Tides of Mutiny

by Rebecca Rode

  My landing was almost perfect. I slammed my weight down onto the center of the yard, feeling it vibrate but not shift beneath my boots, and I caught the center line with both hands. It slid some, biting into my palms. Then I slid down, my feet taut against the rope to regulate my speed. I hit the deck sooner than expected and nearly sprawled onto the planks, but I managed to turn it into a stumble. I looked upward to see Aden openly gaping at me over the nest’s side before pulling out of sight.

  That’s right, lordling. You don’t belong here.

  I strode to the mainmast and angled myself behind it, pretending to examine a splinter. The inspector stood just feet from the gangplank as he argued with Father. Behind them, a wide-shouldered figure stalked up the gangway. Kemp was back. Twelve new recruits accompanied him, all with the same pale countenance and greasy blond hair, though they looked gangly compared to him. Kemp directed them to the stairs as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

  I narrowed my eyes but didn’t have time to think on it. The inspector shoved a piece of parchment at my father’s chest.

  “You may respectfully disagree, but I have my orders. By King Eurion’s royal command, no ship is permitted to leave port.”

  “Till when?” Father wore his shiny land boots again. Either he’d been too frazzled to notice, or he hadn’t yet removed them from yesterday.

  “Maybe a day, maybe a week. My men are already on their way here. As with the other ships at port, we will conduct an inspection of your cargo and issue a certificate of clearance, but it won’t be valid until the decree is lifted.”

  “And if we leave anyway?”

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “You will be considered a personal enemy of the king with a bounty on your head.”

  My father grunted, skimming over the orders in his hand. “What are they looking for? We run an honest trade on this ship.”

  “I’m not at liberty to say. Now, if you could gather your crew on deck, my team will arrive at any moment. We’ll search the ship and interview the men one by one.” The man examined the figures on deck, most of whom had emerged from the stairs out of curiosity more than a desire to help. He looked right past me.

  I allowed myself a deep, relieved breath. Definitely Aden, then. Even if none of the other men had noticed Aden’s presence, Dennis could provide an all-too-accurate description from my hurried introduction earlier. I couldn’t give him the chance.

  Father handed the parchment back. “I suppose we don’t have much choice. Let me find you a seat. This will only take a moment.”

  “I’ll stand, thank you. Just gather your crew and stay out of the way.”

  “Of course. As I said, we’re loyal to the crown with nothing to—” Father choked as he caught my gaze. “Nothing to hide,” he finished in a rush. Then he leveled his shoulders and strode toward me.

  “He already saw me and didn’t react at all,” I whispered as he arrived. “That’s not why he’s here.”

  “Perhaps, perhaps not, and I’d rather not find out. That copper load, Lane. Did Dennis check the barrels before they were sealed?”

  The guilt was a physical weight on my chest, but there was no alternative but to protect Aden yet again. I couldn’t very well tell the truth now. Besides, I’d made a bargain. Captains often employed unusual solutions to difficult problems, so this was my first opportunity to act like one.

  “Lane,” my father said. “The load?”

  My throat felt coated in mud, but my voice held. “They were filled with copper shavings, sure as anything. Checked them myself. Even swept a cudgel around inside to make sure nothing was hidden, just like you taught me.”

  “It’s as I suspected, then. Someone doesn’t want us to leave.”

  I paused, fighting back another surge of guilt. “Belza.”

  “That’s my guess. Hughen inspectors have never accepted bribes before. I don’t understand how this could happen.”

  No man was above bribery, but my father was too stubbornly attached to his country to admit it. Regardless, this was the perfect distraction. I adjusted my vest and gave Father a meaningful look. “Would you like me to call all hands to the deck, Captain?”

  He pursed his lips. He’d caught my meaning. Father didn’t want me in sight at all, much less involved. But staying would mean danger for all of us sooner or later. “Aye,” he finally said. I didn’t miss the warning in his gaze. Be careful.

  I trotted to the bell and gave it three distinct taps followed by a longer one. It called all hands, but not to line up on deck. Unfurl the sails, the rhythm said. Hurry aloft.

  And hurry they did. The inspector watched, bewildered, as the men charged up from belowdecks and leaped onto the ratlines. It would take them about four minutes to position themselves, then another five to get the canvas lowered and secured. Meanwhile, Father and I had to take care of the inspector before his team arrived.

  I turned back to Girard, fixing an I’m-just-a-helpless-child expression on my face. It was a lesson I’d learned many times. Any mistake could be blamed on a captain’s boy, warranted or not.

  The inspector’s face had turned a deep red. “Foolish boy! That wasn’t my order.” He whirled, his hand lifted to strike me.

  Father barreled into the man, wrapping his arms around the inspector’s waist like a determined wrestler. Girard sputtered as he stumbled backward, striking the rail as my father released him. The inspector flipped right over it with a yelp. The heavy splash came almost immediately.

  I covered a gasp. A distinct curse shot from the crow’s nest above. Some of the men had stopped climbing to gape. My father, the distinguished merchant captain, had waylaid one of the king’s highest officials.

  “Don’t touch my son,” Father snapped.

  My mind moved slowly, refusing to process what I’d just seen. A few stragglers stood on the docks, watching the sputtering man in the water. They looked at one another. The shortest of the witnesses took off running for town. He’d gain a few coppers for his testimony, more than he’d earn loading cargo all morning.

  Father, breathing hard, glared at the man in the water. When he finally turned, the movement was heavy and slow. “Lane, remove the dock line and tell the men to hurry.”

  I’d made him an outlaw. The man who’d once sung the Hughen royal anthem as a lullaby and spun golden tales of his homeland had just turned on his own people.

  “May you… rot in prison… Garrow!” the inspector shrieked, still splashing about. I couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or concerned that the man could swim. At least he wouldn’t be climbing out of the harbor anytime soon. The nearest rope ladder was a twenty-minute swim away.

  Dennis stumbled up from below, hair smashed like he’d been sleeping. “Stop standing about. We’d best get the ship free.”

  He pulled the gangway in himself while I loosened the fore line, then the aft. A shout sounded from above and a rush of wind tossed my hair aside. The sheets were down and would soon be secured.

  I checked the tide. Come on, winds. Bring us out.

  The men began to climb down, eyeing the inspector in the water with confusion. Dennis and I shared a concerned look. My father only had eyes for the sails. They hung there, empty and silent.

  Then I heard it—dozens of hooves hitting cobblestone at a furious pace. The inspection team had arrived. I squinted at the group, counting heads. Then I cursed. That was no inspection team. The witness hadn’t gone to give testimony—he’d run to fetch the king’s guards. An entire contingent galloped toward us now.

  At their head was the high advisor himself, Lord Varnen.

  Girard noticed Varnen at the same moment I did and began his shrieking again. Some of the crew lined the rail, looking uncomfortable as they awaited their next order.

  “Well, well,” Varnen called as he arrived and swung down from his gray stallion. “Attacking my head inspector, Garrow? I wouldn’t have expected that even from you.”

  A crowd had begun to gather now, but I barely noticed
as I stared at my father, suddenly seeing a stranger. What did Varnen mean by that? Could they possibly know each other?

  My father’s strong hands wrung the rail, his knuckles white. “Naught but a misunderstanding,” he called back.

  “Interesting.” Varnen stood at the edge of the docks, close enough that I noted the thickness of his chin and a nose sharp as a rapier. The man who had casually executed an innocent woman just yesterday looked amused now. “Gangway stowed, sails released and being tied down. Is that a misunderstanding as well?”

  “There has been some confusion. I assure you, my ship aligns itself completely with the king’s will and law.” Father leaned over, and I realized his next words were intended for me. “Get us away from this dock.”

  My mind whirling, I bolted for the bell. Two long rings, two short. The men responded and ran for the boats, although several hung back, watching the king’s advisor uncertainly. I couldn’t blame them. Those who stood against Varnen stood against the king.

  “That’s where the confusion lies, then, Captain. In the name of His Glorious King Eurion, no ship may leave until cleared. Call your crew back or risk being sunk here and now.”

  “Hughen law prohibits attacking a ship at port unless directly fired upon.”

  Varnen belted out a laugh. “The law serves me, not the other way around. You really think I’d let you sail away, just like that?”

  “We’ve nothing to hide, Advisor. But then, you know that, don’t you? I wonder what His Glorious King Eurion would say if he knew you’d aligned yourself with a pirate?”

  An uneasy buzz shot through my body as chatter rose from the crowd of workers, several tracing shields on their chests to ward off Elena’s spirit. Varnen’s expression went so dark, I almost expected him to make an inhuman leap over two rails to strangle my father. Dennis had already positioned himself at one pulley, so I grabbed the other and began to turn the handle, avoiding his eyes. The first boat slowly lowered as the last man secured the anchor line. It descended in a jerky pattern before hitting the water.

  “You’re a foolish man, Garrow,” Varnen said. Then he turned. “Bring the cannon.”

  I released a torrent of curses under my breath.

  Father’s face had drained of color, but his jaw was rigid. “The docks are full today. Surely you don’t intend to risk lives over this.”

  “I fulfill my king’s command.” He nodded to his men, who began their preparations.

  If we’d been hurrying before, now the men moved. The first boat was already away, the men throwing themselves into the oars. I recognized a couple of its occupants as Kemp’s recruits. At least they were quick to help.

  Hughen hadn’t used its port cannon since the battle that gained it independence from Messau. It took ten guards to haul the cannon into position. By its length, it was meant for distance and power. My chest hurt at the sight of it. Varnen couldn’t possibly want the son of a lord this badly. It had to be a bluff.

  Or perhaps there was more going on here than I knew.

  Dennis took his place at the helm now, absently rubbing the scar on his forehead, a stark white against his tanned skin. He wouldn’t tell me where he’d gotten it, but Paval said it had something to do with pirates. “We won’t be away for another ten minutes, Captain,” Dennis said. “That cannon’ll blow us to splinters by then. Maybe the docks as well.”

  Father nodded solemnly.

  “Shall we order the men to stations?” the first officer pressed.

  Father glanced at me. With a sinking stomach, I realized he couldn’t back down now. Varnen would conduct an inspection so thorough, they were sure to discover me. “Nay. We’ll follow this through.”

  Lands. What had I done?

  “Men of the Majesty,” Varnen shouted through cupped hands as his men positioned themselves behind the cannon. “If you abandon ship now, your lives will be spared and you’ll be well compensated for your loyalty. You have ten seconds to comply.”

  A splash sounded in the harbor. Then a second, third. Fourth. The rest of the crew groaned but continued their work. One of the men at the anchor line pulley hesitated, eyeing the docks. The man beside him clapped him on the back. I could imagine the words being exchanged. Captain will reward us handsomely. Keep to your work.

  I understood it now—Father’s insistence on returning most of his wages to the crew. It was about loyalty. When trust couldn’t be earned, it could sometimes be bought.

  A boom exploded from the docks.

  I flinched.

  The ball smashed into the bow, beheading its naked wooden goddess.

  There were shouts as the responsible party received a verbal lashing from Varnen. I let myself breathe once more, but we wouldn’t get that lucky again.

  A jerk, then a steady yank. The distant sound of cheering from the rowboats floated across the water.

  We were moving.

  The high advisor looked absolutely livid. There wasn’t time to reload for another shot. “Guards, line up along the rail!”

  A sudden jolt of fear held me in place as a dozen soldiers scrambled to obey, their muskets at the ready. Most of the crowd had cleared now, though it looked as if mayhem had unleashed itself on the docks. Entire crates were left abandoned in the road, some smashed, their contents covering the ground. Feathers floated in the air. A man lay on the ground, covering his ears and writhing as if in pain. He hadn’t been able to escape the vicinity of the cannon in time.

  I shot a withering look at the nest above. Lord or not, when this was all over, I’d lay into Aden until he wished for the safety of Varnen’s clutches.

  “Take cover!” Father shouted, yanking me into the cabin just in time. Dennis was only a hair’s width behind.

  “Now!” Varnen shouted.

  This time, the explosion lasted a full five seconds. Pieces of the rail blasted clean off, balls whistling past the open door faster than I could see. There were no screams from injured men, no thumps of bodies hitting the ground. I hoped Barrie was safe belowdecks with what few crew members weren’t in the rowboats.

  “Reload!”

  We’d cleared the docks now. Finally, the Majesty was moving on her own, headed for the bay. I caught the acidic scent of cannon smoke on the wind. Just get us to the bay, and all will be right. It had to be true.

  The canvas around us expanded and snapped like giant pillows filling with glorious sea wind. Varnen and the docks began to shrink behind us at last. There was another volley of balls, none of which reached us, and a second explosion from the cannon. I nearly collapsed with relief as it landed with a splash in the harbor, falling short. Varnen’s tiny figure flailed about, launching a tirade at anyone who stepped too close. Dennis clapped Father on the back with hearty congratulations.

  But as the men cheered and began rowing back to the ship, an instinct I had learned to trust whispered that this battle was long from over.

  It had just begun.

  That evening, I slapped a wet rag into a pot and began scrubbing away the remnants of burned coffee. The pot was deep and my elbow kept knocking the side, sending pain jolting down my arm. Dennis’s watch was just finishing their meal. I’d consumed mine quickly so I could help Paval clean up, telling myself it had nothing to do with the lordling still waiting in the nest. The one I didn’t dare confront yet. Until I could trust myself not to wring his high-and-mighty throat, better to wait here and pretend everything was normal.

  Except very little was normal today, and the men knew it. Dinner had been a tense combination of boasting about our port victory and sullen scowling at what might come next. The Hughen sailors sat staring at their tankards as if wishing their coffee would rise up and drown them. Their future was the least certain now that they’d rejected Varnen’s offer of clemency. Our entire crew would be banned now, Hughen or not. They’d been cut off from their families in a single afternoon. All because of that stupid boy in the nest who couldn’t button his own shirt.

  I wrung out the rag and turn
ed the pot to reach the other side. My nerves felt tied in a series of bowline knots. The events of this afternoon could have gone so very differently. Men dying, the ship sinking. Father’s body hanging from the gallows right alongside mine. I stoked the anger inside once again, but it felt hollow. It was easier to be angry at Aden than face my own part in all this. I’d risked everything for a bag of gold and a stranger. When Father discovered that that battle had been my fault… The guilt gripped my stomach tighter.

  Maybe I didn’t deserve to be captain of the Majesty after all.

  Aden entered the room. There was only a flash of irritation as his eyes caught mine, but it fled quickly as he took in the remaining men. Most of his countrymen rose to leave, speaking to one another in soft tones. To my surprise, they barely gave him a glance. Aden didn’t join them either. Instead, he grabbed a rag from my pile, headed for a table, and began to scrub it as Marley and Ross chatted over their empty bowls.

  “Never thought I’d see the like,” Marley said with a wide smile. “Captain standing there, daring the king’s lackey to fire that giant gun.”

  “It’s only funny because they missed,” Ross muttered.

  “Missed?” I snorted. “I suspect the goddess would think otherwise. If she still had her head, that is.”

  The men laughed, though Ross’s scowl only deepened. The truth was, I owed Ross and every other member of the crew an apology. It was bad enough that Varnen had risked all our lives today. But hadn’t Father done the same? He’d stood his ground to protect us both, no matter the cost. It was a side of him I’d never seen before and I still didn’t quite understand why that was.

  Was it possible that he’d made enemies of both Varnen and Belza? Varnen had never been a pirate, but he’d had suspicious dealings with them long ago. It was the reason he’d been positioned to betray Elena. And then there was Belza. How could one merchant ship captain stand against pirates and kings? What would such a stand cost us in the end?