The Pirate Story Megapack: 25 Classic and Modern Tales

by Robert E. Howard

  It’s all right what Jessop says, and when we saw him swimming (I was the one who spotted him) we got out a boat quicker than a wind-jammer ever got out a boat before, I should think.

  The Captain and the Mate and the Second and I are all going to sign this.

  (Signed)

  WILLIAM NAWSTON Master.

  J.E.G. ADAMS First Mate.

  ED. BROWN Second Mate.

  JACK T. EVAN Third Mate.

  THE PIRATES OF CALUUR, by John Gregory Betancourt

  Fel Blackmane is not my real name, but I answer to it readily enough, and no one—not even my crew—knows another for me, except Pirate.

  * * * *

  It was just past dawn. As I stood in the bow, feet braced against the high wooden railing, I watched my ship nose in among smaller craft tied at Caluur’s docks. The huge inland harbor, fed by hot springs to the north, lead into those two great southern rivers, the Asta and the Ribelta. Hundreds of people had sailed up into the harbor for Caluur’s annual fair. To my right and left bobbed small, single-masted boats of fisher-folk; ahead I saw the flat, empty beds of river-barges whose cargoes were already up for sail at various stands and booths.

  There were no proud schooners such as my own Pamah Reach. With her three masts, deep, wide keel, and five-hundred-ton frame, she’d been built for the sea, not rivers. But Caluur Harbor ran deep enough, and how I got my ship past the shallows and rapids was my own business. What did I care if they called me a fool? I could always steal another ship, as I had stolen Pamah. Besides, everyone knows pirates are crazy, and I had a reputation to protect.

  That was why I’d come to Caluur’s fair. I made it a point to do one so-called impossible thing each year. Last winter it had been to fight three of King Serwin’s best battleships in the space of one week, seize all three, and send them back to the King’s wife with my compliments `For Services Rendered.’ The spring before that I’d led the first successful raid on Bar Altibb, the best-defended, once supposed impenetrable fortress of the Gulziress of Font. This year I intended to set up shop in Caluur’s fair—and sell goods back to those I’d stolen them from. It would be the greatest joke and coup of my ten-year career. And to top it all off, I’d brought my pirate ship and crew with me.

  People were already swarming along the dock, following the Pamah Reach’s course. I recognized a half-dozen or so of them: Catwen Op, Vern Nuli, Jastar Fiseltis, others—all former sea-captains whose cargoes I’d…liberated…on more than one occasion. Several cursed at me. I only smiled and waved and waited for the guardsmen who ran things to make their presence felt. Already I could see brightly plumed helms moving up and down behind peoples’ heads. The guards would soon be at the front of the crowd, keeping order.

  Beyond the jostling mob rose the thick stone walls of the city of Caluur, and beyond those walls, jutting like so many fingers, thrust the colorful towers and spires of its great buildings. The fair spread around the base of the city walls. Thousands of merchants would be there, and tens of thousands of customers.

  “Ease a bit port,” I called back to the wheel.

  The second mate shouted, “Aye, sir!” and did so.

  Ahead, on the inside of the third-most pier, lay an empty berth. Seizing the end of the mooring rope coiled beside me, I waited. I heard a splash as the anchor dropped, and the squeak of rigging as sails were lowered.

  “I’ll see you hang, pirate!” shouted a red-faced man in blue robes.

  Another called, “Hanging’s too good for him—death by torture!”

  Then the guardsmen drew their swords and pushed the people back thirty feet—a safe-area.

  The dock crept closer; I felt my ship beginning to slow. A boy of perhaps eight slipped through the guards and ran to the edge of the dock. I tossed him the end of the mooring rope, which he quickly looped around the end of a piling, drawing it tight as the Pamah moved closer.

  With a shudder, the anchor caught and eased us to a halt barely half a foot from the dock. I stepped down while the crew began to stow the sails away and see to their various shipboard tasks. List, my tall, dark-skinned first mate, bellowed orders.

  I gave the boy a silver coin and off he ran.

  “That’s him!” the red-faced man shouted again. “That’s Fel Blackmane, the pirate! Grab him!”

  The crowd surged forward, but the guardsmen kept their swords up and the people in place by sheer force. They lashed out with their fists and soon my attackers drew back nursing bloodied noses and blacked eyes. The captain of the guards pushed through to the safe-area and shouted for silence. He was a large, heavily built man dressed all in brown, from his leggings to his steel and leather helmet, and commanded instant attention. With his thick black beard and bushy black eyebrows, he looked like someone I wouldn’t want to meet in an honest fight. So I made a pretense of smoothing my yellow silk shirt and black silk pants that puffed out from ankle to waist, then ran my fingers through my yellow beard and set the jewels there jingling and flashing in the sunlight.

  “Are you Fel Blackmane, the pirate?” he demanded.

  “No,” I said, “I’m Fel Blackmane, the trader. And you?”

  He blinked.

  Slow-thinking lout. I’d have no trouble getting in. I almost felt a twinge of disappointment. Almost.

  “I’m Perris Bolat, captain of Caluur’s guardsmen.”

  “Ah, good sir, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance!” I clapped him on the back as though we were old friends. “I’ve studied Caluur’s laws, and under them I’m entitled to protection from thieves and cut-throats such as those assembled here. I wish merely to attend your fair. I’ve come to set up a booth and sell various items I’ve taken on during my last voyage.”

  “He’s lying!” the red-faced man shouted. “He robbed me and my ship of twenty-thousand in silks and spice six years ago! I demand justice!”

  “Jealous competitor,” I murmured, so only Bolat could hear.

  He hesitated. I could see him weighing everything in his mind.

  “The wardens at the head of the Asta River didn’t have any objections to my entering the fair,” I pointed out, as if I’d given them a chance to object. All ships had to be inspected before sailing into the harbor. I’d never much cared for such rules and always found ways around them.

  “I will have to ask the fair’s council,” he said. “Wait aboard your ship.”

  I nodded and bowed my most suave bow. “As you wish, sir. I trust the matter will soon be taken care of.” With that, I turned and boarded the Pamah Reach again. I went straight to my cabin without looking back.

  Inside, I began to laugh.

  * * * *

  The council came to see me that afternoon. They were three old men swathed in black ceremonial robes, which meant they held their errand in distaste. Ivory masks hid their faces. List ushered them in, then closed the door when we were all inside.

  Gilded wooden furniture and rich tapestries surrounded us. I sat at the chart table trying to look humble and honest. A chandelier jangled overhead as a low swell shifted the ship.

  “Am I to be deprived of seeing your faces?” I asked.

  “That is not why we have come,” said the one on the right, a deep-voiced man. “We know you are Fel Blackmane, the pirate. If you would set up a booth to trade and sell your goods, we will not deny your right. But be warned: there are those here who hold grudges against you, and would soon enough see you dead. The guardsmen cannot protect you every moment of the day. Certain persons can be bought to take your life. We advise you to sail back to the sea. Ply your trade there, pirate.”

  I shook my head. The jewels in by beard spun and twinkled in the dim light, hypnotic, soothing. “I will stay, I think…though not for the whole fair.”

  “Good.”

  “Is there anything else you wish to tell me?”

  “Do not cause us trouble.”

  I spread my palms. “How could I? There are no weapons aboard my ship.”

  “We know. Our spe
lls have checked.”

  I smiled thinly. “You know the gatekeepers take all weapons from the fair’s attenders, just as they take the tax to set up shop.”

  “Will you bide by the rules of our fair?”

  “I have come to sell my goods, not fight or steal.”

  “If that is your will, so be it. You have been warned.”

  “It is.” My lip twisted back. “And thank you for everything.”

  My sarcasm was lost on them. They filed out in silence.

  I’d already sent a couple of my sailors ashore to stake out a place for my booth. I had lumber on board and planned to assemble a small building.

  I went up on deck just in time to see the council disappearing down the gangplank. My men were lounged about, waiting for orders. A wineskin circulated among them.

  I seized the skin and threw it overboard. “I’ll have none of that now. You’ll need clear heads before the day’s over. Now get started—carry the wood ashore.”

  Grumbling good-naturedly, they set to work.

  I sat on the hatch-covers and stared at the dock. The crowd had vanished, dispersed by the guardsmen, but I’d hear again from those who’d called for my blood. I felt the excitement and tension beginning to build.

  * * * *

  “It looks good,” I said, standing back and surveying the work of the ship’s carpenters.

  My booth had been set up in the exact middle of the fair, next to a small tent where fine-worked goods and cloth were sold. Mine was a square wooden building with a red silk canopy in front. The wood had been painted a brilliant green, with Pamah Reach Treasures across the front and sides in yellow. Beneath it, in smaller letters, it said, `Sales by Appointment Only.’

  “Then we’re ready to bring everything ashore?” List asked.

  I shook my head. “Tonight, when it’s dark and nobody can see what they’re doing.”

  “Captain.…”

  “I know what you’re going to say, and yes, I expect someone to try and stop us—perhaps even kill me. But I have everything under control. Trust me, List, trust me.”

  “Aye, Captain.” But I could see he still had doubts.

  * * * *

  I wandered among the various stalls, trying to act inconspicuous. Since I wore a bright green silk shirt, yellow silk pants, a cape of sky-blue velvet trimmed with red skanish-fur, and dozens of sapphires in my beard, a lot of people stared at me. Indeed, I cut a striking figure…exactly as I’d planned.

  Some booths were just wagons with piles of cloth and fur set before them; others were huge, ornate tents made of rustling silks and bright canvas. A puppet show was going on, and I stopped to watch the colorful paper figures going through one of the age-old comedies. Tossing copper coin into the money bowl, I meandered on.

  Word seemed to have spread about me. Everywhere I went I drew strange looks, some wondering, some hostile. I wanted everyone to know I had come to the fair…and that I wasn’t afraid to show myself. Not a soul spoke. It seemed as if they’d all made a conscious decision to ignore me as best they could.

  Then I became aware of men following me. There were two of them—no, three—all raggedly-dressed and carrying slabs of roasted meat on steel skewers. Such skewers could serve as crude weapons, I realized. The men were eating at a leisurely pace, pretending to examine various wares whenever I turned around.

  My heart began to beat faster, and I quickened my step. I glanced around for guardsmen, but didn’t see any. Good. I’ll be able to take care of it myself.

  I turned down a narrow alley between two taverns, turned around, and leaned against the building to my right.

  They started down the alley, saw me waiting, and froze in surprise and suspicion. When I thought they might bolt away, expecting a trap, I motioned them forward.

  “Just the people I was looking for!” I said. “I want to hire you.”

  The one in the lead—a slim, dark-haired man of perhaps twenty—brushed the meat from his skewer and moved forward slowly. He held that skewer like a rapier now, I noticed. The other two would-be cut-throats stood in the alley’s mouth, watching expectantly.

  “You’re a fool,” I said. “Put that down before you get hurt.”

  Slim lunged. I stepped back a half-foot, grabbed his arm and jerked him forward, then broke his wrist. After slamming his head into the tavern’s wall, I let him drop to the muddy ground, dead or unconscious—I didn’t care which.

  The other two just stared, open-mouthed. I guessed Slim had been their leader. I stepped over his body, smiling.

  “Well, my offer still stands. I’m looking for a couple of men to do some work for me. Interested? I’ll pay you fifty silver royals each—no, make it a hundred. I’m feeling generous today!”

  “Uh.…” said the one in front, jaw hanging slack. He, too, was young and thin, but fair-haired—probably from Pethis or Coran. The one behind him was fair-haired too, but coarser of feature and with a heavier build, probably Sevrian.

  “First, put down those ridiculous skewers,” I said.

  They dropped them at once, looking frightened.

  “Now let’s go get something decent to eat while we talk. How about Zelloquan sweet-meats?” Smiling, I stepped forward, put my arms around their shoulders, and led them off toward the best food shop I’d seen.

  * * * *

  In a private booth, we sat and talked over syrupy pancakes of hot ground meat. Their names were Oal and Tessif, I found out, and from their description I recognized the man who’d hired them to kill me: Jastar Fiseltis, captain of the Silver Squid. Jastar never was a man for subtlety. I knew him too well—his practice of killing his partners and taking their share of the profits had become legendary. More than once I’d gone out of my way just to rob him. Of course he’d try to get even.

  One murder attempt down—how many to go?

  I sighed and took out my pouch, pouring a handful of coins onto the table. Oal and Tessif’s eyes bulged. I counted four gold royals for each of them. They grabbed the money and tucked them away.

  “And remember what I told you,” I said.

  “We’ll remember,” said Oal. “At noon tomorrow we begin spreading word that you snuck in and haven’t paid your fair tax. Right?”

  “Right.” I smiled. “Forget and I’ll have my first mate gut you. Do it before noon tomorrow and I’ll gut you myself.”

  He swallowed. I could see he remembered what I’d done to Slim in the alley.

  Then I rose, nodded cordially, and headed back for the Pamah Reach. Night would soon fall, and I needed to supervise the unloading of my cargo.

  * * * *

  “Put it there,” I said.

  Dahle set the crate down with a sigh. “That’s the last one, Captain.”

  “Good.” I looked around my booth. Crates and bundles of various sizes had been stacked everywhere. “Go on back to the ship. Tiol will get you when it’s your turn for the watch.”

  “Yes, sir.” He turned and jogged off into the darkness.

  We’d worked three hours to unload everything I’d brought to sell. Now the only problem would be keeping it safe till morning.

  “Captain,” List said.

  I turned. I had trouble seeing him in the shadows. “Yes?”

  “You can go back to the ship. I’ll keep watch with the others. You’ll need your sleep for the morning.”

  “And you won’t?”

  “My needs are different from yours.”

  I hesitated. “Very well. You know your own limits.”

  “Shh!” He held up one hand. His eyes closed. “Two men are setting oiled cloths against the back wall. They’re going to burn the booth down, if they can.”

  With a growl of anger, I waved to the four crewmen I’d assigned to guard my trade goods. Silently we padded out the door. Tiol, Ivran and I circled around to the right while Lotango and Bull moved to the left.

  We reached the back at about the same time.

  Sure enough, two men crouched there. They ha
d flint and steel and were striking sparks onto oil-soaked rags. Tiol and Ivran seized the first one while I grabbed the other by his collar. He yelped in surprise and tried to jerk away. Then Bull and Lotango grabbed his arms and I let go.

  “Stop struggling,” I told them. “I have no intention of turning you over to the guardsmen.”

  They stopped and stared sullenly up at me.

  “Who hired you?” I demanded. Neither spoke. “I don’t take kindly to having my possessions burned. Start talking or I’ll have my men here break a bone for every second you delay. They’ll start with your fingers.”

  The man on the right shuddered. “No—wait! It was Captain Nuli!”

  Vern Nuli—former captain of the Green Witch. He had a taste for arson: whenever he turned up, competitors’ goods vanished in warehouse fires.

  “I should have known. Release them.” My men did so. “Go,” I said, “and if you come back, you won’t be so lucky.”

  They ran.

  “Captain,” Tiol said, “you should’ve let us—”

  “No,” I said. “It’s not their fault. And I’ll see Captain Vern Nuli tomorrow.”

  With that, I headed back toward my ship.

  * * * *

  In the early hours of the morning I sent runners to various ships’ captains. They carried invitations to visit my booth—and promised a gold coin to anyone who didn’t find something to buy.

  I came ashore at dawn, breathing deeply. Today I’d chosen conservative garb: a white linen shirt, brown riding breeches, scuffed boots. Not a single gem decorated my beard. To all appearances, I might be any commoner.

  Nobody noticed as I wandered through the fair. One girl even smiled sweetly at me as she passed. Finally I reached my own booth and meandered in to stand under the canopy.

  “What happened during the night?” I asked List.

  He yawned and shrugged. “About what you expected, Captain. Two clumsy thieves tried to cut their way in through the back wall. Someone else tried to throw a torch onto the roof.”