by Ben Cassidy
“The Blood Fang tribe still honors all the Seteru,” the second chieftain said smoothly. “Give me the word, priestess, and I shall kill this man for you and the goddess.”
Bronwyn turned to look at the man. As tempted as she was to take him up on his offer, she knew that he had no real desire to serve Indigoru or any of the other Seteru. This was a matter of tribal hatred and ongoing blood feuds, nothing more. And she could not afford for there to be more bloodshed in the camp.
The Great Fang needed to act, and soon. Or else the entire Jombard “army” would collapse.
“Stay your hand,” Bronwyn hissed at the Blood Fang chieftain. “Do you think that Indigoru is unable to defend herself?”
“One might then ask, witch, why she did not do so at Vorten?” A new voice, deep and sonorous, came from behind Bronwyn.
She whirled, startled.
The Great Fang moved towards her. He exuded the strength and power of a bear, but stepped with the lightness and smoothness of a leopard. Behind him were Odgar and several other chieftains. All were wearing their war paint and were armed.
“There has been another skirmish,” said Bronwyn. She raised her head, trying her best not to show her surprise at the Fang’s unexpected appearance. “The tribes are restless, Great Fang. If we do not—”
“Peace, witch,” the Fang rumbled. “At last I have heard from Harnathu the wolf-god. It is time to gather the tribes to march for war.” He looked up at the chieftains and warriors who were crowding all around. “It is time for Redemption to burn. Time for the Demonbane to die.”
Chapter 8
Kara came wide awake at the shock of the cold, salty water in her face.
She sat up, coughing and sputtering. Her head, hair, and shoulders were absolutely soaked.
A pirate threw down a wooden bucket with a roaring laugh. “That did it, boys! The lady’s back with us.”
There was a series of shouts and catcalls.
Kara scrambled to her feet. She reached instinctively at her belt for her dagger.
Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t there.
The pirate, a tall man with a crooked nose and salt-and-pepper colored hair, pushed the tip of a sharp cutlass right under Kara’s chin. “I wouldn’t do anything fool-like if I was you, doll.” He gave a leering smile. “It’d be a shame to cut that pretty face of yours.”
“Stand still, Kara,” came Maklavir’s voice to her left. He spoke in a low whisper. “Don’t do anything rash.”
Kara glanced to her left.
Maklavir was there, along with the merchant ship captain and the crew. They were lined against the far railing of the merchant ship. Most looked relatively unharmed, save for the merchant captain himself. He was pressing his rolled-up jacket to a bleeding cut in his stomach, wincing and giving Maklavir fearful and hated glances.
Kara looked to her right.
Joseph was there too. He was unarmed and partially slouched over the railing of the ship. His face was still a sickly green, and Kara could see that he was barely standing.
Another pirate came up to the one with the broken nose. “Boys are pokin’ around the hold, Petranus. Ain’t found nothing much of value, just some china dishes and boots.”
Petranus gave a nod, looking over the line of prisoners with a triumphant air. “There’s always gold somewhere on a ship like this. We’ll tear it apart until we find it.”
The pirates gave a roaring cheer.
Kara began to shiver in the brisk ocean breeze. Her head was pounding, and she could feel dried blood in her hair. She glanced over at Maklavir. “Why is it that I’m always the one getting conked on the head?” she whispered.
“It was the captain,” said Maklavir coldly. He threw a glance at the merchant captain, who quickly looked away.
That took Kara by surprise. “The captain?” she said. “But why—?”
“He was afraid that your courageous action would incur the wrath of the pirates on him and his crew,” Maklavir said, the contempt clear in his voice.
Kara looked at the captain’s stab wound again. “Then how--?”
Maklavir gave an embarrassed shrug. “Well, I’m afraid that I rather stabbed the little imp after he clocked you.” He wrinkled his nose. “Purely reflex, you understand. But he deserved it.”
“You two,” Petranus said, “shut up or you can taste a bit of my steel.”
Maklavir and Kara both shut their mouths and leaned back against the railing.
“Well, well,” came a sudden, unfamiliar voice. “This is a surprise.”
The pirates parted, and a woman strode through their midst. She was dark-skinned, like a Spice Landers, but her accent was strongly Baderan. Long, russet hair fell down from underneath a cocked black tricorn that she wore on her head. She was dressed like a man, with black trousers and a lacy white shirt that revealed quite a bit of cleavage. Over the shirt she wore a black naval jacket trimmed in gold. On her feet were black boots that shone with golden buckles. The belt that circled her slim waist held a long rapier and a dagger. At least one wheelock pistol was tucked into the sash as well.
The woman stepped up to Kara, and examined the redheaded girl carefully. “And what is your name, love?”
Kara bristled. “Why don’t you tell me yours first?” Her head was still pounding and her hair dripped seawater onto the green cloak that covered her shoulders.
The woman smiled. “Well. You have a sharp tongue on you, don’t you?” She looked around at the men behind her. “A tongue to match her skill with the bow, eh boys?”
There was a disgruntled, angry murmur from the crowd of buccaneers.
The pirate woman turned back to Kara. “Haven’t made many friends, I see.” She spread her hands wide and gave an egregious bow. “As for myself, I am Sadira, the pirate queen of the Golden Waters and beyond.” She waved her hand towards Kara. “And you?”
Kara stiffened, staring at the hostile faces of the pirates. “Kara,” she mumbled.
“Kara,” said Sadira with a beaming face. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”
“What are you going to do with us?” Maklavir asked quietly.
Sadira turned her attention to the diplomat. “With a handsome man like you?” She stepped close to Maklavir and walked one of her fingers up the center of his chest. “Perhaps I’ll keep you for myself.” She leaned in close, a mischievous winkle in her eyes. “Would you like that?”
“Please,” the merchant captain begged, his face pale with fear, “we’ll give you whatever you want. Just spare our lives—”
Sadira tossed a hand in a dismissive gesture. “Oh, please. I am not about to execute the lot of you out of spite.” She turned away from Maklavir. “I’m a privateer, not a barbarian.” She looked over towards where several members of her crew were hauling chests and barrels from the hold of the merchant ship onto the pirate ship. “Once we have taken what is of use to us, we will let you sail onwards.” She glanced back at the merchant captain. “Unharmed.”
The man gave a feverish nod. “Thank you. Eru bless you, I—”
“Except,” Sadira said with a pointed finger at Kara, “for her.”
There was a shocked silence on the deck of the merchant ship.
Sadira snapped her fingers at two of the nearest pirates. “Take her.”
They surged forward and grabbed Kara by the arms, dragging her forwards to the middle of the deck.
Kara kicked and struggled, but the two muscled buccaneers held her fast.
Joseph staggered forward, clenching his fists.
One of the nearest pirates slugged him hard in the stomach.
Joseph collapsed back against the railing and crashed to the deck.
“Joseph!” Kara cried over her shoulder.
A pirate gave her a hard backhanded slap across the face.
Kara’s head jerked from the blow. Blood trickled from her mouth.
A cheer went up from the pirates.
Maklavir took a step forward, his eyes flaring. “You
said none of us would be harmed.”
A pirate pulled out a wheelock pistol and stuck the barrel in Maklavir’s face.
Maklavir barely hesitated or noticed. “You said you weren’t a barbarian,” he said to Sadira’s back. “What is this, then?”
Joseph coughed and retched. He pulled himself back up against the railing.
Another pirate kept his cutlass aimed squarely at Joseph’s mid-section.
Sadira turned. “This? This is justice, my friend. Honor. Code.” She gave an exaggerated sigh. “It is out of my hands.”
Maklavir flicked his eyes to the black barrel of the pistol that hovered just inches from his face. “And what does that mean, exactly?”
Sadira gave a slight shrug. “This little vixen killed two of my men.” She leaned close to Kara, as if examining a wild animal. “And wounded two more quite badly, I might add.”
Kara glared back at Sadira. The two pirates locked her arms, holding her tight.
“Now,” Sadira continued, speaking as if she were ruminating on a point of philosophy, “it is the law of the sea that blood requires blood.” She gave a shrug of her shoulders. “I cannot let this girl go. If I did, anyone would think they could just kill my crew without consideration of the consequences.”
“You attacked us,” Joseph gasped. His face was still contorted in pain.
“I assure you,” Sadira said gracefully, “this is nothing personal. It is purely business. When this woman,” she pointed at Kara, “kills my men, she costs me money and time. There must be payment for that. Remuneration.” She stepped forward and fingered Kara’s red hair. “It is a pity, to be sure. I have no doubt that you would fetch a great deal in the slave markets of Cayman. Red hair is so rare.”
The pirates crowded on the deck chuckled and jeered.
Sadira turned. “We shall do this properly. Get the plank.”
Kara slammed the heel of her boot down on the toe of one of the pirates who was holding her.
He screamed and released his hold, hopping backwards.
The second pirate started to turn, still holding her arm tightly.
Kara kneed him hard in the stomach.
The man crashed back onto the deck, holding his stomach and grunting.
Three more pirates rushed in and grabbed Kara’s arms.
She twisted, kicking and fighting as the men restrained her.
Joseph started forward.
The pirate in front of him poked the tip of his cutlass into Joseph’s chest. “Don’t even think about it,” he rumbled.
The first pirate whose foot Kara had stepped on limped forward. He drew a long, sharp knife from his belt. “Let me at her,” he rasped, “and I’ll show her who’s—”
“Enough,” said Sadira. She glared at the pirate until he slunk back a step. “We will do this properly.” She nodded towards one of the dead bodies on the main deck. “Heave that overboard.” She gave Kara a cruel smile. “We want to make sure there are enough sharks before we toss you in. Drownings are so boring.” She motioned towards Kara with her hand. “Bind her hands, gentlemen.”
The pirates pulled Kara’s arms back roughly. One began to tie her wrists together tightly.
Kara kicked and writhed like a snake.
The pirates cursed and grunted as they tried to bind her hands. One got a boot in the face for his efforts.
“Well, well,” said Sadira with an admiring smile. “She really is quite the fighter, isn’t she?” She swept her gaze over the sheepish crew of the merchant ship. “She certainly puts you big strong men to shame.”
Maklavir stepped forward, ignoring the pistol barrel that was practically touching his cheek. “You can’t do this.”
Sadira gave a helpless shrug. “As I said before, handsome, it is out of my hands.” She nodded to a group of pirates.
They heaved the bloody corpse of the dead pirate overboard, arrow and all. Then they grabbed one of the boarding planks and stuck it out over the heaving ocean.
A fin cut through the surface of the water almost immediately, low and gray. Another came from off to the left, then disappeared.
The body of the dead pirate jerked once, rolling haphazardly in the swell. Then it was yanked underneath the waves.
Petranus peered out over the side of the ship. “Looks like the sharks are hungry today.”
A cheer sounded from the assorted pirates. They pushed Kara forward towards the boarding plank.
Kara turned her head, looking fearfully at Maklavir and Joseph.
Joseph started forward again, grabbing clumsily at the pirate in front of him.
The pirate bashed him on the head with the hilt of his cutlass.
Joseph dropped unconscious to the deck of the ship.
“Wait,” said Maklavir suddenly.
“Oh, let it go, you fool,” the merchant captain hissed. “Better that she die than all of us die.”
Sadira drew her rapier.
The pirates that held Kara pushed her onto the end of the board.
She wobbled for a moment, but even with her hands tied she managed to regain her balance.
Sadira lowered her sword, and pointed it straight at Kara. She began to walk quickly forward.
“I said wait,” Maklavir repeated. He took a step forward.
The pirate in front of him snarled and shoved the pistol into his face.
“Oh for Eru’s sake,” Maklavir snapped, “if you’re going to shoot me then do it already. Otherwise get that bloody thing out of my face.” He pushed the barrel of the pistol aside.
Sadira came right up to Kara. Her rapier flashed in the weak sunlight. She brought the sharp tip of the blade to within a couple inches of Kara’s chest. “I told you,” she said without looking back, “this is not personal. It is a matter of business.”
“I know,” Maklavir said. His voice was deadly calm.
Sadira paused. She turned her head ever so slightly.
Maklavir straightened the cuffs of his shirt. “Let’s make a deal.” He tilted his head. “Unless, of course, you’re afraid to.”
Silence swept the deck.
Sadira turned fully around. She lifted her rapier again. “You have nothing to bargain with, handsome.”
“The name,” said Maklavir as he plucked a piece of lint off his sleeve, “is Maklavir. And I beg to differ. I do have something to bargain with.”
The faintest hint of a smile crossed Sadira’s lips. “Well, perhaps there is a man with courage aboard this ship after all.” She lifted her rapier and rested the blade on her padded shoulder. “Please, Maklavir, bargain away.”
“I can offer myself,” said Maklavir coolly.
Kara stared wide-eyed at her friend. “Maklavir—”
Sadira raised a hand without turning around. “Silence, vixen, or I’ll have you gagged as well as bound.” She looked Maklavir up and down with a discerning gaze. “You don’t seem to be a very good trade.”
“That’s because you don’t know who I am,” Maklavir said quickly. He reached a hand inside his vest pocket.
The pirate with the pistol straightened and shoved his gun forward with a growl.
Maklavir gave him a sidelong glance. “Yes, do be on your guard. I might pull out a dagger or something. What will you and your twenty friends do then?”
Sadira smiled and waved her hand.
The pirate backed away reluctantly. He kept his pistol trained on Maklavir.
Maklavir squared his shoulders, then pulled out a large piece of paper with an official seal stamped on the bottom.
Sadira narrowed her eyes. “And what, pray tell, is that?”
“It’s an official document that declares that I am a diplomat for the nation of Valmingaard, and therefore a person of some importance,” Maklavir said smoothly. “Assuming, of course, that any of you are capable of reading.”
There was a round of angry muttering from the assembled pirates.
Sadira tapped her fingers on the hilt of her rapier. “Petranus,” she said afte
r a moment. “Bring it here, will you?”
The imposing pirate with the crooked nose crossed over to Maklavir with a glare and a sneer. He snatched the paper out of Maklavir’s hand, then handed it to Sadira.
She looked over it for a moment, an eyebrow skeptically cocked.
Maklavir stood placidly by, his arms folded as calmly as if he had been waiting for a dinner reservation.
Kara twisted and wobbled on the bouncing plank. Her gaze shifted fearfully from Maklavir to Sadira and back again.
Sadira handed the paper back to Petranus. “All right, so you’re a diplomat. You still have nothing to bargain with.” She gave a little laugh. “Unless you intend to threaten us. Valmingaard is, I am afraid, far away from here.”
“Yes,” Maklavir agreed, “but the pockets of the King are still deep.” He looked out over the tossing sea towards the horizon. “I happen to be on a very important mission to Redemption. Valmingaard, as you may or may not know, is currently at war and desperate for supplies.” Maklavir glanced back at Sadira, the feather bobbing on his cap. “We need the lumber that the colony can give us.”
Sadira gave a long, slow smile. “This is sounding more and more like a threat, handsome. And I do not respond well to threats.”
Petranus put a hand on his own cutlass with a malicious grin.
Maklavir snorted. “Don’t be stupid.” He looked around the ship. “I have nothing to threaten you with. Valmingaard is hardly a naval power.”
Petranus started forward, but Sadira laid a hand on his arm.
“Then tell me,” she said, her voice losing none of its charm. “What do you have to offer me, handsome?”
“Money,” said Maklavir. “And lots of it. The King of Valmingaard will pay to have one of his principle diplomats released from captivity by a gang of ruthless pirates.” His purple cape flapped and twirled in the ocean breeze. “Assuming, of course, that I remain unharmed.” He glanced significantly at Petranus.
With a deep frown the pirate slowly took his hand off the hilt of the cutlass.
Sadira rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I admit, I am only a simple pirate, but I still fail to see how this is a negotiation.”
Maklavir nodded at Kara. “You let her go, and I’ll come with you willingly.” He swung his head around to the rest of the crew and the unconscious form of Joseph. “Them, too.”
