by Simon Archer
“Seems unplanned comes with the territory,” Captain Edison Sloan said with a chuckle. “I did not plan to get recruited for this particular venture, but when the news reached Jetsam shortly after our arrival, I just had to see for myself. Also, don’t worry, the other ships are safe in Jetsam, and those commanders are more than happy to pledge to your cause.”
“And this bluecoat here owed me for turning my healers loose on him,” Sturmgar added. “He was steppin’ through death’s door when his ships straggled into my harbor.”
I eyed the man. Mary had saved his life and patched him up before he’d sailed from the sahagin’s territory, but Sturmgar did love to wax to the dramatic.
“‘Tis a debt I’m happy to pay,” Sloan said with a smile and a nod, then caught my look. “I managed to worsen things, Captain. Your witch did a bang-up job, but I’m not a man to stay abed when there’s work to be done. I managed to reopen some of what she’d closed, let’s say.”
The former Imperial captain made a wry face as I chuckled. Sturmgar just shook his head at our mirth.
“So what brings ye here, Ironhand?” I focused on the lord of Jetsam. “Really.”
“What generally gets my attention, lad.” The old orc chuckled. “Trade an’ war.”
“Trade ain’t exactly my area, Sturmgar, but I’ve people ye can talk to about it. War, though, that be somethin’ I know a bit of,” I said and reached up to tap my nose. It must have been something extremely concerning for my old friend sail out of his hard-won holding.
“I right figured that,” he said and leaned back heavily in the creaking, overstuffed chair.
Captain Sloan eyed the old orc nervously, then looked at me. I just shrugged and asked, “Ye mean the Admiral, don’t ye?”
“Who else holds the biggest fleet in the archipelago?” Sturmgar grumbled. “An’ who else have ye been rilin’ up?”
“Ye’ve had no troubles, have ye?” I asked suddenly. If the Admiral had been making trouble for the free towns and my friends, I’d gather my forces and sail against him right bloody now.
“None,” he replied with a shake of his head. “We ain’t seen an Imperial ship aside from these louts in far too bloody long. They’ve all pulled back to Avion. I’m inclined to believe Old Death’s Head’s ship nears completion, an’ then we all be in for a sea o’ hurt.”
“Then we need to sink the godsdamned thing,” I said firmly. “Ain’t like he’ll give us a choice aside from ‘comply or die.’”
“He may not even give you that option,” Sloan spoke up. He shook his head and looked down at his hands where they rested on his thighs. “The Admiral has gotten much harsher than he used to be, I’ve heard. Word among the officers is that he plans to purge the free towns of possible resistance, and then claim all the wealth of the isles as a tribute to the emperor.”
“Why?” I asked. This was the third or maybe fourth rumor about Layne’s motives. I was inclined to believe what I’d heard from Arde, but he was mad at the time.
The human shrugged. “Maybe so Blackburn will grant him the whole chain as a fiefdom, along with a title. He served under the old emperor and was one of the few survivors of the coup. Perhaps he has an inside line to what the emperor wants.”
“Ye be full o’ hot air, is what,” Sturmgar grumbled. “Layne’s a right vicious bastard, an’ that be enough out here.”
“Perhaps,” Edison said with a shrug, then lapsed into silence.
“Where do the free towns stand?” I asked.
“Most hope to stay unnoticed,” Sturmgar said with a shrug. “Tarrant will fight, same with Jetsam an’ Caber, but we all be so riddled with agents that about all that’ll give us a chance be free cap’ns like ye.” He pointed straight at me and grinned. “Ye be makin’ quite a good impression, lad. Ye not only beat Bloody Bill the Pirate King, but ye killed Commodore Arde.”
“Twice!” Edison added.
I just shook my head. “So ye want me to finish what Layne started, aye?”
“Aye, lad,” Sturmgar replied. “Ye’ve done a bang-up job at it so far, so we be willing to throw in behind ye an’ help.”
“And I mean to sail with you, if that offer still stands,” Sloan chimed in.
“I meant it,” I told him. “I have some things to do with regard to Insmere, but we won’t be long about it. The longer we sit on our arses, the closer The Pale Horse gets to completion.”
“Aye, lad. See to yer people an’ secure yer claim,” Sturmgar said. “Ye know this’ll be the first place Old Death’s Head goes once he be ready to sail, aye?”
“Close as we are to Avion? I’d be a fool not to think that.” I let out a growl as I said that. “I be right surprised he’s not sent ships already.”
“He ain’t going to move ‘til that monster ship o’ his be ready to sail.” Sturmgar dismissed my concern with a wave of his hand. “With his fleet and that damned ship, there be nothing in the islands that can face him. But I do know of something that might give us a fightin’ chance.”
I studied the old orc intently. He was as relaxed as ever, sprawled in his chair. A collar of fur framed his broad, white-bearded face, and he bore a heavy hand-and-a-half sword along with elegantly decorated pistols. Sturmgar was a strong and experienced commander and leader. He’d made the transition from captain to founder and lord mayor of the town of Jetsam with surprising ease. From a humble beginning, he’d built a town that was second only to Tarrant among the free towns, and he’d held it.
If any orc knew the secrets of the Archipelago, it was him.
“I be listening,” I said.
Sturmgar drummed his fingers on his leg and lifted his chin, his eyes taking on a distant look. “I’ll tell ye, lad, but remind me first: Ye have a crew o’ dwarves among yer men, aye?”
That was an odd question. Bord and his team had been a part of my crew for several years, and we’d been a few times to Jetsam.
“Aye,” I replied with a nod. “Bord and his team.”
“I remember them.” He reached up and scratched at his beard, then grinned at me. “Years ago, far to the north, in the icy reaches beyond the reach of Milnest, I served as part o’ a crew that sought salvage from the Wars of Iron an’ Blood. Dwarves, elves, orcs, an’ men, all fighting for their place in the world.”
History wasn’t something I’d studied much, but almost everyone knew about those wars. They ended over a hundred years ago but had lasted for a hundred years at least, until some unknown force or alliance had put an end to them, and all the participants retreated back to their corners. A lot of wealth and salvage languished in the far reaches of the world, along with magic and strange weaponry.
“We sailed north on one of the few remaining icebreaker ships,” Sturmgar continued. “Orcs, dwarves, and men all working together. We were the muscle, of course, and the humans and dwarves led the expedition.” He shrugged and chuckled. “I learned a lot from that crew.”
“Now, the cap’n had a map that led to a frozen island in the sea of ice. There’d been a great naval battle in the area, so we planned to investigate the isle, an’ the dwarves would use their deep dive suits to scour the seabed beneath the ice. It was a good plan.” The old orc returned his gaze to the ceiling. “Too bad that it didn’t account for there bein’ things livin’ under the ice.”
“What sorts of things?” Edison asked suddenly. His eyes were wide with wonder.
“I never bloody saw them,” Sturmgar snapped. “The deep divers didn’t come back. Though we had witches try to find them, we had nothing. The shore crew, though, they had better luck. Iced up in a sea cave, we found a Sea Hammer.”
“A what?” I demanded.
“A dwarven ironclad, boy,” he replied. “A steam-powered ship, sheathed in iron and steel, with fast-firing cannons in movable emplacements that can fire in almost any direction. She was caught fast in the ice, and we had neither the manpower to get her free or the know-how to repair her. If anything could fight The Pale Horse on even gr
ound, ‘twould be a Sea Hammer.” Sturmgar leaned back again and folded his hands over his belly.
Bord would have kittens. Besides, if that ironclad could give us an edge we could use to fight Admiral Layne, then I’d be a fool not to pursue it. I clenched my brows together as I ran over the possibilities in my head. We had capabilities that far exceeded those of a mercenary salvage group with deep-dive suits. Weapons of the ancient war would be a hell of a prize if we could get them.
“Alright, Sturmgar,” I said after a moment’s thought. “What be yer price?”
The old orc laughed and said, “First crack at trade with Insmere an’ the manufactory, boy. I’ve gold enough, an’ my town needs a better supply o’ finished goods.”
I smirked. “Then I be thinkin’ we can do business, old orc.”
“Right, then,” Sturmgar reached into his tunic and drew out an old, verdigris-stained copper tube, sealed at both ends by wax and a screw-on lid. “This be yer map, Bardak. I know ye can find it with that talent o’ yers, so ‘tis best ye take it.”
“Thank ye, Ironhand,” I said as I rose and took the offered tube. “I’ll take ye to the folks ye want to talk trade with. Let me know if they give ye a hard time.”
“O’ course, lad,” he boomed and clapped me on the shoulder across the desk. “Promise me one thing, though.”
“What be that?”
“If ye manage to get that Sea Hammer sailin’ again, I want ye to bring her by Jetsam, an’ I want to sail with ye on her against The Pale Horse. Give me yer word, Cap’n.”
“Consider it given,” I replied, then spat in my right hand and held it out to old mentor and friend.
He laughed, I did the same, and we clasped hands. One more adventure was done, and another was about to begin.
The orc pirate was coming, Admiral, and he was bringing everything he bloody had.
39
Justin Layne
“ P erhaps you can explain what happened, Lack,” I said softly, my eyes focused on the black-robed form of the sorcerer. My left hand toyed with the carven silver ring on my right ring finger. He stood before my desk, hood shadowing all by the pale skin of his chin and thin lips.
Marai Bloddwenn stood off to the side in silence, awaiting my word. Perhaps I’d not need her, but it always paid to have assistance within easy reach.
“Sebastian Arde was as much a failure in death as he was in life,” Lack grated. “Bonding Rhianne Corvis with him was an error and one I intend to rectify.”
“How?” I asked. “According to Marai, the orc controls her now.”
“I will unmake her,” he replied and lifted his head so that his glowing eyes met mine. “This clay was imperfect, Master. It shall be recycled.”
I nodded slowly. It was not Lack that failed me, but Arde. The dark sorcerer had done no more and no less than what I’d asked of him. That thought brought a deeper scowl to my face. Any of my other minions would be quivering in terror right now, but not Lack and not Bloddwenn.
They were too valuable to me, and unfortunately, they were aware of it. How happy I would be on the day that I could be rid of both of them.
“See that you do, creature,” I said levelly, then steepled my fingers and looked from the witch to the sorcerer. “Could either of you tell me how this one accursed greenskin has been able to not only kill Commodore Arde but also beat us to that sunken ship with all of the magical artifacts of the old Emperor?”
“He grows in power, my lord,” Marai answered. “As do those with him. There is something about--”
“There is nothing!” I spat, raising my voice for the first time since the conversation began. “You both said that he would fail. You, Lack, said that Arde and the ghost ship would end the orc pirate, while you, Marai, said that my ships would capture Eustace Brill and reach The Golden Bull with plenty of time to recover the Black Mirror.”
I did not reign in my anger as I continued. “Instead, not only do you tell me that my ships failed, but that somehow, Bardak not only defeated a lascu, a settlement of sahagin, and raised the sunken ship to the surface in order to loot the whole bloody thing.”
I settled back in my chair and took a deep breath. Nothing angered me so much as failure, and losing twice to this orc on my own turf, so to speak, had me in a rage. I turned and focused on Marai.
“You, foreseer, will watch him and warn me when he sets out to challenge me. I care not how many sacrifices you require. Lure in more witches from the Sisterhood if you must, but get me results.”
“Yes, Master.” She bowed her head.
Then, I turned my gaze on Lack. “You, creature, will retrieve the Mirror and the changeling witch. I care not how, nor how many dead you leave in your wake. We need her and the Black Mirror to truly bring my Pale Horse to life, as you promised.”
My voice dropped dangerously low. “I grow tired of disappointment, and I grow tired of waiting. She is almost ready to sail, but to achieve her true ascension, I. Need. Those. Things.”
“Your wish, Master, is my command,” Lack said with a bow. “Shall I begin?”
“Yes. Go.” I gave him a dismissive wave.
He bowed again and whispered something. The shadows drew in around him, and then, just like that, he was gone.
I rubbed idly at my ring. That was the key to my power over the creature known as Lack. He was as far beyond being a common sorcerer as The Pale Horse was beyond a common sloop. Lack wasn’t human, but he was bound to the ancient silver ring, and so long as I wore it, my every wish was a command to the strange creature.
That left Marai. The witch slipped over and knelt on the rug beside me to gaze up at me with her deep, purple eyes. She boldly placed one of her milk-white hands on my knee.
I allowed it, though I met her gaze. “I am displeased, my witch,” I said flatly.
“I know, my lord,” she said. “This, too, shall pass.”
“Shall it?” I said, still holding the bland tone that I’d returned to. “I am not so certain that your predictions ring true anymore, witch.”
“I report to you what I see, my lord, and I only see so far ahead and only so many possibilities.” Her tone drifted towards pleading, and I reached over and placed my right hand on her head. The soft, fine hair sent a faint tingle through my fingers.
Sexual desire held no interest for me anymore, but there were other sensations that I felt were even sweeter. My fingertips were quite sensitive, and I could actually detect the differences between individual hairs on the woman’s head. She thought to tease or entice me frequently, but that always ended in disappointment for it.
This, though, was a welcome distraction, much like petting a cat.
“Can The Pale Horse be awakened without the Mirror?” I wondered aloud.
Marai stiffened, and I could feel her tremble, just for a moment. “Perhaps it can. The sacrifice would be far more terrible than if we used Mary Night’s changeling blood to set the Black Mirror as the ship’s heart.”
“Prepare for it,” I told her. “Should Lack fail to retrieve the necessary items, I need an alternative ready.”
“Of course,” she said, and a faint smile tugged at her colorless lips.
“Will it be of lesser strength?” I asked.
“No, master.” She shook her head. “Though she may be harder to control.”
“See that she is not,” I told her.
“Yes, master.” She quivered a bit as I took away my hand, then rose reluctantly.
When I ignored her, she slipped out and left me alone with my thoughts. I stared down at the green blotter that protected the dark finish of my desk.
Bardak Skullsplitter, I thought. Such an inelegant name for such a bestial creature. Despite that truth, he had beaten my best, overcome the traps that had been set for him, and now, he had set up shop on my very doorstep.
That was soon to change.
Soon, my ship would be finished, and nothing would be able to stop me from taking control of the Archipelago.
> That was how it should be, but I was learning that where the damned orc pirate was concerned, all probability seemed to break down. I doubted that he could stop me, but I couldn’t help a tiny dark thought that wondered if maybe he could.
It was time for me to take the field, one way or another.
A Note from the Author
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