Dark Empress

by S. J. A. Turney

  Samir nodded his understanding.

  “My offer will remain open should you ever wish to find me.”

  He noted the pirates edging closer, waiting respectfully to take Ghassan to his men. With a sigh, he turned away but, as he did, Ghassan grasped his arm.

  “Don’t take your eye off Asima, brother. Do not believe a word that falls from her mouth. She is not the girl we loved. She has changed immeasurably and, I think, would sell both you and I for animal food if it got her something she wanted. She came damn close to destroying my ship before you even turned up. She’ll play you and do the same to the Empress unless you keep her confined.”

  Samir stopped and shook his head gently.

  “I won’t lock her up, Ghassan; not yet. She’s not done anything to me yet. But I can see something in her that I don’t like. Would you care to tell me the truth about what happened?”

  Ghassan shrugged.

  “It makes no difference. Just don’t trust her. Get rid of her as soon as you can, for the sake of yourself, your ship, and your men.”

  Samir watched sadly as his tall, proud brother turned and offered his hands, open and palms up, to the pirate captors. Shaking his head, Samir turned and re-entered his cabin, closing the door on his brother, the crew of the Wind of God and any hope, for now, of reconciliation.

  Asima was huddled in her damp clothes by the table on a low bench, a goblet of strong wine clutched tightly in her hands. Samir nodded to himself and walked past her to retake his seat.

  “Is there anything you would like to tell me, Asima?”

  She blinked, caught by surprise and Samir was satisfied to notice her guard fall for just a fraction of a second. Asima may be good enough to hoodwink the straight-laced Ghassan for a time, but Samir could see how her façade was built and how to cause it to crack so that he could see past it to the real woman beneath. He was genuinely saddened to see what had become of his erstwhile friend.

  “Oh it was horrible, Samir” she sobbed. “I was a captive in Pelasia where the prince hated me. I think it must have been him, when he became king, that persuaded the governor and the military to send me to exile with some unknown master.”

  Samir’s expression remained straight and unreadable.

  “Hmm. Well, rest assured that I have no intention of taking this ship anywhere near Velutio or even Calphoris.”

  Asima gave a little sniffle and threw him a weak, mousey smile.

  “Thank you, dear Samir. Will you leave me in M’Dahz alone or will you come back with me?”

  The captain of the Empress gave a light laugh.

  “M’Dahz?”

  He stood, a smile plastered across his face.

  “I’m not taking you to M’Dahz, Asima. The next few weeks are going to be a little hot for us around the coast. As soon as the crew of the Wind of God reach any town, you’d be amazed at the speed the news of our victory will spread. Every naval ship afloat, Imperial or Pelasian, along with half of the mercenary warships out there, will all be looking for me.”

  He laughed.

  “I just sank a legend, Asima. There will be nowhere safe for me for weeks.”

  The woman by the table frowned.

  “Then what do you intend?”

  “Well, I shall have to take you back to Lassos and show you the delights of the pirate island, won’t I, Asima?”

  She stared at him and he was heartened to see anger and astonishment battling for control of her expression.

  “You what?” she screeched.

  “Yes, I thought that might bring about an interesting reaction.”

  Asima glared at him.

  “I have no more intention of spending my life wallowing in the septic pit of a pirate hole than I do of accepting exile in Velutio. You save me from one hell only to deliver me somewhere worse?”

  Samir’s smile was irritating her more than she could bear.

  “Just drop me on an island somewhere with fishermen and I shall make my own way back, then.”

  “Hardly, Asima. You are coming with me. You may be able to play Ghassan with your little games, but I am a match for you, Asima, and you know it. Accept the situation and make the best of it. I have my plans, do not worry.”

  Asima fell silent, her glower almost burning into him.

  Samir laughed out loud.

  “Now are you going to be good, or shall I take Ghassan’s advice and have you manacled to the hull now and save a lot of time?”

  Slowly, quietly, Asima’s breathing slowed and the fire in her eyes receded.

  “Lassos then, for now. But be sure, Samir, that I am your passenger and not your prisoner.”

  The captain nodded.

  We shall see, Asima… we shall see.

  In which Asima’s beliefs are shaken

  Asima, still glowering after days on board, had settled into her solitary life, keeping herself away from the sweaty, coarse crew, and equally from Samir who seemed to have the uncanny ability to look straight into her mind. She had experimented, on the first day after Ghassan and his crew had been set adrift, with minor issues of rebellion and inconvenience.

  The crew had seemed to be aware of her location and her activity at all times and the knife she had secreted in the dining hall had seen her escorted to Samir’s cabin, where he had firmly, but gently, removed it from her and confiscated it. Sailors had stepped up to block her passage to parts of the ship they thought she had no business in. She had tried tantrums, tears and even seduction, all to no avail. In the end, she had resigned herself to making do with her situation until her range of options expanded.

  And now, days later, she had at least managed to drum up enough interest in this legendary island to sit in the bow and watch as the landmass approached.

  Lassos made the mind reel.

  Used to the mainland shores, with their brown dust, heat haze and low rocks, the pirate island seemed alien and strange to Asima. At first sight it had seemed as though a cloud had settled on the water, wearing a dark, shiny skullcap. Closer to, the island was only two miles across at most and consisted almost entirely of precipitous mountain in green and grey. The whole place was enveloped in a thick fog that settled on the water and rose to cover the lower half of the island.

  Asima could quite understand that on a day with fog any heavier than this, the entire island could well become invisible and that settled a nagging worry in Asima. Her life had taught her many things, but one of the foremost tenets around which she now lived was a total denial of Gods, magic, fate and anything she could not see, touch or manipulate. Even the idea that something was beyond her control unnerved her, let alone something beyond her understanding. Yes, obviously the legends of this mysterious hidden and vanishing island had been borne from the thick enveloping fog that obscured the land unless one was actively seeking it.

  And yet, something about the fog still unnerved her.

  The ship slowed considerably as they neared the edge of the white blanket that shrouded their destination in damp silence and Asima saw the rocks for the first time.

  Rising like jagged and broken fangs from the mist, the glistening black rocks took on a wicked, almost supernatural aspect. The first glimpse was impressive, but a truly breathtaking effect was afforded as the ship first entered the enveloping white. The cloying silence fell over the vessel, muting everything bar the occasional creak and groan of the ship and its rigging; even the crew worked silently. As the prow pushed into the eerie nothingness, it became evident that the reefs that surrounded Lassos were more than the occasional jagged spike. They thickened rapidly, creating a carpet of teeth rising from the dark water in an almost impassable pattern.

  Asima drew a sharp breath. She’d had virtually no experience of sailing, despite having spent her entire life by the sea in one place or another, but a single glance at those reefs revealed no safe route between the shards. There was quite simply no hope of passing them, surely. She turned to examine the faces of the men on board. Each expression was one
of intense concentration. She noted with fascination that few of the crew looked out at the rocks, keeping their attention locked on their work aboard.

  Why would…

  Asima blinked and touched her arm in disbelief. Surely this must be some kind of dream?

  The closest rock, standing proud of the water, was now home to a figure in wet, grey, ragged robes. As she watched, stunned and vaguely frightened, the sleeves of the robe fell back and two thin, rubbery grey arms reached out imploringly toward the ship. The head rose slightly and two glistening eyes, reminding her of pools of water in the dark of the night, peered out from beneath the dripping hem.

  Without intending to, Asima had taken two paces back, away from the railing.

  Other figures swam into focus as she watched. One moment they weren’t there and the rocks were bare; the next, ragged, wet, grey figures pleaded with her to do something about their horrifying condition.

  Her initial shock quickly faded, however. Others, with deeply superstitious minds, may be paralysed with fright, but Asima was made of sterner stuff. Putting aside the natural fear of the unknown, she concentrated on the important things. It was curious… she never saw a figure appear. If she looked at a rock and then looked away and back, there would be a figure on it. But if she concentrated on a rock, nothing happened while she watched.

  They could, of course, be some sort of illusion, but that would have to be something that affected everyone, given the reactions of the other sailors, and such a thing was unheard of.

  The ship creaked on slowly and, as she watched, Asima realised that there was a channel through the rocks; hidden, complex and almost too narrow to possibly fit a ship through. The rocks with their eerie occupants came closer and ever closer.

  No. Not an illusion. It couldn’t be in her mind, since it was in everyone else’s. Also, given the fact that the figures cast shadows on the rocks and the lapping waves plastered their robes to their ankles, they were solid. They were real. The reefs of the dead, she’d heard them called. But the dead didn’t stand up or plead; the dead were lifeless husks returning slowly to the earth. So these were clearly something different that had never been encountered anywhere else and could not yet be adequately explained.

  Satisfied with her more rational explanation, and with several minutes to go before the island would be in sight, she turned her attention to the ship itself. The sailors were busy about their tasks, bathed in the eerie silence. The officers…

  Interestingly, it appeared that the crew had abandoned the raised command deck to the rear, leaving Samir alone with his first officer. Asima smiled to herself. Samir would be too busy with these rocks to spare time to drive her away. Taking a deep breath, she strode along the deck, paying no heed to the desperate grey figures reaching out to her as they passed.

  A couple of the men glanced at her in mild surprise as she passed, though none made a move to stop her until she reached the ladder. She placed her foot on the first rung and a shadow fell across her. Looking up, she saw the shaved and tattooed head of the first officer as he leaned over the ladder from the upper deck.

  “Top deck’s off limits ta passengers, miss.”

  Asima smiled coldly.

  “Unless you intend to physically assault me, step out of the way, you painted donkey.”

  The man blinked, clearly taken aback, and Asima continued to climb. From somewhere above, she heard Samir’s voice.

  “Let her up, Ursa. She’s a special case.”

  The huge pirate, clearly irritated at this infraction of the rules, stepped aside and glared at her as she reached the top and stepped out on to the command deck.

  “It’s alright, Ursa. I’ll be fine. Go deal with the men.”

  Again, the second in command grumbled in disapproval and threw an unpleasant look at her before taking the ladder down to the main deck.

  “Come, Asima. I’m sure you’ll be fascinated.”

  Frowning, she approached the rear. Samir was directing the ship with infinitesimally small nudges of the huge rudder, and yet his eyes were affixed on the object in his hands, paying no attention to the ship or its surroundings at all.

  “What is that?” she asked, pointing at the object he held.

  He smiled and, as she approached, angled it slightly so that she could see clearly.

  “This is one of the biggest secrets in the world, Asima.”

  In his hands rested a bronze disk, around eight inches across, a flattened container with delicate and smooth glass on the upper surface. Inside, on a central pin, free to spin this way and that, was a human finger, dead and grey, but perfectly preserved within the case. Asima blinked.

  “A finger. Your big secret is a finger? For this you keep your crew off the command deck.”

  Samir shrugged.

  “Its part of the rules laid down by the council of twelve. Only the captain and his first officer are supposed to know about the ‘dead man’s compass’. I trust my crew implicitly, but rules are rules. On some level, Ghassan was right. Without any rules there would be complete chaos. Even pirates need laws, Asima.”

  “And this rotting digit helps you sail?”

  Samir grinned.

  “This is an almost unique thing. Don’t ask me how it works, though. I’ve asked the cleverest people and studied it for a long time, and there’s no reason I can see for it to work. But it does work; the dead man’s compass shows me the route… I just align the rudder with this fellow’s finger and off we go. I’ve never seen it fail.”

  “Drivel.”

  Samir laughed.

  “Somehow I thought you might see it like that. But there are unexplainable things, Asima. Have you given up trying to memorize the route through the rocks now then? I presume that was your reason for sitting in the prow. I did that the first few times.”

  Asima glared at him.

  “The path is fairly clear, if narrow. Let’s face it, Samir, as long as I note where the entrance to the passage is, I’d be able to navigate my way out.”

  She eyed him slyly.

  “Should I wish to leave, of course, that is. But then, you’ll be taking me home soon when the sea is safe, so I have no reason to leave at the moment. Nice to know that I can, though; gives me a certain sense of security.”

  Samir laughed.

  “Is that right?”

  The woman beside him frowned.

  “You’ll not break your word and keep me captive?”

  Again, the captain laughed.

  “That’s not what I mean, Asima. I mean, are you so convinced of your ability to navigate the reefs without the compass?”

  Asima shrugged.

  “Hardly troublesome, particularly with a smaller vessel.”

  Grinning like a naughty schoolboy, Samir pointed out over the rear rail, past the stern. Asima raised her eyes and followed his gesture.

  Behind the vessel, a jagged carpet of impassable rocks jutted from the waves in every direction. Pleading grey figures occupied many of them, calling out silently to her. Asima frowned.

  “How is that possible?”

  “It’s not.”

  Again, Samir laughed lightly.

  “Not everything has an explanation Asima and, since there are only two of these compasses in existence, shared by the pirate captains of Lassos, the island remains about as safe as it’s possible for a haven to be. We could be found, but never captured, you see. And don’t bother trying to track one of the rocks from the front of the ship to the back as we travel either. I’ve tried and failed many times. If you follow along the rail and try, it gives you an intense headache.”

  His passenger’s frown deepened as she looked back and forth between the rocks behind and the compass in his hand.

  “And now you must keep me prisoner on Lassos, or kill me.”

  “I hardly think so, Asima.”

  “But you have told me and showed me your great secret. You have broken your own law. Even if you feel like flaunting the rules, I doubt your peers on
the island will see things the same way.”

  Samir shrugged nonchalantly.

  “Only a few of us know that you know. Frankly, taking you to Lassos at all is going to cause havoc with the council, but they need a little shake up every now and then. You would be best to keep your mouth shut while on the island. I will not kill you, but many would just for knowing some of the things you do, so be careful with your mouth. As for when we leave here… well, let’s say that I’m not telling you all of this on a whim. I have my reasons.”

  Asima pursed her lips as she took this in.

  “Very well, captain Samir. What do we do now?”

  He smiled.

  “We’re almost through the rocks. Then we dock in Lassos. I will have to report to the council and present you, then I and my crew go about our business. You, on the other hand, will stay on board the ship until I say otherwise. If you do go ashore, you will wait for me or Ursa and go with us.”

  Asima frowned.

  “Explain?”

  “There are a number of very unfriendly individuals on Lassos. Most of my peers are not the gentlemen that I am. For your own safety I would advise extreme caution, but equally, you are my passenger, not my prisoner. You are free to explore the island in the brief time we will have there, but I recommend against it.”

  He cleared his throat.

  “Lassos can be a very dangerous place.”