by Rye Sobo
“It was the first shanty next to mine,” I said.
I slid my spoon into the lock on the cook’s cage. As the lock clicked open, the unknown man pleaded with me, “Take me with you. Don’t leave me here. I’ve been in this cage for three spans.”
No sooner was the cook’s cage open did I see Jabnit’s cage ajar.
“Did you—”
“Yes.”
“You have picks on you?”
“Always,” Jabnit said as he climbed out of his cage. “You do not?”
I held up the spoon, and he nodded. “What do we do with him?”
“We need crewmen,” Jabnit said.
“I’m an able sailor,” the man in the cage said.
I turned to the third cage and popped the lock open. The sailor crawled from his cage. “Thank you. Gods have mercy on you, Blanco.”
“There are two men at a fire in the center of a ring of shanties like this one,” I said. The three men were all hunched, their faces winced as they stretched and attempted to stand upright. “Stay to the shadows behind shanties.”
Jabnit and the others followed me behind the wooden prison which once held them. Once we were in the shadows Jabnit leaned forward and whispered.
“What is this darkness they talk about?” Jabnit asked.
“Who?”
“The guards,” Jabnit said. “They speak of being attacked by the darkness again. They are afraid Tolek has led them to their deaths.”
“You can speak Niv?” I asked.
“Eisiger,” he said. “I can. You do not?”
“No,” I said. “I can only speak Imperial.”
“How do you plan to be a sailor if you can only speak one language?” Jabnit asked.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“So many ports, so many languages along the Azurean Sea coast.” he said.
“Not that,” I said. “About the darkness? What did you say?”
“They speak of the darkness,” he said. “I do not understand. Does this have another meaning? Have you ever heard of it?”
Darkness? It sounds familiar. I’ve heard of it somewhere. Where I had heard their accent before? Dem spoke of the darkness. Didn’t he? Some tale the Ice Eaters tell each other.
“They fear their dead,” I said, “say the darkness can make them walk. It’s just an Ice Eater ghost story.”
“Nivaleans,” he corrected again. “This darkness, it terrifies them. It seems strange that they would hide in the ground if they were so afraid of it.”
“We can worry about their housing choices later,” I said. “Do you know where Reno is being held?”
“They forced him into the shack next to ours,” Majid said. “I was awake when they brought us here. They did not know.”
“You said you didn’t know where anyone was.” I said. “That shack?”
I pointed who the next Shanty in the line.
“I said I was not sure,” Majid said. “Seeing it now, I’m certain. It took four men to drag him in there.”
“Right then,” I said. “You three wait here I’ll be back in a moment.”
I stuck my head around the corner of the shanty. The two guards still argued with each other. I ran the short distance to the next shed and rolled behind, out of their view. Waiting just long enough to catch my breath, I snuck around the side of the wooden structure and opened the latch to Reno’s prison.
“Already back for more?” Reno said in his graveled voice.
They forced Reno onto his knees and chained him at the neck, wrist, waist, and feet to the walls of the shanty and two heavy stones on the floor.
“Yeah, I was hoping for a lot more,” I said with a chuckle.
His shoulders slumped.
“Ferrin is that you?” he said. “What are you doing here? How did you escape?”
I held up my trusty spoon. Reno just laughed.
“So I take it you have not learned the command word to unlock these chains?”
I looked at the locks binding Reno to the shanty wall. There was no way I could fit the spoon into the smaller keyholes of these locks.
“No,” I said. “I spent turns guessing.”
Reno chuckled, “Had I known we would have been in this situation, I would have taught you that first. Do you have a source for your yili here?”
“Yes, a large bonfire a short distance outside the door of this shack. It provides a great source.”
Reno closed his eyes, gathering the yili within him. When he was ready, he spoke two arcane words: iron and yield.
With all the strength he could muster, he pulled, and the chain which bound his wrists to the wall snapped free. He rubbed at his wrists, then with his free hands he grabbed the steel collar and ripped it from his neck. The thick iron chains yielded to his command. As he stood, the chains on his waist and his legs broke free.
“You must use the true name of the object you wish to control,” he said. “Otherwise, it will not know you speak to it.”
I nodded in understanding.
“Why didn’t you do that before?”
“I thought I was alone. I am too weak to take them on by myself. I thought I would gather my strength and fight when I was strong enough.”
“Please don’t tell me you ate the rancid fish stew.”
“It was good.”
Reno reached over my head to an iron bar, like the one in my prison and gave it an appraising flex. He nodded in approval.
“So, is it you and me?” he asked.
“Jabnit, Majid, and someone else are waiting behind a shack just outside.”
“How many guards?”
“Only two watching us,” I said. “And they are deep in conversation.”
“Well, I would hate to interrupt a good conversation,” Reno said with a smile.
Iron bar in hand, Reno kicked open the door to his prison. I saw the two guards jump as the door slammed against the wooden wall.
Reno had crossed half the distance to the bonfire before the guards recognized what was happening. He spoke another arcane word, this time for silence. It seemed nothing happened, but I could no longer hear the commotion on the other side of the bonfire. At that same time Jabnit and Majid ran behind the guards. With the strength that comes from years on the sea the two sailors snapped the necks of the pale-skinned guards.
I pointed to Reno and said, “We need to find the captain.”
Jabnit and Majid carried the bodies of the two guards into the shanty that had been their prison. The other sailor took a lookout position near the line of shanties.
I ran to the next shed in the line and pulled the door open. I recognized none of the five in cages in this room, but I knew they would be of help to us as we tried to mount an escape. Closing my eyes, I focused on drawing in the yili of the fire.
As soon as I had the energy, I set my sebi on the iron cages and used the commands Reno taught me: iron yield.
As I grabbed the cage door, the metal disintegrated in my hand. I pulled on each of the other doors, and, like the first, each yielded in my grasp. In moments the five captive sailors, three men and two women, crawled free of their cages and made for the door.
I pushed past them and ran to the next shed, still searching for the Captain.
In the next shack I found the sailmaker Kane Cloud along with the two carpenters from the Fritzbink. Using the same command I ripped free the cage doors and helped them to their feet.
“Do any of you know where the captain is being held?” I asked.
“No,” Kane said. “I woke up in this tiny cage and have been here for days.”
“Ferrin,” Reno had stuck his head into the door with a frantic look on his face. “I need you to come with me. I found the captain. He is…”
I rushed out of the wooden shack and followed Reno. A group of freed sailors stood near the bonfire.
“Set up a defensive perimeter! Don’t just stand around,” I commanded them.
Reno led me to a shack three
down from where he found me. The door was already ajar. As my eyes adjusted to the dark interior of the shanty, I could see Captain Azpa bloodied on the floor inside a small cage.
“Open the cage already,” I said to Reno.
Without objection Reno spoke the two words and ripped the cage in two. I climbed inside with the captain, pulling the energy from the fire into my well. I set my sebi on the captain and recited the arcane words to heal his most severe wounds.
I looked through the threads at the captain. I could see he had suffered a severe beating. Had we not found him when we did, I doubt he would have survived the night.
***
It took the better part of a turn before the captain regained consciousness. I had never used that much yili to heal a single person. Something tells me Tomas would not have approved.
Claudio coughed as I helped him to a seated position.
“Ferrin, you need to find Tomas,” the captain said, his voice a coarse whisper. “No matter your feelings for him, he is one of us.”
I looked to Reno.
“We have not seen him,” he said.
“Tolek and the others took him to their village when they found out he could heal their injured,” Claudio said.
“You want us to go into their village?” I asked. “It will be swarming with pirates. If we leave now, there’s a chance we could escape, all of us, even the ones we found. If we go on the search for Tomas, there’s no chance we get out of here alive.”
“That was not a request, Lieutenant Alsahar,” Claudio said. “He is a Drakkan, just like you. If the roles were reversed, he would be out looking for you.”
“Understood, Captain,” I said. “Reno, stay here and work on getting the rest of these sailors free from their cages. If I’m not back before the new watch arrives, flee without us.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
If my observations were correct, the watch changed three times every day. That would mean a new watch would arrive eight turns after the last one.
Counting the time from the last watch’s arrival to the time the camp fell still for the night, the time we took to free the captive sailors, and the full turn I needed to heal the captain’s wounds, it would be perhaps two turns before the next watch arrived at the prison camp.
That would be two turns to explore the village on the rise, locate the doctor, free him from whatever bonds he found himself in, and return to the prison camp to attempt our escape. If I was right, I have two turns. Arkanus help me, I hope I’m right. I tucked my spoon into my sash and trudged up the embankment to the village.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The narrow, haphazard paths between shanty houses conjured memories of being chased through Smugglers Scourge the night I fled Drakkas Port. Small fires burned in the larger intersections and bathed the main thoroughfares—if any of these footpaths could be thoroughfares—in light and cast deep shadows on the side alleys. It was to the darker paths I moved, hoping to conceal my presence for as long as possible.
In my mind it was a certainty they would spot me. I knew at any moment a pirate stumbling into a back alley to relieve himself would find a spoon-wielding gnome arcanist skulking behind his latrine and in a desperate attempt to defend myself I would touch off a fevered battle between a band of sailors turned slaves and an army of ruthless pirates.
What in the ten hells am I doing here? I’m no soldier. Gnomes don’t do things like this.
The village already proved to be larger than I first thought. I passed the tenth row of rough built structures and could see countless more. They constructed the buildings out of pieces of shipwrecks and other detritus which must have washed ashore on the island. The cave provided shelter from the elements, so many of the roofs were little more than sail canvas. So many opportunities to be heard.
A few blocks further, the path I followed into the heart of the village opened onto a small plaza. I halfway expected to find cobbles and a fountain in the center. Instead I discovered a pile of crates that bore the markings of the Southern Empire Trading Company—the cargo of the Delilah Fritzbink.
Several of the crates were pried open, their contents on display. One crate stamped “plows,” held a dozen bright blades of the kind Tolek had shown me in my cage. Another marked “bridles and bits,” contained five heavy crossbows and as many satchels of bolts. “Saddles” proved to be boiled leather cuirasses, enough to outfit an entire column. In a final open crate I discovered the “spade heads” were daggers. I grabbed two blades as long as my arm and tucked them into my sash along with my spoon.
If the crates are here, Tolek must be nearby, and perhaps Tomas.
The sound of footfalls reverberated off the cave walls. Someone was running through the paths of the shanty village.
I sunk low into an empty crate of “saddles” as the footsteps grew closer. A young man with golden hair and the same furs of the other guards burst onto the plaza from the dim thoroughfare. He doubled over and grabbed his knees breathing hard. He inhaled deep as though he was about to shout.
I closed my eyes and pulled yili from the nearest street fire a block away. It wasn’t strong, but it would have to do. I set my sebi on the pirate and said the arcane word Reno had used at the campfire. The golden-haired man’s face contorted as his shouts did not come. His eyes widened as I leapt from my hiding spot and charged at him.
Step. Step. Silence.
Dagger drawn, I closed the distance between us in two heartbeats. The Drakkan blade flashed with the dim golden light of a nearby fire as it tore through the furs and the leathers hidden underneath. It sunk deep into his chest. Pulsed in time with his pounding heart. Then splashed crimson across the cold gray stone as the dagger pulled free. The pirate collapsed into a silent pile at my feet.
I killed him.
There was no time for remorse. His death meant I was still alive. I grabbed the feet of the man and pulled him into a dark side path and covered the pool of blood with a canvas.
I surveyed the plaza. One shanty was larger than the surrounding structures. This must be Tolek’s place.
The door into the shanty was the top to a crate. As I pulled the door open, I could see the first room had a large table in the center with nautical charts of the northern Azurean Sea along with the shipping manifests of a dozen vessels.
The interior rooms had no doors, which allowed me to survey each from the connecting hallway. Most rooms were sleeping quarters, with thick piles of furs on the floor, men and women intertwined atop them.
I stepped into the last room at the end of the hallway. A man, naked from the waist up, stood in the doorway with his face twisted in confusion. Not any man: Tolek. The pale man inhaled deeply, surprised to find I wasn’t a dream.
My crimson blade already drawn, I leapt up and pulled it across his neck. Tolek grabbed his throat as he fell to his knees. He struggled to shout, but a gurgled whisper was all he could produce as the blood seeped from his opened neck and mouth. I placed both hands on the pommel of the dagger and drove the blade through his skull.
The body collapsed to the floor.
Behind the crumpled torturer I saw the horrified face of Tomas as he sat in an upholstered chair. One hand held a book, the other covered his mouth.
“This is how you live as your crew is being locked in cages and beaten to death?” My voice was a whisper but carried the fury of a squall.
“I was working to get you all released,” he said.
“Claudio would have been dead by morning, and you are up here gorging yourself on looted goods,” I struggled to keep my voice down and was at risk of alerting the entire encampment to my location. “Are you bound?”
“No,” he said.
“Good. We are leaving. Follow my directions and move swift and silent,” I said and turned toward the hallway. I jumped over the body of Tolek and led Tomas down the hall, through the chart room and out into the plaza. We snaked through the back streets toward the slave camp. The doctor kept pace as I hurried bac
k to our crew.
As I reached the embankment that led down to the crescent of wooden shacks, shouts of alarm rose from the village. Twenty-five sailors in the slave camp below looked at Tomas and I as we ran down toward them and out of the cave.
“We must go. Now!” Captain Azpa shouted.
All the former captives turned and ran with the order. The caves wound around several times before the bright light of the morning sun appeared at the entrance of the caves.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
We each ran as hard as we could. Even the portly Doctor Flores proved nimble when the situation required it. My eyes struggled to adjust to the light as we reached the mouth of the caves. I stumbled over a stone and tumbled, face first, into the gravel. A quick roll protected my face from the stones, and the massive hand of Reno reached down, grabbed hold of the torn collar of my shirt, and jerked me back to my feet in a fluid motion.
As my eyes focused, I glimpsed the silhouette of the abomination that the Fritzbink had become anchored in the harbor. Aside from the sorry state of the storm-wrecked ship, thick spars, little more than tree trunks with the branches lopped off, jutted from the ship both fore and aft.
The spars joined to the Pomsta, creating a crude outrigger, which used the sails the smaller vessel to bring our craft to the pirates’ harbor.
The lot of us, twenty-seven in all, exploded through the cave opening and raced toward the waterline.
“What did they do to my ship?” said one captive, a Drakkan woman with long hair pulled back into a tail, her mouth agape at the sight of the outrigger monstrosity.
“Worry later,” Captain Azpa said. “Get to the shore boats.”
A volley of bolts rained down on the beach. I looked over my shoulder, and I could see the Nivaleans press the nose of their weapons into the ground and pull back the string to prepare another round.
“Arbalists in the cave opening!” I shouted.
“No shit.”
“Ferrin, keep them distracted.”
“With what? A jaunty tune?”
“Sebi. Yili. Agoti,” Reno bellowed as he lifted a shore boat over his head. The oars dangled from the oarlocks like a petulant animal kicking to get free.
