The Briny Deep

by Simon Archer

  “So,” I began after we finished our first mug, “why are ye lookin’ for me?”

  Tabitha smiled, her teeth glinting in the dim light. “Because I like the cut o’ yer jib, mate, and me an’ me crew would like to sign on with ye.”

  I managed to keep my jaw from hitting the table. Binx wasn’t Bloody Bill, but she was a well-known pirate in the isles. This could be the boon that I’d been hoping for. Kargad looked from me to the Ailur and back as I nodded thoughtfully.

  “Ye be willing to accept my command o’ the fleet?” I asked.

  One of her ears flicked, and her tail lashed back and forth a few times. I could tell the thought didn’t sit well with her, but in the end, Tabitha gave a single nod.

  “Aye. I do.” Then she tapped the side of her muzzle and grinned. “But I need ye to do me a solid to cement this partnership.”

  There it was. Everybody wanted something.

  “What is it?” I asked flatly.

  The feline laughed. “Don’t sound so put out, me fine, green friend. What I’ve got to say will benefit all of us.”

  Kargad looked around and drummed his thick fingers on the tabletop. “This a good place to talk about it?”

  “‘Twould be nice to have more o’ my command here or my witch, at least, but I think we be safe enough,” I replied. “Nobody’s come through the door in the time we’ve been sittin’ here, an’ I don’t think Sharin there cares a rat’s arse what we do, now that ye’ve overpaid her.”

  He chuckled and shrugged while Tabitha smirked.

  “Ye probably be right,” she purred and poured another mug of rum. “So I’m guessin’ ye be interested?”

  “Yer right,” I said with a nod. “What do ye need, Tabitha Binx?”

  “Mmm,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Lots o’ things, but we’ll start with a tale o’ the sea.”

  “Which tale?” I ignored the obvious hint in her voice as I filled my own mug from the cask.

  “Ye ever hear o’ The Golden Bull ?” The feline woman leaned forward over the table, the fingers of her furred hands interlaced as she met my curious gaze.

  The Golden Bull. I furrowed my brow in thought. She was a treasure ship from the last days of Emperor Tomlin Corso, prior to Blackburn’s rebellion. The ship was traveling up from the southern lands along the coast or Erdrath when a storm hit and was never seen again. Aside from that little tidbit that every bloody sea dog in the archipelago probably knew, I didn’t know much.

  “I know as much as anyone does,” I grunted.

  Tabitha just grinned wider. “Well, then ye probably know she vanished in a storm nigh on forty years past.”

  Both Kargad and I nodded.

  “Good, good,” she purred. “Now, what few folk know is that The Golden Bull made it all the way out into the archipelago before she foundered on some shoals off one o’ the nameless isles. Her crew abandoned ship as she was takin’ on water. They meant to see about recoverin’ the loot once the storm died down, but when the skies cleared, she was gone.”

  She separated her hands and spread them wide. “Now, they searched about the shoal and the nearby deeps but found nothin’. It was as if The Golden Bull had sailed off into the unknown with her cargo o’ treasure. The crew, o’ course, decided to go native an’ vanish into the free towns, fearin’ retribution from the mad Emperor for losin’ his gold. Over the years since, treasure hunters have scoured the waters for any sign o’ that ship an’ her fortune, but nobody’s made the claim they found her.”

  As she finished, Tabitha settled back into her chair with a smug look on her feline face and took a long drink of rum.

  “And ye have, I take it?” I asked pointedly.

  “Not yet, Cap’n, but I’ve done the next best thing,” she replied. “I’ve found one o’ the crewmen.”

  “I ain’t sure how that helps,” Bardak interjected. “They didn’t see her sail off or go down in the storm, ye said.”

  “Aye,” she admitted, “but this man claims he did.”

  “And ye think he’s bein’ truthful, why?” I demanded. My initial excitement was wearing off.

  Tabitha’s tail lashed back and forth as she gave an exasperated hiss. “Me witch, Cap’ns. Did ye think me such a fool as to not put this rum tale to the test? Besides, the man carried a ship’s log and a trade bar o’ platinum stamped with Old Corso’s ugly mug.”

  “Fine, fine,” I said, raising a hand placatingly. “That’s some evidence, aye. Now, where have ye got this bastard squirreled away?”

  She laughed and crossed her arms beneath her ample breasts. My eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to her cleavage, if only for a moment before I lifted them to meet her gaze. There was a moment’s mischievous sparkle and a brief, teasing smile before she grew serious.

  “Ain’t like I’d be carryin’ him around in me hold,” she quipped. “He’s holed up in one o’ the free towns. I’ve actually talked to the old coot. Barmy as a loon, but says he knows where The Golden Bull sank, and my witch confirmed he spoke true. Thing is, the ship’s down deep, but that ain’t a problem for a man with a siren at his beck and call, aye?”

  I snorted. That explained why Captain Binx was looking for me specifically. Deepwater salvage was hazardous at best, even with witchcraft or dwarven deep-dive armor. Only natives to the seas could move around freely in the depths, like Ligeia or anyone she bestowed her kiss upon.

  “From the look on yer face,” Tabitha observed, “I’d say ye figured out why I came to ye.”

  “I did,” I said with a nod. “Ye be lookin’ for a partner o’ convenience, ‘til we raise this treasure, then?”

  “Oh, hells, no,” the Ailur exclaimed. “Me an’ me lasses are tired o’ workin’ alone, Cap’n. Trouble’s a-brewin’ in the archipelago, an’ methinks ‘tis time for those o’ us what enjoy our freedom to band together.”

  I glanced briefly at Kargad, who sat frowning while he nursed a mug of rum, then focused on Binx. Her whole demeanor practically dripped with sincerity, and frankly, that worried me. Unlike Bloody Bill, though, the captain of The Black Cat didn’t have a reputation for duplicity. Everything I’d heard of her painted Tabitha Binx as one of the few pirates who were true to their word, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t still wary.

  “What do you want out of this expedition?” Kargad asked suddenly.

  “Me?” Tabitha blinked and looked at him, ears perked. “A ship’s share. I ain’t even lookin’ for a finder’s fee.”

  “Generous,” I muttered.

  Her tail drooped for a moment, a barely perceptible flicker that most people wouldn’t have noticed. “Well, if ye don’t wish us,” she said and started to rise, “then so be it.”

  “I never said that, lass,” I interrupted, holding up a hand.

  “Nor did I,” Kargad added. “We just had questions.”

  “And I think yer answers cleared things up more than a bit.” I smiled faintly. “Ye’ll pardon a bit o’ caution on our part, aye?”

  Tabitha’s whole body seemed to perk up at our words. “Considerin’ ye shipped with Bloody Bill Markland,” she said with a smirk, “ye probably have an excuse.”

  “You can bloody well say that again,” Kargad grumbled, drained his mug, then he looked at me. “If ye’ve got this, Cap’n, I’ll be heading down to the docks.”

  “Give Mary and Shrike the short tale,” I told him. “I’ll seal this deal an’ call a captains’ meeting for morning.”

  “Aye.” The big orc rose and stretched. He hadn’t bothered to wipe away the blood that tracked from the cut over his nose down through the craggy lines of his face. It gave my old friend an even fiercer appearance than he normally had. “Good luck to ye.”

  I watched him flip another gold coin to Sharin and clump out through the batwing doors before my gaze went back to Tabitha. “Ye want a contract or a handshake, lass?”

  She smirked playfully. “Handshake’ll do me, Cap’n. Ain’t it how respectable pirates make their deals?”
<
br />   “True,” I replied with a laugh. Then I dusted off my right hand, spat in it, and held it out across the table.

  The other captain didn’t hesitate. She wiped her furry hand on her breeches, spat, and leaned across the table to slap that hand into mine.

  Tabitha Binx was a tiny woman. Her right hand fairly disappeared in mine as we shook solemnly. She was strong, though, and each of her nimble fingers bore a razor-sharp claw.

  “Welcome to my fleet, Captain Binx,” I pronounced. “Bring yer first mate an’ yer witch tomorrow so we can all palaver ‘bout this treasure o’ yers.”

  Her smile fairly lit up the room. “Thank ye, Cap’n Skullsplitter. We’ll be there with bells on.”

  A moment later, like the wind, Tabitha Binx was gone.

  That had certainly been interesting. It’d be nice to replenish the coffers, and an Imperial treasure ship would provide more than enough, just as Captain’s part of a ship’s share, to outright purchase the damned galleon Kargad liked to tease me about.

  I’d certainly show him.

  3

  Tabitha

  W ith a spring in my step, I sauntered away from the nameless little hole-in-the-wall bar where I’d had my first meeting with the one and only orc pirate, Bardak Skullsplitter.

  Considering the personality traits of most of the orcs I’d encountered, I was rather surprised that more of them hadn’t taken to raiding the high seas. At least, until I learned that they sank like stones if you threw them overboard.

  The disadvantage of being so big and strong, I suppose. This made Skullsplitter even more impressive. Most of his crew were orcs, along with a few humans and dwarves. I’d been watching them for a while as they refitted from the recent ruckus with Commodore Arde and The Indomitable .

  Word had it that Admiral Layne’s lapdog had met his end at the hands of Bardak’s little fleet, and I’d had to bend my own resources to confirm the tale. It hadn’t taken very long to prove its truth, which led me to Caber and my encounter with the orc himself.

  A pair of figures detached themselves from the shadows of an alley as I passed and fell in beside me.

  “Find him?” the first, a lovely girl with mismatched eyes asked. She was shorter than me, even, with raven-dark hair and pointed ears that betrayed a fey-born heritage.

  “Aye,” I said with a bright grin. “Thank ye, Mary Night.”

  The witch, Bardak’s witch, in fact, cracked a smile in return and sketched a playful bow as we walked towards the docks. “I could hardly refuse Ember’s invitation, and your information intrigued me.”

  “What happened?” the other woman asked, a pale, willowy thing with wide blue eyes and pale, strawberry blonde hair. This was my witch, Ember Spark, a strange woman with a gift for dreams and potions. She had been the one to suggest approaching Captain Bardak instead of following my own plan of skulking about and watching.

  “Cav an’ his boys made a move, started a fight they couldn’t win without cheatin’,” I replied. “I evened the odds a bit, then had a nice little sit-down with the Cap’n.”

  “Thank you for that,” Mary’s gratitude was evident in her voice. “Ye repaid my trust quite satisfactorily.”

  “‘Twas me intent,” I said with a twitch of my tail. “Ain’t going to have it said that Tabby Binx ain’t a cat of her word.”

  Mary nodded. “Did you get a meeting set up?”

  “Wouldn’t it be best if your own captain told you?” Ember broke in. “Especially if you do not wish him to know of your part in this.”

  “I’m a changeling witch,” Mary replied with a smirk. “A certain amount of knowing things comes with the territory.”

  I snickered when Ember scowled, discomfited, and answered Mary’s question, “Ember and I’ll be meetin’ with Bardak’s command crew come mornin’. Best ye get some sleep, Mary.”

  The fey witch barked a laugh. “Might depend on how much my Captain’s blood is up after his fight,” she teased with a wink, “but I’ll see you both after dawn’s light.”

  “Aye, aye,” I waved a hand in her direction.

  “Farewell, Sister,” Ember added.

  Mary dipped in a curtsey, then faded off down a side street, gone in the blink of an eye.

  “‘Tis a strange venture, already,” my witch observed.

  “Aye, but methinks ‘tis time The Black Cat sailed with allies. Especially since it ain’t long till Death mounts his pale horse,” I felt my fur raise a bit at my own words. Layne had quite the reputation for ruthlessness, and his monster of a ship was the talk of the free towns, even though it had yet to sail to war.

  In recent weeks, we’d encountered agents of both Milnest and the Admiralty thanks to Ember’s skill at sniffing them out. More than a few lay in shallow graves in the forests, or in chains at the sea bottom off the coast of several free towns. I wasn’t about to let word of my continued activities reach the Admiralty so long as I had any say in the matter.

  “Are you certain that this is the flag we should sail under, though?” Ember asked quietly as we walked along. “Many of the crew only stay because you are the captain. They have no loyalty to the orc.”

  “Nor do I, yet,” I confided. “Methinks he’ll be good to us, and there’ll be enough booty to go ‘round.”

  “Do you really think that the crew’ll put aside their vendettas to follow you, while you follow Bardak and his pipe dream?”

  I let out a hiss of frustration and whirled on Ember. “Why do ye question so?” I demanded. “There ain’t many pirates out there willin’ to poke ol’ Admiral Layne in the eye with a sea urchin, you know?”

  She nodded and stood her ground. “Aye, there’s Bardak, and there’s us, but it doesn’t necessarily follow that we’ll be good for each other.”

  “I guess we’ll bloody well find out, won’t we?” I grinned and turned back to walking. We weren’t far from The Black Cat, and I wanted to catch a nap before nightfall. There would be trouble enough to get into after dark, especially if the bartender decided to spill the beans on who killed a man in the door of her establishment.

  It wasn’t like there was much law in the free towns, but there was some, and it was extremely slow to set in motion. Like as not, Sharin wouldn’t bother calling anyone but a dead ringer, a poor sod who walked the streets ringing a bell and calling for folks to bring out their dead.

  Sometimes I felt bad for them, considering how many dead I’d made in my career, but those usually received a burial at sea. At least the dead ringers got to go through the corpses’ pockets.

  Ember and I paused at the foot of the gangplank, and I called up, “Ahoy there! Permission to come aboard!”

  It was an old ritual and not one commonly practiced, but I was kind of a stickler for it. My crew was all women, and there were plenty of rough folks who’d think to take advantage of us. This way, either my guards could get a good look at whoever wanted to come aboard, or they could shoot first and ask questions later.

  I didn’t care which. Some problems, though, you couldn’t just make go away.

  “Come on aboard, Cap’n!” one of the ladies I had watching the gangplank yelled out, and Ember and I swarmed up the narrow way to the main deck of The Black Cat .

  Jenny Nettles, my first mate, was waiting for me when I planted my paws on the deck. “Cap’n,” she whispered in my ear. “We’ve a problem.”

  Of-bloody-course. Whatever gods hated me couldn’t let me just have a happy day, could they?

  “What is it?” I asked in a low growl.

  “Drammond.”

  “Oh, fuck me…” I swore. “How in the hells did he find us?”

  Jenny shrugged. “He came up and asked to come aboard, Cap’n. Bri let him aboard since there weren’t any standin’ orders.”

  I sighed. Bri bought into Drammond’s romantic shite hook, line, and sinker. She couldn’t believe that I’d told him to shove off and kept playing at matchmaker. “Where is he?” I asked, reaching up to rub my temples. Hopefully, t
he bastard wasn’t in my cabin.

  “Your cabin,” my first mate answered. She’d picked up a nervous tic from somewhere.

  I closed my eyes and counted to ten before I said, “Jenny, standin’ order: Drammond Screed ain’t allowed on board. I don’t care if ye have to shoot him an’ leave him bleedin’ on the dock, but keep the sorry bastard off the Cat. Savvy?”

  “Loud and clear, Cap’n.”

  “Right then. Now, I need to go roust the man an’ kick him out o’ me cabin,” I muttered as I turned to stalk off. “Bloody hell.”

  Belowdecks, I shoved open the door to my cabin and pointed at the surprised human man rifling through my desk. “Out, ye gobshite, afore I have ye keelhauled.”

  Drammond Screed wasn’t an unattractive man. He was fairly young, with a neat beard the same hue as his ginger hair. His green eyes were bright and lively, and his pale skin tended to redden under the sun, which brought out his freckles. He wore a loose blouse of a sort of dingy white, tied at the cuffs with cast-off string, and dark blue pantaloons tucked into scuffed brown boots. A brace of pistols and a boarding axe rode at his belt.

  He was nimble and well-spoken, for a pirate, and he was also very, very good with his hands. That particular memory sent a shiver down my spine from the top all the way down to the base of my tail before I steeled myself. There was no way I’d allow the man back into my life, not when I had my eyes on something far better.

  A broad grin split his face. “Tabby!” he gushed and started forward, arms wide.

  I stopped him short with the double barrels of my custom-built flintlock. “That’s done, Drammond,” I said flatly, “an’ it ain’t comin’ back.”

  “At least hear me out,” he pleaded. “I’ve got news.”

  One of my ears twitched. Listening to Drammond was a slippery slope for me. We’d been together long enough for him to find just the right way to rub me to get me to start purring, and I didn’t want that.

  But, against my better judgment, I found myself saying, “Sit. Talk.” I kept the gun on him until he settled back with his skinny arse on the edge of my desk. He probably knew I’d shoot him if he went for my bed.