Death Flag

  Unfortunately, the first group that they came across that was doing anything other than sitting in around a fire while drinking and talking was a group of slavers. He felt his hackles rise as soon as he saw them, and he was practically bristling as they drew close. Erin must have picked up on his reaction because she silently squeezed him tighter where she still held him around his waist and gave him a small pinch. It was enough to keep him focused on the fact that they had more important things to deal with, but only just barely.

  The group of four men had a thin, emaciated slave with them, who wore a collar around his neck and shackles around his wrists that were tied together with a thin chain leash which was was held by the foremost individual. Just as Madison and the girls were about to walk by, the man in front shoved the gaunt man into the middle of the street, where he instantly collapsed to his knees, effectively all but blocking the path. All three suddenly drew up short, and Madison had to remember to make his eyes wander and not focus on what was in front of him so that he wouldn’t give away the fact that he wasn’t as drunk as he was pretending to me.

  “Oops!” the slaver declared, poorly feigning an accident. “Poor wretch just can’t seem to stay on his feet any longer.”

  Madison steered the girls away from the man, stumbling a bit as he tried to navigate them through what little bit of the path was left open to them.

  “Looks like you’ve got your hands full there, friend,” the man continued, undeterred by Madison’s seeming obliviousness.

  Madison looked sideways at him out of the corner of his eye. He already knew that this interaction was strange. Everything they had witnessed in the short time they had been there told him that everyone else should have left him alone. No one knew which group he belonged to, and no one wanted to interact with another group, so he had been counting on the fact that no one was going to bother him so long as he kept moving. But that also meant that no one was going jump in and help him if things came to blows either.

  The man grinned at him expectantly, and Madison knew he had to make a reply. Heaving a giant sigh, he mumbled, “What’s this? Don’t got time for this. Need to get back . . . Come on! Come on!” he grunted, much more loudly and irritatedly. He gestured for the man in front of him to move with one of his hands without ever removing it from Erin’s shoulders. “Move it!”

  “Easy, fellow,” the man said slyly, a toothy grin spreading across his face that exposed large gaps in a mouth full of stained, yellow teeth. “I’d just like to have a word with you, that’s all.”

  Madison noticed that other men started sidling around him in an obvious attempt to corner him so that he couldn’t run away. He rolled his head around from side to side as if he were taking the time to crack his neck before answering, but he was really looking around to see if anyone was watching. There were at least two other groups within eyeshot, though he couldn’t tell exactly how large each was, so he couldn’t risk starting a fight here without being discovered.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he continued when Madison didn’t immediately answer. “Things have been a bit strained around here, wouldn’t you say? I would. Now, I wouldn’t say that one group is any better than the other, right? Wouldn’t you agree to that? Now, some fellows here worship a goddess, and some men here make their living at sea, but they ultimately follow the wishes of the same goddess, right? And, well, we’re here to make a living as well, just like every other man.”

  Madison listened without ever picking his eyes up off the ground. He found a clump of mud there and focused on it for all he was worth, staring at it so hard that his eyes felt like they were going to start watering. He was honestly afraid that he wouldn’t be able to keep up his charade if he looked up and met the man’s gaze directly. He could tell that the slaver was angling at trying to figure out what faction Madison might belong to before he got around to making his move, and that meant he was likely more afraid of one than the other.

  “But that’s the problem, you see,” the man continued. “Things are so boring around here. Everything’s played out. And, well, this little venture here”—the man spread his arms wide as if gesturing to one of the world’s wonders—“has put a bit of a damper on our trade. There’s no fresh stock to be had, you see, and we’re always looking for prime specimens that we can take back east.”

  Madison grunted without ever looking up. The man was angling toward Shayna and Erin—just about the most awful move he could have made.

  “So, what do you say, friend? How about you share these two women with us in the nature of friendship and good relations, eh? Help spread some community appreciation. But, don’t worry, I can tell that you’re quite the shrewd businessman, and we wouldn’t want to leave you empty-handed. So, what say we trade you a flask of our finest wine, and you leave these two here with us for the night. What do you say?”

  Madison felt the two men behind him press in a little closer now that the hook had been cast out. They were making it clear, even to a drunkard, that there was no way the girls were leaving with him. One way or another, they were staying there for the night whether he liked it or not.

  He tilted his head to the side, finally looking up at the man who had just made him the most revulsive proposition he had heard in his entire life. Madison felt sick to his stomach even having to listen to him, and he felt dirty just being in the presence of these men.

  “No,” he said coldly and clearly.

  The man blinked once, and his grin wavered slightly before he recovered himself.

  “Surely you didn’t hear correctly,” the man began. “We’re offering you fine coin for these two women, but just for tonight. You’ve had your fun already, and you surely don’t mind sharing, do you? No, no. Of course you don’t. It’s in everyone’s interest for them to stay with us. Now, do you get it, friend?” He added that last bit in pointedly and with quite a bit of emphasis.

  “No,” Madison answered again. He finally looked the man straight in the eyes, and he knew that he couldn’t keep the fervent disgust off of his face completely, no matter how hard he tried. “Any man who touches these two will answer to the captain.”

  Madison had just taken a random guess at which group would frighten a slaver more, and he very much doubted that they had anything to fear from a group of destitute religious nuts, so he took a shot with the other. As much as he wanted to do something about the group threatening him, but pulling his sword and starting a fight would have been a mistake. He had to stay focused on finding Fox and Alyanna, and he couldn’t do that with an entire encampment trying to kill him. He didn’t know what set of rules they had in place here, but there was clearly some system of laws that was holding everything together and keeping it peaceful—there was no other explanation for their behavior. The last thing he needed was someone dragging him in on trumped-up charges of disturbing the peace or inciting a riot or whatever it was in this world.

  The man’s smile dimmed, but the two behind him didn’t make a move. “And who is this captain?” the man asked. Madison had clearly picked the correct group, but this guy was determined to press as far as he could with what he still considered to be a drunk sailor.

  “I am,” Madison answered, his mouth tugging upward in a cocky, lopsided grin. He felt something turn over in the pit of the stomach, like he had just answered a winning question correctly on a gameshow. He had absolutely no idea why he responded that way. It had just felt like the right thing to say at the time, and it had come out before he even thought about it. Now that he had said it, however, he knew that it was the correct one. He just didn’t know why it was.

  “What’s that?” the guy asked disbelievingly, as if he hadn’t heard correctly. “You’re a captain? A captain of what? I don’t think so, friend. Now, this is my last warning. Walk away and leave the girls here before you get hurt. I think that’s plain enough even for someone such as yourself to understand.”

  Madison glared at the man menacingly. “How about you go and fu—”

&
nbsp; “What’s going on here?” a voice roared so loudly that Madison’s retort was drowned out.

  Madison twisted around so that he could see what it was, and he found a group of men standing off to the side. It was one of the groups of pirates he had seen only moments ago, and they had clearly come to see what was going on. They were carrying several short clubs, and they weren’t being bashful about the fact that they were ready to use them at a moment’s notice if given the chance. He hadn’t expected anyone to take an interest in what was going on in the middle of the road, but it appeared that whatever distaste these two groups had for one another ran deeper than what he suspected. They weren’t willing to start the trouble themselves, but they were more than willing to back up someone if they thought it might be one of their own who was was caught in the middle of it.

  “Now, now,” the man said hastily, once more slathering that sickeningly sly grin across his face. “My new friend and I here were just having a conversation before you so rudely butted in. We were about to finish up a negotiation, as a matter of fact, and I would appreciate you fine gentlemen minding your own business and letting us go about ours. So, if you would—”

  “What business is that?” the man demanded. “What business do you have with him?” He was clearly talking to the slaver still, and Madison was glad of the fact that he wasn’t the one who had to answer that man’s question. It was a simple question with a simple answer, though Madison expected a dishonest reply, and the pirate’s tone of voice made it clear that he wasn’t going to believe it regardless.

  “If you must know,” the slaver said curtly, “this fine fellow and his companions were just agreeing to come partake in some of our finest alcohol as a gesture of goodwill between our two groups.”

  “Oh, there’s no need for that,” the sailor responded. “If this man wants to have a few drinks, we’ll be happy to have him to our fire. We’ve some of the sweetest rum north of the Sunset Isles, and we never mind sharing. Besides, there’s no ill will between us, is there? No need to patch what’s not broken.”

  “But—”

  The slaver continued with some argument that Madison didn’t listen to. He took the opportunity to finally step forward and around the man in the middle of the street while the focus was on someone else. There was only a little bit of road left to walk on, and it was something of a trick to do it without releasing his hold on the girls. He was clinging to them as much as they were him at this point, though his was mostly out of the need to remember what was more important.

  “Wait!” the slaver called out to him. “Don’t be in such a rush, Captain . . .? What did you say your name was, by the way?”

  Where there was a long lull, Madison reluctantly turned and looked over his shoulder at the slaver. The wretched man had a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, and he clearly thought he had just played a trump card by calling out Madison in front of the sailors. Madison knew that they had very little respect for anything or anyone else, but he also knew that there was no way that they had worked their entire lives on the seas with a group of men without learning to honor those who had earned the rank above them. It was the same way in his business back home: if someone said he was a foreman, it was for a good reason. There was no way these men would ever allow someone to claim that title and get away with it if it wasn’t duly earned, and the slaver was counting on it.

  Madison held his gaze for a long moment and then turned and started to walk away again. He only made it a few steps before the group of pirates called out to him as well. “Captain?!” the man called loudly in a gruff voice. “Who are you? Show yourself!”

  Madison continued along as if he hadn’t heard them, and several of the men came running. Just like before, Madison and the two girls were quickly surrounded in the narrow street. The handful of slavers moved to hem him in from the right as well, and he and the girls were soon encompassed by over a dozen men, all of whom suddenly wanted answers.

  “You’re no captain,” the barrel-chest pirated said, pushing himself through the ring of other men. He stopped just in front of Madison and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “No captain I ever met that walked like a sad drunk who wasn’t able to hold his liquor and who was too afraid to pick his head up. Never seen one who was afraid of a bunch of piss-ant slavers neither. It true what this scum is saying?” He twisted his fist around Madison’s shirt, pulling him slightly forward, forcing him to lean more heavily on the two girls for support. “You goin’ around tell lies, boy? Pretending to be someone better than you?”

  Madison had managed to keep his gaze down and, thus far, he had avoided looking directly at the pirates other than to sum up how many of them there were when they first arrived. His best bet had been to let them think that he was one of them so that they would fight the battle for him while he walked away untouched, but now that it had come to this, there was no way that was happening.

  So, he lifted his head up and stared directly into the man’s eyes, no longer bothering to pretend to be drunk or anything else. “Don’t,” he said coldly in a low voice. It was only a single word, but the threat was obvious. “Just walk away.”

  The man blinked, clearly taken aback by Madison’s demeanor. He had expected someone drunk just as the slaver had, and he wasn’t sure how to respond now that he was faced with someone who was alert and discerning. There was a sharp intake of breath from someone off to the left, and the sailor’s head swiveled toward him. “What?” he asked. “What is it?”

  The man there stepped forward hesitantly, his eyes locked on Madison. His eyes roamed up and down Madison’s face as if trying to figure out something, and he stopped dead in his tracks after only a few steps. “Holy shit,” he muttered, his eyes growing wide with surprise. “You’re supposed to be dead.” The man stumbled backward, clearly rattled by what he saw. “That ain’t no living man,” he said, a slightly crazed look in his eye. “He’s dead . . . He’s dead! You’re dead! We killed you!”

  Madison had no idea what he was talking about, so he just smiled knowingly and hoped that it was convincing. He had initially assumed that someone had recognized him, but the instant the sailor started talking about dead men, Madison had become as lost as everyone else.

  “It’s him,” the crazed man muttered, quickly becoming more and more incoherent. Then he turned and ran. He forced his way between two of his fellows and took off in a sprint, running away as fast as he could.

  Everyone stood and watched him go, and Madison finally made a move. He calmly removed his arm from around Erin’s neck, reached up and grabbed the man’s wrist where he held his shirt, and then shoved him away. Madison stared at him long and hard as a final warning, replaced his arm around Erin, and brushed past him, walking away. The circle parted for them, allowing all three to exit while walking abreast, and they strolled together away as casually as they had before the entire mess started.

  “What was that about?” Shayna hissed as soon as they were out of earshot.

  Madison shook his head slightly. “No idea. I understood what that creep was after, but those pirates? And the last guy? I don’t know. I guess he mistook me for someone he used to know. Sounds like he killed someone, likely betrayed him, and that’s who I look like. I don’t know, but I’m grateful to whomever it was. He just saved us a huge mess and a lot of heartache.”

  Erin lightly pinched him again on the back once again, but Madison didn’t have a clue what it was supposed to mean. And he didn’t have time to ask. They had already burnt a good bit of time wandering around, and that little episode had eaten up even more. If he was going to find Fox and Alyanna before Warren made it back, he was going to have to step it up. So, deciding that it was ultimately worth the risk, he finally turned them toward the center of the large camp. He had been sticking to the outer perimeter as much as he could while he scoped things out and tried to learn the layout, plus he had wanted to stay close to the forest in case they had to either run or fight their way out, but he was runn
ing out of time, and it wasn’t getting him anywhere closer to his goal.

  Things began to change before long, and it all happened rather suddenly. The roads that had been narrow and winding without any real direction suddenly grew wider and straighter and began to resemble city blocks. They had clearly been planned out, and someone had put a bit of effort into making sure that they were kept that way. At the same time, the tents started getting larger and were seemingly better constructed. They were generally solid canvas sheets now rather than a patchwork of colors and materials, and while they would never be considered lavish, they were a clear step up from the hovels he had seen before. Lastly, the farther they traveled, the fewer men he saw sitting around the fires. There were always a few present, but they weren’t loud and rowdy or rambunctious like those from earlier. These men were sober and somber, and it was readily obvious that more than a few scrutinized them as they walked along.

  “This is it,” Madison said quietly. “If we’re going to find either one of them, they’re going to be around here.”

  “What makes you so certain?” Shayna asked skeptically.

  “Just call it a hunch,” Madison answered. “Those men back there were paying way too much attention to where we’re going while trying not to make it look obvious. They’re interested in us for one reason or another, and I’m willing to bet it’s because there’s something around here that we’re not supposed to find.”

  “Like a missing lord whom they weren’t supposed to kidnap to begin with?” she asked quietly. “Or his missing daughter who is about to be shipped out to the great and mysterious goddess?”

  “Pretty much,” Madison answered. He stopped in the middle of an intersection and looked around. Everything around him looked more or less the same at this point, he could hardly tell one campsite from another, and he might as well have been lost in tent-town suburbia for the all the good it did him. “Wait, down there,” he said suddenly as something caught his eye. He instantly turned them in that direction and they continued on. He was also fairly certain that someone slipped out into the road behind them and began following them, which was encouraging in its own way. It meant that he had chosen correctly. They passed into a particularly-dark spot that was between campfires, and Madison hurriedly pushed them all off the road and in between two large tents. It was the darkness that had originally caught his eye, and he was more confident than ever that he had made the right move. They huddled together in the shadows between the tents, and watched as first one man and then another hustled past on the road.