The strange pirate fired a barrage of chain. Sails were shredded, spars shattered and half of Mermaid’s foremast toppled forward. Debris and men rained down on the deck. A few seconds later, the other pirates fired broadsides of grape. Imperial sailors were scythed down like so much wheat.
In the lull that followed, Brick got slowly to his hands and knees. Blood dripped into his eyes and he took a moment to wipe it away. Around him he heard breaking glass. Glass? Get up, you’re an officer in the Imperial Navy, not some farmboy. He stood and took stock.
Very few men were on their feet. Some were bleeding, none were officers. Brick noticed the First Lieutenant’s head, at the foot of the mast. There was more breaking glass, and Brick looked up. Men on the port side of the notch were throwing bottles at the Mermaid. Bottles? Why bottles? His eyes went next to the helm, and he saw Captain Sweetwood on the deck. Brick ran to check on him.
Sweetwood still breathed but Brick was unable to rouse him. Another bottle smashed at his feet, and the boy caught the sharp scent of rum. I have to act. “Let’s go Mermaids! Show these buggers that the Empire can’t be defeated!” Brick’s boyish voice cracked a little, but he had the attention of his crew. Another bottle broke on the wheel. This one was lamp oil.
“Marines! Stop those men!” The marines that were still on their feet raised their muskets and fired at the men on the hill. Fire arrows came back at them.
Several of them found puddles of flammable liquid. The flames spread quickly. Then they heard the report of a massive broadside. The guns on Castle Heights had opened up. Anford’s home had fifty cannons.
A few of the men had already jumped overboard to avoid the flames. Others were blown over the side when the fusillade hit the Imperial ship.
Longboats were launching from the docks and two of the ships. Stoneblue was treading water by the rudder, and could see them clearly. He swam to the shore on the starboard side, and saw that six others had made it to land before him. Stoneblue turned and watched the men in the boats.
They made long, practiced casts with grappling hooks and caught the Mermaid. The lines were made fast to the boats, and together they pulled her around to tow her out. Stoneblue was grudgingly respectful of the discipline and competence with which they performed. The fire on board was raging now.
The hulk was towed just out of the inlet and the boats released their lines. The Mermaid drifted north, away from the inlet and the fishing village. The boats were all back in the inlet when the magazine blew. For the fourth time that day, the Tayan sailors were thrown from their feet. One of the boats was swamped by the shockwave and windows were shattered all over town.
Pirates in the other boats rescued their fellows with good-natured cat-calls, but two boats were now making for the little spit occupied by the surviving Tayans. Six men and one officer, out of a crew of three hundred thirty-eight. We cannot fight them all. Still…
“Look sharp men! Remember that you represent the Empire.”
“Vall the Empire,” said one of the pressedmen. “They’ll kill us all in a few minutes.” He sat down defiantly.
The other five stood up and formed a line behind the midshipman. The boats beached, and twenty pirates stepped ashore.
“Welcome to Port Buxaca,” said one.
“Port Buxaca? We thought this was Rumtown.”
“That stuthole?” The man seemed surprised. “No, you’re about ten day’s sail to the north of Rumtown. You can smell it for miles.”
Stoneblue nodded wearily. “I’m Midshipman Stoneblue of the Imperial Navy. To whom am I surrendering the crew of the Mermaid?”
“Why, no one. I’m Karof, First Mate of the Felicity. We’re the Burners.”
“If we’re not surrendering to—” Stoneblue shook his head. “What’s to become of us? Are you planning to execute us?”
“Not exactly. We don’t keep slaves here, too many of us used to be slaves, and there’s no prison neither. We could maroon youse and let the savages take your heads, but youse know where Port Buxaca is, so we can’t take the chance. I had an idea that’s more honorable—combat.”
“Like the gladiator pits in Buxa?” Stoneblue was scornful. “Where’s the honor in that? Besides, we are unarmed.”
Seven cutlasses were tossed at Stoneblue’s feet.
“Not like the pits. Here, now, and out of sight of the people in town. One on one, one man at a time. We could just kill youse where you stand, but my way, youse get to fight back.”
Stoneblue nodded grimly.”Well, I’d rather die with steel in my hand, if you want the truth of it.”
Karof smiled. “Alright then. Who’s first?”
It was over very quickly. The sailor that sat down refused to defend himself, and was shot. It would be years before the Imperial Navy learned what had happened to Captain Sweetwood and the Mermaid.
40
Thirty-One Miles Due West
Of Vorr Eno
Bostol had taken the Thirteen Twists south. He planned to cruise between the Ingos and Gateway. Sako Pizi had sailed for the southern end of the Chains, with the thought to capture a Sevulian.
Olik Stansek had a different idea. He didn’t know where Brock had taken the Star of Sipa, his sister ship, but he had an idea that he was down by Talioch. It didn’t really matter; the Burners on Felicity wanted to go into the Chains, so that’s where Olik went.
The plan was to take a spicerunner and sell her cargo way down in Encaster, maybe find their Brothers. Whether or not they found the other Burner ship, they were off to Alarfaj after that. The Burners wanted a magnificent xebec like the Smilers had scored.
The Burners were on good terms with the natives of the last large island in the western side of the Kimbulan Archipelago, and stopped briefly there. The savages were pleased to see them, as Felicity hadn’t visited in several months.
They held a feast to mark the occasion. There was an exchange of gifts: a few steel knives and axes, two bags of glass beads, and some bolts of orange cloth were exchanged for a chest full of pearlescent seashells (worth a half Tayan Crown apiece in Port Buxaca), fresh fruit, and the right to top off their water barrels.
Newly supplied, Felicity sailed on to Vorr Eno. There they found an agent who sold them information on a Sevulian spicerunner leaving in two days. They took the Sevulians without a fight and were looting her when a sail was seen to the east. Stansek had a bad feeling that it was naval. The Burners returned to their own ship and headed west. There was a little cluster of coral heads that would do real damage to an unwary ship.
Unfortunately for the Burners, the sail behind them was not a war ship. But the one that rounded the little island two miles in front of them was, and they had neglected to lower their red flag. The ship closing on them was the Imperial Navy Frigate Mist, and her guns were out.
Stansek tried to come about, but was only halfway through his turn when the Mist came in range. A well-placed salvo of chain hamstrung the Felicity. The Burners returned fire, and they exchanged gunnery until the frigate had closed to board. Captain Red had more than enough men to keep his guns going until he led a boarding party over.
The sailors of enterprise fought fiercely, but in the end Felicity was taken. Stansek and sixty-three of his men were captured.
The little spicerunner arrived soon after, having witnessed the battle. They wanted their cargo back. Red grudgingly allowed it. The Burners were forced to do the labor, then chained in their own hold. A prize crew was put on the Felicity, and both ships set sail to the south.
Red was inordinately pleased with himself. That smug half yellow-head bastard, with his three ships and two hundred pirates taken. None of them were the equal of Olik Stansek. Felicity is bigger than any two of his prizes combined, and I’ve taken down a crew of one-twenty! I’ll see this lot hanged, collect my prize money, and return to Tevon to present my findings to Captain Sweetwood. My findings…
“Have the pirate Stansek sent to my cabin,” Red ordered.
I’ll kn
ow where Rumtown is before Stom does. I may have been born a commoner, but I’m better than any yellow-head, no matter who his father was!
It took a while, for the pirate captain had to be rowed over from his own ship, but eventually the man was thrown to the deck at Red’s feet. The Imperial Navy captain looked down his nose at his captive.
Olik Stansek was a fat man, with sweaty black hair and a week’s worth of stubble. His red complexion and watery eyes told a tale of a man who drank too much. But his arms were thick with muscle and crisscrossed with scars, and there was another scar on his neck that said he was not easy to kill.
“Where is your home base, pirate?” Red demanded. He wouldn’t dignify this piece of stut with the title of ‘captain’.
Bloodshot eyes stared back at him defiantly. “About two hundred yards aft,” he growled in a voice made raw by rum.
Red nodded to one of the brawny sailors that had brought the pirate in. That sailor hauled Stansek bodily to his feet and hit him hard enough to knock him back down. Blood trickled from his mouth.
“Where were you planning to sell the spice you’d stolen?”
Stansek saw no reason to keep that a secret. “Encaster.”
“They welcome your kind there?”
“They don’t ask where I get my cargo.”
“So Maraugh is your home port.”
“I don’t have a home port.”
Again Red nodded and Stansek was yanked to his feet and punched low in the ribs. His breath whooshed out painfully, but the man stayed on his feet this time. He glared pure hatred at Red.
“Some secret island in the Chains, or is it south of Kimbula?”
“I told you, my home is the Felicity. Don’t you hit me again!” This last was directed at the sailor next to him. He wasn’t pleading—he was angry.
“Perhaps we should start hanging your men now. Maybe that will loosen your tongue.”
But Stansek just sneered at him. “Go ahead. Hang now, hang in Gateway; it’s all the same to me.”
“This is becoming tiresome. Show him what happens to those who defy the Empire.”
The two burly hands closed in, but this time Stansek was ready for them. He seized the one to his right and shoulder threw him into the other sailor. They both went down and Stansek lunged for Red. The angry pirate had the Imperial by the neck with one hand and had hit him four times before the other two regained control.
Red climbed to his feet and spat out a tooth. Blood streamed from his nose and mouth onto his immaculate uniform shirt and coat. He wanted to kill the sea-scum now, but he still didn’t have the information he needed.
“Tie him to the grate.” Red pulled out a handkerchief to staunch his nose. “A few lashes seem to be in order. I’ll be out shortly.” The sailor of enterprise was dragged out and Red dug through his wardrobe for a fresh shirt and coat.
Stansek’s shirt had been ripped down, revealing a slave tattoo on his arm and a back already well marked with whip scars. Red nodded at his man with the cat. Stansek took the first fifteen lashes without crying out, but after that he screamed like any normal man.
At twenty-five lashes, Red stopped the punishment. His eye was rapidly turning black and he still held the bloody handkerchief to his broken tooth.
“Stansek, you are a pirate. For that, you will hang. But you don’t have to suffer from the cat anymore if you just tell me where Rumtown is.”
Even in the extremity of his pain, Stansek was thinking furiously. He put on a dismayed expression. Let him catch me in a lie so he believes the next lie. Then I’ll fold and lie some more. “Rumtown? Never…heard…of it.”
“One lash.”
Crack. Stansek screamed.
“Where, sea-scum?”
Stansek screamed that he didn’t know. After two more lashes, he told Red that Rumtown was four weeks sail southwest of Bilitown. He was not prepared for Red’s reaction.
“I don’t believe you.” Crack. “I think it’s nearby.” Crack. “Here in the Chains.” Crack. “Would you like to change your answer?”
“Check…my ship…Rumtown…near…have more…provis…ions.”
Red glanced at the officer he’d put in charge of the prize crew. That man indicated that there wasn’t very much food left on the Felicity.
“Cut him down and take him to my cabin. If you can’t provide accurate coordinates, I’ll have you brought back to the grate.”
The Imperial charts weren’t nearly as accurate as the Burners’ late navigator’s, but those had been tossed over the side in a weighted bag when capture became inevitable. Stansek had spent a lot of time learning those charts over the years. He found Kimbula, made some measurements after checking the scale and made a mark.
“There’s nothing there,” said Red. “Take him back up.”
The same two sailors seized Stansek by the arms.
“Wait, wait! There’s fifty islands between Kimbula and Agresia! Just cause you don’t know they’re there doesn’t mean they ain’t!”
“Stop, men. Describe this place to me.”
“Rumtown is on a long island runs east and west with a flattened mountain on the west end. There’s a cove round about to the south-southeast side, and that’s where Rumtown is.”
“How will I know it’s the right island?”
“You’ll pass three little islands in a row, all within sight of each other. Then there’s reefs to the south and no more islands east. And there’s a lot of smoke, more than there is on any of the savage islands.”
“You’d best not be lying to me.”
“Why would I lie?” Stansek asked wearily.
“To protect your friends.”
The sailor of enterprise allowed himself to slump between the men holding him. “You killed most of my friends. The rest are in chains.” He smiled sadly. “We had a good run, though.”
“Silence. I have no further interest in questioning this fellow. Take him back to his ship, and chain him up with the rest of the miscreants.”
“Yeah yeah, sir.”
They hoisted the fat man up and dragged him toward the door.
“And men.” The small group halted. “See that his back gets well rinsed with salt water.”
“Yeah yeah, sir.”
41
Three Prizes
The Smilers were finally ready to put out to sea, except for one final detail. Three of the men were not aboard. All of the new men were aboard, though there weren’t as many of them as Sako had hoped for.
Tesser Nive and Bist Copton had joined soon after the Spicerunner’s arrival nearly two months ago, but everyone else had waited until the Smilers began preparing the ship for a cruise. Why let your name be added to a duty schedule (if the Crew you were joining even used one) for weeks or even months without any possibility of making money? Better to keep working at what one had been until the last week or so. Even so, there had only been one or two new recruits per day for the week.
Sako had asked StrongArm about it and had been told not to worry.
“Only the most desperate will join youse right now—guys what don’t feel they fit in with another Crew, and sea virgins. And the younger brothers and cousins of guys you already got,” the big man said.
“Here’s what you do. Make this a short cruise, say three months or so. Crews will come back that weren’t here when youse came in, and then you come back. Word’ll spread that you’ve done well for two cruises in a row, then you’ll get more men.”
As of now they had thirteen new hands. Afnir was not going back out, and Tramen Bora had lost a duel with a Bloody Fist just two days before the Mermaid had arrived. Thus the net gain, as Ellor put it, was only eleven. Of those, only two had come to Port Buxaca as adults.
Xo Hav Sleepy Cat and Qi Red Desert were probably the only Stits still sailing on the Buxacan Sea. They had been out of the country when their king had declared the ports and borders closed, and so were not allowed to return.
Xo Hav had once saved Qi’s life.
By their customs, a sort of chivalric code that Sako didn’t really understand, Xo Hav now owned that life. Qi wasn’t a slave, however. It was sort of like the Brotherhood Oath they had all sworn when they formed or joined a Crew, but on a more personal level. Thus when Xo Hav had signed aboard a Kimbulan runner a year ago, Qi had as well. Now both were outlaws in Stitia. “If we are to be criminals, friend Sako, then we shall become wealthy ones.” Qi had wordlessly agreed.
Both had revised their cultural opinion that those with round eyes that came from the lands far from Stitia were not really people. They had spent too long in the company of such. Besides, criminals were also ‘not people’.
It had been an eventful two months ashore. Perndil Yellow had set up a shop high on Knife Street, near Castle Heights. He’d made good on his promise to the Smilers who’d saved him.
The boots were supremely comfortable, and made to last. The sandfish skin wouldn’t slip on even the slickest wet wood. The senior hands were so vociferous in their praises that many of the newer hands had ordered a pair for themselves.
Perndil had also gifted the Captain with a fine pair of tooled shoes that had engraved silver buckles. Anford loved them.
Now the cobbler had so much business, he’d taken on a pair of apprentices. One of them was Kostek’s younger brother. Even with the additional help, the waiting list for new shoes had stretched to three weeks.
Afnir and Betta had wed, with both families and all of the Smilers present. The ceremony had been held in the Smilers’ new Ashore House. It was a large, rambling structure on Rum Street that had once belonged to a Crew that had met a violent end some five years past. It had been the last unoccupied building in town.
Next door was a small cottage owned by an old widow. Sako had bought it on behalf of the Crew for Afnir and his bride, and had hired the old woman as a live in servant for the Smiler Mansion. She took one of the small rooms for herself and declared the kitchen to be her domain.
Buxacan Spicerunner Page 27