Malspire (12 page)

"Forget the man, sir," said Harl. I had not voiced my concerns but it must have been obvious to the seaman that I was worried.

"It's hard to forget the barrel of a gun put to one's forehead, Mister Harl," I eventually admitted.

A few days later, I was ordered to visit the Imperial Umuron Naval Office again. Those days had been uncomfortable. The encounter with the stranger had shaken me. It was the look in his eyes. It was the way he so casually offered death. Was the man an assassin? If so, was he going to return and finish what he had started? I was also very much aware of my loss of control, but the man seemed to find just the right words and just the right tone to enrage me. It was chilling to know that such people were out there. Hopefully my summons to the Naval Office would answer some questions. Perhaps the man had been arrested.

I was taken to the lower cells by Provost Officer Raits, where I was shown a body. The figure that lay before me in the cold, dank, darkness was a sight that brought my breakfast to my throat and I had to fight not to vomit on the spot. The body was that of a man, naked and twisted and bloated. His face was contorted in agony. His body was black and white with bruising. Every finger was broken or crushed. His feet were the same. He looked to have broken arms and broken legs. His prick and balls were swollen and crushed. There was little blood, most had probably seeped away in the water where he was undoubtedly found. He was left a mere sack of skin containing the broken parts of a human being.

"Is this the man?" asked Raits.

I forced myself to have a closer look at the face. It hurt just to look at him. His eyes had been gouged out. Every tooth was either missing or broken, his nose crushed. Although the face was a mess, I did recognise him as the man who had held a gun to my face. It was the stranger who apparently took pleasure in killing, but I could only feel pity for the bastard, for someone had tortured him thoroughly and to the very end. Did he deserve it? My experience with the man told me that perhaps he did, but it would take a man at least as sick and perverted as he to do this to him.

"It is," said I. "What in the names of the Creators happened?"

"We found him under a pier, face down. We think he was dumped there last night."

"Do you know what sick person did this to him?"

"No. We have nothing to go on other than the tattoos. No name." Raits actually seemed unimpressed, even bored by the body.

I looked at the dead man's arms and saw the tattoo that Sudlas had seen on his forearm. It was of a dragon devouring the world.

"Cult of Sciorl," I said.

"Yes. We can only hope they are not here in numbers."

"One of my men told me that they breed assassins. Perhaps he bit off more than he could chew."

"Perhaps. Either way, the world's better off without his type in it. The cult has long been banned and what with the war, we don't need them causing trouble here."

I had to agree, but could not reconcile myself with the means employed to dispatch this person. Someone had tortured him in the worst possible way, and I guessed that he was meant to be found as a warning to others not to try the same. As I turned to leave, I noticed a cut to the underside of the man's foot. Was that the letter C? Had the killer left his initial? I shuddered at the thought of someone possibly taking pride in this work. Although disgusted, I was also relieved now that the threat to my own life was gone, but I had to get out. I had to have air.

I returned to the ship, deep in thought, only to be rudely awoken by the bark of Captain Crosp. We were to leave port again. I sighed as I had not enjoyed one minute of my time on land, being all the time worried that the man might return to finish what he had started, half expecting to wake up in the dead of night, face to face with the assassin who would smile as he cut my throat. The look of cool, calculating murder in the man's eyes was hard to wash away and even though he was now dead, I feared him for he was the monster in every man, unchained, free and hungry. To see it up close and naked was not easy to forget. And just to smell it was to be smitten by it as I had discovered when I lost control and wanted to rip the man's gut open. Who was he? Who sent him? Who killed him? Perhaps I will now never know.

At sea I could breathe easy again. Of course I was always wary of Crosp, but the men kept an eye out for him and warned me of his mood. I kept playing cards and tried to learn what I could of the sea and its lore.  To myself, I reluctantly had to thank my father for the money spent on the games and came to realise that in a way I was buying an education and allies. At first this rankled, but soon grew comfortable with the idea, taking the philosophical view that anything and everything has to be purchased in one way or another. It just so happened that I was rich, and as long as I was bad at cards, I could pay my way into the hearts of these men. Mister Harl and a few others probably guessed this already, but I knew very well that I was not the only philosopher aboard the Sea Huntress.

Once, Qenrik was spied loitering outside the crew's room. I invited the man in and was pleased to see the flustered look of outrage on his face. The very idea that he would mingle with the crew! I suspected that Qenrik had been sent to gather evidence against me and made sure never to talk of Crosp in future with the men. Just the evening before, one of them had openly admitted to wanting to cut the captain's belly with a boarding axe and see the worms fall to the deck. I had chastised the man at the time, but it was forced - the thought of seeing a gutted Crosp was not so bad.

Chapter Five

I stood, Willan at my side, staring down at the Wraith Deep. It was the ship we had captured from the privateer, Captain Yorlwig, now wallowing in a forgotten part of Umuron harbour, where debris gathered on the water's edge and seaweed rotted on the higher stones. She had never been put to use by the Empire and so was left to slow decay. That was until now, for I had been made a captain and given the Wraith Deep, which was now renamed the Lady Ocean.

"She needs pumping, captain," said Willan.

"She needs a lot of work. How many guns do you see?" I said to the young man who was now seventeen, taller than me, but still as skinny as a stick.

"Ten shooters, sir."

"Only ten? I suppose we should count ourselves lucky." In fact I was originally surprised to see any left at all. The ship was in a bad state, and only had half her guns but I still could not suppress a smile. I was a captain!

"So what did Captain Crosp have to say when he found out, sir?"

I thought back to that morning when Crosp had asked me into his cabin. He watched me as I read the letter. It was spring of the third year aboard the Sea Huntress. We had spent the last many months patrolling the waters, watching, waiting, but the expected rebel attack had so far not materialised. In fact the rebels had been quiet. Some would say, too quiet.

The letter was from the Naval Office of Norlan. Captain Lord Malspire Ardalrion, it read. It came with a parchment from the Naval Office explaining my new duties. The letter had a fine stamp and the seal of the Imperial Navy as well as the Ardalrion Navy upon it. The parchment simply stated my name and rank but with a lot of fancy filigree and official seals and was signed by some high ranking naval clerk. I was to take the captured frigate and get her shipshape and ready for duty, as well as add to the skeleton crew and find arms and supplies. I was to take her on sea trials for two months to get the crew and ship ready for duty. Then I was to report to High Admiral Lord Villor for orders.

In my cynicism, I was hardly surprised. I had been given a ship in need of much repair with the minimum of crew and then told to make do. No more crew where being sent from Norlan, nor extra supplies, guns or anything else for that matter. I was given the minimum a man would need to be a captain - a boat. Well, I would show them, the bastards, not that I felt anything but suppressed joy. I would show them just what I could do with a ship, any ship.

Crosp's lower lip trembled and a line of glistening drool ran down his chin, a visual sign of the hatred the captain had for me. “Well?” Crosp finally asked.

“It seems I am to captain my own ship,” I said. “It is the frigate we took as prize from that buccaneer, Yorlwig - The Wraith Deep. She's been renamed the Lady Ocean.”

“Then I am rid of you! You do not deserve the commission nor any place in this navy but I am pleased to be rid of you. At last I can have proper officers round me. Men of honour and good taste. Men who do their duty without the need to drink and womanise at every port. Men who know their station. You have been a constant thorn in my side, Ardalrion, and the faster you get yourself killed the better. Now get off my ship!”

I was close to striking the swine. Crosp drank. Crosp womanised. Crosp just did it more discreetly. Why hide it? Only a coward would hide it, and although at heart I knew I was a coward too, I fought it, and did not let it control me. People saw my true self and I did not care. Frea and cowardice were my ever present companions, but I rebelled against it.

"Then let us hope our paths don't cross too often," I said biting back the anger. “Good day.” I left without a backwards glance.

A pair of seagulls squabbled upon the Lady Ocean's crow's-nest. I realised that I had not answered Willan's question. "The man was pleased."

"Pleased, sir?"

"Pleased to be rid of me. Not too happy to lose you though, you'll be glad to hear." I had taken Willan with me as was my right as an officer for Willan was now my steward.

"Rather be at your side, Captain."

"Well, Mister Willan, I might say the same of you, but let's not dwell on it aye? But are you sure? So far I am only a captain of a half sunk frigate and a single crewman."

Willan chuckled and shrugged his shoulders.

Rats ran along the Lady Ocean's deck. Seagulls sat on her railings, fouling the woodwork. She needed cleaning and pumping and probably a lot of new timber. How quickly a ship succumbs to the elements when not used and looked after. It had only been a little over a year since capturing her. The renamed Lady Ocean was not a large frigate and would only hold twenty main guns on a single deck requiring a crew of ninety or one hundred souls to go into battle, not including marines.

Assuming Ajator was now made a captain too, I wondered what ship my brother had been given. My father would have seen to it that Ajator got a well prepared vessel with crew and officers, I was sure, and glad for him.

"Speaking of crew," I said, and looked around. Apparently there was a skeleton crew assigned to the ship, but where were they?

There was nobody about the ship, but close by was a tavern called the Dragon's Tooth and now as the evening drew in, sailors where gathering. I wandered over and entered the tavern and was met by a large, smoke filled square room with a bar running along one side, and a simple stone fireplace on the other. Long, gnarled wooden beams held up by four stout oak pillars ran the length of the place in turn holding up a buckling ceiling and lanterns. In between the well-worn bar and soot stained fireplace were wooden tables and chairs and thirty or so sailors and marines having a fine time with drink and barmaids. A cat was sitting on the bar enjoying the attention of a younger sailor boy. Over in one corner a game of cards was being played, and in another, men where arm wrestling. The tavern smelt of pies, ale, wine and pipe smoke.

"Take some leave, Mister Willan," I said. "Be back at the ship by morning."

"Right you are, Captain," he said with a grin, enjoying the new title, then left.

I liked the place. It was a little off the beaten track, but it had a simple charm to it with no attempt at finery or any other complication. It was reasonably clean and seemed to be well run. Nobody stopped as I entered. A few looked round, and either they didn’t notice I was an officer or didn't care for they carried on as before. Taking off my hat, I sat down at a well carved and initialled table by a wall and took out my long, curved pipe. Most of the table carvings were names or simple pictures while others were quite remarkable works of skill depicting ships and half naked ladies. I stuffed my pipe with tobacco from a leather pouch. Lighting it, I then summoned a plump barmaid who as tradition dictated was revealing a lot of heaving breast, straining at the seams.

“Evenin', sailor. What'll it be?”

“The men here - are they regular customers?”

“Some are, some ain't. You an officer?”

“I’m a captain.”

“Don’t look like a captain. Of course it don't matter to me. You can be a lord admiral if you want.”

Could I? If only she knew. “What does a captain look like?” I inquired.

“Taller I suppose. Cleaner cut too. You're too scruffy, and bent,” was the honest answer.

“That would be my brother. He's an officer. Probably a captain by now, but I haven't seen him in a while. He's the perfect officer and looks like one too.” It was true. "You'd like him."

“Would he order a drink?” she asked tapping her foot impatiently. I got the hint.

“I’ll have a bottle of your house wine. Do you have rooms here?”

“Yes. Nine coppers a night with breakfast from five.”

“And, are the beds warm?” I then asked placing a silver head on the table. “For the wine and a warm bed.” She was a big girl, bigger than I, but she was probably the warmer for it.

She sighed, taking the coin. “I’ll warm the bed for you, Admiral, but you’ll have to wait for closing time, and that can be late.” I nodded my agreement.

The wine was awful but I liked it. It made me feel alive to drink such vinegar. It was honest drink. Cheap, strong and nasty, but it did the trick. As the night wore on, the place filled up and spilled out into the cobbled, lantern lit street outside. It was noisy with boisterous talk, bragging and a fiddle playing, raucous with drink and song. I noticed the flag of Calandia with the added Imperial badge on the wall.

The Empire had ruled these lands for centuries and originally filled it with the settlers who had tamed its eastern shores and forced the barbarians and beasts westwards into the wild plains. They had been hardy, brave people, poor but proud, carving a new slice of civilisation out of the wilderness. The flag was also popular with the rebels, but without the badge of course. Although sitting at a table, others came and went, using my table without leave. I did not mind. Space was at a premium, and I enjoyed listening to the sailors and their simple chatter. As it got later, three sailors sat down and began to talk amongst themselves. One of them mentioned the Lady Ocean so I listened keenly.

“I heard the captain’s a right nasty bastard,” said one.

“Son of the Lord Admiral! We're in for it, recons I. He's going to be lookin' for glory,” said another.

“Gods of the sea, I hope he ain't mad like some of them lords.”

“Well if he is, we put him in the drink, yeah?” The man grinned hopefully, looking for support.

The others sighed and shook their heads at this. “Don’t be daft Banton. You always say things of the like, but as soon as'n officer shows up, you’re as a wet puppy, all jumpin' and yes sir, no sir,” said the first who then belched.

“Are you crew of the Lady Ocean?” I then asked, and they looked round in surprise as though I had miraculously materialised.

“Yeah,” said the first eyeing my clothing, realisation slowly dawning on his simple face.

“Good. My name is Ardalrion... Your new captain,” I growled.

The men jumped up and stood as straight as pins.

“Sit down you miserable sons of whores.”

They looked at each other, and one by one sat down. Banton still sat as straight as a pin, and the first man had hit him for the man to relax a bit.

“Names?”

“Horis, sir,” said the first, then introduced Owman and Banton.

“Well lads. I am the son of the Lord Admiral, and I am mad. That means that when we're on my ship, you will look lively, and you will do your duty. You will not put me in the drink, and if I go looking for glory, you'll bloody well line up ready for me to sacrifice your sorry souls to whatever sea god I dream up and you'll thank me for the opportunity to do your duty.”

They looked worried. Banton looked pale.

“Right now however, I want to drink. I want to play some cards, and I want some food so tell that fat barmaid over there to bring us a round of ale, and some pies.”

Nobody moved. “Well, jump to it. Look lively!” I barked, and they did so.

The men soon relaxed and other crewmen joined us. There were a dozen or so men of the Lady Ocean, a motley crew. No marines or officers yet but I would make my way to the Naval Office in the morning and find out where they were. Now I drank and enjoyed the company of simple sailors. I was as always morose and sullen, but the men seemed happy to take my drink, and spoke of adventures past and those to come. With grins, they showed off tattoos. Horis had one on his belly of a naked lady that he could make dance. I liked them already. I did not say so or join in the merriment, but they seemed honest enough, and would make a fine start at a crew. Then I thought of Harl and Jodlin. They were two men I could use, but Captain Crosp would never let them go. It was hard enough keeping crew, let alone finding new men, and good men to boot. It was a problem for the morning however. There were many problems to be solved in the morning.

The next day I was feeling the worse for wear. I had slept well though. The barmaid had kept her word, showing up in my room after the last man had left or fallen asleep under a table. After eating breakfast at the inn, I found Horis and some of the other men on the ship.

"Mister Horis!"

"Sir?"

"Organise the men. Get the hand pumps going, start cleaning up the ship and sort out my cabin. I have business in town and so you are in charge."

"Me, sir?" Horis was obviously not used to such responsibility.

"Yes you, Mister Horis. I'm promoting you to king of the bastards. Now go and kick the other bastards about and get this ship into some kind of order!"

"Yes, sir. Will do, sir," Horis said, knuckling his forehead.

"Willan!"

"Captain?" Willan had appeared on deck when he had heard his captain.

"Come with me."

"Majesty," said the boy by way of a farewell to Horis as Willan passed the man.

My first stop was at the tailors. I wanted a naval captain’s jacket and so they took my measurements, and then told me to return in a couple of days. I also went to the cobblers and asked for a new pair of boots. They fitted me with a solid pair that should last a couple of years at sea. I gave my old pair to Willan. When all this was done, I went to the Umuron Naval Office which was a three floor stone built building overlooking the harbour. There I saw the supply master who went through some papers, and found orders for food for the ship, had me sign other papers and then told me the supplies would be on the way. My next stop was the personnel master. He was a fat, desk bound naval officer who obviously took an instant disliking to me. He was stuck in a small office behind a small desk surrounded by shelves and stacks of paper. There was a narrow window behind him through which I could see low clouds and seagulls. The man's belly strained at his jacket buttons. The papers were in disorder, and it was obvious that he did not get out much. Pies and wine came to mind. His name and title was Personell Master Smuddagon – an antagonistic bastard.