Minni darkened, punching Delik in the arm.
Delik took the jab in good humour. “Perhaps another time then, I forgot how sensitive she was about it.”
“Hells, you did,” said Minni.
The light-hearted ribbing continued through the morning. Delik and Minni bickered like an old couple, digging at each other’s sore points and goading one another on. Tikis joined in and was just as bad with both of them. They recounted fragments of times past, enough for them to have a laugh together, but not enough for Elrin to decipher the meaning. He found himself laughing along with the camaraderie, though he didn’t feel it himself. He wanted in, but there was so much history he couldn’t penetrate. He was just a shiner from the wrong side of the range.
The heat of the day took hold early. The cloudless sky scorched and the cool breeze of the morning burned up, draining the wind from the sails. The crew worked the rigging to catch what they could, easing Bone Dancer through the shallow channels.
The channel opened up into deep water and the ship changed tack, heading for a wall of rock, a mountain range growing out of the ocean dappled with greenery. It stretched across the sea, rising higher as they approached. Closer they came and Kobb made no move or call to correct Bone Dancer’s course.
Elrin held onto the rail, bracing himself for the ship to run aground. Instead they passed right into the mountain. There was an enormous unseen hole in the rock, wide enough for three ships to sail through side by side. It must have been a trick of the eye, for the hidden entrance was no magical force; solid rock arched high above them in a winding cavern. Kobb wheeled Bone Dancer starboard, through a kink in the tunnel. Ahead lay the tunnel exit, opening into a wide natural harbour. At the centre, huddled in a busy mess, an entire village of ships were at anchor.
Kobb called down from the quarterdeck, his bright clothes glaring in the sun like the treasures that surrounded them. “Welcome to Kobbton!”
***
Smoke from cook fires snaked into the sky through a forest of masts. Fresh baked bread made Delik’s stomach growl. Kobb’s pirate town thrived on the rich hauls he stole and traded. The outer edge of the village where the ships came to dock echoed with the cacophonous hammering of coopers and carpenters, breaking down barrels and building them, repairing damaged ships and modifying them.
The buoyant village teemed with humans and shankakin, though other races were speckled amongst them. A team of dwarves smithed around a well-insulated forge and an elf rowed by the pier with a boat full of crab pots. An old orc sat out of place with a group of sailmakers, his needle in hand, hard at work. Ona only knew what would happen if the dwarves, elves and orcs bumped each other’s drinks. Perhaps here in Kobbton they had escaped the ancient feuds. More likely they just avoided each other; the slights of dynastic snobbery weighed heavy and crimes of war heavier still.
The rescued slaves disembarked, free to walk amongst those who traversed the boardwalks and bridges, those who made their home and livelihoods upon the modified hulls of Kobbton. There were vessels of all shapes and sizes, a shamble of interlinking ships, stitched by plank and line, floating in the shell of some long dead volcano.
Blue-green water lapped against the steep rock, shielding the hideout from the open sea. The high cliffs were occupied by opportunistic trees and shrubs, collecting the strewn treasures with windswept limbs and grasping roots. Scores of boats and ships were berthed at piers that wheeled out like spokes around the hub of the pirate village. At the ready to sail were war galleys with sharp rams at the bow and ballista upon the decks. Docked nearby were Jandan caravels with their lateen sails and carracks like Bone Dancer, fitted with cannon. Drakkin longboats floated low beside merchant fluyts.
The pirate fleet was expansive and varied, yet Kobb’s most recent prize ships, sailing in such a grand procession, would be his new pride. Juniper and the galleons were the finest examples of Jandan naval might. They surpassed the carracks and caravels the Jandans brought with them when they had first made landfall on the coast, laying claim to everything in the name of their greedy Lord. The Jandan armada had multiplied its ranks with these war machines, galleons and frigates bristling with cannon, sturdy and fast.
Using these ships as bait for Kobb and themselves as bait for Jando was a gamble that didn’t sit well with Delik. He wasn’t the gambling type and here he was playing his hand of cards against a table full of chancers. He made it this far into the game and only had a few cards left. The trouble was which cards should he play next? Kobb had played his hand as Delik expected; the pirate didn’t have a good card face. If Jando didn’t play their armada, they had room to breathe, but if Jando did lay the armada on the table, Minni had best pluck the right card from her sleeve, or they were sunk.
Kobb swaggered across the deck and cut in front of Hurn as he approached the gangplank; a dangerous move considering the ogre was five times his size. “I’ll be calling in that favour now. Shouldn’t take you too long, given your extraordinary proportions.”
Hurn leant down and snorted his reluctant consent. Kobb flinched under the sudden rush of air from the ogre’s nostrils, streaming over his face.
“Hurn Ga Kogh lift what?”
Kobb motioned over one of Fjhor’s warriors. “Get the brute to move the cannon and shot. When he’s done with those, all the ballista need to be mounted. Report back when the jobs are finished.”
Amber took Hurn’s hand, ready to follow.
Minni grabbed her other hand. “Stay with me, love. Hurn will be finished soon.”
Amber produced the saddest eyes Delik had ever witnessed, her bottom lip slung in a pout, her spirit shattered.
“Little Bell safe with Hurn Ga Kogh. Little village sink if small man hurt—”
“No, no! None of that sort of talk, thank you.” Kobb jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll get Granny Shan to keep an eye on them, they got along fine last night after dinner. Isn’t that right, deary?”
Amber nodded her vigorous approval. Granny Shan had become a fast favourite with both Hurn and Amber, spoiling them with lollies and delighting them with stories of dragons and magic. Minni was confronted by the pleading eyes of all three, Kobb, Hurn and Amber.
Minni broke. “Oh, fine then. Just look out for each other and not so many treats. If they come back with a scratch, it’ll be your head, Kobb.”
Delik made his way down the gangplank, wondering if Minni had just handed Kobb the wild card they needed. If Amber was the Key to the Dragon Choir they must keep her close. Elrin too. What if it was the lad? He could chase the meanings of the prophecies to the five hells and still not know what they were about. He had to put it from his mind.
Delik followed Fjhor along criss-crossing walkways between the village ships. “How is it that Jandan scouts don’t spot the rising smoke and find your hideout?”
Fjhor’s face remained deadpan, though his broad shoulders straightened with pride. “They see the smoke, but they don’t see their way back to tell anyone.”
Kobb must have placed ships on guard throughout the maze of islands, perhaps hidden fortifications and fixed batteries of cannon. He had to have some weather witches tucked away somewhere. Perhaps they had a role to play. Kobb’s modified caravels would catch any ship with a witch at the sails. Whatever his strategy, Kobb would need something better to face off the armada he was goading into battle.
Passing through a crowded market square, Delik calculated how many in the village would take up arms. There were many children about, elderly too. Some would have to remain to care for them. At least a third of the population here would not be fighting fit. That still left hundreds of capable hands. There were also the rescued slaves, the rebels under his command and however many other ships Kobb had ready at sea.
They had a chance, but there was no way that Kobb had as many guns as the Jandans. He would win by boarding, overpowering the marines in melee. Like the market square, with the decks of several barges tied together, they would incapacitate
the Jandans, grapple them together and swarm the decks.
The market was a clamour of trade. Shell was exchanged for all manner or goods from lands near and far. The irony of being surrounded with gold and silver and trading in shell gave Delik a chuckle. These people would know the taboos more keenly than any other. Making their sanctuary in the dragon hoards was both brilliant and extremely dangerous. He wondered how long it took to dismantle the village and float it somewhere safe when dragon season came.
They arrived in the guesthouse, away from the noise and bustle of the market. Atop the wide deck of a modified drakkin war galley a bungalow rested. The two blue shuttered windows, red door and thatched roof made it appear like a giant’s disembodied head, floating in the bay. Across the deck, all manner of plants grew from pails and pots. There were miniature fruit trees and thick bunches of herbs. Tikis took one look at the hull, turned his back and folded his arms tight across his broad scaled chest.
“Don’t take it personally, Tikis. It just shows our hosts poor taste. Only Kobb would think to ruin a fine galley like this.” Delik chuckled hoping Tikis would find the humour in it. “Come on, I bet she’s perfect under the deck. Let’s take a peek.”
“This one shall remain.” Tikis sat cross-legged on the pier.
“It’s just for a while, I’ll cook you up something.”
“You and yours go and rest. This one’s shadow will set it aflame. This ship is for death and this home is for life. Drakkin cannot mix sacred places.”
It was a lost battle to urge Tikis any further. He had known him too long. “I understand,” said Delik, resting his hand on the drakkin’s shoulder. “This will be behind us soon.”
Delik led Minni and Elrin into the cottage, opening the shutters and enjoying the cool breeze that blew in off the water. Fjhor showed them the pantry and the fresh water barrel, the privy, and the loft sleeping space. His expression was impossible to read as he described the amenities. The warrior was hospitable, but preoccupied; his attention split.
Delik lit the fire in a small cast iron stove and put the kettle on to heat. “Would you like to stay for a tea?”
Fjhor shook his head, absent eyes tunnelled through the walls of the cottage into the distance. “Thank you, no. I will remain on the pier, should you need me.” He walked out and stood beside Tikis, the two warriors content with the mutual silence.
Delik found a pot and some tea, relaxing into the simple ritual. “Anyone going to join me for a cup?”
Elrin rubbed his eyes. “I’m heading up to catch some rest while I can. I was up far too late last night, considering the day we had. Don’t think me rude.”
“Go on lad, get some sleep, we’ll manage,” Delik waved him off, feeling lethargic himself. “Minni?”
She snatched the bag of tea leaves from Delik and inhaled. “Oh, that’s so nice! Pour for me too.”
Delik spooned the aromatic black leaves into the pot and sorted through the pantry. By the time the kettle had come to the boil he had a plate of cut cheese, torn bread and pickled onions on a plate for them both. He poured the steaming water into the teapot and let it steep before serving.
“Here we are then,” Minni kept her voice low. “Just as planned.”
“Except for all the hiccups, I suppose.” Dealing with Kobb was necessary, though it was never going to be easy.
Minni stacked a small tower of cheese, pickle and rye. “Don’t be so down on how it turned out. We’re here. That’s better than dead. We can pull this off, I know it.”
“Do you now? We’ve lost too many men back there. He sank a galleon. By Ona, his brains are in his trousers.”
“Count your shells. The Jandans fared worse than us. We saved most of the slaves and now they are safe here.”
“Here is not safe. It’s just a floating prison until we can take them home.”
“And home is just a prison until we find the choir.”
Delik sipped his tea, bitter and dark. He wished for some milk, though settled for sugar. “I lost it back there, at Rum Hill.” The shankakin offered some to Minni who shook her head, unable to speak with a mouthful. He stirred a lump into his own cup then took another sip, warming his hands. “Pelegrin got to me, everything got to me. I just wanted them all to suffer, whether it helped us or not. That lad of yours had me pegged. Sure as knots, he braved my stupor and stayed my hand. If it weren’t for him, I’d be planting the same bloody field as Pelegrin.”
Minni touched his hand, finishing her mouthful. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Even if we spared every Jandan, the Council would have denounced it. They’d make up what ever they liked because we took their ships and their slaves. You know how the print will read. They’d call it an atrocity against the Lord’s chosen. Jandans live in a hive of lies. Truth matters little to what they say. I’ll take my blades to any who care to haul me back there and serve in chains again.”
“You sound just like him. We have to be smart about this and control our impulse to slaughter the bastards, the less blood the better. Blood breeds vengeance and hatred. Just look at Pa. He boils with it. And what good has it done us? For every one he’s killed, he’s set three against us.”
“Take it easy on him. You’ve seen it; he is not as he was. Not since you’ve come back. Things are better now. He listens to you. He’s put every resource we have into this plan of yours. If Jaspa didn’t believe in what you do, he would’ve gone on and done things his own way. We’d be hunkered in a muddy hole, smelling the sweat of each other’s pits, waiting for a patrol to pass by. Small fry raids and breakouts weren’t working, you’re right. You’ve brought us some hope, Delik. But, you’ve got to give the old boy a chance. He believes in you.”
“Ha! He’ll never show it.”
“You’re both so alike.” Minni built another cheese and pickle tower. “You’re more your father’s son than I’m his daughter.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, not his real daughter,” said Minni, searching for the right words. “You said I sound like Jaspa. Well, I’d say you sound more like him than me. Stubborn old grumps who don’t trust their own barber with a blade.”
Delik chuckled, rubbing his stubble. “All right then, enough talk about the old man when he can’t defend himself. We’d best get our heads together and break him out to find this Dragon Choir.”
“Kobb said we could see him for ourselves,” insisted Minni. “Maybe he’s not locked up.”
“Yes, of course, Kobb has him staying in a guesthouse down the next pier darning socks. Heck, he’s probably lured Granny Shan to tea and made friends with Amber and Hurn already. Such an amicable old coot, always up for a chat.”
“If he’s locked up out of sight, we have to break him out.”
“This guesthouse might be cosy,” said Delik, “but Fjhor is our jailor, not our protector. If we behave, or in your case appear to behave, we might be able to get out and gather some information.”
“Play to Kobb’s plans?”
Delik smiled across his cup. “For now. Provided he continues to serve our own.”
“All his flamboyance is a distraction. What if we’re playing into his hands? He could have a different angle he’s working, one we haven’t seen. Sinking that ship was pointless, but what if it wasn’t? Why did he let Uighara and Pelegrin go? He didn’t get anything from either of them really. Why didn’t he just send one of them as bait and keep the other for surety?”
“It doesn’t sit well with me either.” Delik sipped his tea, soaking in the warm comfort. “We should wait for another audience with Kobb. Sit tight until then. He’s sure to be boasting about his conquest, something will slip. We might find out if his plans extend any further than the Salroc Sea. Then we can make our move.”
Minni pointed her last piece of cheese at Delik. “What about the Key?”
“How should I know? You’re the expert.”
“How often do I bother with a key?”
The shankakin furrowed his brow
and scratched his chin, pretending to think. “Having two keys is better than one, though you did let Amber go just now. Kobb must have the drop on us. He’ll be off with her on some magical wind, snatching up the choir as we chew upon this prophecy.”
“Your poor humour doesn’t help.”
“Neither does the prophecy. I don’t see how it makes a difference. If the Key will fall in your hand, then what can we do wrong? You’ve got two. Take them both. What is the problem?”
“Part of my prophecy has that only one key will work. A false Key will bring the Choir’s wrath. I have to pick the right one.”
“Prophecy upon prophecy for a magical trinket no one knows anything about.”
“Elrin’s priest, Kleith, knew about it. Knew enough to send Elrin here to find it.”
“Didn’t Amber show you that Uighara knew about it too? He might have had his hooks in Amber because she was the only one to work the damn thing. That’d explain him keeping her close.”
“If he knew where it was, why were the Jandan ships preparing to return to Lord’s Landing? When I read the Captain’s log on Juniper, Pelegrin’s last entry was clear. They weren’t heading for the Hoard Islands. They were just waiting on that last shipment of black powder.”
Delik tutted. “The black powder that wasn’t black and weighed as much as the shot it wouldn’t fire.”
“Do you have to speak like that? This is confusing enough.”
“Just trying to get all the pieces on the table so we can sort it out. That red powder was what they were waiting on, hidden amongst the black. Why disguise it? What’s more valuable to the Jandans than black powder?”
“Whatever it is, it was headed to Lord’s Landing.”
Delik drummed his fingers on the cup. Lord’s Landing was a big town with a temple, second only to the monstrosity in Jando. It was a thriving town of smiths and smelters, eating ore barged down river from the iron mines and chewing up the forest to spit out Jando’s finest ships. It was the untouchable linchpin of the armada, heavily guarded and a step away from Jando. “What about the new shipyards? The galleons, the frigates, the—”
Dragon Choir Page 20