Goblin Rogue

by Gerhard Gehrke

  Spicy thought about the three gold notes he had given the woman and the empty billfold. Goldbug was right—they hadn’t owed the woman anything. But for some reason her tale of being abandoned had struck a nerve. Spicy had felt a pang of guilt he was only now starting to understand. The perfume shop owner had left his wife to go with Alma on a business venture. Had the shop owner known what type of dangerous people he was dealing with?

  They now had four people to find. The shop owner’s wife had even offered a description of her husband. But the trail led to Pinnacle, the one place Fath had told him not to go.

  There had to be some other way to get Fath and the others out of harm’s way. It was time to abandon the chase. But he realized Alma wasn’t just looking to sell the recipe. She was assembling people who could resume production.

  The harbor watch came by the boat. It was late in the afternoon. The watch captain had said they had until the end of the day to pay his fee. The guards eyed the boat before leaving.

  Spicy began to relax when he saw more motion on the dock.

  A man in rags who had been sitting against an upturned rowboat rose. He waited until the watch had departed before heading towards the Sin Nombre. Two more men in similar grubby attire fell in behind him.

  “Goldbug!” Spicy called.

  The young pirate had just been napping. He rose from the pile of sails and gave a whistle. The other pirates on board gathered, a few grabbing knives or clubs.

  The rag man ran his hand along the side of the Sin Nombre. “A nice vessel, this. A bit smaller than ours, but it will make a nice complement. Two boats are better than one. Or, if our captain decides to sell, I’m sure it will fetch a fine purse.”

  “Don’t touch our boat,” Goldbug said.

  The men behind the leader had their hands on their weapons but kept them hidden under the folds of their clothes. One of these Spicy recognized. He was a sailor from the Wind Bonnet. The others must have been too.

  “Perhaps you should call the guard,” the rag man said. He climbed on board the boat.

  “We paid you,” Spicy said.

  The rag man walked among the Sin Nombre pirates and surveyed them as if examining livestock. “And when was the last time you men were paid?” He jingled a coin purse on his hip. “Captain Breaker is expanding his operation. Perhaps Bird’s Landing will have a new master who will bring better fortune than it’s been experiencing of late.”

  “How much?” Goldbug asked.

  The rag man arched an eyebrow and turned to face the young man. “You sail? And can fight? Fifty tencoin just for signing.”

  The other Sin Nombre crew shifted where they stood. Goldbug licked his lips.

  “But,” the rag man continued, “this pay is contingent. Delivery of the bombs. And this boat. We can close this deal now, if you wish.”

  “We don’t want your deal,” Spicy said.

  One of the Sin Nombre crew, a man named Flores, said, “Shut up, gob. The bombs aren’t here. Captain wasn’t lying when he said they were destroyed.”

  “If that were true, then how did an Orchard City guard captain get one? Seems as if they are being given out like prizes at a fair, while you refuse your own business partners.”

  “The gob had one hidden on him.”

  “Just one? Perhaps you could check for more. Is your new crew member hiding something? Surely your captain wouldn’t do a thing like that, but a goblin might.”

  Flores turned and moved towards Spicy. “I suppose we didn’t check him.”

  Goldbug got in the man’s way.

  “Out of the way, Goldbug. This little gob might be holding out on us.”

  Goldbug jutted his jaw out as if daring Flores to strike him. Flores was a head taller and broader in the shoulders. He was holding a club while Goldbug remained unarmed.

  “This is stupid,” Spicy said. He opened his shirt and turned. “Look. I don’t have anything on me. My bag is right over there. There are no more bombs.”

  The rag man made a dismissive gesture. “But you could square the deal with your boat where every man here would profit.” As if to punctuate his point, he jingled the gold. “Captain Breaker’s deal stands. We want you to capture your captain. Breaker is a fair man. He’ll see him go unharmed. Mostly. And he pays each man his fifty coin. Breaker’s principled, you see. Imagine bringing your families back a purse you haven’t seen in months. There’s a reason the Sin Nombre has been so quiet in the delta lately. The ship’s unlucky. Your captain has lost his touch and maybe his spine. You can turn that all around right now. And the Wind Bonnet could use a few good sailors, seeing how Breaker might be manning a second boat.”

  “You can try to buy out my men,” Middle Finger called as he pushed past the other two Wind Bonnet men. “That’s fair. Each of my crew has to decide his own fate, and it’s a competitive market. But don’t you ever call the Sin Nombre unlucky. After all, we have our own goblin. And you don’t.”

  He vaulted on board and went face-to-face with the man in rags. “Captain Breaker, you really need to change your disguises out. And speaking about yourself in the third person makes you sound like a bit of a prig.”

  Goldbug and the other men around Spicy straightened up. Spicy realized it was indeed Captain Breaker under the rags. He was wearing shoes that made him taller.

  “Now, I told you we didn’t have your merchandise,” Middle Finger said. “We also gave you a refund. That concluded our business in my books. Maybe your coming here right up our backside is mere coincidence. Because honorable men of our trade share too much courtesy to ever screw one another dry.”

  Before Captain Breaker could react, Middle Finger snatched the coin purse. “Fair is fair. We had a deal. But I realize we also grossly overpaid when my lucky goblin handed over our coffer.” He counted out thirty coins and handed them to Spicy. Then he gave the rest of the money back. “Here. You’ll need this. Seems that the Orchard City Trade Council has increased its fees on boats down at Fruit Harbor. I believe they’re tagging a few with delinquency papers, as well. At least until certain boats have their holds inspected to confirm they’re not smuggling anything illegal. The Wind Bonnet is parked down there, isn’t it?”

  “What did you do?” Captain Breaker asked.

  “Me? I’ve been visiting merchants and booking cargo runs all day. Best to make coin before the season turns. But my first mate has a brother in the watch who is a bit of a stickler when he hears about boats not paying their fair share. Might want to get down there.”

  Breaker leaned in to Middle Finger until their noses were almost touching. “You’ll pay for this.”

  “Not before you do. Ah, I see my first mate is here. Well, off you go. We’re for the water still this afternoon, and you had better jog along if you want to save your boat.”

  Breaker climbed down to the dock and hurried off, his men falling in behind him. Wes was approaching and he moved out of the way as they passed.

  “What’s the word?” Wes asked.

  “A busy afternoon,” Middle Finger said. “All for naught, if we don’t have a destination.” He looked down at Spicy.

  Spicy couldn’t help but smile. “She’s on board a boat called the Cat’s Cradle and they’re heading for Pinnacle.”

  Middle Finger nodded as if expecting the answer. “The goblin has earned his place with us today.”

  Spicy caught the approving nod of more than one crew member.

  “Get us out of here, Mr. Wes,” the captain said. “The Cat’s Cradle is a fast boat and we’ll have to make good time. And now, Mister Flores, if you will accompany me to my cabin? We have to have a discussion about morale.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Spicy decided that being on the water wasn’t so bad once you got used to it. But his earlier sense of self-satisfaction gave way to suspicion. Wasn’t the captain playing him for his own ends? What made Middle Finger any better than Captain Breaker?

  He would have to rely on the man until the recipe could b
e recovered and Alma and the foreman dealt with. The how of it still eluded him.

  He distracted himself with his lock. Now the device clicked open after a few seconds of Spicy working the two picks, and he could do it without looking. A shiver crept over him, as the growing breeze held a distinct bite.

  His practice was cut short as the boat beneath him began to rise and fall. The rocking became bad enough that he put his lock and picks away and hung on.

  “Entering the rush waters,” Goldbug said.

  The boat’s rocking only worsened. The crew moved to capitalize on the increasing wind, urged on by Wes. The first mate did everything possible to make the boat go even faster. Spicy could hardly believe it. The crew was grinning. They hooted and whooped as the boat began riding at an angle, the waves breaking on the boat and sending up a shower of spray.

  For the first hour, Spicy thought he would lose his breakfast. Then he lost his breakfast.

  Goldbug leaned on the side next to him. “Eyes forward and on the horizon. It’s a rule.”

  Spicy nodded, then puked the last of his stomach’s contents into the water.

  Pinnacle rose up from the western edge of the mammoth bay. The city lay just south of the largest structure Spicy had ever seen, an enormous bridge that spanned the bay’s opening. It featured two towers of steel which reached into the sky. Beyond lay the great ocean. Fog was pouring in between the towers, the mass of white air crashing like a wave. Tiny lights glowed along the span that might have been lanterns.

  The city itself boasted a dozen or more spires. These steeples or towers proved deceptively high as the Sin Nombre got closer to the city. The scale of the place was immense. Spicy felt a growing dread. How had they ever built such large structures?

  An island in the center of the bay had a keep on top of it. It was built of gray stone and had no lights and little color but for the hundreds of birds that favored its rooftop. There were other towns on the shore to the east, but none matched Pinnacle. The city demanded attention, and even the crew took a moment to drink in the sight.

  Further south were three more towers of metal. These jutted from the water, apparently the remains of a second bridge that had suffered some catastrophic collapse.

  Spicy marveled at it all. What weren’t humans capable of? What had they forgotten that only the dragons knew?

  The Sin Nombre headed into one of several harbors. They navigated between long barges loaded with wood. Once they were past a long breakwater, the swells of the sea lessened. By then, after having sailed the night and much of the day since leaving Orchard City, Spicy was craving ground that didn’t move.

  A rowboat carrying two rowers and a bundled-up woman with a clipboard met them.

  “Dropping off passengers,” Wes said. “We just need a tie-off spot for the evening.”

  The woman made a note, then one of her rowers climbed on board. The crew appeared to know the drill and stood back as the man made a quick inspection of the boat and its holds. Finally Wes preceded Middle Finger and the harbor monitor into the cabin, where they vanished.

  “This would be where we pay a fee if we don’t want to get harassed,” Goldbug said softly.

  “Will they know where the Cat’s Cradle set in?”

  “I’m sure the captain will find out, assuming he has the funds to pay. No one shares information on credit unless the offer is really good. Or if they’re stupid.”

  The monitor emerged along with Wes, but the captain remained inside. The Pinnacle man swung himself over and stood precariously on the bow of the rowboat. It clunked against the Sin Nombre, and he drew a yellow X on her side with a piece of chalk.

  They found a berth alongside one of the barges where they tied off, with the help of a dock worker who accepted a few pennies from Wes for his trouble. Middle Finger came out bundled in a heavy sweater. He didn’t have his glasses.

  The harbormaster’s rowboat lingered nearby, where the inspector handed a pair of gold-rimmed bifocals to the woman with the clipboard. She examined them and gave the captain a wave.

  “You’re my eyes now, Master Goblin,” Middle Finger said. “But we have word. The Cat’s Cradle came in just this morning and tied on. She’s still here. Which means so is our quarry.”

  “How many of the crew do you want to remain on board?” Wes asked.

  “All of them. We need to be ready to leave on a moment’s notice.” He paused and looked at the faces of his men. “You’ve come this far, and I have no coin to pay just yet. It will take more time even after we find who we’re looking for, but we’ll have a payday yet. If any of you decides this is the place to part company, I’ll think no less of you. All of you are welcome back if you choose to depart to seek other fortune. The only thing I ask is that you stay on board for the night.”

  No one on the crew said anything.

  “Keep the watch, Master Wes,” Middle Finger said. He stepped off and onto the barge, which served as a makeshift pier leading to a long dock.

  Goldbug and Spicy followed. Spicy almost stumbled several times as they crossed the crooked planks. He kept looking up. The nearest towers were taller than most trees. Some looked quite old and in disrepair, their outer stucco crumbling. One boasted a balcony on top where he imagined the view was spectacular.

  The activity on the dock was similar to that of Orchard City and Eel Port, but all at a greater scale. Boats were tied off three deep at the closest piers. Teams of workers used mules and winches to unload and load their cargo. All manner of livestock was being shipped.

  A group of soldiers were milling about, but none appeared vigilant. These uniformed men were idle and waiting and disinterested in Middle Finger, Spicy, and Goldbug as they passed.

  Along the waterfront were many other men and women who did little but lean and watch. Some were dressed lavishly, others were gaudy with makeup and wigs and jewelry, while still more looked grimy and hungry.

  Goldbug nudged Spicy. “Stop staring.”

  “I’m not,” Spicy said. But he couldn’t help but look.

  He was offered several goods and services he was unfamiliar with. The accents were the most difficult to parse that he had yet encountered when dealing with humankind. He was catching the eye of more and more people as they passed along. Some pointed and laughed and soon a few grubby urchins had fallen in behind them. One grabbed at Spicy’s sleeve and squealed with laughter when Spicy pulled himself free.

  “Don’t dally, Mister Spicy,” Middle Finger said.

  A tall woman in a red frock with shining brass buttons stepped in Spicy’s way. She grinned, showing gold in her teeth, and took Spicy by the shoulders only to rub her hands on his head. Goldbug shoved her back and earned them both a raucous belly laugh from the woman.

  Middle Finger led them down the street in the direction of a man speaking loud enough that his voice carried over the clamor. A figure stood on a small platform, wearing a robe replete with colored ribbons. At the end of each ribbon dangled a small shining ornament. Spicy immediately recognized some of the baubles. They were glyphs.

  A woman wearing a hat and a lace veil stood before the stage. The man in the robe had a wide bowl of sand set before him.

  “You seek comfort, love, and fidelity,” the man said. He drew in the sand. Spicy wasn’t close enough to see what he was drawing. “But as you can see, all three together are incompatible with your circumstances.”

  The crowd around the stage was listening with rapt attention.

  “You may only choose one this day,” he continued, “but be sure you choose wisely.”

  “Which do I choose?” the woman asked. “I only want to be happy.”

  The man sighed and wiped the sand clean. “Comfort will come from those you hold closest except for your husband. Love will come from another, but will require you to break your own vows as your husband has already done. And I see here fidelity will come at the cost of love. And it may be the hardest road of them all.”

  “Love. I want love.”
>
  The man stared at her for a moment, then nodded gravely. “So the choice is made.”

  His fingers went to work in the bowl. Spicy climbed to the top of a crate and craned his neck so he could see. The man finished drawing and waved his hands before spreading them wide, revealing a glyph in the sand. He motioned her forward. She spat into the bowl. He reached out and wiped the sand smooth.

  Whispers rose from the crowd.

  The man unclipped a bauble from his robe and handed it to her. She accepted it and kissed it and tucked it away into a purse. Then she paid him.

  “Who is that on the stage?” Spicy asked.

  “Glyph warden,” Goldbug said. “Pay to set your fortune.”

  “Does it work?”

  Goldbug shrugged. “Not if you worship the Divine Mother. Their priests don’t get along. Come on.”

  Middle Finger waited for the two to catch up. They followed him to a pier where he spent some time talking to a man who appeared to be a dock official. He had a surprisingly friendly face. He pointed them up a broad street where a busy market was set up.

  A moment later, the three huddled together. “Cat’s Cradle let off her passengers,” Middle Finger said. He was squinting as he surveyed the waterfront. “I didn’t press too hard, but Alma and company were heading to the merchant district. Apparently, Alma and Blades had been arguing. Blades was overheard saying he was going to get drunk. We can start by checking the watering holes nearby.”

  Spicy looked down the crowded street. “What’s your plan when you catch them?”

  “I’m going to have a word with my foreman. And then I’ll appeal to his better nature. Leave that part to me.”

  “Should we get the rest of the crew?” Spicy asked. “If we run into them…”

  Middle Finger just waved him along.

  Spicy felt increasingly nervous as they left the water behind them and headed into the heart of the city. He knew there would be more than talk when they caught up with the people they were after. Alma and Blades didn’t negotiate. Spicy got the mercenary woman to back down the last time they had faced each other only because he had been pointing a giant crossbow at her. The foreman with the bomb recipes in his head might be the same. And Blades’s only skill was murder.