The Wrath of a Shipless Pirate (The Godlanders War)

by Aaron Pogue

  Dave Taker climbed to his feet, grumbling all the while, but he made no further move toward the fallen farmboy. Ezio nodded. “Good! Now go and fetch whatever things you need from the other ship. As soon as we have the prisoner aboard, we should leave this place behind.”

  The prisoner. Corin stared at Auric, fallen half a pace from the bleeding Wildlander. The farmboy was still breathing. They both were. That was some small mercy.

  Corin hadn’t heard the man approaching, but Ezio clapped him lightly on the shoulder. “That was a clever move, sending the ranger to us first. He’d have put an arrow straight through Taker’s heart, but he was not expecting a second man.”

  Corin winced at that. He could have expected it. If he’d believed Corin’s story, he’d have expected Taker to have a companion. But the Wildlander—the Judgment, Auric had called him—had seen through Corin’s lies. He just hadn’t seen quite far enough.

  “He made good bait,” Ezio said. “But what were you attempting at the end? It almost seemed you were trying to warn our target.”

  Corin shrugged, still feeling numb. “Had to sell the lie. Didn’t want him suspicious.”

  Ezio narrowed his eyes. “Risky, but it worked. You and I will have to talk during the voyage home. It will make a pleasant change of pace to have a truly competent assistant.”

  “Partner,” Corin said, just to keep up the part. “I’m nobody’s assistant.”

  “Fair enough. Fair enough. Now, come, let’s stow him in the compartment you discovered.”

  Corin stooped and heaved the unconscious adventurer up onto his shoulders. It was no easy task, but Corin bore the burden. He plodded down the beach, grateful for the potency of the druids’ sleeping potion. He would not have wanted Auric to know the part he’d played in this. With any luck, when Corin came to rescue the farmboy from Ethan Blake, he might even come off as a hero.

  “I must admit,” Ezio said as they climbed into one of the bigger ship’s rowboats, “I had my doubts that you’d succeed, and I certainly did not expect it to be so soon.”

  “You said nightfall,” Corin answered. “I came at nightfall.”

  “That you did, and thanks to Ephitel, we were ready for you. In fact, we have everything worked out. We’ll trap the adventurer in the lower hold, keep him sedated with the don’s new toy, and sail straight home from here. I suspect we have rations enough for all three of us already.”

  “On the river boat?” Corin asked, surprised. “We’re not taking his cutter?”

  Ezio shook his head. “Same reason we brought the river boat here. Without an expert navigator, we’re safer on the coastline with a shallow draft than in a deep-keeled ship out on the open sea.”

  “But the cutter would be faster. We could sail straight—”

  He had to cut himself short, because he still didn’t know just where they were headed.

  Ezio didn’t seem to notice. He was already shaking his head. “Too dangerous. Too dangerous by far. Better safe than dead men, especially now that our task is nearly done.”

  Corin looked across the waves to the other little boat some way ahead of them. Dave Taker was making for the anchored cutter. Ezio had instructed him to fetch his things, hadn’t he? Corin frowned. “And Taker agreed to this? I’m surprised he didn’t insist he was sufficient to the task.”

  Ezio shook his head. “On the contrary. He insisted we take the safer ship.”

  Corin stared after Taker, thinking hard. It seemed most out of place for Taker to agree. He’d never been a man short on bravado, and he’d often claimed himself a master of Spinola’s treacherous waters. He’d clearly brought the cutter through them safely, after all. Why agree to take the slower boat, the unfamiliar one, even if Ezio insisted?

  Corin could see no clear reason, and it ate at him. He would have been so much more comfortable aboard the cutter. He had no doubt that Taker felt the same, but for whatever reason, he was willing to join Corin and Ezio on the low, clumsy river boat. It made no sense.

  He puzzled at it while he hoisted Auric’s limp form up into the smuggler’s boat and then maneuvered him down into the lower hold. He stretched the farmboy out on the bed as comfortably as he could manage, but as he turned to leave, he found Ezio waiting. Watching.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Ezio asked, calm as the eye of a hurricane.

  “He’s valuable goods, just like you said,” Corin answered.

  “He’s not our guest, Gasparo. He’s a prisoner. Chain him up.” He tossed a heavy set of iron manacles down to Corin, then disappeared a moment and came back with a huge iron ball. The ball crashed down with such a force that it dented the hardwood planking of the floor. Corin stared at it.

  “You really think that’s necessary?”

  “Mister Taker insisted on it. You saw how he responded to the man. It does seem a reasonable precaution.”

  Corin sighed. “I’ll see to it.”

  “No mistakes. You can be certain Mister Taker will double-check the locks before he lets us seal the hold. He is most concerned.”

  Corin bit back his curse. He merely nodded, then bent to the task. He clamped the cuffs on Auric’s wrists and ankles, and attached the heavy ball. It could hardly slow him any more than the druids’ poison, after all, and Corin would have no trouble picking the manacle locks once the time came for rescue.

  But even as he thought of the druids’ poison, he saw Auric’s fingers twitch. That should not have happened. Corin raised his eyes to the farmboy’s face. Nothing happened for a moment, and then one eyelid twitched.

  How? Corin had no time to consider it. He heard Dave Taker’s heavy tread on the upper deck, his booming voice berating Ezio, and Corin knew his time was short. He leaned down close to Auric’s ear and whispered, “I am your friend, and your only friend in this place. You must listen to me. Do not move. If they see you are awake, they’ll likely kill you. Bide until you hear from me again. I swear I’ll get you out of this.”

  He saw no reaction from the farmboy, no way to know if his message had been heard or if the little twitches had been nothing at all. It didn’t matter anyway. He had no time to act further. Dave Taker crouched outside the hold, one big hand on either side of the hatch, and glared down at Corin.

  “Have you chained ’im up?”

  “Aye. He’s secure.”

  “I’ll see about that. You come fetch this chest. Ezio says you’re the strong one.”

  Corin threw one last glance at Auric, then headed for the hatch. He paused partway through it, blocking Taker’s way, and met the big man’s eyes. “Leave the knife behind.”

  Taker curled his lip. “What’s your meaning?”

  “There’s a knife on your belt. Leave it here. And don’t you touch him, understand? He’s worth a lot more to us alive than dead, and I’ll have your guts if you cost us that reward.”

  Taker sucked in a big breath to shout Corin down—his swollen pride would have demanded it—but somehow he restrained himself. He deflated, spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture, and then, with great show, he drew the knife out of its sheath, held it a moment for Corin to see, and tossed it casually aside.

  “I’ve seen the error of my ways,” Dave Taker said. “And I need your companion’s assistance if I’m going to see any reward for all my pains. I might hate the dog, but my love for silver overwhelms it. I’m not going to touch his sorry hide.” He pointed to the knife on the floor. “Satisfied?”

  Corin stared into his eyes a moment more, but he saw no deception there. Reluctantly, he climbed aside and let Taker make his own inspection. He checked every link and lock at least two times, but he found nothing to complain of. At last he turned back toward the hatch and seemed surprised to find Corin still watching him.

  “I thought I told you to fetch the chest.”

  “Aye, and you thought I answered to your orders. You were clearly wrong on at least one count.”

  “Gasparo!” Ezio called from his place near the port bow. “Stop bickeri
ng and lend a hand. I’ll feel safer once we’re clear of this place altogether. I don’t much like the sounds I’m hearing from the forest.”

  “Adventurers?” Taker asked, a touch of panic in his voice.

  “No. Creatures. But those are not the cries of the kind of creatures allowed to roam the Godlands.”

  “Monsters,” Taker snarled. “Almost as bad as the adventurers! Grab the chest.”

  Corin was just as anxious as the rest to get under way, so he relented. He found the rowboat tied alongside the ship, wallowing low in the bay’s waters from the great weight of the iron chest it carried. It was a lockbox, wide and deep and secured with three massive, elaborate locks. Corin couldn’t see the need; he doubted even he could have picked one of these locks, so three seemed such a waste.

  “What’s in the chest?” he asked Taker.

  “None of your concern.”

  “It’s a fancy piece of craftsmanship, and not a cheap one. Enough to make a man wonder.”

  “I thought your captain there told you to stop bickering.”

  “He’s not my captain. We’re partners. And if you want me to bring this chest aboard for you—”

  A scream from the forest cut him short. All three men spun to stare in that direction, eyes wide. It was not a human scream. And it was not far off.

  “Storming seas!” Taker growled. “It’s Blake’s bankroll. Understand? He sent me enough coin to do the job, and your don won’t be very happy if I come back without the leftovers.”

  “Get it,” Ezio said. “And let’s weigh anchor.”

  “Not yet,” Dave Taker said. “One more thing.”

  “No,” Ezio said. “I do not want to see what made that noise.”

  “Neither do I,” Dave Taker said, “but there are letters from your don aboard my ship. Confidential correspondence, if you catch my meaning. Should we really leave such things for anyone to find? The farmboy’s companions, perhaps?”

  Ezio compressed his lips to a thin line, and his eyes flashed. “Why didn’t you bring these letters before?”

  “Forgot. You can stand there and chastise me, or you can go and fetch them while we arrange this chest.”

  “You get them. Gasparo and I will handle the chest.”

  “I doubt you’re up to the task. It’s a very heavy chest.”

  Corin frowned at him. “But…you managed to load it on your own.”

  “Dropping’s always a lot easier than lifting. Besides, it was empty when I put it in the boat. I loaded it after.”

  Ezio sighed. “I will be pleased to be done with you. Very well. Where are these letters?”

  “In an oiled leather bag inside the cabin. You can’t miss them.”

  “Gasparo, get this sorted out. Mister Taker, please be ready to set sail as soon as I return.”

  “Happy to,” Dave Taker said. He watched while Ezio climbed into one of the two boats and pushed off toward the cutter. Then he turned back to Gasparo. “Well? Put your back into it!”

  It was indeed a heavy burden. It was all Corin could do to lift just his half of it, and the short lug from the railing to the hatch was like a torture. He had to summon every ounce of strength, and he fought desperately to conceal his struggle. Gasparo, after all, should have been sufficient to the task.

  When they reached the hold, Corin dropped his end just inside the hatch, but Dave Taker cuffed him on the ear. “Not there! It goes above the brig’s trapdoor.”

  “What?” Corin asked, panting despite himself. “Why?”

  “Ain’t you heard me? Your hostage is some kind of hero. I’m not convinced those chains will slow him down, but I’d like to see him bust through this! Eh?”

  Corin groaned inwardly, but for Taker’s sake he bent his knees and heaved the chest back up again, just to slide it two paces over. It fell across the sliding panel like the lid of a sarcophagus, and Corin knew it wouldn’t budge until Dave Taker was ready to help move it.

  Dave Taker seemed pretty satisfied of the fact too. He nodded to himself a moment, then stretched his back and craned his neck to look toward the cutter. “I think that has us set. Can you see your partner? Is he coming back yet?”

  Corin had to climb back out of the hold to get a good look, and even then he wasn’t sure. The moonlight played in broken slivers on the cove’s black waters, and the cutter itself threw a huge shadow. Corin went to the railing, raised a hand to his eyes, and stared a moment, but he saw no sign of the rowboat.

  “Nothing yet,” he called over his shoulder. “I suspect he couldn’t find the letters under your directions.”

  Dave Taker answered with some noise, barely a grunt, but it was enough to catch Corin’s attention. The man had never left the cramped hold. Instead he knelt above the lockbox, open now, and as Corin turned that way he heard a metallic snap and a rasp, and saw a flash of light. Like flint and tinder. Once, twice, and then a third time brought a sudden flare that was quickly concealed as Taker slammed shut the lockbox’s lid. All three exquisite locks snapped shut at once.

  Then Taker turned and found Corin watching him. “What was that?” Corin asked.

  “Revenge,” Taker answered. Then he sprinted to the port bow and leaped the low railing. He landed in the rowboat, cast off the line, and kicked away hard from the low-riding river boat. “Better jump!” he called to Corin. “Better jump real soon. If you swim fast enough, maybe you can join us in the cutter.”

  Then he pulled hard on the oars and shot away toward the bigger ship.

  Paralyzed, Corin watched him go. In the hold behind him, Corin heard the angry, popping hiss of a powder fuse burning toward its charge.

  Revenge, he’d said. That was just what Corin had used to entice him, and now he paid the price. Corin remembered all too clearly a story Charlie Claire had shared. A justicar had found his crew while they were under Ethan Blake. They’d trapped him in the Diavahl’s hold and blown a hole through the bottom of it with a lockbox full of dwarven powder. Even here, when Corin and Ezio first met him, Dave Taker had bragged about burying a justicar beneath the sea.

  Now he meant to do the same thing to the farmboy. And unless he moved fast, to Corin with him. But despite his sudden understanding, despite the threatening hiss of burning cord behind him, Corin couldn’t move. He couldn’t throw himself overboard. He hated dwarven powder and he wanted to run, but he couldn’t.

  He couldn’t just leave Auric to die. It astonished him. Despite his every instinct, he rushed toward the explosive chest. He dove into the upper hold and wasted half a breath searching the lockbox for some weak point he might exploit. There was none. It was a work of extraordinary quality, and in a moment it would be so much kindling bobbing on the quiet waters of the cove.

  Corin abandoned that hope and fell to his knees, pounding frantically against the planks. “Auric! Auric, can you hear me! Wake up! For the love of everything, wake up!”

  For a dreadful moment, Corin heard nothing but the burning of the fuse. Then a feeble voice rose in answer. “Who goes?”

  “Corin. Corin Hugh. I’m the friend you met in the forest. I led you to the pirate camp.”

  “They got me, Corin. Must have been some magic. They got me.”

  “I know. And things are bad. Things are really bad. You have to break out of there.”

  A moment passed, a distant rattling, and then Auric cried, “No good. The magic hasn’t passed yet. I can barely lift my head, and someone’s chained my arms and legs.”

  Corin dropped his head against the planks. He’d done that. He’d attached the chains, and even if the chest’s explosion didn’t kill the farmboy, that huge iron ball would drag him to the bottom of the cove.

  “Listen,” Corin shouted, and then he found he had nothing to say. He floundered for a moment. “Auric…I’m sorry.”

  “Chin up, friend.”

  Corin shook his head. “You don’t understand. They’ve rigged the ship with cannon powder. In a moment, this ship is going down.”

  “A
h. Well. That’s a challenge.”

  Corin’s shoulders slumped. “I have a plan. It might not work.”

  “Forget it,” Auric called. “Are you chained up too?”

  “No. No, they…didn’t catch me. I just slipped aboard.”

  “Then slip off,” Auric said. “If you can get away, get away. Leave the danger to us adventurers.”

  “I can’t,” Corin said. “I can’t just leave you.”

  “It’s an order, friend. Don’t fret too much over me. I’ve been in worse places than this.”

  Corin wasn’t listening. Frantic now, he closed his eyes and focused hard. He tried to imagine the cramped little hold where he had spent three days, but in his memory it was nothing but darkness and hard boundaries. Still, he fixed the shape of it in his mind and wished desperately to be there. Just as he’d done half a dozen times before. He stepped through dream, then opened his eyes to see the lockbox still before him. He hadn’t moved.

  “Auric!” he shouted.

  “Just go.”

  “Auric, you don’t understand. This was no accident. Someone sent the pirate to kill you. He’s a Vestossi, same as Sera, and he wants you dead to hurt her.”

  “Sera? You…you know about Sera?”

  “Listen to me, Auric! We cannot let them win. We have to find some way.”

  “No. Forget me. Go to her. Find Sera in Aerome and warn her. If she has enemies among her family, she has to know.”

  “I can’t just leave you here. Auric! Auric?”

  But the man answered no more. Corin tried again to step through dream, and again it was to no avail. He braced himself against the wall and propped his feet against the hissing lockbox and tried with all his might to heave it aside, but it wouldn’t even budge. His strength was spent.

  He pounded on the planks. He cried to Auric, but the man gave no answer. Perhaps the druids’ poison had won out again, or perhaps it was from stubbornness that he refused to speak, but he would give no answer, and Corin could find no way into the inner hold.

  And still, all the while, the fuse burned angrily away. At last, Corin could contain his fear no more. With a cry of anguish, he tore himself away, sprang up out of the hold and dashed across the quarterdeck. He flung himself across the railing and splashed into the cold, dark waters of the bay one heartbeat before powder caught.