by J M D Reid
“Thank you, Captain.”
Captain Dhar nodded. “Anytime, Lieutenant.”
Chaylene snapped a salute before descending the stairs. She crossed the well deck, skirting past jubilant crew members toasting mugs of grog. She swallowed, wishing for a cup of her own to wet her lips.
“Hold your crossbow like this when you crank it,” Ary was saying when she reached the sailors he drilled. He took the weapon from Charlim’s hands, demonstrating the grip. He held it near the middle of the shaft. “It lets you crank easier. Try it.”
Charlim took back the weapon, cranking it in his hand. He nodded his head.
“That’s good,” Ary nodded, clapping Charlim on the back.
“Adjutant-Lieutenant,” Chaylene said, unable to stop the grin from clashing with her serious tone.
“Lieutenant,” Ary answered with a salute and an answering smile.
Bemusement tickled her sides—she outranked him—and saluted him back. “Officer’s meeting with Admiral Grelen when we arrive at port.”
Ary nodded, glancing at the harbor. The Rheyion Naval Station loomed closer, its orderly buildings rising up the hill overlooking the small harbor. Red-coated marines with thunderbusses stood at guard posts around the dock and two extra ballista emplacements were set up on the grassy slope south of the small port. The Adventurous and the Gallant floated at their berths, the other four piers empty, the Bravado missing.
“Why is half the fleet in port?” she muttered.
Ary shrugged. “Coincidence?”
On the dock, a large tree shorn of bark and branches rested on wooden legs, ready to replace the Dauntless’s missing mainmast. Captain Dhar wanted the new mast seated and rigged as fast as possible. The sailors would have this evening to carouse in town before the work began tomorrow. A short figure ran to the end of the Dauntless’s berth dressed in a sky-blue jacket and waving with bouncing enthusiasm.
“Is that Zori?” Ary asked.
Chaylene beamed. “Yes, it is.” She waved back at her friend. “She’s looking fit.”
“Yep,” Guts growled, startling Chaylene. She hadn’t heard the big marine’s approach. He took a position to her right, grinning as he adjusted his fake nose.
The wind died, and the sails went slack. The Dauntless drifted. Sailors scrambled along the ship’s port side. They uncoiled thick hawsers and readied to toss them to the dock. The ship slipped alongside the pier.
“Guts!” Zori shouted, bouncing with enthusiasm. She didn’t wince or clench her side, recovered from her wound in the month since they’d parted.
“You’re still short!” Guts laughed as he leaned over the gunwale. “I thought you were going to work on that.”
Zori shrugged. “I tried, but my spine didn’t cooperate.”
The sailors threw the hawsers. Dock workers in rough linens caught the cables and secured them to mooring posts. Guts leaped from the gunwale. Chaylene’s heart clenched as his red jacket flared around his legs. He slowed his fall with Minor Wind, using his momentum to clear the gap between the ship and the pier. He landed before Zori, scooped her up, and kissed her while half the crew whooped and hollered.
Ary shook his head, grinning.
Chaylene joined him, shock swallowed by joy at witnessing her friends’ embrace.
“Adjutant-Lieutenant,” the captain said from behind.
Ary did a heeled-faced turn and snapped a salute. “Yes, Captain?”
“Speak to your man about the safety regulations.” A hint of a smile played on Captain Dhar’s lips. “I understand he is eager to see his paramour, but that is no excuse.”
“Yes, sir.”
The captain limped to the gangplank, her crutch thumping on the deck, the crew clearing space for their maimed leader. She reached the railing and waved at others flowing down the pier to greet the ship. Xoan, her husband, stood with their almost-grown daughter, Chia. The girl bounced with excitement to rival Zori while Xoan just nodded his head. A few other spouses waited on the docks, smiling and calling out for their loved ones. Chaylene studied them, wondering if their loved ones had survived or if they would receive an empty urn like her mother had.
Tears stung her eyes. She blinked them back. She hoped all those waiting on the docks would find living women and men to welcome back.
The captain stood beside the gangplank, clapping a hand on every member of the deboarding crew, praising their service. Estan strode off almost at a run down the pier, passing jubilant sailors. Chaylene smiled, excited to meet this Esty.
Once the crew had disembarked, the officers could finally leave. Chaylene descended the gangplank before her husband, gripping the rope railing as the wood flexed beneath her feet. It felt fragile as it warped beneath her weight. A small twinge of relief rose from her foot planting on the dock. She’d rather fly over the Storm on Whitesocks than to trust the gangplank’s sturdiness.
“Chaylene!” squealed Zori.
She broke away from Guts and darted down the pier. Chaylene braced herself for an exuberant Zori-hug. Instead, her friend stopped a pace away, drew her back up straight, and snapped a salute with marine-like precision.
“Lieutenant Jayne, how wonderful it is to see you!”
Chaylene groaned. “Have you been talking to Velegrin?”
Velegrin, lounging against a mooring piling, had the hugest grin on his lips.
“He might have mentioned how important it is to salute you, Lieutenant Jayne.” Zori’s smile almost swallowed her face.
“Please, don’t. We’re still scouts. I’m Chaylene, you’re Zori, and he’s mucking out the menagerie and seeing to the pegasi before he gets to relax this evening.”
Velegrin’s smile slid off his face.
Zori giggled. “The lieutenant keeps a tight discipline.”
“You can join him, Zori,” Chaylene said with an arched eyebrow.
“Nope.” Zori took Chaylene’s hand. “We’re celebrating. At the Last Port Tavern.”
Chaylene sighed. “Ary and I have an officers’ meeting with the captain and Admiral Grelen. We’ll meet you afterward?”
“Ooh, how important.” Zori’s slender body shook. Then she flew that last pace to Chaylene. She staggered beneath Zori’s exuberance, hugging her friend back with fierceness. She squeezed Zori tight.
“I missed you,” Chaylene whispered. “So much has happened.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I wish I’d been with you. With all of you.” The smaller woman’s arms almost crushed Chaylene. “Guts mentioned a few . . . things that happened.”
Chaylene ached to tell Zori about the sailor. Tears built in the corners of her eyes. She opened her mouth, wanting to spill out the pain. Emotion choked her throat, preventing the words from coming.
Finally, she gave up and said instead, “I’m glad you’re healthy.”
“Me, too.” Zori broke their embrace. “It’s been soooooo boring. All I could do was fret and worry, waiting to find out if you were all dying or dead.” Emotion twisted Zori’s face. “I . . . I thought I wouldn’t see him again.”
“Ary kept him alive,” Chaylene said, voice low.
“He better keep doing it.” Zori smiled again. “Now get your rear to your very important meeting so we can have fun tonight!”
*
Ary had no idea what he was doing in this meeting with Admiral Grelen and the captains of the other ships. Becoming an officer still stunned him. He wasn’t the son of a rich merchant, a prosperous landowner, or a powerful politician. He hadn’t purchased his commission and trained at one of the naval academies like the other officers in the room.
All he really wanted to do was read the letters from Gretla that were waiting for him when he’d arrived. After the last two weeks, he was eager to enjoy the playful tone of his sister’s writing.
Beside the Dauntless’s officers and Admiral Grelen, the command staff for both the Gallant and the Adventurous sat around the table. It resided in the bowels of the stone headquarters building. Charts
covered the walls, hiding much of the unrelieved stone. Ary found himself sitting between Chaylene, on his left, and Lieutenant-Captain Rhonel, the tall Adventurous’s first officer. A scar creased across her weathered forehead that gleamed when she furrowed her brow. Admiral Grelen commanded from the head of the darkly polished table, his shaved head pockmarked by boil-like scars, his hands folded before him. His green eyes studied the officers of the Dauntless. Ary fought a squirm, but the Sergeant-Major’s discipline kept his back straight.
“How fares your crew after your ordeal, Captain Dhar?” Grelen asked.
“Very well, Admiral,” she answered. “Morale remains high despite our losses and the plague.”
“And you?”
Her back straightened. “Still able to fulfill my duties.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You have suffered a grievous injury. It normally requires a medical discharge from active service.”
“I feel I can continue in my duties as captain. Being short a leg does not stop me from commanding.”
The admiral took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. Others shifted in the room. Someone coughed down the table. Ary hadn’t considered her injury would leave her unfit for duty. Who will captain the Dauntless?
After a long silence, Admiral Grelen nodded his head. “Given the depletion of your senior officers, I concur. You are waived from the physical requirements for active duty. I shall reassess the situation in a year’s time.”
“Thank you, Thuxon,” Captain Dhar said, her voice tight, almost cracking.
Admiral Grelen cleared his throat and glanced down at a collection of parchment papers before him. He shuffled them for a moment. “So . . . you lost seven battling an unknown pirate ship, and eleven more to the plague. That brings your crew to . . . three-quarters its strength?”
“Yes. Along with one crew member receiving a medical discharge. Given the seriousness of the situation, I would like to invoke Article 12.”
“Granted. Do you have enough marines to manage? Or do you require assistance?”
“Including the adjutant-lieutenant, I have seven marines.”
The admiral’s eyes flicked back to Ary for a moment. Ary kept his head forward, back straight. He would not wilt beneath the man’s gaze.
“Very well. Then let’s hear your report of the pirate ship.”
“After Lieutenant Jayne and her scout reconnoitered the port, I ordered the Dauntless in to raid the town. We arrived near midnight. Eight marines and three Zzuk Auxiliaries were deployed in stealth to fire the docks and deny a potential port for the pirates.” The captain glanced at Chaylene. “Lieutenant Jayne.”
Chaylene swallowed and stood, an errant blonde curl golden on her dark cheek. “I was in the crow’s nest of the mainmast. I ordered Scout Huarm in the foremast’s nest to keep watch on the town while I, at the captain’s instructions, kept an eye on Thugri Sound behind us. I caught a glimpse of a ship approaching on a bearing of roughly 165 degrees, sailing from either Grion Rift or the Great Empty. Through my scope, I observed a corvette of Vaarckthian design crewed by Vionese sailors under guard of Agerzak pirates.”
“You are sure it was a Vaarckthian warship?” Captain Weintz of the Adventurous asked. The Agerzak’s bare cheeks and large lips gave him the resemblance of a fish. He wore his black hair cut short in Vionese fashion. “Have you ever seen one before?”
“No, Captain. But I studied them during training. The pirate ship, while painted unfamiliar colors, had the three-spar foremast and four-spar mainmast along with the more sweeping bow that the Vaarckthian Navy prefers. It was no merchant ship. It was too slim and its ballistae were placed on prebuilt positions.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Captain Dhar said.
Chaylene sat down, her eyes tight.
“Do you have any idea why the pirate ship traveled from Grion Rift or the Great Empty instead of the easier hunting grounds of Thugri Sound?” Admiral Grelen asked.
Captain Dhar shook her head. “No idea. Perhaps the pirates are shifting their area of operation.”
“Unlikely, since two of their ships were spotted in the Thugri Sound in the last week.”
“I’m more concerned with the Vaarckthian warships they’re piloting,” Captain Dharch of the Gallant interjected. He stroked a pointed beard jutting off his chin. “Lieutenant Jayne confirms the rumors that these pirates are being supplied by the Empire. I’ve also heard gustings that the Empire has increased their fleet tempo in the last six months.”
“The Empire is definitely trying to weaken us,” Captain Weintz agreed. “Especially since we’ve lost the Bravado.”
“What?” Captain Dhar asked.
“Captured,” Admiral Grelen growled. A gruesome darkness, enhanced by his scars, covered his face. “The survivors of a whaling ship managed to reach Onhur three days ago. They claimed the pirate ship was an Autonomy frigate and the Bravado is overdue.”
Ary swallowed.
“Where was she lost, Admiral?” Chaylene asked. Everyone glanced at her and she hunched her shoulders. “Sorry if I spoke out of turn, Admiral.”
“It’s a fair question,” the admiral said. “Captain Dheshion planned to inspect Grion Rift. He had the notion the pirates did not operate out of the traditional ports but from somewhere else.”
“Yes, we had spent several months searching the southern Agerzak skylands and found no hint of the pirate bases,” Captain Dharch added. “I thought his plan was foolish. When he was overdue, I assumed they flew too close to the rift and were lost to its winds.”
“That’s why the pirate ship was sailing to Offnrieth!” Chaylene exclaimed, her eyes bright.
“Lieutenant, would you care to elaborate?” Admiral Grelen asked.
“The pirate ship we fought at Offnrieth didn’t deploy raiders to attack us,” she explained. “That’s how the pirates operate, right? They ride on those, um, horses to attack ships.”
Captain Weintz nodded his head.
“So why didn’t they deploy raiders to attack the Dauntless? They merely shelled us.” The same excitement that Ary had observed animating her face during discussions with Estan lit up her features now. “Because they didn’t have any raiders! The Bravado must have stumbled upon the pirate base near the Grion Rift. They fought and captured her, but the pirates didn’t have enough Agerzaks to crew all their ships. Offnrieth is a cesspool of raiders. They came recruiting while their newly-captured and larger ship went to pirate the strait.”
“You just figured this out, Lieutenant?” the admiral asked.
“It’s been bothering me why the pirate ship sailed from Grion Rift and not the Sound. They couldn’t have been returning from pirating, Admiral.”
“I like it,” Captain Dharch said, nodding his approval.
Ary patted his wife’s thigh beneath the table. She flashed him a quick smile. Ary hadn’t even realized there was anything unusual about the ship.
“Well, Lieutenant, what would you do with this information?” Admiral Grelen asked Chaylene.
“Oh, I . . . um, I’m just a junior officer, sir. I think it’s best to leave that up to Captain Dhar and yourself.”
Admiral Grelen arched an eyebrow. “Lieutenant, you’re the second officer. As you’ve seen, bloody fights and sickly seasons can cause an officer to swiftly rise through the command structure. I’m sure you have an opinion. Share it.”
“I would take our entire fleet and scour Grion Rift. Further, I would ignore the tactical restrictions of flying scouts near a skyrift.”
“That is interesting.” Admiral Grelen leaned forward. “Not the attacking in force, because that is what we are doing, but why do you suggest violating Naval doctrine on scout deployment?”
“The Bravado was captured. The pirates must have out maneuvered and ambushed her. Skyrifts are a chaotic mess of drifting skyreefs and skylets. The Bravado would have followed doctrine and kept their scouts on the ship. I doubt the pirates cared. They must have used raiders to scout and coordinate
. We do not know how many ships the pirates have. But to overwhelm a frigate with a trained crew required the pirates to have a few ships and surprise.” Chaylene swallowed. “At least, that’s what occurs to me, Admiral.”
“How long will it take to seat and rig your mast, Captain Dhar?” the admiral asked.
“Two days.”
“Then we sail in three.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Estan’s heart quickened when he entered the Last Port Tavern, heart pounding from his march from the docks through Onhur, his hand clenching Esty’s garter. His stomach writhed and twisted in a way he found both curious and annoying. He ached to see her ivory face framed by her beaded braids, the vibrant hues flashing about her shoulders when she tossed her head. He yearned to continue their conversation. He had so much to discover about Agerzak culture and history.
A boisterous air gripped the tavern. A few of the sailors from the Dauntless had managed to beat Estan here and were already ensconced with flagons of beer. They chatted up the maids plying their services. Estan’s eyes scanned for Esty.
He spotted her perched on the knee of a sailor, her head tossed back in a laugh. Estan’s eagerness died, swallowed up by a foolish heat warming his cheeks. This was a mistake. I should return in the morning when she’s not . . . working.
Estan whirled around and yanked open the rickety door.
“Estan!”
Hearing his name arrested his movement. He turned and found her staring at him, amber eyes wide. Color suffused the ivory of her cheeks. She whispered something to the sailor. He grimaced as she slipped off his lap. With a growl, the sailor burst to his feet and seized her arm before she’d made it two steps.
“Hey!” Esty screamed in shock as he pulled her against him, holding her pinned to his side with his left arm. She spat in his face. “Pig!”
Estan reacted. He pushed past a maid. Lightning crackled along his left hand. His right grasped the pommel of his metal sabre. A hundred different options flashed through his mind; close-quarter combat drilled into his head.
