Thieves of Blood

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Poison?” Hinto said. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. What kind of priest uses poison?”

“The kind that helped get you off that death-trap of a ship,” Ghaji said.

Hinto looked at the half-orc as if he expected the big man to try to take a bite out of him. “Not that I’m ungrateful,” he said to Diran. “Just surprised is all.”

The four of them sat on the deck of the Zephyr, eating hardtack and drinking fresh water from Yvka’s supplies. It wasn’t the most satisfying meal Ghaji ever had, but he’d choked down worse during his years as a soldier. After Diran had used his poison-coated daggers to stop the lamprey-things, Yvka and Hinto had managed to cross back over to the Zephyr without incident. Ghaji figured that the poison had killed the creatures that had attacked Yvka and perhaps their deaths had frightened any others away, but when he’d said as much to Diran, the priest had merely grunted, and Ghaji hadn’t pressed his further. He knew that Diran would share his thoughts with the rest of them when he was ready and not before.

“What can you tell us about the Pelicans demise?” Diran asked Hinto.

The halfling bit off a chunk of hardtack and chewed as he spoke. “We set sail from Tantamar, carrying a hold full of spices and silks, bound for Port Krez. Well, that’s a long voyage, and the captain and crew of the Pelican like… liked their drink, and it wasn’t long before our supply of spirits began to dwindle, so when we spied another two-master on the horizon, we changed flags and set off after her.”

“Changed flags?” Ghaji said.

“Life’s hard in the Principalities,” Diran explained. “Lhazaarites do what they must to survive. One day a ship might fly a merchant’s flag, the next a pirate’s. It’s a matter of pragmatism.”

Ghaji sniffed.

“I didn’t say I approve,” Diran added, “but that’s the way it is.”

“True enough,” Hinto said. “A man has to live by his wits on the sea. Now, if I can get on with my story?”

Ghaji gritted his teeth. One moment the halfling acted terrified of him, then the next he was insulting. Another sign of the man’s mental instability, Ghaji decided, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Hinto continued, “We caught up to the other vessel and took the crew by surprise which, considering they were all drunk themselves, wasn’t too difficult. The Pelican’s captain recognized the merchant’s flag they were flying, and we couldn’t believe our luck. The ship was likely carrying a hold full of Regalport spirits, and the fact that the crew was mote than three sheets to the wind meant they’d been sampling some of their own cargo. We subdued the crew, which mostly consisted of just tying them up. No need to hurt folks unless you have to, right? Then we set about emptying their hold of spirits and filling ours. When the deed was done, we sailed off, but only after untying a couple of unconscious crewmen so they could later free their fellows.

“The Pelican continued on her way to Port Krez, and the crew lost no time getting into the spirits.” He grinned. “I have to admit to sampling a bit myself. That night most of us were dead drunk and sleeping it off.” His voice grew softer then, and his tone hollow. “I guess we must’ve sailed into the Mire without realizing it, for when I woke up the next morning, half the crew was missing and the ship had a leak in the hold and was slowly sinking, though it never did go all the way under. Those of us left alive salvaged what food and water we could and broke out a couple of longboats. After the first one set off and the crew was devoured by those gray things, the last of us didn’t bother launching the second longboat. Instead, we concentrated on keeping ourselves alive. Much good it did us. After the last of my shipmates was gone, I was alone in the dark, with those things out there, searching for me, slithering around what was left of the Pelican. I could hear their mouths opening and closing, hear the sound of their tiny needle teeth clacking together…” The halfling began shivering as if caught in a sudden cold breeze that only he could feel. “None of us will ever escape. It won’t let us.”

Yvka reached out and put a hand on Hinto’s shoulder to comfort him, but the halfling let out a startled cry, and she quickly took her hand away. All they could do was sit and wait for Hinto to regain control of himself.

After a bit, the halfling’s trembling eased, and he gave the others an embarrassed smile. “Sorry about that.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Diran said.

Ghaji didn’t want to disturb the halfling further, but they needed to understand as much about the Mire as they could. “You keep saying It, like there’s only one great, powerful creature, but four of those seaworms attacked Yvka, and we got rid of them easily enough. Are you sure you’re not making the Mire out to be worse than it really is?”

“I don’t think our new friend is doing anything of the kind,” Diran said. “I’ve been thinking a great deal about our encounter with those ‘seaworms’, as you called them, Ghaji. I’ve come to the conclusion that they weren’t separate creatures, but rather a single beast of some sort-one incredibly vast creature that is the Mire itself. That is the It of which Hinto speaks.”

Ghaji had been expecting his friend to make some sort of statement about the nature of the seaworms, but he hadn’t been expecting anything like this. “Didn’t you say the Mire was reputed to be thousands of square miles in size? How could a beast that large possible exist?”

“If it did, how could it ever find enough food to feed itself?” Yvka added. “There’s no way it could get enough nourishment solely by ensnaring sailing vessels and devouring their crews.”

“I doubt the Mire subsists only on unfortunate sailors,” Diran said. “It most likely preys on undersea life as well. As for the issue of its size, I believe that the vast majority of the creature-what appears to be mile upon mile of seaweed-is in fact some kind of sensory apparatus, lure, or camouflage, and quite likely a combination of all three. The heart of the creature lies here, at the center of the Mire.”

“What where those seaworms then?” Ghaji asked. “Something like octopus tentacles?”

Diran nodded. “That’s my guess, though with mouths on the end. Whether those orifices are for ingesting or merely grabbing hold of prey, I don’t know.”

Diran went on to tell them of his observations of how the “seaweed” had reacted to being stabbed by one of the daggers, how it shuddered when the lamprey-things had been poisoned, and how the toxic coating of the daggers had killed the surrounding seaweed when they’d landed upon it. They had all seen the large black patch of dead seaweed that had resulted. It covered most of the distance between the Pelican and the Zephyr. The daggers themselves had been retrieved by Ghaji with the aid of the grappling hook, now that the line between the two ships was no longer needed.

Yvka frowned as she considered Diran’s words. “I suppose it makes sense. It certainly would explain why no one ever escapes the Mire… and it’s difficult to believe that simple seaweed, no matter how thick, could really trap a vessel, especially one that’s powered by an air elemental.”

“If we’re basically sitting on top of the thing’s mouth,” Ghaji said, “why doesn’t it just swallow us down ship and all?”

Diran shrugged. “Who can say? If it could swallow an entire ship, or even use its tentacles to crush it, it surely would’ve done so to get at Hinto by now. Perhaps the Mire is like the larger whales who, for all their vast size, can only feed by straining water through their baleen and trapping tiny sea creatures within. The Mire feeds the way it does because it can feed no other way.”

“It’s a good thing too,” Yvka said, “or else we wouldn’t have a chance to escape.” She rose from her seat and walked across the deck, heading back toward the pilot’s seat.

Diran stood, but he did not follow her. “What do you intend to do?”

“I’m going to wake the elemental and get us out of here.” The elf-woman sat in the pilot’s chair, unlocked the tiller, then placed her palm on the hand link. A moment later, the containment ring behind her began to glow as the elemental awoke. Wind blew forth from the ring, and the Zephyr’s sails filled with air.

“Best take a seat, Diran,” Yvka said. “We’re going to be moving pretty fast in a minute.”

From the expression on Diran’s face, the priest didn’t think this was a good idea, but he sat back down with Ghaji and Hinto and waited to see what would happen.

At first it looked like his worries were unfounded. The elemental sloop began to inch forward, slowly at first, then with increasing speed. Soon the vessel began to slow and it came to a jarring stop. The elemental continued to pour forth wind, but the Zephyr didn’t move. Yvka concentrated and the wind blowing from the glowing containment ring increased in strength, but though Ghaji could feel the sloop straining to push through the Mire, it didn’t budge. The wind grew more intense yet, whistling and roaring as if the elemental were summoning forth the power of a hurricane. Diran, Ghaji, and Hinto grabbed hold of their seats to steady themselves as the wind tore at their backs, but the despite the increased effort the vessel remained stuck.

Over the sound of the elemental’s wind, Ghaji heard a strained creaking, and he knew that they were in trouble. He turned around, closing his eyes against the buffeting wind, and shouted back to Yvka.

“The mast is breaking!” He yelled as loudly as he could, hoping the wind wouldn’t muffle his words.

Yvka looked at the half-orc and frowned, so he shouted his warning again. A look of alarm came over Yvka’s face, and she yanked her hand away from the chair arm. Instantly, the glow flickering around the containment ring vanished and the wind ceased blowing. The elf-woman leaped out of the pilot’s seat and rushed to the mast to check the damage.

“How bad is it?” Diran asked.

“It doesn’t look too serious,” Yvka said, “but it would probably be best if we refrained from running at full speed from now on.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Ghaji said, “seeing as how it doesn’t look like we’ll be running at any speed for the foreseeable future.”

“See?” Hinto said. “I told you we can’t escape.”

Diran ignored the halfling pirate and walked to the Zephyr’s bow. Ghaji, after giving Hinto a quick glare, joined his friend. They looked over the rail, and Ghaji saw that the seaweed layer in front of the sloop looked as solid as green rock.

“The Mire might not be able to reach out and crush a vessel,” Diran said, “but it can certainly keep us from going anywhere. At least, as long as it’s healthy.”

“What do you mean?” Ghaji asked.

In answer, Diran drew one of his poison-smeared daggers, to which he’d applied a fresh coat, and leaned over the railing. Holding tight to the hilt, he gave the blade a flick to shake off a few droplets of poison. Ghaji watched the seaweed where the drops hit turn instantly black, as if Diran had splattered them with dark ink, but more than their color change, the half-orc noted that the consistency of the substance softened and seemed to relax.

Diran replaced the dagger in his cloak, sliding it into the hidden pocket that Ghaji knew was specially treated to hold the poison he used. The priest then reached into the money purse hanging from his belt and withdrew two copper coins. He handed one to Ghaji.

“Throw yours onto the green section. I’ll toss mine onto the black.”

Ghaji nodded, took the copper, and did as his friend asked. Ghaji’s coin hit the hardened seaweed layer with an audible clink and bounced several times before coming to a rest. Diran then tossed his coin. It hit the small black patch with a soft, moist splat and then slowly sank from sight.

Diran turned toward Ghaji and smiled.

By mid afternoon they were ready to put Diran’s plan into action. Ghaji stood at the bow, holding onto the grappling hook. His hand was covered with a crudely stitched glove made from the pockets in Diran’s cloak where he had kept his poison daggers. The hook itself was liberally coated with glistening poison. Diran stood at the starboard railing, facing The Proud Pelican, bow in hand, arrow nocked and ready. The tip of Diran’s arrow was wrapped in cloth that had been soaked in lantern oil. Yvka sat in the pilot’s seat, ready to activate the elemental at Diran’s command. Hinto crouched next to her, looking nervous, but ready to help if he were needed.

“Ready, Ghaji?” Diran called.

“Always,” the half-orc replied. He had no idea if his friend’s plan was going to work, but that didn’t bother him too much. Finding out was always half the fun.

“Go!” Diran ordered.

Ghaji hurled the grappling hook as far as he could straight out before them. The opposite end of the rope was tied fast to the bow railing so there would be no worries about losing it. The hook hit the hardened seaweed layer and bounced a couple of times. When it came to a rest, Ghaji began hauling it in, being careful not to pull too fast so the hook wouldn’t bounce much on the way back. The goal was not to simply retrieve the hook, but to poison as much of the green substance of the Mire as possible.

Ghaji watched the seaweed as he pulled in the hook. A black line of poisoned seaweed trailed behind the hook, almost as if it were a quill pen that Ghaji was using to etch a broad black line toward the Zephyr’s bow.

“Almost done!” Ghaji called out.

Diran nodded and using a flint and striker, ignited the oil-soaked cloth at the tip of his arrow. The cloth burst into flame, and Diran let it burn for several seconds before he drew back his string, aimed, and let the arrow fly.

Still pulling in the grappling hook, Ghaji watched Diran’s flaming arrow arc through the air toward the Pelican. Diran had taken up the traditional weapon of the Order of the Silver Flame late in life and was still only minimally competent with it, but the target was large enough, and better yet, completely stationary, and the arrow streaked toward the Pelican’s upturned bow. Ghaji had already tossed a lantern full of oil over earlier, breaking it against the ship and soaking the wood with flammable fuel. Thus the arrow’s fire quickly spread, and within seconds the Pelican’s bow had become a blazing bonfire, bright flames reaching toward the sky as they hungrily devoured the ship’s wood.

Ghaji finished pulling in the hook, and he was careful to take hold of it with his gloved hand. The black line was widening as more of the seaweed, or whatever the stuff was, died. Now everything depended on whether what Hinto had told them was true. Inside the Pelican’s hold, which was only partially submerged, were crates filled with what remained of the Regalport spirits the crew had “liberated” during their ill-fated voyage. If the flames burned hot enough to ignite the alcohol in those bottles…

As if Ghaji’s thought made it reality, the Pelican exploded in a fiery blast that sent flaming debris flying everywhere, including onto the Zephyr’s deck. Immediately following the explosion, a shockwave rippled beneath the Zephyr, and both Ghaji and Diran had to grab hold of the vessel’s railing to keep from being knocked off their feet. Ghaji became aware of a low thrumming sound, one more felt than heard. It almost sounded like something was moaning in pain, something huge.

“Now, Yvka!” Diran shouted.

The elf-woman slapped her palm onto the hand link on the arm of the pilot’s chair, and the containment ring flared to life. The elemental trapped within began producing wind, and the Zephyrs sails grew instantly full. At first the vessel didn’t move, but then she began sliding forward across the blackened path that Ghaji had created with the poisoned grappling hook.

It was working! Diran’s plan had been to make a passage so they could sail out of the Mire and to burn up the Pelican to distract the great beast while they escaped. Of course, Diran hadn’t mentioned anything about flaming debris raining down on the Zephyr. The elemental’s wind extinguished the flames that had begun to eat at the mainsail, but a half dozen other small fires now burned on the sloop’s deck. Hinto jumped up from where he crouched beside Yvka. Her traveler’s cloak still hung on the railing where she’d earlier put it to dry. The halfling snatched up the cloak as he ran past then dashed into the cabin. When he came out, he carried a water skin, and he uncorked it and poured the contents over the cloak. Then Hinto went to work snuffing out the flames.

Ghaji looked back questioningly to the halfling, but the pirate said, “I’ve got it! You keep doing your job!”

Ghaji had to admit that for a man who was a few eggs shy of a full nest, Hinto didn’t hesitate when it came time to act. Ghaji turned back toward the bow and hurled the grappling hook again, intending to create the next leg of their passage out of the Mire.

As Hinto slapped the sodden cloak on the deck in his effort to extinguish the flames, one of the Mire’s lamprey-mouths lunged over the guardrail toward him. The halfling screeched in terror as the tooth-ringed maw came at him, but Diran dropped his bow, drew a poisoned dagger from his cloak and threw it at the lamprey-thing. The blade struck the creature in the mouth, and grayish-green ooze shot forth to splatter onto the deck, just missing the still shrieking Hinto. The lamprey-thing, already turning black from the poison, took Diran’s dagger with it as it slipped back over the railing and into the sea.

Diran started toward the halfling, but before he had taken two steps, he whirled back around. He drew another poisoned dagger as he spun and slashed the lamprey-thing that had just been about to fasten onto the back of his neck. The blade’s edge was sharp, its poison strong, and the lamprey-thing’s rubbery gray hide parted like wet vellum. The creature fell back into the Mire in two blackening pieces.

More of the lamprey-things came lunging over the railing after that, as if the Mire was desperately trying to keep them from escaping. Diran fought the creatures off wielding a poison-coated dagger in each hand, while Hinto continued putting out flames with Yvka’s cloak, shrieking all the while. When the last fire was out, the halfling pirate ran back to Yvka’s side, curled up into a ball, and shivered uncontrollably.

It was slow going, and the Mire continued to attack with its serpent-mouths as they went, but once they had gotten far enough away from what Ghaji guessed to be the Mire’s central core, the lamprey-things came no more, and the Zephyr was able to make better progress. Come dusk, the sloop at last sailed out of the Mire and once more plied the open sea.

Ghaji tossed the grappling hook into the water to clean off the last traces of poison, then hauled it back in and dropped it onto the deck. His arm and shoulder ached like blazes from long hours of heaving the grappling hook and pulling it in, but the pain was a small price to pay for helping to win their freedom.

Ghaji walked over to Diran and gave his friend a weary grin. “Looks like we survived another one,” he said.

Diran smiled and lay a hand on Ghaji’s shoulder. Though the priest appeared to do nothing special, soothing warmth spread through Ghaji’s shoulder and down along his arm, washing away his pain.

“Thanks,” Ghaji said.

Diran gave Ghaji’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze before removing his hand. “Anytime, my friend.”

The two companions headed back to the pilot’s chair were Yvka sat, Hinto sill at her side, though the halfling no longer shook with fear.

“I have to admit I was wrong,” the halfling said. “The Mire almost got us, but it didn’t, thanks to you three. I’m in your debt.”

“You carried your weight well enough,” Ghaji said. “’Course, small as you are, there’s only so much to carry.”

Hinto grinned at the joke, taking no offense. “So where are you bound?” he asked.

“We’re on an urgent mission,” Diran said, “to save a friend of ours who’s been abducted by sea raiders, along with all those who were taken with her. To that end, we’re traveling to Dreadhold.”

Hinto’s eyes went wide. “Dreadhold? The prison island?”

“The same,” Diran confirmed.

Hinto jumped to his feet and ran to the guardrail. He climbed up and launched himself into the air, clearly attempting to abandon ship. He would have succeeded too, if Ghaji hadn’t managed to catch hold of him at the last instant.

“Let me go!” Hinto kicked and thrashed, trying to free himself from the half-orc’s grip without success. “They don’t kindly to resourceful sailors such as myself on Dreadhold!”

“You mean pirates like you,” Ghaji said. He tossed the half-ling onto the deck.

“Don’t worry,” Diran said in a soothing voice. “What you may have done in the past is no concern of ours. We have no intention of turning you over to the prison’s warders.”

Hinto didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t make another attempt to leap overboard. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his slender arms around them.

“Tell me more about this friend of yours,” he said.