The King's Buccaneer

by Raymond E. Feist

  Render snorted in derision. “I was sailing off the Keshian coast a month ago, Trenchard. I haven’t been in Crydee since I was a cabin boy. What’s worth stealing there?”

  Patrick said, “He denies the raid. And even if he had raided Crydee, why should this cause an issue between you?”

  “Because I had five years of plunder secreted away in a warehouse on the docks and I was on my way to move it out when he stole it!”

  “There was no plunder!” shouted Render.

  Eyes turned to regard him as Amos grinned an evil smile. “If he hadn’t raided Crydee, how would he know that?”

  Render said, “He’s lying about me and the raid, so he must be lying about the plunder.”

  Patrick glanced from captain to captain and they all nodded. Patrick said, “It is the law of Freeport. No captain may raise his hand against another—else crews would be warring. You can settle this once you’re clear of the harbor, but if either of you starts a fight, his ship will be confiscated and he’ll be thrown into the hole.”

  Nicholas had watched Render throughout the exchange. Softly he said, “He’s lying.”

  Marcus turned to say something, but before he could, Patrick of Duncastle said, “What did you say?”

  Nicholas said, “I said he was lying. I had friends in Crydee. He’s a murderous dog who slaughters women and children. If Captain Trenchard can’t take it, then I mean to have his life.”

  Patrick said, “Render claims he was off the Keshian coast last month. It must have been someone else.”

  Nicholas shook his head. “Two pirate cannibals with blue eyes? No, it was him.”

  Turning to Amos, Patrick said, “Captain Trenchard, you and your crew are on probation. You have the freedom of the town, but if you or any of your men start trouble, we’ll seize your ship and sell your crew to Queg as galley slaves. You control your man here. You may return to the council any time you wish, and if you’ve convinced four of the seven captains sitting that your story is true, you’ll be readmitted to the company of captains.”

  Amos said nothing, nodded once, then turned and left. The others fell in with him. As they walked down the steps, he whispered to Nicholas. “That was good.”

  Ghuda said, “Yes, now he’s certain to try to kill you.”

  Nicholas said, “That’s exactly what I expect.”

  Reaching the street, Amos said, “The captains think we’re going to be here another month, but I mean to be out of here the moment we locate the prisoners.” To Harry he said, “Back to the boat and pass the word that all but the station keeping watch have leave to come ashore. Tell them to behave themselves and to keep their wits about them. I want every man listening for rumors. Look for us at that inn with the red dolphin sign we passed on the way here.” Harry ran off. Amos said to Anthony, “Start your shopping.” Anthony left. With a nod of his head, Amos indicated that Ghuda should follow behind the magician at a discreet distance. When they were gone, the captain said, “Now let’s go find that inn and see if we can keep Nick alive.”

  —

  THE RED DOLPHIN Inn was modest and clean, and relatively quiet, given its usual clientele. Amos had taken a private room in the back and Nakor sat by the door, keeping it cracked open so he could see who approached. Amos said, “It’s obvious we can’t take the time to convince the captains one at a time. With Render as one, that means we have to change the minds of four out of six.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “I think another of them was involved, too.”

  “Why?” asked Marcus.

  Amos said, “Too many things still don’t fit. You saw the ships in the harbor?” Marcus nodded. “Someone’s had to bring a lot of mercenaries from somewhere, then ship them out in those raiding flotillas that hit the Far Coast. That’s a lot of planning and a lot of men. I think there were at least two deep-water ships, maybe three, and that means at least one other captain besides Render.”

  Nicholas said, “Then we’ve got to work fast.”

  Amos said, “We’ve got maybe a week before someone in the crew makes a mistake and we’re fighting our way out of here.”

  Nicholas sat beside him at the table, while Marcus stood behind Amos. Nicholas said, “If the captives are still here, we need to find them before they’re moved again.”

  Amos shook his head. “There’s almost no chance they’re still here.”

  “Why do you say that?” asked Marcus.

  Nakor turned and said, “Because Captain Render was lying to everyone. He says there was no raid. Yet he brought the captives here, Pug says. Too many lies.”

  Amos nodded. “Which means that whoever backed Render’s raid probably took the captives away quickly.” He took off his hat and wiped his brow. “I forgot how muggy these islands get.” He sighed. “Now that I see how big Freeport has become, I can understand how Render could have mounted his raid and hid it from the other captains.”

  Motioning with his hands, Amos continued, “There are a dozen islands within a half day’s sail of here that could be used as a base. He could sail out of the harbor at sundown, claiming he was bound to raid the coast of Kesh. Then he sails to where his other raiders are waiting, picks them up, loads the pinnaces into the holds of the two ships, sails to just beyond the horizon from Crydee, unloads the pinnaces, and begins his assault on the Far Coast.”

  “Why would they strike from these waters, Amos?” asked Marcus. “If they didn’t want the other pirates to know about it, why even start here?”

  Amos said, “There are bound to be strangers moving through Freeport all the time. And where better to make the bargain for this sort of crime? But the question is, where can he hide several hundred captives?”

  Nakor’s face clouded over as he remembered. “Pug said something about a big building. A big, dark building.”

  Amos said, “I think we need to start spreading out.” Looking at Marcus, he said, “How good a sailor are you?”

  Marcus said, “I can handle a small boat well enough not to drown myself.”

  “Good. Find one tomorrow and buy it. If anyone asks you what you’re doing, tell them you’re going to explore the nearby islands because Trenchard is thinking of building a house. Some of the captains have their own little kingdoms around here. Take Harry with you, and see he doesn’t drown himself.

  “Render may have too much to lose to start trouble because Nicholas and I have threatened him, and we’ve been enjoined from going after him.” Grinning, Amos patted Nicholas’s hand. “You, my lucky boy, have the unenviable task of irritating Render into doing something stupid. We’ll set a watch on him, and you’re going to have to be after him constantly. I want you to be so close to him he’ll think you’re his shadow.”

  Nicholas nodded.

  Amos uncorked a large jug of ale and said, “Now, who’s for a drink?”

  10

  DISCOVERIES

  A gull squawked.

  Marcus, Calis, and Harry walked to the harbor as the sun rose above the horizon. For the half-elven youth, who looked no older than Harry despite being thirty years old, Freeport was an alien bounty of sights and sounds. He had remained quiet, content to let his companions do whatever talking was necessary, but he watched and listened and seemed fascinated by the variety of humanity living on the island. Harry had confided to Nicholas the night before that it was entirely possible to forget the elfling even existed until he chose to move or speak, so adept he was at being silent and still.

  Harry was about to ask him a question when a slight form hurried from behind an overturned boat and fell into step beside them. Calis had his knife out and ready before the others could turn. Harry almost jumped from fright at the sudden appearance. “Gods! What do you want?”

  A voice whispered, “More to the point: what is it you three want?”

  The slight figure was clad in a shapeless tunic and trousers; dirty toes protruded from under the too-long pants. The thin arms that extended from ragged sleeves were as dirty as the feet, and the fac
e was only marginally cleaner. A narrow chin and small mouth were dominated by high cheekbones and enormous blue eyes. Ragged longish red-brown hair flew about in all directions.

  “Go away, boy,” said Marcus impatiently.

  “Boy!” said the beggar. With a vicious kick to Marcus’s shin, the girl danced back. “For that you’ll pay double for your information.”

  Marcus winced at the blow and Harry stood in mute astonishment. Calis calmly said, “Then, go away, girl.”

  They resumed their walk, but the girl came hurrying to walk backward beside Marcus. “I know lots of things. Ask anyone in Freeport and they’ll tell you, ‘Want to know something? Ask Brisa!’ ”

  Harry said, “And you’re Brisa?”

  “Of course.”

  Marcus and Calis said nothing, but Harry said, “Our captain is looking for an island to build a house on.”

  Brisa stopped walking backward and stood directly in Marcus’s path. “Right,” she said derisively.

  Marcus was forced to stop as the others passed to her right. He looked down at her and said, “Yes, that’s right.”

  She grinned, and Marcus was startled to notice she had dimples. Showing his irritation, he repeated, “Yes, that’s right,” and tried to step around her.

  She moved with him, cutting him off.

  “I have no time for these silly games,” he said, and tried to move the other way.

  She stepped back a half-step and caught her heel on a coil of rope. Falling backward, she landed hard on her bottom. Marcus smiled and Harry laughed, while Calis remained impassive. Brisa made a disgusted noise as Marcus walked past her, and shouted, “Fine! When you’re tired of sailing in circles, come see me!”

  Marcus turned back toward her and, in an atypical display of amusement, saluted her. Even Calis smiled, while Harry continued to laugh.

  —

  LATE THAT NIGHT, Harry, Calis, and Marcus climbed up a ladder where their sailboat was tied and found Brisa sitting on a bale of cloth, eating an apple. “Tired?” she asked.

  They glanced at one another and moved past her, but she jumped down and was at their side, walking with her hands behind her back. Like a child at play, she sang, “I know what you’re looking for.”

  Marcus said, “We told you—”

  “No you’re not,” she said in a singsong voice.

  “Not what?”

  “Looking for an island for your captain.” She took a last bite from her apple and threw the core over her shoulder into the sea. Gulls squawked and dove for it.

  “Then what are we looking for?” asked Harry, impatient from a day spent sailing through a half-dozen deserted islands.

  Brisa crossed her arms and said, “What’s it worth to you to find what you’re looking for?”

  Marcus shook his head. “We have no time for clever games, girl.”

  The three began to walk faster. Brisa said, “I know where the Durbin slavers went.”

  They stopped. They exchanged glances and turned around. Calis walked back to where the girl waited and firmly grabbed her arm. Marcus said, “What do you know?”

  “Ow!” she cried, trying to twist away, but Calis held fast. “Let me go or I’m not saying anything!” she demanded.

  Marcus put his hand upon Calis’s arm. “Let her go.”

  Calis did so, and the girl stepped away. Rubbing her sore arm, she pouted. “Didn’t your mother tell you there are better ways to get a girl’s attention?” Turning an angry eye upon Marcus, she said, “You’re not half-bad-looking for a scruffy brigand, though you’d look better without the beard, I think. I was going to be nice, but now my price has gone up.”

  Harry said, “Look, what do you know and what do you want?”

  “I know that a month ago some strange men came through town; a lot of them. Many more gathered in the nearby islands, doing their best to avoid being seen by those who live here in Freeport. They spoke Keshian, mostly, but with a strange accent, one I’ve not heard before. Others came to town and bought supplies. Not all at once, but enough that I got curious. Nothing happens around here out of the ordinary that I don’t notice. So I decided to snoop around.” She smiled. “I’m good at finding things out.”

  Harry couldn’t help smiling. “I expect you are.”

  “Now, do we have a deal?” she demanded.

  “What’s your price?” asked Marcus.

  “Fifty golden royals.”

  Marcus said, “I don’t carry that kind of gold around.”

  Harry said, “What about this?”

  He held out a ring, a faceted ruby set in a gold band.

  “Where did you get that?” asked Marcus.

  Harry shook his head slightly, “I forget.” To the girl he said, “It’s worth twice what you ask.”

  The girl said, “Very well. I followed one group, marked their course, and sailed a boat out after sunset. I found where they mustered. There was the biggest ship I’d ever seen, anchored off the point. It was black and looked like a Quegan galley, with high fore- and aftercastles, large mainsails, and a hell of a lot of beam. It rode high, so I figure it was empty, but men were moving back and forth to that island constantly. They couldn’t sail the big ship in, so they had to spend days moving men and supplies by small boat. From what they had on the beach, it looked like they were heading out for a long trip, maybe down to the far end of Kesh. They also had patrols out, and I had to get out of there.

  “A few weeks later there were some boats moving through the islands, but staying away from Freeport.” With a bright grin, she said, “I got curious and went back to the island, and saw that most of the men were being ferried to the big ship. But a dozen smaller boats deposited a lot of captives on the island. There was six Durbin slavers in charge.”

  “How do you know that’s what we’re interested in?” asked Harry, hanging on to the ring.

  “You’re on a Kingdom ship and all the captives spoke the King’s Tongue. Some famous captain shows up after thirty years—it’s all too coincidental for me. Your captain’s the real thing, but the rest of you are too damn clean and polite; you’re Kingdom Navy. You’ve come looking for those captives, right?”

  Harry flipped the ring in the air and Brisa caught it. “Where did they take the captives?” Harry asked.

  “Two islands to the west, on the lee side,” she said. She was off and running, and called over her shoulder, “And when you get back, I can tell you more.”

  Harry shouted, “How will we find you?”

  “Just ask for Brisa anywhere!” came the answer as the girl vanished between two buildings.

  —

  THAT NIGHT, SEVERAL of the Raptor’s crew had spotted the tattooed captain in the town, and had passed word. Nicholas and Ghuda put in an unexpected appearance at an inn Render favored.

  They took seats near enough to hear normal conversation, and Render and his men instantly fell silent. After a moment, Nicholas said, “It’s just a matter of time, isn’t it?” He spoke loudly enough to be heard by everyone in the room.

  Ghuda said, “Sooner or later.” He had no idea what Nicholas was talking about, but he played along.

  “One of these days a ship’s going to come in from the Far Coast, carrying word of the raids; no commerce and no plunder for years to come. Then every merchant in the city will be mobbing Governor’s House to have the culprit’s head on a poll.” Glancing at Render, who glared back, Nicholas clearly said, “And I’ll be pleased to hand it to them.”

  Render whispered furiously to two of the men who sat there, then rose and departed. The two men kept their eyes on Nicholas and Ghuda as if daring them to follow their captain.

  Nicholas sat back and waited.

  —

  ANTHONY, NAKOR, AND Amos left at first light the next day with Marcus to investigate the island. In three hours they reached it. The island was similar to dozens in the area, formed ages ago in volcanic upheaval. Eroded by wind and water, covered in brush and tough grasses carried over th
e water by seabirds, it was an inhospitable place of a high cliff with no beaches on the lee side. After an hour spent circling the island, they came to a shallow inlet on the windward side. A huge building squatted near the high-water line on the beach, sheltered by high rocks that hid it from the view of anyone approaching from any direction except directly into the inlet. There was no sign of anyone on the island.

  They beached their sailboat and looked around. Amos said, “A lot of boats have been in and out of there recently.” He pointed to marks on the sand above the high-tide line. A wide path of footprints led to the building. “Good wind or rain and we’d not see those. They’ve been made within the last few days.”

  They walked up to the crudely fashioned building. They pushed open large doors and went inside. The stench of recent human waste and something even more foul filled the place. A cloud of flies rose high into the air, and on the ground they saw what they had been feasting upon.

  Amos swore. He quickly counted and said, “There are more than a dozen of them.” Littered across the floor were corpses.

  Choking back his bile, Marcus forced himself to examine the closest body. A boy lay close enough to the door so that the light made it easy to examine him. Marcus said, “He died in pain.”

  Amos shook his head. “I’ve seen that look before.”

  Nakor looked at another. “They’ve been dead maybe three, four days. Skin is all puffy and the flies have blown maggots.”

  Amos glanced around the room and said, “It’s no picnic in here, Marcus. If you want to wait outside…”

  Marcus knew Amos was trying to spare him the possibility that his sister or Abigail might be among the dead. “No,” he said shortly.

  They picked their way through the grisly scene, and at the center of the room, Amos found something that made him swear. “Banath’s boils!” he said, invoking the god of thieves and pirates.

  Six men in the guild dress of Durbin slavers lay on the floor, their bodies riddled with arrows. Amos forced himself to kneel and examine one of the men. He removed the black mask and saw a guild tattoo upon the corpse’s face. “These are true Durbin slavers,” he whispered in awe. “Who would face the wrath of their guild?”