The Sin in the Steel

Home > Other > The Sin in the Steel > Page 13
The Sin in the Steel Page 13

by Ryan Van Loan


  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I think they—” A muffled shout behind me drew both of us over. Eld’s sword made shorter work of the canvas now that he had freedom to move. A moment later the captain’s lanky figure emerged, aided by a hand from Eld. “I think they missed the hull and hit the mast instead.”

  The captain turned in a slow circle, eyes unfocused, but they snapped back to sharpness when he saw the dead woman beneath the wheel. “They knew,” he muttered.

  “Knew what?”

  The man glanced at Eld as if not seeing him. “They knew we’d try to maneuver, so they loaded chain instead of ball.” He searched around and then kicked a length of chain with a small ball still attached to the one end. “Each tried to outwit the other. We lost.” He surveyed the deck where the first mate, alive but bleeding freely from his bald head, was trying to kick the few sailors on their feet into some semblance of order. “We lost,” he repeated.

  “We can still turn.” Eld pointed at the unmanned wheel. “We’ll lose speed, but surely we’ll be able to send a few salvos over to weaken them first.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. I’d finally spotted the Widowmaker’s ship and while she was more than several hundred paces away, she was closing fast with full sail while the Sea Dragon limped along. We’d never be able to turn with enough speed to get the edge on her now. “They’re coming up fast.”

  “Gods damn it,” the captain spat. One eye was darkening from a bruise, but he glared at me from the good one. “If I had done as I wanted, we would have sent her to the depths.”

  “Likely,” I agreed. “But I couldn’t risk you doing so before we knew it was the Widowmaker.”

  “You gambled with all of our lives,” he growled. “Do you think this a game?”

  “Life’s a game,” I told him. He was on the edge of doing something foolish, but I wasn’t worried. “If you lose, it’s over. If you win, you get to keep playing. And you gambled right along with me. It’s your ship, your toss.”

  “I never would have been here, if not for you.” He gestured at Ulia’s body. “She would still be drawing breath if not for you.”

  “And you as well,” I told him. “Your plan would have worked too well—I needed a plan that worked just well enough.” There’s something in me that can’t help but kick a man when he’s down. Or a woman, for that matter, but generally I find men at my feet more often than women.

  It’s a dark piece, left over from the streets, I think, or else something broken in my moral compass. Either way, I was no more able to stop the smile from touching my lips than the waves were able to stop crashing against the ship. “And you made it happen, Captain. I’m sure the Company will keep that in mind if you make it out of this.”

  “You. Fucking. Bitch!” He screamed the last and reached for the pistole in his belt. “I’m going to blow your—” His face disappeared in a flash of metal and he tumbled into the wheel before falling on top of the dead woman. The wheel turned slowly from the impact, but the Sea Dragon barely registered it.

  “He had a point, Buc.” Eld wiped his hilt clean against the canvas. And that’s why I wasn’t worried. Still, too polite to stab a man in the back apparently. “Why sacrifice an entire crew for one woman? Why give her the upper hand?”

  “Every choice is a gamble,” I said. I almost shrugged, but I could see the anger in him and for once, I didn’t feel like feeding it. I leaned against the railing and watched the Widowmaker’s ship begin to align itself parallel to us. “I simply ran the odds and chose the best option. If we’d followed his plan, Salina would have hung us on uncertainty. At the very least, she wouldn’t have given us a share in the Company.”

  “Aye? So how does this play out? If the Widowmaker is in the business of sinking every ship on this lane—and so far all the evidence says she is—then we’re going to die.”

  “Perhaps.” The Widowmaker’s second volley was shot of the more solid kind, and the Sea Dragon shivered from the impact. The deck was surprisingly untouched, save for a piece of railing that exploded, but the ship lurched and the last of its speed disappeared. “My aim is to remake the world, Eld. I won’t fail because of half measures or bad gambles.” I glanced at him. “If that’s your aim too, then so much the better, but if it’s not, at least don’t stand in my way.” We stared at each other. The only sound was that of the first mate ordering the cannons run out.

  “I don’t have to like it,” he said finally. He sighed and scrubbed at his eyes. “There should be a better way.”

  “Then find me one,” I said. I turned back to the pirates closing fast on our port side as half our cannon exploded in flame, but as the smoke cleared, I could see they’d fired too soon. Grape won’t carry like round, not at that distance. “Until then, find some rope and be quick about it.”

  “What?”

  “Just do it,” I said. Eld shook his head, but it only took him a few moments to cut a few lengths of rope from the piles of canvas strewn about. He held out a length and arched an eyebrow. “Now tie my hands. Tie them!” I glanced back over my shoulder, silently counting breaths since the Widowmaker’s last volley. I felt Eld slip the rope’s ends around my wrists and pull it taut. “We don’t have much time. You’re going to have to pull harder than that,” I added.

  “Any harder and you’ll have marks,” Eld spat.

  “That’s what I’m looking for. Burn me, damn it.” Pain lanced through my fingers as he tightened the bonds and my hands grew darker than the rest of my skin from lack of blood flow. “Good, now cut me loose but leave the loops on my wrists.”

  “You make no sense,” Eld muttered as he drew his sword again.

  “And you never trust me,” I said.

  “I saw where that got the captain,” he said.

  “You wound me,” I mocked. “Now it’s your turn,” I said. He set his sword against the railing and held out his wrists. I wasn’t experienced in knot tying, but I’d read a few books and one not too long ago, so I didn’t have to close my eyes to see the images. “You can trust me with anything, Eld.” I finished the second loop and pulled as hard as I could. “So long as you don’t cross me.”

  “Ouch!” he yelped. “Fuck sake, Buc, if I’d known you were going to try to amputate my hands, I would have pulled a lot harder. You should have gone first.”

  I caught up his sword and cut him free. “Aye, I was thinking the same thing.” I handed back his sword and he took it, rubbing his wrists together as he did so. I pointed over my shoulder. “We need to go over the rail.”

  “Throw ourselves into the sea? Are you mad?”

  “The Widowmaker is riding a swell and her guns are aimed low. Our ship is taking on water.” I sighed. Sometimes the need to spell everything out is more exasperating than anything else. “She’s aiming for the powder magazine, whether she realizes it or not. Frobisher says a crack Imperial crew can fire a broadside every hundred and fifty breaths while a typical crew is closer to twice that. I don’t know how great the Widowmaker’s sailors are, but I’m guessing they aren’t typical and it’s already been one hundred eighty breaths.”

  “So we jump overboard?” Eld asked. He swallowed hard and shook his head. “Isn’t that the last thing you’re supposed to do?”

  “Only if you’re the captain—which we’re not,” I said. Not that I would have stayed if I had captain’s bars on my shoulders. Only a fool plays to lose.

  “I’m not sure that’s a great plan, Buc.”

  “One hundred ninety,” I counted. “It’s either that or get blown up. And her ship is in that direction anyway,” I added.

  “Fuck me,” he muttered, but followed me down the steps.

  The main deck was slick with blood and sea spray. Just what I’d promised the captain would happen to the pirates, only then I hadn’t accounted for the Widowmaker. I won’t discount her again. The pirates were close enough that I could hear someone yelling. Not yelling. Shouting commands. Fuck. “Dive
down and swim underwater for all the breath you have!”

  “I’m not an idiot, Buc,” Eld growled. “But first—”

  “Too late!” I screamed. I grasped his hand and heaved, spinning in a circle. I barely reach Eld’s chest, but my momentum and the slick deck made up for it. He hit the railing and catapulted into the sea and I followed, letting my momentum swing me over the rail. I’d like to say I made a graceful entrance into the water, but the best that can be said is I didn’t flop so much as sink like a stone. Dark blues and greens filled my vision and I wasn’t sure if I was swimming away from the Sea Dragon or back toward it. I’d killed the captain for playing those odds, but sometimes you’ve a knife at your back and the only thing to do is grin and toss the dice and hope they don’t come up pips.

  My dress pulled me down or, more likely, my knives, and it was all I could do to move forward in the water and not sink. My lungs screamed and I could feel my eyes bulging when something swatted me from behind and twisted me down and around until my wits were well and truly scrambled. Can’t breathe. Only the bubbles trickling from the corners of my mouth gave me an inkling of which direction to head.

  I clawed upward, fighting the sea. I could feel the salt assaulting my lips, lunging for my lungs. Can’t breathe. All I wanted to do was open my mouth, water or no. Everything in me screamed for it. Breathe. I couldn’t resist any longer. I had to give in. I had to open my mouth. I had to.

  I broke through the surface with a giant gulp and surprised myself by sucking in air instead of water. I splashed back down, sunk below a wave, and resurfaced, greedily sucking more air into my lungs. It was hot and harsh, but life-giving. And then I looked up and realized what I’d taken for the sun was the burning hulk of a ship. The deck was a writhing inferno of canvas and wood; a few dark shapes danced in the flames. It was listing so heavily to port that it looked as if it would tip at any moment and send the flames toward me, exacting revenge for the part I’d played in its demise.

  “Gods,” I breathed.

  “Nothing good comes from the sea,” Eld said, treading water beside me. His blond locks were plastered to his forehead and a small cut bled over his left eye, but otherwise he looked fine. “Let’s hope the Widowmaker takes pity on us.”

  I couldn’t keep the laugh within my chest. He laughed too, after a mulling over his words, then froze. I followed his stare and saw the pirate ship less than a stone’s throw away, holding itself back from the fires of the Sea Dragon.

  “If they see us,” I said.

  “Flotsam off starboard!” The lookout’s voice was clear—somehow the crackling sound of the Sea Dragon burning and the never-ending churn of the waves was small beside the voice high in the crow’s nest above us. “Two still swimming.”

  “It’s about time our luck changed,” Eld grunted.

  “There’s no such thing as luck,” I said.

  A rope landed between the two of us. “Grab hold or drown, I don’t care which!” another voice shouted.

  “Bullshit there isn’t,” Eld said.

  I rolled my eyes, but there was nothing to be done but grab the rope. Eld slipped an arm through it and then we flew across the water as it was drawn back up. For a breath I thought they meant to bludgeon us off the ship’s hull, but the tension eased as we neared the side. Those above shifted to a slow, steady pull that allowed us to stick our feet out, between us and the ship, so that we nearly walked up the side as we were lifted from the water. I’d been sweating a few moments before, but now that I was drenched, the winds pulling at my sodden dress sent gooseflesh across my skin.

  “L-let me d-do the talking-g,” I chattered.

  “Your plan w-with the r-ropes?” Eld asked through blue lips.

  “R-remember how we got into th-the gaolship to find Kaisa’s missing heir?” I couldn’t force anything else out by that point, but I saw understanding glimmer in Eld’s eyes. It felt like hours but must have been heartbeats before we reached the railing and a dozen hands appeared, dragging us onto the deck. My knees were knocking from the cold, but I managed to fend everyone off and draw myself up. Never let the fuckers see you down; that was as true now as it had been on the streets. I opened my mouth to paint our tale, but a foul-looking bastard with a grizzled beard and a patch over one eye beat me to it.

  “Look wot the sea barfed up.” He jabbed a short-bladed cutlass at us. “Now for a little bit of sport, lads!”

  20

  “Sport?” a husky feminine voice called from over old ugly’s shoulder. The man bristled; something dark flashed briefly across his gob. “You wouldn’t be having fun without your captain, would ye?”

  “Course not,” the man said, scratching at his beard with his free hand. His other kept twitching the cutlass in his fist. The rest of the crew around us took a few steps back, but before he could move, a tall figure swooped in behind him, nearly knocking him over with a pat on the shoulder. “Captain,” he added.

  The woman kept her arm around the man’s shoulder as she peered down at us. Her dark hair was held back by a red bandanna, and white sulfurous match cords were interwoven into dozens of braids. Striking as that was, her features were more so. I hadn’t been expecting beauty from a pirate captain, but the Widowmaker—it had to be her—was beautiful. Olive oil skin that wasn’t as naturally dark as mine had been bronzed by the sun, and the contrast with her angled midnight-green eyes and small pink lips only added to her beauty. She wore a cloak that obscured some of her figure; the dozen pistoles tied on and beneath her cloak left the rest to fantasy. I had a feeling that was no accident. Her tongue darted out as she inspected us, gaze swiftly going to the ropes around our hands, then Eld’s cut, then our eyes.

  “I see flotsam, not sport, Myles.” She squeezed his shoulder and straightened with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She stood a full head and shoulders over him. “I’ll just have a chat with them, shall I, whilst you carry on with your duties. Gem!” she yelled over her shoulder. “You got need of Myles?”

  A man nearly as wide as he was tall looked up from a group gathered around a smoking cannon. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  “Well, there you go, Myles. They say a needed man is a wealthy one.” She squeezed his shoulder yet again and I saw that dark look shiver up the grizzled man’s features to his one remaining eye. “What say you?”

  “Aye,” he muttered.

  “Dulcet tones to my ears,” she said with that same smile that didn’t rise above her mouth. She let him go and Myles gave us a hard look as he turned away. “The rest of you best get back to securing the ship and looking for any other ‘flotsam.’” She looked past us and sighed. “Although I doubt there’s much left but charred timbers.” She drew a gear-work pistole with over-under barrels and inspected it, twisting it in her hands. “Go on now. I’ll just have a chat with our new friends.”

  The rest of the crew moved off quickly, but not so quickly that I couldn’t tell a few were worried about leaving their captain alone with two of the enemy. I filed that away, along with what I’d learned about her when she looked us over. She’d taken an account of what our clothes and bodies told her before looking at our eyes. Wise, that—the eyes can hide any number of lies.

  She pointed the pistole in our general direction and motioned with it. “Now, I’ve just kept Myles from his sport, so hopefully you won’t leave me disappointed. What’s the name of the ship I just sank and what were you two doing on it?” She cocked the hammer. “And the fewer lies you put past your lips, the better for all concerned.”

  “W-we were being sent to S-servenza to s-stand trial,” I said through chattering teeth. I held up my wrists to show the loops of rope. “It’s a long tale.”

  “Aye? Aren’t they all?” The woman laughed, then pointed with her free hand toward the rear of the ship. “You two are going to go into shock if you don’t get warmed up. I’m not letting you belowdecks until I hear your long tale. Long on detail and not on fabrications, I hope,” she added. “There’s a brazier t
hat can be lit back there and I’ll see about some coats. Until then, I don’t want to hear or see anything pass between the two of you.”

  “Don’t t-trust us?” I asked.

  “Would you, were you me?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Good. Keep that honesty on your tongue and things will go a sight smoother all around. Now march that a way and I’ll be along behind to help guide you.”

  Eld and I glanced at each other, but there was nothing to do with her pistole trained on us. He put a hand on my arm and we began stumbling down the deck. Most of the sailors seemed concerned with the one cannon that was out of commission, but a few here and there moved out of our way with a nod or touch of the forehead as they acknowledged their captain. All seemed relatively well-fed and none had signs of scurvy or malnutrition that I could see. The lines were all tied and the deck was clean given they’d just fought a battle. Taken together, it seemed like the Widowmaker was at least as efficient as the Sea Dragon’s captain. Then again, she’d won, so there was that.

  “Now,” she said when Gem appeared with two overcoats in his arms and the brazier was glowing from the heat of burning coals, “settle in and give me your stories.”

  “Stories,” I repeated, surprised that my teeth had stopped knocking together. “I’m not one for ventures…” I began, making sure my eyes never left hers. Liars often avoid eye contact—worried that their lies will show. But if you’re going to lie from the beginning, it’s best to let your eyes do the talking for you. “Eld isn’t either, but we’d some money aside. Nothing burns a hole faster. Bought into the Gilded Flower Plantation and came across. To see the venture.” I spoke in clipped tones, biting the words off and leaving no space between them so that one sentence bled into the other. “Ship was bad. Too fast. Still we made time. Time to see the venture.” I could see her mate’s brow furrow. “Check on our stake and then we—”

 

‹ Prev