Corsair (23 page)

“Narsk didn’t give us much of a chance to explain ourselves,” Hamil added. He stood up from beside Narsk’s body and moved over to stand beside Geran. “He rang the bell and called all hands on deck, and then he went after Aram. His final mistake, as it turned out.” To Geran he added, Not bad, but don’t say too much more!

“Narsk is dead, Sorsil is dead, and Khefen’s naught but a fat, useless drunk,” Murkelmor said. “I’d like to know who captains Moonshark now.”

“I do,” Geran said at once. If he was going to try to bluff his way out of this, it might as well be a brazen ploy. He winced a little, realizing that he had no idea what that might mean at the moment. Before he could think better of the idea, he pressed on. “By the traditions of the Black Moon, I claim command. Narsk is dead by my sword. I’m captain of Moonshark.”

The crew muttered uncertainly. Some men shouted “No!” or “Not so fast,” while others cried “No, Skamang!” or “Khefen!” instead.

I hope you know what you’re doing, Geran, Hamil said. This’ll be another fight.

“He’s got th’ right t’ make his claim,” Murkelmor said. The old dwarf shook his head. “We all saw it. This is no’ the way it should be, but Khefen’s no captain, and Sorsil’s as dead as Narsk if Aram’s speaking true. My fist stands for Aram.”

“Mine doesn’t,” Skamang snarled. “I won’t follow some stranger who’s been aboard Moonshark less than a tenday simply because he bested the gnoll.” He pointed the spike of his boarding axe at Geran. “I say I’m the captain of this ship.”

Before Geran, the sixty-odd brigands, outlaws, cutthroats, and pirates who made up the ship’s crew stood watching him—and each other— as they waited to see whether he or Skamang would seize control of the ship. No one wanted to be remembered later for backing the wrong man now. Geran forced himself to put on a cold, confident sneer as he studied the ship’s crew. The appearance of confidence might be the difference between life and death—not just for himself, but for hundreds of Hulburgans too. He had to make the crew think he was as hard and deadly as a well-sharpened blade, or Skamang might succeed in overthrowing him. In that case, Geran had no guarantee that the Northman would let him live, let alone sail Moonshark in the direction he needed to go.

“A ship can’t have two captains,” Murkelmor growled. “It’s no’ possible.”

“No, it’s not,” Geran agreed. He fixed his eyes on Skamang, mustering every ounce of icy contempt that he could find. “Will you fight me yourself this time, or do you want to send your ogre to die in your place? My fist will stay out of this if yours docs the same.”

“Your fist? All two of them?” The Northman laughed. “Drop that cutlass, let every man on this deck hear you call me captain, and I’ll let this whole thing pass. You and your friends can go ashore the next time we make port, with no hard feelings.”

I doubt that it would be that simple, Hamil told Geran. He’ll kill you if you give in now, just to make sure no one else thinks they ought to be in command.

“In other words, you don’t want to meet me with steel in your hand,” Geran retorted. If he could goad the Northman into a duel, he might be able to take the ship with a single sword stroke. He risked a quick glance

over at Sarth, who stood near the foot of the ladder up to the quarterdeck. Sarth had a tight grimace on his face, but he gave Geran the slightest of nods. Whatever came, he would be ready.

Skamang’s laughter faded, and a hard edge came into his voice. “I won’t be in such a generous mood if you keep up with this nonsense. You might not care whether you live or die, but I’ll gut any man that stands with you and toss him over the side.”

“D’you mean to gut me too, Skamang?” Murkelmor said. The dwarf took two steps toward where Geran and his friends stood, and turned to face the Northman. “Aram’s got me fist at his back, if that’s slipped your mind. We stand wi’ him.”

Skamang scowled at Murkelmor. But then Tao Zhe stepped out of the crew and went to stand by Geran too. The old Shou cook’s footsteps broke the remaining indecision among the crew, and in twos or threes most of the rest of the men shifted over to Geran’s side. Only the half-dozen goblins and half-ores remained by Skamang’s fist, and they began to mutter and shift restlessly as they realized that their party was now outnumbered.

Seems like Skamang and his allies haven’t endeared themselves to the rest of the crew, Hamil observed to Geran.

Geran straightened his shoulders and allowed himself a small smile. He’d been afraid that the crew would choose the devil they knew instead of the devil they didn’t. The Northman was a longtime veteran of Moonshark, after all, and no one had any doubts about his prowess or his ruthlessness. On the other hand, all they knew of “Aram” was that he knew how to use a blade and that he’d been caught in the middle of some sort of mischief during the watch. Based on that alone, he would have expected the crew to turn against him … but then he realized that no one on Moonshark missed Sorsil or Narsk, and Skamang would have been just as bad as the preceding captain in his own way.

“It looks like the vote’s in, Skamang,” said Geran. “I say I’m the captain. This is your last chance: Yield, or it’s over the side with you and yours. Alive or dead, I don’t much care.”

The Northman’s face darkened in fury, but he could count as well as Geran. He looked around the deck, and then he gave Geran a curt nod. “So be it. You’re the captain. But we’ll be watching you, Aram. Make one mistake, and you’ll see just how quickly those dogs on your side of the deck will turn against you.”

Geran held his eyes for a long moment and then looked around at the rest of the crew assembled on the deck. “Does anybody else take issue with me? Speak now, or hold your tongues later.”

The pirates looked at each other, but no one else stepped forward. Geran nodded. “I thought not,” he said. “Very well, then. Dagger is the new first mate. Vorr is the ship’s mage, as you’ve all seen by now. When they speak, they speak for me. Murkelmor, you’re the second mate. The midwatch is yours.”

“What about Khefen?” the dwarf asked.

“Take him below and lock him in his cabin. I’ll put him ashore the next time we make port. I’ve got no use for him, but he hasn’t done anything to me. You can take Sorsil’s cabin, Murkelmor.”

“Aye, Captain,” Murkelmor said.

Hamil sheathed his daggers, brushed the hair away from his eyes, and stepped out in front of the crew. “What are your orders. Captain?” he asked.

Geran glanced up at the sails, luffing awkwardly as Moonshark drifted downwind. The wind had shifted and strengthened during the last hour, coming around to the northwest. It was promising to be a blustery autumn day on the Moonsea, with a stiff wind that would make for fine sailing— if he didn’t have to sail straight into it, which it now seemed that he did. Already he suspected that the ship was too far east to make Hulburg without hours of laborious tacking. When he’d planned to abandon Moonshark and strike out for Hulburg in the ship’s boat, it would have suited his purposes quite well for the pirate galley to find itself adrift with a damaged rudder, unable to pursue him and too far away to join the attack on the city. Now, with the longboat gone but the ship at his command, he’d have to find a way to bring Moonshark to the shore somewhere near Hulburg. He could order the crew to the oars, but Geran wasn’t so sure of his position that he felt ready to try them with a long stint of rowing just yet.

“The first thing we need to do is repair the rudder,” Geran answered Hamil. “Until we get the rudder fixed, take in all sail. The Black Moon is gathering near the ruins of Seawave at sunset today. By my reckoning that’s a good ways north and west of us yet, and this wind is driving us farther east every minute.”

Rather ironic to order the repair of the rudder you sabotaged not an hour ago, don’t you think? Hamil told Geran with a small smirk. Then he turned

to the crewmen around him. “You heard the captain!” he shouted. “First watch, get aloft and take in the sails! I don’t know about you lads, but I don’t want to spend all day rowing to Hulburg. Looting and pillaging’s no fun when your back’s sore and you’re dog-tired. Master Murkelmor, I know you’re a mate now, but you’re the best carpenter we’ve got on the ship. Have a look at the rudder, if you please.”

The crewmen started to move as Hamil badgered them. Some started aloft to begin reefing in the sails, while Murkelmor motioned for a couple of his fellows to join him on the quarterdeck. Two more men came up to carry Khefen below. Sarth leaned close to Geran. “You’d better have that cut tended,” he said in a low voice. “If you pass out on your feet, we might have to repeat the whole round of challenges.”

Geran lifted his hand from his side and saw blood on his palm. He winced and then looked around for Tao Zhe. The Shou cook was the closest the ship’s company had to a healer. “Tao Zhe! Fetch some hot water and your sewing kit,” he said. “Narsk left me something to remember him by.”

Murkelmor and his helpers began to lay out a new rudder cable. Geran didn’t bother to press him to hurry his repairs; the dwarf knew that the ship’s participation in the attack on Hulburg depended on regaining the ability to maneuver as soon as possible, and he drove his small crew of woodworkers and ropelayers as hard as they could be driven. Geran remained on the quarterdeck, watching Murkelmor work as Tao Zhe in turn worked on him. Narsk’s blade had left a deep gash, but he’d been lucky not to have worse. “I thought Narsk had killed you with this one,” the Shou told him as he stitched the wound. “You were fortunate this morning.”

“It’s not so bad.” Geran gritted his teeth against Tao Zhe’s work. He’d had his wounds sewn more than once, and each time it seemed worse than receiving the wound in the first place.

“Truly I did not expect you to moye so quickly against Narsk when we left Zhentil Keep that morning,” Tao Zhe remarked. “Nor did I expect you to be adept in magic. You seem to be a man of hidden talents.”

“Narsk forced this fight on me. I had no intention of challenging him, but he left me with no choice.”

Tao Zhe nodded. “I am not greatly troubled, mind you—Narsk was not much of a seaman, and he was a greedy and vicious brute. Almost anybody would be a better captain than he was.”

Geran snorted. “My thanks for your confidence.”

The Shou smiled. He glanced around and leaned a little closer, lowering his voice. “What really puzzles me is why Sorsil was attempting to leave the ship. It seems hard to believe that she would desert Moonshark without anything from her cabin, or that she would subdue the other rwo men on watch and hide them under a canvas but leave you and your friends free to stop her from going. I am not a very clever man, but it would seem much more likely to me that three men who’d only been aboard for a tenday were instead conspiring to steal the boat. But if that were the case, then I would still be left to wonder why they wanted to leave Moonshark. How strange that events transpired in the manner you described!”

Geran studied the old Shou carefully. It seemed unlikely that Tao Zhe was the only crewman aboard Moonshark entertaining such thoughts. “Speculation is pointless, Tao Zhe,” he said after a moment.

“Of course. But it is certainly not speculation to observe that you and your comrades are hardly the typical sellswords or outlaws who sail under the Black Moon.”

“What does the crew make of this, then?”

“Because they fear your magic, they will follow you for now,” Tao Zhe answered. “No one liked Narsk—or Sorsil. But you should watch your back. And you should not expect the crew to deal with challengers for you, not until you demonstrate that you are a captain worth following.”

“I understand.”

“I only say what is plainly true,” Tao Zhe answered. He finished with his needlework and covered the wound with a hot compress. “There is little more I can do. It will trouble you for a tenday or so. Try not to get stabbed there again.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

The old Shou grinned. He collected his medicine kit and retreated to his galley.

Murkelmor managed to rig a working rudder cable only a couple of hours after sunrise. With the rudder repaired, Geran was able to turn Moonshark back to the northwest and Hulburg. But the strong autumn wind was directly out of that quarter, and so he had to resign himself to a west by southwesterly tack, heading back out toward the middle of the sea as the pirate ship fought its way back to windward. A gray, stiff chop arose by afternoon, so that Moonshark battered her way through whitecapped

waves as she ran, soaking the decks with cold spray. The rough seas ruled out any idea of taking in sail and putting out oars that Geran might have entertained; rowing was possible under such conditions, but just barely.

In midafternoon Geran decided that he couldn’t afford to extend his tack any farther to the south, and came north to run across the wind. He wasn’t sure if he’d strike the coastline east or west of Hulburg at this point, but he was fairly certain that he’d be nowhere near as far west as the ruins of Seawave. Due to their night of sailing off course and the morning of drifting ahead of the wind, there was no way they’d reach the Black Moon’s rendezvous point. If he had been intending to join the raid on Hulburg, he’d have to steer straight for the city at this point and join the rest of the flotilla there.

Since the afternoon was growing late, he figured he’d better prepare the crew for a change of plan. He called Murkelmor, Tao Zhe, and a few of the other fist leaders together on the quarterdeck about an hour before sunset. “Between the rudder damage and the shifting of the wind, I think we’re too far east of the Black Moon rendezvous to meet up with the other ships,” he told them. “They’re gathering a good twenty miles west of the town in just a couple of hours. But I think we can reach Hulburg by midnight without too much trouble, and that’s what I intend to steer for. We know that’s where the rest of the Black Moon is bound, and we can join the flotilla there.”

“The High Captain will no’ be pleased with us,” Murkelmor said.

“It can’t be helped at this point,” said Geran. “If the attack on Hulburg succeeds, I’d wager that many sins will be forgiven. If not, well, I’ll take the blame.”