Pirates & Privateers

by Jane Glatt

  “Hanne told me to leave,” Inger was explaining to Charis. “She said the Yedrissian was already dead.”

  “What’s he to you?” Charis asked.

  “Nothing,” Inger stammered. “I’ve just never seen one before. I hear they cover themselves in tattoos.”

  “Yeah? I hear they breathe out smoke, but that’s not true,” Charis said. “There’s nothing special about them, especially this one. Oh, except he’s dead on the captain’s orders.”

  “I’m sure she had a good reason,” Inger said. “Well, I guess I’m to bed. I have to work in the morning, you know, over at the tavern.” Inger started walking away, but Charis didn’t move. “Could you walk me back?” Inger asked. “Now that I know there are so many dangerous people on Strongrock, I’m a little nervous to be out when it’s so late.”

  Dag had to suppress a snort when Inger said that. Inger had lied—again—and Charis must have believed her because he followed her out the door.

  “Let’s go,” Calder said. He led the way along the hall, but when they got to the doorway, he paused to let Dag leave first.

  Once outside, she flattened her body against the side of the building. She could see the square from where she was. A gallows had been set up and a body swung from it. Calder joined her at the side of the building.

  “I did say thank you, didn’t I?” Calder asked again.

  “Yes,” Dag replied. “Let’s go get Inger.” She wasn’t leaving without her sister, and Calder must have realized that because he didn’t protest. “Is Charis on patrol or something?” she asked him. “Would he still be around after walking Inger to the tavern?”

  “I don’t know,” Calder replied. “I haven’t noticed the pirates patrolling before, but they’ve never had a hanging either. Maybe Charis’ conscience won’t let him sleep. On the way here, I probably saved his life, and his orders are to hang me in the morning.” Calder shrugged. “Can you get past him?”

  Dag looked across to the tavern. There was an empty area to cross, and it was lit by moonlight. She looked up: there were a few clouds overhead.

  “Probably,” she said. “I’ll wait for cloud cover.”

  “All right. I’ll meet you at the abandoned cabins.” Calder met her gaze. “I’m pretty sure they didn’t find the sailboat. It’s at the hidden beach.”

  “Pretty sure?” Dag asked. If the sailboat wasn’t there, they’d be stranded.

  “I’m feeling Lucky tonight,” Calder replied. “I did just escape hanging.”

  “You did,” Dag said. Although she thought it more because of her than his Luck. And Inger, of course. Whose Trait didn’t seem to be behaving as usual. Was that Calder’s Luck at work? Could another person’s Trait—a Trait not related to yours—affect yours?

  “Ready?” she asked him. A cloud obscured the moon, and without waiting for his reply she sprinted across the clearing to huddle beside the tavern wall, Calder a step behind her. She paused for a few moments, and when she didn’t hear or see anything, she started edging along the back wall, keeping in the shadows.

  She stopped beside the closed door that led to the taproom. She could get to Inger’s room through here. She waved Calder on: he gripped her shoulder and looked her in the eyes, and then he was past her. She waited until he was beyond the tavern before she reached up and carefully opened the door to the taproom.

  FROM THE PATH, Calder peered out at the tavern. He didn’t like leaving Dag behind, but he would be more of a hindrance to her than a help for this. And she would hate it if he implied that in any way she wasn’t capable. Besides, if she and Inger were in a hurry it would be a better use of his skills to make sure no one was either on the path they had to take or at the huts.

  With one last look at the tavern, he turned to follow the trail that led away from the tavern. Roots and rocks threatened to trip him or turn an ankle, so he had to go slow. It was very different from Dag leading him, guiding him past every hazard.

  He heard a noise from up ahead and ducked off the path. As soon as he stopped moving, insects converged on him. He did his best to ignore them, not daring to risk disturbing the foliage around him to wave his hands to keep them away from his face.

  He peered through the vegetation: there was a light up ahead, and it was stationary. If it wasn’t someone walking along the path, then who was it and what were they doing?

  Calder frowned. He had to clear whoever it was off the path: Dag and Inger could come running this way at any time, chased by pirates. He wasn’t about to let them run into whoever was here.

  As carefully and silently as he could, he crawled through the underbrush parallel to the path. Luckily, the wind picked up; rustling through the trees and hiding the noise of his movements as he moved closer to the light.

  A lamp had been hung from a branch, and three sailors huddled in the middle of the path. Calder recognized two of them: Benil and Satu, the pirates who had captured him along with the now-dead Yedrissian.

  “I says we keep our mouths shut,” Satu whispered loudly. “Unless you want to end up like Kagiso?”

  “But he’s dead because he lied to the captain,” Benil said. “We need to tell her the truth while we still have the chance.”

  “I agree with Satu,” the third man said. “You never lied. Nobody asked you anything, so you’ve had no chance to lie. Captain, she don’t like liars, but she don’t like sailors wasting her time neither.”

  Calder had to agree with this man: he wouldn’t offer up anything to Margit Ansdottir unless asked. But none of that mattered to him. All he cared about was getting these three off the path. He picked up a rock and threw it further into the forest.

  “What was that?” Benil said. “Were we followed?”

  “Probably just an animal,” the unknown man said. “We’re in a forest.”

  Satu slapped at her neck. “Wish it was something that liked to eat insects. Miss that about being on the sea: winds that blow the bugs away.”

  “What kind of animal?” Benil sounded afraid. “I hear there are lynx out here. Are we in danger?”

  Calder reached around for another rock. His plan had been to lure one of the sailors into the forest and take them prisoner, but scaring them all into leaving would be even better. He threw the rock in the same direction he’d thrown the last one, but it hit a tree and bounced back to land on the path right in front of him. He swore under his breath and slunk further away from the path.

  “It’s getting closer!” Benil said.

  “I’ll scare it away,” the unnamed man said. Branches rustled, and then there was a crack as a limb was torn off a tree. Calder heard a footfall on the path near him.

  “I’ll—” A bell clanged in the distance.

  “Skit!” Benil said. “Do you think it’s for us?”

  “I hope not,” Satu said. “It’s roll call. We gotta go.”

  One of them grabbed the lamp and led the way down the path, the other two following him back towards Strongrock.

  Calder waited a few minutes to make sure they really were gone before he stood up and stepped onto the trail. He looked back towards the settlement, hoping to hear the sound of running feet, hoping to see Dag and Inger rushing out of the forest towards him.

  But there was nothing except the ringing bells. They would continue to ring until every sailor had been accounted for or they knew who was missing.

  Had his disappearance been discovered? Or had Dag and Inger been caught? Would roll call be rung for either of those situations?

  He hesitated, tempted to head back to find the two women, but it wasn’t the plan he’d agreed to with Dag. He had to sail the boat: he couldn’t allow himself to be captured, not if any of them were going to get off this island.

  With a sigh, he headed away from the tavern, away from the ringing bells, away from whatever danger might have found the Lund sisters.

  DAG WAS JUST outside of Inger’s room when the bells started ringing. She grabbed the door handle: it was unlocked, and she bre
athed a sigh of relief as she ducked into the room, closing the door behind her. Her mouth was open, expecting to have to calm Inger down, but her sister wasn’t there.

  “Skit!” she muttered under her breath. Where was Inger? She heard the sound of running feet out in the hall, and she rose to the balls of her feet, ready to tackle anyone who opened the door. But the door remained shut, and no one called Inger’s name, looking for her.

  At first Dag was relieved, and then she got worried. What if no one had come for Inger because they already had her? What if the ringing bells were because they had her?

  She danced from foot to foot, wondering what to do, wondering where her sister was. And the bells kept ringing. She blew out a breath. She needed to find Inger.

  The hall was silent now. The whole tavern felt empty, although she knew she couldn’t actually know that for sure.

  Dag slipped out into the hallway and down the stairs. The back hallway was empty too, and she went through a half-opened door and into the corridor that led to the kitchen. Would Espen be there starting his work for breakfast, or had the bells interrupted him? The door to the kitchen was open, but she didn’t hear any noises from inside the room.

  She crept along the hall and peered into the kitchen. It was empty, but the fire was lit: and untended. She hurried to the door that led outside and left the tavern to the sound of ringing bells.

  She huddled against the side of the tavern in almost the same place she’d been when Calder had left her to head to the huts. What had he done when the bells started ringing? Had he given up waiting or . . . she felt cold all over.

  Did the bells have nothing to do with Inger and everything to do with Calder? Had he been caught? Were they hanging him right now? Her heart constricted: no! She had to stop it! She had to save him!

  She ran towards the square, dashed across the clearing between the tavern and the inn and stopped, pressing herself up against the wall of the inn. She leaned out around the corner of the building for a better look.

  Torches lit up the line of pirates. They were quiet except for a few coughs and the sounds of shuffling feet. A figure swung from the gallows, and Dag’s heart clenched in fear.

  Not Calder. She let out a shaky breath. This man’s skin was so dark that it looked black: too dark for Calder’s nut-brown skin. It was the Yedrissian who had been hung in the night.

  Her relief evaporated when two people cut the man down. Were they getting the gallows ready for Calder?

  Suddenly, the bells stopped. Margit Ansdottir stepped forward, and every sailor snapped to attention. And there was Inger, standing between Ursa and Hanne, who looked frightened.

  “There has been an escape,” Ansdottir said, her booming voice carrying to Dag. “The man known as Rahm escaped in the night. I want to know if any of you helped him!”

  The sailors shuffled, but no one spoke. Ansdottir walked past them, staring at them one at a time. Dag looked at Inger again, only to find her sister looking right at her! Her twin tilted her head from side to side and then looked down. Dag followed Inger’s gaze to her clenched hands. She unclenched her right hand once, then again before Dag’s eyes rose to find Ursa frowning at Inger. Who blinked and scratched her nose, ignoring the tavern keeper.

  Dag pulled her head back behind the inn wall. Inger’s signal had told her to leave. But how could she leave without her?

  But how could she save her?

  It would be hours before Inger would be alone. She heard her sister’s name and looked out again.

  “Inger’s sister is missing as well,” Ansdottir said. “Who saw them? Rahm and Dagrun Lund. Someone must have seen them; someone must have helped them get away.”

  Ansdottir paced in front of the assembled pirates before stopping in front of Hanne. “You, it’s your fault they escaped!” She stared at the older woman, who sent a frightened look towards Ursa. Ansdottir nodded her head and two men grabbed Hanne and pulled her, struggling, towards the gallows.

  “Margit,” Ursa said. “She’s mine.”

  “Now, she’s mine,” Ansdottir replied. “The prisoner escaped from one of your people. I am holding you—and them—responsible. But I will give you a choice. Either lose this one or the other one.” She gestured to Inger, and Dag had to grab the wall of the inn in order to stay on her feet. No, they couldn’t mean to hang Inger! She would try to save her, or die trying. Anything would be better than watching her sister die.

  Ursa and Margit Ansdottir continued to face each other. Dag could feel the tension from where she hid; she couldn’t imagine what Inger was feeling, with her life in the balance.

  Finally, Ursa shook her head and looked away. Hanne cried out, and the men took her up the stairs to the gallows. Dag didn’t stay to watch; while all eyes were on poor Hanne, she ran across to the back of the tavern. A few moments later she was on the path to the beach with the abandoned huts. And Calder, she hoped.

  THE FERN WAVED, stirred by a gentle breeze. Calder pushed a frond aside just enough to let him watch the place where the path spilled out onto the sandy beach. He absently scratched at an insect bite.

  The bells had stopped ringing a few minutes before he’d reached the beach. What did that mean for Dag and Inger? Had they been able to get away?

  He froze at the sound of running feet. Someone ran past and was halfway to the first hut. Dag! He blew out a breath in relief.

  He waited to see if she’d been followed, but he didn’t hear anyone else behind her: not even Inger.

  “Dag!” He rose from his hiding place. He’d only taken two steps towards her when she launched herself on him.

  “I was so worried,” she said, her chest heaving as she wrapped her arms around him. “I thought . . . I thought they’d hung you. But it was someone else on the gallows.”

  “The Yedrissian,” Calder said. He’d automatically pulled Dag into his embrace, but now he felt awkward so he dropped his arms and stepped back. “Where’s Inger?”

  Dag ran a hand through her hair. “She’s . . . they hung Hanne. Because you and I escaped, they hung Hanne.”

  “And Inger?’ Calder repeated, confused. Hanne wasn’t Ansdottir’s crew; she was a spy for Ursa. Did that mean Ursa and the captain were on bad terms?

  “She’s not safe,” Dag said. “But I couldn’t get to her. Ansdottir gave Ursa a choice: Hanne or Inger. She chose to let Hanne hang. But Inger could be next, if Ansdottir doesn’t trust her.”

  “It wasn’t about Inger,” Calder said. “Or Hanne.” He didn’t say that hanging either one would have served Ansdottir’s purpose. “It was about power: who holds the power on Strongrock. By hanging one of her people, Ansdottir let Ursa know that she rules Strongrock.” He looked back at the path. “Were you followed?”

  “No.”

  “Then we should leave,” he said. “If you’re sure we can’t get to Inger.”

  “Not for hours,” Dag replied. “Days, even. Ursa isn’t going to trust her for a very long time. If ever.”

  “Then we’ll have to come back for her,” Calder said.

  “If she survives.” Dag didn’t sound hopeful but she started walking towards the far end of the beach.

  Calder followed her. The dinghy was where they’d left it. They would be exposed on the sea, but it would be faster than walking along the trail.

  “It wasn’t personal,” Calder said, catching up to Dag. “For Ursa, yes, but not for the captain. And Ansdottir still has plans for Inger: for her Trait. Inger should be safe as long as she does what Ansdottir asks.”

  “How do you know?” Dag stopped and met his eyes. Hers were grief-stricken, and all Calder wanted to do was make her feel better. But not by lying.

  “The captain lives by the rules of the sea,” Calder said. “She made an example of Hanne, and as I said, it was a show of power to Ursa and all of the pirates. That’s why they rang the bells for roll call: so that everyone could witness Ansdottir’s rule. At sea the captain is the law and now Ansdottir needs to be the same on lan
d, where Ursa has always ruled. Nothing shows who has the power more than the ability to remove—even kill—your adversary’s people.” He bent down and grabbed an edge of the dinghy and pulled up, flipping it over. Dag dug around in the sand and found the oars.

  “This was a power struggle?” Dag asked. “Ursa and Ansdottir? I thought they were tight allies?”

  “So did I,” Calder agreed. He pushed the boat into the surf and held it while Dag climbed in. She had the oars in place by the time he’d waded out up to his knees. He gave one big shove and then hopped into the boat, scrambled to get seated behind the oars, and started rowing away from the beach.

  “My guess,” Calder continued, “is that Ansdottir received instructions from Tarmo Holt to make sure Strongrock is under her control.”

  “Why wouldn’t she trust Ursa?” Dag asked. “Why hang one of her loyal accomplices?”

  “That is a very good question,” Calder said. They were rounding a point now and he had to combat cross-currents. “But I think Inger is safe, at least for now.”

  “I hope so,” Dag said.

  For the next few minutes Calder rowed in silence. It was almost dawn, and they had one more point to round and then they would be at the beach where the pirates landed their weapons.

  “There’s a ship,” Dag said suddenly.

  Calder swung his head around. A ship: the Vassan—Ansdottir’s ship, was coming up fast from the south. They must have stayed far out to sea so they couldn’t be spotted from the island. Calder redoubled his efforts. He had to get them to the beach: the pirates were already launching the dinghies.

  “Get ready to run,” he said to Dag. He checked behind him: two small boats were in the water. Wait, make that three, there was a sailboat, too. He and Dag didn’t have as much time as he’d hoped.

  The surf tossed their dinghy closer to shore.

  “Get out now,” Calder called. As soon as Dag was out of the boat, he pulled the oars in and stepped to the prow. When Dag was halfway to the beach, he dove towards her and surfaced just in front of her. Waist-deep water tugged at him. He turned to see a wave starting to form behind them. He grabbed Dag’s hand and, when the wave hit, pulled her off her feet. They were pushed towards the beach, and when he stood this time, the water was only knee high.