“My Sulmir, I fear the worst.” Scipio never glossed over an ugly painting. “I fear that Number Five Son underestimated the duplicity of these white barbarians, these Agresians. My Sulmir, I believe that the Agresians were not willing to pay for the arms Number Five was to sell them and took the weapons and the ship as well. There has been no word. Surely, My Sulmir, these barbarians would have sent terms if Number Five still lived.”
“Do you believe the barbarians could handle the Pride and the weapons without assistance and instruction from us?”
Scipio smiled disarmingly. “If there’s one thing barbarians understand, My Sulmir, it is weaponry. And while they may lag far behind us culturally and in knowledge, they are our masters when it comes to seafaring matters. It was they who found us, My Sulmir.”
Golden eyes grew thoughtful. “Yes, that is true. D’vin’s design is superior to any of their ships we’ve seen, but they may not have needed their best to travel this far north.”
“Indeed, My Sulmir. Ekrat sees more white men every year. I have heard of large warships with a deck below the top one that holds nothing but more guns. Great wealth is made from the goods these whites bring; it only stands to reason that they make great profits from the things they purchase in Ekrat.
“It is my belief, My Sulmir, that we must assess the threat of the southerners and their naval power as we discover the fate of Number Five.” Scipio took a breath. What he was about to suggest might not please the Sulmir. “The Sulmir has read the history of Buxa, the explorer Pen Vishen left us? A great empire was destroyed by barbarian uprisings.”
The Sulmir scowled in response, but it was a thoughtful expression rather than an angry one. “It would be fatally arrogant to believe that such could not happen to Alarfaj,” He agreed.
Scipio let out his breath, relieved that the Sulmir saw what he had. “Precisely, My Sulmir. This Astreg of Taya that the Agresians were fighting might be ambitious enough to try and send an invasionary fleet. They would be crushed after landing, to be sure, but at what cost, My Sulmir?”
“Taya is a later issue. First I want these Agresians chastised, unless they can prove they had nothing to do with Number Five’s disappearance. So shall it be done. How many ships will you send, Minister Scipio?”
“There is an expeditionary force of five ships making ready as we speak. None of them are as grand as the Pride, but Admiral Arficus feels they should be sufficient.”
“Advise Arficus that in addition to learning what happened to Number Five My Son, he is to assess the strength of the Tayans, the Agresians, and that other place ruled by a queen…”
“Jonos, My Sulmir.”
“Thank you. Jonos…these are the last heirs of Buxa, perhaps they are more civilized than the others? They could be useful as allies or tools to counter the strength of the others.”
“I shall make Arficus aware of the Sulmir’s desire.”
“Also, it is time we expanded and strengthened our colonies in Clavland to generate more wealth. A war with these Buxans, whether pre-emptive or of conquest, will strain Our treasury. Make it known to the poorest that there are opportunities for settlement in the colonies, and in service to Alarfaj. Order a fleet of one hundred ships built. Twenty are to be of the same scale as the Pride of Saleet.”
“I shall begin immediately, My Sulmir.”
“Thank you, Scipio.” The Sulmir showed a rare smile. “You are Our most valuable servant. Accomplish these things in two years and your reward shall be great.”
Scipio was proud to be acknowledged as useful to Alarfaj. “My Sulmir, it shall be as you say.” He bowed once to each member of the Family and departed.
45
The Aritona
The information Osi had given them had the Tern en route from Braden in a little over six weeks. That gave the Smilers time to go home for a few days. Those who’d been watching the Jono ladies were anxious to get home to sweethearts or the Row. Sako and Dason were anxious to gain new recruits. By now the story of Stafa and their last haul had reached everyone who called in Port Buxaca.
It was pure luck that they found an Agresian runner between the Ingos and Port Buxaca. At first they thought the sail was Kimbulan. The Kimbulans often used this route for trade with Jonos, but Agresians who called in Dalarville or Bilitown usually went back east before turning south for the continent.
As they closed, the Smilers were able to determine that the ship was a Vakgen built fluyt flying Agresian colors.
“Agresians sailing in a Vakgennir runner?” Tirpa said. “Not often you’re seeing that combination. They’re being Rumtowners, maybe.”
“Combination is about as common as finding Kimbulans who own an Alarfaji xebec,” Dason agreed.
Sako opened his new Viste and took a look. The fluyt was heavy and didn’t appear to have many men. There could be more below if she were from Rumtown…No. They’ve seen us and are altering course away. “The Aritona. Let’s take her. Run up the Bloody Smile and run out the guns. Collision course, Goggen.”
“Yeah yeah.” It was clear almost immediately that the Aritona could not run, and she stood to.
“Valling chickenstuts!” Stutmouth complained. “I wanted to valling kill someone!”
“Put your cutlass away and you can pick one to hit,” said Dason. “You can be one of the first over. I’ll bet you a flame you can’t make him bleed on the first punch.”
“Stut Dason, what kinda limp-stap you think I am? I’ll take your Ster-damned money—you watch!” Stutmouth put away his sword and cracked his knuckles. Goggen conned the xebec right up to the fluyt skillfully and the Smilers tied on.
“Me and Stutmouth are going over first,” said Sako. “I’ll introduce myself, then we’ll see if Dason will lose a flame. Whether Stutmouth wins or loses, that’s the signal for the boarding party. I want Brog, Olik, Big Lunch, Ieskott, and the rest of you giants to the fore. Let’s see if we can get a few to stut themselves.”
With that, Sako jumped lightly over the rail. The Aritona’s deck was a few feet lower than the Spicerunner’s. A light thump to his left told him that Stutmouth was with him.
“I’m Sako Pizi,” he said conversationally. “Your cargo and coin now belong to me.”
Stutmouth stepped forward and swung at the tallest man in the front rank. There was a ‘pop’ and the man’s nose seemed to explode with blood. The hapless sailor was driven to his knees, and his shipmates stared in horror. The boarding party let out a yell and climbed or jumped down, brandishing weapons.
“Disarm, and no one else will be hurt,” Sako said in that same mild tone.
The Agresians complied in a hurry.
Sako nodded in satisfaction. “Captain, I’ll see your manifest and log in your cabin, if you please. Tesser, Sharkbite, you’re with me.” The four headed aft.
“Kostek, pick five men and search the forecastle,” Dason said. “Clenchjaw, take five more down the main hold. Jat and Sev, check out that deck load.” He turned back to the Spicerunner and saw that most of those who’d been left behind were watching. “Who’s that at the masthead?”
“I, Qi Red Desert.”
“Keep a sharp lookout! We don’t want any interruptions.”
“As you say, friend Dason.”
The Agresians were coming from Mok with a solid cargo of trade goods, including porcelain dinnerware, mother of pearl, and bales of silk. The deck load was teak lumber. In addition, they had twenty-two thousand five hundred flames—the profits from the first leg of their voyage. Sako kindly left them enough provisions to get home, and set them free.
The Smilers went home and divided up the haul. It had been an excellent cruise, with no casualties. The men scattered to spend their loot and brag. This time Sako had enough money to live as large as everyone else.
Danno and Safa were extremely pleased with their new Freshbox, and meals at the Arms were the talk of the town. The increase in custom made them forget how Sako had paid for it.
Stess Roundye
llow was also pleased to see them. She had turned the kitchen of the Smiler House into a near bakery, and was making money hand over fist. She had never realized how good her baking was until she’d been hired by them. The Crew, of course, would still get their baked goods at no cost.
“We should,” complained Ellor. “It’s our money that pays for everything she bakes anyway.”
Dason and Thard visited Afnir to find a changed man. Betta was pregnant, and the parents to be were very happy. Thard examined Betta, asked some questions, and determined that all was well with mother and child. She had six months to go.
Dason had brought a heavy bag of coin—Afnir’s share of the haul. That prompted questions on how it went, and Afnir was surprised to hear that no one had been lost.
“He even asked after you,” Dason told Sako later. “Betta’s been showing him how to make bowls and such on her potter’s wheel. She said that’s done more by feel than sight anyway. They’re going to use Afnir’s cut to open their own shop.”
“He’s getting pretty good at the wheel,” said Thard. “That sense of accomplishment is good for his spirits. He was feeling useless and helpless before he got married, and that’s not good. Now he’s to be a father, and he can make a living without us.”
Sako felt a little better about Afnir. “I wish he were still with us, but it is what it is.”
“He seems happy, Sako. At least as happy as he can be, given the loss.”
It had rained at dawn, and now it was that magical hour between the end of the rain and the return of the biting insects. Sako sat alone on the second floor balcony of the Arms, on the Rum Street side above the main entrance, drinking coffee. It was a few hours before noon, which made the town rather quiet. He finished his coffee and went to his ship.
There were only a few hands aboard, and none were awake. Sako noted muddy footprints, empty bottles, and stray articles of clothing strewn about the deck and sleeping areas. It wasn’t important. Everything would be clean and shipshape before they put out again to meet the Tern.
Sako went to the Dock Street Tavern next. He saw a few of his men there, but left them alone. Sturo was in a corner, already drinking like he meant it. Sako left him alone as well and ordered lunch.
Several Smilers were at the tables and dice pits in the Treasure Chest, there were more on Cathouse Row. Sako wandered uphill and found Ieskott, Kered Blue and Roffo at the Tradewinds. He passed an hour or two drinking with these men.
At the Sail on the Horizon, he found a mixed group of Gull Stut Island survivors, former Tama slaves and new men playing darts and eating fried plantains.
Near sunset, Sako passed by the Smiler House. Thard and Ellor were playing chess in the fading sunlight on the porch. They said there were probably a dozen inside enjoying an early dinner with Gomeneg. Rafeen Demana stopped him in the street to show off new boots he’d purchased from Perndil.
Sako met Dason, Brog, Clenchjaw and Sharkbite at the Arms for dinner. The young captain was pleased to see that his Crew had blended so seamlessly. He’d been listening to conversations all over town—the Smilers were doing well, spending and bragging accordingly. Sako’s reputation was made. His dinner companions had heard much of the same. Six men from other Crews had approached Dason about a berth.
“We need to leave tomorrow if we’re to intercept the Tern,” Sako said. “Do youse think we should use this Count Baggich in Rumtown?”
“I talked to Ellor about it this afternoon,” said Dason. “The last four hauls other than ours contained a lot of spice, so the market here is saturated.” He paused to light a cigar. “Rumtown, on the other hand, rarely gets saturated in anything.”
“Except stench,” said Clenchjaw.
“If this Baggich character has the gold we’ll do better there than here, is what you’re saying,” said Sharkbite. “Why not do really well and sell it in Encaster or Mitter?”
“We’re starting to get known,” said Sako. “We’d have to sail past either the Empire or the Republic, and there’s too much risk.”
“Yeah, there aren’t very many xebecs in the Buxacan Sea,” Dason said. “Baggich will be less risky.”
“Stinks, but safe. Quick.”
“Alright then, it’s settled. We’ll take this haul to Rumtown, then come home to spend it.” Sako frowned. “The only thing I can’t put my finger on is, where have we heard that name before?”
46
Aboard the Flatfish
“He’s still there,” the First Mate said, when Captain Blue came up on deck. “It’s strange; if he were chasing us, he should have closed by now.”
“I agree,” said Blue. “I think he’s just following us, for now.”
“That means no delivery and no fresh provisions in Port Buxaca.”
“No. They wouldn’t be pleased if we led a Tayan man of war straight to them. Start rationing as of the next meal. We’ll have enough to make Bilitown if we tighten our belts a little.”
“Yeah yeah, sir.”
Flatfish altered course slightly to the east, subtly guiding their Tayan shadow away from the secret port. Blue’s cargo was completely legitimate, but some of it was meant for Port Buxaca, regardless of what was stated in the manifest. There was no evidence this trip that Blue was a smuggler, but he was getting nervous. The only reason the Tayan would be following was suspicion of piracy or smuggling.
Flatfish passed to the west of a small island and turned northeast. They were nine days out of Bilitown, and it was a straight run from here. The Tayan had closed enough that Blue could see she was a frigate, easily capable of catching him if they wanted to. The next morning the Tayan finally made a move into signal range.
Blue was roused at dawn and came out into a chilly drizzle to read, ‘INF Dolphin. I-Y. where from where bound what cargo?’
Ster Sine had his own glass and read the signal at the same time. “Dolphin—weren’t they the ones trying to press Nive and his friends?”
“Yes,” Blue replied. “They bear us no love, I’m afraid. I knew it was time to buy a new ship! Send a reply, please.”
‘ Flatfish of Dalarville. 10 weeks out Maraugh bound Bilitown. Textiles wine carpet cold-weather fruit.’
‘Stand to. Prepare for boarding and inspection.’
“Who in Ster’s name does he think he is?” Blue asked hotly.
‘No jurisdiction not in Tayan waters.’
The Dolphin ran out her guns and put on sail.
‘Jurisdiction everywhere. Stand to or be fired on.’
Blue sighed heavily. “Point her head up and take in all sail. We can’t outrun him, and if there’s so much as a single hole in his sails, he’ll claim we attacked him and we’ll all be hanged for pirates.”
“I wasn’t going to suggest fighting them,” said Sine. “The cargo is legal and we’re just law abiding merchants who are outraged at being held up by an illegal boarding and inspection.”
“Damn right I’m outraged.”
They watched as the war ship came to with a broadside aimed at them, and lowered a boat. Outrage became unease when Blue recognized the lieutenant in charge of the boarding party.
Sine stirred and lifted his glass again. “Isn’t that—”
“It is. Stess help us; he’ll seize the ship on any pretext. Toss over a ladder.”
The older officer came up, followed by four Imperial sailors. He hadn’t asked permission to board, but Blue hadn’t expected him to. Arrogant little valler.
“I suppose congratulations are in order for the promotion,” Blue greeted his unwanted guest.
“A little more polite this time, aren’t we, Captain Blue?”
“I was polite last time we met, when you were illegally trying to press one of my seamen. Now you’ve illegally detained and boarded my ship on the high seas, which qualifies as piracy under international maritime law.”
The lieutenant’s smile had faded and he clapped his hand to his sword. Slowly he relaxed. It wouldn’t do to allow the Kimbulan to goad him
into a foolish act in front of his men. Again.
“Well I’m not here to press one of your men, sir. I’m here to arrest all of your men and you, and seize the Flatfish.”
“On what grounds? I have legitimate cargo with registered buyers in Bilitown! Some of the cargo was bought on spec, but I have papers for every item aboard!”
“Oh? I say they’re forgeries, those papers. You sir, are a smuggler and you’ll hang as such after trial in Gateway.”
Blue snorted. “There’s to be a trial? What’s the point? If my ship can be seized for the ‘crime’ of purchasing goods nowhere near the Empire and delivering said goods to another point that is also nowhere near the Empire, then you are setting a dangerous precedent. I can think of one other ship that takes cargo on the high seas and hangs the crew.”
The lieutenant didn’t even notice the comparison to the Hangmen. He’d been confused by something else Blue had said. “What precedent?”
“Take me to your captain, Lieutenant. I want him to explain how this can be anything other than an act of piracy.”
Half an hour later, Blue stood in front of Captain Barsi’s desk on the Dolphin.
“Your cargo may be legitimate this time, sir,” Barsi said, “but it is believed that you do much of your trade with stolen goods; goods obtained through piracy. My seizure of your ship is therefore law enforcement.”
“Believed.” Blue shook his head in amazement. “I could accept a board and search eleven miles north of Gateway, but even in Imperial waters, there must be evidence of wrongdoing. We are far from the Empire and there’s no evidence! My cargo is fully documented and can be traced to sellers in Maraugh. Encaster, not the Empire. And there are registered buyers for much of it in Bilitown! Kimbula, not the Empire. I de—”
“Buyers for much of it you say. What about the rest?”
“The rest doesn’t matter, as long as I purchased it legally, which I have! I bought it on spec. I know what sells in Kimbula; I’ve been trading there for two decades! I demand the immediate release of my ship!”
Buxacan Spicerunner Page 31