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Authors: Richard Baker

BOOK: Corsair
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“I do. Are you certain you can spare him?”

The half-elf nodded. “We’ve already struck terms. But his first assignment for House Sokol is to take a post as your sailing master, if you’ll have him. And I’ll send along seasoned deckhands and armsmen, as many as you need to fill out the ship’s company.”

Geran raised an eyebrow. “That’s very generous of House Sokol.”

“No, it’s good common sense. The pirates are a problem, and Sokol ships aren’t safe until they’re defeated.” Nimessa’s eyes flashed. “Besides, I have a personal interest in seeing Kraken Queen dealt with. Anything House Sokol can provide is yours for the asking.”

“I’ve got Erstenwold’s looking after our fittings and provisions, but I can certainly use your sailors and armsmen.” He turned back to the dwarf. “Are you willing to sail under the harmach’s flag, Master Galehand?”

“Aye, I’ve no quarrel with it.” The dwarf looked over to the crew working on the mast and nodded in grudging approval. “Yer carpenters seem t’know what they’re about. Her mast never was quite true afore. She ought t’sail a sight better now.”

“You’ve sailed on Seadrake before?”

The dwarf gave him a fierce grin. “I know this ship like me own beard. I was her sailing master for five years. I’ve been wanting t’see a new mainmast for a long time now.”

“Seadrake was a House Veruna ship. Were you a Veruna man, then?”

“Aye, but we parted ways four years ago. The Double Moon Coster

made me a better offer, so I jumped ship. I’ve been with them since, but now I’m needing a new billet.”

“Why’d you leave the Double Moon?” Geran asked.

The dwarf made a sour face. ” ‘Twasn’t me notion. The Double Moon sacked me.”

Geran glanced at Nimessa. She shrugged. He looked back to Galehand and said, “That’s not the sort of thing to inspire confidence.”

“Oh, I’m good enough at me job, Lord Hulmaster. I’ve sailed these waters for nigh on thirty years, half of that as a sailing master. No, the Double Moon decided t’do without me services last month after I called one of the High Guilders a dung-brained dunderhead and knocked him down.”

Geran frowned. The Seadrake was in need of a sailing master, but he wasn’t anxious to saddle himself with a surly officer inclined to argue orders. “I can see you’re a plainspoken dwarf,” he said carefully. “What led you to do that?”

“Ye might recall a wicked set of thunderstorms that blew through early in Flamerule. We were southbound out of Melvaunt, thirty miles from Hillsfar. I came up on deck for me watch and found that instead of turning our stern t’ the squall line and reefing the topsails, the High Guilder had countermanded the captain and told the crew t’ crowd on all canvas and run across the wind. He’d some idea of trying to make Hillsfar before the storm caught up, I guess. The squall line was hard on us by then, and it nearly set us on our beam ends.” Galehand shook his head. “After we set out a sea anchor and reefed in, I rold the High Guilder what I thought of ‘im. He objected, and that’s when I knocked him down. They paid me off the next day in Hillsfar.”

“You’re lucky the ship’s captain didn’t throw you in irons for striking one of the owners.”

Galehand snorted. “Well, I think the captain would’ve liked t’ hit the High Guilder too, truth be told.”

Geran laughed. He didn’t know a thing about Andurth Galehand, but the fellow had no fear of speaking his mind, and if he was telling the truth, then it wasn’t any lack of competence that had brought him to grief. “All right, Master Galehand. You’re my sailing master; I’ll have the papers drawn up. Your first job will be to see to the rigging and the sail locker. I mean to sail by the end of the tenday, and I’ll judge you by how quickly and how well you make Seadrake ready for sea.”

“Fair enough, Lord Hulmaster. If you can spare me for an hour, I’ll fetch me kit and come back straightaway.” “Very good, Master Galehand.”

The tattooed dwarf made his way back down the gangplank.

Geran watched him depart then glanced up at the sky; it was a little before noon, a fine, clear fall day with a light wind out of the west. “You didn’t have to bring him down here yourself, you know,” he said to Nimessa. “A word of introduction from you would’ve been fine.”

“I suppose I’m still looking for a way to thank you for my life.” Nimessa gave him a shy smile then turned to run a hand over the gleaming wood of the ship’s rail. “You seem to be a man of many parts. Swordsman, wizard, and now sea captain too.”

“I’ve studied a few sword spells, I suppose, but that’s all the wizardry I know. As far as sailing, well … before I came home this summer, I spent a year and a half with the Red Sail Coster of Tantras, voyaging all over the Sea of Fallen Stars.” He laid his hand on Seadrake’s rail next to hers and imagined that he felt the ship growing restless under his palm, like a good horse that was eager to run. Nimessa waited for him to continue, a small smile playing across her face. He found himself speaking again before he knew what he was saying. “I’ve always longed to see new shores. I’m not made to stand still for long, I think.”

“What drives you on?”

“It’s certainly not any concern for Red Sail business.” Hamil Alderheart emerged from the passage leading under the quarterdeck to the officers’ cabins. The halfling wore a fine green doublet over a buff-colored shirt, with a matching cap to cover his long russet braids; for as as Geran had known him, Hamil had prided himself on his elegant clothing. “Geran’s not much of a merchant. I did all the work, keeping the books and managing the buying and selling. He was really nothing more than a glorifed wagon driver. What brings you aboard Seadrake, my lady?”

“Nimessa, this is my old comrade Hamil Alderheart. We adventured together in the Company of the Dragon Shield years ago and bought owners’ shares in the Red Sail Coster afterward,” said Geran. He’d only stayed a short time before his wanderlust led him to Myth Drannor, but Hamil had allowed him to buy back into the coster without a word of complaint when Geran returned to Tantras after his years in the coronal’s

service. “Hamil, this is Nimessa Sokol, of House Sokol. She’s come to Hulburg to take over the Sokol concession here.”

Hamil swept off his cap and bowed low before lifting Nimessa’s fingers to his lips. “I am charmed, my lady,” he said. “I see now why Geran took on a fleet of pirates for your honor. I would leap into a dragon’s gullet for one as beautiful as you!”

Geran looked down to hide a smile. Hamil had never met a beautiful woman he could resist flattering, whether she stood a foot and a half taller than he or not. For her part, Nimessa laughed and blushed. “I thank you for the thought, Master Alderheart, but let’s hope that never becomes necessary!”

I’m pleased to see you’ve rediscovered your eye for beauty, Hamil told Geran silently. He was a halfling of the ghostwise folk, and his people had the ability to speak without sound when they wanted to. If you won’t court this one, I will myself.

Geran ignored his friend’s silent comments. “Nimessa found a sailing master for us,” he told Hamil. “A dwarf by the name of Andurth Galehand. He was sailing master of Seadrake for years.”

“Good,” said Hamil. “But I’m surprised you’d take on a Veruna man. Or dwarf.”

“It was five years ago, and he seems to know Seadrake. Besides, he’s a dwarf, not a Mulmasterite. The Verunas don’t keep other folk in their confidences.” Andurth was likely paid well, but he would have been given little authority or scope for action in pursuing the company’s interests. That was one of House Veruna’s weaknesses; they treated their hired hands like not-quite-trusted servants and kept the best coin and real authority for Mulmasterires with blood ties to the family.

“We still need a half-dozen sailors and a few more armsmen,” the halfling said. “And we could use a pilot.”

“House Sokol will see to your deckhands,” Nimessa told Hamil. “I’m certain I can find a few skilled armsmen for you too.”

“Don’t worry about a pilot,” Geran said. “It’s been a few years, but I know the Moonsea well enough, and it seems our sailing master does too. I’ll handle the navigation.”

“If you get lost or run us up on a reef, I’ll remind you that you said that,” Hamil replied. “Oh, and one more thing: Initiate Mother Mara sent word that she’s directed a young friar named Larken to sign on as the ship’s curate. He’s supposed to be here tomorrow.”

“That’s almost everyone, then,” Geran said. “I’m impressed, Hamil. I never would have imagined rhat you could gather a crew that quickly.”

The halfling shrugged. “It wasn’t my doing, Geran. When word got out that you’d be fitting out, people started lining up to sign on with you.”

“How many will you sail with?” Nimessa asked.

“Well, Seadrake needs about twenty seamen to handle her comfortably,” Geran answered. “But we also need a latge number of armsmen to deal with the pirates we hope to catch, so we’ll have well over a hundred, counting the Shieldsworn and merchant House mercenaries.”

“Is that enough to deal with Kraken Queen?”

Geran allowed himself a predatory grin. “Oh, yes. If I can find her, I can finish her. It’s just a matter of tracking her down.”

“Good hunting, then.” Nimessa stepped close and brushed her lips to Geran’s cheek. “I must be going. I still have much to put in order in our tradeyard.” Then she drew back, nodded to Hamil, and made her way back down the gangway to her waiting armsmen and carriage. The driver tapped his reins, and the carriage rolled away.

Geran gazed after the coach. Absently he lifted his hand to his cheek.

“I think that young woman is fond of you,” Hamil remarked. “I suppose it’s understandable. You have an unfair advantage, since you gallantly saved her from a fate worse than death. Damn the luck!”

The swordmage shook his head. “I don’t know. Even if you’re right, well, how many times can I rescue her from pirates?”

Hamil rolled his eyes. “Trust me, Geran. It’s a good start.”

Geran tried to put Nimessa Sokol out of his mind. He looked over at the carpenters engaged with the work on the mainmast. The stepping of the mast was almost finished, but it would take hours to rig the stays, the braces, and the heavy tackle for the sails. “There isn’t much more we can do here. I need to check on the provisioning order at Erstenwold’s.”

“A fine suggestion,” Hamil said. They paused to speak with Worthel, the ship’s first mate—a wiry Red Sail shipmaster of middle years from Tantras, one of a dozen Red Sails who’d volunteered to sail under the harmach’s banner. After advising him to keep an eye open for Galehand, Geran and Hamil left him to oversee the rest of the mast repairs and headed down the gangplank to the crowded wharves or Hulburg.

Compared to some of the other cities on the Moonsea, Hulburg was small and rustic. Laborers from a variety of foreign lands almost outnumbered the native Hulburgans. As they walked north up Plank Street, Geran and Hamil passed dwarves in their heavy boots and iron hauberks, Mel-vauntians and Thentians in the doublets and squared caps that were the fashion in those cities, and all sorts of clerks and scribes and armsmen in the colors of the various merchant companies who had concessions in Hulburg. In the ten years Geran had been away in the southern lands, Hulburg had filled up and overflowed. Even after five months he was still getting used to the sights and sounds of this bustling, broad-shouldered trade-town that had mysteriously replaced the sleepy little town of his youth.

They passed several groups of foreign laborers standing around on corners or waiting by storefronts—waiting for work, or so Geran guessed. People came to Hulburg from all over the Moonsea to seek their fortunes, since the timber camps and mines of the foothills offered a chance to earn a wage. They were poor, desperate men, gaunt and hollow-eyed, with tattered cloaks and threadbare clothing. Some had spent their whole lives drifting from one city to another, wandering Faerun in search of some place to call home.

When they crossed Cart Street, Geran noticed a commotion to his right. A band of a dozen dirty men in ragged cloaks marched down the center of the street, pushing other passersby aside. Most carried cudgels or short staves, with knives or short swords thrust through their belts. Their left hands were wrapped in gray strips of cloth with a broad, sooty smear across the back of the hand. Townsfolk muttered and glared at them as they shoved through the crowds, but the ruffians paid them no mind.

Geran tapped Hamil’s shoulder to get his attention. “Cinderfists,” he said in low voice. “I don’t think I’ve seen them in the mercantile district before. What are they doing here?”

“Looking for trouble, as far as I can tell,” Hamil answered. He looked around. “Just as well there aren’t any Moonshields nearby. I think we’d have front-row seats for a riot.”

The two paused and watched the gang members pass. Most of the other people in the street hurried on by, avoiding the eyes of the Cinderfists and steering well clear of their path. Geran stood his ground, which earned him a few hostile glares from the ruffians. But he and Hamil were both well armed, and their clothes marked them as men of high station; the Cinderfists either knew who Geran was, or weren’t quite so bold as

to accost gentlemen in the middle of Hulburg’s trade district. Geran met the eyes of one Cinderfist, a tall, lank-haired fellow with bad teeth and a sallow cast. The man snorted as if amused by Geran’s attention and muttered something to his comrades as he sauntered past. Several snickered.

I don’t like the look of the tall one, Hamil said silently. I’ve got half a mind to teach him some manners.

“Leave him be for now,” Geran answered. “They’re not breaking any law of the harmach’s—not yet, at least.”

A technicality, Hamil answered. But he smiled pleasantly at the ruffians and allowed them to continue on their way. The gray-cloaked men wandered on down Cart Street, leaving the two companions behind.

“You’d think a dozen fellows like that ought to have some trade to practice in the middle of the day,” Geran said.

Hamil nodded. “The Verunas employed hundreds. When the House pulled out of Hulburg, they just left their woodcutters and miners and drivers and the rest to fend for themselves. No wonder some of them have fallen in with the Cinderfist gang.”

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