Black Guild

by J. P. Ashman

  ‘Don’t talk to me, bastard,’ Bosun shouted back. ‘But aye, if she turns we ram and board.’

  ‘Board Sessio?’ Charlzberg emerged from his awning, dressed in his best clothes, sleeve pinned up to cover his half missing hand and shredded limb.

  ‘Yes, Admiral,’ Bosun said without turning. ‘We send the hobyahs aboard. Pull! And let them rip into the crew whilst I slice that fucker of a captain up.’

  ‘Mannino?’ Charlzberg frowned, eyes now on the splintered back of the ship they closed on.

  ‘Guns loaded,’ a goblin shouted from the prow.

  ‘Then fire ’em, you bell end!’ Bosun laughed with glee. ‘I love these guns, Admiral.’

  White smoke followed the flash and bang of the small deck guns, but this time the shot didn’t make its target. This time, it diverted violently to either side, splashing into the waves like iron rain.

  ‘Bloody mages.’ Bosun spat on the deck.

  Charlzberg looked from Sessio to the spit on his ship and up to Bosun.

  ‘Attend me, Bosun.’

  Bosun waved Charlzberg away without turning.

  ‘Get those guns loaded. When my ship comes about from behind, we’ll take Mannino together. You’ll have your revenge, Charlzberg. Pull!’

  Charlzberg began to shake. He ground his remaining yellow teeth and pressed his claw-less fingers into the palm of his remaining hand. Before Bosun could react, Charlzberg shrieked, turned and ran to the galley’s stern. Tull tensed and tried to pull himself into a ball as best he could whilst hanging upside down, unsure as to his admiral’s intentions. He flinched when the tri-cornered hat-wearing goblin next to him screamed down at the boat towed behind.

  ‘Fire!’ Charlzberg shouted to those below, who were watching the menacing bulk of the Black Guild’s ship pass across their stern, fore-, aft- and unusual side-castles rising high above them. Jumping at the sudden shrieked order, the goblins rushed to.

  Fire met powder as Bosun turned, mouth gaping. He ducked instinctively. The large bronze cannon exploded into life for the very first time. The heavy ball of stone it spat forth crossed the short distance between galley and modified cog faster than the Black Guild assassin that was Bosun could scream, ‘No!’

  With a sound, not too dissimilar to that of a hundred trees crashing to the ground, the side of the black ship gained a hole at water level that a man could put his head and shoulders through without hindrance.

  It wasn’t long at all, what with her magically enhanced speed and turn, that the large cog began to list towards the galley who’d fired on her.

  A large, facially tattooed man in black maille and plate appeared at the passing aft-castle’s gunwale, the blade of a longsword pointing down.

  ‘Betrayer!’ Alden-Fenn shouted, eyes finding the only man on a ship full of goblins and hobyahs. His man.

  Before Bosun could deny it, before he could do anything bar hit the deck, bolts and arrows filled the air between the two vessels. And before Bosun could do more than scrabble to and fall into his hole, the same thing happened between the galley and Sessio’s splintered stern.

  Chapter 30 – A new debt

  Bodies lay scattered, many stuck with arrows, others hacked and slashed. Several groaned and whimpered, their wounds being tended by sailors; one screamed as the ship’s barber-surgeon sawed through her mangled limb.

  A young officer approached Alden-Fenn, an angry red line across the man’s ashen face.

  ‘Your nose may fall off you know?’ Alden-Fenn quipped, the hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. ‘Still, at least the man who sliced you is gone.’

  ‘You’re joking, at a time like this?’ The officer frowned.

  Alden-Fenn’s shrug creaked as it lifted his black pouldrons. ‘Who said I was joking?’

  The officer raised a hand to his split nose and grimaced, pulling his blooded fingers away, eyeing them with fear.

  ‘Report,’ Alden-Fenn said, turning and watching the white sails of Sessio carry the guild’s mark away.

  Composing himself, the officer went on. ‘There’s a hole in the hull even you could fit through. T’was the cannon the galley pulled behind it. And after that, the goblins stopped firing on Sessio.’

  ‘I’m aware of that. I wanted to know how long until we’re underway?’ Alden-Fenn kept his eyes on his prey.

  A deep sigh came from behind him, audible over the moans and groans of his sailors, assassins and ship alike. ‘A day or two, with our… remaining mage’s assistance.’ The officer struggled to highlight the loss. Alden-Fenn heard it in the young man’s voice.

  ‘She…’

  ‘I know, Master. I wasn’t far from her when… when it happened.’

  Alden-Fenn’s gut churned and it was nothing to do with the listing ship. ‘That spell came from Mannino’s first mate.’ He touched finger to burnt cheek, the recent memory of her destruction far more painful.

  ‘Aye, Master Hitchmogh himself,’ the officer confirmed, unnecessarily.

  Alden-Fenn rounded on the lad, who’d replaced a seasoned officer killed in the fighting. Alden-Fenn maintained a calm visage despite the tumultuous rage boiling within. After all, he’d lost his lover to that bastard first mate.

  ‘Add Hitchmogh to the list. I’ll pay the guild fee myself for that mark, and pleasure.’

  ‘I’ll make it so, Master, once we’re in a better state.’

  ‘Make it so now.’ Alden-Fenn need not speak twice. The officer rushed below deck, blood-streaked pale face a whiter shade than before.

  Looking back at the departing sails of Sessio, Alden-Fenn turned his attention to the equally shrinking goblin war galley.

  ‘When we’re fit to sail,’ he shouted for all to hear, ‘we head for Wesson; send a bird.’

  A man with the barber-surgeon screamed. Alden-Fenn didn’t flinch.

  ‘And someone make note,’ he continued, eyes on the galley, ‘our former brother, who now calls himself Bosun, is a traitor to the Black Guild and has a mark on his head.’

  Several assassins voiced their agreement to that and another officer disappeared below deck to make note and prepare a bird.

  ‘I do you a service putting a mark on your head, Bosun,’ Alden-Fenn said to himself. ‘For if I had you in my own hands…’ The martial master of the Black Guild squeezed his fists at the thought of what he’d do to the only man who’d ever dared betray him. ‘Pray I never get the chance, old friend. Pray I never get the chance.’

  Bosun shuddered as he sat on his hessian rolls.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Prow asked, coming forward. ‘Is it over?’ she added, when Bosun stared but said nothing.

  Pain-filled screams and wailing shouts from above answered her question.

  ‘The battle may be over, as Charlzberg pulls away and lets Sessio go, but it’s just begun for us, lass.’

  Prow shuddered at the fear in Bosun’s eyes.

  ‘I’m not even sure what will happen when I go up top.’

  ‘The goblins have turned on you?’ Prow’s breaths quickened and she pulled her knees up before her, wrapping them in a defensive hug, the likes of which was familiar to them both now.

  He grunted a bitter laugh. ‘If only it were just them. I suppose you could say I turned on them though… and they responded in kind. As will he…’ Bosun managed another laugh, although there was no mirth in the sound and his eyes remained vacant orbs that stared at nothing in particular.

  ‘It sounds bad up there.’

  Goblins continued to moan and wail up top, likely from the quick arrow storm that the ships had unleashed on one another whilst parting company.

  ‘It could be worse, lass.’ Bosun focused on her. ‘A lot worse.’

  Prow swallowed hard and dared ask, ‘How so?’

  Another humourless laugh. ‘The dumb shit of an admiral could have missed his mark!’

  Prow frowned.

  Bosun fell back and closed his eyes. ‘Then there’d be nothing stopping Alden-Fenn’s retali
ation.’

  It wasn’t long at all until flat but broken clenching teeth faced clenching teeth. Narrowed eyes glared at narrowed eyes. Flaring nostrils snorted as the admiral faced the mutineer.

  ‘Drown me, but the shit is standing up to him,’ Spyde whispered, his incredulous gaze moving between Charlzberg and Bosun.

  ‘You had no right—’

  ‘I had no right?’ Bosun’s knuckles whitened at his sides. ‘I had no right?’ he shouted, visibly shaking. Goblins surrounded him. Armed goblins. Sneering goblins. They’d massed as soon as Bosun appeared from his hole.

  ‘This is my ship, Bosun, Squall take you. Mine! My fleet!’

  ‘It’s a fucking galley towing a boat, you little freak.’

  ‘That bested an assassin ship—’

  ‘Shut it, bastard,’ Bosun said to Spyde, without looking to the net above. ‘You,’ Bosun pointed at the admiral, ‘wanted me to help you take revenge on Mannino. You did, Charlzberg—’

  ‘Admiral!’ Charlzberg snapped the word, his voice more commanding than it had ever been.

  Bosun sighed and rolled his eyes. ‘I’ve no time for this,’ he said. ‘We need to flee. Now. We need to leave the area before Alden-Fenn rights his ship and comes for us—’

  ‘For you, traitor.’ Charlzberg sneered all the more. ‘You betrayed me and now,’ he licked his awful lips and grinned, ‘and now your master thinks you betrayed him too.’

  ‘I’ve had enough, I’m taking the fucking galley.’ Bosun strode forward. He was stopped two steps later as goblin held poleaxes flanked Charlzberg. Looking behind, he saw more of the same. ‘You’re not serious, lads? You’d dare stop me?’

  ‘Admiral smashed assassin ship,’ one goblin said, beady eyes glinting in the sun, finger pointing at the still visible black ship.

  ‘You’re not Admiral, Bosun. Admiral is Admiral,’ said another, from behind.

  ‘Screw me sideways, Charlzberg, you finally and actually found your command and earned some loyalty from these shits.’ Bosun couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, hands now on hips, weapons pointing at him from all angles.

  Charlzberg grinned all the more. ‘I offer you this, Bosun—’

  ‘What? You offer me what?’

  ‘A bet, a wager; an accord between officers.’

  ‘This should be good.’ Bosun lifted his chin. ‘Go on, hit me with it.’

  ‘We fight, you and I. We fight for this fleet. Winner takes all.’

  ‘Loser?’

  Charlzberg’s smile widened. ‘Loser takes a fall.’ He glanced to the side of the ship and the sea beyond.

  Spyde cursed long and loud, consequences be damned. Tull and the twins did too.

  Bosun laughed. ‘You’ll fight me for the two boats, one on one; a dual? Are you serious?’

  Charlzberg’s smile disappeared as quickly as the crossbow wielding goblins appeared. ‘No, I’m not.’ Charlzberg turned and walked away. Crossbow mechanisms clunked. Bolts flew.

  ‘Shit!’ Bosun ran.

  Prow sucked in a breath as she saw the development on deck. Bosun sprinted towards her, ill-veined bolts whipping past him at odd angles as he knocked weapons aside and barrelled through the goblins wielding them. One of the goblins fell back, crossbow bolt embedded in his face.

  ‘Out, now!’ Bosun yelled, eyes on Prow.

  Heart pounding, Prow did as she was told. There was no way she was going to stay aboard a goblin galley.

  Goblins shouted and hobyahs howled. More bolts skipped down the deck or sailed off over the gunwales, one leaving a crossbow at a right angle and thudding a goblin sailor from the galley to splash into the sea.

  Holding her hand out to Bosun, Prow allowed the man to grab it and pull her along towards the back of the ship. She held her breath, awaiting the agonising impact that would strike her at any moment.

  ‘Hurry!’ Bosun dragged her along. ‘Goblins can’t aim for shit and their weapons are as bad, but if we don’t…’ They reached the Ptarmigan Twins by the tiller. Both hit the deck, hands over their heads. Tull covered his eyes and hung limp as Prow and Bosun leapt past him, one either side of his rope. ‘…jump now,’ Bosun continued, mid-air, ‘Squall’s luck will take us.’

  They landed heavily on the gun boat trailing close behind the galley. One of the goblins was trying to pull a crossbow bolt from a fallen companion, but when they saw Bosun and Prow’ arrival, it didn’t take long before they were voluntarily swimming.

  ‘Cut the rope.’ Bosun handed Prow a knife.

  Panic taking her, she stared at the pitted blade in her hand. Bosun cursed and snatched it back, dropping the oar he’d been lifting.

  ‘They’re taking the cannon!’ Tull shouted from above.

  ‘I liked you, Tull, you bastard,’ Bosun shouted, eyes on the rope he was sawing through. ‘Pull!’ he shouted as loud as he could. The rope frayed and snapped. The sudden deceleration of the boat was marked by the equally sudden acceleration of the galley. The hobyahs were heaving once more.

  ‘Pull!’ Bosun screamed.

  Shaking, Prow looked to Bosun, who rushed to one of the oars. ‘Grab the other oar, quick,’ he said, pointing it out. Prow did as she was told, her quickened breaths feeding oxygen to her rushing blood.

  They took and pulled on oars as hard and fast as they could, looking up, fearing the bolts that could very well be about to reach out to them. What they saw instead was more disturbing. A tri-hat wearing goblin with one arm waved, broken and yellow grin wide. Bosun frowned.

  Prow breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Why are they letting us go?’

  Bosun swallowed hard and looked behind them, the way they were heading. His curse turned Prow’s head as the goblin galley pulled away, and two manned launches from the listing, fortified cog of the Black Guild dropped into the water.

  ‘We’re fucked…’ was all Bosun could manage.

  Prow threw down her oar and wept.

  Chapter 31 – Fight or flight

  ‘Surely he’s taken notice by now? We’ve been at it a week and caused him no end of trouble,’ Severun said to Longoss, eyeing the destruction of the Black Guild coach, turned on its side as it was. Severun glanced at Egan and back to Longoss. He sighed before Longoss answered. Coppin could have pulled her hair out at the lot of them.

  ‘Oh aye, wizard. He’ll have known what was what all along. He’s many things is Poi Son,’ Longoss spat, ‘but stupid ain’t one of ’em.’

  ‘Then why has he not moved on us?’ Severun went on.

  Coppin turned from the body she was searching, nausea bringing its bile to burn her throat. She swallowed it down. ‘What do ye think all these blokes in transit were, Severun?’

  Severun rolled his bottom lip and shrugged.

  ‘Severun and I expected, well—’

  ‘What?’ Longoss interrupted Egan. ‘You expected what? Poi Son to come riding for us on some black-clad beastie?’

  A snort was Severun’s reply as he looked to the sky.

  ‘Of course not.’ Egan rubbed his face hard before pulling the brim of his hat low. ‘But we’re none the wiser as to where he is, are we?’

  ‘We’re going about this wrong,’ Severun said, taking a deep breath, looking to the clouds above.

  Coppin stood and wavered. Egan moved to her side, offering a hand. She waved him away, steeling a glance at Longoss, who was looking the other way. I can’t be doing with him smothering me right now, now with how shitty I’m feeling.

  ‘Cooey!?’ Longoss shouted, hands cupped around his gold-filled mouth. ‘Poi Son, ye shite? Come out come out!’ He spun on Severun and Egan, the lines besides his eyes creasing up as he flashed them gold. ‘Any better?’ he said, before stomping off down the deserted street.

  Coppin nodded her thanks to Egan, for his offer of assistance, before making to follow Longoss. Severun caught her arm before she could.

  ‘How long have you known?’ Severun said in a hushed tone.

  Coppin frowned and pulled her arm away, but held
his gaze. Egan offered them both a tight smile and followed Longoss.

  ‘What’re ye talking about…?’ Coppin’s voice trailed off as she found herself holding her stomach, something she’d been doing more often of late. She licked dry lips as her breath quickened. She’d been sick of late too, unbeknown to Longoss. A presumed bug as far as she was concerned… as far as she’d been lying to herself. Gods below…

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Severun said. ‘I thought you knew.’

  She shook her head ever so slightly, before looking at the back of Longoss, who was kicking stones down the street.

  ‘He can’t know,’ she whispered, Severun coming closer still. Oh gods, he can’t know…

  ‘I think he’d be pleased,’ he said, with sincerity.

  She shook her head again. ‘We’ve never, well not since…’ Coppin’s shaky voice trailed off.

  ‘Oh.’ Severun’s voice was barely audible as he followed Coppin’s, taking in the large man now arguing with Egan. ‘I apologise.’

  ‘Don’t.’ She swallowed hard and straightening her back, hand falling away from her stomach. Despite her stoicism in the face of so much, the flash of a particular fleshy face in her mind’s eye brought a tear. Severun placed a hand on her shoulder. Coppin looked round and up to him.

  ‘Can you remove it?’ she asked, serious, eyes boring into Severun’s widened orbs.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The thing inside me? Can you get it out, with magic?’

  Severun took a step back, removed his hand from her shoulder. He looked from her to Longoss and back, then again. ‘I… I—’

  ‘Please, Severun.’ She reduced the gap between them. ‘Please?’

  Head shaking, Severun stammered before Longoss’ bellowing voice drew their attention. When Coppin turned back to Severun, he didn’t return her look.

  ‘Coming,’ Severun shouted, glancing at Coppin one last time. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mouthed, retreating down the street, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck whilst his white staff clacked on the ground. He seemed to be using it to walk, which she hadn’t seen him do before.