by Mel Odom
Farok remained silent.
Wick knew the old captain had to weigh his decision carefully. Arghant wasn’t idly boasting; the goblin captain would stay at his chosen task. When goblinkin got the scent of someone else’s blood, they were loath to give it up. Some legends had it that goblins had been born in the shadows, raised from carrion feeders and given an intelligence, then driven to kill or enslave every other creature in the world. Lord Kharrion had reached that dark spark inside the goblin race and fanned it into a consuming flame.
“Captain Farok,” Arghant thundered, “I await yer decision impatiently.”
Farok swept his gaze over the crew spread across One-Eyed Peggie’s deck. “Ye men would fight, an’ I know ye would die for me an’ this ship an’ our flag. But me, I’m a-thinkin’ that today ain’t our day. There’ll be another day. An’ there’s others that need to know the goblins are a-gettin’ ships from somewheres.” He cleared his throat and gripped the stern castle railing. “Those of ye that have been with me know I don’t run from fights. More often than not, I start ’em.”
Nervous laughter echoed through the crew, but it only lasted for a moment.
“I ain’t a-gonna ask ye to vote on this,” Farok continued. “I’m a-gonna make the decision. That way, if’n there are any stories about this later, people can say ol’ Cap’n Farok was the one what crawfished on the fight.”
“Cap’n,” Hallekk started.
The old captain held up a hand. “I’ll not hear of it, Hallekk, I swear I won’t. I count seven men a-lyin’ dead there at yer feet, an’ I’m not a-gonna count any more if’n I have a choice. An’ I do as long as I’m cap’n of this vessel.”
“Aye, sir,” the big dwarf grumbled.
It’s the only thing to do, Wick thought desperately. If we fight, we’re going to die. He looked around at the crew, surprised at how many of them he comfortably called friend these days.
“Cap’n Farok,” Arghant called, his tone bordering on mocking.
“Get yer knickers out of the twist ye’re a-puttin’ ’em in,” Farok yelled back. “I’m willin’ to part with half me cargo.”
“That’s not goin’ to be—”
“Half!” the old captain growled. “An’ any more ain’t open for discussion.”
For a time, the only sound over the sea was the wind through the sails and rigging. Wick stood nervously, wondering what the outcome might be. He didn’t want to die, and he didn’t want to see the men around him die either. But he knew the only way the goblinkin would give in would be to believe One-Eyed Peggie’s crew would be willing to die for anything less.
Finally, Arghant yelled, “Agreed.”
10
The Bargain
Wick lurched across the pirate ship’s deck as he carried a small crate that was incredibly heavy. Since there were no markings on the crate, he had no clue what was inside, but it seemed to gurgle quite happily. Somehow, even without markings of any sort, Hallekk seemed to know what was in every box, bundle, and bag that the hold held. One-Eyed Peggie sat silent and still on the sea.
The dwarven pirates worked quickly to unpack the hold and load it into longboats Arghant had sent over from his ship. Still, the job took hours, even longer than unpacking the monthly supplies carried up the Knucklebones Mountains to the Library.
Pirates filled the longboats and carefully tied down all the crates and bags. As soon as one of them was full, the goblin crew pulled on the rope they had attached to the longboats, reeling the boats in like fish. Sifting through all the cargo took hours, and Captain Farok wouldn’t stint on the bargain.
Finally, the last load was fitted onto one of the two longboats and pushed out away from One-Eyed Peggie. Wick watched glumly with the rest of the pirate crew, aware that they were now at a rather precipitous moment. The stench coming off the goblin ship was intense enough that Wick’s stomach turned and churned threateningly.
When the goblinkin pulled the last longboat next to their own ship and began unpacking it, cackling with gleeful greed, Arghant stepped up onto the stern castle with his two guards again.
“An’ how do I know this is half yer cargo, Cap’n Farok?” the goblin captain demanded.
“Because I give ye me word,” Farok responded. “An’ whatever else I may be, I’m a man of me word.” A sour smile carved his haggard face. “Then again, ye’re welcome to pipe aboard an’ have a look about for yerself.”
“With a small party of warriors?”
“No.” Farok shook his head.
“No,” Arghant replied. “I’d rather trust ye on the amount than on me safety.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, then.” Captain Farok faced his foe across the open expanse of the Blood-Soaked Sea. The fog was dense enough now that the two ships blurred occasionally, almost but not quite swept from view. “An’ I’ll be a-prayin’ we get the chance to do this again someday.”
“There will be another day,” Arghant promised. “There’s a lot of us goblin pirates a-turnin’ eyes toward the Blood-Soaked Sea. An’ we’re all a-thinkin’ mayhap ye dwarves have been a-runnin’ these waters for far too long.”
“Then we’re done with this business,” Farok said.
“No,” Arghant said. “We’ll also have the halfer ye got aboard yer ship.”
Wick took an involuntary step back as the goblin captain’s eyes lit on him. A change in the breeze brought the stench of the goblin ship rolling over him. The little librarian swallowed bile.
Immediately, the pirate crew rose up in arms. “Ye’ll not get the little man without a fight,” Hallekk declared, leading the hoarse shouting.
“The dweller,” Captain Farok proclaimed, “is part of this crew. Ye’ll not be taking a crewman as long as I live.”
“Ye may not live for much longer.” Arghant waved and goblin pirates stepped to the railing again. They raised their shields and showed their readiness. “An’ I can’t believe ye’d be a-willin’ to sacrifice yer whole crew for a halfer that can’t be worth much as a pirate.”
Wick was surprised, too. Very few people had ever stood up for him, and none of them had ever had to risk their lives to do it. His eyes burned.
“Don’t ye worry none, little man,” Hallekk said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Them goblins won’t take ye from this ship without a-bleedin’ for ye.”
Fearfully, Wick glanced back at the goblin crew. Blood lust showed on their fierce faces. He knew the goblinkin wouldn’t turn away from the battle once they started it.
“He is crew,” Captain Farok insisted. “An’ not one crewman aboard my ship would be a-willin’ to see another crewman off to yer untender mercies.”
Hallekk and the crew roared their approval of Captain Farok’s decision. They stamped their feet and slapped their weapons against the ship’s railing, creating a furor.
Immediately, the goblinkin began beating their drums again, filling the air with savage thunder. The beats seemed somehow predatory.
More frightened than he’d ever been in his life, even after the frightful things he’d been through before leaving Greydawn Moors and since, Wick glanced at the men around him. The thought of them dying on his behalf nearly broke the little librarian’s heart. Most of the crew, though of illmannered disposition many days, he’d come to know as good-hearted men. They hadn’t asked for their lot to be cast upon the sea, but they’d seen the worthiness of the cause they championed. The Builders had established the Blood-Soaked Sea pirates as a defense against goblin encroachment, and to hide the true secret of the Vault of All Known Knowledge.
Wick knew no matter how much the thought scared him that he could do no less. He touched Hallekk’s arm. “Hallekk,” he said hoarsely, his voice breaking.
The big dwarf glanced down at Wick with a fierce grin. “Don’t ye worry, Wick. We’ll not be a-lettin’ them have ye. Ye’ll not know the weight of a slaver’s collar as long as there’s a breath in me.”
Wick tried to speak, but couldn’t. His voice
betrayed him, staying locked up tight in his throat. He shook his head slowly.
Understanding hit Hallekk. The fighting smile dropped from the big dwarf’s face, leaving only concern. “No, little man. Ye can’t mean what I think ye’re a-meanin’.”
Wick swallowed hard, hoping he didn’t pass out from fear. His legs trembled and he could scarcely stand. “It … it’s the only way, Hallekk.”
“We can fight them, little man.”
“We didn’t fight them for the cargo,” Wick said.
“But it’s only cargo. Not a man’s life.”
Their conversation drew the attention of the nearby pirates. Many of them weren’t so quick to agree with Hallekk and the little librarian couldn’t blame them.
“I need to speak to Captain Farok,” Wick said.
Hallekk hesitated.
“Please, Hallekk,” Wick pleaded. “Before I lose my nerve and find myself unable to do what I know needs to be done.”
“By the Old Ones,” Hallekk breathed in resignation, “but it ain’t fair, little man. Ye didn’t ask for none of this.”
Wick couldn’t say anything. He turned his attention from the big dwarf to the stern castle where Captain Farok stood. The old captain looked down at him, and Wick guessed the man somehow knew what he planned. Was approval in those old eyes? The little librarian didn’t know, but the captain’s gaze allowed him to straighten his spine and walk on legs that threatened to go out from under him at any moment.
Captain Farok exchanged glances with Wick as the little librarian climbed the stairs with Hallekk at his side. Every pirate on the ship had gotten quiet, and even the goblins had stopped beating their drums.
Wick stopped before the old captain. “Captain Farok,” the little librarian said in a quavering voice.
“Aye, Wick.”
“I can’t let you fight these goblins for me.”
The captain put fire in his voice, speaking loudly enough that every pirate aboardship could hear him. “An’ I can’t let them take ye.”
“Sir, I respect your feelings,” Wick said, “but if you fight them, you’re going to die.”
Anger flamed the old captain’s face. “Have ye no faith in this crew, then?”
Wick’s knees trembled and nearly buckled. He wished he could just let the captain give the order to fight. It wasn’t his decision, after all. He could—but he knew in his heart that he couldn’t. “Captain Farok, I have all the faith a person could have in this crew. I know what they would do. If you give the order, they would die to protect me.”
“Not ye,” Captain Farok replied. “They’d be a-dyin’ to protect the sanctity of this ship. We’re pirates of the Blood-Soaked Sea, an’ there’s not fiercer fightin’ men to be found.”
“If they would die to protect the sanctity of this ship,” Wick said, wishing his voice didn’t break so, “then how can I expect myself to do any less?”
“Wick,” the old man argued, “ye’re not captain of this ship.”
“No, but perhaps if I surrender myself to the goblinkin, they will let the rest of you go free.”
“An’ they may not. We’ve already had the taste of their treachery, an’ it’s as foul as the odor a-comin’ from that ship. They might start out askin’ for you, then ask for another an’ another.”
“If they do, then you’ll know.”
Captain Farok shook his head. “They only want ye out of spite, Wick. Just one more concession to embarrass me an’ take the pride from this ship.”
Wick had to work to make his words come out of his tight throat. “Sir, with all respect, if we fight them, many of this crew will die. I can’t be responsible for that.”
Captain Farok was silent for a moment, then, “It’s a brave thing ye’re a-doin’, Wick.”
Wick shook his head. “It’s not brave. It’s the only sensible thing to do.” His voice broke. “If I was brave, I wouldn’t be so afraid now.”
“Fear an’ bravery,” Captain Farok said, “ye’re a-gonna find, always live under the same sails an’ share the same breezes. An’ oftentimes they seem to chart a man’s course no matter what he thinks he’d do if given his choice.”
The old captain’s voice broke then, and the sound surprised Wick.
“Something for ye to know, Wick,” Captain Farok said, “I’ve always found a man a-layin’ out his course by wits alone often ends up in reeffilled waters than one who’s a-layin’ out his course by followin’ his heart. Ye’ve got a good heart. I’ve seen that in ye. An’ ye’ll never find a truer compass.”
Wick wiped his face, hoping no one noticed the tears on his face. “We have to hurry. If we wait much longer, I don’t know if I’m going to be strong enough to do this.”
Tenderly, Captain Farok laid his hand on Wick’s shoulder. “Ye’re stronger than ye realize, Third Level Librarian Wick, an’ I’ve met few men as brave as ye are.”
Despite the old captain’s shaking hand, Wick felt the strength in his grip. The little librarian drew strength from the touch. He straightened a little more and squared his shoulders. “You’ll have to give the order,” Wick said. “I don’t think I can.”
Captain Farok nodded. “As ye will. But know ye this: If’n ye ever find yer way clear back to the Blood-Soaked Sea, there’s a berth a-waitin for ye aboard One-Eyed Peggie should ye want it.”
“Thank you,” Wick said.
“Hallekk,” Captain Farok said.
“Aye, Cap’n.” Hallekk snuffled.
“Get this sailor a boat. I’ll not have him sent over to them blasted goblins a-ferried by their crew. An’ if ye can’t find enough brave men to pull them oars, ye come get me an’ I’ll pull one with ye.”
“Aye, Cap’n.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Wick said.
Hallekk dropped his hand onto Wick’s shoulder. “C’mon, little man, afore I don’t have the guts what ye do.”
The little librarian walked with Hallekk at his side. They returned to portside amidships. Hallekk helped him into the longboat, then clambered in himself, yelling that he needed a rowing crew.
Wick was surprised how many pirates volunteered, even though they knew they’d be rowing to their deaths if the goblinkin chose to be treacherous. The goblin archers could easily kill everyone aboard the longboat before it could get back to the temporary safety of One-Eyed Peggie.
Hallekk picked five other men from among the crew, then the longboat was lowered into the water. All of the pirates called their goodbyes, and they were all stern-faced and sad.
Wick sat in the longboat’s prow, his stomach rolling with the rise and fall of the choppy waves between the two ships.
“Are ye okay, little man?” Hallekk asked as he pulled his oar in front of Wick.
“No,” Wick admitted truthfully. He glanced over his shoulder at the goblin ship. “You may have to pry me out of this boat when we get there, Hallekk.” He was embarrassed to admit that it was possible. “But if it comes to that, I need you to do it.”
The big dwarf shook his head. “I don’t know that I can do that.”
When they reached the midway point between the two ships, Wick could no longer control his stomach. The stench from the goblin vessel was stronger than ever. Unable to hold back, he leaned over the longboat’s side and threw up, fully expecting a sea monster to rise from below and gobble him down whole. It wouldn’t have surprised him.
Instead, he rose again to hear the jeering laughter of the goblins. His ears burned and he felt miserable, which triggered another bout of nausea. Only this time there was nothing to come up and the dry heaves wracked him, sapping what little strength he had left. The goblins continued to jeer him.
“Steady on, little man,” Hallekk encouraged.
Wick wiped at his mouth but couldn’t escape the sour taste that somehow mirrored the stink clinging to the goblin ship. He wanted so badly to be brave about what he was doing. So many of the heroes he’d read about in Hralbomm’s Wing could face insurmountable danger and t
error and never even bat an eye. And he was throwing up.
When the longboat reached the goblin ship, a goblin kicked a rope ladder down. “Climb up, halfer.”
Wick stood on trembling knees that refused to hold him. He would have fallen if it hadn’t been for Hallekk steadying him with a hand.
“I just want ye to know,” Hallekk said, gazing into Wick’s eyes, “that I’ve never met a braver man.” He hugged the little librarian in a fierce embrace, and tears stained his face.
“I have a favor to ask,” Wick said.
“Aye.”
“If you should return to Greydawn Moors, look up the Mettarin Lamplighter family. Let my ma and da know what’s become of me, that I wasn’t exiled by the Library or left of my own choice.”
“I will, little man.”
Wick set his hands upon the rough rope ladder. The goblins jeered him, calling at him to hurry. “And tell my da,” the little librarian went on, “that I love him and I’m sorry I didn’t try to understand him more.” Then he pushed himself up the rope ladder, hoping his arms and legs didn’t betray him and cause him to slip and fall into the sea.
He went up three steps, but found himself lacking the strength to go any further. He pulled at the ropes but couldn’t manage the next step.
“Haul the halfer up,” someone ordered above.
Wick hung on resolutely as the ladder was hauled up. He bumped against the ship’s hull with bruising force as the ladder twisted. Then rough hands seized him and yanked him aboard. Black talons cut into his flesh and grinning, gruesome faces filled his vision.
A goblin seized him on either side, pinning his arms as they dragged him across the deck to Arghant.
“Do you want us to kill the men aboard the longboat?” a goblin asked eagerly.
“No,” the goblin pirate said. His eyes raked Wick in cruel disdain. “Let ’em live. If’n we push that old cap’n any harder, he’s liable to attack us. Farok’s one of the ones we were warned about.”
One of the ones we were warned about? Despite his fear, Wick’s mind raced. Who had warned the goblins? And why?
