Pirate's Promise

by Chris A. Jackson

  The rest of the captains rose to their feet. For the most part, they met his gaze with amiable, if not enthusiastic, acceptance.

  "Thank you."

  "Berth your ship at the naval docks, and our shipwrights will see to your repairs. I'll have a barge sent out to ferry the freed slaves to shore and relieve you of the galley."

  "Excuse me, sir." Thillion looked at Torius. "I haven't had a chance to speak to you about this yet, but some of the galley slaves want to sign on with Stargazer. We are shorthanded."

  Wilshire's eyes narrowed again. "They're free, Captain Vin. I won't have you pressing them into service."

  "Yes, they are free." Torius matched Wilshire's gaze. "And I don't press anyone into my service! Unless you mean something different than I do when you say ‘free,' they should be able to do as they please."

  The other captains exchanged pointed glances, and Yancy opened his mouth as if to protest, but Wilshire raised a forestalling hand. "I said free, and I meant it. We generally take freed slaves to a processing center where we record their personal information and offer them Andoren citizenship. If, after that, they still want to join your crew, I've no complaints."

  "Very well." Torius nodded to his first mate. "Tell them what's happening, Thillion. But if any of them wish not to be taken ashore, tell them they're welcome to stay aboard Stargazer. They're free, after all."

  "That they are, Captain." Wilshire donned her hat. "You should report to Admiral Weathers this afternoon. She'll have a letter for you, once I provide her with my report. Lieutenant Gosling, muster the surviving Gold Wings and join me aboard my barge."

  The captains and Gosling left the mess. Torius took a deep breath and reached for his glass of grog. The sweet liquor burned a track down his throat, settling his temper.

  "That could have gone better." Thillion arched an eyebrow at his captain.

  "Aye, and it could have gone much worse." Torius ran a hand over his face. One of his rings caught on a stitch, tugging it painfully. "I've got to go ashore once we get a berth, Thillion. I want you to oversee the repairs and get the new crew settled in. Send Snick ashore with some money to buy some more healing potions."

  "Aye, sir."

  "I want to be out of Almas as soon as we can." He headed for his cabin, unbuttoning his jacket and calling back as he went. "I'm going to be late for my return to the Observatory, and Celeste may worry."

  "Aye, sir!"

  Torius closed the door to his cabin and went to the mirror. A trickle of blood had escaped the stitch he'd snagged and reached his collar. He dabbed at it with a damp towel, then shrugged out of his jacket and shirt. The Gray Corsair captains had seemed none too impressed with either him or Stargazer. He'd have to dress in his best if he wanted to pass muster with Admiral Weathers.

  "And I thought being a pirate was complicated!"

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  "The stars are beautiful tonight."

  "The stars are always beautiful." Celeste nodded to Astrus as he slithered up onto the Observatory's platform. "But tonight, I'm looking at planets. Verces and Castrovel are in alignment."

  "That explains why you wanted to meet so late." He joined her at the center of the platform.

  "Yes. They'll be rising soon." She pointed to the east with the stylus she was using to take notes.

  "But why are you interested in a planetary alignment? If you want to view Verces, it would be clearer when it's farther from the sun on a moonless night."

  "I don't want to simply look at them. I want to experience the alignment." She swept the stylus in an arc, indicating the constellations of the Cosmic Caravan. "The positions of the planets among the constellations at the moment of the alignment can tell me a great deal."

  "Tell you ..." He peered at her, then chuckled. "I had forgotten that you believe in astrology."

  "And I had forgotten that you're a skeptic." That wasn't exactly true, but she wasn't about to let him ruin this moment. "If you don't care to stay, feel free to go."

  "I'll stay. Perhaps you can convince me that your prophecies are accurate." Astrus slithered in a circle around her.

  "Perhaps I can." Celeste scratched a note on the positions of two other planets. Apostae the Messenger approached the constellation of the Follower. So far, the meaning of that configuration remained a mystery to her. But Triaxus the Wanderer's passage through the Lantern Bearer seemed obvious. The Lantern Bearer was Torius's constellation, and he was out roaming the seas. Or perhaps he's already returning to me. Her tail shivered in anticipation.

  "Are you nervous?" Astrus had apparently noticed her shiver.

  "No. I'm excited. The song of the heavens is strong tonight. There's much to see, many messages to read and interpret."

  "And what message is signified by the alignment of Castrovel and Verces?"

  "Verces the Line, as you know, is a one-faced planet. The separation of its light and dark sides signifies decisions, or choices. Castrovel is the planet of life, fertility, and passion."

  "And what constellation is this alignment taking place in?"

  "The Stargazer." Celeste turned to the other naga, wondering if he was joking. Astrus surely knew where the two planets would be in the sky. "My own birth sign."

  "Is it?" He slithered in a tighter circle, his scales brushing her tail. "So, the message the planets tell you is that you have a decision to make that concerns life, or a matter of the heart. It seems simple."

  "The song of the heavens often seems simple, but interpreting the message is fraught with uncertainty."

  "That doesn't surprise me." Astrus moved in close beside her, staring at the eastern horizon, and his body quivered against hers. "Tell me. If you seek to know the future, why not simply use a divining spell?"

  Celeste found his proximity distracting, but also felt a strange exhilaration. She had long awaited this alignment. "Because there is no art in divination. The stars speak to me, and I listen. I need no magic."

  "I see."

  "Do you?" She glanced at him. There was interest in his face, but he was looking at her, not at the stars.

  "I think I do." Astrus turned his gaze back to the east. "Look. The Stargazer rises."

  Celeste looked toward the east. The sky shone with the faintest hint of dawn, dimming the lesser stars. Just above the horizon rose the brilliant blue-white brow of the Stargazer. Shifting her view, she searched for a pair of stars twinkling red and blue—the Stargazer's eyes. There! And between them floated two more constant motes: green and topaz, Castrovel and distant Verces. Excitement surged through her.

  What decision? What does the alignment portend?

  "How do you know, Celeste?"

  "How do I know what?" Celeste didn't take her eyes off of the alignment.

  "If your interpretation of the stars' message is correct?"

  "Oh." She shuddered as he leaned in, his scales rustling against hers. "Often the message isn't clear until events come to pass, but it serves to heighten awareness."

  "I see. Perhaps I can help elucidate this prophecy for you."

  "I thought you didn't believe in astrology."

  "I think I'm beginning to." He shifted again, a wave of smooth motion that sent a shiver down the length of her body. "I find it interesting that this alignment, this decision concerning the path of your life or a matter of the heart, coincides with a question I've wanted to pose to you."

  "What question is that?" Celeste blinked. She found it difficult to maintain her focus on the alignment. Something stirred deep in her stomach, a tingle that radiated like ripples in still water.

  "I can't help but wonder if our meeting was not serendipitous."

  "What do you mean?" Another warm wave of tingles flooded through her body. Her tail twitched.

  "Our people are rare, Celeste. I've lived nearly a century, and have met only two other lunar nagas. Your mixture of intellect and naiveté fascinates me. Your courage inspires me. There is much we could share beyond our love of the stars."

  "W
hat are you suggesting, Astrus?" She felt a surge of fear that she already knew.

  "I'm suggesting that you stay with me, Celeste." Astrus writhed his coils against her, and his scales shimmered like moonlight on polished onyx.

  Celeste flushed with heat, a sensation she'd never experienced before. Her scales seemed to catch fire. The urge to writhe, to join her pearlescent radiance to his, surged like a song through her blood, a song she did not know, but longed to sing.

  "I ...I'm ..." Celeste pulled away, confused by the clash of mind and body. She didn't like Astrus, yet the sensation of his body against hers felt so viscerally right. She'd never experienced anything like this, even with Torius. She forced down the troubling urges. "I'm flattered, Astrus, but although we share a love of the cosmos, we share little else."

  "But there is so much more that we could share." His scales shimmered with every rippling motion. "There are mysteries of the deep spaces between the stars that I have shared with no one! I could show you so much, Celeste, and there are many things that you could show me."

  He brushed against her, and her scales felt as if they had caught fire. Celeste gasped and pulled away. "Of that I have no doubt, Astrus, but I can't just abandon my friends." Her mind felt clouded. She couldn't think straight.

  "We could combine forces, Celeste! Together we could amass a huge following! We could make our home here, command tithes from all who wished to use the Observatory. We could become powerful! True lords of the cosmos!"

  "I don't want ..." Celeste's thoughts whirled in confusion. What did she want?

  "Don't you?" Astrus encircled her body, his coils tightening around her. "You do, Celeste! I can feel your want! Your need!"

  "No!" She twisted away, her mind reeling against the surge of carnal instinct. "Stop it, Astrus!"

  "Why?" He curled around her until they were face to face. "Don't deny yourself this chance. It might never come again. Don't refute who you are!"

  "Who I am?" The thought hit her like a lightning bolt. He has no idea who I really am. Twisting, she unwound herself from his embrace and backed away. Immediately, her physical urges eased, and her mind cleared. Flicking out her tongue, she encountered a curious essence, musky yet sweet—irresistible—coming from Astrus. She had to get away. "Please, Astrus! This is too sudden, too much all at once. I need to think about this."

  "What is there to think about?" He slithered forward, but she retreated.

  "No! Please, Astrus. If you respect me, you'll give me time to think!"

  That stopped him cold. He stared at her as if she had slapped him, which she might have if she'd had a hand to do it. "I ...do respect you, Celeste." He stopped writhing, and the luminescence of his scales dimmed. "Think all you wish, but don't discount my offer. We are the same, you and I. None of those humans can ever give you what I can."

  That Celeste couldn't deny, and a deep, instinctive part of her wanted what Astrus offered. But she was more than just her baser instincts. What Astrus would never understand was that Torius and the crew of the Stargazer offered her so much more than the naga ever could. There was no decision to make, but Celeste knew that he would argue, and right now, she didn't know how long she could resist his persuasion.

  "I'll take your offer seriously, Astrus, I promise, but I must think about it." She gathered her books and charts with a flick of magic.

  "You'll give me an answer this evening?"

  "I will." Celeste turned away and slithered toward her tent. As the sun crowned the horizon, the meaning of the planetary alignment dawned in her mind. She did have a decision to make. She also knew what her answer would be.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Confrontations

  Paper crinkled pleasantly in the breast of Torius's dress jacket as he descended the marble steps from the Office of Privateering Actions and through the marble-pillared foyer of the Admiralty. The two letters nestled in his pocket—his letter of marque and a bank draft—accounted for only half of his broad smile, however. The rest resulted from his meeting with Admiral Carillia Weathers. Having expected the worst after his encounter with the dour Gray Corsair captains, he had been taken aback by the admiral's grin, congratulations, and hearty handshake.

  Torius had found Weathers's enthusiasm infectious. That she enjoyed her position became obvious when she compared her efforts directing Andoran's privateers to herding a swarm of rabid wildcats. She spoke frankly when describing his duties, but what really impressed him was her comment about the grousing in the Admiralty concerning his prize money. Since he hadn't yet received a letter of marque, they argued that he was owed not a single copper. Her response to their arguments had taken him by surprise.

  "You risked your ship and crew to avenge one of our own, Captain Vin. I, for one, am not going to forget that! I told them that I would pay you from my own discretionary funds, and if they had a problem with that, they could draft their complaints in a formal letter and stick it up their arses! You should have seen their faces!"

  Her cut-through-the-crap attitude had also cut through his dark mood, and as he left the Admiralty, he vowed that even Grogul's scowl wouldn't break his cheer. The bosun leaned against a pillar at the building's entrance, glaring at everyone who passed, as if daring them to greet him with their customary, "Good day, citizen!"

  "Cheer up, Grogul!" Torius clapped him on the shoulder and laughed. "We just made a boatload of money."

  "Aye, sir." Grogul fell into step beside him, but his grim expression remained. "This place's just got me on edge. Everybody's so damned happy. Even when they're arguing, they're happy! It's like there's pesh in their water supply or somethin'."

  Torius laughed and turned up the broad avenue of the Field of Concord, sidestepping a gaggle of chattering students. "It's not pesh, my friend, it's freedom. They're drunk on it."

  "They're drunk on somethin' all right." Grogul cocked his head at a halfling standing on a tall box near one of the field's many statues, loudly voicing his opinion on the government's frivolous military expenditures. "Mouthin' off like that'd get you strung up in Cheliax."

  "Exactly." Torius nodded down a narrower side street. "This way."

  "Where we goin', Captain?" Grogul glanced over his shoulder at the yammering halfling as they rounded the corner.

  "Bank." Torius patted his pocket. "I've got to make a deposit and arrange to have the crew shares delivered to Stargazer."

  Grogul just grunted and cast another glance over his shoulder. Then he muttered in a low tone, "Sly cove in a green cloak followin' us, Captain. Noticed him hangin' about when you were inside."

  Torius didn't look back. If Grogul said someone was following them, he had no doubt someone was. He didn't know whether to be nervous or relieved. Vreva had told him he would be contacted by someone. When he had asked how he'd recognize her mysterious colleagues, she had laughed wryly.

  "You won't, but they'll recognize you."

  "Don't kill him. I want to talk to him." Torius nodded toward the next corner, a narrow street between two tall granite-block buildings. "There."

  "Right."

  They rounded the corner, and Torius kept walking, clacking his heels on the cobbles and keeping up a stream of casual conversation. Grogul flattened himself against the wall and waited. The fellow was indeed sly, but when he peered cautiously around the corner, the bosun reached around and jerked him right off his feet. Torius hurried back to find the man pinned against the stone wall, the soles of his boots several inches off the ground, Grogul's kukri against his throat.

  "Careful, friend." Surprisingly, the man's tone was casual and his dark Mwangi features calm.

  "Who are you, and why were you following us?"

  "Your bosun's quick, Captain Vin. Please tell him to release me. I don't want to hurt him."

  "You don't want to ..." Torius's incredulity faded when he saw the glint of steel beneath the man's concealing green cloak. The tip of a stiletto pricked Grogul just below the ribs. The half-orc apparently felt it, for his li
ps receded from his tusks in a snarl. Torius didn't want to bet Grogul's life that the bosun could cut the man's throat before the stiletto pierced his heart, but he wasn't comfortable with this stalker quite yet. Fortunately, Vreva had given him a way to confirm that he was Torius's contact.

  He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "I saw a strange bird today."

  "A yellow hawk, perhaps?" the man replied, his eyes still on Grogul, his knife poised.

  "No, the yellow hawk never flies north of Garund."

  "A black one, then."

  "Let him go, Grogul."

  The half-orc put his kukri away and lowered the man to the street, his glare intact. The stiletto vanished.

  "You're careful. That's good." The man grinned and reached inside his cloak, which elicited another growl from Grogul. "Easy, friend. I just have a little present from a ...business associate." He withdrew a sealed scroll tube and a small pouch. "Congratulations on your letter of marque. That was the last hoop you needed to jump through to become one of us."

  "Who is ‘us'?" Torius asked warily.

  The man answered by drawing up his sleeve and whispering a word in an unknown tongue. On the inside of his dark wrist, an even darker tattoo swam into view, a black eagle clutching a sword and arrows. "The Twilight Talons, of course."

  "The—" Torius cut short his blurted reply. "I didn't think they really existed."

  "We don't." The man's pearly teeth flashed. "Not officially anyway. Only two people know who all of our operatives are, and Marshal Trellis certainly doesn't have an office where you can drop in. You'll get used to it. Now, here are instructions and payment. I know you don't have a package for us on this trip, but when you do, don't let anyone see you make the drop."

  "The drop?" Torius took the scroll case and pouch, the latter clattering like a bag of dice.