’
‘Well, that’s ridiculous, Admiral. He should kill to be a friend of yours. Nay, he should kill to be under your command, as any captain should.’
Charlzberg calmed at that and straightened. ‘Well, quite!’ He clasped his hands behind
his back, pot belly and tackle thrust forward. ‘Where does the mouse Mannino sail?’
Mouse? Spyde closed one eye and tried to think what Charlzberg meant. Rat? Aye, rat, I’m sure…ish that’s what he meant.
‘I don’t know, Admiral.’ Bosun shrugged. ‘But you can bet he’s on to something big, and lucrative.’
‘Whatative?’
‘Something that’ll make him a boat load of gold. Literally.’
Charlzberg’s beady eyes widened. ‘Follow him!’ he shouted, turning and scanning the deck for the Ptarmigan twins and the rest of his crew. ‘Follow Mannino and Sessio you puss-filled ginger kittens!’
The deck was abuzz with goblins running back and forth. Ropes were cast off and the plank was pulled on board. Tull shouted to the rest of the fleet – the boat behind – that they were departing and Bosun proceeded to shout ‘pull’ after the port-side hobyahs pushed off from the quayside with their thick oars.
Charlzberg turned around, eyes moving from goblin to goblin. ‘Now who The Three—’
Not here, you fool! Spyde thought, cringing and looking to the dark towers above the hillside city.
‘—dragged me from my quarters?’
Bosun broke his steady shouts of ‘pull’ long enough to point out the deck guns he’d fixed to the gunwale to either side of the ship’s prow. Eyes wide once more, a naked, bruise-covered Charlzberg charged up deck to inspect them, qualms forgotten.
‘And ensure you check out the prow, Admiral,’ Spyde added, grinning at the benefits he would receive for seeing Charlzberg’s wish of a prow decoration through to conclusion. His only worry was whether he’d been right in gagging the kidnapped woman or not. It wasn’t easy keeping up with Charlzberg’s whims.
***
‘Is that them?’ Severun asked, glancing down the street their alley led off.
‘To The Three with the lot of us if ye keep on looking at ’em, wizard.’ Longoss pulled Severun to the middle of the group. ‘We need ’em to be unawares.’ He almost missed Severun’s eyes darkening like the belly of a storm; it was only for a heartbeat and the alley lay in a patchwork of shadows despite the midday sun.
‘We can’t be sure if it’s them or not, yet,’ Coppin offered, holding placating hands up between the two men.
‘We’re not striking at folk unknown,’ Egan said, keeping an eye on the other end of the narrow alley, hand-held crossbow at the ready. ‘It’s hard enough Longoss doesn’t know where his old guild is, that we have to do this in the first place, but we’re not attacking without reason.’
Rich coming from a witchunter, Longoss thought, although his anger came from turning down Poi Son’s invitations to go to the guild itself in the past. How easy it would have been to find Poi Son now, if he knew where he was based. The bastard didn’t even travel in his usual coach any longer. Turning it over in the street and torching it during a fit of rage had seen to that. Longoss took a deep breath to calm himself. Nowt I can do about that now. Look forward, not back, that’s what Coppin tells me.
‘We won’t strike at just anyone,’ Coppin confirmed, lowering her hands before moving one up and through her recently blackened hair. ‘But since we can’t find Poi Son, we’ve to draw him to us. Hindering his assassins hasn’t worked how we’d have liked, he just sends more to kill the marks, and he’s keeping his best back since there’s not as many as before’
Gold flashed. ‘Thanks to us.’
‘And the plague,’ Coppin went on, ‘but ultimately we tried and failed at hindering him completely. We told you both what we knew about the mark on King Barrison, though. That has to count for something?’
Severun and Egan both nodded, safe in the knowledge their message got through to Ward Strickland. As had Severun’s request, whatever that had been.
‘We held up our side of the bargain there,’ Coppin said. ‘Now we need Poi Son to come for us again, like he did before.’
‘His men, you mean,’ Severun said.
Too bloody right. Longoss nodded. ‘Aye, his men, and women. And lads and lasses and big fat collared rats and all manner of bastard cunts—’
The slap Longoss received across his face was clearly audible to Egan, who turned to see what happened.
‘I won’t be hearing that word, Longoss.’ Coppin’s outstretched finger caused Longoss to cross eyes. ‘Ye know I can’t stand it.’
Cunt cunt cunt. ‘Sorry lass, ye’re right. I won’t say it no more.’ Cunt.
‘Ye better not.’ She lowered her hand and unbuttoned the top of her linen shirt. ‘Now, it’s time for me to go to work.’
Gold teeth ground as Longoss nodded his head and watched Coppin walk out onto the street. It wasn’t long until the wolf whistles started.
‘Outstanding,’ Egan said from the back.
‘Pardon?’ Severun said, without turning.
‘We have company,’ Egan explained.
Both Longoss and Severun turned and looked past Egan to the three men walking their way, spiked gauntlets glinting in the sporadic light of the alleyway, tattooed faces also visible.
‘Who are they?’ Severun asked, eyeing the men’s wicked grins.
Longoss rolled his head and shoulders. ‘They’re the cunts.’
Coppin smiled at the crude compliment, if it could be called that, and traced a finger down the lad’s pigeon chest.
‘Ye think so?’ she said, managing a giggle despite her revulsion.
‘Oh aye, girl…’
Girl? Cheeky little shite.
‘…I’ll show ye how it’s done, see?’ The lad faltered as the sound of fighting came from the alley Coppin had left. A swift flick of his fingers and the group of youths around him made for the alley’s entrance, all manner of knives being drawn.
‘Ye’re not going, are ye?’ she said, purring the words and moving in close. She pressed her thinly covered breasts against the lad and whispered into his ear.
He shoved her off. ‘I’m to go, aye. Stay here and I’ll be back. There’s things afoot ye wouldn’t understand. Now stay.’
Coppin was shocked, shocked he’d so easily brushed her aside. She watched him set off for the alley, the ghost of an assassin’s face hovering in her memory, laughing at her.
‘Fuck off, Leese,’ she said, louder than she’d intended.
‘What?’ The lad stopped and looked back, knife in hand.
Coppin froze.
‘Did ye say ‘Leese’?’ He moved back towards her. Two of his companions turned back when they saw he hadn’t followed. ‘Answer me, lass. Did ye know Leese? Ye said her name, I heard ye.’
‘There’s plenty Leeses in Dockside,’ Coppin said quickly, too quickly. Coppin, ye fool…
The lad stopped, friends now behind him. ‘How did ye know the one I meant? To get so defensive so quick like?’
His eyes widened with realisation.
Coppin ran.
‘Fuck,’ the lad shouted. ‘It’s Longoss’ bitch; the one that killed Leese!’
Coppin heard all three give chase.
Chapter 26 – Stab and stab and stab
Wincing at the near misses Longoss endured, Egan positioned himself to help the man.
An Orismaran’s spiked fist barely missed the side of Longoss’ head, and would’ve caught purchase if Longoss had his ears. The jab caused Longoss to roll his head left, which now sat in the path of the right hook coming at him.
Egan always found it surprising how such a small bolt could propel a grown man backwards. His aim was key, to have the missile strike the sternum of the man about to gore Longoss’ face, taking him back and off balance and crashing him to the filthy floor.
The tattooed ganger whooshed out a breath as he hit the ground. Longoss kicked the man’s head, likely rendering him unconscious rather than killing him, Egan noticed. Filling his cheeks, Longoss blew out the air and looked to Egan. ‘Ye saved me looks,’ he said, as the other two gangers came on, spiked fists jabbing and swinging. Egan baulked at how calm Longoss was.
‘Do something, wizard,’ Longoss said, glancing Severun’s way. The closest ganger hesitated at the word, giving Longoss the opening he needed to lift his knee and throw a kick out perpendicular to his body. His foot connected with the man’s chest, which surprised them both, and launched him back into his companion.
‘Well done, wizard,’ Longoss said, ‘the mere mention of ye does the trick.’
Egan couldn’t help but laugh.
‘I’ve no room to work,’ Severun protested, ‘you’re in the way.’
Egan reloaded his crossbow and aimed it at new voices, behind them. Several lads froze at the end of the alley. A trigger shifted and a mechanism released a tort cable which whipped its load up the alley and into the shoulder of the lead lad. He went down with a grunt and screamed like the child he practically was.
‘More company,’ Egan shouted. He drew his rapier and pointed it towards the approaching youths. ‘They’re yours, Severun.’ He turned back and ran to Longoss’ aid.
‘Oh,’ Severun said, watching the oncoming lads. ‘I see.’
Coppin looked back as she ran, in time to see half a dozen flailing bodies fly out of the alley, spinning as if caught in a dust-filled zephyr. They struck the building opposite and didn’t get up. In the brief moment it took to happen, her eyes refocused on the three closing lads. Damn but they’re fast.
‘Ye gonna wish ye’d left all this alone, bitch,’ the lead lad shouted as he neared Coppin.
‘Ye might think the same, ye little prick,’ she shouted back.
Coppin’s feet skidded as she came to an abrupt stop. Looking back, she smiled as her pursuers frowned in shock and confusion.
She straightened and drew her own knife. The lads slowed to a stop before her.
‘Sure ye wanna do this, lass? There’s no Longoss with ye now.’
The two behind smirked at that.
‘Nor do ye have him to stop me killin’ you.’ Coppin winked at the leader. She didn’t miss the quick lick of his top lip, the shift in the way he held his knife.