Scimitar Sun (16 page)

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Authors: Chris A. Jackson

Tags: #Pirates, #Piracy, #Fantasy fiction, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Sea stories, #General

BOOK: Scimitar Sun
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“Well, they arrived — ”

“Please, Miss Camilla, Mistress Flaxal,” Ghelfan interrupted, his voice now calm, steadying, “this is not the place to discuss this and, I daresay, we would all be more convivial and more cognizant if we sat down and talked it over rationally.”

“You’re right, Ghelfan,” Cynthia acceded. “Let’s go to my rooms. I’ll have dinner brought up.”

As they slowly ascended the steps to the keep, Cynthia leaned heavily on Ghelfan’s arm, her knees unsteady beneath her sarong.


“Who was that?” Edan asked as he and Tim struggled with Edan’s heavy chest. They put it down beside the gangplank, under Mouse’s expert direction, to let two sailors heft it across the gap. Edan had enough trouble just walking across the gangplank without trying to carry anything. The crystal-clear water below unnerved him, but his gaze was on the little group making their way up the stairs to the keep.

“Who, Dura? The dwarf woman?” Tim hopped across the gangplank and grinned. “She’s Ghelfan’s work boss. She can teach you some of the best swear words I’ve — ”

“No, the lady.” Edan crossed over to the pier carefully, trying unsuccessfully to avoid looking down at the roiling water below. Flicker clung to his neck as they crossed, staring down at the water in fright. Mouse orbited them as they crossed, smirking at their obvious unease, which helped matters not at all.

Once on solid ground, Edan shrugged Flicker back into the air and she flew at Mouse, her hair flaring with her temper. The chain brought her up short and she glared at the seasprite, but Mouse just taunted her anew and flew back to Tim’s shoulder. Edan ignored them both, his attention focused again on the object of his fascination. “The one with the red hair.”

“Oh, that’s Miss Cammy,” Tim said, nudging Edan out of the way of a pair of sailors. “She helps Mistress Flaxal with the shipping business, and she teaches school, too.”

“She’s…” Edan found himself at a loss for words; he wanted to say “b
eautiful” but that didn’t even come close to describing her. The way she
moved
, the way her dress flowed when she turned…and her hair! She had red hair like his, but where his hair was red like a carrot, hers was like a sunset; a deep, fiery red shot through with golden streaks. Tim smiled at him, and Mouse, giggling on Tim’s shoulder, made kissing sounds and pointed. Edan willed his blush away. “She’s a
school
teacher?”

“Well, not
just
a school teacher. She pretty much runs Mistress Flaxal’s business, as well as takin’ care of all the stuff around the keep.” The chest was waiting for them, and he bent to lift one end of it. “Come on, let’s get this to yer rooms and I’ll show you around the place.”

“Sure.” Edan lifted his end of the chest and looked around for the first time. The island and keep were impressive, no doubt. “
This
used to be a pirate stronghold?”

“Yeah, but that was before Mistress Flaxal and Captain Feldrin came.” Tim’s voice was a little strange, as if waking from a dream. “It wasn’t a very nice place before that.”

“You saw it before?” Edan asked skeptically, suspecting some kind of joke. “You’re kidding.”

“That’s what I meant when I said Mistress Flaxal saved my life.” The boy’s lower lip wrinkled as he clenched his mouth in a frown. “I was here when she…when it happened. Miss Cammy was here, too. She used to be his.”

“His? Bloodwind’s? What do you mean? Like a slave?”

“More than that. He wanted to make her his wife, and he would have, too, if not for Mistress Flaxal. She didn’t have a choice. Nobody had a choice. You did what he wanted you to do, or you died. Or you were given over to his sorceress, which was worse than dead.”

“I never heard that Bloodwind had a sorceress.”

“Nobody talks about her much. I heard Mistress Flaxal say she was a witch. Demon-possessed, she said, not a real sorceress. I believe it, too.” Edan saw the shudder in Tim’s shoulders and wondered what the boy had gone through. “One look at her and you could see she wasn’t human.”

Edan found it hard to picture the idyllic surroundings as a raucous pirate stronghold ruled by a bloodthirsty tyrant and an evil witch. “And Bloodwind and the witch lived
here
?”

“There’ve been a lot of changes,” Tim said as they hauled the chest up the last few steps to the entrance of the keep. “Camilla and Mistress Flaxal changed it all around. Most days, I don’t even recognize the place!” They put the heavy chest down for a rest beside the entry, out of the way of the sailors already hauling bales and crates of provisions from
Peggy’s Dream
into the keep. Mouse grew bored with their slow pace and fluttered off. Flicker watched him go and tugged at her chain, but Edan ignored her. She sat down on his shoulder to pout.

Tim motioned to pick up the chest again. “Come on. Mistress wanted you to have rooms on the second level. You’ve got a view of the harbor!”

“Okay.” Edan lifted and followed Tim up the sweeping stair, still staring open-mouthed at this new, wondrous place, wondering if he would see the fascinating Lady Camilla again soon.


The place of his birth hove into view and Chaser fluttered his gills in satisfaction. It had been a long swim and he was tired; keeping pace with Seamage Flaxal’s Heir’s new ship was hard work, and after two steady days of travel his tail quivered with exhaustion.

The two sentries signed their greetings and admitted him, but their faces were dire, their motions chopped and uneasy. He flared to a stop between them.

*Shellbreaker, Finwag, good to see you!* he signed politely.

*Welcome back, Chaser,* Shellbreaker, the senior of the two, answered. *I hope you bring good news.*

*I do,* he replied in his usual effervescent manner, his finlets rippling with his mood. *Seamage Flaxal’s Heir has returned to her home early.*

*That
is
good,” Shellbreaker agreed, but his signing was still tense. *She has much to tell us, I hope.*

*And many questions to answer,* Finwag signed with a swirl of his tail that showed his vexation.

*Something dire has happened.* Chaser back-paddled nervously. *Something to do with Seamage Flaxal’s Heir?*

*We are not the ones who should tell you, Chaser,* Shellbreaker signed, returning to his guard station and holding his trident firmly. *But you should know that, in your absence, The Voice was invoked.*

*The Voice?* Chaser’s fins went still with worry. *Why? What has happened?*

*We are not the ones to tell,* the brawny mer sentry repeated, his webbed hands clenching on his weapon, *but it was a near thing, I think, that The Voice did not send us to war.*

*War…* Chaser’s eyes widened in shock. *Excuse me, Shellbreaker, Finwag, I must see Tailwalker!* He signed a hasty farewell and darted into the grotto, his fatigue forgotten. He bolted through the twisting passages, drawing stares and exclamations from those he passed. In moments, he fluttered to a halt and announced his presence with a deep thrum.

The curtain of woven ironweed was pulled aside, and Quickfin exclaimed in surprise.

*Chaser! By Odea’s grace, you’re back early!* He gripped the tired scout’s wrists in camaraderie and drew him into the grotto.

Tailwalker entered, his dire countenance brightening at the sight of his friend. He rushed forward and greeted him. *Good to see you, my friend! Very good! Seamage Flaxal’s Heir has returned, I hope. All is well?*

*She has returned, and the trip was without mishap, though how well her mission was accomplished, I do not know. The ship stayed at the landwalker city of her birth only nine tides. I returned with them, but left her ship before it entered the break in the reef of the smoking island.*

*She will come tomorrow,* Quickfin signed. *It is her way. She always visits us when the sun rises the day after one of her trips.*

*I wish she would come sooner. There is much to discuss,* Tailwalker signed.

*What happened, Tailwalker? The sentries at the gate spoke of an invocation of The Voice, and said that war was narrowly averted.* Chaser whipped his tail in agitation, propelling himself in a tight circle.

*Calm yourself, my friend,* Tailwalker said, gripping his arm with a sign of ease. *A warship arrived at the seamage’s home on the tide of your departure.*

*A warship?*

*A small warship,* Quickfin signed with a smile. *Of course Eelback and his friends blamed Seamage Flaxal’s Heir for summoning it and wanted to drag it to the bottom of the trench, but calmer heads prevailed.*

*They blamed a
seamage
for bringing a warship? But that’s — *

*Foolish, yes,* Tailwalker signed, grinning his temper. *They will use any excuse to discredit her, no matter how stupid. Our only hope is that everyone else sees how desperate and ridiculous their claims have become.*

*When Seamage Flaxal’s Heir arrives, we will talk with Broadtail, and all will be explained,* Quickfin said, motioning his friends to join him in the adjacent grotto. *Come! Spineback found a nest of fire eels, and has brought us some.*

*Oh, not fire eels!* Chaser wagged his head in polite refusal. *They are too spicy for me, my friends. I swam for five tides without stopping! If I eat a single fire eel without resting first, I will float to the surface, belly up!*

Their fins fluttered with laughter as they swam together into the other room. In the end, Quickfin did convince Chaser to have just one fire eel.


“I can’t believe they brought a warship,” Cynthia said again with an exasperated sigh as she squirmed to get comfortable in her seat.

“Well, at least it was a small one.” Camilla reclined in her chair and finished her wine, reaching to refill her glass from the carafe. She promised herself she’d sip her second glass more slowly than the first, but it helped to calm her nerves and endure sitting on the balcony that used to be Bloodwind’s favorite spot. Unfortunately, it was also Cynthia’s favorite spot, and with the news of the disturbing imperial visit and theft, Cynthia had forgotten Camilla’s aversion to it. Camilla eyed the pillar behind Cynthia and shuddered, then drew a deep breath, sipped her wine and continued. “And they anchored outside the reef, so the mer can’t complain about damage.”

“But a
warship
, when they could have sent a courier. It suggests that they’re afraid of us.”

“He said that it was merely a precaution against cannibals. He wanted to include our own native residents in that category, and Tipos did nothing to discourage the misconception.” Camilla raised her hand when Cynthia opened her mouth to protest. “I know that only small pockets of cannibals still inhabit some of more isolated islands, but you know how slowly rumors die, and Bloodwind spent a lot of time and money to keep that one alive to safeguard his stronghold here. In Tsing, they probably consider a warship and a contingent of imperial soldiers as minimal protection for an expedition to this lawless wilderness.” She smiled without humor, the sobered. “But Count Norris had a personal — ”

“They sent a
count
?” Cynthia interrupted.

“Yes. Count Emil Norris of the Imperial Court of Tsing. Anyway, he apparently lost his entire family when the ship they were aboard disappeared here in the Shattered Isles.”

“At least, he said he did,” Dura countered before loudly sipping her whiskey. “He could just be a really good liar.”

“Did he say the name of the ship?” Cynthia asked, her curiosity whetted.

“The ship was the
Alabaster Rose
, and the captain’s name was Derwall. He even knew what cargo they were carrying. That’s why I think he was telling the truth. He knew too many details.”

“It could have been a play for your sympathy,” Ghelfan suggested, furrowing his brow. “A ploy to loosen your tongue.”

“Perhaps,” Camilla admitted reluctantly. “But it seemed to pain him to speak of it, too close to his heart to be a falsehood.”

“Well, I didn’t like him.” Dura knocked back a third of her tumbler and growled deep within her barrel chest. “He stuck his nose in every crack and crevice on the island! All his ridiculous questions; ‘What does this do?’ and ‘Why build it this way?’ Ah, he near drove me up a wall!”

“We are digressing, I fear,” Ghelfan interrupted gently, knowing well Dura’s penchant for ranting. “I must say that I am disturbed, not with the fact that they sent an emissary or a warship, but that they stole the plans to one of your ships. Especially
that
ship.”

“What do you mean?” Cynthia struggled to lean forward in her papasan chair, but gave up, grumbling in frustration.

“Why that ship? Why not the new schooner plans? A schooner is more practical, and the design has already been proven at sea. This prototype has no viable purpose other than to sate your rather strange nautical curiosity. What value would the plans have to the emperor?”

“They don’t know about the new schooner unless they spied you at sea on their way here,” Camilla said. “
Peggy’s Dream
wasn’t here, and neither Dura nor I mentioned it. Good thing, too, since the count mentioned concern in Tsing about your producing schooners at such a pace, and alluded to the worry that your fleet, if armed, would make a formidable navy.”

“Why in the Nine Hells would I want a navy?”

“I think,” Camilla suggested, her eyebrows raised, “the concern is that you’re setting up your own little empire down here, just like Bloodwind was doing. How did the count put it? ‘A powerful seamage with her own fleet of ships, and her own army of natives who hold her in complete adoration.’”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“I told him that, but I don’t think he believed me.” She smiled wryly, adding, “I didn’t mention the pact allying you with the mer. He didn’t seem to take
them
seriously, although he might if he knew of your alliance.”

“Of all the things to dismiss, he chose the
mer
? Foolish.” Cynthia shook her head, chuckling without much humor. “Well, the only armed schooner I know of is
Orin’s Pride
, and she’s somewhere off the Sand Coast, hunting pirates. Which you would
think
,” she stressed, “would be in the empire’s best interest. I just don’t understand how they set their priorities.”

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