by Rob J. Hayes
Aye said Drake
Chapter 51 – Fortune
New Sev’relain had grown far beyond the hundred or so dispossessed refugees the town had started with. Drake wagered they now numbered at least ten times that. The forest had taken a beating, but there were still plenty of trees on the island and those that had been chopped down now stood tall as the framework for their home. Drake no longer bothered to count how many buildings had been erected, and more were rising up from the dirt every day.
The wall had been rebuilt and finished a good long while back, and now provided a hefty layer of protection against any who might try to come from the forest. Guard towers were set along its length, and those who manned them were well known to be crack shots with either bow or rifle – not that they had many of the latter.
The port was another matter, and they were well defended there too. Most of the work had gone into building up the piers and berths, allowing as many ships as possible at the docks. New Sev’relain was quickly becoming a thriving trade town, and they needed as much space as possible for both the merchant ships and those being outfitted for war. A number of war scorpions had been shipped off North Storm and sat ready, just beyond the shoreline in case of attack. The engineers had built ingenious platforms for the war machines that could be turned in a full circle, so no hostile ship intending to enter the bay would be safe.
Drake marvelled at the number of ships they’d brought together. He’d owned more at Fortune’s Rest, of course, but most of those had been smaller vessels, not suited for combat at sea. The thought of the Rest brought a bitter tang to his musings.
Ruien Portly had arrived with no more than twenty ships in total. Drake had entrusted the old pirate with repurposing the Rest into a fleet with as many combat-ready vessels as possible. Some had simply not been fit for purpose, and more were lost at sea during a particularly violent storm that the fat bastard should have seen coming. Drake would have strung Ruien up for his foolishness, but the man was a seasoned commander and right now they needed as many of those as they could get.
Not all of the vessels floating around the bay were Drake’s to command, and that rankled him more than he could say. A few weeks ago ten ships had appeared on the horizon, and they claimed to be from Chade. At first Drake had been more than a little pleased that Anders had managed to convince Rose and her Thorn to help out, at least until the man in charge had informed Drake that the ships answered to Elaina Black and no one else. They were waiting in the bay for her return, and claimed they wouldn’t take part in any conflict without her. Not even Tanner had been able to change their position.
To make matters even more infuriating, Zothus had finally returned home just a few days ago, and he’d brought fourteen ships and a few hundred freed slaves with him. The ex-slaves were quickly integrated into either the town or the fleet, and Zothus claimed they were courtesy of Keelin, but the ships were another matter. Much like the fleet from Chade, the ships from Larkos claimed they answered to Elaina Black and no one else.
Tanner’s sea bitch of a daughter was in command of twenty-four battle-ready vessels, and she was very much in the column of missing. In truth, Drake wasn’t certain he wanted her to appear. He’d agreed with Tanner to make Elaina his queen just as soon as the crown was good and certain, but it would be a marriage of necessity. Drake didn’t want any of the Blacks sharing his bed, no matter how good she might look naked.
A new ship, one Drake didn’t recognise, was drifting into a berth down at the docks. It would be safe; T’ruck would have made sure of that. The giant captain’s behemoth floated at anchor just outside the bay. North Storm was almost fully manned now, and T’ruck insisted on inspecting every ship that came to New Sev’relain.
“Another one?” Beck said. Her compulsion was a comforting feeling now that Drake was so used to it. “And more sails on the horizon.”
“Looks like,” Drake said, turning a warm smile on the Arbiter. Beck returned the smile for a brief second before it dropped from her face, replaced by something a lot like hunger. The Arbiter was in Drake’s bed almost on a nightly basis these days, and it was something he was more than a little thankful for. Beck was wild and passionate, and ever since their encounter with the Drurr, her appetite had been insatiable. She was holding something back though, and Drake yearned to find out what. He spotted a familiar figure wandering the streets of his little town. A smile stretched across his face and he waved to the man, beckoning him up to the balcony.
By the time the door opened and Anders stepped through, he was already carrying two drinks and Drake wagered the man would have had another if he could only grow a third hand. Anders may be a booze-soaked sot, but he was also one of the most reliable spies Drake had ever employed. He also owed his life to Drake more than once over, and that made him almost as loyal as family.
“Oh, fuck me,” Anders said, near jumping out of his skin when he spied Beck sitting nearby. “Must you wear that coat, my dear? You damned near scared the intoxication right out of me, and believe me, you wouldn’t like me when I’m sober.”
“I don’t like you now,” Beck said flatly.
“Charming,” Anders said, finding an empty table and setting his drinks down. “That’s only because you don’t yet know me. I’m a very amiable sort once…”
“Anders,” Drake said.
“Aye, Captain.” Anders snapped to mock attention. “Are you aware you have an Arbiter in your midst, Drake? She’s wearing the coat and everything.”
Beck had taken to wearing her coat again soon after the slaughter of the Drurr. Whether it was because she no longer cared who knew of her profession or because she needed the reminder herself, Drake was unsure. The Arbiter stood up, sauntered over to Anders, and plucked one of his mugs from the table before retreating to her seat near the door.
“Damned unnerving,” Anders continued. “Did I ever tell you an Arbiter almost killed me once?”
“Heretic, are you?” Beck said.
“No,” Anders said with a dramatic shiver as Beck’s compulsion forced the truth from him. “By all the gods, that never gets any less unpleasant, does it? No, no heretic. I just happened to be in the way of an Arbiter looking for our good Captain Drake here.”
Beck cocked an eyebrow at Drake. He shrugged.
“Got some news, have we, Anders?” Drake said. “I do hope it’s good.”
“Well, of course it isn’t.” Anders collapsed into a chair and scooped up his one remaining mug of beer. “See, the thing about good news is that it travels fast, faster indeed than should really be possible. Why, I could hear some good news and bear it here more expediently than any other, and yet somehow the word of that news would still outdistance me.
“Bad news, on the other hand, likes to hide and wait. It likely made it here a good few days ago, where it’s been waiting for me to deliver it just because it hates to be its own bearer.”
“Anders,” Drake prompted with a growl.
“Alright. Just remember how we messengers detest getting shot.” The drunkard sent a glance at Beck. “Believe me, I know from experience.”
After a few moments of silence, Anders finally got around to delivering his news. “They’re coming, Drake. Now. Already.”
“Fuck.” Drake wondered how quickly he could get the rest of the ships ready. “How many?”
“At least fifty ships. Mostly galleons. A few Man of Wars.”
Drake looked out at the bay. Without the ships from Chade and Larkos they would be smashed, overrun by sheer numbers. He needed to come up with a way to convince them to fight for him rather than Elaina Black.
“How is it this is the first we’re hearing of those sorts of numbers?” he said.
“That Five Kingdoms whelp of a king is a smart bastard,” Anders said around a mouthful of beer. “He locked down Land’s End while they made the preparations. I barely managed to get out ahead of the fleet. It was an impressive feat of ingenuity. You should have…”
“How
long do we have?”
Anders sighed. “Not long. Probably not even long enough for me to make my usual escape. I tell you this so you realise the depth of my predicament in bringing you this dire news.”
“Aye, you’re a real hero, Anders,” Drake growled. “Where in the Hells is Stillwater?”
“Who?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“There’s something else,” Anders said with a heavy sigh. “They have a pirate directing them here, making sure they don’t fall foul of your treacherous waters. A man by the name of Poole?”
“Daimen Poole?” Drake said.
“Most likely. Thick isles accent. Dirty-straw hair and a squat nose.”
“Aye, that’s Poole. Treasonous bastard.”
“He seemed quite reluctant, if that’s any consolation.”
“Not really.” It wasn’t enough that the bastards had built a fleet the size of which hadn’t been seen for hundreds of years – now they were turning Drake’s own allies against him. He was starting to regret leaving Poole to die.
“Drake?” Beck’s voice snapped him back to the problem at hand. “What do we do?”
Drake stormed over to Anders’ table, plucked his drink from his hand and downed it, to a chorus of moans from the drunkard.
“We gather the captains and tell them to get their ships in order.”
Chapter 52 - Fortune
The Righteous Indignation was cleared of stragglers, drunks, and anyone without the title of captain or first mate. By the time Anders sat down at Drake’s table to tell him that his full war council had convened, there were nearly a hundred people crammed in, filling every chair, every stool, every corner, and all the bits in between. It wasn’t just those who had signed on to help; even Elaina Black’s recruits had turned up to hear the news, and Drake realised now was the time to convince them to fight for him whatever their orders.
Tanner Black was a dark presence in the room. He’d taken a corner for his own and had a number of folk surrounding him, including the worthless shit of a fool he called a son. Tanner brought eight ships to the table, and that was no small number. Only Drake and Elaina could claim more.
T’ruck Khan had claimed the middle table, and that, and his size, made him the centre of attention. The giant was now known as the Hero of the Isles, a title Drake had helped to secure for him, and his influence was greater than he was aware. No one but his most loyal of crew knew how they’d taken the behemoth that floated in their waters, and those crew members were saying nothing. In truth it didn’t matter how the captain had accomplished the miracle, only that he had and that everyone knew it. T’ruck’s voice would carry as much weight as he did in the coming storm of words.
There were plenty of others too. Deun Burn had rallied some of his Riverlanders, and had three ships following his command. It was far from a lot, but even one combat-ready boat could make all the difference. Sienen Zhou had captured a slaver with his own ship, Freedom, and now both crews sailed under his flag.
Never before in any sort of history, recorded or otherwise, had there been a gathering of captains quite like this. Even in the days of the old Captain Black, the tyrant had never known these sorts of numbers. Drake had accomplished so much already; he’d brought all the captains together and united them under his command, his rule. Now he needed to convince them to fight for their kingdom, because until they crushed the fleets of their enemies their waters would never be free of those who wished to oppress them.
It had taken a fair portion of the day to get word to all the captains, and some of them had been in the tavern for a lot of it. One or two were already a little pickled, and the beer was flowing freely now they were all gathered and the doors were shut.
Drake stepped up onto his chair, put two fingers in his mouth, and whistled so loudly even the rats paid him due attention. The noise died down – at least, as far as it could when there were a hundred pirates in a single room.
“Reckon you’ve probably all figured why I called ya here,” Drake started. “There’s…”
A loud banging on the door interrupted him, and a few moments later that same door opened. Keelin Stillwater stood on the other side with his first mate Morley beside him. Drake felt a grin spread across his face as Stillwater stepped into the tavern to a cheer from many of those inside. The grin dropped away a moment later, when Elaina Black came in after him.
“It’s about damned time ya…” Drake started, but was interrupted by two captains who rushed to Elaina, jostling each other for the chance to speak first.
“Captain Black,” said one, a tall man with dark hair braided into rows on top of his head. “The Lord and Lady of Chade send their regards.” He finished with a respectful bow of his head.
“Hmph,” grunted the other captain, who had been just a step behind. “As do the Council of Thirteen.”
“How many?” Elaina said, sending a smug glance towards Drake before turning that same look on her father.
“Ten,” said the captain from Chade.
“Fourteen,” said the captain from Larkos, in a voice that dripped with victory.
“All at my command?”
“Yours and no one else’s,” said the captain from Larkos.
“Good,” Elaina said.
“Where have you been, Stillwater?” Drake called, in an attempt to reclaim authority over the room.
“Following a lead,” Keelin said, moving to Drake’s table. “It didn’t work out.”
“I wouldn’t say that, Stillwater,” Elaina crowed, reclaiming the crowd’s attention. The woman pulled a ragged scroll from her jacket and walked to the centre of the room. She slapped the scroll down on T’ruck’s table. “Anyone here know any alchemy?”
A murmur ran through the crowd. It was Beck who spoke up. “I do.”
“Good to see you again, Arbiter,” Elaina said with a nod. “Fancy having a look?”
Beck stood and crossed to Elaina’s table. Drake hopped down from his chair and followed quickly. He was more than a little curious as to how the two women knew each other, but questioning either of them about it right now would only make him seem weak. Besides, he was also fairly curious as to what Elaina had found.
T’ruck glanced at the scroll and then turned his full attention to Elaina, a silly grin on his face. Drake opted for quite the opposite, with a curt glare at the woman followed by his full and undivided on the parchment.
“Looks like gibberish,” he said eventually. “And possibly a shopping list.”
“What? You can’t read it, Morrass?” Elaina grinned. “That’s why I scribbled down a translation.”
The woman was already starting to grate on Drake’s very last nerve, and worst of all was that she was doing it in front of all the other captains. “Enlighten me,” he growled.
“It’s the recipe for Everfire.”
There was a lot of noise as chairs were pushed away and pirates surged to their feet. Many tried to back away, as if the mere sight of the formula could set them on fire, while others pushed forwards to catch a glimpse.
Drake let out a sigh of frustration.
“Assuming you’re right – and we ain’t got nothing but your say so right now – where’d you find this?”
“The Forgotten Empire,” Elaina said, a statement that could only add weight to her claim.
“What the fuck were you doing there?” Drake said, with a little more venom than he’d intended.
“Looking after Stillwater.” Elaina narrowed her eyes. “Someone needs to keep him out of trouble.”
Drake turned to Keelin. The man was staring into a mug of beer. He’d appropriated Drake’s vacated chair and was doing a good job of trying to look uninterested in the situation. It seemed a little too much of a coincidence that Drake’s chart of the Forgotten Empire’s waters had been stolen and, just a short spell later, Stillwater had found himself in that area. Drake was starting to wonder if he could trust any of his captains.
“I can make this,”
Beck said. “I have no idea if it will work as Captain Black promises though.”
“Get on it,” Elaina said with a grin.
Beck gave the woman a long, hard stare, then turned her gaze on Drake, who made a show of thinking it over before nodding his assent. Beck rolled up the scroll and headed for the door.
“If this is real…” Drake started.
“Then I just brought one hell of a weapon to the table,” Elaina finished for him. “Along with twenty-four ships. Of course, they’re only here to sail for me if I’m queen.” She grinned.
Drake looked at Tanner. The black-hearted bastard was just watching, apparently content to let matters proceed as they would.
“What do you say, Morrass?”
Drake almost laughed. It was obvious now that Elaina had no idea about the deal he’d struck with her father. He was getting both of their support for the same terms, and all he had to do was put up with them both for the rest of his life. It was a hefty price to pay, but one that was definitely worth the prize of a crown. Besides, there was always the chance neither of them would survive the coming battle.
“Aye,” Drake said in a whisper amidst the sea of noise. “Can’t do this without those ships of yours. Soon as this fight is over, you and me sit our arses on the throne together.”
Elaina laughed. “Louder, Morrass.”
Drake ground his teeth and stared at the woman. Elaina didn’t flinch one drop.
“Listen!” Drake roared, the command in his voice forcing the tavern to quiet. “There’s a fight coming. The big one. The last one. The one we’ve been gathering for. And it’s coming soon.
“Sarth and the Five Kingdoms have sent a fleet fifty ships strong. We got them pretty equal on numbers there, but they’ll have bigger ships, more men. We win this battle and there won’t be another. The bastards will have no choice but to recognise us as a kingdom, right and true.
“You’ve all put your trust in me to gather you together and lead you to victory. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Can’t do it alone though.” Drake sent a long, poignant look at Elaina. “So the moment this is all over and I sit down as king, I’ll be sitting down with Captain Elaina Black as queen.”
