Great Chief
Page 4
“Maybe they’re anchored for some fishing?” Yanko checked it with his senses again, this time examining the craft rather than the auras of those aboard. “Or repairing its steam engine,” he said, his heart sinking as he detected a smokestack.
“It’s Turgonian?” Tynlee asked.
“It has a smokestack. But it also has a mast and sails.” Yanko frowned, not having seen that before.
“That was typical during the war era when Turgonia was first shifting from sail to steam. They had numerous warships with both. They could conserve fuel when the wind was good and sail with great speed when they could combine the two elements. Once their engine and propulsion technology improved, they shifted away from sail. It’s been about ten years since the last of their mixed medium warships were out and about on the ocean.”
“If this is an old ship, maybe it’s not a military vessel then.” That gave Yanko some hope. They might have stumbled upon simple civilian explorers. “Also, if there are only twenty-five people, that’s a lot fewer than on the warship where I spent a week in the brig.”
“It would be a small crew for a Turgonian military ship.” Tynlee tapped her cheek and looked toward the first mate, who was manning the wheel today. “Though it’s still more than twice the people that we have.” Was she thinking of ordering him to sail around and try to avoid the ship’s notice?
“Yes, but we have Dak.” Yanko smiled.
He wanted to get close. He needed to know what they were dealing with.
He hadn’t figured out how to claim the continent for Nuria with only this small yacht, including his friends and Tynlee and her two bodyguards, but he hoped to find inspiration along the way.
“A veritable army,” Tynlee said. “And you’ve a few talents as well.”
“As do you. It may be us who outnumbers them.”
Tynlee smirked.
Kei squawked.
“And let us not forget about our avian ally,” Yanko added.
The wind had shifted, and Kei stuck his beak under his wing again.
“Our weak-nostrilled avian ally,” Yanko said.
“Ship ahead!” the first mate called.
Tynlee waved an acknowledgment. “Take us past them, please.”
The first mate hesitated and glanced toward the cabinet that held lifejackets and the yacht’s old bronze cannon. “Yes, Consul.”
“If they bear weapons, the mighty mage, Yanko, and his avian ally, will protect the ship,” Tynlee informed him.
“Honored Consul,” Yanko protested, more startled at being referred to as a mage than at the claim that he could protect the ship. He would do his best to do that. “I’m not a mage. I didn’t pass the Stargrind entrance exams.”
He was positive she already knew that since she’d spent dedicated time “mind-snooping,” as she’d called it, on him in the consulate’s interrogation room.
“Stargrind is no more,” Tynlee said. “Deeds will be how people gain designations until the Great Land settles and order is reestablished.”
“I’m not comfortable claiming that status when our people consider it criminal to—”
“Jorrats, jorrats,” Kei announced, interrupting him. “Biscuits?” He sprang into the air and flew toward the other ship.
As Tynlee had said, it wasn’t moving, and a favorable wind filled the yacht’s sails, so they were coming up on it quickly.
“Is your bird leaving us to look for food over there?” Tynlee asked.
“He’s come to prefer Turgonian biscuits to our fare.”
Yanko frowned, hoping the crew over there wouldn’t find the appearance of the parrot suspicious. Though he didn’t see how they wouldn’t. Yanko hadn’t seen any birds here yet. It was likely too far from other land for any to have learned about it. Too bad. Some vultures from back home would have helped with the carcasses of fish and other sea animals that had been stranded when the land rose.
“At least their crew isn’t holding rifles,” Tynlee said.
No, Yanko could see numerous people on deck now. They faced the yacht, waving their arms and beckoning for help. They appeared to be a mixed crew, Turgonians, Nurians, and a few pale-skinned Kyattese or Kendorians. Merchants? Their ship was large enough to have a substantial hold. A lot of closed cannon ports dotted the side, but that could be because they sailed through pirate-infested waters often.
A few rocks thrust up from the shallows, and their craft looked to have run aground.
“Nobody will have charted these waters yet,” Tynlee said. “Or re-charted them, rather. That will be problematic for visiting ships. We’ll have to be careful.”
The captain came out on deck, wrinkling his nose and glancing toward land as he walked up to join the first mate. They conferred briefly.
“Do you wish to stop to help them, Consul?” the captain asked.
“Yes, let’s see if any of them are injured.” Tynlee turned back to Yanko. “Have you any experience with repairing ships?”
“Not ships, no. I helped out around the farm as a boy.” Yanko looked down at his hands. He had callouses on his right palm from his scimitar sparring sessions with Dak, but it had been a couple of months since he’d done hard labor in his uncle’s mine. “I repaired a chicken coop last fall. Do you think those skills will translate?”
“I meant with your magic.”
“Oh.” Yanko lowered his hands. Callouses wouldn’t matter for that. “It looks like their hull is made from wood. Metal would have been easier to melt and manipulate.”
“Yes, it’s a very early steamer. Either that or someone recently retrofitted a sailing ship with Turgonian steam equipment.”
“I’ll check the hull.” Yanko closed his eyes as they sailed closer, examining the craft thoroughly for the first time.
They were near enough now to hear the crew calling for help as they waved their hands. Had they been stuck there for some time? The continent offered no trees, nor any other foliage, so it wasn’t as if they could have sent a dinghy ashore to gather wood for repairs.
“I don’t see any holes in the hull,” Yanko said slowly, taking a second look. “And they’re actually anchored there. It doesn’t look like they’re stuck.”
Tynlee sucked in a quick breath. “It’s a ruse.” Instead of examining the ship, she was gazing straight at one of the crew, one of the men waving for help. “Avert, Captain,” she called over her shoulder. “They want—”
A figure in an orange Nurian robe stepped into sight. The woman lifted a hand and hurled a fireball.
Yanko jumped in surprise but hurried to create a protective barrier around the yacht. He sensed Dak, Jhali, and Lakeo charging onto the deck with weapons but kept his focus on defense.
The fireball sizzled across the waves and would have slammed square into the yacht. Instead, it struck Yanko’s invisible barrier, bounced off, and dissipated.
The mage looked to be readying a second fireball, but she paused, squinting at him. Yanko wasn’t wearing his warrior-mage robe, so nothing about him announced his power, unless she’d sensed Sun Dragon’s scimitar hanging at his waist. Not that carrying a Made weapon made one a mage.
The crew stopped waving for help and snatched up weapons. Below decks, other crew members opened the cannon ports so they could fire.
“Yanko?” Dak came up next to him and Tynlee. “Is it safe to return fire?”
Yanko shook his head. “I’ve got a barrier up. You won’t be able to fire through it. Don’t worry. Their attacks won’t get through.”
Dak eyed the rifles, the cannons, and the orange-robed mage. She was still glaring at Yanko, but she went back to preparing a second attack.
“None of them?” Dak asked.
“None,” Yanko said with determination, but then felt compelled to add, “Unless they have another mage who’s more powerful than I am.”
He’d deflected the fireball easily enough that he didn’t think the woman would be that difficult to fight off. It was possible she had merely used a f
raction of her power, not believing that more would be necessary, but the fireball itself had been kludgy compared to the ones Jaikon Sun Dragon had once hurled at him.
Dak lowered his rifle.
The woman hurled her second fireball straight at Yanko—and those standing next to him. Again, it bounced off his barrier. Dak didn’t duck or jump back. His faith in Yanko’s ability surprised Yanko, but it also warmed his heart. He reinforced his barrier, ensuring there was no way that faith would be misplaced.
The woman tried a different attack, wind. She attempted to hurl a pinpoint gale at the yacht’s mast to break it, but Yanko’s barrier encased the entire ship, even the underwater portion. She wouldn’t get through.
I recognize you, the mage spoke telepathically to him in Nurian. From the entrance exam in Red Sky.
Yanko almost lost his concentration on the barrier. Who was this? Someone who’d been there? An observer or…?
I was one of the proctors, though I suppose you’ve forgotten. We can’t all be as prominent and important as the White Foxes. Ah, but those were the White Foxes of old. You are nothing now, as you proved when you couldn’t even gain entrance to Stargrind.
Cannons boomed, their heavy iron balls assailing Yanko’s barrier. He sensed that the woman wanted to distract him. It wouldn’t happen. He refreshed his focus, and the cannonballs bounced off, just as her fireballs had.
You’re a pirate now? He hardly thought it was fair of her to denigrate his family, which had lost its honor because of his mother’s pirate ways, if she was now a pirate.
A buccaneer. We have a commission from the Kendorian government. We are privateers, and they approve of us keeping the seas clean of Turgonian and Nurian ships.
Great, another country that was aware of the new continent.
You’re not Kendorian, Yanko pointed out.
I am now. They understand the value of a mage. They are not seeking to diminish the moksu and give the nation to mundane slugs. I barely escaped imprisonment by that upstart faction of deluded thugs.
Yanko thought about mentioning that all those who had been imprisoned on Seventh Skull had been freed and how Zirabo, who had magical power, was gathering forces now to march on the capital. Whoever he backed would likely be friendly to the needs of mages. But did it matter? This mage had abandoned her nation at the first sign of trouble. She wasn’t worth trying to recruit, nor could he trust a pirate.
Yanko glowered at her. Do not bother with your attacks. You will not defeat us.
We’ll see, boy. Perhaps I will send over a candle for you to light, and that will utterly flummox you. She sneered and hurried below.
Yanko winced, irritated anew with his failure back on that beach, and also irritated that a witness was here mocking him over it.
He reminded himself that his only duty was to defend the yacht, not worry about what anyone said. He had the sense from her surface thoughts that the mage had some other weapon she would bring to bear, but he didn’t risk trying to probe her mind, since dividing his attention might cause his barrier to falter. Probably not, but he didn’t want to take the chance. The cannons boomed, and the crew fired rifles over the railings.
“I’m taking us around them,” the captain called. “Unless you want to, uh—” He looked at Dak and Yanko, perhaps remembering the pirate airship and how they’d brought it down and, with the help of the agents Amaranthe and Sicarius, killed or captured the crew.
That had been different. Those pirates had been killing people on a Nurian merchant vessel. Yanko was less inclined to destroy this ship, since the so-called privateers hadn’t succeeded in hurting anyone yet. Also, if he marooned them here, they might die of starvation or thirst even if they made it to land. He had no idea if there was fresh water anywhere to be found.
“This does not sit well with me.” Dak’s fist tightened around his rifle. “To leave pirates alone simply because we have the ability to keep them from harming our ship.”
“They say they’re Kendorian privateers,” Yanko said.
“So pirates to everyone else in the world.” Dak sneered. “What happens to the next ship that comes this way? It could be Turgonian.” He looked at Yanko. “Or Nurian.”
“They have killed innocent people in the past.” Tynlee glanced at Yanko but only briefly. She was focused on one of the crew members. The captain? She spoke with certainty, so she was likely reading his mind.
“You said it was a ruse,” Yanko said, surprised that Dak and Tynlee were looking at him instead of deciding on their own and then telling him what they wanted him to do. “What are they hoping to gain? Why attack a diplomatic ship?”
“Right now,” Tynlee said, “they want our valuables and this ship, but beyond that, they also want to claim the continent for themselves. They’re part of a larger force. The By-mar-sen Privateers out of Kendor. Their government has also learned about this place. Kendor hasn’t mustered an official naval force to come out yet, but these people… hm, I’m not sure if this is an authorized mission from their government or if they’re hoping to claim the land for themselves. As a pirate sanctuary?”
Yanko gripped the railing, realizing he should have been searching the thoughts of others’ minds and not focusing on the woman goading him.
“It’s a substantial landmass,” Dak said. “I wouldn’t think a bunch of pirates could hold it.”
“Maybe they just want a portion,” Tynlee said, “though I get the sense that it’s a large fleet and—”
The mage appeared on deck again. She carried a brown box with a cone on one end. Yanko sensed immediately that it was Made but also that it didn’t contain a great deal of energy. He had no idea what it did, but it seemed paltry in comparison to other artifacts he’d encountered. Could it truly threaten them?
“She’s getting ready to try another attack,” Tynlee said.
“Take us close,” Dak said. “If Yanko is willing to board and fight them, I’ll watch his back.” His eye narrowed. “Or I’ll go aboard alone if he won’t. That they’re pirates is enough for me to want to destroy that ship and end their career.”
“You both want to kill them?” Yanko looked at Tynlee and Dak.
Dak nodded firmly.
Tynlee hesitated, even though their cannonballs continued to strike Yanko’s barrier as they discussed it.
“I have seen the crimes they’ve committed in their heads,” she finally said. “It is not my right to act as judge and executioner, but… I would like to see their ship destroyed at the least, so they can’t trick others as they intended to do with us.” She glanced at Dak. “Despite what my burly Turgonian says, I don’t think we can do that without you, Yanko, so the decision is yours.”
My burly Turgonian? Was that a term of endearment for them?
Dak lifted his chin. “I could do it if you get me close enough.” He delved into a pocket and pulled out a cylindrical can.
It took Yanko a moment to realize it was one of the explosives he and the professor had made for the assault on the island.
“You carry explosives in your pocket?” Yanko asked.
“In Turgonia, we call them grenades.”
“You carry grenades in your pocket?”
Tynlee patted his arm. “It’s what I like about him.”
“I thought you liked his big Turgonian muscles,” Yanko said.
Dak’s eyebrows rose.
Tynlee’s cheeks grew pink. “I believe I said that fans of novels liked Turgonian warrior heroes because of their musculature.”
“Ah.” Yanko focused on the mage again, reminding himself that, even if nothing had gotten through yet, they were in the middle of a battle.
She knelt before that artifact, a hand on top of it. She was looking toward the yacht. Expectantly? Had she already activated the device? What did it do?
“I can destroy the ship from here,” Yanko said quietly.
Though he had reservations about marooning people where they would die if they weren’t rescued, he coul
dn’t deny that his friends were right, that it would be unwise to leave the pirates here to attack others. If he succeeded in claiming this land for Nuria, he didn’t want pirates preying on innocent ships visiting it.
“There’s no need to board,” Yanko added. “Or to waste Dak’s pocket armory.”
“My pocket is disappointed,” Dak said.
“Maybe I can raise its spirits later,” Tynlee said.
“If that’s an innuendo,” Yanko said, “I’m mortified.”
“Really, Yanko,” Tynlee said. “We’re not that crude. We’re mature adults.”
Based on the smirks they shared, Yanko didn’t believe her.
He focused on the enemy ship, debating what attack he could send their way while maintaining his barrier. The yacht had skirted the craft and was sailing away, but the pirates hadn’t given up. At the mage’s urging and arm waving, they continued to fire the cannons. Maybe she was letting her crewmates know that Yanko had failed his entrance exam and couldn’t have much stamina.
Something nudged his barrier from below. He wouldn’t have bothered checking to see what it was, except that if it was a rock and their hull was in danger of damage, he needed to let the captain know.
It was a large squid. One of several. Sharks also swam in the water, prodding his invisible barrier with their noses. No, more than that. They were ramming it, determined to get through. Dozens of them. Smaller fish also flung themselves at it. Yanko spotted a few breaking the surface to the port side. They arced through the air and struck the barrier and bounced off.
He stared at the mage. Was the device responsible? Someone wearing an orange mage robe wouldn’t likely be an expert at animal interactions. She would have specialized in fire.
She stared back at him, her expression expectant. Did she think the sea creatures would have more luck breaking through his barrier than cannonballs and fire?
A yelp of surprise came from behind them. Lakeo.
She and Jhali wheeled toward the starboard side, their weapons raised, as a shadow blotted out the sun. A massive red octopus—a kraken?—had flung itself out of the water. It landed on Yanko’s invisible barrier, all eight arms splayed out, suckers probing and finding purchase against his wall of air.