Privateer

by Margaret Weis

  Wrapped in the silence, Kate drew near to the ship. As a wrecker, she had made her living off the carcasses of wrecked ships like this one. She had viewed with callous regard the lives that had been lost in the storm, the dreams destroyed. From now on, she would never look at a wrecked ship the same way.

  She touched solid ground and slid out of the chair. She tugged on the ropes and waved to let Phillip and Thomas know she was safe. Thomas waved back and Phillip hauled the chair up.

  As Kate looked around the site of the wreck, she was overwhelmed by hopelessness and despair. Nothing could have survived. Another riptide rippled past, almost blowing her over and causing the bosun’s chair to swing wildly as it rose through the air.

  “Olaf!” Kate shouted. “Akiel! Marco! Are you there?”

  No one answered. Kate began to climb among the wreckage, shifting broken planks and shoving aside debris, searching for anyone who might be still alive.

  Searching for bodies.

  She was wearing the peacoat, but no gloves, and her hands were soon numb with the cold, which proved to be an advantage, or so she told herself. She couldn’t feel the pain of the numerous cuts and bruises.

  She found pools of blood and blood splatters. She found no survivors, but no bodies either and that puzzled her.

  Then she understood.

  “My brain must be going as numb as my feet,” Kate muttered.

  She started her search again, but now she left the wreck and concentrated on searching the area around it.

  Akiel had explained to her that he required a spark from living things in order to fuel his spirit magic. That spark could come from something as small as a blade of grass, but he needed life. The ship had crashed onto the side of a mountain. The ground was barren and stony, no plants, no trees, not even lichen in the vicinity of the wreck. But Kate could see patches of green not far away.

  She scrambled over the rocks, calling out for her friends.

  “Olaf! Akiel! Marco!”

  “Mum!” a voice called back. “Is that you?”

  “Akiel!” Kate cried, overwhelmed with emotion.

  The big man appeared, climbing over the top of a small rise, waving as he came. He had a wound on his head. The white, bloodstained bandage made a startling contrast to his black skin. But he was smiling.

  Kate started toward him, but he waved her away.

  “Wait there, mum!”

  He looked back over his shoulder and motioned with his arm. “Come along!” he shouted.

  “Olaf!” Kate yelled. “How is Olaf?”

  In answer, she heard his voice. “Is that our Kate?”

  “I’m here, Olaf!” Kate shouted.

  “I knew you’d come for us!”

  Olaf came in sight, hobbling over the uneven surface, propped up by a crude crutch made from a tree limb. Kate ran to him and flung her arms around his neck and clung to him as tears rolled down her cheeks. He dropped his crutch to put his arms around her, patting her on the back.

  “Don’t cry, Katydid,” he said, chiding her. “Your tears will freeze.”

  He pulled back to observe her and his expression darkened. Akiel was staring at her, wide-eyed and frowning.

  “Mum!” he exclaimed, shocked. “Where is your hair?”

  “Your face is bruised. What happened to you, Kate? What did those Rosian fiends do to you?” Olaf demanded.

  “It’s a long story and it doesn’t matter now,” Kate said. She looked past Akiel, expecting to see the rest of the crew. No one else was there and Kate felt stifled. She looked from him to Olaf.

  “Where are the others?” she faltered. Reaching out, she clutched Akiel. “There must be more!”

  “We left them in the cave until we were certain who was here. Twenty-two survived. Eight dead,” Olaf reported. He paused, then added, “Including Marco.”

  “Marco!” Kate gazed at him in dismay.

  “He was standing at the helm. A cannonball…” Olaf didn’t go on. “He died a quick death, Kate. He never saw it coming.”

  Kate remembered Marco, always cheerful and smiling. He had been saving money to buy his own ship.

  “Oh, Olaf, this was all my fault,” she said.

  “Now, you know that is not true, Katydid,” said Olaf stoutly. “Share the risks, share the rewards. Every man knows that when he makes his mark on the contract.”

  He rested his hand on her shoulder. “You did what you thought was best. It wasn’t you that fired the cannonball that killed Marco.”

  “It was me who put him in the way of it,” said Kate.

  Olaf tightened his grip on her. Kate smiled and put her hand over his.

  “Where are the rest of the crew?” she asked more briskly.

  “In a cave we found,” said Akiel. “When we heard the pistol shot, we couldn’t see who was firing. Olaf was afraid it might be the Rosians come to finish us off. I told them to wait while I went to see what was going on. I told Olaf to wait, as well, but he is a stubborn old man.”

  “I knew it was you,” said Olaf. “I knew you’d come for us.”

  His face was pinched with the cold. Akiel looked gray and haggard. They both must be starving, for they had gone days without food. They could say it wasn’t her fault, but she knew better.

  “I will go fetch the others,” Akiel offered.

  “Bring them to the site of the wreck,” said Kate. “We can’t sail down because of the riptides. We’ll have to figure out how to transport everyone.”

  Akiel left, climbing back among the rocks.

  “The Rose is up above, tied to a boulder,” Kate told Olaf as they slowly made their way back to what remained of the Victorie. “They lowered me down in the bosun’s chair. We can’t haul everyone back up the same way, though. That would take hours and I’m not sure that the ropes would hold.”

  “How many times did I tell you to replace those old ropes?” Olaf scolded her, smiling.

  Kate squeezed his hand. “I promise I will listen to you from now on.”

  Olaf snorted. “And pigs will fly like dragons. The riptides moderate around sunset. You could bring the Rose down then, though that will mean sailing through the Deep Breath after dark.”

  “We’ll manage,” said Kate. “No one wants to spend another night here. We don’t have that far to travel to reach the cove. My crew are a couple of lubbers, but they’ll do. You know one of them. Remember Pip?”

  “Pip?” Olaf repeated, astonished. “You mean Captain Alan’s Pip?”

  “The same. I told you I met with him in Braffa when Dalgren and I were doing that job for Sir Henry. I ran into him again here in the Aligoes.”

  Olaf was dubious. “Pip, you say. That young man never drew a sober breath, leastwise not that I ever saw.”

  “He was putting on an act,” Kate explained. “He was a spy for Alan. He did some very dangerous work during the war.”

  Olaf grunted, unconvinced. “Who else?”

  “A friend of Pip’s,” Kate said. “His name is Tom. He … he’s a soldier.”

  She felt herself blushing and that was infuriating because Olaf would think she cared about this man, and that wasn’t true. Unfortunately, the more she tried to stop blushing, the more she blushed. She averted her face, rubbed her hands, and stamped her feet.

  “I could use one of Akiel’s warming spells about now!”

  “We would be dead men if it weren’t for Akiel,” said Olaf. “I always mistrusted that spirit magic of his, as you well know. What with him talking to ghosts and trees and the like. But he kept us alive, Katydid. He tended to our wounds and found water. We managed to salvage a few bits of wood from the ship to burn, but once that was gone, he used his magic to heat rocks to keep us warm. He did all that even though he was hurt himself.”

  “Akiel will have a home with us for as long as he wants it,” said Kate.

  Olaf shook his head. “What sort of home, Katydid? Where will we go? We can’t show our faces in the Aligoes. The Rosians brand us pirates. I sup
pose we could sail to Bheldem. No one knows us there. We could go back to wrecking…”

  “Never!” said Kate firmly. “Being down here reminds me how much I hate that life.”

  “Then what?” Olaf asked.

  “I have a plan,” said Kate.

  Olaf usually gave a disbelieving snort when he heard her say she had a plan, for he’d had some experience with her plans before, and none of it good. This time, he cleared his throat and wiped his red-rimmed eyes.

  “You don’t really, do you?”

  “No, but I will,” said Kate. She hugged him and they walked on in silence.

  When they reached the site of the wreck, Olaf looked up at the Rose floating overhead.

  “Good old girl,” he said. “She never lets us down.”

  Kate could see both Phillip and Thomas leaning over the rail, worriedly gazing down at the wreck. When Kate waved to Phillip to let him know to send down the chair, he and Thomas both gave a cheer.

  As Phillip began lowering the chair, Kate tried to estimate the amount of time remaining until sunset, but she was so cold she was finding it hard to think. She looked around the remains of her beloved ship. The helm she had salvaged and restored was gone, completely destroyed. Marco must have been standing there …

  “Tell me what happened,” she said.

  “Akiel and I were on the quarterdeck,” said Olaf. “The same shot that killed Marco took out the helm and the magic. The airscrews stopped, and the lift tanks failed. Then there was an explosion. Fire was everywhere, and we started sinking fast. That’s all I remember until I woke up to find Akiel hauling me out of the burning wreckage. What happened to you?”

  “The anchor was fouled. I finally managed to knock it loose, and I tried to go back on board,” Kate said. “But then the powder magazine blew up. The Rosian marines took me prisoner. I heard the ship crash and I knew there would be survivors. I begged the Rosian captain to send a rescue boat, but he refused. They took me to prison…”

  Kate faltered and fell silent.

  “They were going to hang you, weren’t they, Kate?” said Olaf.

  “But they didn’t,” said Kate stoutly. “Pip and Tom helped me escape—”

  “You shouldn’t have come back for us. You put yourself in danger,” Olaf said, glowering.

  “If the Rosians hadn’t been trying to capture me, we wouldn’t have been attacked in the first place. They won’t find me down here, at least,” said Kate, smiling. “I’m safe enough for the time being.”

  She hurried over to catch the bosun’s chair as it descended, telling Olaf, “Go up to the ship. Pip can take the helm, but he’ll need your help. Bring the Rose down when you think it’s safe. I’ll wait here for Akiel and the others.”

  Olaf protested, insisting she should go back up in the chair, but Kate was adamant. She saw him settled on the plank, along with his crutch, then she waved to Thomas and Phillip to haul him up.

  She watched nervously until Olaf reached the ship and Thomas signaled to her that he was safely on board. Kate sat down on a rock, huddled inside the peacoat, and clamped her jaw shut to keep her teeth from chattering.

  The next hour she kept busy helping Akiel tend to the rest of the crew. Two men had broken legs and had to be carried. The others had various injuries ranging from burns and cuts to fractured arms and ribs. Akiel continued to keep them warm with his magic, but Kate could see that he was near exhaustion. She looked up at the Rose, hoping Olaf would come soon.

  At last the gray mists began to darken. The Rose released the tether and sailed down to the site of the wreck. At the welcome sight of the old ship, the survivors raised a ragged cheer.

  Once Olaf landed the Rose on a relatively level patch of ground not far from the wreck, Thomas lowered the gangplank and hurried down to help her with the wounded.

  “Olaf says to work fast,” Thomas told Kate. “He doesn’t want to keep the ship here long.”

  Kate could see that for herself. The riptides might not be as severe, but magical currents were buffeting the balloons and whipping through the rigging.

  “Don’t say anything to Olaf about working with the Rosian navy,” Kate said. “He’s had a belly full of Rosians.”

  “I figured that out myself,” said Thomas with a grin.

  He worked tirelessly, assisting Kate with the walking wounded, helping to carry litters. He spoke cheerfully to the sailors, asking them about their families, trying to make them forget the pain and hunger and the bone-chilling cold, even though his own lips were blue. He kept an eye on Akiel, and he was at his side when the big man collapsed, his strength finally giving way now that rescue was at hand.

  Sometimes, as they worked together and Thomas looked over at Kate and smiled, she couldn’t help but smile back.

  He must have been a good officer, Kate thought to herself. And then he had to ruin it by being a prince.

  “That’s everyone,” Thomas reported when he had helped the last man come on board.

  Kate cast a final look at Victorie in the deepening gloom. Akiel had told her that Marco’s spirit had moved on, freed of the confines of flesh and bone. If Victorie had a spirit, perhaps the ship had moved on, as well. The two of them were together, sailing the Breath in some faraway place.

  As for her dreams, she would find new ones.

  “Hurry up, Kate!” Phillip called.

  She said good-bye and hurried up the gangplank. Thomas pulled it up after her. Phillip sent magic flooding through the lift tanks. The Rose sailed into the night.

  Kate did not look back.

  ELEVEN

  After a tense journey sailing blind in the darkness, the Rose at last broke through the mists and left the Deep Breath, emerging into a clear, warm night glittering with stars and a round, radiant moon. Kate guided the ship into the cove, where Thomas and Phillip tethered it to the trees. The survivors had been fed and were now sleeping on the deck, comforted by nourishment and warmth.

  Kate insisted that Olaf sleep in her cabin. She fussed over him, covering him with blankets, making a pillow of her coat, and urging him to drink some cider. When he was settled, she sat down at his side.

  “I was glad to see Pip again,” said Olaf drowsily. “Even more glad to see him sober. I like his friend—that fellow, Tom. He thinks the world of you, Kate. He talked of nothing else.”

  “Tom is a glib talker,” said Kate dryly. “Go to sleep.”

  Olaf sighed and closed his eyes.

  “I knew you would come for us, Katydid,” he murmured.

  Kate clasped his hand and sat by his side until he drifted off, then she went back up on deck.

  The ship was quiet save for the sounds of snoring. Akiel had wakened long enough to eat something and then he had stretched out on the deck and gone back to sleep. Kate moved among her crew, covering them with blankets, making certain all were as comfortable as possible.

  Thomas and Phillip were both awake, deep in discussion on the quarterdeck. They spoke in low voices so as not to wake anyone, and stopped as Kate approached them.

  “You two look guilty,” said Kate. She was in a good humor with all the world at the moment. “What are you plotting?”

  “Olaf wants to go back to running the Parrot, but he doesn’t think he can,” said Pip. “He’s afraid he and the others will be arrested as pirates, and he’s probably right. The Rosian navy will reduce its presence in the Aligoes, but they’ll never leave altogether. Tom had an idea.”

  “I believe I can obtain pardons for them,” said Thomas.

  “Could you?” Kate gasped. “That would be wonderful!”

  “Captain Favager is not well liked among the officers,” Thomas explained. “No one believes his account of the battle. The dragons of the Dragon Brigade witnessed the entire incident. They reported to their captain that your ship had surrendered before he fired on it.”

  “Thorgrimson was also aware that you and your crew were privateers, men holding letters of marque from Freya,” Phillip added. “S
ir Henry will use this incident to embarrass King Renaud. The Freyan press will be howling for Rosian blood. It would be much better for everyone if the king can persuade the Admiralty to hush this up.”

  “The best way to do that would be for Renaud to issue pardons to your crew,” Thomas said. “They would have to lie low for a time—”

  “They can stay on board the Rose,” said Kate eagerly. “The ship can shelter in the cove. We’ll use the island hopper to ferry food and supplies from Freeport.”

  Thomas and Phillip both exchanged grave glances.

  “I am afraid we cannot do the same for you, Kate,” said Thomas. “Miss Amelia’s newspaper stories about Captain Kate have made you notorious. Every week, Kate does battle against murderous Rosians who are depicted as bloodthirsty, cowardly swine. The Freyan public loves it, but, sadly, the entire Rosian nation truly hates you.”

  Kate brushed that aside. “Just as long as Olaf and Akiel and the others are safe and Olaf can go back home. I don’t plan on staying in Freeport long anyway.”

  “Where will you go?” Thomas asked. “Back to Freya?”

  Kate did not immediately answer. She had not planned on telling Olaf or anyone where she was going.

  “You can trust us to keep your secret,” said Phillip, mistaking her hesitation for doubt.

  “I know I can,” said Kate. “It’s just … I need your help and I don’t like to ask. You have done so much for me and my friends already.”

  “You can ask us for anything,” Thomas assured her.

  Kate plunged ahead. “I’m going to the Dragon Duchies to find Dalgren. I told you he went there to visit his family. That wasn’t exactly true. He went back to stand trial for desertion from the Dragon Brigade.”

  “Desertion!” Thomas repeated, his expression grave and troubled. “That is a serious charge. In the Estaran army, he would stand before a firing squad.”

  “But he can’t be guilty,” Phillip protested. “Not Dalgren. This must be a mistake.”

  “He is guilty,” said Kate. “But he had a good reason. There was a battle, he was wounded, and he saw his friends dying…”