Dark Empress

by S. J. A. Turney

  She was no longer a girl, but a woman of sixteen years and some weeks, and she was already a concubine to the most powerful man in the world. Given enough time to manoeuvre, within a month or two she would be in a position to be taken as wife instead of concubine. Then would be the greatest challenge of all…

  To disband the harem and become sole queen.

  In which we see that the years have been kind to Samir

  The Dark Empress lunged violently through the water, rounding the sandy spur that jutted from the island. Ten minutes ago they had been plodding along, using only two sails and no oars, the crew resting and relaxed, trying to decide whether to drop anchor and go ashore to collect fresh water. And then the boy aloft above the main sail had called out.

  A merchantman had appeared around the far side of the island, visible over the humped sandbank only from the lookout’s position.

  Within moments captain Khmun had called the orders, the sails had been unfurled and altered, three rows of oars extended and dropped into the water and the Empress sallied forth to confront the target.

  Not many years ago, Samir thought as he watched the boys with the rigging, he would have been there, hauling on ropes and climbing the sails. Strange how things worked out, but then he’d been planning his advance on board since the day he arrived.

  And here he was now at sixteen years old. Still short for his age, but lithe and wiry, with his straight hair brushing the base of his neck and shoulders, Samir’s face had filled out, giving him a heavy jaw and dark bristles that defied his attempts to stay clean shaven, attempts that had ceased a year ago now.

  With a sigh, he squared his shoulders, allowing the chainmail shirt to settle into a more comfortable position over his heavy tunic. Blinking away a sudden spray of salty water, he grasped the hilt of the heavy blade at his side and cast his glance over the men on the deck before him.

  “Alright, lads. Let’s not have any cock-ups like last time. A sailor’s precious little use with one arm. Felix and his men will take the wheel and rudder and then move to the sails and the hatch. Our job is to neutralise whatever marines they have on board so that Felix can do his job. Got it?”

  There was a rumble of assent from the men of Samir’s boarding party.

  “They’ll probably not have any marines anyway, Samir.”

  He narrowed his eyes.

  “It’s possible, but not likely. In the last couple of years we’ve earned a bit of a reputation, Jaral. I’ve heard the merchants have started to eat into their own profits to hire mercenaries and guards. Chances are there’ll be warriors on any vessel in these waters.”

  Again there were nods of agreement.

  Samir sighed. It was definitely getting harder. Khmun and Sharimi had consulted with the senior sailors and suggested the possibility of heading east or north; moving to more traditional Imperial waters, where the Dark Empress was as yet unknown. They could still be just about within reach of Lassos and yet raid waters towards Germalla. Samir had panicked for a moment at the thought of moving so far away from M’Dahz. His intention had always been to reach a position among the pirates of Lassos in which he could begin to use them to move against Ma’ahd and reclaim his home.

  He had already allowed himself to lapse once into a wasteful life in the docks of M’Dahz and forgotten his overall purpose. He would not allow himself to do that again. Marshalling every argument at his disposal, Samir had turned his considerable talents at persuasion to keeping the captain and crew of the Empress close to the southern coast.

  Soon, though, he would have to find a way to gather the various captains together and move on M’Dahz. The idea of promoting it to them as a second Lassos, a potential pirate haven in the border zone, had played around in his mind a few times, but the position was so dangerous, and the fight to claim it would be so tough, that he would need a great deal more incentive to make it an attractive proposal.

  He shook his head. In the meantime, he had a job to do.

  “Everyone ready?”

  There was a murmur of assent from his men once again. They would not shout; no reason to risk giving too much warning to the oblivious merchant merrily wandering along at the other side of the sandbank.

  Slowly, almost ponderously, the merchant came into view around the slope at the end of the sand bar. There was, as always, a pregnant pause while the quiet predator raced in at an angle toward them. Then, suddenly, someone on board must have spotted the Dark Empress, for cries went up aboard and there was a sudden burst of panicked activity. The merchant began to lean away from them and turn on an escape path.

  Samir laughed quietly. This was a slow mercantile vessel; little more than a barge with a sail. They’d not get very far before the swift ex-military Empress was on them. Obviously their military complement was not overly large, given their desperate attempt at flight.

  The boarding party were clearly as eager as he and, as he listened, he could hear someone in Felix’s party abaft urging the Empress on toward her prey.

  He smiled as he stood, tensely, watching the impressive speed with which the powerful pirate vessel gained on the cumbersome merchant. As the minutes passed, the details became visible on the target ship. The crew were running around as though their panicky desperation could prevent the inevitable. Samir gripped the rigging next to him as the Empress lurched slightly in the wake of the merchant. The trader captain had done very well to turn such a slow beast away from them in this time and in such a tight curve. He must really be very good.

  He nodded to himself as he watched. He was about to ruin a man’s livelihood, but such were the perils of the sea and better they met the Empress than some of the other ships that worked out of Lassos.

  Khmun had once been part of the Imperial navy, long ago, and held certain principals that were sadly lacking among most of the pirate captains. The captain of the Dark Empress, while now infamous for the sheer number and value of his achievements, had also managed to maintain a reputation that, unchecked, would turn him into some sort of folk hero.

  Samir’s captain always gave the opposition the opportunity to surrender their cargo without further incident. If this was not acceptable, then he would take the vessel and its cargo by force, but always with as little injury and loss of life as possible. Most of the captains would simply kill most of the captives, ransoming the more important ones. Khmun held to the principal of mercy and always allowed the crew to leave on board their own lifeboats. If the enemy had been particularly courageous and deserving, he may even take their cargo and leave them with their ship intact.

  This set of very military principals had spread to one or two of the other captains, who could see logic as well as mercy in the method. Dead merchants were no danger, but neither could they buy new ships, re-equip and then bring fresh cargoes your way. There was a small movement of what Samir considered gentlemen captains among the more vicious cutthroats of Lassos.

  Another lurch and they were almost on the enemy vessel. With a few crisp commands from captain Khmun, the Empress swung out sharply to starboard and then back on line. Within a few moments they would start to come alongside the merchant, at which point Samir and his boarding party would swing over and put paid to the marines on board, clearing the way for Felix.

  As the two ships closed, something occurred to Samir. They would have to manage the boarding action very carefully, as the side of the merchant vessel was considerably higher than that of the Empress. He frowned. How could that be? This was a laden and slow merchant. It should be floundering around several feet below their own deck level. And the Empress was light and riding tall.

  “Shit!”

  The men of his party turned to him in surprise.

  “Sir?”

  “Something’s wrong, Rin. I think we’re in trouble.”

  Without waiting for questions, Samir ran across the deck and glanced up at the lookout.

  “Can you see anything unusual?”

  The lookout looked down in surprise
and then quickly spun around and cast his gaze across the horizon. Samir heard the string of expletives very clearly.

  “You blind ass!” he bellowed up. “How many and of what?”

  By now other members of the crew had caught on to the sudden flurry of activity amidships. The lookout shook his head.

  “One ship, but she’s a daram, the same as us.”

  “Flag?”

  The lookout squinted and shaded his eyes with his free hand.

  “Can’t quite see, sir, but I think its pale green or pale blue.”

  Samir was already running toward the captain at the stern before the boy had finished.

  “Sir. Daram closing in behind us and the idiot boy lookout can’t tell who it is, but it’s clearly not Pelasian. Could be Calphorian or some private force. Also, the merchant’s got far too much freeboard, whereas she should be wallowing low in the water. Sir, she’s not carrying any cargo. We’re in the jaws of a trap.”

  Khmun rubbed his chin for a moment.

  “Any marines on board the trader?”

  “Not that I’ve seen sir. I think it was just bait.”

  The captain nodded.

  “Then Felix can board her. We’ll set her crew adrift and fire the vessel. If we can get her ablaze we might be able to use her against the other daram. In the meantime, though we’ll have to fight them off and make sure they don’t board us. Think you can do it, Samir?”

  Samir laughed.

  “Soldiers don’t know how to fight dirty, captain. We’ll keep them quite busy until you’re ready for whatever you want to do.”

  The captain clasped hands with him for a moment, and then turned his attention to shouting commands among the crew. On the way back to his men, he passed the second boarding party and Felix grasped his elbow as he passed.

  “I’m overmanned for the job, Samir. If there’s no marines on there, I only need a dozen men. You take the rest with you; you’ll need ‘em.”

  Samir considered arguing for a moment, but Felix was right. He beckoned to half the men in the group and they followed him back along the ship to where Samir’s party stood waiting.

  The heavy military daram was bearing down on them with speed and purpose. Any minute now they would be in trouble unless Samir and his men could keep them occupied and the captain came up with one of the clever manoeuvres for which he was famed. Samir turned to his men.

  “We’re going to have to board them to give the captain time to do what he needs to. If we just try to stop them getting aboard us, we’ll end up fighting among our own oarsmen. So as soon as the damn ship gets close enough I want everyone over there. Once we’re across gather into groups and we can start doing some damage. Three groups. One by the main sail amidships, one making their way toward the rear where the officers are and the third in between. Alright?”

  There were shouts of agreement and Samir turned back to examine the ship bearing down on them. Certainly Calphorian. What the hell were they doing so far to the west?

  In which a rift forms

  Ghassan leaned against the rail and watched the pirate ship intently. The captain was good. The moment the lookout had spotted the Wind of God, the men on board the ship had reformed very quickly. Rather than panic and try to run, which would have been disastrous for them, since the militia vessel was running at maximum pace, while the pirates had slowed to deal with the merchant as they pulled alongside, the captain of the Dark Empress had continued what he was doing but reorganised his men.

  “Captain? He’s only sending a few men on board the decoy. He’s formed the rest up to stop us.”

  The captain nodded sagely. He had come to rely quite heavily on the sharp mind and eyes of Ghassan and within a year of reaching full service age, the young recruit had already been promoted to a junior officer position.

  “Suggestions?”

  Ghassan shrugged.

  “We still outnumber them, sir, and this Khmun seems to be a clever and honourable man. I don’t think he’ll make it a fight to the death. We just need to prove to him that we are not willing to back down and he’ll do so to save his crew.”

  The captain continued to nod.

  The militia warship closed with impressive speed on the pirates. Ghassan twitched as he gripped the hilt of the blade he carried ready. He would lead the second boarding party, having considerably less experience than lieutenant Shufi. The Empress came ever closer and, with a nod, Ghassan had one of his men ready the grapples.

  As the gap between the two vessels rapidly narrowed, Ghassan realised flames could be seen beyond, on board the merchant ship.

  “The bastards have fired her. I hope Khmun let the crew go first or I’ll skewer him myself.”

  There were nods of agreement among his men.

  He counted down under his breath the seconds until the pirate ship, with its complement of mismatched criminals lining the rail, reached the point where grapples could be thrown.

  “Four… three… two…”

  He blinked in surprise as the first rope from the pirate ship crossed the gap and the heavy iron grapple fell among his men.

  “What?” he bellowed in disbelief as he and his men were forced to drop their own grapples and duck out of the way of the iron missiles that shot over from the pirate ship, scraping across the deck and anchoring themselves among the rowing seats and on the rail.

  “They’re boarding us? Are they insane?”

  There were cries from the men on board the Dark Empress and the militia vessel lurched as twenty strong, bulky pirates hauled on the ropes and dragged the two ships together. Several of Ghassan’s unit lost their footing as the two vessels met with an almighty crash. This Khmun was supposed to be unpredictable and clever, but this was plain crazy.

  And with no further pause, the world exploded into a chaos of noise, movement and violence. Without an order being given, the pirates hurled themselves across to the militia ship, taking advantage of the surprise and the fact that the soldiers were temporarily off balance.

  Behind the boarding party, the top deck oarsmen on the pirate vessel, currently superfluous, unshipped their oars and stood ready to repel any militia boarders that made it past the initial attack. Given the fact that they’d taken the pirates by surprise with little over a minute to react, Ghassan couldn’t help but be impressed by the precision and coordination the men of the Dark Empress exhibited.

  He had no time to appreciate the matter as he suddenly found himself under the direct attack of a crazed and excessively ugly Pelasian-looking man with a jagged, saw -edged sword. Desperately, he jumped back out of the way of the first swing of that horrible weapon. Righting himself, he felt the mast behind him. Taking a deep breath, he let a blank mask fall across his face and waited as though in terror. The pirate grinned and swung the terrible blade again. In a sharp movement, Ghassan ducked to one side and the blade bit into the heavy timber mast.

  The pirate started in surprise and Ghassan righted himself and lunged with his own blade. The ugly fellow was surprisingly quick, though, and, as this officer went for him, the pirate grasped one of the soldiers by the shoulder and hauled him between them as a shield, forcing Ghassan to arrest his blow sharply or face impaling one of his own men. With a laugh the saw-blade pirate flicked a mock salute at him and then disappeared in amongst the flurry of men.

  Ghassan took advantage of the brief pause to take stock of the situation. The pirates had used the confusion to form into three distinct groups. The first was engaged here amidships with Ghassan’s men. The mess was well-planned, preventing the other militia boarding party from getting involved. Instead, the second militia unit were trapped behind his own, trying in vain to cross between the two ships, but held at bay by several rowers flailing dangerously over the gap with their heavy oars.

  He turned to look back along the rear of the ship and saw that the other two groups of pirates were also well placed. The furthest group were now engaging the officers at the rear and keeping the helm busy. The Wind of
God would be unable to manoeuvre until the area was freed of attackers, but the third group had positioned themselves between the two areas of fighting like a wall of ugly and were severing the ropes and rigging that controlled the sails.

  Ghassan shook his head in amazement. Despite being outnumbered and in a poor position, the pirate captain had managed to turn things to his advantage. The militia troops were trapped and mostly useless, while the pirates were rapidly gaining control of the helm. But this was all temporary. As soon as the first group here broke under the weight of militia numbers, the soldiers would begin to sweep along the deck and would soon deal with them all. What did they hope to gain by preventing the militia from manoeuvring? What?...

  With a sinking feeling, Ghassan grasped the rigging by the main mast and hauled himself a couple of feet higher so that he could see over the fighting.

  “Oh, shit!”

  Nearby, one of his men looked around in surprise, only to be dispatched by a pirate.

  The merchant hulk, now fully ablaze, was being led around the stern of the pirate ship with ropes and kept at a safe distance with oars. Slowly, but with infinite menace, the roaring timber inferno was rounding a corner and bearing down on the bow of the militia ship.

  The pirates weren’t trying to take the ship; they were stopping the Wind of God escaping the oncoming flames!

  Ghassan dropped back down and brushed his dark curls from his eyes. He saw one of his lieutenants pull back from the action and grabbed him by the shoulder.

  “Simos? We need to break through to the captain and get that rudder turned. They’re bringing a fireship down on us.”