by T B Phillips
“Then how do you propose we take it?”
“Through the back door that you discovered.”
Confusion overwhelmed the captain. Perhaps the head injury was affecting his memory, but everything felt strange and out of place since awakening on the beach. “I discovered no such entrance, General.”
“Quite the contrary, Frederique. You’ve provided us a way in.”
Major Smythe cleared his throat. “My men found you on this section of the beach.” He pointed to a spot on the map nearly two miles west of the city. “Given what we know about the current and from your story about falling into the sewer, my scouts found a hidden entrance here.”
“Unprotected?”
“Somehow the bars had been pulled away from the tunnel, ripped off with the strength of a Kraken, if you want to speculate.”
“Braston?”
Lourdes nodded. “That’s what we think. It’s probable that he and King Robert escaped through the same tunnel that spit you into the ocean. Given his affinity to water, it’s likely one of his sea creatures helped them pry the bars.”
“Surely the army’s posted guards at the entrance.”The major shook his head, “Not as far as we can tell. They seem pretty confident that Robert’s attack will come from the harbor and have committed the bulk of their occupying force there.”
Odd, Titus worried, that these men have so much confidence. They are set on a single plan without contingencies. General Reeves had taught his protégé better, but the captain had always assumed that Max had learned his caution from Lourdes. “When will we begin the attack?”
“Our men will slip into the city in groups of five until we have a force large enough to surprise the sentries on the wall. Then, they’ll open the gates and let us in as well.” The general and major shared a smile, “The entire operation should be over by midnight tonight!”
Chapter Forty
Malfeasance arrived shortly before sunrise and Braen marveled at the number of ships in the harbor. Dying light tugged at the riggings all around him, desperate to illuminate the rolled canvas tied on the many yardarms. Most of the ships were ghosts, their crews having already disembarked days before. Those who aided the egress from Eskera would soon join them in the brothels and taverns of The Cove. Braen Braston had pulled off the impossible, and, in only a matter of months, compiled an armada that rivaled that of the Esterling Empire.
The new arrivals led by Braston were the only activity in the harbor, starkly contrasting the bustling city alive atop the hill. He watched as Robert’s soldiers stared wide eyed at the pier and breathed the fresh air carrying tropical scents and robust sounds of joy and comradery, starkly contrasting the Estonian cities that reeked of oppression. These visitors, committed to war on foot and steed, had never dreamed that such a magnificent city like The Cove existed. The place of legend and intrigue loomed around them, changing their perspective on their own lives and freedom.
A child’s voice broke Braen away from musings and he turned his attention to the boy beside him. “Where’s She Wolf?”
The bearded captain scanned the ships a second time. As the boy had pointed out the distinct black ship was not among the others. “I don’t know, Sebastian. She should have arrived and had no reason to leave. Perhaps you could reach out to Caroline?”
The boy’s eyes turned sad and studied the decking. “I don’t want to go back there, Captain Braston.”
Remembering the lady Falconer chained in his hold he nodded, “I don’t blame you, Son, but you’ve got to conquer that and move on. Fear will destroy your ship if you try to head around it. Treat it like a storm and sail directly into the wave, keeping it under your bow until confidence assures that you’re safely over. If you allow fears to sail at your side, you invite a capsize instead of putting them astern.”
The boy nodded meekly. “I’ll try again tonight.”
“Good lad. Now, help Krill with that rigging. His hands aren’t what they used to be.” The Gunnery Sergeant inclined his head at mention of his name, then briefly held out two fists toward his skipper. Each had a gap where the middle finger had been ripped away during battle and Braen imagined the ghostly digits fully extended into the air. “What’s wrong, Gunny? Did you lose your ability to communicate properly?”
“I cannot hear you, Captain,” the grinning man responded, reaching for an item hanging from a necklace. Holding it outstretched he advised, “you must speak into me good ear!”
Braen responded with a grin of his own then turned a frown toward the empty berth on the pier. In his mind, he yearned for the dark outline of She Wolf and the company from her leather clad captain. I messed things up so badly, he thought, she was the best thing to ever happen to me and I ran her off.
“Braston.” A curt military voice barked his name as if it were a command.
“What can I do for you, General Reeves?”
“King Robert is anxious to disembark so that we can meet as a council. How much longer until we can.”
Braen pointed a patient finger at the brow, lowering into place under the watchful eye of Krill. “Any time you please, General. But I’d let them tie it off first. Armor doesn’t float very well.” His crassness surprised even himself, but the interruption of his private thoughts had provoked irritation.
“Buh… Braen!” A stammering voice shouted up from the wharf and the northern captain felt his melancholy lift at the sight of Sippen’s approach.
Suddenly wanting to leave the vessel as badly as the infantryman, he grabbed a dangling line and climbed onto the rail. With a look over his shoulder he shouted to his one-eyed friend. “You have Malfeasance, Krill!” Before swinging over the side he added toward the general, “I’ll meet you all at the palace. I’m going to stretch my sea legs.” He landed softly on the pier and let go of the rope
“That was druh… dramatic,” his engineer said through a wide smile, “shuh… showing off for the general?”
“Not at all. I was merely in a hurry to see my best friend.” Braen allowed worry to cross his face, suddenly vulnerable in front of his only confidant. “Where is she, Sippen? When did she leave and where did she go?”
“She luh… left last night.”
“Why? What did she say? Last I spoke with her she’d promised we’d work things out between us.”
“It wuh… wasn’t yuh… you, Braen.” Yurik stepped aside and pointed down the pier. Samani Kernigan approached with a vision at his side.
Hester’s bright yellow hair graced her shoulders and she wore a regal gown of Fjorik style. The dress had been dyed purple, the color of a queen. On her back was a brilliant white cloak with fur lined edges resting gracefully against her pale skin. Even before Braen could lock onto the sapphires that smiled back, he caught her scent of northern lilac. His legs wobbled as he struggled to breathe.
Captain Adamas Creech had been quiet since the armada had broken the Eskeran Blockade, pondering the changes in the world directly around him. He suddenly felt naïve at the ambition he had once held after the disappearance of Artema Horn. He now humbly reflected that his desire to rule was a passing fancy. Braston was right that the world has changed. Men no longer rule over the land, not when gods wield true power.
He no longer held quarrel with the northern captain and understood that his previous resistance was tied to his aversion for everything Fjorik. He viewed their tactics as barbaric and lacking strategic genius. They took what they wanted regardless of the effect on the people they robbed. That was why he had resented Braston’s interference in The Cove, and why he had worked so hard to undermine the man who had nearly destroyed the city.
Despite his feelings against Fjorik, he could no longer deny Braston’s military prowess. The man was a leader as demonstrated during the battle. He’s a tactician with undeniable instincts. Adamas watched him seated at the head of the table. Only weeks ago, he would have made a
point of challenging the man by sitting in the chair first.
The boy king cleared his throat, breaking Creech from his thoughts. “I want to start by thanking you for pulling my army out of Eskera.”
“This isn’t your meeting.” The words came from Braston’s mouth with a coolness that froze the room.
“Excuse me?” Robert Esterling couldn’t hide his shock at the sudden turn in the northerner. Even Creech was taken aback. Looking around, he noticed that everyone at the table had stiffened.
“I said that this isn’t your meeting to lead. You are in The Cove, and therefore have no power here.” The boy’s ever-present bodyguard and mentor began to speak, but Braston cut him off abruptly. “It isn’t your meeting either, General Reeves. I’d appreciate if you’d wait your turn.” Both Estonians clamped their mouths shut at the insult but remained quiet. “We’re missing a key member of the triumvirate. Captain Creech, unless your vote agrees with mine, we will be unable to decide on the evidence regarding Captain Dominique.” He gestured to the ships log on the table. “We’d be forced to await the return of Captain Thorinson.”
Adamas briefly tapped his finger on the table then looked the northerner in the eye. “I’m ready to find the man guilty of slaving.” All eyes shot to him with surprise. “I recommend that a sentence of death be carried out with his body displayed on a gibbet.”
Braston raised an eyebrow then proceeded. “Thank you, Captain Creech. I second both the vote and the recommended sentence. It appears that there’ll be no need to await the return of Captain Thorinson.”
Samani Kernigan cleared his throat and asked, “What about the fate of Nevra? Since you are both suddenly in agreement of something, dare we press our luck for a vote on his crime?” After he posed the question, all eyes immediately returned to Adamas.
“Although I can’t stand the bastard, I don’t see any clear evidence that he participated in the crime.”
“You were present during his confession, were you not?” Braston spoke the words like a knife slicing through the air and bleeding the air from the room.
“Aye. I was. But he’s a braggart and a blowhard, a child who was grasping at his throne. I can’t make my vote until we have testimony from someone involved in the planning of the crime. Since Dominique is quiet and his son is dead, we need to find Pogue’s wife and children.”
Braston nodded private thanks and Adamas returned the gesture. “Then it’s agreed that Amash Horslei and Alec Pogue will make haste to the southern continent and retrieve Mattie and the girls.”
Esterling interrupted, “Absolutely not! Those men are wanted for conspiracy against a sailor in my navy!”
Braston responded, “The last I looked, Your Highness, you were king of a dream and dreams don’t float imaginary ships.”
Robert Esterling stood in anger, but his wife placed a calming hand on his arm, softly urging him to his seat. He also has quality of leadership, but he’s still a child after all, Creech thought.
Braston wasn’t finished and continued, “Mr. Creech, do you agree that we should pass a formal request to King Robert Esterling stating that we will officially recognize his sovereignty under stipulations set forth by The Cove?”
“You suggest that we make demands of our own?” Adamas couldn’t help but chuckle at the bold move by the northerner. “Aye! The first of those being renegotiated terms with the taxes we pay to the crown.”
Braston added, “Exactly, along with payment for services rendered during his war. We are, after all, providing services that place us in violation of terms with his brother.
“I think we could iron those out. Shall we also demand the immediate pardon of prisoners?”
“Aye. Specifically, Captain Pogue and Amash Horslei.”
Robert looked at his wife who wisely nodded. He collected his composure and asked the pirates in a calm voice, “And what of Marita?”
Braen clapped his hand down on the table with enthusiasm. “I’m glad that you asked! She is a minor and therefore culpability must be passed to her parents.”
“Except that she is an orphan.”
“Was.”
Esterling sat up in his chair curiously. “What do you mean was?”
“An hour ago, Captain Pogue presented me with a petition of adoption, placing full guardianship of the girl under him and Mattie. Captain Creech, do you approve of the placement?” He handed Adamas the document who looked it over briefly.
“It seems to be in order.”
“Good, then the pardon is extended to her as well.”
Just like that, the Esterling King had been defeated at the table. Creech watched his cheeks redden while the pirates removed the wind from his political sails. Instantly, Adamas felt genuine sympathy for the boy. When the young man finally answered, he somehow found dignity in his bearing. “Present me with the new terms and I will agree. But I will have some of my own as well.”
Braston nodded and waved his hand dismissively. “Of course. We’d expect nothing less. I’m assuming that a renewed attack on your brother’s forces are among those?”
“Yes. I’ve been told that a force of defectors has left Marcus’ service, and I need help to find the bulk of that force. Then I’d like to mount an attack first on Eskera and then up the Misting River to retake Weston.”
“If you retake Weston then I demand that you place Horslei in power.” Braen’s words were spoken without taking his eyes off the young queen, patiently awaiting her expression. She calmly gripped her husband’s forearm in response.
“I can agree to that.”
“Good. Captain Creech, would you like to accompany King Esterling up the river and help him reconquer the cities?”
“Aye. That would be an easy task if I had a contingent of Dreamers to aid in the effort.
“I agree.”
Esterling eyed Braston suspiciously, “Where are you going if not with us?”
“I believe that Captain Thorinson is seeking personal vengeance against my brother.”
“Where is he?”
“His wife thinks he’s headed south to Middleton. I plan to meet up with Eusari and attack his fleet. I will take twenty ships, that should be all that I need with our improved firepower.”
Kernigan opened the door and a beautiful woman glided with confidence into the room taking a seat next to Braston. She moved her chair closer and Adamas stifled a smile when Braen scooted his awkwardly away. He watched the exchange between Braen and the northern queen with budding curiosity. There is certainly a history between Braston and his brother’s wife, he mused, and affairs such as these are easily exploited. Several times she placed her hand on the bearded man’s arm, and each time he pulled away. But his eyes are conflicted. Creech could tell that his political rival harbored feelings for the regal woman.
The next hour was spent listening to the woman describe the mind of Skander Braston. Everyone in the room lacked surprise at his mental anguish, but were shocked when she described the pleasure with which he committed his crimes and perversions. After she had finished, she again touched the northerner’s arm as she rose to leave the room. The touch visibly unsettled the large man and Braen lowered his eyes with fleeting confidence.
After Hester had left, the military men discussed strategy and organized their resources for the invasion. Braston finally excused himself to retire. The conflicted look remained. That man is far more complex than the northern brute I had assumed.
A clearing of a throat pulled his thoughts back to the room and Adamas turned to meet a palace page. “Captain, a message has come for you.”
He held out his hand and received a dirty missive, haphazardly folded and sealed with a simple dot of candle wax. “What’s this?” He turned it over in his hands, noting the lack of a seal. “Did you dig this out of the trash?”
“No, sir. One of the brig sergeants handed it to
me. Said that it was highly important and that I should rush. I would have brought it sooner, but I had to wait outside until your meeting ended, Captain.”
Creech waived the boy off with an annoyed shooing gesture then broke the wax, curiosity winning his attention. Lord Stefan Nevra respectfully requests your presence in his stateroom. Please attend as soon as possible. Adamas shoved the note into his pocket with a chuckle before scanning the others. No one had paid any mind to the arrival of the errand boy. With a final draw from his mug, he excused himself and headed for the dungeons.
The brig was musky and damp, not unlike a storeroom of a seasoned vessel. Creech liked the smell, but hated walking into the prison to meet with Nevra. Horslei and Braston should have allowed Pogue to run the rat through, he thought, that would have saved us the trouble of further dealings with the pox ridden bastard. He well remembered the day when the former king had revoked his letter of marque, forcing him to go into hiding in the city. Of course, on that day had also launched his own uprising. Although it had failed with Braston’s arrival, he still enjoyed the backing of many key supporters in The Cove.
When he reached the first station, he observed several men sitting around a table playing cards. A brawny soldier stood and opened the gate, allowing him to enter the guardroom. “Good day, Captain Creech. Please remove your sword. You may hang your belt on that hook.”
“Are you worried that I’ll speed up his execution?”
“No sir, we cannot allow the prisoner to gain access to weapons. Do you have any sharp objects in your clothing?”
“Just this.” Adamas drew a dagger from a hidden pocket in his tunic and placed it on the table. He frowned deeply when he noticed the other men eyeing it greedily. “What happened to you?” He asked a man wearing a bloodied bandage on his neck.
“Oh this?” The guard pointed at this neck. “It’s nothing. I nicked it on the practice field.”
Creech allowed the men to lead him to the cellblock. Something felt out of place, and his raised hackles urged caution. The men seemed bored with their duties, but that wasn’t what caused his discomfort. He felt flanked as they made their way to the cell. “Does it take all three of you to escort me?”