As they watched, several men climbed into a small boat that had pulled alongside the ship. The boat backed away from the ship and the oars began a rhythmic rise and dip, bringing it closer to the pier with each stroke. The four on the pier awaited its arrival with varying feelings. Within a few minutes the boat was tied up to a ladder that ran down from the edge of the timber pier. Due to the stage of the tide, the men in the boat had to scramble up several feet of ladder to reach the pier. At another time, a simple step over the bulwark would have accomplished the same feat.
The first man off was a burly figure, swathed in a cloak and wearing a broad-brimmed hat on his head. Conan reached down and gave him a hand, hauling the man up the last few feet in a tigerish surge of muscle.
'Thank you,' said the sailor, raising his face to see his benefactor. 'How may I ...' At the same instant, Conan and the sailor grasped their hilts. Red hair spilled from beneath the brim of the hat and a red beard framed the man's jaw. A grimace twisted his lips.
'Blackhair!' snarled the shipmaster.
'Redbeard!' Conan barked. The others were dumbfounded as the two stood like statues, the skipper's sword half out of its sheath. Silently, Ulfilo moved to get between Malia and the two men who stood poised upon the brink of savage bloodshed. Then, slowly, Conan's hand fell away from his grip.
'We are a long way from the Northlands, Van,' he said.
Just as slowly, the red-haired man re-sheathed his sword until his hilt clicked against the bronze throat of the scabbard.
'Aye, I can bear the sight of a Cimmerian this far from the halls of my fathers.'
'Feuds are for the homeland,' Conan said. 'I have even
Kingdom. Down here, we are all just northern barbarians.'
'What does this mean?' Malia asked in a low voice.
'The captain is of the Vanir race,' Springald said. 'The Vanir and the Cimmerians are hereditary enemies. The Vanir raid the Cimmerians for children to raise as slaves, and the Cimmerians raid the Vanir for revenge and, well, just for the enjoyment of it.'
The shipmaster looked at the others. 'You seem to have business with me. What might it be?'
'Will you come to the Albatross and share a table with us, Captain?' Ulfilo asked. 'We have need of a ship, and this man'—he gestured to Conan—'tells us that your ship is the sort we seek, and that its skipper and men are likely to be suitable.'
'Aye, and what sort of ship and men might these be?'
'We need a ship that can go into waters where an ordinary merchantman would be as a fat pigeon in a sky full of swift hawks,' Ulfilo said. 'We seek men who are not afraid to brave the most hostile of coasts. And we seek a skipper who can drive both ship and men.'
The Van grinned. 'The Sea Tiger is such a ship, and I, Wulfrede of Vanaheim, am such a captain. As for my men, you had best look and judge for yourselves. Many men would run from the sight of them. If you are such men, you are not fitted for the voyage of which you hint.'
'Then will you join us, Captain?' Malia said.
He looked down at the slight form and smiled. 'How could I not when the company is so fair? Yes, I'll even sit down and eat with a Cimmerian to hear this. You must have something very unusual to propose.' Then he looked up at Conan. 'What of you, blackhair?'
Conan regarded him levelly. 'I could choke down a few bites, even with a redbeard. I told them that a ship like yours might well bear the skipper and men they seek. I do not withdraw my advice.'
Wulfrede grinned. 'Then let's be friends, at least until we've eaten and I've heard your proposal. To the Albatross!'
In the tavern platters of food were brought and they all ate while Ulfilo outlined the proposed voyage. The story he gave was identical to that he had given the Cimmerian. Conan listened closely for any difference. He suspected that they were not telling him everything and was ready to pounce upon the slightest discrepancy.
'First let me tell you that I think you are on a fool's errand,' Wulfrede said. 'But that is not my business. I am sure Conan here has already advised you that you stand very little chance of ever finding this man.'
'You are correct,' Malia said dryly. 'He has so advised us and it is not your business. What of you and your ship?'
'I have sailed three days southward of the Zarkheba, never as far as the Coast of Bones. But you offer good pay, and I was never one to shrink from danger if there was profit to be had.'
'What of your crew?' Conan asked.
Wulfrede shrugged. 'I shall tell them where we sail, as always. They may sail with us or leave, as is their right. If we are a little shorthanded, we'll pick up men in Khemi or on the coastal islands. It's never a bad idea to have a few native sailors in those waters. They are not as likely to fall to the local diseases.'
'Then we are agreed?' Ulfilo said.
'One thing bothers me,' Wulfrede said, leaning forward, his forearms on the table and his fingers laced. 'This lady. Does she really propose to come with us?'
'I do,' she said. 'I am not afraid.'
'I do not doubt that, my lady,' Wulfrede conceded, 'but such a voyage is the death of tough warriors and hard-bitten sailors. The sun alone can strike down someone as fair-skinned as you. And then there are my sailors. These are not men of refinement and restraint, and you would be the only woman among them for a very long time.'
'I will stay between her and your sailors, Captain,' Ulfilo said, his hand gripping his hilt.
'And I,' said Conan.
'Perhaps the two of you can protect her,' said Wulfrede, 'but the men believe that a woman aboard ship is bad luck. While all is well there should be no problem. But if we encounter misfortune, they will look for someone to blame and then we will have our hands full.'
'She goes,' Ulfilo said adamantly.
'Very well, on your head be it.' He sat back. 'Now, if we are to go among the natives as peaceful traders, we must have trade goods. I have yet a cargo of tin ingots aboard, to be offloaded here for the bronze foundries. My hold will be empty by tomorrow afternoon and we may take on more.'
'What sort of goods should we take?' Springald asked.
'Such things as the coastal blacks need and cannot produce for themselves,' Wulfrede said. 'That is always the way with trade, if you would have high profit. They do not mine or smelt iron, though some tribes work it tolerably well. So iron ingots are always in demand. You want small ingots, such as are easily worked in a village forge. There is always a market for axes and spearheads, ready-made, and for knives.'
'What of swords?' Springald asked.
'They have little use for them along the coast, save the big bush knives that are tool and weapon both. The south is the land of the spear. Copper wire is a regular trade item, and glass beads, trinkets of all sorts, bells, rattles, mirrors, and so forth. And cloth, bolts of it. But buy fabrics of light weight dyed in bright colours. They have no use for heavy woollens. And buy the cheapest cloth you can find. The profit is higher and it makes no difference to the natives. Even the finest cloth deteriorates quickly in that climate.'
'This seems like good advice,' Springald said. 'Conan, have you anything to add?'
'Lay in a chest of good weapons and gauds of higher quality
as gifts for the chiefs. They will expect it and may take it ill if they do not receive things of higher quality than the others get.'
'And for what do we trade?' Springald asked. 'It is not our reason for going upon this expedition, but we must act the part of genuine merchants.'
'Once again, the only reason to go so far is to find things that men cannot get here, closer to hand. Ivory }s the most important single trade item. There is an endless supply of it in he black lands, it occurs nowhere else but Vendhya, and it is prized everywhere. Feathers of the ostrich and other great birds are very valuable, and they pack down well and weigh almost nothing. In some areas you may find pearls, and in a few places the natives find nuggets of gold in the streambeds. These they may save to trade. The hides and horns of some exotic animals can be valuable.
If you are learned in the proper lore, there may be many plants and barks that are useful for medicines and dyestuffs, but I have never traded for such. And, of course, there is always a ready market for slaves.'
'No slaving!' Ulfilo said vehemently.
'Aye,' Conan agreed. 'I'll go on no slaving expedition.'
'But why not?' Wulfrede said. 'It is not as if these were our kinsmen. The trade is recognised everywhere, and the beauty of it is that you need not even leave your ship. When they know you have goods to trade, the local chiefs will raid inland for prisoners and bring them right out to your ship.'
'I will have no part in slaving,' Ulfilo insisted. The others nodded agreement.
Wulfrede shrugged. 'As you will. The Sea Tiger is not fitted out for slaving at any rate. We could pack no more than two hundred in the hold, and many would die before we reached a port where they would fetch a good price.'
'We are agreed then,' Ulfilo said. 'We shall purchase trade goods from the local merchants while you see to the disposition of your cargo. We will begin loading our goods tomorrow afternoon. How soon after that will we sail?'
'As soon as possible,' Wulfrede said. 'This is the best sailing season, and we should not waste any of it.'
'When begins the season of great storms?' Malia asked.
At this Wulfrede laughed heartily. 'This shows how little you know of the ways of the sea. It is always the season of great storms on the Western Sea. I own that the big blows come somewhat closer together late in the sailing season, but you must always be prepared to flee before the wind at any time.' He rose from the table. 'And now, I must see to my ship and cargo. If you cannot find enough of the goods you need in this port, do not worry. We can always make it up in Khemi. Here, make sure to lay in the cloth you will need. Stygia makes beads and bangles in abundance.'
'And there we may get word of my husband,' Malia said. 'It was his last port, in the civilised world.'
Wulfrede nodded. 'Aye, it may be that we shall hear of him there.'
Conan rose. 'I would see the ship,' he said, 'and the men.'
'Come, then,' Wulfrede said. 'Although I would think you would rather spend your last hours ashore carousing. Sea Tiger will be your home for a long time, Cimmerian.'
The two went out into the bright sunlight and walked to the wharf. They found a barge already unloading some of the tin ingots from Sea Tiger's cargo. Wulfrede had a few words with the factor from the bronze foundry and looked over his inventory, checking it against his own bill of lading. When the barge was unloaded the Van and the Cimmerian rode it back to the ship. Conan studied the craft as they drew nearer. Its lines were as fine as he had thought upon first impression, and the hull sported a coat of new black paint.
After the custom of the sea, Conan waited for the Van to board first. 'Come aboard, Conan,' Wulfrede said as soon as his feet were firm on the deck. Conan then sprang over the rail and gave the vessel a closer look. Its deck was immaculate, scrubbed white with pumice stone. All the metalwork was in good order, the bronze and brass polished bright, the iron carefully painted against rust. He noted some frayed rope twisted behind the belaying pins.
'Have you new cordage?' Conan asked.
'No, but I intend to lay in plenty of new rope,' Wulfrede answered. 'I had planned to make this last until we sailed back ii Kordava, but it will not do for a long voyage south. That -lunate eats up cordage as it does cloth and leather.'
'Have you sailcloth?'
'Aye, in the forward locker. Enough to patch these sails and make up two new ones if need be.'
'She's a good ship,' Conan admitted. 'I've never seen better, for this work.' He studied the crew, who studied him in return. Half he could identify as Zingarans and Argosseans. A few other nationalities were represented, and the rest belonged to that stateless breed that seemed to have no home except the salty deeps. They were dressed in a variety of clothing, some wearing no more than a breechclout and headcloth in the heat of midday. Every man wore a knife, although he saw no swords, axes, or other weapons. He had no doubt those more formidable weapons were near at hand. The men were scarred and dark-burned, and some were tattooed. He saw some mutilations that might have been inflicted as punishment for crimes, but none were definitely of that nature.
'Open up your ears!' Wulfrede bellowed, as if he needed to be heard over the din of a gale. 'All hands come aft!' As the men on deck shuffled aft others came up from below. Last of all came the ship's cook, a wrinkled old salt dressed in a stained apron and a spotless red turban, the sunlight winking from the gold hoops in his ears. The work of unloading went on, this being carried out by port workers and foundry slaves.
'Listen, sea dogs,' Wulfrede began. 'Our plan was to find a cargo here or nearby and sail back to Kordava by way of Messantia. But something promising has come our way. Some Aquilonian merchants want to hire Sea Tiger for a voyage down the coast past Khemi, to trade among the tribes of the Black Coast. You won't have to endure the crowding and stench of
slaves; they want to trade for ivory and the other rich goods of the land. We can be down there, do our trading, and be back before the bad weather sets in. And'—he grinned all around— 'they offer three times the usual sailor's pay, in recognition of the hardship. What say you?'
Conan knew that a rough democracy would prevail here in port. That would cease utterly once they were at sea. He could tell that Wulfrede was a masterful captain from the condition of the deck. He saw no slaves or ship's boys on this vessel. The Van got these hard men to do the work themselves, and Conan knew that to be no easy task. A long-armed man of nameless race whose features were those of an ape was first to speak.
'How far south, my captain?' His near-lipless mouth was exceptionally wide, and his words made the silver ring through his nose bob. Somehow, the effect was not comical.
'South of the Zarkheba,' Wulfrede said.
'How far south?' asked the same man.
'Some five or six days south of there.' This resulted in some muttering. 'What? Do you sea hounds balk at a little southern cruising? You know as well as I: The more remote, the less visited a land is, there are to be found the highest profits.'
'High profits for the merchants, perhaps,' said the apelike man. 'But the risks are all the same for the sailors!'
'Umu,' Wulfrede said patiently, 'no man will be forced to sail with us. I am here to give any such his pay. There are more sailors than there are berths for them.'
'My employers,' Conan said, addressing the crew for the first time, 'are more than merely generous. Besides triple play, they are willing to offer shares in the profits of the voyage. You all know how profitable one of these voyages can be, for those who survive.' Wulfrede looked at him in surprise, but let him speak as he would.
'I trust no man's generosity,' sneered the man named Umu. 'Wherefore are these landsmen so generous?'
'They do not wish to have it noised about,' Conan said, ' 'but they are scouting new territory for a trading company that
has recently been formed in Aquilonia. You all know that Aquilonia is landlocked, but it is a land of rich merchants. The actual profits of this voyage are not truly important, save insofar as icy mean more to come for this new company. Why should icy not be willing to divide these first profits with you? And, when they form their trading fleet for future voyages, those who sailed on this first voyage will have preferment.' The men began muttering among themselves.
'Think it over and make your own decisions,' Wulfrede said. 'You have until we sail upon the morn after tomorrow. I am not afraid to sail undermanned. There are plenty of sailors between here and Kush to fill your berths. As for me, I sail south, with Sea Tiger beneath my feet! You are dismissed.' The men turned and went back to their tasks, talking among themselves in low tones. Wulfrede rounded upon Conan.
'I always knew the Cimmerians were fighting men,' said the Van. 'I never expected to encounter one who was sly and subtle.'
'The Aquilonians said that they are not interested in tradin
g profits. I do not think they'll object to splitting the gain among the men in return for a docile crew.''
'And this trading company?' Wulfrede asked.
'Who knows?' Conan answered. 'If this voyage proves as profitable as I hope, I may form the company myself.'
Wulfrede roared with laughter and clapped Conan upon the shoulder.
'I think you will make a good sailing companion, Cimmerian! A man who is quick with his wits as well as with his sword is more than a whole crew of landsmen. And I can see that you know ships.' The Van leaned upon the rail and did not look at Conan as he spoke his next words. 'Few men sail as far south as you say you have. I've sailed up and down these coasts for many a year, and I have never met a merchant skipper who has been more than four days south of the Zarkheba unless he was blown far south by a storm. And those wasted no time in turning back north as soon as the winds were favourable.'
'It is an unfriendly coast,' Conan said non-committally.
'And yet . . .' the Van said, hesitantly, 'and yet there are tales. Tales one hears in the sailor's dives from Kordava to Khemi, tales of the black corsairs. Some years ago they became truly feared when a whole fleet of them united under a woman named Bêlit, a Shemitish she-devil. She turned the coast of Kush into a slaughterhouse. It is said that, for a while, she had a consort, a man as wild as she was. Little more than a youth, the story goes, but fierce as a tiger, and of a nation nobody of the south knew, a big, black-haired warrior, so they say. Some few got close enough to claim that he had blue eyes. Did you ever hear these tales?' He pretended interest in the unloading of his cargo.
'Drunken men say many foolish things,' Conan grumbled. 'It is unwise to give much credit to tavern talk.'
'Aye, no doubt you are right. What difference does it make now anyway? It was many years ago. The wench was slain and the man . . . well, the man disappeared, no one knows whither.''
'That is true,' Conan said. 'Now, I want to see the rest of the ship.'
The Conan Chronology Page 514