by Rosie Scott
“Thank the gods somebody does.”
Koby huffed at my dry humor and said, “I found a ship for sale today.”
“I saw no new ships in the harbor when I passed it.”
“That's because it's not new. It's been here. The seller apparently just decided he'd rather sell and build a new ship while waiting for the northern situation to clear. It's a caravel, and he's asking forty grand. I figure that if you haggle with him, we can get it for thirty.” Koby grinned.
“You overstate my haggling skill.”
“Pfft. Do I? I watched you make a rich man sweat in Al Nazir in under three minutes, and he was used to that blasted heat.”
I chuckled. “I'll see what I can do.”
“We have to get out of Killick,” Koby reminded me. “If Cale's headed to the wildlands, he already has a head-start.”
“I know,” I sighed, finally standing from the bed and putting out my cigarette on the glass of the unlit oil lamp on the bedside table. I quickly got dressed next.
“You want to see the guy tonight?” Koby asked as I pulled my shirt on over my head. “Hassan knows where he's been staying. He can fetch him and set up a meeting.”
“Might as well.” I sauntered over to the door and opened it just to see Hassan on the other side with his fist raised and ready to knock. “Perfect timing.”
Hassan's widened eyes took in the state of the room, catching on the sleeping woman in the bed, Koby in the chair, and the flushed look on my face. “Wait,” he began, baffled. Looking at Koby and motioning toward the woman, he asked, “Didn't you and her—”
“Yep,” Koby affirmed.
Hassan switched his gaze to me and said, “And then did you just—”
“Yep,” I mimicked Koby's response.
Hassan pointed at Koby. “While he was still here?”
“Yep,” I repeated. Hassan's face contorted with confusion.
Koby laughed at his reaction. “It's nothing I haven't seen before. We spent decades enslaved in a brothel together, remember?”
“Yeah, but—” Hassan cut himself short and threw up his hands in defeat. “You know what? I'm not even gonna ask. It's none of my business, but let it be known that I consider myself a pervert and even I think you two are weird.”
“Is that why you came to knock on our door?” I questioned.
Hassan chuckled shortly. “No. I just wanted to make sure everything was all right. You seemed irritated when you came in here and then I heard a couple of grunts behind closed doors. I figured they were made out of anger rather than pleasure because I'm sane and can't imagine having sex in front of my friends unlike some people I know.”
“Gods,” I mused lightheartedly, glancing back at Koby. “Do I really sound angry during sex?”
Koby shrugged. “I didn't think so, but then again, I wasn't paying much attention.” He motioned toward his paperwork. “I had shit to do.”
“Well, this conversation just keeps getting weirder,” Hassan muttered with perplexity.
“We need you,” I told him.
“Now is not the particular time I want to hear that,” Hassan jested dryly.
“Not to join,” I clarified. “Koby said you know where to find the seller of the caravel.”
“Oh.” Hassan brightened. “Yeah. You want to go tonight?”
“Let's,” I replied. “We're not getting out of Killick without a ship.”
Two
“I'm asking forty,” Liam Draper began, standing on the pier beside his caravel. He was a desperate man. Fatigue settled in the wrinkles around his eyes, and the tone of his voice indicated the ship was a constant irritation he'd rather be rid of. I had more than forty grand to spend; we kept most of our gold in chests and therefore recovered it in full from the seas. But the prospect of making a deal excited me, and I excelled at haggling. Although Liam asked for forty, that wasn't what he'd get.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and nodded up at the vessel. Against the backdrop of darkening evening skies, the caravel was a mish-mash of shadows and golden glows from lamp lights. “Can I take a look at it?”
“Of course,” Liam agreed, taking a step toward the boarding ramp before glancing at Koby's bad leg. “Apologies—”
Koby shrugged lightly and waved us on, leaning against a barrel with Hassan on his other side. “You two go ahead.”
As Liam turned to walk up the ramp, I gave Koby a casual yet confident look that said this ship would be ours by nightfall. He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows with hope before I turned to follow Liam on deck.
The caravel was set up much different than the cog design of the Wobblin' Woody. While the cog's poop deck and forecastle sat high above its wide quarterdeck, the caravel was far flatter in design, thinner, and elongated. There were no high walls with parapets, only short railings that barely protected the deck from ocean spray due to its low-riding hull. It featured a mainmast and mizzenmast rigged with green and gray striped triangular sails.
“How many crew does it take to run?” I asked.
“Twenty,” Liam replied, waiting patiently as I glanced around for the whipstaff. I couldn't find it.
“And the whipstaff?”
“Doesn't have one. You steer directly with the tiller in the steerage room.”
I wrinkled my nose in distaste. I much preferred being in the open air while directing a ship.
Liam noticed my reaction and blurted like a consolation, “She's quick. Got a round-bottom and can sail right into the wind with these triangular sails. It's called tacking—you just sail through the winds at an angle, and you're good to go. You can outrun any pirates.”
“Then why'd you decide to stay in Killick and sell it?”
Liam hesitated, understanding I called out his over-exaggeration. “I'd rather avoid a fight. All that chasing makes me nervous.”
I tugged out a ferris cigarette and casually lit it from an oil lamp sitting on a nearby crate. After taking a puff, I mused, “I faced pirates multiple times on the seas these past few years, and I can tell you that outside of the ever-elusive galleon, the one ship they love the most is the caravel for its speed.” I blew out a long stream of smoke and added, “And considering my cargo will slow me down, I doubt I'm going to outrun a lightweight pirate caravel that picks a fight.”
“How much cargo do you have?” Liam asked, seeming anxious.
“My cog carried two hundred tons, and we recovered half of it.”
Liam grimaced and looked away. “I'm sorry to inform you that this only carries seventy.”
“Then I'm downgrading in more ways than one.” Though I played up my disappointment intending to haggle for a better price, the unfortunate reality of our situation truly hit. Evidently, Koby and I had been immensely lucky to have the Wobblin' Woody and its massive cargo hold. I hoped to the gods our sailors would want to stick with us now that our future profit potential was severely slashed.
“I understand this is a disappointment for you,” Liam began, “but there are no other ships currently for sale here. If you want to buy this caravel and leave some of that cargo in Killick to come back for it, I know a trader with a warehouse here who might be willing to store it for a good price.”
“While I appreciate that offer, if I have to pay to store my cargo because the ship you're selling me can't carry it all, I have to consider that in my offer.”
Though Liam stiffened, he agreed, “That's reasonable.”
“I offer you twenty-five.”
He sucked an inhale through his lips with a hiss. “I can't even consider selling it for that low.”
“I have crew to pay to the wildlands and back, all because I have to make two trips for the profit of one.”
Liam exhaled in a rush and offered, “Thirty-five.”
I laughed in disbelief and took another drag of ferris.
“Thirty-three,” Liam blurted. I couldn't help but be amused that he suddenly haggled himself down in price.
“Twenty-six,” I said m
uffled around my cigarette.
“Thirty-one.”
I snorted a laugh, threw my cigarette over the taffrail, and started walking toward the ramp to leave. “Yeah, sure. I'll give you thirty thousand gold so you can live in luxury while I lose my life and livelihood north of Killick.” I stopped at the top of the boarding ramp. Koby peered back at me from the dock, concerned by my sudden departure. I gave him a slight wink before I turned to Liam. “Because I'm assuming the caravel can't go through the safe strait of Killick, correct?”
Liam seemed panicked by my dwindling interest and admitted, “No. The strait is too shallow and narrow—”
“Right. Another disadvantage compared to the cog. You're asking for permission to rob me before sending me to my death.”
Liam stuttered but said nothing. I turned again, taking my first step down the boarding ramp.
“Twenty-nine!” Liam called out behind me, to which I abruptly stopped and grinned. Koby claimed I could haggle Liam down to thirty. Now that I'd beaten that estimation to satiate my pride, I was ready to make a deal.
I sobered and turned back to Liam, reaching out for a handshake. “For twenty-nine, you have yourself a deal.”
*
Rik Sbarjo was a human with tanned skin, a slight limp, and long straggly brown hair that looked like he never introduced it to soap. Despite all this, he was nothing but friendly as he led Koby and me into the warehouse in which he offered to rent us space for the cargo we couldn't fit on our new caravel.
It was a sizeable rectangular building, built of whole logs held together by tawny chinking. Inside were rows of shelving and collections of barrels, crates, and canvas sacks. Thick chains hung over crossbeams. Dollies, wagons, pulleys, and other methods of goods transportation were stored just inside the door. The floor was hardwood, though thick layers of grit made it appear like dirt. Particles of dust floated lazily through beams of sunlight that harassed tiny vent-like windows cut out of wood near the ceiling.
“This is it,” Rik announced, spinning to motion dramatically at our surroundings. I stopped to look around at the place while keeping Koby propped up as he hung off my shoulder. “This is my piece of paradise.”
“Liam called you a trader,” I prodded.
“Aye,” Rik agreed with a short nod. “Used to go all around the world until the pirates took over the northern waters. Now I focus on transport from here to Nahara.”
I met his gaze. “Still?”
“Aye,” he repeated. “I stick to Llyr most of the time since the route to Al Nazir is closer to the danger zone.” He hesitated and added with realization, “Don't think that doesn't mean your stuff won't be taken care of. It will. I have good people here in charge of guarding these goods while I'm gone.”
“Have you ever considered being a middle man?” I asked.
Rik tilted his head. “In what way?”
“Seems to me you're in quite the position to make a profit here in Killick,” I began. “Its harbor is in the east, only reachable by ships willing to go around north or south when coming from the west. Yet, most don't like circling to the south due to the extra time required to travel around Killick's smallest island, and going north forces you to confront pirates or the sea beast, whichever is hungriest for chaos. So mercenaries aren't traveling here at all given there's no harbor on the western shores. If someone wanted to transport goods from the wildlands to Nahara, the risk isn't worth the reward. But if they were to drop them off on Killick's western shores instead, you could take a cut of the profits by transporting cargo across the island to the harbor, where you could deliver it to Nahara and pick up goods for the wildlands.”
Rik nodded along, understanding. “But no mercenaries even want to risk coming to Killick for that to work. We've seen ships sunk off-shore of the western coast.”
“We're here,” I pointed out, motioning to myself and Koby.
Rik's eyes cleared with realization. “Is this a proposition?”
“Possibly.” I dug a cigarette out of my pocket. “Can I smoke in here?”
“Go ahead,” Rik agreed. As I lit the drug and started smoking, he shifted his weight to his good leg and crossed his arms, looking contemplative. “Why are you looking for a middle man?”
“We have to make a living, but pirates sunk our cog. Now, our cargo hold is limited, and we're not focused solely on trade anymore considering there are a lot of pirates out there we want to kill. Still, I want to be able to count on a steady stream of income while having enough freedom to take time out to chase these bastards down if I have to. If we deliver goods to Killick and you handle transport to Nahara, I'll share profits with you and save a lot of time and stress for each trip since I won't have to traverse the danger zone.”
“I'd be one step behind you,” Rik pointed out. “Every time you dropped off cargo, I'd be paying you for the last batch.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” I said with a shrug. “If you're interested in partnering with us, we can write up a contract and build trust over time. We know where you live and where you store your goods. You know better than to screw us over, and we won't undercut you because we need this. The wildlands need this. They desperately need supplies from Nahara, and a lot of the shit I bought for them is lost in the abyss with my cog.”
Rik exhaled thickly and said, “Liam told me you drove a hard bargain, but I sense your honesty. Allow me to be blunt in return. Thank Chance for your offer because it couldn't have come at a better time. I feel stuck in Killick. I'm trading just fine with Llyr, but Killick's native exports are fish, lumber, and fruit. Fish, lumber, and fruit.” He gave me and Koby a look of exasperation and added, “Not only is that boring, I'm making very little money anymore. Llyr and Al Nazir are both overwhelmed with fish and fruits of their own, and they pay little for lumber since they rely on sandstone and iron. Please tell me you two trade rarer goods, because if you do, I'll jump to be your partner.”
“Ferris and blood,” I drawled around my cigarette.
“I'm in,” Rik replied immediately, to which Koby chuckled.
“There's one caveat,” I added.
“What's that?”
“You'll have to take any ferris we bring you to Al Nazir. I have a partner there who pays over six grand per crate. Llyr's a harder sell. The pirates we're after used us as a stepping stone for their own little ferris enterprise, so they've already flooded the market with the goods they stole from us and are hoping to steal more from the wildlands.”
Rik sighed with frustration. “Those gods damn pirates, I swear—”
“Don't worry,” Koby interrupted lightly. “We'll take care of it.”
“How do you figure?” Rik asked. “They infest those waters like flies.”
“Why do you think we need partnerships like this?” I questioned in turn. “Like I said, we need some freedom of time and space to work with here because we're after them.”
“If you hear of an explosion in Llyr in the coming weeks,” Koby added, “that was us. We destroyed their underground slave tunnel and took out a few dozen of them.”
Rik glanced down at Koby's injured leg in a new light. “I'll be damned. Consider me impressed.”
“We have some ideas of what they're planning,” I added. “I'm hoping we can sabotage their plans before they get further and work Llyr back into our favor.”
“In the meantime, we'll work around it,” Rik agreed.
We. That meant Rik already considered himself our partner. I suppressed a smile from an overwhelming feeling of accomplishment and asked, “Do you have an office hiding somewhere in this place?”
“No, but if you want to talk details we can go back to my home,” Rik offered.
“Let's,” I agreed, supporting Koby with an arm around his waist as we turned to leave. My best friend didn't have to say a word; by his silence throughout the conversation I could tell he simply enjoyed sitting back and watching me do what I did best.
As we followed Rik out of
the warehouse, he said, “I'm glad we met, Calder. This deal will be beneficial to the both of us.”
Three
After four weeks in Killick, we prepared to set sail for the wildlands. Aches and pains plagued every inch of my body from transforming so much in a short period, but that did nothing to stop my determination. Not only did we find a new vessel, Koby and I made a deal with Rik that allowed us to circumvent the pirate-infested waters in future voyages unless we prepared to face them. Already Rik planned to trade with Nahara for many of the supplies we'd lost in the shipwreck; by the time we came back to Killick, he would have a shipment waiting for us.
Of course, that was for future voyages; for now, we had to focus on getting back to the wildlands safely. The caravel couldn't go through Killick's strait, and traveling north around both islands would likely end in being surrounded and overwhelmed in the danger zone no matter how hard we fought. Going around Killick's southern end was inconvenient and time-consuming, but it was the only option available to us. We had to give a tiny island to the east of the settlement a wide, lengthy berth because of the shallow waters it settled in, and the extra distance would cost us extra in supplies and a half season of time. It was little wonder trade had slowed to a stop even though the southern route was open; it was so costly and time-consuming most didn't bother.
The caravel was a beautiful, svelte vessel. Still, as I stared at it with my arms crossed and a cigarette dangling out of my mouth on the morning we were to leave Killick, I couldn't help but be irked by its shortcomings compared to the cog. Such frustrations helped to spur my creativity when Kali bounded up to Koby and me on the pier and asked, “So, Captain, what ingenious name are we giving this one?”
I puckered my lips in thought. Though I still stared at the ship, I felt Koby's gaze of humored anticipation. “Because Cale and his crew shafted us, we had to buy this raft. We'll call it the Shaft Raft.”
Koby burst into laughter. The echoes of Hassan's chortles escaped the ship's upper deck after he overheard. Jaecar shook his head with playful disappointment. Neliah stood beside the boarding ramp on the pier, her arms crossed and gaze unimpressed. Kali threw her hands up and started walking toward Killick as she announced, “I quit!”