“Where’s Tikis?” asked Minni.
“The gig is waiting,” repeated the tattooed man.
“Kobb’s had us waiting on our arses for more than a twist,” said Delik. “He can bloody well hold his horses while you answer the question!”
The tattoos rippled on his face, his eyes clouded black. “The drakkin chief is safe. He awaits Kobb’s reception.” His eyes cleared. “You waste time.”
“Ash on that! You could’ve picked us out of the water to start with.”
The tattooed man ignored Delik’s protest and led them to the main deck, ordering them to descend a rope ladder into a large boat with oarsmen at the ready. Hurn shinned down a thick mooring line, lest he break the ladder, and took a place in the centre of the boat, which dipped low in the water and quivered as he adjusted his weight. Amber chimed her song to calm Hurn’s nerves, making a ringing melody that baffled Elrin. He watched her mouth, the incongruous movement of her lips dancing before the tune. It had to be magic, it made no sense.
The oars plunged into the sea and stroked in time to Amber’s tune. Elrin closed his eyes and listened to her song, remembering his mother’s voice, like honey on silver, lulling him to sleep when he was a child. He wondered if she was standing by the shutters as she always did, staring down Flint Street to the Cog and Wheel, waiting for Father. A wave broke over the gunwale, sloshing cold water across Elrin’s lap and rousing him from his daydream.
“Why’s the bloody Ogre have to come along?” whined Delik.
Hurn shifted, tilting the boat to snort at Delik.
“He is of value to Kobb,” said the tattooed man. “Kobb has requested him and that is enough.”
Hurn sneezed, rocking the boat again. Delik huffed to himself and stifled any further objections.
The oarsmen cut their way through the swell to Kobb’s ship; Bone Dancer. It was the largest of the pirate’s ships, bristling with cannons, colourful and ungainly. The ship’s high forecastle and poop deck stood proud, rounding down to her trim waist, while her sails were an outlandish spectacle of colour; Bone Dancer was a giant floating peacock.
***
Once aboard Bone Dancer, they were escorted to the captain’s quarters. It was a large room adorned in finery. Silverware rested on a central dining table with platters of fruit, biscuits and cut meats. A great bed, draped in red velvet curtains, indulged the far corner in luxury. Beside it stood a tall mirror. Decadent paintings of barely dressed men and women hung in golden frames.
Tikis was already seated at the long table. Opposite him was Commodore Pelegrin, healed, but foul faced by their presence. The bearded redeemer sneered at them and oiled a predatory smile for Amber. She tucked herself behind Hurn out of her master’s view.
“He’ll not harm you here,” Minni placed her hands on the fearful girl’s shoulders and straightened them out of their slump. “Not with all of us to protect you.”
Tikis was uncomfortable. What was worse for the drakkin; sitting on a chair or sitting down with his enemies? Kobb hadn’t thought through the seating arrangements. Or, perhaps he had. Perhaps it amused him to have a drakkin sit at the edge of his seat, so his tail wouldn’t kink. Either way, Elrin wondered how long the meal would last before someone was stabbed with the silver.
Behind each chair a man stood guard. Tattoos covered their muscular bodies like the ones on the companions’ escort, but their faces were bare. The guard beside Tikis offered Minni her seat first, though Minni ignored the suggested chair, sauntering her way around the table to take the one beside the redeemer. Two of the guards grabbed her and guided her back to sit where she was first invited. Elrin was ushered beside the redeemer while Amber sat between Minni and Delik. Hurn was invited to sit last, on a chair beside Elrin. The ogre stooped over his seat scratching his chin, then pushed the seat aside and dropped his weight onto the floor, bumping the table as he bent his broad legs to kneel. He gave Elrin a gentle nudge, grinning at the food spread out on the table. Elrin’s stomach growled in agreement.
Only one seat remained at the head of the table, carved of tooth and bone. The scrimshaw elaborated intricate swirling patterns, like the ink on the men who stood guard. The tattoo-faced man gave a curt nod and his warriors straightened to attention, ready for the pirate leader’s grand entrance.
Elrin expected Kobb to be an imposing battle-hardened buccaneer, but the manicured, well-cut pirate who gambolled through the door was far from it. He was a diminutive shankakin, shorter than Delik and wearing a glaring clash of bright silks, puffing him out with frills like feathers. Leather boots with thick heels and polished buckles gave just enough extra height to make him seem at once vain and unstable. Elrin had never seen a shankakin cover their feet; Kleith had taught him it severed their connection with Ona, their favoured Goddess.
Kobb’s sword swayed as he swaggered to his seat, the jewelled pommel and filigree basket guard catching the light, shining like his toothy grin. A tight leather vest girdled his round belly, accentuating the flamboyance of the silken sleeves that burst out in colourful ruffles. Both vest and blouse plunged with a low neck, revealing Kobb’s thick black, tightly curled chest hair. Something moved on his shoulder. At first glance Elrin missed it, his eyes diverted by the pirate’s attire. Then it moved again, something wriggling in the ruffles of Kobb’s garish blouse, lurking over his neck and shoulders.
“Please remain seated!” Kobb announced. “Don’t get up on my account.”
Minni rolled her eyes; no one had made any effort to stand in the first place.
With the utmost dignity, Kobb took his seat at the head of the table. The creature he carried on his shoulder spread its wings and fluttered onto a golden perch hanging from the ceiling. It was a tiny dragon, the size of a parrot and skinny like a skink. In every way it appeared just like the dragons Elrin had read about, just like the shadows that flew over Calimska when the season began, but smaller—much smaller. Its long tail wrapped around the gilded perch and ended in a barbed stinger. It preened, chittering to itself.
“So I trust you all know each other by now, hmm?” Kobb leant back and delivered a cheerful smile to his guests. For good or ill, Elrin had met everyone, but certainly didn’t know them. Before he had time to consider asking, Kobb swung into his speech.
“I’d like to welcome you all to stay as my honoured guests this evening. I’m sure it has been some time since you all had a good meal.” The pirate swept his arms wide showing the feast before them. “Others, such as my good man Fjhor, eat with me every night. He even eats before I do!” Kobb paused for a moment scanning the room, hoping someone found his joke amusing. After a brief moment of awkward silence, their host continued with the speech unperturbed by his humourless guests. “Many thanks to these two fine Jandans; well, one fine Jandan and a Calimskan outcast. Sorry Brother Uighara, you won’t live that down I’m afraid—redemption or not, infamy is a sticky business. Now, where was I ...” Kobb squinted at a sheet of paper on the table. “Ah yes, my thanks to you both for taking the time to drag yourselves away from the conference below decks. How are the troops, Commodore? Morale must be high now that you’ve all got the day off.” Kobb searched their faces with an eager grin, desperate for a laugh. He flung his hands up, exasperated by the silence.
“Enough of your pompous prancing about, grub!” Pelegrin stood up and snatched the carving knife from the meat platter. The guard behind had Pelegrin’s hair in a fist and a dagger at his throat before he moved to attack anyone. The Commodore stilled himself and dropped the knife. Though his arm had been healed, his reflexes were no match for the mercenary behind him. Pelegrin was forced back into his chair before the mercenary’s blade was removed from his throat.
“Manners please, Commodore!” Kobb feigned shock, rising from his chair, his cheeks quivering. Kobb leant over, reaching across to the finely polished dinner setting in front of Pelegrin. He lifted the knife from the outside of the set and held it in front of the man’s eye.
“You sh
ould know better, Pelegrin,” Kobb winked to the others. “This one is for your appetiser.”
Even though Kobb’s dramatics put him on edge, Elrin couldn’t resist a smirk. Hurn slapped his hand on the deck and rumbled. The outburst gave everyone a fright until they realised Hurn was only chuckling. Amber burst into giggles, then Kobb laughed, clapping his hands.
“Wonderful, wonderful. Let’s start shall we? Fjhor, bring in the first course.”
The tattoo-faced warrior walked across the room to let in a line of servants, each displaying the etiquette of domestic help entrusted to wait on elite families in their great houses. One carried a large pot, steaming its way to the side table. With poise and grace, bowls of fragrant soup were ladled and placed in front of everyone.
“Don’t worry, Commodore,” said Kobb. “You won’t need that knife just yet.”
A servant followed the soup service with a pitcher, filling their silver goblets with wine. Pelegrin downed his and held his goblet up for more, sneering at Kobb. Kobb was served last before the servants retreated out the door. Fjhor walked to Kobb’s side and sampled his soup and wine. He swished each taste around in his mouth then nodded to the pirate, taking a step back to stand guard.
“Please, enjoy,” said Kobb.
Elrin took his spoon from the outside and sipped the broth. It was delicious; the sweet spiced seafood with pepper and lime sent his taste buds in a whirl. He hadn’t had such fine food since he was a boy; not since his mother was the Pride of the Bard’s Guild, waited on by servants. Hurn lifted the bowl to his mouth and slurped his soup down in one great gulp. The ogre must have found utensils rather foolish. Elrin wouldn’t hurry his; every spoonful was a delight.
Tikis also refused to use a spoon, using his long tongue to lap at the liquid instead. After a few flicks of his tongue his scaled snout wrinkled in distaste. Pushing the bowl to the side, the drakkin reached for his goblet and emptied the wine into his maw, closing his eyes in pleasure. With a satisfied clicking sound from his throat, he opened his eyes to catch Elrin and Hurn staring. The warrior darted his tongue out at them, tasting the air.
“Why this ogre not scared?” asked Tikis. “These whips and chains so easy to forget?”
Hurn narrowed his ice blue eyes and snorted. “Hurn Ga Kogh does not forget. Free is not free. Chained is not chained.”
“Oh, very profound indeed,” Kobb dabbed his mouth with a white silk napkin, eager to join the conversation. “And from the mouth of an ogre no less. You must tell us your story, Hurn-Ka-Gop. Ogres with brains are in short supply around here.”
Hurn snorted at Kobb and repositioned his legs, bumping the table again.
“Is this going somewhere, Kobb?” Delik dropped his spoon in his soup bowl, making a clatter on the porcelain.
“Yes, yes, be patient. I always begin with a soup; it is nice, isn’t it. Hungry hmm? You can have the scaler’s too if you like, he won’t mind.”
Tikis hissed at Kobb and rose from his chair, but Delik grabbed his shoulder, urging him to keep calm. The pseudodragon batted the air with its wings and swung on its perch with a hiss of its own. Kobb feigned misunderstanding, acting shocked by Tikis’s reaction. With a knife at everyone’s back, they would all have to be patient and endure the performance.
Amber hadn’t touched her soup. Uighara stared over the table at her while he ate. Amber kept her eyes down, shoulders slumped under the weight of the redeemer’s eyes. There was a thump under the table and Uighara flinched, screwing up his face in pain, eyes darting between Delik and Minni.
Minni pointed her finger at the redeemer. “Leave the child alone, dog.”
Uighara sneered and returned his foul gaze to Amber.
Elrin grabbed his fork. He’d pin the poaching bastard’s hand to the table; that would break his hold on the poor girl. Uighara sensed the intent and turned on Elrin, binding his hand with magic. Crushing pain seized him as if the redeemer’s own heel was standing on the young man’s wrist.
Minni kicked under the table again, diverting Uighara’s attention and releasing the magical grip. Elrin took the chance to drop the fork, rubbing his wrist in pain. The redeemer’s strange magic left him racked by guilt for his offence, festering with a sense of not amounting to expectation. Just a scraping of the foul priest’s oppression had made him wilt in mere moments. What poor Amber had suffered as Uighara’s acolyte was beyond him.
Kobb tapped his bowl with the spoon. “Now, now, children! No fighting at the table! Commodore, get a leash on your hound. Or I’ll tie him up my own way.” The flamboyant pirate stood, snapping his fingers at Uighara. “Hoy! Over here! Eyes on me, poacher.”
Uighara shot his gaze upon Kobb; vile pride smearing his lips into a smile. Kobb grasped at his throat, wheezing. The tiny dragon flew to Kobb’s shoulder and hissed at Uighara, whipping its long tail. A guard pressed a blade into Uighara’s neck, piercing the flesh, spilling a line of blood onto the white silk collar of his robe.
Gasping for air, Kobb fell back into his ornate seat. The face of Uighara’s guard rippled like a bucket full of eels, morphing the guard’s face into Fjhor’s. Fjhor’s body had not moved, but his face was alive with moving black ink. He was both here and there. Elrin had seen sorcerers teleport themselves around Calimska. He’d even heard of invisibility spells, but how was this possible?
With a final hiss at Uighara, the pseudodragon encircled its serpentine tail around Kobb’s arm and nestled its body in to the ruffles of his shirt, satisfied it had nullified the hostile magic. Breathing easier, Kobb scratched the little creature’s chin. “My dear, Prisella. What would I do without you?” Prisella nuzzled up to Kobb’s cheek, appreciating the gratitude. Bolstered with confidence in his pet, Kobb waved off Uighara’s guard. The warrior withdrew his blade and the tattoos on his face rippled away, dissolving into the black pools of his eyes, his original features restored.
Kobb leapt onto his chair and rising as high as a human might stand, he thrust a quivering finger at Uighara. “That was your last chance. Use your ill-gotten magic on my ship again and I’ll have you flogged till the Lord’s black star shines white.” The poacher priest maintained his greasy self-satisfied smile, tilting his head in mock acquiescence to Kobb’s scolding.
Standing down from his chair, Kobb called the servants to clear the first course and serve the second. While the food was delightful and filling, the mood at the grand table was oppressive; dense with undigested conflict. Their pirate host sulked at the head of the table, no longer the entertainer. He ate, filling his mouth through each course, drawing out the long gluttonous silence. The room condensed the unsaid. A thick expectation of argument clouded the air, brewing like a thundercloud that would not break.
Only after dessert was served did the shankakin pirate regain his cheerful resolve, stabbing cubes of mango with joyful appetite, smiling to himself and relaxing into his chair. He fidgeted, waiting for his guests to finish, like a child brimming with a new secret he had to tell.
Once the table was cleared, Kobb rose from his chair. “I just can’t think straight without a meal under my belt. Now that we’re all full and in good spirits, it’s time for a little game.”
Pelegrin and Delik stood at the same time.
“I will not be part of this charade any longer!” bellowed Pelegrin, slapping his palm on the table. Delik yelled something in Shankan that Elrin didn’t understand. Minni smirked.
The tattooed guards deflated their bluster, quietening all protest with a sharp blade pressing into each man’s back.
“Aha! I can see you are excited to play. Let me tell you the rules. Each of you think of something you want, and I will to give it to you. Sounds good doesn’t it, but in return you give something to me. I help you. You help me. We all get what we want. Are you ready to play?”
“Do we have a choice?” asked Elrin.
“It would certainly be impolite to refuse. You’ve just filled your bellies with my generosity, what’s the harm in a little after-din
ner game? Goodness, gracious me.”
Hurn held up eight of his meaty fingers, with hands strong enough to pluck Kobb’s head from his shoulders. “This many gifts you take, we take one. Hurn Ga Kogh knows not equal.”
“Well, you ate more than everyone else. That’s not equal is it? One gift is better than none. Think yourself lucky to get anything. When was the last time you got a present, eh?” The pirate grinned and his gold teeth caught the glare of afternoon sun shining through the stern gallery.
“Got free, got shield, got battle, got little bell song, got swim. Hurn Ga Kogh much got. You much take. Give little.”
“My glory! If I knew the cogs in that noggin had so much grease, I would have thought twice about saving you.” Kobb crossed his arms like a petulant child, unhappy with a toy.
“You no save. Pirate’s little spears bite.” Hurn slapped the weeping wound on his shoulder.
“You fired on the ship!” said Elrin, incensed. “How does that save anyone?”
“Why didn’t you board the ship like we agreed?” asked Delik.
“Enough!” yelled Kobb. “Can we please just get along? Can’t you understand, I’m trying to help you?”
Delik pressed on. “Why sink that one and not the others? Why risk Juniper at the same time? You said you would board, not fire. That’s why I got you for the job.”
“Enough!” Kobb climbed back on his chair, standing over Delik.
“You knew the cargo, Kobb,” said Minni. “How could you?”
“Your new toy churned through the sea like some great sea monster! How was I to know it was the work of this fine young boy, rushing you all to aid my attack?” Kobb threw his arms up, innocence personified with a splash of colour. “I panicked! I wrongly guessed the two others were chasing you. How was I to know that young Scrambletoe would do so well in his first big cut up?”
“That one lies,” said Tikis. “These ones sent messages flying. That one has long eye. That one knows drakkin sailing Jando ships.”
Dragon Choir Page 15
