‘Well, well,’ the giant boomed, putting his hands on his hips and looking around at his men theatrically. ‘The victor of the Great Sea War, no less. We are honoured, Lads – let’s show these Tarcun sailor boys the welcome they deserve!’
With that, his crew burst into a blood-thirsty roar, waving their weapons at the Tarcuns in a manner that left no doubt as to their intentions. They were a motley, fierce-looking lot, every one of them seemly armed to the teeth and yet, despite the imminent threat they presented, the Tarcun prince’s attention was distracted by a figure that moved forward to stand close beside the pirate leader. The way that her suit of fine, gold mail clung to the contours of her body like the scales of some exotic fish, had made it evident, even from some distance, that Tikuran’s companion was a woman. Now that the two vessels were only a ship’s length away from each other though, Ravian also saw that she was extraordinarily beautiful, the black patch she wore over her left eye somehow only adding to her dangerous allure.
At the same time, Tikuran seemed to become aware of the presence of a female on the swordship’s quarterdeck and he waved at his bellowing crew to be quiet.
‘And who might this maiden be?’ he asked, as his vessel drew parallel with the swordship.
‘Karalla, daughter of King Postus, King of Bolstenia!’ Lefia replied before anyone else on the Tarcun quarterdeck could speak.
The two ships floated only a stone’s throw apart in tense silence, the crew of each poised on their captains’ orders. Whatever was to happen next was in Tikuran’s hands, Ravian knew, and the pirate seemed to struggle for an eternity before coming to a decision.
‘Two noble houses on one ship,’ he finally said. ‘I am humbled to receive such a delegation. Allow me to come aboard and pay my respects in person.’
‘What do we do now?’ Lectus whispered to Ravian.
‘We play along, for the moment,’ Ravian whispered back. ‘We can’t prevail against the odds that this villain has stacked against us.’
‘You and no more than four of your crew are welcome to join me on the quarterdeck,’ he called to Tikuran.
The pirate admiral turned to his beautiful companion and the pair briefly conferred in low tones before he replied, ‘Very well! I shall come alongside.’
‘Get some men up here on the double,’ Ravian whispered to Godart. ‘If any more than five of them try to board, seize the leader – and the woman – and throw the rest into the sea.’
The Tarcun reinforcements arrived on the quarterdeck just as the pirate vessel nosed alongside, several of her crew reaching out to hold the two vessels together as their delegation stepped across. To Ravian’s surprise however, only Tikuran and his beautiful companion boarded the swordship.
Despite his broad smile and deep bow, there was a sinister aura about the pirate admiral, Ravian decided. Tikuran had black, shark-like eyes that seemed as bottomless as the ocean itself and, as he straightened up from his salutation, he towered more than a head taller than anyone else on the quarterdeck. A huge, curved Ezrenian sword swung at his side, his single, gleaming breastplate was the same ebony colour as his eyes, and a number of tiny, bleached human skulls were woven into his chest-length beard which, Ravian was sure, could only have been the remains of unborn children.
‘Welcome to my kingdom, Your Highnesses,’ the pirate declared, his eyes roaming over Lefia in a way made Ravian want to plunge his sword into them. ‘Please do accompany me to my humble abode where I can show you my full hospitality. Also, allow me to introduce my Chief Captain, Seweli.’
Seweli did not emulate Tikuran’s courtly flourish but merely nodded at the mention of her name and Ravian was transfixed by her black, velvety skin, full, voluptuous lips, and the way that her single, dark eye seemed to appraise him with knowing boldness. Then Lefia shot him an icy look and the Tarcun prince returned the pirate’s bow with a curt nod.
‘Thank you…Admiral,’ he replied, ‘but we have been blown well south of our intended course and we are keen to resume our journey home.’
‘Ah, yes,’ Tikuran responded. ‘The Zetine Wind. We only see gales like that once or twice a year but the gods preserve any ships caught off the coast when they blow. You must be very low on food and water – I insist that you return to the Shadow City with me to re-provision.’
‘The Shadow City?’ Lefia queried, speaking for the first time.
‘Indeed,’ Tikuran replied, turning to her with a dazzling smile. ‘The Shadow City is my home harbour and my headquarters. It is not far north of here and, if we set sail now, we can be there by nightfall.’
Ravian saw flurries on the water out beyond the reef entrance and realised that the sea breeze had begun to blow again. He had no doubt that, if he declined Tikuran’s invitation to accompany him to his lair, the pirate would force the issue and, while he wasn’t sure why his visitor was so determined to maintain his courtly façade, he knew that, for now, playing along was his only choice.
‘Very well, Admiral,’ Ravian said. ‘We shall be delighted to accompany you.’
The swordship rowed out of the reef entrance, then hoisted sail and set a course north as the pirate fleet closed in around them. Ravian didn’t fail to note that the escorting vessels, despite the rough appearance of their crews, hoisted their own sails with disciplined unison, and that they had no difficulty matching Sea Eagle’s cruising speed.
Tikuran and Seweli remained on the quarterdeck.
‘Frankly, Admiral,’ Ravian addressed the pirate, ‘I would have expected you to bring a bigger escort with you.’
Seweli seemed to glare at him but Tikuran smiled again – the huge man always seemed to be smiling, Ravian thought.
‘I could have, but would have been the point, Your Highness?’ he said easily. ‘One woman or four men – you could have taken us just as easily, and then what? As soon as we were killed, you would have been overrun by my fleet of cutthroats, and the world would have been rendered poorer by the presence of all of us.’
‘Or we could take you as hostage,’ Ravian replied, ‘and set our own course.’
Tikuran roared with laughter at this, and even Seweli smiled.
‘Clearly, you know little of pirates,’ the black-bearded giant told him when he had controlled his mirth. ‘There are nine captains out there who would like nothing more than see me dead, and forcing your hand would play right into theirs. Just try and sail away from them now and see how far you get!’
‘And your tenth captain?’ Ravian asked, deciding that it would be prudent to decline Tikuran’s suggestion.
The pirate turned to his female companion.
‘Seweli enjoys a bond with me that the other captains do not,’ he said.
‘I’ll bet,’ Ravian heard Lectus mutter under his breath from behind him.
‘A woman pirate captain,’ Lefia said, ‘must have to work very hard to maintain her authority.’
‘Seweli is from a long line of pirates,’ Tikuran answered. ‘She commands the respect of her crew as much as any man could.’
‘And does she not speak Chesa?’ Ravian asked.
‘I speak Chesa – it is the common language of our fleet,’ Seweli surprised the Tarcuns by saying, in a deep, rich voice. ‘But I prefer to keep my words for when I have something of matter to say.’
She looked directly at Ravian as she spoke, and the Tarcun prince had the extraordinary feeling that a secret meaning underlay her comment.
‘But, surely, Admiral,’ Lefia said, ignoring the other woman, ‘you are not from this part of the world?’
‘You are as observant as you are beautiful, Your Highness,’ Tikuran said, with another bow. ‘I have been on this coast for many years but, originally, I came from Ezreen.’
‘And how long ago did you leave Ezreen?’ Lefia asked, in far too friendly a manner for Ravian’s liking.
‘It seems like many lifetimes ago,’ the pirate replied.
They sailed on through the day, Ravian becoming increasingly annoyed a
t the amount of attention that Tikuran was paying Lefia and, even more, by the amount of enjoyment that she seemed to be taking from it. By contrast, Seweli remained silent and aloof although, at one point, Ravian thought saw her eying her admiral and the Bolstenian princess with a look that suggested that the statuesque piratess was no happier about the pair’s association than he was. Then, as the sun began to dip towards the sea, the eyes of all on board were drawn to the horizon ahead, where a massive flat-topped promontory began to steadily rise into view.
‘Ah, the Shadow City!’ Tikuran announced. ‘Set a course for the middle of the headland, Your Highness. The passage through the reef is wide and safe.’
Indeed, when they came to the reef entrance, they found that there was no detectable tidal flow and that it was wide enough to allow three good-sized vessels through in line abreast. Ahead of them, the bluff’s south-facing cliffs towered higher than any that Ravian had ever seen although, in their centre, the lower two thirds of the escarpment had collapsed to create a cave of mind-boggling dimensions. Then, as they sailed closer, they saw that the cavern contained a sizeable harbour and that, behind it, a small city ascended the rear walls of the enormous grotto, its lights beginning to twinkle in the gathering dusk.
‘By Delikas,’ Godart breathed as they sailed into the land’s cavernous maw. ‘You could shelter half the Tarcun Navy in here.’
‘Indeed you could,’ Tikuran agreed in a proud voice, ‘but don’t bother calling on Delikas here, Captain – the Shadow City has its own gods.’
As if in response to his words, a black cloud suddenly appeared at the very back of the cave and began to pour out above the city. It was, Ravian realised, the biggest swarm of bats he had ever seen.
‘We share the city with our kindred spirits,’ Tikuran announced. ‘Each night, they go out to feed and then, every morning, they return before sunrise.’
‘Now,’ he continued, turning to Ravian, ‘we need to organise your stay. You can put your ship alongside the first vacant jetty that you come to but, for their own protection, I must insist that your men stay on board. I will ensure that supplies are sent to your vessel but, in the meantime, you, Your Highnesses, will accompany Seweli and me to my palace as my guests.’
Again, Ravian saw, there was little that he could do but to acquiesce. He would just have to be patient – and as diplomatic as Tikuran seemed inclined to be.
Sea Eagle had barely tied up alongside an available jetty before four closed litters and their bearers appeared on the wharf. Judging from the assortment of other men lounging about the dockside area, Ravian decided, a closed litter was probably the most prudent way for them to travel and, indeed, as the bearers set off, the behaviour that he subsequently witnessed through the curtains of the litter confirmed the Shadow City as the roughest and most dangerous port he had ever visited. Drunk, armed men staggered, urinated and slept in the streets while rough, world-weary whores dispensed their services in doorways, window frames and against walls. The Shadow City roared noisily in the pursuit of every vice and stank terribly of every form of corruption and it was only as their convoy entered Tikuran’s palace, high on the slopes of the subterranean metropolis, that they found a haven of relative peace.
The pirate admiral’s abode, ringed by walls twice the height of a man, was easily the largest, most resplendent building in the Shadow City, its many levels of arches, balconies and towers striving, yet just failing, to touch the cavern roof. As the litter bearers lowered their charges and their passengers stepped out into the palace’s main courtyard however, Tikuran made a contentious announcement.
‘I do apologise, Your Highnesses,’ he told Ravian and Lefia, ‘but I must insist that you surrender your weapons before you enter my home.’
Quite apart from the prospect of being unarmed in such a dangerous situation, Ravian was loath to let their precious white metal swords out of sight.
‘Our swords are as much a part of our dress as our clothing,’ he replied. ‘I regret that I must decline your request.’
‘But I must insist,’ Tikuran said darkly – and Ravian thought that it was the first time that the pirate had stopped smiling.
‘Then I must insist that you return us to our ship,’ Lefia said before Ravian could reply.
No one spoke for a moment, the only sound coming from the licentious revelry beyond the palace walls. Ravian looked at Seweli and was surprised to see that she seemed to be wearing an expression of mild amusement.
‘Very well,’ Tikuran said, his own smile suddenly returning. ‘If it makes you more comfortable, then you may retain your arms. I wonder which you would prefer to surrender first – your sword or your clothing.’
He addressed these last words to Lefia, accompanied by yet another lecherous leer that made Ravian grit his teeth in fury.
Having been told that they would shortly be summoned to dine, they were shown to their quarters separately – Seweli escorting Ravian to a large room with a balcony overlooking the harbour, even as Tikuran whisked Lefia away to somewhere else in the palace. The Tarcun prince was concerned that they had been separated, although he welcomed the opportunity to speak with Seweli alone and, as he had suspected, she was more talkative away from her leader’s ears.
‘And you have been a pirate all your life?’ he asked her as they stood on his balcony and looked down on Sea Eagle in the harbour far below.
Night had fallen completely now, but the cavern walls and roof glowed warmly in the wash of torchlight from the city.
Seweli nodded.
‘My father was the pirate admiral before Tikuran,’ she said. ‘I was one of his captains when I was still quite young.’
‘And your father is now…?’
‘My father is dead.’
‘And it was not permitted that a woman should succeed him?’
Seweli gave him a long, level look before she replied.
‘The one who slew the admiral is the one who has taken his place,’ she said evenly.
‘Are you saying that…’
‘That Tikuran killed my father? Of course – otherwise he would not be admiral.’
‘But you are one of his captains,’ Ravian said, disbelievingly.
Seweli shrugged.
‘That and more,’ she replied.
Ravian had little doubt as to what the ‘more’ entailed.
‘But how can you…?’ he began.
‘Serve the man who killed my father?’ Seweli finished for him. ‘The rules here are not the same as in your world, Prince Ravian. Besides, Tikuran is different to other men. He has powers that you would never dream of.’
‘Huh,’ Ravian grunted dismissively. ‘And what do you think his intentions are with us?’
Seweli smiled.
It was a dazzling smile, Ravian decided, but it was the smile that an adult gives to a child who has said something particularly naïve.
‘Surely you noticed two ships from our fleet continuing north as we passed through the reef,’ she said. ‘One of those ships is heading for Bolstenia, the other for Tarcus. Both vessels bear the same message for the kings of those lands – ‘Pay our ransom, or the next ship will deliver the head of your royal loved one’. Don’t be concerned about your safety, Prince Ravian – for the moment anyway, you are worth far more to Tikuran alive than you are dead.’
Ravian briefly wondered what Postus’s reaction would be to the ransom demand for his estranged daughter, then decided that he was not too sure what Jeniel’s response would be either. Indeed, he suspected that his brother was as likely to send a squadron of swordships as he was to send any ransom payment.
‘And Lefia…um, Princess Karalla?’ he asked. ‘Is she also safe?’
Seweli’s smile vanished at the question, and Ravian knew that he had touched a nerve.
‘Tikuran appears to have…special plans for her,’ she said.
‘And my ship and my men?’
‘Your ship is valuable, your men less so. If they are lucky, they w
ill be offered the opportunity to join us. If not…’
‘Why are you telling me this?’ he asked her.
Seweli’s good humour returned and she laughed out loud. Once again, and despite the precariousness of his situation, Ravian was struck by how beautiful she was.
‘For a hero of world renown, you are very unworldly, Prince Ravian,’ she chided him. ‘I have told you nothing that is not perfectly obvious to anyone who understands the pirate way.’
‘Besides,’ she said, moving closer to him, ‘I think that I am beginning to like you.’
As Seweli’s intoxicating scent swirled about him in the warm night air, Ravian realised that it had been many months since he had been with a woman and, for a moment, his head swam with desire. Had he not given his heart to Lefia, he knew, he would not have been able to resist the piratess’s obvious, dangerous invitation. Now, however, he took a deliberate pace backwards.
Seweli regarded him with a calculating look in her eye.
‘So,’ she said, slowly nodding her head, ‘you are also under the fair princess’s spell. Do you really think that you can compete with Tikuran?’
Ravian did not reply.
‘Tikuran makes love as he gives battle,’ Seweli told him in a low voice, ‘with the power of three!’
With that enigmatic statement she was gone.
Ravian leaned against the balcony, looking down upon his ship, and wondered how he was going to extricate all of them from danger.
It was not long before a servant came to summon him to dinner and, after Ravian had followed the man down several flights of stairs to Tikuran’s dining hall, he found that Lefia, Seweli and he were the pirate admiral’s only guests. The setting was sumptuous – an intimate, arched room lavishly furnished with what, the prince guessed, would once have been the treasured possessions of the pirate’s previous victims. The food was delicious and the wine even more so, but Ravian was disturbed to observe that, not only was their host downing large quantities of the latter, but he was also encouraging Lefia to match him drink for drink. The princess was clearly the only one of his guests that the pirate had eyes or ears for, and he was visibly irritated when the prince tried to engage him in a conversation of his own.
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