“Who is your leader?” Sir Eldrick asked with authority.
A female elf strode forth and ran a lazy finger down the front of his dull armor. “We have no leader. We lead ourselves.” She laced her arms over his shoulders.
“Please,” he said, politely removing her. “You must have a leader.”
She looked coyly at him and grinned. “Captain!” she yelled over her shoulder.
A middle-aged man with a short white beard speckled with the black hair of his youth strode forth, leaning on a crooked walking stick. He wore purple robes and a cap with goggles on his head. A long, curved pipe hung between his teeth, seemingly embedded in the right corner of his mouth. He had glazed brown eyes that seemed to take a moment to focus on Sir Eldrick. From his pocket, he took a pair of spectacles and popped them on his face. Sir Eldrick noticed that he had perhaps only four teeth, which pushed his bottom lip over the top, giving him a wise look. One feathered white braid fell out from under the cap, and the man pushed it behind his ear as he studied the companions.
“I am Captain B. Ripps. These are the dippies. And you are…” he waggled his fingers at Sir Eldrick.
“Sir—”
“Sir!” the captain interrupted Sir Eldrick, and his bushy eyebrows danced as he studied the knight like a fortune teller. “Sir Valiant!”
“No, good sir.”
“Hmm, but you are an Aquarius, yes?”
“No, Pisces.”
“Damn!” said the captain. He lit his pipe, blowing out a thick cloud that wreathed his head when he turned back determinedly. “You are, however, an only child…”
“I am the eldest of three. My name is—”
“But you are from…”
“V—”
“Vhalovia!” said the captain. He turned to the happy crowd with a knowing glance and tapped his forehead. “I know things.”
“Of course, listen, good Captain, we seem to have lost our way. We were headed—”
“You were headed here. And here you are,” said the captain. Seeing that Sir Eldrick had more to say on the matter, the captain raised a staying hand. “I insist that you stay with us, if just for the night. As you can see, mother moon will be full tonight. We share everything here in the City of the Dead. And share we shall. Come, rest your weary bones by the fire and tell us of your journeys out in the real world. Do they still use money?”
Sir Eldrick looked to the captain, confused, and regarded Brannon. The elf prince only shrugged.
“Come, come,” said an elf lass, taking Sir Eldrick by the arm. Another woman, this one a beautiful human, took his other arm, and together they led him into the city square, to the massive bonfire around which people danced.
Murland and the others followed, taken by the arms in a similar fashion by other men and women, elves and dwarves. The tents became more grand and congested around the city square. But most of them were open-aired, and there seemed to be no indication of where one person’s camp began and another ended. Men, elves, dwarves, and ogres sat around on large carpets that looked to have been taken from the homes of lords, but were now lined with hemp sandals. The dippies played music on stringed and wind instruments while others beat on big drums by the fire.
Dancers twirled and gyrated around the fire, their bodies naked but painted with deep reds, blues, purples, and oranges. Silver dots lined their frames from toes to fingertips, shimmering with the reflection of the fire burning bright before them. Their bodies were covered in a sweet, thin sheen of sweat, and when Murland took in their aroma, he had the sudden urge to sit down.
“Sit, take a load off, as they say,” said the captain. He motioned to a long table that must have come from the crumbled castle on the other side of the square, high upon a grassy hill.
The captain sat at the head of the table and patted the spot beside him. Sir Eldrick sat, and Brannon, Murland, Gibrig, and finally Willow joined them.
The captain clapped his hands. “Let us see what you have brought to share.”
Two men brought the horses and pack horse around, and they were soon relieved of their wares and tied off near a makeshift stable.
“Hey, that’s our stuff,” said Brannon, beginning to rise. Sir Eldrick helped him back to his seat with a hand on his stiff shoulder.
“I told you, we share everything here,” said the captain, winking at him.
All their supplies from the Wide Wall were laid out on the table, and twenty or so of the dippies sat down to join in the feast. The smoked meat and aged cheese was ripped from bags and passed around while the companions looked on miserably. The rice and wheat was handed off to elf females with big puffy hats, and the bread was ravished to crumbs in a matter of seconds.
In no time, all their food was eaten.
The captain sat back with a grin and patted the bulbous belly that seemed out of place on his thin frame. “I told you that we all share. And share we do. Bring the goodies!”
The elves giggled and the humans cheered while the dwarves pounded on the table with raucous laughter. The ogres stomped and danced with a chant-like “Hooph, hooph, hooph!”
Silver platters were put before the companions, laden with treats ranging from cookies to sugar sticks. Willow was reluctant to dig in, and she waited with the other champions for Sir Eldrick. He glanced around at the gathering, who stared with giddy anticipation.
“Thank you, could I bother you for tea?” he asked the captain before taking a bite of a cookie.
The companions dug into the treats, loading shiny silver plates with cookies, tarts, cream puffs, and sugar sticks. The food was delicious, and reminded Murland of the holidays, a time he had always spent helping the cooks of Abra Tower in their dinner and dessert making. He had always had a sweet tooth, but never had he tasted such wonderful delicacies.
He glanced over at Gibrig, who was stuffing his mouth with raisin bread, and suddenly the two were laughing at each other for no good reason. The out-of-place laughter resulted in even more, and soon the entire table, including Brannon and Sir Eldrick, were laughing at each other like simple fools.
Willow regarded them all with a mystified scowl. “What’s so funny anyway?” she asked, stuffing a cream puff in her wide green mouth.
Gibrig started laughing so badly that he couldn’t breathe, and he promptly fell out of his chair. Brannon giggled and punched at his chest, trying to swallow his last bite of food. Sir Eldrick laughed merrily and slapped his friend on the back, which caused the piece of cookie to fly out of Brannon’s mouth and hit a woman sitting across from him in the forehead. The group erupted in delirious laughter.
Willow regarded them all with apprehension and glanced suspiciously at the food in her hand. She put the food down, and noticed Captain B. Ripps watching her closely.
Chapter 5
A Deal is Struck on the Iron Fist
Princess Caressa Roddington stared out of the porthole, helplessly watching as the ship sailed east, away from Murland, and toward Magestra. She and the others had lost days, and she was sure that they would never stop the champions before they reached the Wide Wall.
She was desperate for a chance to speak with the captain. But McArgh had yet to visit the prisoners. Valkimir sat in the cell across from Caressa’s tiny one. Hagus was to his right. Dingleberry had been put in a tiny cell no larger than a shoe box, which sat in the cell next to Caressa’s. Her wings had been plucked from her back, but they were already beginning to grow back. They were tiny, however, and useless for flying. Wendel hung from shackles too small for his boney wrist, singing sad songs until he was repeatedly told to shut up.
Hagus had been sick for the entirety of the first day at sea. The smell of his vomit still stung Caressa’s nose, though it had dried long ago. A guard stood at the end of the hall between the cells, but he had answered none of their requests. They had barely been fed, and had it not been for the water they were allowed once a day, Caressa thought that they might have perished.
Caressa had put a plan
into action already, though the plan depended on the captain coming to see them, and hopefully bringing Caressa above deck and into her private quarters. McArgh’s carnal interest in the princess had been quite apparent, and Caressa was surprised that she hadn’t yet come for her.
Was she being vain? she wondered. Perhaps she had misjudged the powerful woman.
The door at the end of the cell block creaked open, and Caressa smiled to herself. Captain McArgh strode in with her belly leading the way.
Valkimir rose determinedly to his feet, and Caressa waved him off, shaking her head slightly.
He nodded understanding and backed against the wall instead, watching the captain walk between them.
McArgh sniffed and scowled at the sleeping dwarf and pile of dried vomit. “You all look like shit. Shame really, for one of royal blood.” She looked Caressa up and down hungrily, despite her insult, and grinned. “A lady like yourself shouldn’t have to go through this.”
“I suppose that now you will suggest that I go upstairs with you, perhaps to your chambers, where a fresh bath, food, and the sweetest of wine awaits,” said Caressa.
Captain McArgh lifted her chin and regarded Caressa closely. “You are a feisty one, I see. Mmm. Suppose I do not ask, suppose I have you dragged upstairs.”
“That isn’t the way you want to play this, and I know it. You do not want to force yourself upon me.”
“Is that right?” the captain asked, and she unlocked Caressa’s cell. She strode in, and the princess stood her ground, staring up defiantly. McArgh grabbed her by the throat, hard and fast enough to make Caressa gasp, and licked the sweat off the side of her cheek.
“I expected more from a woman,” said Caressa with effort.
McArgh‘s nostrils flared, and she released Caressa. “What, exactly, did you expect from a woman?”
“Class, for starters. Decent conditions for prisoners, secondly.”
“I’m a bloody pirate,” said the captain, arms wide. She hiked up the brassiere barely holding up her plump breasts and squared on Caressa. “But you are indeed a princess, and you do deserve better treatment than this. I would have you presentable when I ransom you to your father. Come.”
She turned and walked out the door, and Caressa cupped the small piece of cloth in her hand. The princess followed, throwing a quick wink at Valkimir.
“What about us?” he yelled, banging on the bars. “We’re starving, and the dwarf has been wheezing in his sleep. I believe that he is sick.
McArgh stopped and regarded the elf over her shoulder, and then looked to Caressa.
“I will be able to get far more…comfortable,” said Caressa, “if I know that my friends are not suffering.”
“Very well,” said McArgh, and turning, she slapped the guard on the shoulder. “See to it that they are fed. And clean up the dwarf’s mess. I’ll send down Ravenwing to look at him.”
“Thank you,” said Caressa.
McArgh scoffed and pulled Caressa along up the stairs.
Sunlight stung Caressa’s eyes and forced her to squint against the glare as she was pulled along. The pirates all laughed and taunted, whistling and lifting their skirts as she passed. McArgh led her to the captain’s quarters below the poop deck and closed the door tight behind her. On second thought, she took a sign hanging from the wall that said, Disturb at your own risk, and hung it on the outer knob.
“You can freshen up in my private bath; it is just there to the left. You will find an appropriate amount of hot water and soap,” said McArgh.
“Thank you…” said Caressa with her best smile, one reserved for the sons of kings and lords.
McArgh pursed her lips and offered Caressa a devilish but knowing glance. “Go on and clean yourself up,” she said, eyes exploring over Caressa’s form. “Take your time.”
Caressa smiled sweetly and curtsied before turning and walking passively but eagerly to the bath.
She closed the door behind her and breathed a sigh of relief. She looked at the pouch of cloth in her hand and carefully unfolded it. The fairy dust was still there and hadn’t leaked. It was the single most important part of her plan. She had been gathering it from the side of Dingleberry’s cell for two days. The poor little sprite had been crying over her lost wings, though she had said that the injury hadn’t hurt much. The new wings had begun to grow quickly, and they had dropped a lot of dust. Fairy dust, or fust, as it was known in the underground markets, was a strong intoxicant, and rendered users anywhere from manic, euphoric, sorrowful, to unconscious, depending on race and temperament. Humans, Caressa knew, were more often prone to its numbing affects, and fust worked a lot like alcohol, but without the aggression.
With any luck, she would be able to slip it in the captain’s drink. Then she need only wait.
Caressa undressed, noting exactly how quiet it had become in the chamber. She glanced over her shoulder and thought she heard quick movement. She looked around, acting as though she were taking in the room, and noted the hole in the sea painting by the door. It was tiny, but Caressa had lived in a castle long enough to recognize a peep hole when she saw one. The castle in Magestra was simply littered with them.
Nevertheless, she undressed in the small room, feeling the water with her fingertips and finding it not hot but warm enough. A cloth lay draped over the half-barrel of a bath, and soap had been set out on a stand by the mirror. Aside from that, there was only a bucket for relief and a rack of towels hanging on the opposite wall.
Caressa got right in the water, which came to just above her knees when she crossed them tightly. She found a wooden bowl beside the stand and scooped up water, slowly pouring it over her hair and face, reveling in the soothing effects. For nearly half an hour she poured water over her head and soaked. She washed with the soap, enjoying the scent of jasmine and clover. She made sure not to glance at the dark spot in the painting, and she kept her back to that wall, giving the peeping captain just enough to make her more malleable.
Getting out of the bath, Caressa teasingly covered her backside with a towel just when she knew it would be coming into view above the barrel rim. She turned, bare chested, and pulled the towel up just at the last moment.
She thought that she heard a quick catching of breath and grinned. “Oh, Captain, Captain! Do you have a robe?”
There was the sound of quick footsteps fleeing from the door, and a voice followed, “What did you say?”
Caressa walked to the door and pulled it open. She glanced out and smiled at McArgh, who was trying to appear to be leisurely leaning up against her heavy oak desk that sat before the wide window facing the bow.
“Do you have a robe?”
“I have better than that!” said the captain, suddenly excited. She walked over to the sofa and gathered a thin, lacy garment. “This should do,” she said with a grin.
Caressa glanced at it, chagrined, but took the exotic nightgown nonetheless. She closed the door and set to drying her hair, which, in the humidity of the uncharacteristically hot spring, was a tall order indeed. But she didn’t mind at all. The more time she made McArgh wait, the better.
“You fall in the washtub?” McArgh called a half hour later.
“Just finishing up!” said Caressa, pinching her cheeks and stuffing the fairy dust packet between her perky bosom.
She opened the door and pushed her backside up against the frame. Biting her lip, she ran a hand slowly through her damp hair. Caressa giggled, letting it fall and faking a blush. “I have never been very good at that,” she said, flipping her hair and walking to the table.
Across from her, the captain stood, slack-jawed.
McArgh shook her head and grinned, clucking her tongue approvingly out of the corner of her mouth. “Girl, either you don’t know how sweet you are, or you are the best seductress I have ever met.”
“Oh, but your words are meant for mermaids! What do we have here?” Caressa asked, leaning over the steaming pot on the table just enough to show some alluring cleav
age.
McArgh grinned and pulled the top off the pot with a flourish.
The smell of beef stew wafted up to Caressa’s face, and her mouth watered. Fresh bread there was as well, and even butter.
“Wine?” McArgh asked.
“Please,” said Caressa. She began to pull out her chair, but the surprisingly nimble captain danced around the table and pulled it out for her.
“So kind of you,” said Caressa.
McArgh helped her by smoothing the nightgown on her backside. She leaned in close as the princess sat. “Here, let me butter your bread,” she said, slapping a glop of the golden cream on the bread. She then went about pouring them both a glass of wine.
Seeing her opening, Caressa felt about her neck and acted shocked.
“What is it?”
“My necklace. It was my mother’s; I think I must have left it in the washroom.” She began to get up.
“I’ll get it for you,” said McArgh.
As she walked back to the bathing room, Caressa took the bundle of cloth from her bosom and emptied the fairy dust in the captain’s wine. She glanced up, feeling as though she were being watched, and saw McArgh’s reflection in the mirror sitting beside the desk. The captain wasn’t looking at her, but Caressa couldn’t be sure if she had been.
Could she see what I did from that angle?
“Here you are,” said McArgh as she returned. She placed the necklace on Caressa’s neck and stared at her in the mirror with a small smirk playing at the corner of her mouth.
“Thank you,” said Caressa as the captain clasped the necklace in place and came around the front to inspect its beauty.
“Very nice.”
“Thank you.”
McArgh took up Caressa’s glass and nodded to her own. “A toast,” she said.
Caressa glanced at the poisoned glass. She suddenly bent at the waist, gasping.
McArgh cocked a brow at her.
Beyond the Wide Wall Page 3
