Pirate of the Prophecy

by Jack Campbell

  “It’s got a pier,” Jules said. “Fishing boats.”

  They brought that news out on deck, gaining a nod from Ang. He looked about at the rest of the crew. “We’ll vote on it, because this is risky. I propose we sail for Saraston, tying up there and buying some provisions from the locals. If they’ve got a pier and fishing boats, they’ll have provisions for sale.”

  “What about the Imperial inspectors at Saraston?” Healer Keli asked. “We’ll need to bribe them. That’ll cost the ship.”

  Jules spoke up. “I got a double share from the last ship. You can have all of it to pay the bribes.”

  “We do things fair,” Keli told her. “Equal contributions from everyone for the bribes, if we vote for it, though we’ll be happy to take that from both of your shares.”

  “Tying up in an Imperial port is dangerous,” Ferd said. “If the Imperials get suspicious we could have a cohort coming aboard before we could get the lines loose.”

  “That’s true,” Ang said. “We’ll be running some risk to get the captain out of there. And it’ll cost the ship the bribe money as well as whatever we spend on provisions. But we’ve got a rule that no one in the crew gets abandoned. I want to stick to that, because next time it might be me or you that needs the ship to come get us. And this is Mak who needs us to come get him. Show me hands. Who says we do it?”

  Jules shoved her hand as high as it would go, waiting tense as Ang counted. “That’s a big majority,” he announced. “Do we need a count of who’s opposed? No? Let’s get it done.”

  * * *

  They sighted an Imperial galley at mid-morning as the Sun Queen beat southeast toward Saraston. This morning the crew had hoisted the flag of a modestly successful Imperial family trading company, and painted over the name Sun Queen on the stern with a new one. The galley approached, its oars moving like wide wings to bring the ship against the wind far faster than a sailing ship could have done.

  Jules stood in the captain’s cabin, watching cautiously through the aft windows as the galley drew close, her heart pounding with tension. Several other men and women were with her, also deserters from Imperial service who didn’t want to risk being recognized even from a distance.

  It felt incredibly strange to know that she could have been on that galley. That former friends of hers might walk its deck at this moment. If she hadn’t come face to face with that Mage…

  The galley eased up several lances from the Sun Queen, matching her course, the two ballistae on the galley’s deck loaded and ready to unleash their projectiles if ordered.

  Jules heard the captain of the galley shouting across the gap. “What ship and where bound?”

  Ang, on the quarterdeck, called back. “The Slim Quarter out of Altis, bound for Sandurin by way of Saraston.”

  “Why Saraston?”

  “I know some people there. I can get better deals on provisions than in Sandurin.”

  Jules dared to relax a little. Everything was going just as it should. There was nothing suspicious about the Sun Queen. Nothing to prevent the galley from waving off the ship so the galley could continue its customs patrol.

  A moment later she felt as if her heart had stopped as another hail came across. “Do you have any passengers?”

  “No, sir!” Ang called back.

  “Why are they asking that?” Marta wondered. “That’s not normal, is it?”

  “No,” Jules said. Why would the galley need to know that?

  Unless they’d already been told to watch for her.

  “Furl your sails!” the captain of the Imperial galley ordered. “We need to check everyone aboard your ship!”

  Chapter Four

  Jules stared out the aft windows, wondering if she should dive out of them and try to drown herself. Because the galley’s crew would surely be looking for her. There was no other reason for them to be searching the ship. She caught a glimpse of a bag still sitting in one corner of the cabin and felt a rock come to rest in her guts. Her uniform. It was still in here. They’d find it, they’d know who she was, and when they got her Jules knew she’d be sent to Marandur to become the involuntary bride of the Emperor, to be raped on her wedding bed and again as many times as necessary to produce as many children as possible with her blood and that of the Imperial family intermingled. Surely death would be preferable.

  She took a step toward the windows as Ang called back.

  “Aye, sir. We will furl our sails. It will take a little while, because we’re short-handed due to the fever. Half the crew is out with it.”

  A pause, then the galley’s captain shouted back. “Fever?”

  “Yes, sir. Something we picked up out West, it seems. Half the crew is down.”

  “How many deaths?” the galley’s captain demanded.

  “Only…two,” Ang answered.

  Marta laughed softly. “The man is a genius. They’re not going to want to board a plague ship.”

  “Will they let us tie up at Saraston?” Jules asked.

  “Sure. They’re going to want healers to check us to see if we’re carrying some new bug and where we might’ve picked it up. We’ll be quarantined on the pier, but Mak should still be able to get to us past a couple of local police.”

  Jules relaxed slightly, but stayed tense as she waited for another reply from the Imperial galley.

  “Proceed to Saraston!” the hail came. “Tie up there, send no one ashore, and tell those on the pier you’re under quarantine until cleared by Imperial healers.”

  Ang called back. “Yes, sir! We’ll do as you say! Thank you, sir!”

  “Don’t lay it on too thick, Ang,” another of Jules’ companions muttered.

  Jules saw the galley drop back, swing about nimbly as the oars on one side dipped and pulled, and head back into the wind, rowing out to sea.

  “They’re going out farther, all right,” Marta commented. “Good thing you warned us, Jeri.”

  Once the galley had dropped below the horizon except for the sole mast still rising to mark its location, Jules and the others came back on deck.

  Jules was leaning on the railing, gazing at the water, when Ang came to stand beside her. “Hey, sister. I heard you were thinking of ending it when the galley said they’d board.”

  “Was it that obvious?” Jules said.

  “People on this ship aren’t used to seeing you look scared.” Ang leaned on the rail, also looking out. “You don’t have to tell me, but do you have a death sentence on you?”

  Jules thought about how to answer that before deciding it was substantially true, at least as far as the Great Guilds went. “Yes.”

  “That bad? You did kill him?”

  “Him?”

  “We figure some Imperial official tried to force you and you gave him what he deserved.”

  “That’s…partly so,” Jules said, thinking of what must be the Emperor’s intentions toward her.

  “He must have been pretty high up if they’re searching ships for you. You didn’t knife a prince, did you?”

  Jules couldn’t help laughing at the idea. “A prince?”

  “Why not? Or was it the Emperor himself you put a mark on when he disrespected you?” Ang grinned.

  “That’s it, brother. You’ve guessed it. The Emperor himself can’t wait to get me into his bed.” How could she joke about that? But the idea did sound absurd, and it would be, if not for the prophecy.

  Ang’s expression and his voice went serious. “Whatever it really is, you’re safe among us.”

  “I know that.” Jules looked up, toward where land was visible on the eastern horizon, and realized that some of her disquiet was due to Mak being gone. “I guess I’ll feel even safer when we get the captain back.”

  Ang nodded, his eyes on Jules. “Mak told me to keep an eye on you in particular if he didn’t make it back. He likes you.”

  Jules felt that tightness inside her again. “Brother, do you think he likes me more than he should? The truth now.”

  �
��No,” Ang said without hesitating. “You know about Mak’s daughter? The one he lost to the Mechanics?”

  “Yes.”

  “The way he looks at you, he’s seeing her. What she might have been. You should feel safe around Mak.”

  Jules stared at Ang, then back at the water. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, Jeri, I’m sure. That’s not your burden, mind you. It’s his.”

  “I still owe him,” Jules said. “For taking me aboard.” She tried to make a joke to mask her fears. “Even when a certain sailor wanted me to go away.”

  “I knew you’d be trouble,” Ang said, smiling. “Was I wrong?”

  “No,” Jules admitted. “You were right. I’m trouble.” More trouble than you can imagine, she added only to herself.

  * * *

  From the water, in the light of late morning nearing noon, Saraston had the look of any Imperial town, laid out with geometric precision, the stout stone pier projecting straight out into the water with the strength of something meant to last. When the Imperial government decided to build something, it was built well, and it was built to the same plans and in the same ways with the same materials as earlier such things. Because even if the Great Guilds had permitted any changes, the Imperial government wouldn’t.

  Jules and most of the crew stayed out of sight again as the Sun Queen came alongside the pier, still pretending to be short-handed with a fever aboard.

  When the ship was tied up, Ang came down to join them, looking worried. “They’ve got legionaries at the end of the pier. Just a single hand of them, but it’s not local police blocking access to us.”

  “Does Mak know we’re here?” Keli asked.

  “I don’t know. Something feels wrong about this town,” Ang said. “I don’t know what. Something. There’s no inspector shown up yet. That’s odd. And the legionaries at the end of the pier.”

  “Should we cut lines and run?” Ferd said.

  “I don’t want to do that yet. We can handle five legionaries if they rush us. But…I don’t know.”

  Liv frowned. “Ang, you’re not the skittish type. If it feels dangerous-”

  “Do we know where Mak is?” Jules asked.

  Everyone looked at her. “I have a name,” Ang said.

  “If it’s dangerous out there,” Jules said, frightened of what she was saying but forcing the words out anyway, “then Mak will be staying hidden wherever he is, right? He won’t be out where he can see that we’re at the pier. Someone’s going to have to find him and let him know.”

  “Someone?” Gord said.

  “I know the latest Imperial procedures and rules,” Jules said. “Better than anyone else here. I should do it.”

  “I thought the Imperials were looking for you,” Ang said.

  “They are.” Jules swallowed before she could speak through a throat tightened by worry. “But I’m Mak’s best chance.”

  “It won’t do anyone any good,” Liv said, “if both of you end up trapped in Saraston.”

  “I owe him! I pay my debts!” Jules looked around her. “Let me do this. Please.”

  “All right,” Ang said. “You’ve earned the right, and unless someone gets word to Mak he might be trapped here with the Imperials stirred up. All I know is that Mak was going to the place of a guy named Xan. Good luck.”

  “But we’re going to be ready to cut our lines and head out if more legionaries show up,” Marta warned. “You have to know that, Jeri. The good of the ship counts more than whatever happens to you and Mak.”

  “I understand,” Jules said.

  “How are you going to walk through that town and not get stopped?” Liv demanded.

  “I have something that will help,” Jules said.

  As she had recently noticed, the rolled up Imperial uniform still rested in the bag in the corner of Mak’s cabin. Jules pulled it out and unrolled it, unhappily eyeing the creases and the dried splashes of mud from the streets of Jacksport that had never been cleaned off. “Liv? Can we make this presentable really, really fast?”

  “Let me see what we can do. Do you need all this junk on it?”

  Jules looked over the rank markers and unit shields, pulling off the ones that had marked her as an officer-in-training and one assigned to the Imperial fleet rather than the legions. “I need the rest.”

  “Wait here.”

  Jules paced nervously as she waited, remembered that she also had to find her boots and sword, and looked through the cabin until she found where Mak had hidden them. The boots were muddy, of course, the dirt caked on and dried. Cleaning them gave her something to do as she waited.

  Liv came back in, the uniform held carefully. “How’s that?”

  Jules ran her hand over it, feeling the heat from a hand iron still lingering in the cloth. “Fantastic.”

  “Are you going to put it on here?”

  “No. I’ll need to sneak ashore. Do you think I can swim without being spotted?”

  “How well can you swim?”

  “Well enough,” Jules said. That had been part of the required training to serve on Imperial ships.

  “Come up on deck.” Once up, Liv gestured, keeping the movements small in case anyone was watching. “Go out the stern windows so the legionaries at the land end of the pier can’t see. I’ll lower you by rope so you don’t make a splash. Swim around the other side of the pier. See that low dock just beyond? You should be able to climb up that unnoticed and from there get into the town without the sentries seeing you.”

  “Thanks, Liv. Do we have a waterproof bag I can put my stuff in?”

  “I think so.” Liv put her hands on Jules’ shoulders, eyeing her. “Sister, are you sure you want to do this? Mak’s a fine man and a fine captain, but this could be the death of you if they find you pretending to be an Imperial officer.”

  “Technically,” Jules said, “I won’t be pretending. I doubt my resignation was accepted.”

  Liv stared at her. “Jeri-”

  “We’re wasting time, Liv. Please, sister.”

  Jules stripped down before climbing out the stern window and grabbing onto the rope that Liv and some of the other sailors held to lower her. The trip down felt too fast, but she slid silently into the water, gasping at the cold. Another line lowered the waterproof bag. Jules untied it, waved up to anxious faces looking down at her, and began swimming around the end of the pier.

  She didn’t have to worry about being totally silent as she swam, since the swells of the sea were splashing against the pier on the far side. But that carried the threat of those swells pushing her into the pier. Unable to fight the force of the waves, Jules let one carry her to the pier, turning to catch herself with her feet as she reached the stone supports. Bending her legs, she managed to take the shock without hurting anything, though the impact stung.

  Lower down under the water she saw the sharp edges of sea shells where marine life had taken root. If she hit those, even with her feet, they’d cut her badly.

  Making her way down the pier to shore turned into a repeated trial of advancing and retreating waves that alternately threatened to pull her out where the legionaries on guard or someone else might see her, or to slam her into the stone pier again.

  By the time Jules reached the low dock, she felt exhausted from the struggle. She lay for a moment in the cold water, her muscles trembling. She’d swallowed enough salt water for her stomach to be upset as well.

  Moving again took an act of willpower. She pulled herself up on the dock cautiously, eyeing the legionaries whose attention was on the ship down the pier. Rolling onto the wooden surface of the dock and wincing at the scrape of the rough wood against her bare skin, Jules crawled into a shack on one end of the dock, the early afternoon sun warm on her back. Inside, she found a mess of old fishing nets and line, the smell of rotting hemp almost overpowering.

  There wasn’t anything in here to towel off with, so Jules had to wait, shivering, until her skin was dry. Pulling on her clothes offered warmth,
but also a different kind of worry. The uniform that had once been a source of comfort and belonging now felt alien and dangerous.

  Jules pulled her boots on and stood up, buckling her sword belt. She ran her hands through her hair, which had grown since Jacksport, deciding to braid it in back, pinning the braid with a pin from one of her discarded insignia. She couldn’t carry the waterproof bag with her, so Jules stuffed it in among the rotting ropes.

  All right. She was an Imperial officer again. She knew how to do this. Act like she had every right to be here. They hadn’t seen any Mages or Mechanics in this town, so the Great Guilds wouldn’t be a problem. Find out where Xan’s house was. Collect Mak and both of them figure out how to get back to the ship without being spotted. Easy.

  Don’t think about what could go wrong. About what would happen if she was caught. Concentrate on what needed to be done.

  Jules walked out of the shack as if she owned it, turning onto land and striding along as if sure of her destination.

  It felt like a strange dream, to be in an Imperial town, to be in uniform, to be walking past people as if she had no particular cares, the citizens yielding way to her as an Imperial officer, not knowing she’d grown up a legion orphan. Horse-drawn wagons rattled down the streets, the horses clopping along with the steady determination of draft animals knowing the day would hold a lot more work before they got their grain and a rest. Scents carried from an open market, spices and fresh plants and soil clinging to the plants. Another wagon passed, doomed chickens clucking in their cages on their way to the meat market.

  No problems. Easy.

  She was about to stop a citizen to ask where Xan lived when a deferential but powerful voice called out.

  “Lieutenant!”

  Knowing she couldn’t ignore that hail, Jules turned to look. A centurion with perhaps twenty legionaries in his wake, all of them with swords at their sides or crossbows in their hands. The centurion walked to her, speaking respectfully. “Were you looking for the temporary headquarters, Lieutenant?”

  Saying no might sound suspicious. A lieutenant being lost, on the other hand, wouldn’t surprise any centurion. “Yes, I am.”