“You are not in a position to demand anything, Captain Blue. This is war, and I have both the right and the duty to detain you on suspicion alone until your claims are proven.”
“War?” Blue was flabbergasted. “What war? Your war with Agresia ended months ago! Even if it were ongoing, I have no goods from there, nor have I stopped in any Agresian ports on this voyage; as my log clearly indicates! And then, I’m Kimbulan, recognized by all as a neutral!”
Barsi was not impressed. “It is a war on piracy, sir, which includes those who buy the stolen merchandise and smuggle it.” Barsi leaned forward and steepled his fingers. “There is one way you can help yourself. If you were to tell me where Rumtown is, I could see my way to granting you a pardon.”
“How could I possibly know that?” Blue saw the trap but couldn’t avoid it. “I’d have to have been there.”
“Precisely. I think you have.”
“That you think it doesn’t make it so. What would you have me do, Captain Barsi? I’m falsely accused, but I can be pardoned if I give you information I don’t have?”
“I think you do have it.”
“Again, that you think it doesn’t make it so.” Blue changed tack. “I could lie, I suppose. I could point to your chart and say, ‘here, on this island’. Then you go there and find a sandbar with one tree or a camp of savages. Then you’d accuse me of misleading you, when I’d only told you what you wanted to hear, because you refuse to believe the truth!”
“So it’s on an island is it? I thought you knew nothing of it.”
“STER AND STESS! Of course it’s on an island; where else?” Blue reigned in his temper and continued with the exaggerated patience he usually reserved for disciplining his young daughters. “Obviously you thought so, else you wouldn’t be cruising this area, would you? It’s not on the continent. It’s not in Jonos. It’s not in Kimbula. That leaves the Chains, which the Jonos have thoroughly mapped and patrol regularly, or one of these islands.”
“So you are claiming not to know where Rumtown is?”
“I’m not claiming anything. I’m stating. If I were smuggling I wouldn’t need so many guns on my Flatfish, would I? Do you know how much more cargo I could run with even four less cannon?”
“I have no more time for this, Captain Blue.” Barsi glanced at his guards. “Take him below and fit him with chains.” They stepped forward as one and took hold of Blue. “If you decide sometime between here and Gateway that you suddenly remember where Rumtown is, your captivity will end. Otherwise you will face trial in Gateway.”
“Will I be provided with legal counsel at this ‘trial’?”
“If you can afford it.”
47
Aboard the Spicerunner
Sako put them on station two days early, and a sail was spotted almost immediately. Unfortunately it was closing from the wrong direction. Sako and Dason stood together on the helmdeck, spying the stranger with their glasses. She was three-masted and square-rigged.
Sako thought she rode a little too heavy. “What do you make of her?”
“A little small for a ship of the line, not a frigate,” said Dason, “And too well-armed for a merchant runner. But she’s got Tayan colors flying—I’m thinking a privateer.”
“Maybe a pirate under false colors,” Ieskott said from the wheel.
“That won’t be a problem once he’s close enough to signal,” said Dason.
“I don’t think it’ll be a problem regardless,” said Sako. “We’ve got him outgunned and I think we can outsail him as well. Even if he’s got more men, we can solve that with either of the first two. Rig a drogue, break out the rest of the sail, and put almost everyone below. We’ll see how this plays out.”
The ships were soon in signal range. The stranger sent the first signal.
‘I-Y. Stand to and prepare for boarding and inspection.’
“Doesn’t waste time, does he?” said Dason. “Still flying Tayan colors.”
“Definitely a privateer. He won’t have any loot worth taking. Run up Kimbulan colors, let’s see if he’ll attack.”
‘ Spicerunner of Bilitown. Perishable fruit cargo, no delays. I-Y.’
‘ Ghost of Taya, privateer. Repeat.’
“Cut the drogue.” Sako checked the wind, sails, sky and sea. “Think the wind’s freshening?”
Dason nodded. “What are you thinking?”
Sako smiled. “I think we can sail a full circle around the Ghost. See how heavy she is? She’s full of water.”
Ieskott was shocked. “You want to round him?”
Sako and Dason smiled in response. “Staying out of gun range, of course,” said Sako.
“Oh, of course,” said Dason. “I imagine the Crew would like to watch this. Would you like the Bloody Smile flying as well, Captain Sarcastic?”
“No, the Kimbulan flag will be sufficient.”
The Spicerunner seemed to leap forward as the drogue was cut. Dason called the men up and told them what was going on. Those not on duty lined the rail to watch.
Ghost ’s guns were out and she was turning for a broadside. Spicerunner outpaced her and crossed the privateer’s bow just in gun range. Dason ran up a signal without bothering to ask.
‘Boom.’
Sako turned and sped past Ghost on the opposite heading, as the privateers tried to keep up with the turn. The Tayan knew he was just out of range and held his fire. Sako made a short tack away from Ghost, and initiated the long tack that would take him across the ship’s stern, within hailing distance.
Pyer had caught on, and realized that he was about to take a raking barrage from point blank range on his stern, and desperately tried to reverse his turn. If he could manage it, they would trade broadsides at that range instead.
The privateer was too slow. Both stern chasers flashed, but they missed. The thunder came just a few seconds later.
“When our main crosses his stern, everyone shout, ‘boom’!” Dason ordered.
“BOOM!” The effect was not ruined at all when the Smilers burst into laughter. Olik waved a pineapple at Ghost. “WOULD YOUSE LIKE SOME FRUIT?”
The privateers answered with curses and obscene gestures. Sako maintained his course until he judged they were out of gun range, then turned and paralleled Ghost’s course. They were past in less than a minute. What’s the closest major port? I know—The Ingos are less than two weeks away to the west. Sako couldn’t resist a final taunt. “Send them a signal.”
‘Bound east for Ingos. Arrive before you sailing west.’
Pyer watched as the xebec faded from sight. There was dead silence from his crew. He had me dead to rights, and didn’t even run out his guns. Stut, they didn’t even man their guns. I might as well have had both anchors out.
Only six hours ago the Ghost had scraped an uncharted reef. Well, now it’s charted. There was almost five feet of water in the hold. “Find us an island with a good beach and no savages. Let’s make repairs before we’re swimming to Tevon.”
“Chart shows one thirty miles south, Captain Stom.”
“Let’s go then.”
The Smilers returned to their station the next day. They spotted another sail, this one coming from the north. They closed enough to determine that it was the Tern and ran up the Bloody Smile. The response was a barrage of round shot. The Tern was not going to cooperate.
Sako returned fire and slipped aft of Tern. He did not want to get in an extended gun battle with the Tayans. Clenchjaw took over one of the bow chasers personally, and took out their target’s entire helm. The Smilers fouled the runner and boarded.
There were forty men aboard, and they fought until half their number had been dropped. Sako lost three, and six of his men were injured, but the haul was every bit as rich as Osi had promised. They were looting happily when they heard the one call they never wanted to while fouled with a prize.
“Deck! Sail, starboard beam and closing!”
“Back to the Spicerunner!” Dason shouted. “We�
��ve got company.”
“Tirpa, get us unfouled, please.” That was Sako, in an unruffled tone.
“You’re hearing him, boys! Ieskott, getting some line to replace what we’re needing to cut away! Aler! Not cutting there! Cutting here! Minimal damage…” Tirpa had it under control and Sako climbed up to his helmdeck.
“Deck! It’s a frigate under full sail! Tayan colors!”
“Thank you, Afcay,” Sako said. “I suspect this one will be faster than Ghost.”
“An island is faster than Ghost,” Dason said. “Until he fixes his hull, anyway.”
Sev was on the wheel. “So we’re not going to round him?”
“Very funny,” said Sako. “Let’s take him seriously, especially as he has the wind.” The Spicerunner was free and wind filled her sails.
Sako tried running for a bit, but it quickly became apparent that that was not the solution. He turned south and put the wind on his beam. The best plan he could come up with under the circumstances was to let the frigate come in close and try to dart past upwind. The problem being, “How many broadsides will we take as we’re trying it?”
“Yeah,” said Dason. “We can pull away into the wind, but not quickly. Every short tack will put us in gun range, and the long tacks won’t take us very far out of it.”
“Chain,” Clenchjaw said.
“I’ll bet he’s already loaded with chain,” said Sako. “If we lose even a little bit of sail, our turning advantage goes away. Without that, he’ll close and board in short order.”
“So it’s inevitable?” Jat didn’t look worried. “That he will board us?”
“Unless we can disable or sink him, yes.”
“No reefs around,” Dason said. “There’s probably not any reliable monsters down there either. Weather looks steady, so it’s going to be a fight—probably over two hundred men over there, all hungry for a reward.”
“How about a mixed load then?” said Jat. “Every other gun with chain and the rest with grape.”
“That’s good, Jat,” said Dason. “Some of his sail gone and he loses his speed advantage. Level odds again, and maybe cut his numbers some, as well.”
Sev didn’t like it. “A broadside is most effective when it’s all the same ammunition. Load one side with shot, the other with grape. First salvo from the shot side—he’s got more guns so we try and knock some down. Definitely get some gunners. Second salvo from the grape side—take out some deck crew. Maybe elevate a gun or two and knock down some guys aloft with that one.”
Everyone approved of that plan.
“Sev, I’m gonna start including you in all my planning sessions.”
The frigate closed into signal range. Her guns were out.
‘INF Speed. No ¼’
Sako put up the Bloody Smile and acknowledged. “Try and keep our beam at his bow, Sev. I want the first shot.”
“Yeah yeah.”
Clenchjaw took command of the port battery and loaded with shot, as the Speed was on that side. Jat loaded the starboard with grape and waited. Clenchjaw didn’t have as much time.
“She sure lives up to her name,” Dason said. The frigate swept up and began a turn toward the opposite heading from Sako’s.
Sako was relieved. His stern would be in danger briefly, but he was sure the Imperial had no idea how quickly Spicerunner could turn. Had the Speed turned to parallel him, he would have faced a full broadside while making his turn—probably two broadsides. The other captain wanted to hamstring him and board.
Clenchjaw fired. Only the center guns hit, but it was a raking barrage. Casualties would be high on the Imperial gun deck.
Sako responded as soon as Clenchjaw had fired. “Hard to port!”
Sev spun the wheel and the booms swung. If they were fast enough, Sako would get a shot with his other side before Speed could complete her own turn. The frigate’s bow chasers flashed. Sako saw a few of his men fall, but kept his attention on his adversary.
Jat’s timing was as good a Clenchjaw’s had been. Speed was now close enough that the Smilers could hear the screams of the dying and wounded. Sako spun back starboard and tried to stay ahead of the frigate.
The Tayans weren’t ready to quit, and closed to within musket range. Marines began to fire and Sako was forced to duck.
The Smilers returned fire with their own muskets, but were unable to prevent the Imperials from grappling the stern. Three dozen sailors and marines came over, but were beaten back handily by the superior firepower of the Alarfaji pistols.
Smilers cut the lines and the Spicerunner pulled away briefly. Speed closed and grappled a second time—this time the boarding party was fifty men.
Again the Smilers were saved by the multiple firing pistols. Deadly arrow fire and the sheer ferocity of Sako, Ieskott and Olik, finished driving the Navy hands back. Dason saw something and acted immediately. “Sev, hard to starboard!”
The Spicerunner reacted violently, and actually shoved Speed’s bowsprit a few degrees over. “Now hard to port! Swing those booms, Dammit!” Men grabbed lines to obey, and suddenly they were in firing position just yards off the frigate’s bow.
Clenchjaw wasted no time. He had reloaded with grape and fired each gun as it bore. The results were satisfyingly devastating. Spicerunner began to pull away, and it looked like Speed was disinclined to continue.
“Should we pound them again?” Dason asked.
Sako shook his head. “We wanted them to stop the chase and they have. That’s all we needed.”
“Deck! Signal from Speed.” Sako looked up.
‘We will meet again, Pizi.’
“They know your name,” Dason said with wonder.
Sako just shrugged and sent his own signal.
‘Acknowledged’
48
Aboard the Sword’s Edge,
Jono City
Vit Valmed kissed his wife and left their house for the twenty-minute walk to the harbor. She had been pleased to see him, which wasn’t always the case. Valmed was a Talioch, and Jono women didn’t marry foreigners very often. There were too many differences in cultural expectations.
Now that they had a child, she felt that he should be home more often. Other than breastfeeding for the first year, it was usually a man’s job in Jonos to care for the little ones. Most sailors left the sea when the first child was born and didn’t return until the youngest was eight.
Valmed loved his wife, but he was no woman’s househusband. He was a captain in the Royal Navy, which demanded that his duties at home were minimal, but that didn’t keep the peace in her house. He would never have been commissioned if not for his wife’s influence.
Ersa may have gotten him the commission, but Vit’s own competence and good luck had gotten him promoted to his current standing. He’d distinguished himself in the last war, when the Tayan Empire was forced out of the Chains. When the Royal Navy finished building its newest frigate, he was hand-picked by the Queen herself to command it. Since then he’d made his name as a pirate hunter.
A month ago Captain Valmed had brought the pirate captain Din Orangerock to justice and removed the black wolf’s head flag from the seas forever. That made ten pirates, major and minor, that Valmed was personally responsible for destroying.
In addition to the glory and the obvious benefit to the commercial interests of the Kingdom, there were also substantial financial rewards, some of which even filtered down to his crew. Sailors throughout the Royal Navy clamored to serve aboard the Sword’s Edge, but those who did were usually pretty unhappy about it.
Of the three great powers in the Buxacan Sea, The Jonos had the most proficient and professional Navy, and the only one that never needed to resort to press gangs. There was little emphasis on large ships of the line. Instead, the Royal Navy floated more frigates than Taya and Agresia combined. Four of them were currently in Jono City, but the Sword’s Edge was going back out to sea.
Valmed usually had more autonomy than other captains in the Royal Nav
y, and cruised where he would, in search of pirate targets of opportunity. This time he had orders from the Lord High Admiral himself.
Valmed boarded the Edge without fanfare and called impatiently for his senior officers. He was not a handsome man. He wore a permanent scowl and had a thick moustache. He was missing too many teeth to make his smile pleasant. It didn’t matter as he didn’t smile very often. In addition, there were three parallel scars that ran from his nose to his right ear, which he’d received from a mountain cat in his youth.
Very few people survived such attacks, and as a result Valmed thought he was invulnerable. Three duels to the death and countless sea battles had not disproved his theory yet. When his officers were assembled, Valmed laid out three folders on his desk and started to speak without preamble.
“We have two years to rid the seas of these three pirates. Two have done the most damage to Jono shipping in the past five years, and the third has damaged our honor.” He opened the first file and turned it so his officers could see.
At the top of the page was a drawing of a black flag with a noose. “The Hangmen.” Valmed had already memorized the contents of the files. “Their ship is the Thirteen Twists—a three masted runner of four hundred tons with thirty guns. The captain is Tergil Bostol, a Tayan of about fifty years. Bostol has ninety-three men. He’s taken eighty-six ships, twenty-four of them ours. He’s also the longest-lived pirate. He started back when Anford was terrorizing the seas and has been doing it for nineteen years.”
“Haven’t we seen him before, Vit?” said Biness Valya, the First Lieutenant. Like Valmed, he was a foreigner, and the only man aboard who was comfortable serving under Valmed.
The captain’s answer removed the Vakgennir’s smile instantly. “He’s the one four months ago that we chased until sunset. He slipped to our aft in the dark and blasted our stern with chain.”
Valya winced. “Oh. I was thinking of two years ago, by Nesang.”
“That was him, too. Even without a mandate from the Lord High Admiral, Bostol has offended me more than once.” Valmed opened the second file.
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