Where Loyalties Lie (Best Laid Plans Book 1)
Page 1
Contents
Fortune
Chapter 1 - The Phoenix
Chapter 2 - Fortune
Chapter 3 - The Phoenix
Chapter 4 - Fortune
Chapter 5 - The Phoenix
Chapter 6 - Fortune
Chapter 7 - The Phoenix
Chapter 8 - The Phoenix
Chapter 9 - Fortune
Chapter 10 - The Phoenix
Chapter 11 - The Phoenix
Chapter 12 - Fortune
Chapter 13 - The Phoenix
Chapter 14 - Fortune
Chapter 15 - The Phoenix
Chapter 16 - Fortune
Chapter 17 - The Black Death
Chapter 18 - Starry Dawn
Chapter 19 - The Phoenix
Chapter 20 - Fortune
Chapter 21 - Starry Dawn
Chapter 22 - The Phoenix
Chapter 23 - Fortune
Chapter 24 - The Phoenix
Chapter 25 - Fortune
Chapter 26 - The Phoenix
Chapter 27 - Fortune
Chapter 28 - Starry Dawn
Chapter 29 - The Phoenix
Chapter 30 - Starry Dawn
Chapter 31 - The Phoenix
Chapter 32 - Fortune
Chapter 33 - The Phoenix
Chapter 34 - Starry Dawn
Chapter 35 - The Phoenix
Chapter 36 - Fortune
Chapter 37 - Mary’s Virtue
Chapter 38 - Fortune
Chapter 39 - Fortune
Chapter 40 - Fortune
Chapter 41 - The Phoenix
Chapter 42 - Starry Dawn
Chapter 43 - Starry Dawn
Chapter 44 - Fortune
Chapter 45 - Starry Dawn
Chapter 46 - The Phoenix
Chapter 47 - Fortune
Chapter 48 - North Gale
Chapter 49 - Fortune
Chapter 50 - North Gale
Chapter 51 - The Phoenix
Chapter 52 - Mary’s Virtue
Chapter 53 - North Gale
Chapter 54 - Fortune
Chapter 55 - North Gale
Chapter 56 - The Phoenix
Chapter 57 - Fortune
Epilogue
Where Loyalties Lie
(Book 1 of Best Laid Plans)
by
Rob J. Hayes
For always heeding the call to Suit Up, I would like to thank my Alpha Team:
Mihir Wanchoo, Rhian Galea, Vicki Orton, and Charles Phipps
Copyright ©2017 by Rob J. Hayes
(http://www.robjhayes.co.uk)
Cover image ©2016 by Alex Raspad
Cover design by Shawn King
Edited by Toby Selwyn
All rights reserved.
Fortune
Black Sands burned and the fire danced in Drake’s eyes. It wasn’t the first town he’d seen disappear in the way of smoke and ash, and by the time his plan was complete it sure as all the Hells wouldn’t be the last.
The flames eagerly consumed everything they touched, racing from the dark, sandy beach to the nearby encroaching jungle. Great plumes of black smoke billowed up into the sky, where they blotted out the twinkling stars.
It was a grim day for the pirates of the isles, but a glorious night for Captain Drake Morrass. The rest of his crew were witnessing the deaths of hundreds and the extermination of one of the few safe havens left for scoundrels like themselves. Drake was witnessing the birth of an empire. His empire.
A single dinghy crewed by eleven men rowed back to the Fortune. Ashore, the Werry Meather, Black Sands’ largest building and only tavern, collapsed in upon itself. Even from out in the bay, all of the crew heard the crack as the final supporting beam gave way. There was a long moment’s silence from the crew; every one of them had been drunk and worse than drunk in that tavern. Drake would miss the place and no mistake, but there were plenty of places to buy grog and he wasn’t about to shed a tear over the loss of one. Besides, it was taking every ounce of control he had not to grin at his good fortune.
The dinghy bumped against the hull of the Fortune and the silence was broken as pirates leapt to their work, knowing better than to slack. Ropes were lowered and secured, men scrabbled on board, and in a short time the dinghy was no longer in the water but on its way to the deck of Drake’s ship.
A single man approached the foredeck, where Drake stood in a bubble of isolation. Weather-beaten skin, long lank hair, and a gaunt complexion made plain the pirate’s long experience on the sea. He was, if anything, slightly older than Drake, and looked every year of it.
“What’s the news ashore, Princess?” Drake said.
“Town’s on fire,” his first mate replied casually.
“No, you don’t say.” Drake let slip a brief grin, but quickly removed it lest any of his crew noticed. “Any survivors?”
“Not a single one. Seems those bastards wanted ta be, what ya call it, thorough.”
“Did you happen to witness who committed this terrible tragedy?”
Princess nodded; a loose clump of hair flapped in front of his face, and he tucked the errant strands back behind his ears. “Jus’ so happens I took a few of the boys to check on the other side of the island, Cap’n. Would you believe it, there was one of them nice new Sarth navy ships jus’ setting course away from the deed.”
“Good. Make sure the whole crew know about that, Princess. Wouldn’t want anyone missing out on such a vital piece of the puzzle. We’ll set course for Port Sev’relain come first light, and I want the whole crew talking about nothing else.”
“Right y’are, Cap’n.” Princess turned and walked away, leaving Drake alone once again on the foredeck.
He stood there for a while, watching the town burn. “Break out one of the barrels of rum, boys. I want everyone to have a drink for Black Sands. Then I want everyone to have a drink to never letting those bastards do it again.”
His crew cheered, their sombre mood replaced with a rowdier, more vicious temperament better suited to pirates. But his crew were the easy marks. The real test would come in recruiting the other captains.
Part 1 – Before the Storm
Stillwater said the Oracle
You’re fucking joking said Drake
I’m not said the Oracle
Shit said Drake
Chapter 1 - The Phoenix
“She doesn’t look like much,” Keelin Stillwater said, peering through the monoscope. It was the only artefact of his old life he still kept; all the rest had been lost to either fire, the sea, or the debt collectors.
Next to Keelin, his first mate, Yanic Bo’larn, peered out across the open ocean. “She looks to be riding low.”
“How could you possibly tell from here?” Keelin said. Without the use of the monoscope the ship on the horizon was barely more than a speck.
“Good eyes,” Yanic said, with a nod that made his hangdog expression seem utterly serious. “My ma always fed me plenty o’ greens. Gave me the eyes of a hawk.”
Keelin lowered the monoscope from his eye and glared at his first mate with such severity that any other member of the crew would likely have fled; Yanic, however, just smiled. “Last week you told me you were orphaned at the age of four and never knew your parents.”
“Boggles the mind some, don’t it,” Yanic said seriously.
Keelin laughed and returned his attention to the ship in question. “You’re not wrong though. She is sailing low.”
“Full hold, I reckons.”
“Full of what though?” Keelin mused. “She doesn’t look like a slaver.”
“Could be gold.”
“Could be stone
.”
“Stone sells.”
“Not for much.”
“We’d get more for stone than we will for nothin’. Hold’s looking a little empty, Cap’n.”
“And who would we sell this stone to?”
“Stonemason?”
“You know any?”
“No,” Yanic admitted solemnly before his face broke into a grin. “But I reckon Quartermain does.”
Keelin considered the situation carefully for a few more minutes. He’d already made the decision, but it did his crew good to wait on the captain’s pleasure. Yanic looked just about on the verge of mutiny when Keelin finally gave voice to his decision.
“Aye, let’s do it. Pile on sail and change course to intercept. Wake all hands and chase Lumpy into my cabin. We don’t want the mangy cur attempting to jump ship again. Oh, and fly the colours…”
“So soon, Cap’n?” Yanic sounded sceptical.
“Might as well make some sport out of it.” Keelin grinned wide, showing plenty of teeth, and Yanic returned the grin for just a moment before turning and bellowing the captain’s orders to the rest of the crew.
The Phoenix couldn’t claim to be the fastest ship on the seas, but she flew through the water with even the barest breath of wind, and they had more than that as they chased down the heavily laden fluyt. Keelin watched through his monoscope with a smile as their quarry attempted to increase its speed by piling on more sail. They bought themselves a little longer, though nothing more. Before long The Phoenix was alongside the other vessel, and Keelin could see its small complement of crew spread out along the railing with all manner of weaponry, from swords to axes, to crude knives clearly fashioned out of whatever happened to be lying around.
“Ho there,” Keelin shouted to the other ship, pitching his voice to carry across the water between them. “Quite a force you have arrayed against us, mate.”
Some foolish soul on the fluyt loosed an arrow in Keelin’s direction. The shaft flew high and wide and completed its flight somewhere in the depths of the ocean. Some of the crew of The Phoenix bristled, but most just laughed away the impotent attempt at defence.
“Now now,” Keelin shouted. “No need to get all violent. You boys start shooting arrows, then my boys start shooting arrows, and before long we’ll have plenty of folk hurt or dead, and out here the one’s often very much the same as the other. So how’s about you lot do the clever thing and settle down, drop those nasty sharp objects into the blue, and let me and mine come aboard. We’ll see what you got worth taking and let you be on your way in just a spell. No violence, no blood, no dying. Good?”
One of the crew aboard the fluyt pushed his way past another man and raised his voice. “You promise you won’t kill any of us?”
Keelin let out a loud laugh and many of his crew joined in. “No,” he said with a wide grin. “But it may be you’re missing the point behind pirating. We’re looking to take what ain’t ours and what can be sold for a profit. Ain’t no profit in taking lives, far as I can see. They don’t tend to be worth much after the taking.”
The captain of the fluyt looked on the verge of resisting; his crew did not.
In Keelin’s experience most pirating could be accomplished with minimal to no bloodshed. Most sailors wanted no part in a fight and knew full well they couldn’t win against a determined pirate force. They were, after all, there to sail and get paid, not to fight. Captains were often a different matter; losing a cargo could ruin them, and many were willing to fight, even to the death, to avoid that. Of course, not all pirates agreed with Keelin over the matter; there were many who relished the fight and would board a ship and slaughter the crew even after the ship’s surrender.
The captain of the fluyt drew an old sabre from his belt and dropped it over the side of his ship, and within moments his crew were following suit. “OK,” the captain shouted. “Come aboard then.”
It took only a couple of hours to loot the surrendered vessel. They took a selection of the cargo that Morley, the quartermaster, determined could be sold for a profit, but Keelin was wary not to laden The Phoenix too much in case another opportunity for piracy presented itself. They also took a good portion of the fluyt’s remaining food and all the remaining rum. If Keelin had learned one thing in his decade of pirating, it was to keep the crew happy with the occasional, but generous, portion of rum.
“Good doing business with you,” Keelin shouted as the fluyt got under way, significantly lighter for her brief stop. “Do stop by again.”
The other captain shot Keelin a baleful glare over the widening stretch of water. Keelin smiled back.
“Where to, Cap’n?” Yanic asked from Keelin’s side.
“Port Sev’relain is closest.”
Yanic sucked at his teeth and spat over the side of the boat.
“Out with it, mate.”
“Quartermain will give us a better price on the spices.”
“I’d really rather not run into Tanner,” Keelin said with a heavy sigh.
“You and me both, Cap’n. Reckon the entire crew is behind ya on that one. Still, better price.”
Keelin was silent for a while, weighing up the risk of running into Tanner Black versus the reward of cold hard coin. Greed won out. “Set course for Fango.”
Chapter 2 - Fortune
“No wonder the bastards are attacking us,” Princess said loudly to the group of pirates who had gathered near him. “Ya ever seen so many bloody pirates?”
“How many ships is that, Princess?” asked Kerry.
“Eight in all. Five flying colours, and three look ta be merchants. Reckon they’d be Loke’s ships.”
Loke owned near most of Port Sev’relain, and he was the only reason the little town had grown as large as it had. He was a middle man, a merchant who purchased from the local pirates of the isles and then transported those goods on to cities that could use them better. By all accounts Loke made more than his fair share of profit from the illegal endeavour.
Port Sev’relain had grown from a couple of warehouses with a single jetty to a thriving little town complete with moorings for ten large vessels. It now sported no fewer than three taverns and two brothels, and housed a stable population in the hundreds. That population swelled whenever pirate vessels were in the area, and these days there were always a few.
“See anyone we know?” Drake asked, stalking up to the railing to stand next to his first mate. Some of the crew, those with jobs they ought to be doing, took the opportunity to slink away, but just as many stood proud beside their infamous captain.
“Looks like the Mary’s Virtue over there, Cap’n,” said Princess with a grin. “Reckon we might have to put up with Poole.”
Drake laughed. “Fucking wonderful. I look forward to hearing once again how he’s the only born and bred pirate left in these waters. Anyone else?”
Princess shook his head. “All look a bit new, truth be told, Cap’n.”
A couple of skiffs were being rowed towards the Fortune from the shore. They would tow the bigger ship into port. Drake started towards the aft deck, leaving Princess no choice but to hurry after him.
“Any issues?” Drake leapt down the five feet from the aft deck to the main deck.
“Well, there’s the repairs,” Princess said hesitantly. “Looked over it my own self and reckon we’ll need a week in port with the shipwrights to get her squared away good and proper.”
“A whole week? We haven’t got time to be sitting on our arses for a week, Princess. Besides, the crew will pickle themselves with that much free time. Buy whoever you need and get it done in three days.”
“Can’t be done, Cap’n.”
Drake rounded on his first mate just before they reached the ladder to the aft deck. He didn’t look angry so much as really displeased. Princess would have preferred anger. Anger was predictable, displeasure could go either way, and it was the uncertainty Princess hated most.
“Might be able to push for five days, but a couple of tho
se ships at port look to be taking repairs already. We’ll have to…”
“Do it! Any of the other captains make waves, I’ll deal with them my fucking self. Five days, Princess. Anything else?”
Drake turned again and started up the ladder. Princess scratched at the back of his neck before continuing. “We got rats.”
“There ain’t a ship built don’t have rats.”
“Yeah, well ours are as big as my foot and they’ve been getting into the food, making a mess of things. Need to do something about it or next time we set out might be we got sickness to deal with as well as those navy ships. Problem is, ever since Zothus took the Bride for his own ship and Rhi went with him… well, there ain’t anything hunting the bloody rats no more, Cap’n. We need a cat.”
“No,” Drake stated firmly as he shooed Joelin away from the wheel and took hold of it himself. There wasn’t really much steering to do at the moment, but Princess had to admit the captain cut a right striking figure doing it, and that was maybe the point. “Might be this has escaped your notice, Princess, but I am Drake Morrass and this ship is the Fortune. Now the last little predator we had on board was a big fucking spider, struck fear into the hearts of men and all that. I can’t go back and just have a cat on board. Get me something – I don’t know – more monstruous.”
“More monstruous than a cat?”
“More monstruous than a giant spider.”
Princess knew his mouth was hanging open, but at that moment he was finding it more than a little difficult to remember how to close it. A stern glare from Drake soon fixed that malady, and Princess nodded his affirmation before scuttling off to lament ever being made first mate.
No sooner had Drake’s recently polished and gloriously buckled boots touched the ground than all sorts of people wanted a piece of him. Some folks shouted offers for any wares the Fortune might be carrying while others offered services either to him, the ship, or the crew, and some just stood around watching, no doubt hoping to get a glimpse of a legend. Drake was more than willing to accommodate that last desire.