by Rosie Scott
“Yeah, but the word is that you've been waiting to ask Koby and me about something specifically.”
Kali was quiet a moment before she blurted, “That little shit.”
I laughed. “It accidentally slipped out when we were already talking about you,” I defended Hassan. “He felt terrible for it.”
“He'll feel worse later when I—wait. Why were you talking about me?”
I smirked at her distracted nature. “For the same reason I brought you out here. Don't change the subject. Talk to me.”
Kali sighed. “Well—you probably already know what I want to ask. We've been to Nahara multiple times together, boss, and we're killing slavers. There's one I want to kill more than anyone.”
“Yasir.”
She sobered, a shocked but appreciative expression taking over her dark features. “You remembered.”
“I won't lie; I forgot his name until Hassan's reminder. But I remembered your story.”
“That's what shocked me,” Kali admitted. “You must hear so many life stories from crew members and the women you bed that I didn't expect you to remember mine.”
“Do you speak with the expectation of not being heard?”
Kali smiled warmly. “Not anymore.” She motioned to my cigarette. “Can I?”
I handed it to her. As she took a drag, I said, “Whenever you're feeling up to it in Nahara, just say the word and we'll hunt him down. You're in charge.”
“Yeah?” Kali handed the ferris back. Deep respect reflected back to me from her green eyes.
“Yeah.” I put the cigarette between my lips and wiggled my eyebrows.
“I love you, boss,” she said, like so many times before. This was the first time I could tell she meant it.
I turned back toward the camp and replied, “I know.”
Seventeen
True to my word, our crew left the camp the next morning and began our trek to Silvi. Jayce and Kali had a heartfelt goodbye after spending the night together. Koby and I reiterated our friendship and support to Vallen. The last thing I wanted was for the pirates to overwhelm his group when they returned to the ferris paddies without him knowing how important he had become to us. After losing people I cared about to inconvenient circumstances, I worried that this would be the last time I saw him. Vallen seemed confident that his group would pull through the inevitable battle, if only because the next crew of pirates were unlikely to have many beastmen among them. The ruffians planned to pick up shipments of ferris and perhaps deliver men to replace the Alderi hostages as paddy workers, so they wouldn't likely expect a fight or be prepared for one. Regardless, I viewed this escalation of hostilities between the pirates and the wildlands as our fault, so I viewed every inconvenience as my problem to deal with. At this rate, I would be forever indebted to the wildlands.
Still, Vallen showed nothing but appreciation and friendliness during our goodbye. This time when we hugged, I squeezed him extra tight and sent a quick prayer to Ahebban, the god of conflict and bloodshed, to ask for divine intervention to prepare Vallen for the next inevitable battle. Sage's words about the gods being unresponsive came to mind, but I was desperate to prevent another tragedy and had no other options.
“I will miss you to hell and back, my friends,” Vallen said candidly, his gaze sweeping over all of us but sticking on Koby and me. “Be safe.”
Vallen's words echoed in my head often during our trek back to Silvi because they showcased his concern for our welfare and that of the wildlands if we failed. Somehow, within a few short years Koby and I had become important to so many people here. Koby's list of needed supplies for traders, craftsmen, and businesses in the wildlands was endless. Even if we had all the time in the world, we might never fulfill it. Rather than focus on the stress this immense responsibility created, I tried to put all my attention toward defeating Vruyk and Cale's entire gang. It was a colossal undertaking I still had no idea how to pull off, but doing it would go a long way toward solving the wildlands' mercantile isolation.
The year ticked over to 360 while we traveled through the rainforest, and we arrived in Silvi on the 27th of New Moon. Given what we now knew about Cale's visit here, we asked around at taverns and mercenary hubs for more information. Thanks to a group of mercenaries who rejected Cale's offer to join the gang, we pinpointed the crazed pirate's Silvi visit to early High Star of the previous year. According to them, Cale was forthright about needing to steal a ship to travel east and raid the seas near Killick, and he'd gotten many mercenaries to join him by promising them job security. Cale had never called himself a pirate, but the mercenaries weren't stupid; since he meant to steal a ship and showed no fear about ambushes in the eastern seas, they realized which side he was on. His offer swayed many of the unemployed due to their desperation for work or travel. Contrarily, those who refused Cale's offer were easily swayed by my counteroffer and joined our crew.
Koby and I visited Devlyn Hartwood for the first time in three years to buy a shipment of ferris. Devlyn seemed overjoyed to see us despite the troubled circumstances of our last visit, and we updated him on our trading ails, closer partnerships with Vallen and Jayce, and the escalating hostilities between the wildlands and the pirates. It upset him to hear about the paddy field raid, but he was optimistic about Vallen handling the fallout. Just before we left his office to tour our new ship in the harbor, Devlyn gave Koby a flirtatious proposition with the promise of making us a better deal. Flattered but disinterested, Koby invited Devlyn out to drinks with us that evening, promising to introduce him to Jaecar.
Our entire crew had plans to meet in mid-harbor by late afternoon, but by the time Koby and I reached the docks, the sun had started its descent, inviting bright swirls of pink and coral to the open skies. Despite all the people loitering on the harbor, I recognized our crew from a distance due to fond familiarity. Hassan played what he called tawa sack, kicking around a canvas bag full of sand without letting it hit the ground. Kali watched nearby, switching between taunting and cheering him. Hilly flirted with our new mercenaries. Jaecar sat on the post of a pier, chewing dried mushrooms while reading a book. Sage and Neliah shared a quiet conversation off to the side. Other crew members chatted, played cards, or watched vessels coming into harbor from Eteri in the north.
“It's about damn time, bosses,” Kali called out to us as we approached.
Hassan kicked his tawa sack in the air, snatched it with his hand, and put it away in his satchel. “There's a beaut of a ship a ways down the harbor with a name worse than anything you could think up.”
“Yeah?” I asked, smirking and shoving my hands in my pockets. “How do you know its name?”
“It's painted on the side,” he replied.
“C'mon, everybody,” I called out, jerking my head to the south in an invitation to follow me. “It's time to acquaint ourselves with our new ship, which will surely last us years.”
Hassan chuckled at my sarcasm as he followed just behind me. “Don't you want to know that ship's awful name?”
“Don't need you to tell it to me.”
There was a hesitation. “Oh, gods,” Hassan murmured with growing horror. “You didn't.”
“Didn't what?” Koby glanced back at Hassan before switching his confused and suspicious gaze to me. “Cal? What did you do?”
I reached the correct pier and started walking between two vessels. “When we were last in Silvi, I may have made some plans to get our new ship's name painted on its hull so my naming power as captain is never contested again like it was in Killick.”
The others slowed to a stop on the pier as I turned my back to our new vessel, spread my arms, and allowed a smug grin to dominate my face. Painted in large black cursive letters embellished with gold highlights was the name of our barque: Cunning Linguist.
Koby burst into laughter. Hilly nodded her approval. Kali looked playfully disappointed. Jaecar chuckled. Neliah smirked. Sage seemed impressed by my creativity. Hassan fought a grin as he exclaimed, “N
o! No, Calder! I refuse to be part of this!”
I laughed. “It'd be such a shame if you stayed in Silvi.”
“The name isn't only creative, but it's also accurate,” Sage spoke up matter-of-factly in my defense. “In both senses of the term.”
“Thank you,” I replied with gratitude.
Hassan glared at Sage with such disbelief a few of the others laughed. “Don't encourage this nonsense.”
“Your discouragement did not prevent it from getting worse,” Sage reasoned. “I've merely made the strategic choice to support a man who makes questionable decisions because he pays me.” A playful smile brightened his normally stoic face.
“I feel like that was both an insult and a compliment, but I'll take it,” I said.
“I would only ever insult you to your face if I could veil it as a compliment, sir,” Sage replied, his dry tone hiding his jest.
“So polite,” I teased, raising my eyebrows at Hassan. “Now, are you going to join us on the Cunning Linguist?”
“It seems I have no choice,” Hassan replied with a facetious sigh.
The three-masted barque was by far the largest and nicest ship I'd yet stepped foot upon. It was far longer in design than the cog and caravel. The fore- and mainmasts were rigged square, their sails carried on horizontal spars perpendicular to the keel. Contrarily, the mizzenmast nearest the back of the ship was rigged fore and aft, its sails set along the line of the keel. The foremast was the tallest, extending to fifty meters above the deck. I stood on the quarterdeck and looked up at the foremast's tip, becoming overwhelmed with vertigo.
I had made two requests of the ship's builders out of personal preference rather than need, and it elated me to find they had heeded both. For not only were all the sails as bright red as freshly spilled blood, I could once more direct the vessel from the open deck rather than in a steerage room. For the first time, it was not a whipstaff that stuck out of the hardwood, but a great ship wheel that sat upon a platform. Such a difference in design required a more complicated tiller operation, but Hassan and Hilly both had experience with the maintenance and upkeep of wheel devices and promised to share their knowledge with those who needed to learn.
The barque's longer, flatter quarterdeck meant higher visibility for those on board but fewer defensive options; Hassan would have no higher decks to shoot from. This didn't concern me because we weren't keen on defending without launching a counterattack first in the form of flying and swimming beastmen. The larger space on deck also meant more room for beasts to brawl in battle without causing collateral damage, and it allowed us to store more supplies and tools outside of the storage rooms in the ship's underbelly.
Most of the arguments Koby and I had in the barque's designing involved its cabins below deck. It had various storage rooms, including one with extra open windows for the transport and well-being of beasts. These rooms were easily accessed via a large ramp for heavy cargo and stairways and ladders throughout the deck. There were multiple crew cabins. Each had the capacity of six bunks and a few small drawers for the safekeeping of belongings. A galley with a firebox and bar lined the opposite side of a long hallway, as Koby requested; he'd wanted a place for us all to sit and have a meal together. I had argued that it was unnecessary and took up space we could use for storage, but I inwardly admitted it was a nice addition and looked forward to spending time there.
Finally, Koby and I had our first captain's quarters. It was only large enough for two double beds with a tiny strip of floor between them and a chest for our belongings on either end. Hanging storage cabinets lined every wall. This room was my request; I'd wanted larger beds for coitus and our own room so my inevitable nightmares didn't wake the crew or cause concern. Koby argued that it was unnecessary and took up space we could use for storage, but he had nothing but nice things to say as we stocked the room with all our things.
Perhaps we just really liked to bicker.
After spending a few days in the harbor loading cargo and getting acquainted with the ship, we set sail for Killick. I felt better than I ever had once we were finally on the seas again. The Cunning Linguist was a beautiful vessel, with polished golden-brown wood, a wide open deck, and gorgeous red sails. Oftentimes I zoned out while steering the ship eastward because I was in a rare state of peace. With nothing but the rolling blue ocean surrounding us and the bold red sails giving the scene extra courageousness, everything felt right. This was who I was always meant to be.
About a fortnight into our voyage, Koby came out at nightfall to take over. Save for the whine of Hassan's mizmar, the night was quiet and peaceful. Some sailors and mercenaries played games or drank outside to enjoy the coolness of the late hour. The muted murmur of laughter and conversation echoed from below deck, where others congregated in the galley. Every few seconds a soft wind whistled through the sails above and tickled my clothes until they rippled. Koby silently stopped beside me, waiting for me to hand over control of the vessel. Rather than let go of the wheel and say good night as I usually did, I heeded the ache in my chest that said I missed him.
“I'm going to stay up here for a little while yet,” I informed him.
“Oh,” Koby said, surprised. “All right.” He made no move to leave.
“You should give Kali control more often,” I suggested.
In my peripheral vision, he frowned with confusion. “Why?”
“Then our schedules won't always clash.”
“Aw. You miss me.”
“Pfft.”
Koby chuckled. “Why don't you give Kali control during the day? Then you can become a night owl like me.”
“Because I can't see a damn thing at night.”
“It's harder for me to see during the daytime.”
“At least you can see.”
“If I squint so the light doesn't burn my eyeballs out of my head,” Koby retorted lightly. After a moment, he pondered, “I love the surface, but it wasn't made for us. I wonder what would happen to surface-dwellers if they ventured underground.”
I flinched at his sudden mention of it. I patted my trouser pocket, feeling for cigarettes. “The underground would disable surface-dwellers much like we're out of place here. It'd be miserable for them.”
“Much like there are ways for us to deal with the surface's issues, there would be ways for surface-dwellers to deal underground,” Koby said with confidence.
Rather than reply and continue the unsavory subject, I prepared to smoke.
Koby recognized my discomfort and shook his head, clearing his face of his long dark bangs. “I'm proud of us.”
I chuckled around my cigarette at his perky comment. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. We're making connections left and right and somehow managed to get a whole crew of talented people to follow us.”
“Even talented people can have terrible judgment.”
He laughed. “Yes, but perhaps it speaks wonders of your power of persuasion. Who knew the same man who used to know only sarcasm and insults could be so charming? It'll help us, you know. When we need to hire people en masse to take on Vruyk or—” he abruptly hesitated, thinking twice about his wording “—anything else.”
I decided to ignore his obvious allusions to the underground civil war he wanted so badly to start. “We'd need to become really rich men in order to hire the people necessary to take on the entire gang.”
“Don't get pessimistic, Cal,” Koby scolded lightly. “You were a lot more motivated before Cale destroyed the Wobblin' Woody.”
“I'm not being pessimistic for once,” I argued. “Just realistic. It'll take a whole hell of a lot more than our crew to clean up that mess north of Killick. We could trade for decades and still not have enough gold to hire a mercenary navy, and that's assuming we actually get the gold for each voyage. Who knows if we'll even reach Killick's western shores safely this time?”
“We can switch our focus to Eteri,” Koby suggested. “Skip the danger zone altogether.”
“And ma
ke a fraction of the gold,” I pointed out. “Smuggling ferris is so risky there that we couldn't deal only in ferris. It would take a century to save enough.”
“Then what do you want to do?” he asked openly.
“I don't know. That's what's frustrating. Sometimes I think we're idiots for getting involved with this. It's far larger than us. We're ill-prepared.”
“But you're not giving up,” Koby prodded.
I exhaled a stream of smoke that zipped away in the ocean breeze. “No.”
“That's all that matters for now. Let's just focus on one thing at a time. Cut this big bastard of an obstacle down into manageable pieces.”
I huffed with amusement at his colorful wording.
“I hope Vallen's men are alive and well,” Koby commented.
An ache clenched my gut. “Why wouldn't they be?”
“If Cale's men returned to the Forks after a quick stop in Llyr, they would've made it back around the turn of the new year. Here we are, a third of a moon afterward. It's possible they've already battled.”
I focused my stare on the pulsating stars in the heavens above. If Vallen were still alive, I wondered if he could see the same sky. I internally pleaded for my intuition to give me answers revolving around the outcome of Vallen's battle, but it refused my request. “If they've already battled, then Vallen's men were outnumbered. Volunteers wouldn't have had enough time to get to the Forks unless their blood-kin could fly.”
“Beastmen excel at being outnumbered,” Koby pointed out optimistically. “Every time you fight, I'm amazed at how many you kill. The other beastmen are the same way. When we fought in the Forks, some Tenesea warriors didn't even get a chance to draw their weapons. Shapeshifting is so powerful.”
The awe in his tone boosted my pride. “Would you shapeshift if you could?”
“Hell no,” he answered immediately, to which I laughed. “I see what you go through. I wouldn't risk all that for the world. I respect that you do, but it's hard enough dealing with its flaws second-handedly.”