by Jaxon Reed
Mandross sighed heavily and said, “You won’t lose it.”
“But what if I do?”
“Even if you do, which you won’t, I know how many books you deposited. Rest assured you’ll get them all back. Your items are safe with the Mystic Bank.”
To emphasize his statement, Mandross yawned, revealing yellow teeth.
Quent said, “Mm. What if someone steals this scrap of parchment? Can they show up and take my books?”
“No one can steal it from you. If they do, the parchment will return to you. But if you give it to someone willingly, they can bring it to any office and retrieve what you deposited.”
Stin patted Quent reassuringly on the shoulder and they turned to leave. When Quent looked back on the way out the door, his books were gone. So were Stin’s bags of gold.
Mandross stared back with sad eyes and a miserable scowl. He said, “Have fun. Don’t get shipwrecked or anything. It’d be a shame to gather all this wealth and then die.”
-+-
The next day Corsairs Cove turned into a beehive of activity. Melton made the rounds of food merchants, ordering supplies. Other officers gathered up rope, canvas, carpentry supplies, and dozens of other items needed to outfit the ship.
The following day, seadogs turned up at the dock by the dozens to sign on for the voyage. Word spread that Third Mate Steck would return. His legend had grown considerably, helped in no small part by his prowess at the gaming tables. Unbeknownst to Stin, tales of his lucky streak at Berti’s and elsewhere had spread to the dockside pubs.
His time onboard the Wavecrest grew embellished, too. The stories became more outlandish over time. Soon, every pirate happily confessed to losing all their gold to him. They said he could practically smell riches, and a dozen new tall tales were told about him before noon.
The seadogs began to call him things like “Seeker,” “Gold Finder,” and “Lord Fortune.” The last one stuck, and when he approached the docks for the first time since stepping off Wavecrest, a loud cheer greeted him from the men in line.
Plinny knocked over four or five people in his rush to meet Stin. He said, “Bwahahaha! Thar he is! Lord Fortune! I brought him aboard the Wavecrest meself, and he made us all rich. He’ll make us rich again, laddies!”
Another roar of approval went up from the crowd.
Stin waved politely and suffered several near-crippling blows as Plinny slapped him on the back in jubilation. But he gladly let the giant shove people out of the way to clear a path to the gangway for him.
Stepping onboard, he grinned at Melton who was sizing up the seadogs coming aboard. Melton, back at work, frowned at him, all onshore pleasantry gone. He said, “Same bunk as before, Steck.”
Melton turned to look down at a boy staring up at him expectantly, next in line. He said, “We don’t need another cabin boy. Go away.”
The boy’s shoulders sagged.
Stin recognized Cuppers. He said, “You cleaned up! Welcome aboard. It’s alright, Melton. Quent asked this young man to come along as his apprentice.”
“Well why didn’t he say so? I’ve got a hundred men to sort through. Speak up next time, boy!”
“Aye, sirrah! Ye’ve m’ word on that!”
Cuppers eagerly followed Stin into the ship. Stin said, “I’ll show you where Quent runs the healer quarters. You can stay there until he arrives. He’ll find an appropriate bunk for you.”
“That’s mighty kind o’ ye, Lord Fortune.”
“Don’t start with that.”
-+-
At long last the tugs pulled Wavecrest out into the harbor, oarsmen churning the water. Cessic nodded at Melton, who gave orders to unfurl the sails. She caught the wind and sped out to sea.
Stin made his way to the stern to catch one last glimpse of Corsairs Cove, only to find several others already there including Quent and Cuppers. Stin found a place at the rail next to Quent and breathed in a lungful of the warm, salty air. Seagulls followed in the ship’s wake and the dock grew ever more distant.
“Missing it yet?” Quent said.
“A little. Time seemed to fly by so fast, I never got a chance to do much, or see more of the town.”
Including the seedier parts, which seemed more interesting, Stin mused to himself, because they were roped off from the part he had stayed in.
“Mm. You were too busy collecting gold at the card tables, I imagine.”
Stin smiled, silently acknowledging the fact.
Quent said, “Ever wish you went back to Heart’s Desire?”
“I did.”
“What? You never told me that. When did this happen?”
“A couple days after we first visited.”
“Well? What did you get?”
Stin paused, reflecting on the wisdom of sharing with his friend. Finally he shrugged and said, “Ocularus taught me a spell that opens any lock.”
“That was your greatest heart’s desire?”
“At the time, yes. I didn’t know it would be, of course, until he told me about the spell. Then I had to have it. Kind of like you don’t know what book he’s going to show you.”
“Mm. I suppose knowing how to unlock things might be useful to a pirate. How much did it cost you?”
“All I had, of course. Which was two bags of gold. After I left I decided to hold off showing up every day. I’d never accumulate any money that way. It was hard. After a few days, when my wealth radically increased, I began to wonder what sort of knowledge or object that much gold would buy from Ocularus. I still do. Then after I made my first deposit in the Mystic Bank I began to wonder if Ocularus could take every coin I had in the bank, or if he’d only take what I brought into the shop.”
He smiled sheepishly and said, “Now I’m afraid to find out. So I hurried onboard before the temptation to go back overwhelmed me.”
“Mm. That’s probably for the best. I have given all my gold to Ocularus over the years, and I have nothing to show for it but old books.”
Stin snorted, “I suspect you have the greatest library of rare books in the world, Quent. And now they’re safely in the Mystic Bank rather than piled on the floor at Raynora’s.”
“And for that I owe you three gold, which I will repay upon our first capture.”
A yell from the bow went out and everybody turned toward the front.
Quent said, “You should go see the captain open our gate, Cuppers. It’s worth a look.”
Cuppers rushed off to watch Cessic cast the spell leading to open water. Quent smiled, watching him go.
“Mm. The boy’s got so much enthusiasm. Ah, to be young again.”
“I suppose to be young and on your first pirate voyage must be quite the adventure. When I was his age I was stealing apples from street carts just to stay alive.”
Quent quirked an eyebrow and said, “That so? You’ve come a long way. Ever get caught?”
“Oh yes. Spent my formative years in the dungeon under Coral Castle. The Royal Guard and I knew each other quite well.”
“Really. And here I thought you were but a simple merchant before joining our band of merry sailors.”
Stin laughed. He said, “I’ve been many things. A street urchin. A merchant. And now, I’m a pirate.”
Bright white light flashed in front of the ship as Cessic’s spell opened a rapidly growing gateway. The ship sailed through it, surrounded briefly by a globe of white light. Looking back from the stern, Stin could see the island through the light.
Then the gateway shrank and disappeared, taking the view of Corsairs Cove with it. The ship sailed on, surrounded by blue water in all directions.
Chapter 14
Dudge drew a deep breath. He opened his eyes to find Greystone bending over him, the wizard’s hand on his stomach.
Warmth flowed into his belly and he felt his insides stitching together, repairing the damage inflicted by Puffin’s blade. He looked down and realized his entire body glowed with a golden light from the wizard’s healing spel
l.
Greystone smiled at him as the glow faded and said, “There you go, Highness. Good as new. You’ll need to rest a few days to fully recover.”
“Nay time fer that, Wizard!”
Dudge knocked Greystone’s hand away and struggled to his feet. Before him stood Trant, the merchant twins, their boy and a dozen human sailors, all with looks of concern etched on their faces.
He turned, and behind him stood the hearty dwarves from the Farmlands. Fret looked upset but relieved at the same time.
Dudge said, “We gotta get t’ the inn! They’ll be after th’ books!”
Fret’s face changed to alarm. He turned and addressed the dwarves around him. “Grab some weapons, lads! Rak tried t’ kill our prince, an’ now he’s after th’ crooked books showin’ his crimes! Back t’ th’ Tin Hammer!”
The dwarves rushed off, heading up the street. Trant and Greystone exchanged glances.
“We should help,” Trant said. “He helped us when we needed it.”
Greystone nodded and said, “You go get the marines. I’ll follow along and tip the odds in their favor until you get there.”
Trant turned and looked at Bartimo, Bellasondra, and Kirt. Bartimo said, “We’ll go with the wizard.”
Trant said, “Very good.” He looked at the dozen sailors milling about and said, “Don’t trust the town guard, men! They’ve turned against the Crown. And don’t try to take one on by yourselves. They’re vicious, and they fight better than us. I’ve seen one dwarf kill five soldiers in the blink of an eye. Don’t let their size fool you.”
The sailors nodded, many of them snapping a salute, then they hurried after the wizard and the twins while Trant rushed back to the warship.
-+-
The Farmland dwarves rushed down the street weaponless. Only Dudge and Fret carried knives. But the resourceful drivers accumulated things along the way. One of them pried a loose brick from the street. Another snapped the spoke off a broken wagon wheel.
When they chanced upon an outdoor café serving humans, they rushed it and busted up the chairs, turning all the legs into makeshift clubs. Before the startled customers could react, the twins and the sailors came upon the scene. They explained things in a few quick shouts and more humans joined the crowd following the dwarves.
More townsfolk joined in, too. They grew in number as word quickly spread.
“Rak tried t’ kill th’ prince!”
“Treason! Th’ Port Guard ha’ committed treason ’gainst Crown an’ Council!”
By the time they reached the Tin Hammer, the crowd of angry dwarves had grown to three score with more joining by the minute.
A knot of two dozen guards stood in front of the inn’s door. Word of the mob had spread and they were ready, hefting wicked-looking battle hammers and swords. They spread out in front of the door and assumed a fighting stance as the crowd surged forward.
Then the crowd pulled up short, facing them. Puffin stepped out from the line, carrying the equivalent of a human shortsword. His eyes grew big when he spied Dudge, who broke away from the others to address him.
“Stand aside, Puffin!”
Puffin’s chest swelled as he overcame his shock at seeing Dudge alive. His spine stiffened and he said, “I ha’ orders from th’ Portreeve hisself t’ nay let anyone in ’til he’s done.”
Dudge looked back at Fret and the crowd, with a smile of amazement. He said, “D’ye believe this?”
He turned back to Puffin and raised his voice so everybody could hear. “I am Dudge, second son o’ King Nudge, Clan Ore. I be here by full authority o’ th’ Trade Council, and am authorized t’ take control o’ this city iffen I warrant it.”
He paused dramatically, glancing back at the crowd.
“An’ I warrant it! I outrank th’ Portreeve, who serves at th’ Council’s pleasure. In my role as Prince o’ th’ Realm, and agent o’ th’ Council, I be removin’ Rak as Portreeve!”
A stunned silence fell across the crowd. A few of the guards nervously shifted their weight from one foot to the other.
Puffin sneered and said, “I dinna recognize ye. I serve th’ Portreeve, an’ he says nay entry.”
To emphasize the point, he brought his sword up and bent his knees slightly, assuming a tighter stance.
Several people in the crowd gasped.
“Treason!”
“Defyin’ th’ Crown!”
Dudge and Puffin stared at one another in silence, eyes narrowing to slits as the tension increased. Several of the guards shifted their weapons. Dwarves in the crowd crouched, gripping sticks and stones tighter, holding their collective breath.
Greystone flew down from the air and landed on the street behind the crowd, his feet slapping the bricks and sending up a small cloud of dust. He seemed out of breath, and wiped sweat from his brow.
He looked over the mob and waved at Dudge. He said, “I got winded chasing after you boys! Forgot I could fly there for a moment. What’d I miss?”
He looked at the heavily armed guards in front of the inn, the sun glinting off their weapons. Then he looked at the mob facing them, carrying mostly bricks and sticks.
Greystone smiled happily, as if this truly made his day. He said to everyone in general and no one in particular, “After facing the metal men in my last battle, I learned a new spell! It goes like this.”
He twirled his hand and shot it out as if cracking a whip. Three dozen tiny red balls of light raced out toward the guards and found their swords and axes and hammers, landing lightly on each piece of steel.
The metal seemed to absorb the light. Instantly, as the balls of lights disappeared into the metal, the shine left the weapons. They quickly turned red with rust. Then they disintegrated into dust in the blink of an eye.
Puffin looked at his now bladeless hilt and pommel in confusion, his mouth dropping open in astonishment.
Dudge shouted, “Get ’em, lads!”
The mob rushed the guards.
-+-
Bellasondra, Bartimo and Kirt ran up as the guards went down fighting barehanded. Each one had three or four townies to fend off, and one by one they succumbed to repeated blows of bricks and chair legs and fists.
Puffin made a run for it, briefly breaking through the crowd and headed in the direction of the humans. Two of Fret’s wagon drivers raced after and jumped him, tackling him to the street where they beat his skull open with rocks in front of the twins.
Bellasondra covered Kirt’s eyes. He pulled her hand down, though, and watched the dwarf’s grisly end.
-+-
Dudge stabbed a couple guards in his way as Puffin ran past him. He ignored his would-be assassin and rushed to the inn’s door. He pulled it open and made his way inside while the fighting raged behind him.
Rak froze in shock as Dudge closed the door, muffling the sounds of the skirmish outside. Dudge turned and glanced down at the ledgers Rak carried.
The innkeeper stepped out, with a blood streaked tunic, a mixture of alarm and anger in his eyes. It seemed obvious Pywot had tried to stop Rak from taking the books, and failed. Pywot held his shoulder where he had been stabbed.
Dudge curled his upper lip at Rak and said, “Yer nay better than Lok hisself. Nay one in yer clan will e’er serve th’ Crown again, iffen I ha’ anything t’ say ’bout it.”
Rak carefully bent down and set the ledgers on the floor. He straightened and stretched his arms out wide. He said, “Yer Highness. There be plenty here in Osmo fer you, too. Ye’ve nay idea how much gold I’ve stashed away. It only seems fittin’ th’ Crown shares in th’ goods. Fer centuries Ore Stad ha’ taken bu’ a pittance o’ wha’ coul’ be made here. An’ wha’ better way than th’ second son o’ Nudge to gain ’is fortune?”
He walked toward Dudge, closing the gap quickly while his arms fell back to his sides.
“I dinna ken wha’ I was doin’ earlier, Highness. But I see now yer a dwarf of—”
He stopped suddenly and stared down at the blade st
icking into his side. Then he looked up at Dudge with widened eyes, his mouth forming an ‘O.’ The knife Rak had sneaked from his pocket clattered to the floor while Dudge pulled his own blade out of Rak’s ribs.
Rak fell to his knees, holding his side, desperately trying to keep the blood in.
Dudge said, “Yer lad Puffin pulled th’ same move on me. This time, I was ready.”
Rak’s lips trembled. He fell forward, face hitting the floor, still holding his side.
The door opened and Greystone walked in. He glanced down at Rak and raised his eyebrows at Dudge.
“Nay, Wizard. Dinna bring this one back. Help th’ innkeeper there.”
Dudge reached down and gathered up the ledgers, then he wearily made his way down toward the rooms on the dwarven side of the inn. He walked into one and collapsed on the bed, holding the ledgers tight against his chest. He fell fast asleep in an instant.
-+-
Kirt turned to see Trant rushing toward the inn, followed by a contingent of a hundred men dressed in the orange-red leather armor of Coral. They were led by a commander who followed close behind Trant. Everyone stopped and gazed uncertainly at all the little bloody bodies strewn about.
Fret broke off from the dwarves, approached Trant and greeted him. Trant said, “It looks like we’re too late to help, Master Fret. Although, it doesn’t look like you needed our help after all.”
“The inn still be important, Lord Trant. Prince Dudge could use a guard until ’e sorts everythin’ out. Iffen ye dinna mind loanin’ yer lads fer that.”
“Not at all.” Trant turned to the commander and said, “Have your men secure a perimeter. Nobody gets in without approval. Especially no city guards.”
The commander saluted and began barking orders to his men, who hurried to form a circle around the building.
One of the Farmland dwarves poked another and said, “Lookee! Fret be frien’s wi’ yuman princes, too!”
