The Briny Deep

by Simon Archer

  “Ye wish to show me something, don’t ye?” I asked, eyeing Ligeia as we left the island behind and entered the open sea.

  She nodded but said nothing yet. Her eyes were fixed out to sea where, distantly, the moonlight illuminated the dark outline of another of the many islands of the archipelago. I leaned back with my right arm resting behind her, and after a few minutes, she relaxed and snuggled against me.

  “We have had little time together, I think,” Ligeia said softly.

  “We’ve both been busy with our duties,” I observed, slipping out of my affected patois. “Besides, I wouldn’t force you to stay in the air any more than you’d force me to stay beneath the waves, gift or no.”

  “True,” she murmured with a nod, her voice barely audible over the rush of the wind. “I appreciate thy courtesy, Bardak, though it does not cure loneliness.”

  “Do you wish to stay with me, then, or leave to be with your own folks?” I asked. While I’d hate to see her go, I didn’t want her to feel caged. “Our deal is done if you so wish. Though I’d miss you terribly.”

  “Even with thy witch?” She turned her head to look sidelong at me.

  “She’d miss you something awful, too,” I said and chuckled. “Everyone would, and most especially your Captain.”

  She blinked both sets of eyelids as she twisted fully around to regard me. “Would thee like me to spend more time aboard the ship?”

  I frowned thoughtfully while my fingers wandered across her bare shoulder. “If you wish,” I said at last. “I do love you, Ligeia, and I do not wish to see you in discomfort of any sort.”

  Damn me, but I’d just made two admissions of love in the span of a week or so. What in the hell were these girls doing to me? Not that I really had any complaints. It was nice to see my clan grow.

  The siren’s eyes went wide, and she blinked slowly at me. “I… love thee, too, my Captain,” she said slowly, savoring the words.

  Tiny chose that moment to lift his head and let out a bellow. Ligeia said something I didn’t quite understand and grabbed onto me, then we were back underwater as the Dragon Turtle dove. Water pressure slammed the both of us back against the rocklike shell of the monster, which knocked the wind out of me and made taking my breath of water easier as I gasped.

  We descended sharply into darkness. This was one of the cracks between the shelves upon which the islands rested. Shining fish darted out of the Dragon Turtle’s path as we descended.

  “I thought you might want to see more of what is below,” Ligeia’s voice, oddly pitched to travel through the water, reached my ears.

  I nodded. Speaking underwater was painful for me, even with the siren’s gift that allowed me to breathe down here. She smiled back at me and held tight to my arm. It was a whole other world in the deeps, populated by shining fish that flashed in a darkness that even my eyes struggled to pierce.

  Other things loomed, too, deep-sea creatures that barely, if ever, saw the light of day. Some of these looked fearsome, too, with long, sharp fangs and gaping jaws. Tiny seemed to strike fear in even these monsters, though, and they gave us a wide berth.

  Off in the distance, I saw the sparkle of lights and pointed. Ligeia nodded and said one word. “Sahagin.”

  Tiny turned off before we got too close to the lights, but there was a definite sense of a city or something constructed out in the darkness of the deeps. I craned my neck and twisted to watch for as long as I could, fancying that I saw shapes swimming between us and the glimmering lights. So these were the same sorts of creatures, the fish-men, who had attacked us on our voyage to Tarrant several months back. I had never imagined that they lived in something akin to cities or towns built down below the surface of the sea. This implied that the things were intelligent and that their attacks were more than mere predation.

  Did they defend what they saw as their territory? How much did they know of us from the more amphibious creatures of the deep like the sirens, or from the merfolk who traded with those of us on land?

  Once the lights disappeared behind us, I looked questioningly at Ligeia. She pointed up as Tiny began to ascend, and it wasn’t too long after that we broke the surface, and I took a deep breath of the cold, clear, salt air.

  “I thought you might be curious, my Captain,” the siren murmured. “These creatures dwell in the deeper reaches and claim those depths as their own, save their belief that the water directly above one of their colonies belongs to them all the way to the surface.”

  “Ye seem to know a great deal,” I observed. “Can we talk to them?”

  “Perhaps,” she replied with a slow blink of her eyes. “Though they seem to care little for affairs on land and, well, are somewhat alien, even to me. Do you wish me to try?”

  “Not yet,” I replied, “but soon. Now, let’s get back to The Hullbreaker and get some sleep. Would you join Mary and me?”

  “Of course,” she answered, perking up a bit. “I think I should prefer to sleep in your company tonight.”

  “Yer always welcome, lass,” I said. “An’ ye don’t have to ask or wait for an offer.”

  “I think I will take advantage of that more often, then,” she said softly and smiled a more relaxed smile at me. I didn’t care that it showed her frightening teeth. To me, they were beautiful.

  14

  T he whole town was quiet when I left The Hullbreaker the next morning to go in search of the Mayor. I had slept well, in a tangle of limbs with both my witch and my siren, and woke early. That was the advantage of not drinking myself unconscious the night before. Neither of the women had stirred when I crawled out of bed and dressed before heading out on deck.

  It was a chilly morning. The sky overhead was grey with clouds, and a heaviness hung in the air along with a faint tang of smoke from the fires of the previous day. My stomach growled audibly. I hadn’t eaten much yesterday, and my belly was letting me know. With a sigh, I went back belowdecks to the galley and stole some dried meat and a couple of apples from Jogrash the cook’s stores. He was snoring away in his hammock, stretched over the charcoal stove when I slipped in and out and returned to the main deck with my booty.

  I devoured the meat ravenously and chased it with the two juicy, slightly overripe apples. It was enough to take the edge off, but I figured I’d head back into town and see if any bakers or taverns still had something to fill out the corners.

  With a grunted greeting to the guards watching the gangplank, I clumped my way down to the listing dock and headed off into Winemaker’s Run. The streets were surprisingly empty, or maybe it wasn’t that surprising. Most of the town had been celebrating our victory last night.

  I needed to talk to the captive, but I wanted Mary and Ligeia there, at least. I’d meant to do it last night, but my mind had been awash in other concerns, not the least of which was my awakening abilities. My mind was all over the place, and I didn’t like it. Usually, my focus was as razor-sharp as the blade of my axe, but not lately. The concerns of my fleet and the changes I saw on the horizon were always at the forefront of my mind, and the things I’d seen in the visions shown to me by the elemental spirits weighed on me.

  My walk through the town was quiet, but I did manage to find a small bakery tucked away, not far from the town square. The damage from the fight with the Imperials was still more than evident, as was the additional damage from the celebration last night. A few people were curled up asleep in corners and tucked away under makeshift tables.

  A young woman eyed me nervously as I entered the small shop to the chime of a tiny bell. Immediate recognition flashed in her eyes, and she smiled.

  “Good morning, Captain. How may I help you?”

  I took a deep breath of the delightful scent of baking bread and sweet pastries. “What would ye recommend, lass?” I asked. My stomach growled again. The meat and apples hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as I would have liked.

  “Do you wish something light, sir, or something filling?” She questioned as she looked me up
and down. “From the sound of things, I’d say filling, yes?”

  “Aye, definitely filling,” I replied. The scent of the place made me ravenous.

  The woman grinned and nodded. “Thought so,” she said as she disappeared into the back of the shop. A few minutes later, she returned with a tray of small, golden-brown loaves that she placed atop the counter. “There. Have a few, Captain. On the house.”

  I picked one of the warm rolls and popped it in my mouth. They weren’t really that big, after all. The bread was soft and rich with butter, and inside was some kind of lightly-spiced, tasty sausage. I paused and felt a smile grow on my face as I chewed.

  “Good, yes?” the baker asked with a smile.

  I nodded and finished the one, then reached for another. My stomach wanted more.

  “Take your fill.” She smiled. “You saved Winemaker’s Run, so this is the least I can do.”

  “What’s yer name?” I wanted to know as I picked up another sausage roll.

  “Anna,” she replied with a faint blush. “This is my shop.”

  Once again, I nodded. “Nice to meet ye, Anna. As ye likely know, I’m Bardak.”

  Anna looked down at her hands on the worn countertop. “‘Tis nice to meet you, too, Captain Bardak.”

  I finished the second roll and picked up a third. These things were filling as well as tasty, and it was too bad they’d likely not keep aboard ship. That was the problem with the best food, and even orcs liked tasty things once in a while. Sure, we could eat damn near anything without getting sick, but that didn’t mean we liked it.

  “I’d happily replace my ship’s cook with ye, lass, but I think yer art would suffer. Ye’ve definitely given me a reason to come back to this town, though.” I popped the third roll in my mouth and savored it, letting my eyes drift half-closed.

  “Thank you for the compliment, Captain,” Anna looked down at her hands again. “I just wish to provide the best breads that I can, and it seemed like a good idea to bake some with sausages and other meats inside. You aren’t the only one to try them and like them.”

  “Have ye got a name for them?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I hadn’t thought to call them anything aside from meat rolls.”

  I grunted. It was a fair name, if not the most creative, and quite accurately described the small loaves in question. “Well, baker Anna,” I said. “I’ll spread the word o’ yer meat rolls about on my travels. Ye’ve quite sold this old orc on their virtues.”

  “You flatter me, Captain, but I’ll keep baking.” Anna laughed and waved a hand at me. “Take another for the road, though.”

  “I will.” I grinned and nodded to her before picking out another roll and stepping back out into the cobblestone streets.

  It was still quiet, though the sun was now fully risen above the distant horizon. The whole town must have ended the night in a drunken stupor, save for a handful of people who’d risen early to bake or go about their business.

  Back in the square, a few early risers started cleaning up the debris and kicking awake the sleeping drunkards scattered about the place. It surprised me to see Brigh, the mayor, up and around and looking bright and cheerful.

  “G’mornin’, Cap’n,” the old woman called.

  “Mayor Brigh,” I said with a nod.

  “Who be in charge o’ the kit o’ yer whole damn fleet?” she asked.

  “I keep those books, or my first mate,” I replied slowly.

  “Have ye a list o’ what yer wantin’?” she continued.

  “Aye.” I reached up and tapped my temple. “It’s all right up here.”

  “A good head on yer shoulders. I like that.” Brigh nodded. “Good, come with me, then.” She started to totter off in the direction of the hall.

  I followed, and not too much later, Brigh and I were leaned over a ledger in the mayor’s office. “In addition to the supplies, I’d like to load yer holds with wine casks, Cap’n.”

  “Nay, mayor.” I raised a hand to check her as she gushed on about how we saved the town. “We’ve been thanked enough. Yer offer of food and stores is more’n enough. We don’t need trade goods, just victuals to keep us going.”

  “Right, right,” she trailed off. “Ye gave me yer list, but I feel it ain’t enough reward.”

  “Ye be a generous soul, Mayor, an’ I thank ye for wantin’ to reward us more, but it ain’t needed.”

  Brigh sighed and closed her eyes for a moment before looking up at me. “Tell ye what, Cap’n. In addition to the supplies for ye, accept my personal thanks. ‘Twas my life ye saved, after all.”

  “Ye be quite welcome, Mayor,” I said with a grin. “An’ full glad I am to meet ye.”

  She coughed and shook her head. “Alright, I’ve a question, then.”

  “Mayhap, I have an answer, then,” I said with a smirk.

  “What do ye plan to do with the Imperial?” Brigh asked, leaning forward a bit.

  “Ask him a few questions, then maroon him someplace off the usual lanes,” I replied. “I ain’t the sort to break promises.”

  “If there is any help that Winemaker’s Run can offer, let us know,” Brigh smiled faintly. “An’ let us know what ye might find out if ye please.” With that, she drummed her fingers on her desk for a moment. “We want to help, an’ I think all the free towns may join ye.”

  That was quite the thought. If all of the free towns rallied against the Admiralty, it would definitely force Layne’s hand and might even attract the attention of Emperor Blackburn.

  A lot would depend, at that point, upon what the Emperor’s true goal was for the islands of the archipelago. Would the might of the Empire turn on the Admiral or on us? I didn’t have an answer to that question.

  “There is, in fact, mayor,” I said thoughtfully. “I’d have ye refit the two Imperial ships we captured, and hold them in trust for me ‘til I return with captains and crews for them.”

  She looked up at me with her eyes bright and a smile on her face. “Aye, lad. We've got the resources and the space. Hells, I might be able to find ye the people ye need.”

  “Thank ye,” I said to Brigh. If she and her husband could put together a pair of crews and recommend some possible captains, I’d happily accept their help. “I’ll have my first mate see to the stores ye offer. Spread the word o’ these attacks, an’ that I’d like a word with all the privateers an’ pirates sailin’ these parts. Ain’t likely it’ll happen soon, but with Bloody Bill gone, there needs to be another chief o’ the pirates.”

  “An’ ye mean to nominate yerself, aye?” Her eyes sparkled at the notion.

  “I can’t say I want the bloody job,” I admitted, “but I don’t see any other right bastards stepping up, an’ we need to be organized to protect ourselves. Maybe I’d do it best, or maybe there’s somebody else out there that would. Who knows?”

  “Ye did right by Winemaker’s Run, Cap’n Bardak, an’ we’ll support ye. Now, ye probably have better things to do than let me talk yer pointed ear off, so be off with ye. I’ll see ye before ye leave port, anyway.” Brigh smiled and waved me off.

  I gave her a salute and stalked out. My imagination ran a bit wild with the possibilities of taking Bill’s place as the pirate king, though it was mostly an empty title. Perhaps I’d be the orc to actually give weight to it. What did I have to lose, really? I was already a hunted man. All of my crews would hang if the Admiralty managed to catch us, so this was our best option.

  Back at my ship, I stopped by my cabin to find Mary and Ligeia up and devouring a breakfast of fruit, cheese, and salt pork.

  “Would ye be interested in talkin’ to the prisoners with me?” I asked pointedly.

  Mary nodded, having just taken a bite of breakfast, and held up a hand with forefinger extended.

  “I would be happy to help,” Ligeia cocked her head curiously. “What would ye have me do, my Captain?”

  “Scare the devil out of the poor bastard, I expect,” Mary added after swallowing. She gr
inned up at me. “Right?”

  “Aye, lass. Ye have the right of it,” I replied with a grin as I leaned against the door and watched the two of them. “Finish up yer meal. Hardly anyone else is awake, an’ I’m rather surprised ye both are.”

  “I didn’t drink nearly as much as ye might thing.” Mary locked eyes with me and smirked playfully. “So, what was on your mind that you were not interested in my company?”

  “He did not take advantage of me, either,” Ligeia added.

  Mary looked between the two of us in disbelief, then focused on me once more when I didn’t immediately answer. “Spill, love. Something happened twixt you and Adra, did it not?”

  “Aye, it did, but likely not what ye think,” I replied. “Strange things have been happening around me, and she thought I might have a talent for speaking with elementals and spirits.”

  “I suppose she was right?” Mary nibbled on some more cheese and kept her eyes on me.

  “Aye. She helped me on a vision quest into the spirit world, It seems to have awoken my gift and also showed me some things.” I sighed and shook my head. “I saw The Indomitable rise as a ghost ship and gazed at the magic bound into the hull of The Pale Horse . In both cases, ‘twas like I was there, though I was only a spirit carried on the wind and in the currents.”

  I reached up and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “I can tell ye more, but suffice to say, I feel we have little time. All the same, I do not wish to frighten the crew, so this must remain between us for now.”

  “If you wish,” Mary said slowly. “I suspect Adra knows, as well?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “Maybe she followed along on the visions, or maybe not.”

  Mary nodded her head and gazed off into the middle distance for a few minutes, pondering something. At long last, she said, “We can fight a ghost ship, but I’ll need to make some preparations.”

  “Whatever ye need, lass,” I said. “Now, if ye both are ready, let’s go have words with our prisoner.”

  15