The Briny Deep

by Simon Archer

  Mary laughed and continued to search the captain of the assault force. She was taking long enough that he must have had something of interest. Moments later, my first mate stepped gingerly over the pool of blood from the dead warlock and joined us in the mayor’s office.

  “We’re down to clean-up, Cap’n. Binx an’ Kargad are handlin’ that bit, whilst Shrike, Ligeia, an’ Tiny guard the port,” he reported as his gaze wandered over the paralyzed men. “What happened here?”

  I regaled him with the story of the warlock, the captain’s surrender, and Mary’s subsequent ensorcellment of the prisoners. That was about where I was in the tale when my witch let out a loud, “Ah-hah!” and turned to me, holding up a leather roll-case.

  “What have ye got?” I asked.

  “Orders, I believe. ‘Tis warded, so I’ll need a bit of time to work it open,” she replied. “I suspect that the hex on it will destroy the contents if it isn’t opened properly.”

  I nodded thoughtfully. “Do what ye have to do, lass,” I said to her, then side-eyed Jimmy. “Can ye carry one o’ these blokes?”

  The thin sharpshooter returned a sour look, then nodded. “Aye, Cap’n,” he grumbled.

  “Fine. Take yon skinny one an’ drag his arse downstairs. I’ll get the other one an’ the captain.”

  We left Mary at the mayor’s desk, working carefully on the leather document case she’d found, and joined up with the rest of the crew and the townsfolk in the square. Apparently, they’d been fighting the Admiralty forces, but with little success, until our timely arrival had turned the tide. There were a goodly number of dead, a few captives, and lots of wounded on all sides.

  Brigh, who I’d assumed was the mayor, organized a few of her people to tend to the injured, rather pointedly leaving the marines and musketeers to their own devices under the watchful eyes of pirates and townsfolk alike.

  Daka stomped up to me before Jimmy and I had taken three steps into the square. “Cap’n,” he said with a salute. “Town’s mostly secure, an’ the cat told me to let ye know we captured two o’ the ships, though they’ll need a bit o’ refit.”

  Two more ships for my little fleet. Not bad, but I’d need captains for them, and we didn’t have time to waste. I’d see to arranging to get them fixed and stored here at Winemaker’s Run until I could recruit two new crews.

  “Good,” I said and shifted the captain from my shoulder. “Take this bastard an’ lock him in The Hullbreaker’s brig. Make sure there ain’t anythin’ he can hang himself with an’ set a watch on him.”

  “Who is it, Cap’n?” the young orc asked.

  “Commander o’ this bloody lot,” I replied and held out the paralyzed man. “I figure Mary’s hex will wear off in a bit, an’ I want this bastard under lock an’ key before then.”

  “Aye, Cap’n,” Daka exclaimed, then took the captive and hurried off.

  Jimmy and I dumped the other two with a clump of other captives sitting dejectedly under the watchful eyes of a couple of Tabitha’s crew and a familiar-looking older man.

  The fellow gave me a nod. “Captain,” he said. “I’d like to thank you for saving my wife and the town.”

  At my curious expression, he nodded in the direction of where Brigh was giving commands like an old hand as she put together teams to fight the fires that still burned in some of the shelled-out buildings. Winemaker’s Run was not in great shape, but it still stood, and the people still lived. Most of them, too, from what I could tell.

  “Gerald McCullum,” the grey-hair said and held out a calloused hand.

  I clasped it and nodded, my own hand engulfing his almost entirely. There was a great deal of strength left in his grip, too, and I grinned. “Bardak Skullsplitter,” I replied by way of introduction. “This here’s Jimmy Mocker, my first mate, an’ ye may have met a couple o’ the other cap’ns.”

  “Aye,” he said and grinned back. “Ailur lass and an orc almost as big as you. Tabitha Binx and Kargad Toothbreaker. You orcs have some colorful bloody names.”

  “Ye ain’t heard the half of ‘em,” I observed with a laugh. “I should go an’ speak with yer mate.”

  “She’ll see you’re taken care of,” he said, nodding slowly. “Thank you again, Captain.”

  “Interestin’ gent,” Mocker mused as we walked away. “He an’ his wife both ring familiar.”

  “Aye,” I said thoughtfully. “Think I heard that name, McCullum, when I served under the Ironhand, but I ain’t entirely certain.”

  “Nothin’ to do but ask, aye?” He grinned widely as I just shook my head.

  “Cap’n Skullsplitter,” the old woman turned to us as we walked up. “Ye left somethin’ in my office.” She slipped easily into something akin to pirate patois. “An’ she’s makin’ my folk nervous.”

  Mary. When my witch sank her teeth into a problem, very little could distract her, and she could scowl right along with the ugliest orc. I laughed.

  “She’ll be done soon, mayor, an’ maybe we’ll know why these bastards sought to ruin the winemakin’ trade around here.”

  “Aye, I’d like to know that.” Brigh snorted and looked up at me, her bright blue eyes narrowed. “What brought ye an’ yer crews to our rescue?”

  Jimmy laughed and muttered something I couldn’t make out.

  “Long story,” I replied. “Let’s just say that I’m on the side o’ the free towns an’ against the Admiralty.”

  “Way I hear it, ye’ve gone beyond ‘against,’ lad,” the mayor tutted. “Ain’t heard a word from Simon Arde since he went huntin’ ye, an’ then ye turn up, pretty as ye please.”

  “I wouldn’t call him pretty, mayor,” Mocker teased and then backed away as I glowered at him.

  “That’s ‘cause he ended up sunk on the other side o’ the Aigon Straits,” I said. “Feel free to spread those words around, if ye like.”

  The mayor nodded slowly and looked me over with a bit more of a discerning eye. “Ye served under Sturmgar Ironhand, didn’t ye? Back when he bore the Empire’s letter.”

  The Empire’s letter was a letter of marque, a writ of permission to engage in piracy and mercenary work against the enemies of Erdrath, without being in direct service to the admiralty. Both my mentor and I had held one during our time, but we both ended up renouncing our ties. He retired to run Jetsam, and I became a pirate after the Admiralty attempted to assassinate me.

  “Aye, that I did,” I replied as my eyes narrowed. Was she some enemy of my old mentor? Or maybe she was a friend?

  “Ha!” she exclaimed. “Thought so. I captained The Brave along with my husband Gerald, an’ we sailed a few sorties alongside Sturmgar’s ship, The Narwhal. Ye would have been just a lad at the time.”

  I closed my eyes for a moment, then grinned broadly. I did remember them! The Brave had been part of the fleet on my very first raid into Milnian waters.

  “I’ll be damned,” I said. “It’s been bloody years, and ye both made yer landfall here?”

  “Aye, aye!” Brigh chortled. “The Brave went to our daughters, an’ we learned how to make wine. Within five years, we were runnin’ this place.”

  I rubbed my head. Had it really been that long? Time certainly flew out here in the archipelago, and I’d kept myself busy ever since I left Sturmgar’s command to take over The Hullbreaker. The war with Milnest heated up, and there had been little time to catch up on news and see what had happened to old acquaintances.

  “Congratulations, aye,” I said to her. “Ye an’ Gerald happy here?”

  “Up ‘til today.” She grinned. “But we’ll be happy again, I’m sure. What can ye tell us about what’s got the Admiralty all riled against the free towns?”

  “Long story,” I spat, “but the gist is this: Admiral Layne wants to take the place over, an’ it ain’t under the Empire’s orders, no matter what the bastard says.”

  “Where’d ye hear that?” Brigh demanded.

  “Commodore Arde,” I replied. “Just before I killed him.”
>
  She let out a long, low whistle. “Explains why we keep hearin’ news o’ spies an’ saboteurs from ships comin’ through. Guess they wanted to up the ante, here. Sorry sacks o’ shit.”

  “What do ye plan to do with the prisoners?” Jimmy chimed in. I’d almost forgotten he was lingering around.

  The mayor shrugged. “Likely put ‘em to work rebuildin’ what they knocked down an’ burned. Keep ‘em under close watch. I ain’t the kind to just kill ‘em in cold blood. That’d give the Admiral another reason to come after us.”

  “He’s got all the reason he needs already,” I said, shaking my head. “Once The Pale Horse is ready to sail, he’ll be squeezin’ the towns and the free captains for all he’s worth.”

  “I’ll put the word out, then,” Brigh crossed her arms and looked, well, cross. “We’ll show him that we ain’t going to bend our knees to a tyrant, human, elf, or whatever.” She looked up fiercely at me, and I couldn’t help but grin. No wonder Sturmgar had liked this woman and her mate.

  “Captain!” The voice that called me was Adra’s. I was surprised for a moment, but she had likely come ashore with Kargad’s crew.

  Brigh looked from the shaman to me and smirked faintly. “We’ll talk more, Cap’n,” she said. “Me an’ mine want to meet with ye before ye sail again.”

  “O’ course, mayor Brigh,” I gave her a salute and turned to walk over to the shamaness. “What do ye need, lass?”

  The notch-eared, tuskless she-orc met my gaze with a curious intensity in her dark eyes. “We need to talk, Splitter of Skulls,” she muttered. “Come with me.”

  10

  “ J immy!” I bellowed to my first mate. “Ye be in charge ‘til I get back. Apparently, I will be needed for somethin’.”

  Mocker looked at me for a moment, then Adra, and nodded. “Aye, Cap’n,” he called. “I’ll have everyone wait on ye.”

  I hoped this was as important as the tuskless shamaness made it out to be as she maneuvered me away from the town square towards the outskirts of Winemaker’s Run.

  “What’s this about?” I asked in Targik, one of the native tongues of orcs, when she wasn’t precisely forthcoming with an explanation.

  “Your powers awaken further, Splitter of Skulls,” she replied in the same language. “I felt the ripples in the wind and water even aboard Kargad’s ship.”

  Adra waved out in the direction of the harbor. It was still early in the day, and black smoke rose in columns from where at least one ship burned. She must have sensed whatever happened when I killed the Imperial sorcerer. Wind and water had gathered to me in response to my anger and my need. I had thought it was something of Mary’s doing, but… was I of the mystery blood of the orc tribes? My clan had a shaman, all the clans of all the tribes did, but I wasn’t descended from her.

  She led me further afield in thoughtful silence, past the border of the town towards the peninsula that served as the southernmost protective lee of the harbor. I paused and gazed out to see what my fleet had wrought.

  My own ship was docked at the largest pier, which had sagged a bit under the impact. She seemed little the worse for wear from here. Adjacent to The Hullbreaker was docked The Black Cat , and further along Sirensong. Shrike’s ship The Wasp rode at anchor near the harbor entrance, while two other ships floated, or rather listed nearby. There was no sign of Tiny, Ligeia, or any of the other ships of the Admiralty.

  Well, there was a significant amount of wooden flotsam here and there, and the topmost spar of a mast and crow’s nest stuck up out of the water at a jaunty angle. I smirked to myself in satisfaction. We’d made a good showing of ourselves, outnumbered and outgunned as we were. This was a good start.

  Adra elbowed me in the side. “Are you listening?” she asked sharply.

  “Not really,” I replied with a snort and shook my head.

  The shamaness let out a hiss and rolled her eyes. “You called on the air and water, did you not?” she asked.

  I nodded and kept my mouth shut.

  “Is this the first time it has come to your call?” she pressed.

  Was it? My mind drifted back a bit over the years and the many battles I had fought. I’d been able to read the movement of sea breezes and storms and currents ever since I first set foot on a ship. Even as a young orc, the coast and the sea had called to me. I had been something of a disappointment to my clan since we weren’t seafarers, but I fought well enough to earn my own place and their respect before I left to follow the call of the water and the open sky.

  “I’ve always been able to understand what they wanted to say,” I answered. “I can tell direction and distance without instruments, and I don’t need maps once I’ve seen a place. As for having the spirits of wind and water answer me? I don’t know. If they ever did, I wasn’t conscious of it.”

  “There is one way to find out the extent of your abilities,” Adra mused. “It will also awaken them further. Do you wish this?”

  Why wouldn’t I wish it? Well, there was one reason. Any kind of magical power came with a cost, especially when it was granted by things such as spirits or demons. Shamans sometimes bore physical marks of the pacts they made with the elementals and ancestor spirits that granted them their magics. Sisterhood witches were much the same, though they often paid for their hexes and spells with sacrifices of other kinds.

  “What will it cost me?” I asked solemnly. I needed to know everything I could before I made a decision that might hurt my crew and my cause. Magic would be all well and good, but if I were unable to wield it properly, it would be useless.

  Adra paused and turned to me, her eyes locked with mine. At that moment, I felt my soul laid bare under the shamaness’ gaze. I couldn’t pull my eyes away, even if I wanted to. For just a few seconds, I was a prisoner in my own meaty frame, unable to move, blink, or form words. Her mouth worked silently, forming words I could neither hear nor understand, then her head cocked as if she listened to an answer.

  When it passed, I took an involuntary step back, and my lips pulled back from my tusks in a snarl of challenge as I clenched my fists. Adra just cackled as she grinned up at me, the gaps in her teeth where her tusks had once grown seemed even more prominent to me. I took a deep breath to calm the sudden, violent urge I felt in the face of this perceived challenge to my strength.

  “You have already paid the price the elementals demand,” she told me, “though you do not recognize it.”

  So this was an elemental gift I bore. “What was the price, then?”

  “You do not know, Captain?” the shamaness asked as she turned away and started walking once more.

  I took a few quick steps to catch up. “Not really.”

  “You can never dwell long on land. Always, you must keep moving.” She looked sidelong at me. “Ever since you first set foot on a ship as a stripling, your eyes always look to the horizon, and you only stay on the islands long enough to fix your ships and supply your crew. The sea and sky are your home now, their gifts are yours, bought and paid for, but you must awaken them and learn how they are used.”

  Her words rang true. Even after a few days in port, I would be antsy, eager to sail out and feel the roll of the deck and the song of the winds. The sea called me, and the horizon drew me ever forward. I could always find my way, and Ligeia’s gift of water-breathing neither frightened nor amazed me. Once I had grown used to it, the depths below the surface felt as much a home to me as the open air, and I could swim more easily than any other orc I’d ever known.

  I looked off out to sea. The sun was already low on the horizon, painting the sky in rose and pink behind the light scattering of clouds. How long had we been walking, now? It didn’t feel like a long time, but we’d joined the fray around midmorning, propelled by conjured winds and heaving backs.

  “What must I do, then?” I asked, walking over the rocky beach to where gentle waves lapped against the shore.

  Adra perched on a boulder beside me, squatting on her haunches with her long toes
gripping the stone. “You must learn to feel the call of the elements more deeply than ever,” she replied after a long moment of silence. “They dance around you and wait to come at your need, but you never truly talk to them or command them.”

  “Command them?” The words felt strange as they left my mouth. Shamans bargained with the spirits of the dead, of the elements, and of the plants and animals. I had never heard that they commanded them.

  “Not all spirits out there are friendly, Splitter of Skulls,” Adra replied. “They are like a pirate crew, yes? Individuals all, and out for themselves, but usually willing to work towards a common goal.” She gestured out to sea. “Many elementals dwell there, many of the dead, and many spirits of living things. Like those of us who make our homes on land, they each have goals of their own.” Then, she raised both hands to the sky. “The air dances with life, it gives and takes. It spawns gentle breezes and thundering gales, duels the land and sea with bolts of lightning, and flies where it wills. A shaman brings order to all these things, by diplomacy and agreement… or by force of will.”

  Adra dropped her arms and turned to face me. “You have their attention, for now. It must be kept if you are to retain even the smallest of your gifts, and the spirits grow impatient.”

  “Let’s get on with it, then,” I told her. Just those few words made up my mind. I needed all the power and all the allies I could muster if I were going to face Admiral Justin Layne and The Pale Horse . Where I hadn’t felt it before, I had grown worried about my current course and about all the people who looked to me. I wanted to protect them, support them, and lead them to a glorious victory over the Admiralty and its growing campaign of oppression.

  Winemaker’s Run was only the first of their targets if it even was that, and I doubted it would be the last.

  “Lie here, then,” Adra told me and gestured to the point where the land, sea, and air met. Gentle waves lapped at the shore, the water pale with foam and cloudy with sand.

  I gave a nod and walked out into the chilly water, then sat and lay back, my large feet fully submerged and my head on the sand. The water reached up to wet my hair with each toss of the waves. Adra squatted down next to me and put a warm hand on my forehead.