ELEVEN

4 Marpenoth, the Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)

Geran soon learned how much he’d risen in the estimation of the rest of the crew. Early the next morning, as he once again aided Tao Zhe with the scullery work, Murkelmor wandered over and took a seat on a hatch cover, watching him scrub. The dour dwarf studied him for a long time without speaking, busying himself by scraping out the caked soot from a worn old pipe.

“If you’re interested in the pots, you can find yourself a brush and pitch in,” Geran finally said.

Murkelmor made no move to help him, but gave him a humorless smile. “That was a fine brawl yesterday,” he said. “No one’s ever bested Kronn wi’ nought but bare hands. Never thought I’d see it happen, neither.”

“It might’ve gone the other way if Dagger hadn’t thrown me his knife.”

“Aye, but you held your own until th’ ogre gave your friend a reason to help.” Murkelmor leaned forward. “You’re a stout fighter, no doubt of it, and maybe the other two as well, but three’s not enough to watch each other’s backs. You’ll be needin’ more allies, Aram.”

Geran stopped scrubbing and straightened up. There were three more dwarves on board. Murkelmor and fellows formed a tight, close-mouthed gang, watching out for each other. And he’d seen that several of the human crewmen-mostly Teshans, men and women of the Moonsea lands-stayed close to the dwarves. Murkelmor’s gang numbered eight or nine crewmen, then, and the addition of Geran and his companions would strengthen it significantly. “Allies we’re happy to have,” he said after a moment’s thought. “But we’re not looking for a master. I’m my own man.”

“I hear you,” the dwarf allowed. “I speak for me fist more often than not, but I’m no petty king like Skamang. I’ll not try to tell you what to do. An ally’s good enough for me. Keep an eye out for me lads, and we’ll do the same for you.”

“Done,” Geran told him. He’d have to talk it over with Hamil and Sarth, but Murkelmor was exactly the sort of ally the three of them were looking for. The dwarf nodded in approval and ambled off.

On the evening of the fifth, two days after Geran’s duel with Kronn, Moonshark rowed into the walled harbor of Mulmaster a little before sunset. The reek of scores of forges and foundries hung in the steep streets and clung to the rooftops; like most of the other Moonsea settlements, Mulmaster was a city that thrived on ironwork and the mining of precious metals from the mountains nearby. A different collection of merchant ships rocked softly in the swell, but otherwise little had changed in the harbor since Geran’s previous visit aboard Seadrake.

“Mulmaster again,” Hamil noted as they pulled their oar at a quarter-beat. “Well, now we know that at least one Black Moon ship calls here. One of those fellows we talked to a few days ago lied to us.”

“Possibly,” Geran said. “But it might be true that Kraken Queen herself hasn’t been here. Maybe Kamoth sends other ships to run his errands in the larger ports.”

It came as no surprise to Geran that no alarm attended the arrival of Moonshark in the city’s harbor. A harbormaster approached in a rowboat and hailed the ship as the galley glided into the city’s narrow bay. Narsk remained out of sight, but Sorsil spoke with the man and passed him a small bribe. With that business concluded, the harbormaster directed Moonshark to a vacant spot along the city’s stone quay and departed. Sorsil took the helm herself and steered the corsair ship expertly to the quay, where the deckhands made her fast to the pier with four heavy lines.

As soon as the ship was tied up, Narsk emerged from his cabin, dressed in a heavy, hooded cloak that shadowed his bestial features. A small number of the so-called savage races could be found in any large city in Faerun, but most of those would be goblins or orcs-a gnoll couldn’t help but attract attention. He picked out several deckhands of Skamang’s fist as the men were securing the ship and growled, “You three, arm yourselves and come with me. I have business ashore. Sorsil, let no one else leave the ship before I return. I will not be long.”

“Aye, Captain,” the mate replied. She took up a post by the gangplank as Narsk and his guards swept down the ramp and headed off into the town.

Geran watched the gnoll disappear into the narrow streets as Hamil and Sarth worked to secure the ship’s oars. “I think this is my opportunity,” he said to his companions. “If I’m ever going to get a look inside Narsk’s cabin, now is the time.”

“Agreed,” Hamil said. “The plan we talked about?”

Geran nodded. “We’d better move fast. I don’t think Narsk will be away from the ship for long.”

Hamil climbed up to the quarterdeck and began to occupy himself by coiling lines there. His real job was to serve as the lookout and warn Geran if anyone was coming. Geran and Sarth headed below to the midships crew quarters and from there worked their way aft to the storeroom directly beneath Narsk’s cabin. Sarth closed the door behind them and set his back to it. He was also a lookout. Geran needed the storeroom to stay empty, and it was Sarth’s job to make sure that no other crewmember wandered in at some inopportune time. “You understand that we may have to fight our way off the ship if this goes poorly?” the tiefling asked.

“I know it,” Geran answered. Still, this was the first chance he’d seen in days to find out what was in the letter pouch that Sergen had handed to Narsk. He only hoped that the gnoll hadn’t taken it with him when he went ashore.

Before he could begin to second-guess the plan, he focused his mind into the still, silent readiness he’d learned under the leaves of Myth Drannor. He brought to the forefront of his thoughts the mystic words of the teleportation spell, sensing the power locked within the arcane syllables. He drew Hamil’s poniard with his right hand and held it at the ready, just in case he was about to find himself in the middle of a fight. Then the swordmage hurled the force of his will into the arcane syllables fixed in his mind as he spoke a single word in Elvish: “Seiroch!”

There was a dizzying instant of darkness, a sense of bitter cold, and Geran found himself standing in the cabin directly above the place where he’d been standing in the storeroom. He turned quickly, dagger held before him, but there was no one else in the room. Narsk’s cabin was empty for the moment. With a small sigh of relief, he sheathed the poniard and studied his surroundings more carefully.

The cabin was dark and cluttered, and a heavy animal smell lingered in the air. Geran wrinkled his nose in distaste; Narsk was none too tidy in his living arrangements. He realized that he’d need a little light to see by, so he took a copper coin out of his pocket and quietly murmured the words of a light spell. The coin began to glow with a bright, warm light; Geran quickly wrapped it in a bit of scrap cloth to mute its brightness as much as he could. He didn’t want it shining from the row of windows across the stern end of the cabin. By the dim light, he studied his surroundings. Discarded clothing lay strewn where Narsk had dropped it, plates with the half-eaten remains of old suppers, and an assortment of odd baubles-gold goblets, pearl-handled cutlery, small idols, and other such things likely gleaned from the pillage of a dozen ships-lay scattered about, along with what seemed to be half an armory’s worth of weapons.

“Now where did Narsk put that pouch?” Geran asked softly. He moved over to the small desk in the cabin and searched through the old charts and cargo manifests strewn there. Just like the baubles of gold and gems that were lying around the cabin, they’d probably been seized from Moonshark’s prizes too. Finding nothing there, Geran rifled through the desk drawers. Then he moved to the bookshelves-hard to believe that Narsk was literate; he’d never heard of a gnoll who could read-but found nothing there. With a sinking feeling, he realized he’d have to seriously search the cabin.

It took him a quarter hour, but he finally found the leather pouch underneath Narsk’s mattress. Hoping that the master of the ship was going to be tied up in his business ashore for a while longer, Geran sat down at the desk and carefully drew out the pouch’s contents: two letters on parchment, one short, the other long. He looked at the short letter first. It read:

Narsk:

Proceed to Mulmaster, making port no later than the 5th of Marpenoth. Go to the concession of the Red Wizards and ask for Iomauld. Tell Iomauld that you have come for the starry compass and that the High Captain will arrange payment as is customary. Iomauld will explain the device’s operation to you. Install the compass and proceed to the rendezvous. If the Red Wizards desire immediate payment, pay them whatever they ask for the compass. I will compensate you. If the starry compass is not available or you run into some other difficulty, then do not linger in Mulmaster. You must be at the rendezvous without fail.

Kamoth

“‘Starry compass’? What is that?” Geran wondered. Some sort of magical device, it seemed. The Red Wizards were known as purveyors of enchanted items. Their fortresslike concessions were scattered throughout the cities of the Inner Sea, forbidding places where the mysterious expatriates of old Thay wove their sinister spells for anyone who could afford their services. In any event, that was likely what Narsk was doing this very moment ashore.

Geran set that letter aside and picked up the second letter. He’d just unfolded it when he heard Hamil’s voice in his mind: Narsk is returning, Geran! You’d better hurry up in there.

“Damn it all,” Geran muttered to himself. Quickly he skimmed the second letter:

Narsk:

No later than three hours after sunset on the 7th of Marpenoth, bring Moonshark to a point three miles south of the ruins of Seawave, on the shoreline twenty-five miles west of Hulburg. There will be a large bonfire ashore to aid in navigating to the rendezvous. Do not arrive too early, since we do not want the fleet to be spotted as it assembles. Stand off well out to sea until after dark if you need to. Once the Black Moon is gathered together, we will proceed to Hulburg and attack the city in the early hours of the 8th. Your assignment is to land Moonshark’s crew on the wharves by the House Sokol concession. This is the westernmost of the merchant tradeyards in the city, hard by the bluffs of Keldon Head. Wyvern will make her landing on the Double Moon wharves immediately to your right.

Your crew is to burn the Council Hall, where Hulburg’s Merchant Council meets. After that, they are free to slay, pillage, or burn as they please. There will be Black Moon men posted in front of places that are not to be harmed; make sure that your crew knows to listen to any man wearing a black armband. The rest of the town and its folk are yours to do with as you please.

All Black Moon ships will withdraw together at sunrise, unless the High Captain personally instructs you otherwise. Make sure your crew understands that stragglers will be left behind. If you are in possession of the starry compass, you will accompany Kraken Queen to Neshuldaar-it is the eleventh islet. Otherwise, you are to make for the River Lis and the Inner Sea.

No pirate has ever assembled a five-ship raid in the Moonsea. Strike hard, strike fast, and the harmach’s men will never know what hit them.

Kamoth

“Merciful Ilmater,” Geran breathed. The Black Moon intended to attack Hulburg, and only four days from now! With five ships they could easily carry five or six hundred men. Given the advantage of surprise, they could cause unimaginable damage. Somehow he had to find a way to warn Harmach Grigor. The corsairs expected to strike a sleeping town without any idea that danger approached from the sea, but if the harmach called out the Spearmeet and mustered the merchant company armsmen to meet the pirate attack on the wharves, Hulburg might drive off the Black Moon with little harm.

Geran, Narsk is coming up the gangplank! Hamil shouted in his mind. You have to get out of there now!

Geran stuffed the two letters back into the pouch and then put the pouch back under the mattress where he’d found it. He could hear Narsk’s snarling voice just outside the cabin door. He took one quick look around the cabin to make sure he hadn’t left anything obviously out of place, then jammed the coin with the light spell back into his pocket and cleared his mind. The key rattled in the lock as he closed his eyes and whispered, “Seiroch!”

There was an instant of icy blackness, and then he stumbled as he appeared in the darkness of the hold beneath Narsk’s cabin. Sarth reached out to catch him by the arm and steady him. “I’m here, Geran,” the tiefling whispered. “Did you find Kamoth’s instructions?”

“I did.” Geran started to say more, but then he heard the door in the cabin above creak open and Narsk’s footsteps overhead. The gnoll’s harness jingled, and he heard the muffled sounds of something heavy tossed onto the bunk, followed by a cloak dropped to the floor. Then Narsk paused and snarled low in his throat like an angry wolf. Quick footsteps crisscrossed the cabin several times, then they heard the gnoll hurry back out to the deck.

“Did you leave something behind?” Sarth asked Geran.

“I don’t think so. But I must have left something out of place.” He grimaced. It couldn’t be helped now. All they could do was rejoin the crew and try to behave innocently.

They picked up casks of salted pork from the storeroom and carried them through the midships crew quarters-where they passed several of their crewmates-forward to the galley. Tao Zhe was not there; Geran breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t really come up with a good reason why he and Sarth would bring the Shou cook something he hadn’t asked for yet, but they had to have some reason for being in the storeroom under the captain’s quarters.

They climbed back up onto the main deck and found Hamil waiting for them there. “Trouble,” Hamil said quietly. I think Narsk has got your scent.

“My scent?” Geran looked back toward the captain’s cabin. Narsk was standing just outside the door, sniffing the air. Geran had no idea how keen a gnoll’s sense of smell was, but given Narsk’s hyena-like muzzle, he had to believe it was sharper than his own. The question was, did he have enough of Geran’s scent to identify him or not?

“If you found what you needed in Narsk’s cabin, this may be the right time to jump ship,” Sarth murmured. “What more do we have to gain by remaining on board?”

Geran thought quickly. He needed to find a way to warn Hulburg about what was coming. That was the foremost consideration. He’d like to find out more about the starry compass and what it was for, or continue his corsair career and see what more he could learn about the Black Moon Brotherhood, but those were secondary goals. He looked over to Hamil and asked, “Did Narsk bring anything aboard when he returned? Maybe a parcel of some kind?”

“Yes, something about the size of a hatbox. I thought it strange that he carried it instead of giving it to one of the men who went with him. Why, what is it?”

“I think it’s something called a starry compass. It may be important.” Geran turned to Sarth next. “Do you know any sending spells?” he asked.

“I do not have my tomes with me,” the tiefling answered. “They are still aboard Seadrake.”

“Then we have to remain aboard Moonshark. The Black Moon ships are gathering to attack Hulburg two days from now. We won’t find any vessel that will get us to Hulburg faster than that. Somehow we will have to find a way to warn the harmach that the Black Moon is coming.”

Hamil winced. “That’s not much of a warning. Won’t we get to Hulburg at the same time that the other Black Moon ships do?”

“We might find some way to warn Hulburg of our presence,” Geran said. “If nothing else, Sarth might be able to go ahead and provide at least a few minutes’ warning.”

“In that event, it seems that we’re continuing as corsairs for a little longer,” Sarth said. “And that means we have to throw off Narsk’s suspicions. We have to hide your scent somehow, Geran. How, I don’t know.”

“Sorsil! Assemble the crew,” Narsk shouted. “I want every hand before the mainmast now!”

“Aye, Captain!” the first mate replied. She started bellowing for the deckhands to muster on the main deck.

Geran stood petrified for a moment. He was certain that he needed to stay on board, but if Narsk could tell he’d been in his cabin …

“Quickly, Geran!” Hamil said. “Go below to Sarth’s locker. Change into his spare clothes, and dump what you’re wearing over the side. It may reduce your scent.”

It was worth a try. Geran retreated into the galley and from there went belowdecks to the midships crew quarters. His fellow deckhands were complaining as they clambered out of their bunks and made their way up to the main deck; no one paid much attention to him. He found Sarth’s locker, grabbed a tunic and a pair of breeches, and returned to the galley. He stripped, splashed himself with water from the large cask there and scrubbed briefly with a handful of scouring sand Tao Zhe kept in a bucket, and dressed in Sarth’s clothing. He crept back up to the main deck, where most of the ship’s company was assembled, and threw his own clothes over the side before he went to join the rest of the deckhands.

Sorsil spied him trying to slip into the rear of the assembled crew. The fierce first mate stepped over and struck him across the arm with her truncheon. “Laggard!” she snapped. “Next time don’t be the last man to muster!”

Geran saw stars. Holding his arm, he glared after Sorsil, but the first mate had already moved on. Maybe it would have been better to jump ship in Mulmaster after all, he thought.

Before he could rethink his plan, Narsk moved slowly into the middle of the deckhands. “Keep silent and hold still,” the gnoll growled. He went from person to person, towering over most of them, his red eyes gleaming ferally in the lanternlight. He sniffed audibly from time to time, pausing in front of some and then moving on. Geran tried to will himself to calmness. If he allowed himself to start sweating, he would lose the temporary benefit of donning Sarth’s clothing. But he kept his hand close to the hilt of the poniard Hamil had given him, just in case.

Narsk reached him and sniffed several times. Geran met his eyes without flinching. Narsk didn’t expect him to act like he was afraid, so he didn’t. The gnoll narrowed his eyes and asked, “Where were you, Aram?”

“In the galley. I wanted something to eat.”

The gnoll studied him for a moment longer then moved on. Geran kept himself from sighing in relief. When the gnoll finished with the crew, he paced back toward the quarterdeck, muttering to himself.

Geran noticed his fellow deckhands exchanging puzzled looks. No doubt they were wondering what in the world Narsk was looking for, but they kept their thoughts to themselves. He looked over to Hamil and Sarth and found them looking back at him. That had been too close.

“Sorsil, make rrready to sail,” Narsk snarled at his first mate. “We are leaving now.”

A mutter ran through the crew, and Sorsil looked as if she intended to protest before thinking better of it. Few ships left harbor after dark; in the first place it was usually better to have daylight for the careful piloting necessary to navigate close to shore, but more importantly crews expected opportunities to go ashore and spend their hard-earned coin on whores and drink. Moonshark’s crew was chafing for the chance to escape the ship for a time, and Narsk was denying them their sport. Of course, they didn’t know what Geran knew-the gnoll captain had an appointment to keep in the waters near Hulburg in just two days’ time.

In a quarter hour, Sorsil gave the order to cast off, and the crew manned the rowing benches again. The waning moon peeked through a high overcast as they rowed quietly out of Mulmaster’s harbor; for once the first mate didn’t snarl and shout at the deckhands at their oars. They rowed until they were a good two miles clear of the harbor mouth, then Sorsil ordered the crew to ship and stow oars. “Stay at your benches, and shut your mouths!” she told the deckhands. “The captain wants to speak.”

Narsk stood on the short ladder leading to the quarterdeck. The gnoll bared his fangs in what passed for a smile on his canine visage. “It’s time to tell you where we sail!” he said. “At sunset the day after tomorrow, we’ll be three miles off the rrruins of Seawave. There we’ll meet Kraken Queen, Wyvern, Daring, and Seawolf. All five Black Moon ships assembled together in a single fleet! Together we’ll set our course eastward and attack the town of Hulburg in the dark watches of the night!”

The deckhands around Geran raised a hearty cheer at that. Somewhat belatedly, Geran remembered to join in, thrusting his fist into the air. Narsk continued: “We’re to burn the city’s Council Hall, and then we’re free to do as we please. I mean to fill the hold with loot and captives! Every dog among you will be rrrich-if you’re rrready to take what you want from those fat, stupid townsfolk!” That brought another cheer.

Narsk grinned again. “The Hulburgans won’t want to be parted from their trrreasures,” he said. “Once they rrrealize what’s happening, they’ll try to fight us off. So stay away from the drink, go in groups of five or more, and kill anyone you come across. We can loot and drink all we want after the fighting’s done, but we’ve a battle to win first. Umberlee help the dog who comes back to my ship without blood on his sword!”

The pirate crew roared their approval again. The gnoll laughed savagely. “The night after next! Hulburg won’t forget the name of Moonshark for many a year, that I promise you!” He waved his hairy paw in salute then dropped down the last few steps of the ladder and left Sorsil to dismiss the crew.

Hamil twisted in his bench to look back at Geran. Well, there it is, the halfling said silently. How are we going to stop this, Geran?

The swordmage looked at the pirates swarming over the deck, already boasting to each other about what they were going to do in Hulburg. He frowned and met Hamil’s eyes, the only way that the halfling could hear his thoughts in return. I don’t see any way around it, he answered. Tomorrow night we’ll have to get to Hulburg, if we have to seize the ship and sail her there ourselves.

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