The Colour of Vengeance

by Rob J. Hayes

  Betrim let out a growl but admitted the captain probably knew best. He joined the others down on the quarter deck.

  “Weapons down. We’re not fightin’ this one,” he ordered.

  “Uh, boss…” Anders started but Joan cut him off.

  “I ain’t gonna go quietly to a watery grave, Thorn,” Joan said. “That ain’t any sort of death I want.”

  Betrim shook his head. “Captain reckons if we jus’ hand over the ship’s cargo these pirates will let us be on our way. Also says if we fight we’re on our own. Don’t much like those odds, Joan. Thirty against… how many folk can ya fit on a ship that size?”

  “Lots,” Six-Cities Ben said.

  Joan grumbled but agreed and ordered his hunters not to draw weapons and Bones gave the same order to his own men. Henry was a much harder sell but eventually Betrim convinced her it was better to surrender and live to fight another day. They were so close to Chade and yet so far away.

  When the pirates came they came in numbers. The pirate ship sailed up alongside them and skiffs were launched. Some of the bolder pirates swung across on ropes tied to the masts but they found no resistance when they arrived. The sailors crowded onto the poop deck and made no signs of moving while the captain joined Betrim and the others on the quarterdeck before hissing at Betrim to keep his people under control.

  Pirates surrounded them, pointing sharp swords and making whooping noises. It almost felt like they were trying to goad the crew into a fight but Betrim kept quiet, kept calm. Some of the pirates disappeared below decks, no doubt checking the cargo and personal belongings for any valuables.

  “What have we ‘ere?” asked a bald man with an intricate tattoo of a serpent curling around his neck and jaw. “Looks like a right tough bunch of folk.”

  The captain waved Betrim to silence and took a step forward. “Passengers is all. Mercs on their way to Chade.”

  “Mercs is it?” the bald man asked with a smile. He wore a tight leather jerkin over his torso but it was clearly meant for a smaller man and he had a long, curved scimitar buckled to his belt. As Betrim watched a thick, furry, segmented leg just longer than his own forearm reached up from behind the man and attached itself to his shoulder. Then another leg appeared, and another, and another, and another, then the head of the creature. Betrim had never seen its like before, it was a spider, like those he’d seen in the wilds but it was as big as a particularly fat cat. It had a compact pale-green body with two huge fangs and four jet black eyes, almost as large as a child’s fist, set above them and another four eyes set to the sides of its head. To say Betrim felt unnerved would have been an understatement; truth was he felt like throwing himself overboard to get away from the ugly beast.

  One of the pirates appeared from below decks and approached, he stopped in front of the bald pirate with the giant spider. “Looks ta be mostly wine an’ spices in the hold, sir. Fair sized haul.”

  “All yours. We put up no fight,” the captain said quickly with a slight bow of his head.

  “And the mercs?” the bald pirate asked. “What side you joinin’?”

  “Uh… side?” Betrim asked.

  The bald pirate narrowed his eyes and looked like we was about to say more when a commotion on the other side of the deck interrupted him. Seemed some of the pirates were reporting to another man, another man Betrim recognised all too well.

  People were talking but the Black Thorn couldn’t hear them. Words passed over him in a wave drowned out by the thump thump thump pounding throughout his head and the physical need to kill Kessick.

  He stood tall and proud, a wide smile on his handsome face and an easy grace to his walk. One hand rested on his sword hilt and a dozen pirates stood between him and Betrim but the Black Thorn didn’t care.

  With a wordless cry of rage Betrim’s axe sprung to his hand and he started forwards. Anders was in his way, shouting something Betrim couldn’t hear, the thumping drowned him out. The Black Thorn shoved the smaller man aside and started forward again. Pirates formed up between him and Kessick, weapons at the ready, the bald man with the giant spider at their head.

  A big hand grabbed hold of Betrim’s arm and he tried to shake it free but Joan held tight, unwilling to let go of the Black Thorn, unwilling to let him take his revenge.

  Thump thump thump

  Again Betrim shouted at Kessick. “You bastard! I’ll kill you!”

  Betrim punched Joan in the face with his left hand and pulled his right free. Before he could move forward a step two huge arms wrapped around him from behind and held him tight. Bones’ strength was legendary and for some men that might have been it but the Black Thorn was not some men. He threw his head back into Bones’ chin and the big man loosed his grip and stumbled.

  Before Betrim could move Henry was at his side pushing him back, Six-Cities Ben was with her. Betrim tried to throw them off but Joan was back, holding his right arm tight.

  “Get off me!” the Black Thorn screamed. “You bastard. You killed them. You took my fuckin’ eye!”

  Thump thump thump

  Kessick laughed.

  The Black Thorn roared again, trying to shake free from those holding him but to no avail. Then Bones stepped into view and the next thing Betrim saw was a fist connecting with his face.

  Being punched in the face was never a pleasant experience but when Bones was connected to the other end of the fist it was downright unpleasant. Truth was, Betrim knew, the only reason he remained conscious was because the giant pulled his blow. Instead of blacking out Betrim found himself sprawled on the deck with his crew and all the others around him, making sure he couldn’t get past them.

  He pushed himself back to his feet and gave a real threatening look to his friends. “What the fuck are you doin’?” he shouted at them. “That’s Kessick. The bastard who took my eye. It’s his fault Jezzet an’ Thanquil are dead!”

  “That’s not Kessick, boss,” Anders said, stepping in front of the Black Thorn. Truth was Betrim had never seen the blooded drunk look so serious even during his own execution.

  “Of course it is. I remember him. Remember his face. Remember him tearin’ my fuckin’ eye out. That bastard is Kessick!”

  Anders was shaking his head, his face a mask of concern. “That’s not Kessick, boss.” He pointed at Kessick. “That’s Drake Morrass.”

  “Tell him ta put down his weapon,” Betrim recognised the voice belonging to the bald pirate with the spider. “In fact I reckon you should all disarm right now.”

  Betrim was breathing heavy and his mind was a mess made painful by the damned thumping. He stared at the blooded man in front of him, unsure of what was happening. “You sure, Anders?”

  Anders nodded. “Yes, boss. That’s Captain Drake Morrass.”

  Betrim let his axe drop from his hand and breathed out an exasperated sigh. “Then how is it he looks just like Kessick?”

  Henry

  Henry had long since passed confusion and was now firmly in the realm of not understanding a damned thing, though she’d never show it. She had never met Drake Morrass nor Kessick but Anders seemed more than a little certain that the pretty man all the other pirates deferred to was the former. Thorn did not seem quite so certain but at least he had stopped trying to get himself killed. Pirates swarmed the decks and beside their little ship floated the Fortune, captain Morrass’ ship and, Henry had to admit, the biggest vessel she had ever seen.

  Drake Morrass closed the distance between himself and Thorn and studied him. He looked more amused than concerned. The bald pirate, the one with the spider on his shoulder, shadowed his captain. Henry didn’t like the look of that spider, its eyes were unnerving. Truth was she wanted to stab it, to see what colour it bled.

  “Anders,” Captain Morrass said. “Always a pleasure.”

  Anders nodded and lowered his eyes to the deck. Henry watched him, watched Drake. The two knew each other and she was a little bit beyond interested to know how.

  The bald pirate motion
ed to the captain of the captured vessel. “This one says they’re mercs, Captain. Don’t seem ta know which side they’re fightin’ for.”

  Drake Morrass laughed. “They’re not mercenaries.”

  Thorn bristled at the man’s voice; Henry could see him tense up. She took a step forward to stand beside him and Drake glanced at her. There weren’t many times in her life Henry had lost her nerve but under that man’s gaze she did. It took every bit of willpower she had not to step back but she managed to hold fast, couldn’t help but drop her eyes to the deck though. Only the Black Thorn seemed willing to meet the captain’s green stare.

  “Leave the ship,” Drake instructed his pirates. “Take anything of value, kill half the crew, I don’t much care which half. Leave this rabble for now, under guard of course.

  “Black Thorn, I believe you and I should have a sit down, best done on the Fortune. You too Anders.” With that Captain Drake Morrass turned and walked away towards his own ship. Thorn glanced once at Anders and then as one they both started following the pirate captain.

  It was a little more than Henry could take. For years she had been the Boss’ second and if anyone was second in the Black Thorn’s crew it was her, not Anders. She started forwards and a burly pirate with fewer teeth than fingers stepped into her way and grinned at her. Henry sent such a glare his way that the grin quickly slipped from his face but he didn’t move.

  Thorn stopped and looked back then raised his voice so Drake Morrass would hear. “Anywhere I go, Henry comes too.”

  The captain glanced back at her. Henry felt her pulse quicken and her skin crawl. Something about that man made her want to run and hide but she didn’t know why. Then, with a single nod of his head, Drake Morrass turned away.

  A plank of wood had been set up between the two ships, twenty feet stretching out over the dark blue waters below. Captain Morrass leapt onto the plank and crossed it with an easy grace. Thorn followed, more slowly and with a noticeable lack of confidence at the wood beneath his feet, he was greeted on the Fortune by swords with pirates attached to the hilts. Anders went next and looked more than comfortable crossing the expanse. Then came Henry’s turn. She stepped up onto the plank and started across, determined not to show any fear or trepidation but her mind couldn’t help but remember hanging over the river Jorl, one hand grasping onto the flimsy wooden bridge, the churning rapids below waiting to smash her into pulp and Jezzet Vel’urn standing above her, sword in one hand and Henry’s fate in the other.

  Henry let out a ragged breath and continued walking, her face set in a grim mask of determination. Then it was over, her feet hit the deck of the Fortune and Anders was there waiting for her, reaching for her hand. She shoved him away and glared at the pirates as they grinned and laughed. The bald pirate with the spider stepped up behind her, his spider making a strange clicking noise by rubbing its fangs together.

  “Captain Morrass is in his cabin,” the bald pirate said. “This way.”

  Henry had never seen the inside of a captain’s cabin but it was safe to say she didn’t expect it to be lavish. Drake Morrass proved her wrong. The inside of his cabin was large, spacious and decorated with all manner of finery. A desk took centre stage with a number of scrolls and parchments rolled up upon it and some devices Henry didn’t recognise but assumed were for navigational purposes. A number of cabinets against the nearby wall hung with their doors closed and latched and a bookcase stood against the wall to her left. To her right lay a giant of a bed with a mound of silk sheets in the centre and beyond that a wardrobe took up an entire wall. The captain had seated himself behind his desk and he waved at the bald pirate to close the door behind his captives.

  “Anders, pour us some drinks,” Morrass said with a warm smile.

  Anders walked over to a cabinet, unlatched it and started looking through the bottles inside before picking one and carrying it over to the desk with five cups. It did not go unnoticed to Henry that her man seemed to know exactly which cabinet to look in. Anders poured wine into the cups and handed one to each person in the room. Henry didn’t dare so much as sip at hers, she didn’t trust this entire damned situation. Thorn, on the other hand, down his in one and continued glaring at the captain like he really wanted to strangle the man.

  “Tell me, Black Thorn, why do you think I’m Kessick?” Drake said eventually.

  “’Cos ya look like him.”

  “I assure you, I don’t.”

  “Aye? Well my memory says ya do. I remember Kessick, hard not ta remember the man that stabbed ya four times in the chest then plucked out ya eyeball. Jus’ so happened he had your face. Same eyes, same nose, same hair, same fuckin’ golden tooth…”

  “How did you survive?” Drake asked.

  “Eh?” Thorn grunted in reply.

  “He stabbed ya four times. How did you survive?”

  Thorn growled and for a moment Henry thought the big man might leap over the desk and throttle Morrass.

  “Arbiters fixed me up. Brought me back from the brink jus’ ta burn me fer heresy. Real gracious of ‘em.”

  “How easy was your escape?” Drake continued asking his questions.

  Henry saw Thorn rub at the stump of a middle finger on his left hand. She’d known him long enough to know his tells; he was nervous.

  “Had ta kill an Arbiter; my seventh.” Thorn paused. “Come ta think o’ it he was a bit old, frail.”

  “No other guards?” the pirate captain asked.

  Thorn sucked at his teeth and shook his head. “They let me escape.”

  Drake nodded. “And somehow they made you think I’m Kessick.”

  Thorn looked confused. Henry felt confused. Truth was she didn’t understand a damned thing they were talking about but she sure as all the hells wasn’t about to let on to that. She turned and looked behind her; the bald pirate winked back, his spider gone from his shoulder. Knowing that little beast could be anywhere made Henry’s skin itch.

  “Why?” Thorn asked. “Don’t make any sort of sense.”

  “Kessick wants me dead,” Drake Morrass said with a shrug. “He might be able to kill me himself but… well I doubt he’d survive my disgruntled crew.”

  “Too fuckin’ right,” said the bald pirate.

  “Besides,” Drake continued, “he’s not really the type to get his hands dirty. He prefers to manipulate others.”

  The bald pirate behind Henry chuckled. She fought the urge to stab him with something.

  “So you reckon,” Thorn continued, “Kessick kept me alive, somehow made me think you were him an’ then jus’ set me free hopin’ I’d come after ya?”

  Morrass nodded. “Who better than the Black Thorn for such a task? It’s well known you don’t tend to let folk who wronged you last very long and should you fail, Kessick has lost nothing.”

  Henry looked from Thorn to Morrass and back to Thorn. Eventually the Black Thorn nodded and, with a glance around the cabin, sought the nearest wall to lean against. She looked at Anders; he had his eyes down and was silent as the grave. It was beyond unusual for him to be quiet for so long, he and the pirate captain knew each other somehow, of that Henry was now certain.

  “Why are you here, Black Thorn?” Morrass asked. Thorn didn’t look like answering, didn’t even look like he’d heard if truth be told.

  “Ta kill that blooded bastard, Swift,” Henry filled in for Thorn putting in as much venom as she could into his name.

  Henry heard a sleepy moan and turned her head to see the covers on Morrass bed shifting. A woman with midnight black hair and soft, white skin appeared from the silk sheets and gave a loud yawn, stretching out her arms. The covers fell away to reveal a pair of perky pink breasts. Henry clenched her jaw and glared.

  The woman had fine features and no mistake, just the sort that men would find attractive. Anders certainly seemed to, he was staring and wearing that same smirk he wore when looking at Henry. She gave him a savage punch on the arm.

  “Uh. I was just… um,” Ande
rs started but gave up and poured himself another drink.

  The woman disentangled herself from the sheets, rolled off the bed and walked, stark naked, over to Drake before giving him a lingering kiss.

  “No clothes today?” Drake asked in a playful tone. How the woman could stand him looking at her, touching her, Henry did not know.

  “I thought you liked me better without clothes,” the woman replied in a teasing voice.

  “I do,” Drake said and waved at the rest of the room. “But we have guests.”

  “I think they like me better without clothes,” she looked at Henry with a smile that seemed all too familiar. “Well most of them. Did someone mention my brother?”

  “Rose?” Thorn asked from his spot on the wall.

  The woman straightened up, squinted at Thorn then broke into a wide grin. “Black Thorn? Is that really you? I remember you having more eyes.”

  Again Henry heard the bald pirate behind her chuckle, nobody else joined in.

  “What are ya doin’ here, Rose?” Thorn asked. “An’ with him?”

  The woman pouted. “Bittersprings was so very boring without you or my brother. Drake came and offered me an opportunity for advancement. It was an offer I couldn’t…” she squeaked, jumped to her side and kicked at something. “Zothus, get your little beast away from me!”

  “She likes ya, is all,” the bald pirate replied.

  “Yesterday I woke up with it under the covers, staring at me!” Rose shouted.

  “Aye, she does that. Don’t ya, Rhi.” The spider scuttled out from under the desk at its name and proceeded to climb the bald pirate’s leg and reposition itself on his shoulder.

  “If it comes near me again I’ll see how well the creepy thing can swim. Scared the living hells out of me!”

  “Rose, what are ya doin’ here?” Thorn asked again. “Why are ya with Drake Morrass? An’ what fuckin’ opportunity?” He let out a frustrated growl. “I reckon someone better start tellin’ me what the fuck is goin’ on.”

  The woman took a deep breath and sighed it out. Henry wished the bitch would put on some clothes. “The opportunity to kill my brother. Or at least benefit from it.”