Malspire (19 page)

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Authors: Nikolai Bird

BOOK: Malspire
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"They came out of the depths, Captain. Hundreds of them!" said Olvan.

"I know. How many wounded?"

"Two crewmen dead," he said sadly. "Others with cuts and bites that the doctor will need to see to."

"Who are the dead?"

“Potlan and Ogelo. They were dragged down to the depths, sir. Gone."

"I see." I did not know the men well, but remembered their faces.

"What are your orders?"

“The Sealorns seem to have lost the will to fight. We still need to paint the ship, so we stay.”

I desperately wanted to weigh anchor and be off as did Olvan by the look on his face, but I equally did not want to risk being caught without a full disguise. We had been lucky so far, and that luck was sure to run out soon enough. I knew that an enemy force may be on the way to this location to answer the villager's call for help, but it was a slim risk to take. The enemy navy had probably ignored the request as this was just an insignificant hamlet.

"I want a skeleton crew and the injured to get rest now. The rest of the crew will stand guard throughout the night. If they come again, we will be ready."

There were no more attacks that night and as soon as the sun broke, I ordered the painting to begin. In the calmer waters it did not take long to paint the old name of the ship back onto her hull. The rest of the day was spent resting the men, seeing to the injured and preparing the ship for her on-going mission.

Harl was a clever man and I was impressed to see how he had dried the paint with a burning stick which caused it to bubble and crack. Harl then took a wire brush, borrowed from the engine room and scrubbed it down. The effect was to age the paint, and it looked very authentic from my view from the launch. I nodded at the old sailor in approval of his good work. By late afternoon we were ready to go again. Nobody wanted to spend another night in the gorge, and although I was acutely aware of the fact that we were probably entering even more dangerous waters the further west we steamed, we had come too far to turn back now.

Chapter Eight

"That'd be the third rebel we've seen, Captain," said Harl as he spied north to a distant rebel frigate.

"As long as they ignore us," I said.

Nerves on the ship were running high. Nobody said as much, but I could feel it. The Wraith Deep as the Lady Ocean was now called, cut through the choppy waves. Shipping intensified the deeper we went into enemy waters, and we began to spy the enemy navy. We were entering the Calandia Sea, a large region of water surrounded by the lands of Calandia - the rebel held lands, as well as wild barbarian lands backing onto the western Outer Oceans, a region the Empire was never able to tame. We flew the flag of the rebels.

"Should we change course, sir?" said Olvan.

"No. Be bold. We must stick to the lanes. Invite them to investigate and they will ignore us. Run, and they will pounce like a spider on a trapped fly." At least that is what I presumed would happen.

The charts covering this region had precious little information on such things as shipping lanes so we just followed other ships. I hoped this casual approach would bring us through uninspected and it worked until we were within sight of the port of Sulenfir.

Sulenfir was a major trading point and naval base situated a mile or so out to sea on a small island dedicated to the town and its harbour. The buildings where mostly timber structures with exposed framework and domed roofs painted in greens and yellows. Apparently the style of architecture in this region was a mixture of Imperial Emben and native folk who lived in domed huts in the eastern wildernesses. The only building to be classically Imperial was the harbour fort, a massive stone and mortar thing that boorishly squatted like a dark boil amongst the prettier timber buildings. Beyond the island was a network of bridges that jumped from rock to rock, leading all the way to the mainland.

Above us flew three black gulls, a bad sign and some of the sailors surreptitiously made small offerings to the sea spirits. I had seen this before whenever the black gulls had been sighted, and Harl told me it was an old tradition, so I let the men throw their copper away if it made them feel any better. When I saw Willan looking nervously up at them, I gave him a silver coin which he happily cast to the depths. Better safe than sorry.

As we neared the entrance to the harbour, we saw navy boats patrolling the waters, inspecting shipping as it both came and went. It seemed security was tight here and I could see why. A grand battleship was in port along with its escort of battleships and frigates and cargo ships. It was a large fleet. A senior admiral must be visiting, and I cursed my luck, having hoped for less enemy navy. At least there would be plenty of lectrocoders and the code books that came with them. Now the place was probably full of the strange devices, but gaining entrance would be all the harder.

“They’re turning ships away,” said Harl who was again at the wheel.

“I know. What reason do we have to make port here?”

“Perhaps we should find another port,” Olvan suggested

“Perhaps," I admitted, but was acutely aware of the fact that we had been lucky to get this far unquestioned. The longer we were in these waters, the greater the chance that we would be discovered. "We're here now. We might as well test our disguise. Anyway, if we're seen to turn away now, they'll surely get suspicious and inspect us anyway.” To get in we will undoubtedly be questioned, but better to get it done once now. Get it done and over with.

“Aye,” agreed Harl.

"Be bold, Mister Olvan. We're pirates, brigands, privateers! Go in at a good speed as though we have every right in the world to dock here. Go like we have business."

"But how do we get through? We have no good reason to dock here."

"Let me worry about that, Mister Olvan,” I said as a plan came to mind.

The first thing I did was visit Doctor Eebel. The doctor was sober and still looking after the injured from the Sealorn attack. I had earlier seen that the doctor had a human skull on a small bookshelf, and took it without explanation. I then went to my cabin which was already clear of anything to do with the Imperial and Ardalrion Navy, and cleared one of the smaller side tables. Then I went below decks to the engine room and had the men retrieve a couple of the boxes hidden in the coal pile. From these boxes, I took the Imperial Navy flag, my family signet ring, my naval uniform and my naval papers. Returning to my cabin, I arranged them all on the table with the skull in the middle and the ring in front of it. The skull was relatively new, and could still pass as a recent kill.

Ten minutes later, I was back on the castle and watched as a frigate made to intercept us. Making one last quick round of the ship, I reminded all the men that they were privateers, and also checked that nothing would give us away, then returned to the deck just in time to give a casual salute to the rebel captain. The enemy frigate was called The Dragonfly, and she looked to be in good order. Her guns were run out but probably only as a precaution.

“Turn you ship away and make for an alternative port,” called a junior office over the short span of water.

I stepped up to the gunwale. Cupping my hands, I answered: “We have business with the Admiral, and will make port here!”

“What is your name and purpose here?”

I now whispered a silent prayer to any gods that might be listening. “I am Captain Yorlwig, a privateer in the service of your illustrious navy with a letter of marque that gives me the right to hunt down and destroy enemy shipping be it navy or merchant.”

The officer had a word with his captain, who shook his head. “The port is only open to naval shipping. You are a privateer and so you must find another port.”

“I will not.”

At this, the captain of the frigate turned to face me having acted above such trivial concerns until now.

“Admiral Darcentos has given explicit orders that all none naval vessels are to be turned away. You will take your ragtag crew and turn that rotting hull around,” he said indicated the Wraith Deep. “And leave before we make you run before the barrels of our heavy guns!”

“I have a gift for the Admiral. It has taken me months of hard seas and battle, but I have returned with a prize and I will present it to him!”

“And what would this prize be?”

“The head and signet ring of Captain Lord Malspire Ardalrion, son of Lord Admiral Ardalrion of the Imperial Emben and Ardalrion Navy.” When I said it, I felt a chill run down my spine at the lie as though I had somehow determined my own future death.

The captain had another word with his officer, and then called up a marine sergeant who he sent running with orders. Then the enemy captain had another word with the officer who returned his attention to me.

“Prepare to be boarded.” He called. “Captain Raxoen will see this prize.”

She came alongside and ropes were thrown over, and then pulled tight so the two ships soon met with a thud. Steps were placed on both sides of the ship’s two gunwales and a party of green clad rebel marines quick marched over the bridge to The Wraith Deep. Then Captain Raxoen came across and I met him on the main deck with an extended hand. The enemy captain turned his nose up at the offer and the look of my back.

“Show me,” he demanded with open disgust.

I went to my cabin door and opened it, letting the other captain in first, but before he could, two marines ran in to check that all was clear. On their signal the captain, ducking and removing his hat, entered. He was a tall man, young and quite thin, with an unfortunate bald patch. He had a thin moustache and dark rings under his deep set eyes. I followed him in and then directed him to the table with the flag, skull and signet ring as well as a few other trinkets that might have belonged to an enemy captain of such high birth. The captain took up the ring in his gloved hand and studied it. Then he picked up the skull and frowned at the tastelessness of keeping such a prize.

“The letter of marque,” he demanded, returning the skull.

I went to my desk and took it from a draw, then handed it to the captain who opened it up and studied it.

“Yorlwig?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I have heard this name before.”

I froze, but quickly forced myself to smile. “Of course! I am Captain Yorlwig of the Wraith Deep. Few have not heard of me!”

“Indeed,” said the captain handing back the letter. As he did so I saw him shiver at the site of me and my bent back. “I will take the prize and present it to the Admiral,” Raxoen then declared as though I would be an affront to his admiral's eyes.

“No!” I spoke too harshly and had to backtrack. “I mean, it is a thing of honour. I must be allowed to present it myself. I am duty bound to fulfil my mission from beginning to end. What end would it be if I do not present the prize myself?”

“That is not possible....”

“That is the head of Lord Admiral Ardalrion’s son! I have struck a blow to the very heart of the Empire’s leadership, and I demand that I present the gift myself!” I interrupted.

“Malspire you say? I have heard he had a son, but I thought he was named Ajator."

"He has or had two sons. Malspire was the second and now he is dead."

"Hmm. Is this all you took? You have the flag. What about the ship?”

“Alas it sank shortly after we took her. We gave her a full broadside before boarding and with a freak wave, the shot went below the waterline.”

I realised that The Wraith Deep was not damaged and quickly embellished the tale. “We surprised her and her crew, and managed to avoid a major gun battle, but the enemy was not so fortunate.”

A thought struck me so I led the captain to my desk and then opened my drinks cabinet from which I produced a bottle of unopened Nar-Dom spiced wine and two glasses. Captain Raxoen frowned when he saw the bottle.

“Is something wrong, Captain Raxoen?” I said, feigning ignorance.

“Is that Nar-Dom?”

“It says so.”

Nar-Dom spiced wine was one of the finest wines available and a bottle cost a fortune by anyone’s standards, but I was playing the gutter fool.

“I found it in Captain Malspire’s cabinet before the ship sank. Would you like some?”

The captain was obviously torn between wasting the wine with some low life privateer, or not having any at all.

“Perhaps you are not supposed to drink when on duty,” I added smoothly, seeing Raxoen’s anguish.

“Please, take this bottle and enjoy it in your own time.”

With a genuine look of surprise, the captain took the bottle and held it reverentially.

“I have another.”

The rebel captain looked up and saw it in the cabinet.

“Now I can see that you are a man who knows his wine, and to be honest, I would not know the difference between a bottle of cat spit and a bottle of angel's tears. Perhaps we could come to some arrangement?”

The captain saw the game I was playing, but did not seem to suspect me of anything worse than trying to bribe him so I could fulfil my mission and personally gain the glory.

“How long do you intend to stay?”

“Just until I get an audience. Just until I can present the prize.”

I took the second bottle from the cabinet and held it out to the captain who gave it a longing look. It was not hard to see him imagining himself showing off the bottle to his fellow officers and captains. I had purchased them on a whim from a dealer in Umuron, thinking I would open them if ever I was to play host to an admiral or another captain I might like.

“If I see you in port more than three days, I will hunt you down,” he said taking the bottle, and hiding the two of them inside his coat.

With that, The Wraith Deep made her way into the harbour. There was precious little space for her, but I spotted a jetty not too close to the rebel naval ships and made for it. We had to pass the grand battleship and felt quite dwarfed by her scale, having to look far up the cliff like, curved hull to see the crew running about their business on deck. She was called The Formidable Awe and looked it with countless guns, buttresses, towers, and vast great paddle wheels at her stern that rose to the height of The Wraith Deep’s funnel. I wondered at the size of its engines.

Another ship was tied up alongside her. A small transport that at first held no interest, but then I looked again. I knew that ship. She was called the Water Horse. I could not be sure, but had I not seen just such a transport in Umuron not long ago?

"Are you alright, sir?" said Olvan. The man had to be calmed down once the rebel had let us pass. He admitted that he had been sure that when the two captains had entered the cabin, only one would come out and when the rebel captain came out first, Olvan had nearly drawn his sword.

"What?"

"Is something wrong, sir?"

"That ship."

"Yes?"

"While we are here, I want you to make sure we have a man watching it at all times. I want to know who leaves it and who boards it. Have Mister Sudlas watch it. He has a keen eye."

"Yes, sir. May I ask why?"

"No. Just see to it."

"Yes, sir."

We reached the dock, and I gave the order for all the crew to stay aboard. It was far too risky to let them go ashore, and even had Sergeant Lamtak post men on guard to stop any of them from sneaking off. I then went into town together with Harl to reconnoitre the place. Before leaving, I turned to look at the Water Horse and saw then Mister Sudlas was even now watching it through a spy glass, after which I then turned my attention back to the task at hand.

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