Pirate's Promise

by Chris A. Jackson

  Pushing himself up, he fought another bout of dizziness and tested his knee. It hurt, but held his weight. His shackles clanked as he shuffled to the door. The iron gate to his cell was locked, of course, and he supposed the iron-bound door to the brig was as well. In the far corner, rings were set in the overhead beams. Just below stood a bucket full of rusty pliers, blades, and saws.

  "Marvelous."

  Torius sat down, leaned against the bars, and closed his eyes. Long thought yielded one faint glimmer of hope: Stargazer had won free.

  Familiar shipboard sounds soothed his mind: the muffled lap of waves against the hull, the creak of wood, the drip of water in the bilge, the muffled shouts and clatter of sailors plying their trade. He had no idea how many minutes or hours passed before the bang of a door and the rattle of keys disturbed his musing. The door latch clicked, and the portal swung open. A tall, broad-shouldered half-orc entered, and Torius recognized the familiar red leather scabbard at his hip.

  Torius glared at him. "You're wearing my sword."

  "Aye, and a fine weapon it is." The man patted the hilt and grinned at him humorlessly, short tusks reminding Torius of Grogul. "But it's mine now. To the victor go the spoils, Captain Vin. The loser gets nothing, and you've obviously lost. But I brought you some company." He looked over his shoulder. "Bring her in."

  Two sailors dragged a rag-doll form into the brig. Dressed in naught but a ragged burlap shift, it looked to be the most wretched beggar he had ever seen. Torius gaped when they lifted her up straight, and he recognized Vreva. Her arms and legs were smeared with filth, her hair matted with mud and worse. Strangely, the shift was clean, as if it had been put on only after she had been befouled. Dark manacles had chafed her wrists bloody, and her feet left crimson smudges on the deck with every shuffling step. Tears streaked her grimy face, but her eyes were the worst of all. Those once-limpid pools—sultry, intelligent orbs that had seduced him, teased him, taunted, and finally trusted him—stared at nothing, devoid of all comprehension or emotion.

  Vreva Jhafae, the foremost courtesan of Okeno, had been broken.

  "Sorry about the smell," the half-orc said with a hoarse laugh, "but you're probably used to the stench of a spy. Put her in that one." He pointed to the cell next to Torius's.

  "Aye, Captain." A sailor worked a key in the lock, and the others shoved her in. Vreva landed in a boneless heap.

  "Your friend was very ...entertaining, Captain Vin. There hasn't been such a spectacle in the Fleshfairs for many years." The sailors chuckled as they filed out. "I hope the inquisitor left enough for the Pactmasters to have their due, but it really doesn't matter. Your impotent little nest of spies has been rooted out."

  "Believe that if it helps you sleep, Captain, but the Twilight Talons are everywhere." Though Torius didn't feel much of the defiance he was trying for, he saw a glint of doubt in the half-orc's eye.

  "If there are still any secrets remaining in her, or you, the Pactmasters will have them." The ship's captain touched his brow in a mocking salute. "Enjoy your voyage."

  The door closed with a thump, and the lock rattled. Torius sat next to the bars and examined Vreva more closely. No blood darkened the shift and, though there were scrapes and bruises aplenty on her arms and legs, he saw no open wounds. When it came to pain, both slavers and inquisitors were professionals, and they had obviously wanted to keep her alive.

  "Vreva!" He kept his voice low to avoid attracting attention. "Vreva! Wake up! It's Torius!"

  She didn't stir, but her breathing changed from short hesitant gasps to a regular, albeit shallow, cadence.

  "Vreva!" He reached through the bars. She flinched as his fingers brushed her arm, confirming that she was conscious and awake. "Vreva! What happened?"

  "They ...killed Saffron."

  Her voice rasped as if hoarse from long hours of screaming, but her words didn't make much sense. With all that must have happened to her, the death of a pet didn't seem significant. Torius wondered if her wits had fled. He'd seen it before. Then he remembered the cat hopping down to trot to the door, then meowing, telling Vreva that the inquisitor stood on the other side. Saffron must have been her familiar. The bond between wizard and familiar was said to be more akin to that of mother and child than one of owner to pet. Gozreh's guts, no wonder she's in such a state. Still, if he was to come up with a plan, he had to know how badly she was hurt.

  "I'm sorry about Saffron, Vreva, but I need to know what happened to you. Did the inquisitor ..." He didn't know how to ask how brutally she'd been tortured.

  "I ...don't remember. Zarina was ...very angry. She ..." Vreva tried to take a deeper breath, but coughed as if it pained her. "She was in love with me. She ...didn't take the truth well."

  "Hell hath no wrath ..."

  "I'm sorry, Torius." Slowly, every move an obvious trial of pain, Vreva rolled over until she faced him. He saw the brand on her forehead and winced. She blinked, and more tears flowed, but her eyes showed a glimmer of sanity. "I'm sorry I got you into this."

  "It was my choice, Vreva, and I guess it was my blood that betrayed us." He tried to smile, just enough to give her a modicum of comfort, and failed. "Grogul's dead."

  "Oh, Torius." She closed her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

  "Not your fault. He ...he tried to save my life. Just like him to do something like that." Torius recalled the first time he'd seen Grogul, and smiled at the memory of the half-orc's indomitable love of fighting. "He died as he would have wished, with a sword in his hand."

  They lapsed into silence, and Torius shifted his attention to the sounds filtering down from above. The sharp calls from bosun to crew, the creak and groan of lines and blocks, and the knock of poles against the hull as the ship was worked off the dock, then the slow, steady cadence of oars.

  A galley, then. It figures.

  He felt the ship heel as sails filled, and the increased roll as they passed into the open sea. The ship settled into the corkscrew motion of a following sea, heeling to starboard as they sailed on a port tack. They were headed southwest. He glanced at Vreva to find her eyes regarding him.

  "You know where they're taking us, don't you?" Her voice still rasped, dry and raw, but it sounded stronger.

  "Katapesh, I think."

  "The Pactmasters." Her eyes hardened, and her lips pressed into a thin line. "I ...need to ask you for one more favor, Torius."

  "A favor?" He barked a short, humorless laugh. "I'm afraid I'm not in a position to grant much in the way of favors, but I'll do what I can."

  "I need you to kill me." She said it as calmly as if she had asked him to pour a glass of wine. There was no fear, just a simple request. When he didn't answer, she continued. "I can't let the Pactmasters interrogate me. I know too much." She edged closer, her face now inches from the bars. Pulling back her matted hair, she bared her throat to him. "Use your manacles. Send me to Calistria. Please."

  Torius considered her. It wouldn't be difficult to fulfill her request. He had joined the Twilight Talons because he abhorred slavery. If the Pactmasters got hold of the information in Vreva's head, what damage could they do to Andoran and the abolitionists? Torius didn't know enough to be a concern, but Vreva ...Reaching through the bars, he ran his fingers up her long neck, felt her tense, then gently brushed the tears from her grimy cheeks.

  "No."

  "Please, Torius. I can't let them take me."

  "No, Vreva, I won't kill you, and I'll tell you why." He leaned down until their faces were only separated by the width of the bars and gazed into her eyes, determined to share with her his one shred of hope. "Stargazer won free! They're on their way to Katapesh. Celeste is waiting for me there. When she hears what happened, they'll come for us."

  "Torius, we're aboard the Bloody Scourge." She gripped his hands with surprising strength, her eyes pleading. "Have you seen this ship? It's enormous. And Captain Nekhtal is an experienced commander. No disrespect to your ship or crew, but there's no way they can rescue us!"


  Her skepticism brought a grin to his lips, and he pulled her so close their noses touched. "You don't know Celeste. She'll come for us." He had to believe it. It was the only thing keeping him from sinking into a pit of despair. "I've been in worse situations, Vreva."

  "Promise me, Torius." She clutched him, and he could feel the tremors of pain, exhaustion, and desperation wracking her. "If they don't come, promise me you won't let the Pactmasters take me alive. Promise me that you'll send me to Calistria."

  "I promise." Torius held her, willing himself to feel some of the hope he was trying to instill in her. "But they'll come. I know they'll come, and even the wrath of Zarina Capoli is no match for Celeste when her temper is up. Trust me on that."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Spitting Mad

  The first hysterical knock at the door snapped Celeste out of her stellar musing. The eastern sky glowed with approaching dawn, the stars fading, so the interruption didn't disturb her observations, but such a frantic rap at this hour never boded well. She had asked the harbormaster to send word when Stargazer arrived, but it was far too early for a messenger.

  Unless the message is dire. Celeste cast her illusion as she slithered across the room. The knock sounded again, even louder this time, and a few Stargazers stirred from their slumber.

  "What the devil?" Dukkol rolled out of his hammock, slung sailor-fashion between two ornate pillars, and hitched up his britches.

  "I'll get it, Dukkol, but stand ready." Celeste used magic to work the latch, but the portal barely opened before a breathless gnome tumbled through. "Snick! What—"

  "Trouble!" She turned and slammed the door, breathing hard. "They took Torius! They killed Grogul and knocked the captain on the head!"

  Panic surged up from Celeste's gut and threatened to escape her throat in a wail of anguish. Her illusion failed. "Who? Who took him?"

  The others were up now, sleep banished. Eyes wide, they crowded around the gnome.

  "The Okeno guard!"

  Celeste's panic surged up again, quickly morphing to rage. Vreva Jhafae had to be at the bottom of this. Did she get him wrapped up in some scheme? Celeste hissed and coiled, then forced calm. Speculation was a waste of time. She needed facts.

  "Tell me exactly what happened, Sssnick, and tell it from the beginning."

  Snick rattled off the story of their trip to Okeno and Vreva's offer of a position as a privateer for Andoran, then their meeting with Gold Wing, the ship's disastrous demise, and the taking of the slaver galley. By the time she related their trip to Almas and the letter of marque, Celeste's head was spinning.

  "A letter of marque?" Torius signing on to raid slavers didn't surprise her—he hated slavery with a passion—but something didn't fit. "What does Vreva have to do with privateers and Gray Corsairs?"

  "She's ...kinda working for Andoran." Snick cast a glance toward the crew, and pursed her lips. "Torius agreed to bring her a few things from Almas and ...take some stuff back every once in a while. It's complicated, but he was being paid well for it." She withdrew a leather pouch from her shirt and dumped the contents into the palm of her hand. Blue fire glittered in the morning light, a small fortune in dazzling sapphires. "This was his first payment. But something must have gone wrong. That damned inquisitor and her troops met Grogul and the captain on their way back to the ship."

  "Inquisitor? What inquisitor?" Snick was leaving out important details.

  "Well, okay, I left that part out, but it's all the same. The inquisitor's workin' for the Pactmasters, who are supporting the slavers against Andoran. Torius told us that much. She's the one who knocked the captain on the head." Snick cursed and stomped her foot. "Would'a put a ballista bolt through her myself, but she picked him up and held him like a shield. I couldn't ...not without killing Torius. And Grogul ...He tried to ...But they cut him down."

  The Stargazers growled oaths and obscenities with ever-increasing vehemence.

  "We couldn't stay! They would'a taken the whole ship!" The gnome choked up, and tears welled in her eyes.

  Celeste had never seen her so miserable, but guilt and regret wouldn't help them. They had to get Torius back. "Where's Thillion? What's being done?"

  "Aboard Stargazer. We don't know what to do." Snick bit her lip and squared her shoulders. "Don't even know if the captain's still alive. Thillion said we need information." She held out the handful of glittering gems. "Thought maybe you could use magic to find Torius. Said to buy whatever you need with this."

  "Yesss ..." Celeste's mind leapt ahead. She felt sure they could formulate a workable plan, but they had to hurry. They had to find out where they'd taken Torius. "Yes! Snick, you come with me. Eutep, you too. Dukkol, arrange for a carriage. A fast carriage! Make that two! Lacy, pay the innkeeper. I want everyone and everything back aboard Stargazer, double time!"

  The pirates scattered like leaves in a hurricane, sweeping through the suite like they were clearing the deck for action. Celeste barely remembered to cast her illusion again before rushing out of the inn to board the carriage.

  "Snick, you sit inside with me. I have questions for you. Eutep, sit up with the driver. Have her take us to Kifalla's Mystical Emporium on the Avenue of Stars." Celeste knew she could buy whatever she needed there. She'd spent hours perusing the vast array of magical merchandise while purchasing the dream scroll. As the carriage lurched into motion, she leaned out the window and shouted up to the driver. "Don't spare the whip!"

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  "Careful with that!" Snick's shrill command cut through the chatter on deck, and stopped the two sailors carrying a heavy wicker-wrapped jug. They looked at the little engineer with expressions like kids with their hands in a cookie jar. "Rig a harness and tackle to lower that!"

  "But Snick, it don't weigh more'n—"

  "Are you deaf as well as stupid?" The gnome strode up to the two pirates, each easily four times her weight, and glared hard enough to quash any excuse. "Rig a harness and tackle! You drop that, and all the demons of the Abyss won't save your asses from what's inside! And stow it like I told you!"

  "Aye, Snick." The sailors paled, gingerly placed the jar on the deck, and called for a rigger.

  "What's in that?" Celeste crossed the gangplank with Eutep, both of them laden with packages.

  Snick joined them, her temper vanished. "Oh, just a little surprise in case we have to—"

  "Miss Celeste!"

  Celeste lifted her eyes to the mizzenmast. Thillion perched precariously at the trestletrees, supervising two of the topmen. The tall elf reached out to grasp a shroud and slid down, his descent barely slower than a free fall.

  "Snick told you what happened?" Thillion glanced at Eutep as he took her packages, but Celeste didn't have time for introductions, though she saw some other new faces about the deck.

  "Yes." She opened the door to the sterncastle with a flick of magic—it was easier than using her hands—and preceded them into the cool confines of the ship. "Are we ready to sail?"

  "Soon. I have the crew preparing to get underway, and rigging for battle, if it comes to that." They passed the galley, and the smell of lentil stew and bread knotted Celeste's stomach. She realized she hadn't eaten yet today. "We don't have a plan yet, but I want Stargazer ready."

  "Good." At the door to her cabin, Celeste flipped the latch and entered. The familiar surroundings, the sight of her lover's clothing and gear, his scent, all struck her at once, and she stopped. Torius ...

  "Miss Celeste? Are you all right?" The elf's fingers hesitantly brushed her shoulder.

  "Yes. Yes, I'm fine." She shook off the feeling of dread and banished her transformation spell, slithering out of her restricting cloak. She was more comfortable in her natural form, and she needed all her faculties if she was going to pull this off. "I bought everything I need to try to find Torius, but I'm not familiar with these spells, and I may require help. Eutep, please put those packages on the chart table, then go find Dukkol. He'll show you what to do."

&n
bsp; "Yes, ma'am." Eutep deposited the packages and hastened out the door.

  As he left, Celeste realized that she'd had so much on her mind, she'd never asked him if he wanted to stay with her. Then again, he hadn't asked to leave, either.

  Snick closed and locked the door. "Before you start, we should probably fill you in on a couple more details." She glanced at Thillion, and the first mate nodded. "We know why they snatched the captain."

  Celeste glanced from the gnome to the elf, then back again. "Why?"

  "Vreva's a Twilight Talon."

  "A what?"

  "A spy," Thillion explained. "She's a spy for the Andoren abolitionists, and she recruited the captain to be her intermediary. The Pactmasters contracted an inquisitor to root out the spy network in Okeno, and she obviously discovered the captain's involvement. She was waiting at the dock for him when he and Grogul returned from making the first delivery to Miss Jhafae."

  "May all the gods damn that woman to Hell!" Celeste writhed in rage, her tail slapping the leg of the chart table hard enough to rattle the contents of their packages. "I knew she was behind this. She probably betrayed Torius to save her own skin!"

  "We don't know what happened, Miss Celeste." Thillion gestured toward her packages. "But if we can discover where they've taken the captain, perhaps we'll learn that, too."

  The elf's pragmatic reminder stifled Celeste's anger. They didn't know enough to blame the courtesan yet, but if that woman had sacrificed Torius to evade the inquisitor, Celeste would give her a whole new reason to fear for her life. "You're right. I must calm myself and concentrate. These spells are tricky, and I've never cast them before."

  "Just tell us what you need."

  "All right. Snick, please stand the mirror on the chart table. Thillion, bring me a hair from Torius's pillow or comb. I'll be casting the spells from scrolls. Once I've started, I don't dare cast my usual spell to manipulate the next scroll, so I'll need one of you to unroll them for me to read."

  In moments they were ready. Tendrils of pungent smoke wafted up from a wedge of incense burning in front of the mirror. Celeste breathed deep to settle herself—This must work!—then carefully dropped the strand of Torius's hair onto the burning mote. It curled in the heat, and added its own acrid scent. Thillion held the requisite scroll unrolled for her. Celeste brought to mind the man she loved and read the arcane words on the parchment.