Pirates & Privateers

by Jane Glatt

  “That’s . . .” Dag was about to say it wasn’t true but it was. Inger was at the Hall because Joosep recruited her, not Inger. “All right, it’s true but you have a good life.”

  “No, I don’t,” Inger said. “I have a safe life, but I don’t do anything. Here I can be useful. My Trait can be useful, even if no one here knows about it. And I love that.” She paused. “At the Hall the only use they have for me is giving birth to more people like you.”

  Dag studied Inger’s face. She’d always known that the Hall didn’t offer Inger as much as it offered her, but she’d thought it was enough. Why hadn’t her Trait shown her that it wasn’t?

  Because it had and she’d ignored it. Dag wanted her life as an Intelligencer and she also wanted her sister with her. She didn’t want to think about not having one of those things, or worse, having to choose between them.

  “You’re right,” Dag said, and Inger relaxed. “But there might be more to it than that.” She held up her hand when Inger would have interrupted. “I won’t say anything or try to persuade you differently unless I find out that there is something hidden here that is a threat. You know how my Trait works; if there’s a secret it won’t be long before I know what it is.”

  Inger sighed. “What if I don’t want to know? What if I just want to be happy and ignorant of anything that might be trouble?”

  “Inger, you know that’s not how life works,” Dag said.

  Inger nodded in agreement but she didn’t seem happy about it. Dag wasn’t happy either. If she found something that made life here unsafe for Inger, she’d have to tell her. But if she didn’t find anything would she have to return to the Hall without her?

  CALDER LOOKED UP from the mound of potatoes he was peeling and grinned at Tepio.

  “Come to make sure I’m staying out of trouble?” he asked the older sailor.

  Tepio shook his head and looped his thumbs into his waistband. “I’ve never seen a man so happy to work in the galley.”

  “It’s honest work,” Calder said. “Nothing wrong with that. Besides, Cook is an appreciative audience. Not everyone is.”

  “I suppose,” Tepio said. “I came to tell you that the First Mate is happy about the winds: he thinks we’ll shave a half day off the time to get to Strongrock.”

  “Good to hear,” Calder said, suppressing a smile. Would First Mate Charis like him better if he knew that his Trait was responsible for the winds? Probably not; he’d find another reason to hate a Pilalian. But half a day early meant only two nights spent on board. Should he be concerned that his Luck wanted him in Strongrock half a day early? Or on board this ship a half a day less?

  “Heard from Cook that the potatoes was extra good on account of you,” Tepio said. “Gonna do them the same for dinner?”

  “If Cook wants me to,” Calder said. “It’s his kitchen.”

  “Sure, right, I’ll tell the lads.” He grinned and rocked back on his heels. “Cook already said he’d have you do them the same.”

  “Don’t worry.” Calder leaned closer to Tepio. “I’m teaching him how.”

  Tepio laughed. “Lads’ll be glad to hear that too. After dinner I’ll show you your bunk.” Tepio grinned and left.

  Calder continued peeling potatoes. Yes, friends were always good to have, even if it was just for a few days. But he’d have to watch Charis. There was a man without friends. And Calder didn’t think he’d appreciate Rahm the Pilalian having one when he had none.

  Once the dinner was done and the pots and plates scrubbed and stacked, Tepio was as good as his word.

  “This one’s yours,” Tepio said.

  They were in the hold and hammocks stretched from every beam possible. The hammock Tepio had pointed to was above two others; always the least favoured since getting in and out could disturb anyone sleeping below. But Calder had slept in far worse than this. This hold was dry and clean and at least he had his own hammock and didn’t have to share and sleep in shifts.

  “Thanks,” Calder said. “Potatoes always get me a good bunk.”

  “Hah,” Tepio chortled. “If it were a longer trip we’d expect you to do magic with dried fish.”

  “Cod or herring?” Calder asked. “You need to treat them different.”

  “If you let Cook know in a nice way, I’ll let you win the first hand,” another sailor said as he joined them. “If you care to try your hand at ludus. I’m Steen.”

  “I could use a new vest, Steen.” Calder patted his sharkskin covered stomach. “I’ve been saving to buy one made of whale but they cost a pretty penny.” He’d played ludus many times and could count on one hand the number of times he’d lost.

  “You think you’re good, do you?” Steen said.

  “I think I’m Lucky,” Calder replied truthfully. He always warned them and they never believed him, but declining an invitation would make him more enemies than winning would. At least that’s what he’d always found.

  In the end there were five to play: him, Tepio, Steen, Jaak, and First Mate Charis. Calder’s stomach lurched when the latter showed up. Charis already didn’t like him; how would he feel when Rahm won all his coin? Calder couldn’t make himself lose: he’d stopped trying to years ago, since it only made people angrier. It was bad enough to lose to a Lucky and smart player—it was worse when the player made stupid mistakes and still won.

  The cards Steen dealt were old and had seen water more than once. Calder assumed that those used to playing with them could tell the cards apart by the water spots, but sadly for them it didn’t help them against him.

  “Sorry, lads,” Calder said as he swept the coins towards him after the first hand. “Don’t know myself if it’s a knack or skill, but I did warn you.”

  There were a few grumbles but Calder’s cheerfulness seemed to make losing a little more palatable. To everyone except Charis, that is, so he decided to try to win him over.

  “So, First Mate Charis,” Calder said. “A man doesn’t get to your position just for trying. Did you study navigation in Arressa?” Arressa was known for its formal training for every major trade, including ship navigation.

  “I did,” Charis replied. He slid a card away from him and tapped the table. Tepio dealt him another card. “At the best schools on any sea.”

  “That’s what I’ve always heard,” Calder agreed.

  “Do they teach you how to navigate through shoals?” Jaak asked. He was younger than the rest, with the blond hair and blue eyes of one of the Fair Seas Treaty Alliance countries. “Like the Teeth?”

  “No one can navigate the Teeth,” Steen scoffed. “Can’t be done.”

  “I heard it has been done—and often,” Jaak replied.

  Calder felt his focus narrow and knew that this was relevant to his search for the Lund sisters.

  “That’s a tale,” Steen said. “Nothing more than a story someone once told in a tavern to get a free drink.”

  “It could be done,” Charis said. “With the right Captain and First Mate. And the right crew.”

  “How?” Tepio asked.

  “Slowly,” Charis replied. “And only on a calm day.”

  “Pirates do it, that’s what I heard,” Jaak said, his voice a low whisper. “That’s how they escape the Fair Seas Treaty Alliance ships. They go through the Teeth.”

  “Privateers,” Steen said. “They’re privateers.”

  “What’s the difference?” Tepio asked. “They board ships and steal cargo.”

  “It’s a matter of who they work for,” Charis said.

  Calder kept quiet, although this too felt like information that he needed to know.

  “Then who do they work for?” Tepio asked. “Aren’t they neutral?”

  “Strongrock is neutral,” Charis said. “That’s why we stop there.” He paused to play a card. “But the ships that shelter there are not.”

  “They mostly take cargo from the Sapphire Seas anyway,” Tepio said.

  Calder played a card and won the hand. Charis glared at h
im but didn’t say anything. Calder shrugged, pretending that the game was more interesting than the conversation.

  “Why do you say that?” Jaak asked. “Did someone tell you?”

  “My cousin,” Tepio replied. “He works in the Fair Seas Treaty Alliance office. Most of the ships that are robbed belong to traders from the Sapphire Sea.”

  Tepio dealt another hand, and Calder tried not to let his annoyance show when he saw his cards: a winning hand straight from the deal. This would end the game. Was his Trait telling him he’d heard all he needed? The conversation had been interesting. He’d been sailing the Sapphire Sea for almost a decade, and he’d never thought about which ships the Pale Sea pirates stole from, but he’d never crewed on a Merchant Adventurer ship that had been pirated.

  “So, why don’t they stop them?” Steen asked. “If they know where they are, why don’t they stop them?”

  “It’s just property, that’s what my uncle says. And not even theirs. If it was their own ships and goods then the Fair Seas Treaty Alliance would root them out. But if Sapphire Sea traders are the ones losing then it should be up to them to stop them.” Tepio tossed a card down. “At least that’s what some of them say.”

  “And without consensus: without all the Clan Freeholders agreeing they take no action,” Charis said. “Politicians can’t make decisions. I prefer the chain of command on a ship. Skit.” He threw down his cards. “I’m out.”

  Calder put his cards on the table, grateful that Tepio had forced Charis out first.

  “Again?” Tepio groaned. “You are the luckiest man I’ve ever played cards with.”

  “Sorry. I warned you,” Calder said. He scooped up the coins from the middle of the table. He slid half of them across to Charis. “Here, this should be enough to buy every sailor an extra half-share of beer when they’re allowed.”

  “You don’t need to do that,” Charis said.

  “Sure I do. I made a deal with Jebris,” Calder said, referencing the god of the sea. “He takes care of me and I do my part for those who believe in him. That’s how I keep my Luck going.” He grinned. “I’m sure some of the sailors on board believe in Jebris.”

  “More than a few,” Charis said. He put the coins in his vest pocket. “I’ll give this to the provisioner straight away so I don’t get tempted to play more cards.” Charis got up and headed off, trailed by Jaak.

  “I’ll just make sure they get there,” Steen said and hurried after them.

  “Well done,” Tepio said. “It takes the sting out of losing, knowing that at least the men will benefit.”

  “It always seems like the right thing to do,” Calder said. He stood up. “I’m for sleep.” After a quick trip to the head, he found his hammock. No one was in the ones below so he scrambled up and settled in.

  He heard a few men come in before he fell asleep.

  DAG ROLLED OVER and punched the pillow. She’d been awake for an hour already. Her hip ached from her tumble down the hill yesterday: that was the excuse she’d given Inger for going to bed soon after dinner, but really, she’d been bored of hanging around the tavern while Inger worked.

  And her sister had worked hard. Dag couldn’t believe all the tasks required to get everything ready for the customers. Glasses needed to be cleaned, tables wiped, floors swept. Then the food and drink had to be stocked. Ursa had a cook but she herself picked the menu based on what she had in her cold room and what the day’s catch was. Last night it had been crab: big ones that could each feed two people. And it had been delicious, but once Dag had eaten there hadn’t been anything for her to do.

  None of the other patrons were very interested in talking to her. Oh, they were polite and friendly because she was Inger’s sister but when she’d try to steer the conversations to find out what was really going on, they evaded answering her. Usually her Trait helped her discover what people wanted to hide, but not last night. So, she’d given up and come up to bed. Now it was early and she was wide awake.

  She looked over at Inger, who was still fast asleep, and probably would be for a few more hours.

  Dag threw her covers off and got up. She’d use the bathing closet in the hopes it would ease the stiffness from her fall yesterday and then find her own breakfast.

  The cold water did help her aches and pains, and it certainly woke her up but she hadn’t been able to find breakfast at the tavern or anywhere else in the small settlement. There were a few fishermen up and about, and even if they were willing to sell her a fish, she had nowhere to cook it. It seemed that Ursa really did own every establishment that fed people. That meant Dag still had a couple of hours to wait before she could expect breakfast.

  Not wanting to repeat yesterday’s mistake of climbing above the town, Dag decided to explore along the coast. It wasn’t a very large island, from what she could remember from her lessons; she could probably walk all the way around it in a day. She grabbed a quick drink from the well in the square and set off north.

  Where the packed earth of the square ended, a path of sorts led through woods. After half an hour, the path veered back to the shoreline, and Dag stepped out onto a small, pebbled beach. Three seagulls skittered away from her, screeching at the intrusion. They took flight, landing on a craggy perch above the beach. Waves gently lapped at the shore, and for a moment, Dag wondered why no one lived over here.

  Except there was no fresh water, and there was very little land between the sea and the rocks that sloped up towards the plateau.

  At the far end of the beach, a rock face blocked the way. Dag studied it for a moment before grabbing a windswept tree. She hauled herself up onto the rock and edged along a narrow ledge.

  Dag had been following the ledge for almost half an hour and was wondering if she should turn back when she heard something. Shouting, or crying; not the screeching of birds, at least not birds she’d heard before.

  She reached a . . . not quite a cliff but the rock ended in a six-foot drop into the sea below. Past that there was another beach where a short pier jutted out into the water. A handful of children played on shore, dashing towards the sea and then rushing away to escape the encroaching waves.

  Stunned, Dag sat down on a rock and stared. This was a secret. But was it the only one or just the first one? She’d found the children: hidden away from the pirate settlement. She counted over a dozen children of various ages. Were there more?

  There were two wooden structures tucked into the trees farther up from the shore. One had a trail of smoke coming from a chimney, and the other was a long narrow building that looked like it could sleep dozens.

  The second building had the same type of washing hut as the Broken Mast. This one wasn’t fed by a cistern on top of the building; instead a wooden trough led from the rock face behind it. Another trough branched off towards the building with the chimney.

  This beach had its own spring: why was it so sparsely populated? There was just a single boat tied up at the dock: one of the sailboats that could be converted to ice travel. Now the presence of the other, similar boats in the settlement made sense. They must be used to travel from one spot on the island to another, not from Strongrock to Ostland. This boat had probably brought the children from the ship here.

  Dag decided that she’d found enough secrets for today. She was hungry and thirsty and had over an hour’s trek to get back to the tavern. She stood up and took one last look at the beach before turning and heading back along the narrow rocky ledge. She’d come back another time. No one here was going anywhere, and she still wanted to make her way around the whole island. But not today.

  If asked, she’d say that she made it to the first secluded beach and stopped there and napped or swam or did anything other than find a way past it. Tomorrow she’d head off in the other direction. If there were more secrets on Strongrock Island her Trait would find them. She needed to uncover all of them before she could decide what to do about any single one or understand how they affected Inger.

  When she got ba
ck to the tavern, Dag was a little disappointed. No one had wondered where she’d been, no one had missed her. Inger was up and had breakfast ready when she returned to the room, but of course she believed Dag’s simple explanation that she’d decided to explore.

  After breakfast, Inger had the noon meal service to help prepare for so Dag headed down to the dock. The three small sailboats were still there. She walked over to take a closer look. They looked well kept—the woodwork gleamed as if it had been oiled recently and the sections of hulls that she could see were smooth and undamaged.

  “Nice, aren’t they?”

  Dag turned to find a large, middle-aged woman with short, salt and pepper hair eyeing her. She was dressed in dark trousers and a pale grey shirt, with a leather vest.

  “Very,” Dag replied. She recognized this woman from the ship she’d travelled on. “I’ve never actually seen them on water before; only on ice.”

  “They be just as fast on the waves,” the woman said. “You’ve the look of Inger about you. You her sister?”

  “I am,” Dag held out a hand. “Dagrun Lund.”

  “Margit Ansdottir,” the woman said. She took Dag’s hand and gripped it, hard. “Captain of the ship you stowed on to get here.”

  Dag tried to remove her hand from the captain’s but the woman tightened her grip.

  “You don’t deny it?”

  “Why would I?” Dag asked. Her hand was released and she resisted the urge to cradle it against her chest. “I was worried that someone had stolen my sister away and I didn’t know who to trust.” She fished her purse out. “I can pay passage if that’s your concern.”

  Captain Margit’s grey eyes stared at her, and then she blinked, slowly. “No. I heard you were willing to row ashore here and even though you were bad at it, I reckon you did work your passage off some. But when you want off this rock you’ll need to barter with me.”

  “I’ll look for you,” Dag said. “Although my sister and I don’t have immediate plans to leave.”