The Wrath of a Shipless Pirate (The Godlanders War)

by Aaron Pogue

  “We’re through,” Corin called back, once he felt confident of their bearing. “Safe enough until you can take the tiller again.”

  “How badly is she damaged?”

  Corin shook his head. “I can only guess. Fortune’s grace, I didn’t see any flotsam trailing in our wake, but that’s no proof.”

  “Check her out,” Ezio said. “Hold. Bilges. Lean over the sides if you have to, but watch your step.”

  Corin showed him a smile. “Aye, aye.”

  Ezio narrowed his eyes a moment, and then he hung his head. “Thank you, Gasparo. Gods’ favor. I owe you my life.”

  That earned a more genuine smile, and Corin ducked his head. “Clear skies, Captain. I’ll get you a report.”

  Corin did a visual inspection of the outer hull first. The sides showed no sign of damage, but the worst of the ride had been right along the keel. He leaped up to the quarterdeck and stood a moment watching their wake, but still he saw no signs of flotsam torn from the hull. That was a promising sign.

  He threw back the hatch and groaned at the sound of sloshing water, but he quickly discovered the source—not damage to the hull, but broken water barrels. Corin eased himself down into it, then felt blindly through the wreckage across the hold’s floor until he found the panel that opened on the secret cabin. When he finally found it, it wouldn’t budge. The weight of water above it held the panel fast. Corin tried his dagger against it, stabbing down at the thin wood plank. It threw a violent splash of water and the dagger’s point landed with a hollow thunk. Nothing else came of it. Corin tried again, and again he got a faceful of bilge water as his only reward. Then, on the third try, he felt the wood splinter beneath the blow.

  The water poured through the narrow hole. Corin dragged his dagger back and drove it down again, adding to the flow. That suggested at the least that the lower hold wasn’t flooded yet. Corin tried to slide the panel again, but it needed more time. He punched another hole, hoping to drain the water faster, then he went topside for a bucket to do some bailing.

  Ezio was on his feet by then, if still a little pale. He was leaning on the tiller now, his eyes fixed hard on the distant shoreline. Watching for the rendezvous spot. Corin prayed Fortune it was close; then he went back below.

  It took him half an hour to get through to the secret cabin, and then he saw it by daylight for the first time. It looked even smaller than he’d guessed. The bunk was now soaking in the broth that Corin had emptied through the panel, but the hulls looked secure. Corin knelt there in the upper hold and watched the water level, but it never seemed to rise at all.

  He was just about to go and deliver the report when Ezio spoke right by his ear. “Ephitel’s name, man, what have you found here?”

  Corin looked sidewise at the other man, and then he remembered his disguise. “I can’t guess. Some kind of lower hold? Riding over the rocks busted open this trap door.”

  Ezio nodded in admiration. “Good on you for spotting that. And I’d say you’re right. This is a smuggler’s ship, ain’t it? I suspect that’s where they keep the precious cargo. How bad’s the leak?”

  “Can’t see one at all,” Corin said. “That’s the water from our drinking barrels.”

  Ezio clapped Corin on the back. “Seems like we survived your miserable piloting, then. Gods favor indeed!”

  Corin turned to him. “We’re there?”

  “Close. I’m starting to recognize the shoreline. Give it another hour. If the ship’ll hold together that long, we’re safe.”

  “I’d wager on her,” Corin said.

  Ezio bent over to peer down into the lower hold. After a moment, he whistled softly. “That’s a fancy setup. You sure the water ain’t rising?”

  Corin checked again, but it was lapping right at the lower edge of the bunk’s frame. It hadn’t moved a finger’s width in the time they’d been talking.

  “Positive.”

  “Good. Then let’s get topside and try to bring this thing in to shore.”

  They chased along the shore for perhaps another half hour, Corin squinting just as hard at the rugged coastline as his companion did, but it was Ezio who spotted the narrow passage between two rocky bluffs that gave access to a sheltered cove. It was no easy task maneuvering the ship through the pass, but once inside they found a deep blue lagoon and a sandy beach hidden from the world.

  Another ship already waited in the harbor—this one a single-masted cutter that would have paired well with the mighty Espinola that Dave Taker had left docked in Marzelle. Corin nodded toward it. “Is that Taker’s?”

  Before Ezio could answer, Taker himself appeared on the deck. He considered the newcomers through a battered brass spyglass, watching as they approached. Corin had to fight to suppress a shudder. Even at sixty paces, Corin had no trouble recognizing his old deckhand. Dave Taker had been a brutal infighter and a capable steersman, but the last time Corin had seen the man was when Dave Taker hurled him into the fires of old Jezeeli.

  Corin focused hard on the strange gray mist that still hung at the edges of his vision. The illusion should be strong enough to keep him safe, and Corin didn’t dare do anything to shatter it. This was what he’d come for, after all. Of course he’d have to face Dave Taker. And if he meant to find Ethan Blake, he’d have to find some cooperation from the scurvy dog. That meant playing his part, for now. So Corin steeled himself and waited.

  As soon as the smugglers’ ship came within hailing distance, Dave Taker lowered the glass and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Who goes?”

  Ezio hollered back. “Friends from Ithale. The don sent us.”

  “About blasted time! Tell me you brought guns!”

  Corin frowned. “Flintlocks?”

  “Guns, man!” Dave shouted, furious. “Guns! Cannon! Didn’t Blake get my message? If you’re not here ahead of an armada, you should’ve stayed home. Blake’s a madman, and we’re all gonna die.”

  Ezio waited, tacking closer, then answered in a more normal voice. “You’ve been on your own a while. We don’t bring any guns, but we are…specialists. We’re here to see you finish what you came for.”

  Dave Taker frowned. “What became of Greg and Benson?”

  “The don had his doubts that they could do the task at hand. He had no such doubts about us.”

  “I sure as stormwinds do! You don’t know what we’re up against!”

  Closer now, Corin got a good look at Dave Taker, and he began to understand the man’s agitation. Taker had always been a brawler, but in the few short months since Corin had seen him last, the big man had gained four new scars—one atop his bald head, one along his jaw, and two crisscrossing his bare chest. His left shoulder showed the ugly puckering of a fairly fresh burn too, and his worn breeches showed the black stain of old blood.

  What manner of beast was he hunting here? The Wildlands were rumored to be home to any number of fantastic monsters, but Corin couldn’t guess what might have drawn Ethan Blake’s attention. Unfortunately, he didn’t dare ask the question. After all, it might be information Gasparo should have known.

  That severely limited Corin’s role in any conversation with both of the other two men. His best move, he realized, might be to find a chance to do away with Ezio in secret and then question Taker directly. Or if it came to it, he could remove Ezio right out in the open. He didn’t plan to depend on terribly subtle means to get his information out of Taker.

  One thing stayed his hand: He couldn’t know for sure that Taker had the information he needed. After all, Taker had just referred to Ezio’s “don” as “Blake.” Perhaps the secrets were still in full effect. Corin silently cursed the famed Vestossi paranoia, and settled for restraint. He would not kill anyone at all. Yet.

  Ezio tossed a line across to Taker. As Taker secured the ships and lowered a boarding plank, he grunted back. “Well? What are your instructions, then?”

  Ezio crossed to the deck of Taker’s larger vessel. He looked around, appraising the situation, th
en spread his hands. “We’re here to assist you in whatever way is necessary. The don was very clear, though: You are to complete the task assigned to you and then return with us.”

  A spark of curiosity lit in Taker’s eyes, and he raised his eyebrows. “Return where?”

  Ezio showed his teeth. “You’ll have that answer in due time. The don suggested you might ask, and he encouraged us to preserve every discretion until the deed is done.”

  “He doubts me, does he?”

  Corin chuckled. “You sounded pretty unsure yourself.”

  Taker answered with a snarl. “I’ve seen storms you can’t imagine, friend, and I’ve learned a thing or two. I know when to fight and when to cut and run.”

  “But there’s so little reward in running,” Ezio answered smoothly. “Whereas one last valiant effort now will see you to the satisfaction you’ve been waiting for. The don has bid us bring you home, where he will grant you a new name and drape you in every luxury—if you first accomplish what he’s asked.”

  Taker considered that a moment. “What’s changed?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me. Blake’s been happy enough to let me rot here in the Wildlands for weeks now. Pay’s been worth it, but never any talk of drapes and luxury. Now…now Greg and Benson disappear, and you two blokes show up. Now there’s suddenly some rush. Spill, or I’ll have you overboard. I ain’t afraid to fight two men.”

  “You won’t have to. This, at least, I’m authorized to tell you. In fact, I’m obligated to. The don’s official message to you is as follows: Finish what you’re about and come home. Do not delay, do not deter, and watch the skies. Corin Hugh is still alive.”

  Corin had to stifle a grin at the final line. It was rewarding to hear, even secondhand, that Corin’s return struck such fear into Ethan Blake’s heart.

  It didn’t do the same for Dave Taker. The big man shrugged and spat. “I’ve killed him once. I’ll do it again.”

  “You won’t,” Ezio answered. “At least, not until we’ve completed our task. It’s my sworn duty to see you follow the don’s instructions to the letter.”

  Dave Taker sneered down at him. “You’re going to make me?”

  “As I said before, we are experts in our field. There is a reason he sent us to meet with you.”

  Taker measured Ezio up and down and then gave Corin a cursory glance as well. After a moment, he shrugged. “Sure. I believe it. But I’ve already told you, we’re going to need more than a couple hired killers to bring this one down.”

  “We came all this way,” Corin said, his patience wearing thin. “Perhaps you can at least tell us what has you so scared.”

  “The target,” Dave Taker spat. “The same bloody farmboy that Blake sent me out here to kill.”

  “Farmboy?” Corin repeated, trying to mask his surprise.

  “I ain’t afraid to say it. He’s a nameless farmhand just like Blake said. Sounded like an easy job, but the boy’s some kind of bloody hero.”

  “One man? By himself?”

  Taker frowned and shook his head. “He’d be bad enough by himself, but he’s got a little army!”

  Corin bit his lip. An army changed things, but what would a nameless farmboy be doing with an army? What would anyone be doing with an army in the Wildlands?

  Ezio seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he cocked his head and asked, “How many?”

  “Eh?”

  “How many men in this farmboy’s army? The don didn’t mention them.”

  “You don’t understand. ‘Men’ isn’t the right word for them. They’re beasts. They’re nightmares.”

  Corin pressed forward. “How many?”

  Taker sighed. “Four. Five with the wizard, but—gods be praised—he left a fortnight gone. Even without him—”

  “Four men?” Corin asked. “I can understand you shying away from the task, but this hysteria—”

  “Don’t you sneer at me, you city rat! I’ve faced down admirals and kings. I’ve survived ghosts and the Vestossis’ grays. Just last month I buried a justicar beneath the sea. So if you think I’m overreacting—”

  Corin put out a soothing hand. “No disrespect intended, then. You’ve been on your own for weeks. All I meant to say is: You’re not alone anymore. We’re the best, you understand? We’ll do this thing, and then we’ll all go back home as heroes.”

  “Stormwinds take your heroes, pal. I’d rather be alive.”

  Corin almost cursed. He should have known better than to try that angle with Taker. He’d gotten sloppy, but an answer sprang to mind. “Forget the glory, then. How about revenge?” He gestured at Taker’s new scars. “You want to punish the man who did these things to you?”

  “Not enough to die trying.”

  “No one’s dying here. That’s why Blake sent us, right?”

  “You seem like good boys,” Taker said. “I’ll give you that. Go home. Tell Blake I’m dead. Tell him you couldn’t find me. I don’t care. He doesn’t have enough money to send me into that fire again.”

  Ezio said softly, “He does.”

  Taker looked up, surprised.

  “He does,” Ezio repeated. “And more to the point, I will not lie to my master. If you insist, I will go home and tell him you are dead. But I will not tell a lie.”

  Taker backed up half a step and balled his fists. “You think you can bully me—”

  Corin stepped between them. “I think we can all get exactly what we want from this. Blake sent us to help you because we are the best in all Ithale at what we do. Like Ezio says, Blake can afford to buy the best. Point us at your problem; we solve it for you. If you get your revenge in the process…”

  Dave Taker nodded, thoughtful. “I like you better’n him. I like the way you think. With three of us…if you’re even half as good as you say you are…”

  “We’re better,” Corin said.

  Taker turned back to Ezio. “But I’m not doing anything until you talk. I’m tired of sailing blind.”

  “I’ve already said, the don insisted on the utmost secrecy—”

  “I’m not asking for his family name,” Taker snapped. “I’m asking for the rest of the story behind this farmboy. Should’ve asked that from the start. Why in the names of all the gods does Blake want his man dead?”

  Ezio pursed his lips. After a long moment, he nodded to himself. “This, perhaps, I can tell you. I do not speak for the don, but only from my own conjecture. I’ve heard a thing or two at court.”

  “Spill.”

  “The princess—Sera Vestossi—rumor claims she has taken a lover. Some nameless farmhand born within a stone’s throw of the Dividing Line.”

  “You think that’s him?”

  “I think that if it is true, it is a…reckless indiscretion. A Vestossi princess should not be toying with a commoner from Raentz. Or perhaps the don wishes only to inflict distress upon the princess. They have ever been unfriendly.”

  Taker shook his head. “That’s it? Some family politics?”

  “The fate of nations is decided on such things.”

  Taker heaved a weary sigh. “I’ll give it a try. For revenge, if nothing else. Once more pays for all.” He glanced toward the sky. “Best to wait for nightfall, though. We’ll try to kill him while he sleeps.”

  Corin sucked a sharp breath between his teeth. He had no particular compunctions against killing some Vestossi’s peasant paramour, but he had his doubts about Dave Taker. If they killed the man, Taker might still keep his promise and disappear. Corin wasn’t sure how things would play out with Ezio if that happened. But if they could satisfy Blake’s requirements and keep Taker in their custody, Ezio would take him straight back home to Blake. Corin liked that idea.

  And it suggested a new plan too—a way to keep Taker on the line and drive Ezio back to Blake as quickly as possible. So Corin shook his head and put on his most earnest expression. “Fool move. Killing him’d be a waste.”

  Ezio chimed in
, his voice cutting. “Killing him is our assignment, Gasparo. It’s time for you to still your tongue.”

  “Kill or kidnap,” Corin corrected. “How much better would it be to take him hostage?”

  “I’d rather see him dead,” Taker growled.

  “I don’t doubt you’ll have the chance,” Corin said. “Have you ever known Blake to release a hostage once he’s gotten what he wants? But first, he’ll be able to wring a ransom out of him.”

  “What could a farmboy have for ransom?”

  “Information. Blackmail. Leverage against the princess. Can you imagine how much fun Blake would have with a prisoner like that?”

  Taker nodded, something like hunger in his eyes, and Corin knew that fight was won. Taker had always enjoyed his hostages. But Corin had a new problem. Ezio was watching him with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. When he caught Corin’s gaze, Ezio stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I think I’ve rarely seen you scheme so well, Gasparo.”

  Corin puffed up. “I came a long way to see this done, same as you, but you’re looking ready to let things spoil. Me? I want to see some profit from all this effort.”

  “Gods favor, man, ease your heart. I meant it for a compliment. Might be the first time I’ve heard you argue against brute force.”

  Corin threw a shrug. “Maybe I’ve been paying attention. Maybe I’ve learned a thing or two.”

  Ezio grinned ear to ear. “Maybe you have at that.”

  “And I’m not done,” Corin said, raising his voice for Taker too. “I have a plan.”

  “It had better be a marvel,” Taker said.

  “Brilliant in its simplicity,” Corin said. “You said you’ve tangled with this man before? And you can lead us to him?”

  “By darkness, aye. I wouldn’t risk it by day. One of his scouts has an eagle’s sight.”

  “That only serves our ends,” Corin said. “My plan is to be caught.”

  “You’re a fool. He may be a humble farmhand, but he goes well armed. And every blade he owns has run with blood.”

  “Yet you’ve survived,” Corin said. “You’ve gone against them more than once, and you’ve survived. They must know you’re out here.”