Scimitar Moon

by Chris A. Jackson

  “It ain’t my city, lass, and it ain’t as fair as all that.” He pulled a heavy ledger from under the desk and opened it. “Please sign, and if ye’d be so kind as to include the name o’ the ship ye sailed on, I’d appreciate it.”

  Cynthia signed. “Can you accommodate us immediately for dinner, or must we wait?”

  “And risk havin’ you faint dead away right in my front hall?” He flipped the book closed and lurched around the desk. “This way!”

  Tables full of diners crowded the huge common room, but the three were seated with no trouble. Cynthia listened patiently to the harried waitress, ordered the pheasant pie and asked if they could get a round of ale and a plate of fruit and cheeses while awaiting dinner. The others ordered, and their waitress came back with their drinks and the cheese plate before Cynthia’s stomach could growl three times.

  “Mmm, food,” she said around a mouthful of creamy white cheese and papaya. “What a marvelous creation.”

  Mouse fluttered down to the table and broke off a corner of a crumbly red cheese as he eyed the crowd. He hefted the cheese knife experimentally, decided it was not balanced for throwing and settled down to munch. Cynthia sampled combinations of sharp, mild and spicy cheeses with the assorted fruits, delighted with each. The men nibbled at a less lupine pace and talked of the city and how things had changed in the two decades since Koybur had been here.

  “O’course, it was the old emperor back then. Not the same city at all, by the feel of it. Wonder who finally put a dagger in the old bastard’s back.”

  “It was poison, from what I heard,” Brelak said, sipping his ale and letting his eyes drift to a comely serving girl. He jerked his gaze back to his ale and glanced sidelong at Cynthia.

  “Whoever did the deed, I’d like to shake his hand. We’re all the better for it.” Koybur grinned and jogged his elbow, but their mistress didn’t notice the exchange.

  “Aye.” Brelak drank deeply and sighed. “Emperor Tynean’s twice as powerful and three times as rich, not to mention havin’ the common folk on his side, and we have some poor sap with a vial of poison to thank for it.”

  “And nobody’s done a thing about the piracy in the Shattered Isles, because it’s not a kingdom or nation or empire doing the burning, killing and pillaging.” Cynthia drank some ale and shook her head.

  “It’s a harder war to fight,” Koybur said, spearing a slice of mango and biting off half. “Just like the roads through the mountain passes and the brigands and ogres. You can’t fight what you can’t find.”

  “Come on, Koybur, how hard would it be to sail that monstrosity of a warship up and down the Shattered Isles until you found the one Bloodwind is using for a stronghold?”

  “Not that easy, Cyn. That ship can beat any corsair, or even half a dozen, in a stand up fight. But how do you find their stronghold without explorin’ every cove and inlet? That means riskin’ runnin’ up on a reef, or comin’ across one of them tribes of head-huntin’ savages, or even a school of merfolk. On top of that, Bloodwind’d probably smoke out the plan a month before the Clairissa shipped anchor.”

  “He’s got spies in every harbor, sure enough,” Brelak agreed, the muscles of his jaw bunching and relaxing rhythmically.

  “Well, there’s not much we can do about it tonight,” Cynthia relented with a sigh. “So, how do we get the attention of every out-of-work captain, bosun and sailor in Tsing? You going out tonight, Koybur?”

  “I might if Master Brelak wants to come along, but only to have a drink and maybe a bit of fun. You’ll want to draft a note for the poster boards to bring in sailors. We can draft one tonight, and have it up by mid-morning tomorrow.”

  “I’ll go out with you tonight if you wish,” the Morrgrey said with a grin. “Been a while since I had a night in Tsing with money in my pocket.”

  “You afraid to go out alone, Koybur?”

  “Here? Damn right, I am. Any sane man would be, and any woman would be plain foolish to go out alone.” He affixed his one good eye on her and scowled. “You remember that, Cyn. Tsing might have a truly benevolent and kind emperor, but the city is still about as safe as a chatter viper.”

  “Fine. I’ll stay locked in my room every night,” she said with a pout, only half joking; it would take her a couple of days to build her strength back to the point where she could enjoy an evening of drinking and carousing.

  Conversation halted as their dinners arrived, three plates mounded with meats, vegetables, potatoes, yams, sauces, gravies, jellies and a pheasant pie the size of an entire dinner plate. The waitress almost placed one of the plates on top of Mouse, and was startled as badly as the sprite. She’d never seen a seasprite before and made a big fuss over him, earning a glare for calling him cute, but making up for it by promising to bring him a special treat from the kitchen.

  *

  The door of the tiny flat opened without a knock and Vash stepped inside.

  “They’re here,” he said, grinning at his companions. Wopek sat on a ragged divan, bouncing the little girl Nan on his knee, his huge hands encircling her tiny torso completely. The girl laughed at her “ Unca Opek” and urged him to bounce faster. Berl just looked disgusted. “They’re stayin’ at the Red Gryphon. The Morrgrey hangs on the Flaxal wench like he’s her damn bodyguard ’er somethin’.”

  “Well, our li’l helper will just have to distract him, won’t she? The story we cooked up will pull him out in the open.” Berl nodded toward the small kitchen where a pot of stew bubbled on the stove. “Eat. I’m goin’ out to let Karek know what’s hap’nin’.”

  “He still thinkin’ to hire on?” Vash asked, moving to the pot and sniffing. He grabbed the large wooden spoon and shoveled a huge bite into his mouth, nodding approval.

  “Yeah. If he gets a bosun’s billet before we do the job, he might just make mate.”

  “Not likely,” Wopek said, settling the little girl down for a moment. “They won’t hire him for mate. He has no reputation. Bosun, maybe, but not mate.”

  “Tell him that. I’m here to kill a Morrgrey, not play sailor, nor play with little brats. I’ll be back before midnight if I can find Karek.”

  “Shouldn’t be hard,” Vash said, showing a gap-toothed grin around a mouthful of stew. “Just sniff real hard. Even in Tsing, you should be able to find a pile o’ crap that big.”

  They all laughed, including little Nan, for she had come to like the men who stayed with them. The big dark man she called Unca Opek played with her, so when he laughed, she laughed, which just made them all laugh harder.

  CHAPTER Eighteen

  Consequences

  The posters worked better than Cynthia had hoped; the common room was packed with shore-bound sailors by mid-afternoon. The only problems were keeping them sober and keeping the peace, both of which Brelak managed simply by his presence. Since there were only six crew positions, only a few hours passed before the Morrgrey entered the common room to inform the rest that they were out of luck. He had four burly constables flanking him, each bearing a sword and a heavy cudgel. The crowd dispersed with some grumbling, but no threat of violence.

  “Thank you, gentlemen,” Brelak said with a smile, passing a few coins among the constables. “Always a pleasure workin’ with His Majesty’s armed representatives.”

  “Just keep the peace, Brelak,” one of them said with a dour face.

  “Such was my only intent, Constable.” The caps left without a gesture of thanks or even acknowledgment. When the inn door closed behind them, Brelak said, “Bloody land pirates.”

  “Oh now, just because you’ve been their guest at your own expense, there ain’t no need to hold a grudge.” Koybur chucked him on the shoulder hard enough to stagger a lesser man.

  “You have four of ’em pound on you with their sticks an’ see if you don’t hold a grudge,” he growled.

  “Only four?” Cynthia asked as she entered the room. Mouse lounged lazily on her shoulder, half asleep and obviously bored with the long day of n
othing but talk. “What foul deed did you perpetrate to earn a night as their guest?” She joined the others at a table and motioned for the barmaid to bring a round of drinks.

  “That was back when I was young and rowdy, Miss Cynthia. You can’t judge a man by what he’s done as a lad.”

  “The way I heard it, it wasn’t so long ago,” Koybur said, fishing his pipe from his pouch. “In fact, wasn’t it just two years ago?”

  “Three years. I’d just made first mate of the Peerless. And it weren’t my fault. Someone set me up; tried to make me look bad by gettin’ me drunk and payin’ some lout to start a fight.”

  “Which you finished, I presume,” Cynthia said, interested in the story.

  “Well, I tried to, but a bunch of caps showed up right miraculous like and started poundin’ on me. I woke up in the lockup the next mornin’ with a head like a garbage scow on a reef. Called it disorderly conduct.”

  “The way I heard it, you put two caps in the infirmary before they put you down.” Koybur puffed his pipe and blew a perfect smoke ring at the big man. Mouse giggled and swooped up and through the ring.

  “Aye, and they called that resistin’ arrest, when they was the ones who started beatin’ on me.” He shook his head ruefully, and the table lapsed into silence for a while.

  “We did well today,” Cynthia said finally, stretching her legs and twisting her neck to ease the tension. “I must have talked to three dozen people, and I hired six sailors and one cook. That leaves a bosun, a mate and two captains. I talked to three applying for boatswain, and two for mate. One of ’em, a woman named Kali Drin, worked the Blakely Boy, and probably knows the four we hired in Rockport. They’ll all be back tomorrow. No takers for the captain’s billets yet.”

  “We won’t see no captains ’til tomorrow. They won’t be so eager as the rest.”

  Cynthia looked at Koybur skeptically. “Why is that?”

  “Lots of fish in the sea when it comes to able seamen, and even mates, and they know it’ll be first come, first hired. A captain’ll know you’ll interview several and hire the best.”

  “Sounds reasonable, but I—”

  “Feldrin?” a feminine voice said from behind Cynthia. “Feldrin Brelak?”

  They all turned to the young woman standing a table-length away, wringing a kerchief in her hands and looking like she’d seen a ghost. She was pretty, or would have been if she weren’t terrified. Her dress was that of a woman who worked in an inn, low in front with a tightly laced bodice of decent material, but hardly luxurious.

  “Yes, I’m Feldrin Brelak. Can I help ya, Miss?”

  “You… You don’t remember.” It was a statement, not a question; a matter of fact, expected, but obviously painful for her to say. “You don’t remember me.”

  The table was as silent as a graveyard; only Mouse ventured a whistle and a little giggle at the Morrgrey’s sudden discomfort.

  “I… Uh…” Brelak stammered and squinted at her. “My pardon, Miss, but I don’t. We’ve met?”

  “We’ve more than just met,” she said with a wry smile. “If you don’t remember… Well, I can’t say as I’m really surprised. It was several years ago, and there was quite a celebration going on at the time.” She shrugged and shuffled her feet, obviously uncomfortable with everyone staring at her.

  Koybur kicked Brelak under the table and said, “Please, have a seat, Miss—”

  “Marci. Thank you, but I don’t want to interrupt your dinners.” The girl was well spoken, obviously the product of an upper-class family. “I just heard from some sailors that Feldrin Brelak was in town, and thought I would pay my respects and, uh…” She faltered, looking scared again, then forged ahead. “And ask if you would like to meet your daughter.”

  “Daughter?” Three of them said in unison. Mouse let out a high-pitched peep of query.

  “Her name is Nan, short for Nanci. She’s almost two and a half.”

  “Well, I… I…” Brelak sat dumbfounded by the claim.

  Cynthia’s eyes narrowed. Something didn’t seem quite right. The woman’s eyes avoided Feldrin’s face when she spoke, staring alternately at the floor and some distant point above his head. That could have been simple discomfort with confronting the long-lost father of her child, but it didn’t seem right; almost as if her manner verged upon flirtatious instead of confrontational.

  Or, Cynthia thought, I’m skeptical because I don’t want to lose a good first mate. She trusted Brelak, which made him more than just a valuable officer. Cynthia spoke up.

  “Miss, surely you can’t expect Master Brelak to assume any role as the child’s father. Even if your claim could be verified, which is impossible, it’s been more than two years.”

  “Almost three years,” Marci agreed, her jaw clenched and her tone unapologetic. “And I don’t expect anything. I’m not asking for anything, and I don’t want anything except for my daughter to know the man who fathered her.”

  “Then why didn’t you bring your daughter with you?” Cynthia asked, her doubt undiminished.

  “Then it really would have looked like I was asking for a handout, wouldn’t it?”

  “I don’t see the point to making the claim if you—”

  “Please, Mistress Cynthia, let me handle this.” Brelak stood, recovering some of his poise. “I’d sit with you and share a meal, if you’d join me, Marci. I’d like to hear more before I meet yer daughter.”

  “You… You’ll see her?”

  “Aye, I will. But I’d like to talk a bit before. And no disrespect, Mistress Cynthia, but I’d like to talk alone.” He grinned lopsidedly, shrugging his massive shoulders. “I’ve got a good number of gaps in my memory, it seems, and I’d like to have ’em filled in proper. Excuse us.”

  He offered his arm to the woman and ushered her to a smaller table some distance away. Mouse took to the air to follow, but Cynthia snatched him by a leg and told him to stay put. He sat on the table and pouted. She and Koybur watched, trying not to look nosy as the couple sat and talked. After a short while, Brelak called a waitress and ordered a meal.

  “He’s making a mistake,” Cynthia said as their meals arrived.

  “How do you figger?” Koybur asked, spearing a wedge of stewed yam and popping it into his mouth.

  “She’s after something, even though she won’t admit it.”

  “Maybe, but you have to let him take care of it.” Koybur shrugged and tucked into his dinner, smiling between bites. “He’s a grown man, and able to handle himself. If she’s trying to get something out of him, he’ll smoke her out.”

  “I guess I’m just trying to protect him. He just seems so—”

  “You see him as a big strong man without much guile,” Koybur suggested around another mouthful. “That’s what he wants people to think. He’s a good bit sharper than the average sailor, Cyn, or he wouldn’t ever have made first mate.”

  “In matters of seamanship, I don’t doubt it, but in, uh… social situations, I think he might be less sharp than you think.” She glanced pointedly over her shoulder where Brelak listened avidly to the woman’s story. “She’s already gotten a meal out of him.”

  “Oh, come on, Cyn. The girl’s not out for a free dinner. She’s got more class than that!” Koybur speared another yam and shook it at her. “You’re way too cynical fer one so young. Let the man dig himself out of this. If he really did get her with child, he should at least own up to it.”

  “And if she’s setting him up?”

  “Then he’s got the job of smokin’ out the scam and bustin’ it up. She’d be a fool to try it, though. It’s nothin’ new, and the penalty for such scams is steep here.”

  They sat in silence as the couple ate and talked. Finally, when Marci got up to leave, Brelak offered her a few coins. She started to decline, but he remained insistent. When she had gone, he returned to the table.

  “Well, that was interestin’,” he said, sitting down and waving to the barmaid. “I think I need an ale, Mistress. I’v
e had a trauma and it needs soothin’.”

  They all chuckled.

  “Isn’t that what got you into this in the first place?” Cynthia asked.

  “Well, I don’t rightly know, since I still have no proper recollection of the lass. It might have been the same night we were talkin’ about earlier, or the night before. The drink might have to take second prize to the beatin’ I took. I was celebratin’ plenty, to be sure, and when I woke up in the lockup I didn’t remember half of the last two days.”

  “You remembered the fight well enough.”

  “Only because me mates told me all about it later.” He took a deep draft of ale and sighed, shaking his head in regret. “None of ’em ever mentioned a girl to me.”

  “That’s no surprise,” Koybur said with a laugh.

  “Why not?”

  “Sailors were celebratin’, Cyn. Would it be unusual if there were a few girls helpin’ ’em with their merriment?” Koybur chuckled, obviously remembering his own youth. “It’d be like telling you there was sand at the beach.”

  “Or that we might have drunk a bit o’ rum!” Feldrin agreed.

  “Or that there may have been some singin’.”

  “All right, all right,” Cynthia said, acceding to the fact that she might not be as wise in this area as she thought. “Just have a care, Master Brelak. I don’t want to lose you to a claim of paternity.”

  “Aye, Mistress. Nor do I want to be a full-time daddy, though I am rather lookin’ forward to meetin’ the li’l lass.”

  “You’re going to meet the girl? When?”

  “Tomorrow night after her shift. She works as a barmaid down at the Hairy Parrot. I’m going to walk her home and meet Nan.”

  “Then walk back alone?”

  “Well, I hadn’t thought about that, but you’re probably right. I’ll take someone along fer company.”

  “Good,” Cynthia said, waving the waitress over to order dessert. “I wouldn’t want you to wake up with no memory again, and married this time.” Mouse cackled in mirth and orbited Brelak’s head, miming faces of love-struck bliss and swooning while whistling wedding marches.