Pirate's Promise

by Chris A. Jackson

  Whatever it was, it's dead now!

  As Zelegan's skulls ceased their hideous cackling, the chants of Hultey and Lochnal sounded forth clear and true, and once again, Celeste felt her spirits lift. Allies who had quailed under the influence of the laughter returned to the fray in force and fury.

  "Stargazers, rally to me!" Celeste sent another crackling bolt of lightning through the ranks of Zelegan's troops. Quizzik the Pathfinder whooped and threw two more explosive bottles, scattering foes and lighting the night with fire. Astrus's followers arrived to bolster the defensive line, and they surged back against the assailants, forcing them off the platform.

  Zelegan howled in rage and lashed her way to the fore, sweeping her foul blade back and forth without regard. She spat out another spell, and Hultey shrieked in terror. Celeste cringed as the cleric's skin morphed into silvery scales, his arms and legs shrinking to fins. He fell, thrashing at first, then flopping and gasping for breath, transformed into a fish by the vile magic. Lochnal knelt by the stricken man, unable to help as his friend slowly suffocated.

  The only way to help is to kill that vile priestess! With renewed wrath, Celeste cast her lightning again, but once more, the magic harmlessly bypassed Zelegan, although it blasted and charred those behind her.

  Well, if magic won't work, maybe it's time for something up close and personal!

  With a quick strike, Celeste latched her fangs onto Zelegan's leg and flexed the muscles that injected her venom. The priestess shrieked a curse, calling forth an aura of dark energy that swirled around her weapon. Celeste released her grip and tried to dodge the blow, but the blade cut a shallow furrow in her scales. Though the wound was minor, the malevolence of Rovagug surged like acid through her veins. Celeste screamed and writhed in agony, even as Zelegan's dark blade rose again.

  "For Stargazer!" Dukkol barreled right into the priestess, his axe cutting a gash in the skull-clad armor. Zelegan's blade fell, slicing into the dwarf's shoulder and leaving bared bone in its wake. Dukkol went down, and the priestess's voice rose in yet another plea to the Rough Beast.

  Motes of energy shot past Celeste and struck the priestess squarely in the chest, knocking her back and disrupting her dire spell. Astrus seemed finally to be involved in the battle. The agony of her wound eased a trifle, and Celeste coiled and struck again, burying her fangs in Zelegan's other leg. The priestess screamed as Celeste's venom flooded into her. She staggered back, and for the first time, Celeste saw something besides rage in those insane eyes. She saw fear.

  "Forward!" Celeste hissed and coiled for another strike. "Take no prisoners!"

  Dukkol struggled to his feet, one arm hanging bloody and useless, but his voice strong. "Stargazers forward!"

  The combined forces surged as one, and without the impetus of their mad leader driving them on, Zelegan's battered and motley throng quailed. Several broke and ran. The priestess backed farther, but she wasn't yet finished. Thrusting the haft of her axe into the ground, she cried out to her wrathful god. As the allies surged to overwhelm their foes, the very earth beneath their feet began to shake and pitch with the fury of the Rough Beast.

  Celeste's allies stumbled and fell, the momentum of their charge dissolving in a sprawling mass of flailing arms and legs. Celeste, having neither arms nor legs, had no difficulty other than being hampered by the fallen. By the time the ground stopped shaking, Zelegan and her surviving troops had fled into the night.

  Curling around her wound in an attempt to stop the throbbing ache, Celeste called for aid for those worse off. Moans of pain and suffering rose on the air. Lochnal knelt beside a wounded woman and called down Desna's blessings, healing a mortal gash in her side. Others helped the injured settle themselves until care could arrive. Several were beyond aid. One of the Stargazers, a willowy young seaman named Twigs McGrue, who amused Celeste with his bawdy sea chanties, was born away by his mates, wrapped in his blood-sodden cloak.

  Celeste refused a potion from Lacy Jane, insisting that Dukkol be treated first. She would heal, but if he did not receive immediate attention, his arm would never work again. Relief flooded the dwarf's features as his arm healed cleanly.

  "One more, Miss Celeste." Lacy held forth a potion bottle. "Our last, and you look to be the worst off. That's a nasty gash in your back."

  "Thank you." Celeste quaffed the potion and felt the pain of her wounds ebb, though it did not vanish entirely. Zelegan's vile magic had scored her deeply. "And thank you for the warning." She nodded to the conch horn on the pirate's hip. "You've got sharp eyes."

  "I'm just sorry I missed the fight." Jane shrugged, moving off to help her shipmates.

  Some of the others, including Lochnal and his camp followers, were astonished at her true form. Many cast nervous glances and outright stares at her, but she was too tired to care. After a few minutes, several came by with thanks. Quizzik just laughed, and asked if he might have a bit of her venom for an elixir he was working on.

  Finally Astrus approached, trailed by his bodyguards. "I see now why your captain suggested I look after you. Your mad rush into the midst of a howling throng of cultists was the most reckless thing I've ever seen!"

  "A little gratitude for savin' your worthless hide might—"

  "Enough, Dukkol!" Celeste shared the dwarf's sentiment, but calling Astrus a coward in front of his people would do them no good. She'd know better than to expect anything from him next time, but right now, she was simply relieved that they had won. "Astrus obviously isn't used to battle, so his opinion of my tactics means nothing."

  "I meant no disparagement, Celeste." Astrus gave her a courtly bow, seemingly oblivious to her veiled insult. "Please, let my people see to your wounded. Yours have done enough."

  And yours have done nothing. "We'll care for our own, thank you. Stargazers stick together." She nodded to the other wounded and dead. "But there are others who could use your aid."

  "Of course." He looked affronted by her refusal, but she ignored him.

  Celeste turned back to the Stargazers. "Make sure everyone's injuries are tended, and bury Twigs deep. I don't want some desert scavenger digging him up."

  "Aye, ma'am." Dukkol flexed his newly healed shoulder and nodded to their dead enemies. "What about that lot?"

  "Pile them up and burn them."

  The Stargazers followed her orders with murmurs of assent, and Celeste left them to their work. As she gazed over the carnage, she couldn't help but think that she missed Torius very, very much.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  "Now, there's a damn fine sight to see." Grogul grinned as they rounded the corner onto Katapesh's broad stone seawall and Stargazer's raked masts came into view.

  "Aye, that it is, my friend." Torius's heart lifted like a seabird taking wing. His ship shone like a newly minted coin in the light of the afternoon sun. Her brightwork was polished, the rigging was taut and shipshape, and the sails were furled into neat bundles. "Thillion's kept the crew busy. I just hope they're not scattered all over town. I'll be glad to get underway."

  "I'll be glad to get off this demon of a dromedary." Grogul shifted in his saddle and winced. "Besmara bless my aching butt, this saddle is killing me!"

  Torius laughed at the thought of the goddess of pirates blessing his bosun's backside. "I can't argue with that, either."

  The speed of their passage had been nothing short of miraculous. What had taken them a week to traverse with the wagon they'd managed in just three and a half very long days. The camels were exhausted, and the two pirates weren't much better. Torius tapped his camel to kneel, and eased his leg over the high saddle horn. He tied his mount to a piling, then walked stiffly down the dock toward Stargazer.

  A sharp-eyed lookout cried, "It's the captain! Deck watch, call up the mate! Captain Vin and Grogul are back!" By the time they reached the gangplank, Thillion, Snick, and a host of Stargazers were there to greet them.

  "Captain!" Thillion extended a hand, his expression more worried than elated. "What happened?
Where're the rest of the crew?"

  "Still at the Observatory." Torius unwound his head cloth and let the sea breeze ruffle his hair. Though he missed Celeste, he couldn't say that he wouldn't be happy to be back on the water. "No trouble, just a job. I'll explain once we're underway. I trust everyone's aboard and reasonably sober."

  "Too sober by half!" Windy Kate chirped with a grin.

  "All present and sober, sir, though there are a few hangovers." Thillion shot Windy a pointed look. "We're ready for sea, though we're not fully provisioned yet."

  "No worries there. It's just a short jaunt."

  "Heading, sir?"

  "Northeast to Okeno."

  The grumbles from the crew were low enough not to be mutinous, but loud enough for Torius to take note. He understood their concerns. Okeno meant Vreva Jhafae, and their last job from her had nearly sent Stargazer and her crew to the bottom of the Inner Sea.

  "Belay that!" Grogul's tone silenced the crew. "You heard the captain! You've been lazin' around long enough! Make ready for sea! Fenric, see to our baggage, and get rid of those shaggy beasts."

  "Aye, sir! What do you want me to do with 'em?"

  "Cook 'em up for supper for all I care! The rest of you swabs, step lively!"

  "Good to have you back, at least, Captain." Snick's comment earned a growl from the bosun.

  "Good to be back." Torius tousled the gnome's hair and laughed. "Thillion, the deck's yours. I'll be in my cabin scrubbing off the desert and having a decent meal. Get us under way."

  "Aye, sir!"

  By the time Torius was clean, fed, and back on deck, the familiar roll of the sea was already soothing his aches and pains, and the towering black bluffs and gilded domes of Katapesh were far, far astern.

  Chapter Twelve

  Behind the Masks

  The clatter of the morning cooking stirred Celeste from her troubled musing. The stars were fading overhead, and she'd be going to bed soon, but the scents of coffee and frying sausage drew her out of her tent.

  "G'morning, Miss Celeste." Dukkol sat at their campfire stirring a huge skillet of sausage, potatoes, onions, and garlic. Beside him, Lacy Jane stared at the coffee pot as if willing it to brew faster.

  "Good morning." Celeste savored the glorious aromas with a flick of her forked tongue.

  "Find some new stars last night, did ya?"

  "Not as many as I hoped. There's just so much to see!"

  The real problem was, Celeste had been avoiding Astrus since the battle, which cut her observations in half. He'd sent word asking her to join him, but she'd claimed her wounds were bothering her. Really, she'd been trying to reconcile her feelings about the naga. His guidance had benefited her astronomical observations, and he had helped in the battle, but his disdain for others, his reluctance to offer assistance, and his selfishness bothered her. Not to mention his suggestion that she was reckless and needed looking after. She knew he was lying about what Torius had said.

  Even the planets seemed to know of her pending decision. Verces and Castrovel were heading toward a rare alignment, which pointed to a choice. Do I refuse to resume my association with one of my own kind, whom I find to be a self-centered egotist, or swallow my pride and learn as much as I can?

  "And why not?" Dukkol's furry eyebrows joined in a scowl. "That pretentious prig Astrus ain't givin' you trouble, is he?"

  Celeste cocked her head at Dukkol. "You think he's pretentious?"

  "Well, I don't know him personal-like, but with all their ‘His Lordship' this, and ‘His Lordship' that, I'm startin' to feel a keen desire to roll up His Lordship's title and stick it up his arse."

  "Something about his people makes me itch." Lacy Jane fingered the frilly collar of her shirt, though her eyes never left the percolating coffee pot.

  "Aye, they're a twitchy lot, all right." Dukkol gave the skillet a flip. Potatoes and onions hissed in the sausage grease. "But if you're not learnin' much, Miss Celeste, and meanin' no disrespect, then what the hell are we doin' out here?"

  "I'm still learning a lot, Dukkol, just not as much as I might be working with Astrus. He's less ...generous with his expertise than I'd hoped."

  "There's a surprise." Lacy Jane's lips curled into a sideways smile.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean there ain't a generous bone in that man's body, from what his people say." Lacy's eyes flicked from the pot to Celeste and back again. "He keeps 'em on a short leash."

  Celeste knew what kind of leash Astrus used to control his people, and she didn't like it. Maybe if I talked to Astrus about a few things ...She didn't relish such a conversation, but it might be necessary if she was going to make the most of her time here. "Have you seen him this morning?"

  "No, but he and his people always have a little confab about this time every morning." Dukkol nodded to the naga's large black tent. "You might catch 'em all together."

  "You know, that's not a bad idea." Celeste stirred her coils and firmed her resolve. "Save me a cup of coffee, Dukkol, and add some pepper sauce to my portion of the hash. I'll be right back."

  "Careful, Miss Celeste. His Lordship might not like being told he's a pretentious prig to his face."

  "I'll be more subtle than that, Dukkol." Flashing him a smile, she slithered off without delay.

  Astrus's camp seemed quieter than usual, and there weren't any scents or sounds of morning meal preparations. How had she not noticed this odd behavior before? Sleeping after a long night, or turning a blind eye to what is really going on. Suspecting that this "meeting" that Astrus conducted every morning was the distribution of the hallucinogenic and addictive venom-alcohol mixture, she surrendered to her curiosity. Quietly, she slithered up to the back of the tent and listened.

  From within, she heard a beseeching voice. "Please, milord, I appreciate your aid, with my poor master dead and all, but I don't wish no part of this. I'll pay back what I owe you for the healing, but Master Hultey's lock box was broken into, and everything was stolen. It held the gold I was to be paid for this trip."

  What's this? After Master Hultey's unfortunate demise, his people were cast adrift. Celeste assumed that they would split up their master's goods and go their own ways. Instead, it seemed that someone had pilfered Hultey's chest. Celeste knew the thief wasn't a Stargazer. They might be pirates, but they maintained a certain code of honor. Robbing an ally after a battle was unthinkable.

  Fearing the worst, Celeste glanced around. Seeing that she was alone, she whispered a spell and vanished from sight. She rounded the corner of the tent, slithering as silently as possible, careful not to alert the two guards posted at the entrance. Their heads were down, however, their eyes drooping. Apparently the watch hadn't changed yet. Inching forward, she slithered between them, widened the gap in the tent flap with a flick of magic that looked like a rustle of morning breeze, and slipped inside. A tapestry formed a wall between the entry and the tent's lamplit main room. She eased forward to peer around it.

  The man from Hultey's company stood wringing his hands in the center of Astrus's followers. Before him stood Astrus, though Celeste was able to pierce his illusion quickly now, so that he coiled within his illusory human form. Usually his illusion was pretty benign, but today he seemed darker, taller, and more imposing.

  "Help me understand this, friend Eutep." Astrus wagged an illusory finger in the air, as if contemplating a puzzle. "My cleric healed your wounded leg after the battle, since Master Lochnal was already exhausted tending the more grievously wounded. You admit that you have no funds for payment, and when I offer to bring you under my protection and expunge your debt, you refuse?"

  "It's not like that, milord. I'm willing to work off my debt to you, but I want no part of this elixir of yours. I don't know what it'll do to me, and I don't care to find out." A murmur rumbled through the amassed followers. A sheen of nervous sweat dampened Eutep's brow, and his eyes flicked around like a pair of rats looking for an escape.

  "It's a gift, Eutep!" Astrus smil
ed and spread his arms as if to embrace his followers. "The elixir will make you a member of our family, and imbue you with visions of the greatness that you may achieve in my service. If you wish to work for me, you agree to accept this gift. You know that Lochnal and Quizzik have no means to employ you. Your only other option is to take your chances in the desert."

  "I'll take my chances then." Eutep clenched his jaw, his resolve firming despite his fear. "I've got a camel. All I need is some water, and I can—"

  "I'm sorry, Eutep, but without any means to pay for my services, your possessions are forfeit. Your camel now belongs to me, and you can't expect me to provide you with water when you have no payment. If you head into the desert now, you'll die. Take heart. Once you've worked off your debt to me, you'll be free to leave. But until then ..."

  Celeste's gaze was drawn by the movement of Hashi. He carried a silver ewer and small cup. Stopping at each of the followers in turn, he poured a small amount of liquid into the cup and offered it to them. They drank it down eagerly, licking their lips to savor every last drop. Eutep watched them warily and shook his head.

  "I'll ask one of the others for help. You'll excuse me, milord." Eutep turned toward the exit, but Astrus's followers closed in around him. Before the poor man could even cry out in surprise, they had him on his knees, his head pulled back by the hair so that his mouth gaped upward.

  "No! Please!"

  "You're going to take my gift, Eutep. I will not have my generosity flouted!" Astrus nodded to Hashi.

  Those who held Eutep grasped his head and held his nose, and Hashi poured the cloudy liquid into the man's mouth, forcing him to swallow or drown. Eutep coughed and spat, but the procedure continued until the ewer ran empty. Celeste wrinkled her nose as she recognized the smell: a mixture of fruit juice, alcohol, and lunar naga venom, similar to the concoction they'd used to affect the mind of Benrahi Ekhan. Such a huge dose would throw the poor man into a torpor of hallucinatory intoxication, and he would emerge hopelessly addicted to the venom.