by Rob J. Hayes
The spell controlling the wild canines worn off but they were already driven into a frenzy and the smell of blood only excited them more. Up in the tree Thanquil was safe from them, it was common knowledge wolves were terrible climbers but as long as he was up here he couldn’t get his arm seen to and there was only so much blood loss a man could take before it became as fatal as the beasts that prowled below.
“Woof,” Thanquil said to the beasts below, it was meant to be something of a shout but he was lacking the enthusiasm. The wolves were not so handicapped, they leapt into another flurry of activity, pacing, growling and jumping up at the tree.
Thanquil looked around for something he could use as a weapon and came up empty. His sword was long lost, still lodged firmly in the chest of the witch who had summoned the wolves. He must have been mad to summon so many; a pack of nearly twenty, Thanquil found it hard to be accurate in his counting as the creatures never ceased moving.
It had been a hard battle full of near misses but Thanquil had come out on top, closing the distance to the witch and planting his sword through the man’s torso even as he howled out his final breath. Not a few minutes after the witch’s death the wolves had arrived in force and they had given chase. Thanquil fled, threw down his coat to distract the beasts and jumped for the first tree of suitable height. Now he was stuck up here bleeding to death while the corpse of the witch whom he had been sent to capture was eaten by the same wolves he had summoned. It was strangely fitting in a gruesome sort of way.
He shifted his position in the branches, trying to get comfortable only to shift back when he realised comfortable was the last thing he needed right now. One of the wolves made a valiant attempt at jumping the ten feet up to him and hit the ground heavy, another snapped at it and they went back to prowling. White wolves with fur the colour of packed snow, some part of him was aware how rare it was to see such coloured wolves down in Sarth but another part of him didn’t care.
Rooting around in his pockets Thanquil found only a small chip of wood, the same chips the Inquisition used to create runes only this one was blank. He knew it was his only way out and knew what he had to do. Not many runes would be powerful enough to kill the whole pack and those that were would likely kill him too. There was one that would scare them away though he doubted it had ever been used for such. With no ink to speak of Thanquil had only one way to inscribe the needed runes onto the chip. He flexed his left hand, set his index finger to the chip and started drawing. One rune to store the power, he felt himself weakening as he wrote it, as it absorbed his energy. One rune to summon. One rune to bind. When it was done he let out a shuddering breath and without a thought of hesitation snapped the rune in half, dropping both sides to the leafy ground below.
The demon roared into existence in an explosion of noise and darkness. Usually they faded into and out of this world but this time it was almost as though the demon knew it needed to make a grand entrance.
The wolves scattered, whimpering and breaking from their frenzied stalking. One was foolish enough to snap at the demon. It made a quick and easy meal for the creature from the void and blood and wolf parts soon littered the ground. The other wolves had fled by then, long gone. Eventually the face of the demon turned up towards Thanquil and something that could have been a grin spread across the patch of darkness. Beady, flickering yellow eyes stared into his own and the mouth opened to speak…
“Arbiter,” Ianic said, shaking Thanquil gently.
Thanquil prised his eyes open, an act that took no small amount of effort. “I was dreaming,” he said dumbly.
The pirate nodded. “That’s a side effect of sleeping, so I’m told.”
“How long was I out?” Thanquil asked.
He felt his compulsion grip hold of Ianic even as he saw the other man frown. “Not long. An hour most.” The pirate shook his head and blinked rapidly. “Well that was unpleasant.”
“Sorry,” Thanquil said. “I didn’t mean to do it.”
“Aye. Well no harm done. All the same I’d rather it didn’t happen again if it’s all the same.”
“Of course.”
“Good,” Ianic said still frowning. “Cook whipped you up some stew. Not much meat in it sad to say, but it’s hot and tastes… well I’ve tasted worse.”
Thanquil took the proffered stew and the heel of stale bread and wolfed it down. It was during that meal he realised that he had asked Captain Stillwater questions back on the Phoenix. He hadn’t noticed at the time but his compulsion hadn’t taken hold. Whether from exhaustion or something else he couldn’t be sure, it certainly seemed to be working again now.
“I need to see Drake,” Thanquil said around a mouthful of bread and stew.
“Figured ya might say that so I had me an ask around while ya were out,” Ianic said setting down a cup of something that looked suspiciously alcoholic and then taking a deep swig out of a second mug. “He ain’t here.”
“And you don’t know where he is,” Thanquil finished.
“Can’t say I know Captain Morrass too well but he don’t seem like the sharing type, specially not to folk like me. Only met him the once.”
“But he was here. He let you know I’d be coming.”
“Seems that way,” Ianic took another swig from his mug and Thanquil followed suit. He couldn’t say he’d ever really acquired the taste for grog but right now the devilish mixture of beer and rum was just about the best thing he’d ever tasted. He felt a warmth spreading through his body as he swallowed it down.
“I need to get after him,” Thanquil said after the grog had slid into his system and was resting comfortably in his stomach. “There are ways off Fortune’s Rest. We must be near the mainland, near a port.”
“Not too far, not too close. The captain likes to keep his Rest off the beaten routes. Don’t like folk just stumbling upon us. A few days sailing’ll get you to Overlook though. Don’t know any folk heading that way but then I ain’t the dock master. Better to ask around.”
“I don’t know Overlook.”
“Big fort built looking over a bigger cliff. Town just sorta sprawled out below it. Owned by the Ferin family. Not much to see or do but it’s the nearest port. Don’t reckon Drake’ll have gone there though.”
Thanquil nodded, finishing the stew and then the grog. “I need paper and ink.”
Ianic looked blank. “Uhh.”
“Fabric will do,” Thanquil said quickly. Now he had a full belly he could feel sleep pulling at him, trying to drag him down into sweet oblivion. “Something like a bandage.”
“Reckon I can get some.”
“And ink.”
Ianic shrugged.
Thanquil sighed. He’d had a full inkwell in his pack but that he had abandoned to make the swim to Fortune’s Rest. His entire belongings currently consisted of his clothes, his coat, his weapons, a small tube of black powder thankfully stoppered to protect it from water, and Myorzo. “I’ll manage with just the bandage.”
Ianic put down his mug of grog and scampered off. Thanquil fought the urge to sleep, staring into the embers of the dying cook fire. Fire was never safe aboard a ship and especially one connected to hundreds of other ships but Thanquil wasn’t about to argue, he was simply happy of the warmth.
By the time Ianic came back Thanquil’s eyes were very nearly closed. The pirate shook his shoulder gently and proffered a handful of bandages of varying lengths. Thanquil selected one roughly twice the length of his hand and laid it out before him. He drew the knife from his belt and cut a slit from his index finger.
“Uh,” Ianic grunted. “What are you doing?”
Thanquil ignored the pirate. He sucked the excess blood from his finger and pumped it a few times to get the blood flowing again, then he placed it lightly on the bandage and drew a clumsy symbol. The sleepless charm wouldn’t be his most effective but as long as it lasted a day or two he would be happy with it. He doubted it would take more than that to earn enough money to get to the mainland; he
was, after all, a thief surrounded by casinos, bars and a whole host of rich folk. He tied the bandage in a loop and bared his arm, pulling the makeshift charm up to his bicep he tightened the loop and let out a shuddering breath as the magic took effect. It might not keep him from being tired but it would stop him from falling asleep.
“You alright, Arbiter?” Ianic asked. “Ya look like ya could use some sleep.”
Thanquil laughed bitterly. “Believe me, sleep would bring me no rest. Filled with bad dreams. This is better.”
The pirate nodded slowly though he looked more than a little sceptical.
“I’d like to see the sights now, Ianic,” Thanquil said. “A gambling house would be best.”
“Sure. Whatever you say, Arbiter.” The pirate stood and Thanquil with him. “Reckon I know just the place.”
Each ship in Fortune’s Rest was more than just a ship, each and every one was a brothel or a gambling house or a fighting arena or an inn or drug den and each one was owned and operated by men and women loyal to Drake Morrass. Ianic claimed a person could sate any desire in the floating pleasure house and Thanquil could well believe it to be true.
He saw two women, one a southerner from the wilds with skin as black as the night and one with the pallor and pointed eyes of the Dragon Empire, sat outside a cabin on a ship, they were playing a game called buiss; it was a strategical game Thanquil had never managed to pick up despite Jez’s frequent attempts to teach him. The girls were placing chips on a board, on one side the chips were black and on the other white, depending on the placement one girl would capture the other’s pieces and flip them over, the winner would be the one with the most chips their colour at the end. When the women saw Thanquil and Ianic crossing from the previous ship to theirs they stopped playing and the southerner reached across the table, took the other girls breast in hand and licked at the nipple. Thanquil looked away. Ianic chuckled.
“They specialise on that sort of thing here on Percy’s Ghost. Never been in for it myself but I know a few lads who swear by it, one woman too.”
“That sort of thing,” Thanquil repeated.
“Yeah. Same sex stuff, two women one cock. Ain’t the weirdest thing the cap’n offers at the Rest but it’s one of the better earners, I hear.”
They crossed the deck of Percy’s Ghost and onto another wooden walkway connected to a ship called Dragon’s Dare. The deck of the new ship was deserted, no sailors, no guards, no customers and no workers. Thanquil looked at Ianic who was frowning and clearly a little uneasy.
“Cross this one quickly, Arbiter. You don’t want to see what goes on below deck.”
“What could possibly…”
“You don’t want to know, Arbiter. Hells I don’t want to know. Let’s just move on quick.”
Thanquil warred with his curiosity and won, following Ianic as he rushed across the deck of Dragon’s Dare. The ex-pirate led them through a winding route across ships and further into the heart of Fortune’s Rest. On each ship he explained its current purpose and what services it had to offer. Thanquil saw midget people fighting and customers betting on the outcome and on the very next ship he heard a roar come from below deck, Ianic explained they set packs of wolves against bears down below. Thanquil couldn’t decide if he was more worried that people would be willing to pay to watch such or that Drake had brought both bear and wolves out to see to satisfy the desire.
The number of customers increased as they approached the centre of the fleet and while some looked a lot like the more common folk of the wilds, many looked to be rich individuals or couples, and many did not look as though they came from the wilds at all.
“Folk travel from everywhere to spend their money at the Rest,” Ianic said. “Some never leave, get in over their heads and have to work it off, find themselves a life.”
“Slaves,” Thanquil said.
Ianic shook his head. “No slaves at the Rest. Not one. Drake don’t allow it. Had a slaver pull up a year or so back, hold full of folk waiting to be sold and the captain of the ship wanting to hold here for a few days while he got himself some pleasure. Drake didn’t look on that too kind. Seized the slave ship, killed the crew, freed the slaves and added the ship to the Rest. Some of those slaves work here still.”
“So the people who get over their heads…” Thanquil prompted.
“Those are willing to work get put to it, pay off their debts and then they’re free to go or stay as they please. Those not willing to work… We have a more permanent solution for them. Makes an example. Not many folk not willing to pay off their debts these days.”
“How have I never heard of this place?” Thanquil asked himself.
Ianic took it upon himself to answer. “Don’t reckon many of your kind have, don’t reckon there’s many witch hunters been invited.”
“For fear we would come in numbers and shut it all down,” Thanquil said looking around in both wonder and disgust. Hundreds upon hundreds of ships and he had seen only a handful and in that handful he had seen much of the worst people had to offer; women and men whoring themselves out to any that had the coin and willing to debase themselves in any way for that coin. People paying money to watch others beat each other to death. Drug addicts so cooked by their own particular choice of vice that they could no longer function without it. Thanquil knew how addiction worked all too well and knew the dangers of indulging. He judged most of the people here were addicted to something; pain, pleasure, drugs. He doubted there were any real heretics here but that wouldn’t stop the Inquisition shutting the place down just in case.
“This is it,” Thanquil said. The ship they had come to was named Teigun’s Treason, a sleek craft of Five Kingdoms’ origin and it had a small host of armed guards waiting on the outside of the hatch. Above decks towards the aft of the ship a group of men were sitting, enjoying the cool night and playing a card game on a table lit by a windowed lantern.
“Aye,” said Ianic. “This is it. This and the next two ships on are all gaming dens. But they don’t play for free, Arbiter. You’ll need some coin if you expect to try your luck.”
Thanquil reached into the breast of his still soggy coat and pulled out a small purse, he judged there was only a few coins inside and he doubted they were of anything but the smallest currency but it was a start and he would wager he could have many times the amount in no time.
Ianic looked confused. “Thought you said you’d lost ya purse.”
“I found another one,” Thanquil replied.
Ianic patted down his pockets and was relieved to find his own purse still in his possession. The ex-pirate backed off a step. “Reckon I’ll leave ya here then, Arbiter. One word of warning though; the house always wins.” With that the man turned and walked quickly away. Thanquil watched him go, watched him look backwards more than once to make certain he wasn’t being followed. Only when Ianic was well and truly out of sight did Thanquil turn towards the guards at the hatch and approach with a wide smile.
One of the guards, a woman with a crooked nose, short brown hair and breasts that barely registered as bumps underneath her tunic, stepped forward between Thanquil and the hatch. “What’s your business here, witch hunter.”
Thanquil leaned in close and was rewarded by the woman taking a hasty step backwards. “I prefer Arbiter. No business. I’m here for pleasure,” he said spreading both his hands. “Gambling is a hobby of mine and I hear there’s no better place to lose a few bits.”
The woman looked far from convinced. She looked Thanquil up and down, her eyes lingering on the covered blade that hung at his belt. The lure of Myorzo had become such a constant in his world Thanquil had almost forgotten he had it. Now he thought about it he could hear the whispers again and, judging by the woman’s slack expression, she could hear the voices too. Thanquil quickly pulled his coat closer about him, covering the blade with its leather embrace. The woman shook herself free from the trance and wrenched her attention back to Thanquil.
“We don’t take w
eapons from folk, Arbiter, but we do ask that you don’t use them. If asking fails we then tend to insist and I assure you we don’t insist peacefully.”
Thanquil started towards the hatch. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He descended in a dimly lit clamour heavy with the smell of sweat and casher weed. The ship was full of tables bolted to the wooden floor and each was in use. Betting games from card gambling to dice rolling to scorpion racing, there were even some Thanquil had never heard of including one that seemed to involve small clay tiles each with a symbol scribed upon it, some of them actually looked a little like runes and Thanquil quickly decided to thieve a few of the tiles to replenish his own lost supply of prepared runes.
A few of the customers had taken notice of him, some watched with wary eyes, others eyed him up only as a mark, one more body to take money from. Ianic may have warned that the house always wins but not all games of chance were played against a house and it was always far easier to cheat other gamblers than it was the establishment.
Thanquil couldn’t help but notice there were even more armed pirates masquerading as guards down below. He was sure if any of them caught him cheating he would soon find himself back in the water and that was something he most certainly did not want but he was also well aware that he had never been caught yet.
There was a trick to gambling and it was different from the art of thieving. Pick pocketing took nimble fingers, quick reactions and the ability to assess potential marks, to determine which were paranoid and paying attention to their purses or jewellery and which were oblivious to the epidemic of thievery that infested every part of humanity. Cheating at gambling required misdirection or, as Thanquil had long ago learned, he could just use magic to cheat.
The three schools of magic each Arbiter received tutoring in were Runes and Charms, Blessings and Curses, and Sorcery. Of the three Thanquil had always excelled at the use of Blessings and Curses; he was, in fact, one of only four members of the Inquisition who could weave together five Blessings into a single stream, that was a feat even the Grand Inquisitor had never mastered. Sorcery, however, was not one of Thanquil’s specialities.