Stemming the Tide

by Rosie Scott

  Devlyn's eyes dilated with lust. “You'd better.”

  Koby and I exchanged a grin at how quickly Devlyn changed his tune.

  “Keep giving us deals so we have nowhere else to go,” Jaecar prodded, slowly moving his hand under the table.

  Devlyn chuckled heavily and swooped in to kiss Jaecar's neck. “Only the best for you, handsome,” he murmured, as Jaecar winked at us from over his head.

  “Are we about to get a show?” Koby pondered aloud.

  Jaecar laughed and pulled his hand back. “Not yet. I'm ready for ale.”

  Devlyn groaned with disappointment and peeled himself from Jaecar's side. “Gods, you are a tease.”

  Jaecar smirked and tapped a beat on the table with his fingers. “You like it.”

  Devlyn laughed shortly and pulled a hand through his hair. “Love it, more like. Just as long as there's something waiting for me at the end of the torture.”

  “I was planning on going home with you,” Jaecar replied.

  “Then suddenly drinking doesn't sound so bad,” Devlyn admitted with a smile.

  Jeremoth arrived at our table carrying a large tray full of pitchers. He set it down and announced the types of ale as he transferred pitchers to the table.

  “Poison,” he said, putting down two pitchers of Alderi ale. “Highlander Grog. Mycena brew. Now, forgive me, my pale friend,” Jeremoth faced Devlyn, “but I can't recall your drug of choice. Wine?”

  “Yes, please,” Devlyn replied. “Passiflora, if you have it.”

  “I do. Glass or bottle?”

  “Bring him a bottle,” I requested. “My treat.”

  “Well, well,” Devlyn said enthusiastically. “Thank you.”

  I paid for his wine the last time we invited him out as well. Either Devlyn had forgotten about the time I'd assaulted him during my rage over Patrick's death, or he had truly forgiven me and moved on. Regardless, guilt guided my decisions.

  “You sure know how to treat your business partners, Calder,” Devlyn said happily as Jeremoth left to grab the bottle.

  “Sure, but Jaecar goes above and beyond,” I jested in monotone.

  Jaecar snorted a laugh into his mug and made a crude gesture with his free hand.

  “I'm thankful to you both for introducing us,” Devlyn said, ogling Jaecar as he tugged a ferris cigarette out of his pocket.

  “We might send more mercenaries your way,” Koby replied, using the opportunity to update him.

  Devlyn glanced up at Koby while lighting the cigarette. “For sex? Ferris?”

  “Both, if they're so inclined, but we'd like to think that we've establish our partnership enough that you'd also be willing to serve as a base of communication for us,” Koby continued. “We have high plans for these pirates and are trying to get others involved.”

  Devlyn waved out the match and leaned back to smoke. “Would this bring me business?”

  “It's highly likely,” I replied, encouraging Devlyn's gaze to switch to me. “For mercenary crews to be strong and motivated, they need gold and allies. Those mercenaries Vallen lured out to the Forks?” I waved a hand toward the west. “I'm hopeful that fending off attacks on the wildlands and facing the prospect of losing their supply of ferris will get them riled up enough to go on the offensive and start fighting back. But they won't just fight, they'll want to make money. That's where you come in.”

  Devlyn raised his eyebrows with interest. “I see where you're going with this.”

  “It'll take time,” I admitted. “We'll have to grow a bit at a time. Either build or steal back ships for these crews to pilot. Stage small attacks. See that these mercenaries actually complete their voyages safely despite the risks so they're confident in going on the next. It'll take years, but the pirates blossomed in such a time period.”

  Jeremoth set down a glass and bottle of wine before Devlyn. “And things are already set in motion, my friends,” he announced.

  “For what?” Koby asked.

  “Mind if I join you?” Jeremoth asked, his hand hovering over the back of a free chair.

  “Please,” I requested.

  Jeremoth tugged out the chair and sat down. “I suppose that letter didn't go into much detail,” he mused, staring at the letter from Vallen on the table before me. “Why do you think Silvi's so quiet? Nearly everyone who could go went out to the Forks. People are already pissed, friends. It's one thing for the pirates to rule the seas; now that they've gone so far to breach the wildlands, it's getting people to act.” He met my gaze. “Guess you guys didn't have time to go to the harbor office yet.”

  “We came here immediately after docking,” Koby affirmed.

  “Then you missed the signs,” Jeremoth replied. “Your friend Vallen evidently had his messengers spread the word while they were here. Giving your crew credit for tracking down the stolen ferris before the situation worsened and for going after the pirates responsible. When he requested aid and offered the free ferris in the bulletin, it didn't sound desperate because he made it sound like the situation was under control. Which it isn't, I'm assuming—not yet. But the chatter in town was that people had no qualms about going to make a stand against pirates in the Forks because the people in charge knew what they were doing. The people in charge being Vallen, Calder, and Koby.”

  I laughed. “Then they're in for a rude awakening. We never know what we're doing.”

  Jeremoth chuckled. “Don't underestimate yourselves. You've completed multiple voyages in waters few dare to cross and you've risked your lives for the welfare of Silvi and the wildlands. People are starting to notice.”

  Perhaps I should have felt pride. Instead, having people look up to me or follow my lead just made me nervous. Vallen's intentions for spreading this information were good and productive, but now I feared failing even more.

  “I overheard you say you're headed to the Forks next,” Jeremoth continued. “Do you have any idea what the pirates have planned? How many times will they attack?”

  “We believe Cale Woodburn will bring multiple ships in an attempt to wipe out the defensive forces for good and try again to build his own paddies,” I replied.

  “Who is this Cale character?” Jeremoth questioned.

  “The right-hand man of the pirate gang leader, Vruyk Kleng,” I said. “This mission of theirs is particularly important to Cale. We came across him while we were near Killick. He knows the people in the wildlands have resisted his efforts so he'll likely be leading the next attack, and he'll be better prepared. I want Cale dead for more reasons than causing chaos. After I kill him and his attack fails, I hope the pirates will let go of the ferris paddy idea because it costs them too much time and resources to be fruitful.”

  “If that's the case and all those mercenaries in the Forks see you prevail,” Jeremoth began, “I can't imagine they wouldn't listen to what you have to say.”

  “If we give them a victory, it will embolden them,” Koby agreed optimistically.

  “Then you're free to toss my name around in any direction,” Devlyn spoke up, convinced of our motivations and goal. “If anyone needs a ferris distributor, I trust you'll recommend me.”

  “I'll recommend you even if they don't,” I replied. “If you agree to be a base of communications for us, we'll be guiding all sorts of mercenaries in your direction that want gold but might not know what products to deal in. It'll be up to you to convince them into a partnership.”

  Devlyn blew out a stream of smoke. “I like that idea, but I know how you are. What are your terms?”

  “Fifteen percent off the base cost of all ferris for bringing you the business,” I requested smoothly.

  Devlyn grimaced. “Five.”

  “Twelve.”

  He hesitated. “I assume this discount starts after these mercenaries start showing up at my office.”

  I tried not to smirk. I hadn't clarified the timing so I could start getting the discount with our next shipment, but Devlyn was learning my ways. “Of course,” I agree
d.

  Devlyn nodded. “Right, then.”

  I stood and reached over for a handshake. As soon as Devlyn stood, I said, “Fifteen it is, then.”

  “Deal.” Devlyn shook my hand for a moment before realization flashed in his eyes. “Shit!”

  Koby snickered and pointed out, “It'll be worth it, Devlyn.”

  The Celd laughed and shook his head, flustered by being out-haggled once again. “It better be.”

  I grinned as I took my seat again. “Now that that's settled, I have to ask you the same thing,” I said, switching my gaze to Jeremoth.

  “I'll agree to anything,” Jeremoth said with a smile, holding up his hands like a truce. “I don't want to be swindled.”

  I chuckled. “I just want to be able to rely on you for communication if we need it. Messages, letters, and information from one mercenary to another.”

  Jeremoth scoffed like it was ridiculous of me to ask him. “You know you can always rely on me, brother.”

  Twenty-six

  Normally, the voyage between Killick and Silvi took a full moon. Thanks to our quick pace and determination, we saved so much time on the return trip that we left Silvi on foot for the Forks exactly a moon after leaving Killick, even considering the necessary business we completed in the harbor. We hired mercenaries in Silvi to guard the Cunning Linguist while we were gone, and we gathered about two dozen volunteers that were planning to heed the call to the Forks anyway and decided to go with us. Jeremoth hadn't exaggerated the spread of information due to Vallen's signs; although no mercenaries knew us on sight, they recognized our names upon our introductions and collectively admired our rebellious deeds against the pirates.

  Perhaps our plans of large-scale mutiny against the authority the pirates held over the seas had some basis in practicality, after all.

  We traveled north along the rainforest river that cut the continent in half. Déjà vu hit me repeatedly; this was the same path we traveled out to the Forks just a year ago. Not only was it visually familiar, but because the majority of both trips took place in Red Moon, the weather was similar as well. Rain showers blessed plants with nourishment, moisturized the skin of Alderi crew members, and annoyed everyone else. The rainforest wildlife sounded agitated, like so many people had traveled through here lately the animals could never rest. I took it as a good sign.

  Sage helpfully pointed out halfway up the river that we might not have access to rowboats with which to cross the two strips of ocean before making it to the Forks. We had left the boats tied to rainforest trees along the water's edge when we returned from the Forks last year, but if other mercenaries used the same route they might have left them on the other side and out of reach from us. If this was the case, Hilly promised she knew enough to build a raft we could use to cross instead.

  We needn't have worried. When we arrived at the first cove, a sizeable wooden platform with railings on either side floated near the opposite shore. Someone had built it recently, for the wood was freshly sanded and bright. Two long, thick ropes linked the platform with a pulley attached to a tree on either side of the water. I'd never seen such a thing. On a wooden sign posted to a tree on the waterside were instructions in black paint: Ferry to Forks. Use ropes.

  “Use ropes to do what?” Koby questioned, eyeing the contraption. “Pull it?”

  Sage chuckled lightly at our ignorance and stepped forward. “You can pull ferries in either direction,” he explained, grabbing the top rope and tugging it toward him. Across the cove, the ferry started moving slowly through the water toward us.

  “We had nothing like this in Eteri,” Neliah said, crossing her arms as she watched Sage work. “Only bridges over our rivers.”

  “There is a ferry in the northern Cel Forest,” Sage explained, still pulling the platform like it took barely any effort. “There's a large river that flows into the forest from the Servis Ocean off the northern coast. In Celendar, there is a beautiful ornate bridge built of white wood and silver embellished railings that civilians can use to cross the river, but it connects two main roads. In the north outside of the city, there is a rope ferry like this. There are no roads that far north, so it doesn't see heavy traffic. But hunters and Celdic defense forces often use it whenever they patrol the forest.”

  “Yer just a bastion of knowledge about that mysterious city,” Hilly said like a compliment. “They taught us in the army not to ask any questions about Celendar and to sure as hell never expect to see it. I always did wonder what ya'll were hidin' in there.”

  Sage smiled. “Many Celds are still bitter and distrustful of Chairel's influence and dominance. Chairel has taken their land and many of the lives of their loved ones in wars Celendar would otherwise not be a part of. The only autonomy they feel they have left is knowledge and their ability to keep it secret.”

  “Is it true ya talk to plants and animals usin' a language they can understand?” Hilly asked, incessantly curious.

  “It is true that many Celds try.”

  “Do they talk back?” Hilly prodded. “'Cause considerin' all the plants I've squatted over to leave homemade presents, if it turns out they have sentience there's a lotta apologizin' I need to be doin'.”

  Sage laughed as the ferry finally pulled up to shore. “Personally, I view Old Elvish to be as ineffective as religion,” he admitted. “If plants can communicate with people, I have seen no evidence of it. I believe they would enjoy your presents, Hilly, and the nourishment therewith.”

  “I don't understand how,” Hilly began, “but ya managed to make literal shit sound polite.”

  Sage bowed lightly. “I exist to serve, my lady.”

  “Well, when ya put it like that,” Hilly mused, raising a flirtatiously playful eyebrow at the Celd as she waddled forward to board the ferry.

  The ferry moved even slower with all us aboard, but it was better than using rowboats in the sense that we could all fit and go in one trip. Including our crew and the mercenaries we'd gathered in Silvi, we had nearly fifty men squished onto the platform at once. Battle and camping equipment filled in the spaces between our boots, making for a claustrophobic ride. The excess weight also required far more manpower; Hilly, Sage, Jaecar, Koby, Neliah, me, and a few helpful mercenaries hauled the ferry forward. When we arrived on the opposite shore, we were stiff legged but eager to continue, for traveling across the cove on the ferry saved us time and trips.

  Passersby before us had marked the northwestern path across the forested peninsula with splotches of red paint at eye level on the bark of tall trees. The mercenary parties who had trekked out here of their own will over the seasons had evidently heeded their direction; mosses that once carpeted the land between trees were trampled, damaged, and browning with weakness. Koby and Sage had to travel farther out from the path in the mornings to forage for fruits, fungi, and other alchemical ingredients, for the near land was picked over and barren. Evidence of campfires marred patches of dirt with soot and the smell of old smoke. They left carcasses of animals hunted for food and supplies in bloodied piles of fur and feathers. Piles of human and elven scat hid in the shadows of bushes and trees, dried from time as they slowly became one with the nutrient-rich soil.

  The last time we crossed the strip of ocean from the rainforest and to the main island of the Forks, it had been miserable. At the time, we hadn't known what to expect, so we approached slowly, quietly, and at night, hauling all our supplies with us one rowboat at a time. Such inconveniences wouldn't bother us now. For not only did the sun helpfully highlight the ocean and the elevated island across from us, but we also didn't have to travel in silence. Lastly, like a gift delivered from the sympathetic gods in the heavens, a second ferry awaited us. They linked this one between a rainforest tree and an installed sturdy post on the shore of the island, for no trees dotted its eastern side.

  “Thank Vallen,” I breathed with relief.

  Koby chuckled. “You immediately assume this is his doing?”

  “If he didn't have a han
d in it himself, he ordered it to be done,” I said with no doubt. “You know how practically minded he is.”

  “True.” Koby sighed. “I miss the bastard.”

  So did I. As we ferried over the water and then trekked over the island's eastern hills, I repeatedly went over the words I would use to explain everything to Vallen and Jayce. The plan to use the leviathan inspired by its interruption of our battle, how Kali had died defending me, my stupidity in bragging about our progress here to Cale so that he could return with greater forces. I prayed Vallen would forgive my impudence. It was my fault Cale was returning at all; it made me ever more determined to end his reign here, and with my own hands.

  Heavy rainfall had turned the narrow eastern island into a soppy mess. Rich dirt melted into mud only tamed by clusters of rock or tracks of earlier passersby. Thorny and tangled bushes failed to give the brown land color, for the hardy plants were rarely leafy and instead were built of twigs. As the rolling hills settled down near the pinched middle of the island just before it descended into the marshes, signs of life cropped up. Thorn bushes were harvested or trimmed down like their branches were useful for some project. A small fishing boat was pulled ashore to the south, only attached to the land by a crudely-made stake.

  On the 81st of Red Moon and my one hundred and sixtieth birthday, the crest of the last hill of the eastern island stood as our final obstacle before rejoining Vallen and Jayce's group. We ascended it much like we had a year ago when planning to attack the pirates who settled here. This time, a whole new view awaited us.

  The rainy season had pushed the marshes beyond their limits, raising the water level and turning shallow standing water into pools requiring boats. The paddy fields Cale's men once formed and tried to work with had lost their identity and shape due to weather and neglect. All the ferris plants were gone, leaving only overflowing misshapen rectangular paddies. The buildings the pirates built upon man-made raised sections of land had collapsed as the land melted and refused to be tamed. However, the shacks they built upon pilings remained; the rising water hit a higher point on the supportive posts, but the lodges themselves were unharmed.