Where Loyalties Lie

Chapter 20 - Fortune

The man let out a groan, and his eyelids fluttered. His mouth worked open and closed, and he tasted the wooden deck he was lying on. A moment later, a confused expression graced his previously peaceful face. His eyes slowly opened and blinked away the blurry confusion.

“Good morning,” Drake said with cheer. “I was starting to wonder if you were ever gonna wake up.”

“What…” the man started. He coughed.

“Probably a little thirsty, eh?” Drake placed a water skin in front of him. “Go on, have a drink.”

The man reached out for the skin, but stopped short when the shackles around his wrists clattered on the deck. He looked down at the cold iron for a moment, before Drake saw realisation light in his eyes.

“You…” He coughed again.

“Go on, Admiral.” Drake pointed towards the water skin with his good hand. “Just water. You’ll feel better after a slurp, and then you can insult and threaten me as much as you please.”

The man hesitated for a moment before the needs of the body won out. He reached forwards, grabbing the water skin and squeezing mouthful after mouthful down his throat.

“I hear you’re supposed to sip when dehydrated,” Drake said, earning a glare from the admiral. “Isn’t that right?” Drake looked at Beck, who was leaning against the wall next to the door.

Beck shrugged and went back to cleaning one of her little pistols. Drake had no idea how she could do such delicate work in the dim light of the little cabin, but there were many things about Arbiters he didn’t entirely understand.

“My men?” The admiral pulled himself up into a more gentlemanly sitting position, placed his back against the wall, and smoothed down his naval jacket – which, Drake had to admit, had seen better days.

“Dead,” Drake replied with an easy grin. “Most of ’em, anyway. Couple of them are going to live, I’ll see to that.”

Having smoothed down his jacket as well as he could manage, the admiral set about running his fingers through his moustache and bedraggled hair.

“I like that,” Drake said to Beck. “Even in chains and certain peril, he takes the time to smarten up his appearance.”

“That’s the difference between gentlemen and rogues.” The admiral sneered. “No matter what you do to me, I will always be a gentlemen. No matter how high you might rise, you will always be a rogue.”

Drake mulled the statement over for a moment. “I think I prefer being a rogue.” He glanced at Beck. “Think she does too.” Beck snorted.

“So let’s get down to business, Admiral. You’re done. Ship captured, crew killed, and ain’t nobody expecting you back home for a while at least. Ain’t nobody going to come rescue you. It would be… sensible for you to answer my questions.”

“You will get nothing from me, pirate.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“Aboard your ship?”

“Aye, a small, dark cell on board the Fortune. Right at the bottom, so when we get sailing seawater will slosh in and out and in and out. Do you know who I am?”

Drake saw the man hesitate before nodding.

“Good. This lady behind me is Arbiter Beck.”

The man’s face twisted in disgust. “No Arbiter would ever work for a pirate.”

“He’s not wrong,” Beck said sweetly. Drake turned to find her grinning at him. She may have saved his life more than once already, but Drake truly wished she’d be a little more cooperative. Just once, he would like people to do as he wanted with being manipulated, coerced, or threatened into it. Of course, he had to admit, that would remove the pleasure of bending them to his will.

“We got three ways of doing this,” Drake continued. “You can either answer my questions willingly – that’d be the gentlemanly way of doing things – or you can answer her questions.” He nodded towards Beck. “Or we can do this the old-fashioned way.”

“I won’t be asking him any of your questions,” Beck said. “I’m not a member of your crew, Drake. And I don’t take orders from you.” She pulled the door open and stepped outside.

The admiral let out a very noble-sounding laugh that made Drake want to punch the man – and he might have if his right arm hadn’t been hanging in a sling.

“I don’t know why you have an Arbiter on your ship, Morrass, but as you can see, the servants of Volmar are not easily corrupted.”

Drake cracked the admiral a golden-toothed grin over his shoulder. “We’ll see about that.”

Beck wasn’t angry; she was indifferent. It was the curse of being a beautiful woman; all of her life, men had been trying to take advantage of her. After she’d earned her coat, things had been a little different. No matter how much the average fool might be attracted to her, most would pale at the prospect of spending prolonged periods of time with an Arbiter. Of course, that had angered her at first. The only thing worse than the attention of men had been losing that attention, but she’d got used to it mostly because she’d realised it didn’t truly matter. Their desire for her and knowledge that they could never have her gave her power over them and, whether they ignored her or not, she retained that power.

Drake was different. He wanted her – any fool with eyes could see that – but he didn’t pursue her, and neither did he act like a man who knew he would never have her. It was all frustrating to the point of murder, an act Beck was not beneath, but she had given Hironous Vance her word that she would protect Drake Morrass.

With a frustrated growl, Beck stopped and levelled a punch at the door to her cabin. The wood neither gave an inch nor cared at the unsolicited violence.

“You got an issue, take it out on me, not the ship,” came Drake’s voice from behind. That he’d followed her, after she’d quite clearly stormed away, only served to make Beck angrier. She turned, and as soon as the pirate captain was within reach, she grabbed him and shoved him up against the wall. Beck was smaller than Drake, but with a whispered blessing of strength, and his back pressed firmly against the wooden wall, it was an easy thing to lift the pirate off his feet with just her left arm. With her right, she sent a punch into his stomach before stepping away and letting him collapse onto the floor.

“Fuck,” Drake wheezed out between coughs and splutters. “You hit… hard.”

In truth Beck had pulled her punch significantly. With her blessing of strength she could likely kill a normal man with one strike, but she wouldn’t break her promise to Inquisitor Vance. She pulled open the door to her cabin.

“Obviously I touched a nerve,” Drake said from the floor.

Beck stopped. “My magic is not some tool to facilitate your torture of a man. It is not a plaything, and it is to be used only in the service of Volmar.” Beck might have imagined it, but it almost felt as if the ship shook at the mention of her god’s name.

Drake slowly pushed himself to his feet with his one good arm. “But it’s alright for you to use that magic to beat up unsuspecting pirates, especially one obviously too injured to protect himself?”

Beck glared at the man. “Sometimes it serves Volmar to remind people that…” Again the ship seemed to shake a little at the name of the god, and this time even Drake seemed to notice it. The man looked truly worried, far from his usual arrogance.

“You say that name again, Arbiter,” he said, more earnest than Beck had ever heard him, “and I swear to Rin, I will throw you to her. I’ll not risk my ship, my crew, and my life because you don’t understand the rules here. There’s power in names, Arbiter Beck. Things greater than us hear them when spoken, and not all of those things like that name you keep throwing about. There’s a reason folk refer to their gods as he and she and her and him. It’s not always wise to gain the attention of a creature powerful enough to name itself a god.”

“Captain!” A grizzled old pirate with more grey hair than black leapt down from a ladder that led up to the deck.

“What is it, Ollie?”

“The sea, Captain.”

“Aye, still there, is it?”

“It’s… um… ah, shit. Captain, you best come look fer ya own self.”

Drake wasted no time in running for the ladder, and Beck followed in close pursuit. The older pirate had gone ahead, and as Beck emerged into the waning light of the day she could see him, and what looked like most of the crew, crowded around the railings of the ship and looking down at the water below them.

Beck followed Drake as he mounted the ladder to the poop deck and crossed to the side of the ship. Many of his crew were looking to him now, asking what they should do, while others were making crude signs in the air.

As Drake reached the railing his face paled, his mouth hanging open. The man was clearly speechless – for the first time in his life, Beck suspected. She reached the railing a moment later, and looked down to see why. The sea was black.

It took Beck a while to realise that it wasn’t actually the sea that was black. There was something darker than night just below the surface of the water, and whatever it was, it seemed to stretch the entire length of the ship and then some. Judging by the reaction of the crews on the other ships, it spanned all three of them. With a whispered blessing of sight, Beck could just about make out scales on the black surface.

“What is it?”

“It’s a leviathan,” Drake said, his voice full of awe and dread.

“Shall we get the poles, Cap’n?” shouted one of the pirates to a cacophony of replies from other crew members.

“Anyone so much as spits into the water, and I’ll personally sacrifice ya to Rin,” Drake shouted over the din. He gestured downwards to make his point. “Stillwater,” he yelled across to The Phoenix. “Same goes for your crew. Let’s try to not make any aggressive moves, eh.”

“How big is it?” Beck said. She’d never seen a creature so large. She’d never even imagined anything living could grow so monstruous. Even a dragon would pale in comparison to the beast that floated beneath them.

“Big enough that it could sink all three ships with barely a flick, and it wouldn’t even notice the carnage it caused.” Drake grabbed hold of Beck’s shoulder and turned her around to face him. A part of her realised she should be insulted by the manhandling, but something about the size of the creature beneath them shocked her into inaction.

“You know why there’s so few tales about these bloody things?” Drake hissed.

Beck shook her head. Drake’s face was different; all the usual smug self-confidence was gone, replaced by earnest fear.

“Because nobody tends to live through a sighting. They ain’t just your average beastie come up from the depths for a glimpse of sunlight, Arbiter. They’re Rin’s damned servants. Sent by an angry goddess to punish those who earn her wrath,” Drake added in a whisper.

“I’m sure people must have said Vol…” Beck was silenced by a slap from Drake. For a moment she was too shocked to react. But only for a moment.

“How dare…”

“I just saved your life, and that of every other man, woman, and child on these three boats. I’m sure your god’s name has been said over the sea before. For one reason or another, she” – he pointed downwards – “has decided to take offence, and trust me when I tell you this, Arbiter. Your god will not be able to save you from her. Not here.”

Beck thought about arguing for a moment. One last glance over the side of the boat convinced her that, though it might all be shit, sometimes it was better to be cautious. Instead, she leaned forwards so that her face was close to Drake’s, and attempted to still her shaking.

“If you ever slap me again, you will lose that hand.”

“Captain,” shouted a pirate from the lower deck. “What do we do?”

Beck held Drake’s gaze for a few moments more, until a grin erupted onto his face and he turned to face his crew.

“Do?” Drake shouted loudly enough to carry to the adjacent ship. “We do nothing. That beastie down there is one of Rin’s, and we are her fucking chosen!” A cheer passed through the pirates below, and Drake leapt up onto the railing that overlooked the main deck, steadying himself by grabbing hold of a low-hanging rope.

“You really think she’d send a leviathan to kill us? No. She sent it to inspire us. To congratulate us on our victory. Her victory. And to remind us that out here on the blue, we live and die by her leave.

“Today we did the impossible, boys. Today we took on Sarth and we fucking won!” Again a cheer erupted from the gathered pirates; this time it wasn’t only Drake’s crew. Beck looked across to Stillwater’s ship to see the captain and many of his crew standing at or on the railing, leaning out to hear Drake’s words and cheering along.

“They burned our towns, slaughtered friends and family members, and they tried to murder us. But did we let them?”

“No!” the pirates shouted in unison.

“They tried to take away our freedom, but did we let them?”

“No!” The atmosphere was so charged that Beck almost found herself joining in. After all, she’d fought to keep these people alive and free as well.

“No!” Drake screamed back. “We fought and we won!” Pirates from both the Fortune and The Phoenix cheered even louder than before, complete with stamping on the decks and wooting calls from up in the rigging. Beck watched Drake from behind as he strutted back and forth on the railing, inciting the crowd to even more noise. Eventually the captain raised his hand, and the crews fell silent, waiting.

“Today was historic.” Drake didn’t shout. He pitched his voice to carry, and Beck saw that the sudden lowering of volume worked. Crew members on The Phoenix were hanging dangerously far out over the stretch of water between the two vessels to hear the man’s next words. It was almost as if they’d forgotten about the giant sea creature below them. “And the thing about history is you either watch it pass, or you make it happen. Well, today we made it happen.”

Again a cheer went up, and again Drake strutted back and forth for the pirates before holding his hand up for quiet. Beck caught herself in a smile, and quickly replaced it with a much more fitting scowl.

“Now, it ain’t over. Not by a bloody long shot. In fact, this right here is just the beginning. They’re gonna send more, a lot more. They’re gonna come at us with every fucking thing they have.”

Drake paused and swept a gaze over all those gathered before him. Beck tore her eyes away from him and risked a glance at the pirates. They were rapt, hanging on his every word and looking at Drake Morrass as if he were their saviour – or, Beck realised, their king.

“So we’re gonna answer with everything we have. The Fortune and The Phoenix and all of you are just the start. By the time they next come at us I intend to have every pirate that calls the isles their home, and every ship they sail, ready to fight alongside you.

“This is our home,” he shouted. “This is her kingdom. And we are Rin’s chosen!” Again the crews cheered, and again Drake strutted for them.

“Break out the rum,” he said when the noise had died down enough that he could be heard. “Two portions per man, and then back to work. I want these ships ready to sail by nightfall.”

Beck realised she was standing behind Drake, but couldn’t recall moving from the port side railing. She quickly rectified the situation by crossing back to the railing and arranging herself as if she’d never left it. The problem was that Drake was compelling, and his words were inspiring. Beck found herself caught up in them and wanting to help. It was unusual for her, a woman who had built a reputation of indifference.

“Is it still there?” Drake said as he approached.

“Yes.” Beck took care to keep her voice neutral. “Although only a couple of people seem to care anymore. Fancy words, you said. Were they for their benefit?” Beck waved towards the two ships. “Or for hers?”

Drake smiled. “Both. They needed something else to think about, and it never hurts to appease the local deity, eh. So you believe in her now?”

Beck ignored the question. It was difficult not to believe in Rin, given the timely appearance of a leviathan directly below her, but she certainly wasn’t about to admit that to Drake Morrass, nor convert. She did decide it would be prudent to refrain from speaking Volmar’s name when over water in the future.

“Thought so,” Drake said. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go torture a man.”

“I can help,” Beck said before she could think of a reason to stop.

“Eh?”

“You need to know what he knows.”

“Might help save lives. Might help win the war that’s coming.”

Beck turned and pinned Drake with a stare. “I’ll help.”

“Why?”

“Does it matter why?” Beck attempted to seize hold of Drake’s will but, as always, it proved to be as slippery as the man’s reputation. “You want my help. I’m willing to give it.”

Drake walked out of the little cell, leaving a broken wreck of a man behind. The admiral was kneeling on the wooden floor with his head buried in his hands and great, racking sobs escaping from his lips. It appeared he could be made to be less than a gentleman after all. Drake knew the man’s breaking had been inevitable the moment Beck had entered the room, the moment he realised that his faith in the Inquisition had been a lie. The moment he realised that Drake had corrupted an Arbiter. The subsequent questioning, during which Drake had learned everything the admiral knew about Sarth’s invasion of the Pirate Isles, had reduced the man to tears. To see him struggle to resist Beck’s compulsion and fail, to see the man’s will subverted by such a small woman – Drake would be lying to himself if he tried to deny the whole situation had turned him on.

“Did you get everything?” Beck said from behind. Drake felt her compulsion wash over him and take hold of nothing. That he was one of the few people who could resist her subversion of a person’s will only turned him on even more.

Drake stopped and turned on his heel so suddenly that Beck almost walked into him. She was mere inches away from him, close enough to touch, close enough to smell. He smiled at her, making certain his one golden tooth showed.

“Not yet,” he said with a wink.

He expected her to hit him, or insult him, or hit and insult him – but she didn’t. For a few moments Arbiter Beck just stared up at Drake. Then she snorted, pushed past him roughly, and stormed away to her cabin. Drake watched her go with a smile plastered to his face. Not for the first time, he caught himself imagining what she’d look like naked. His imagination was not left wanting.

Climbing ladders was not the easiest thing to do with one arm in a sling. Nor was it the first time Drake had done it. An unfortunate consequence of being a pirate was that he spent much, if not most, of his life on board a ship. It was impossible to sail without climbing ladders, ropes, and rigging, and occasionally free-climbing up the outside hull even as the ship was cresting and falling through thirty-foot waves. Drake hoped he’d never have to repeat that experience, but if it had taught him one thing, it was to not complain at the relatively simple climb of a six-foot ladder leading to the main deck.

Up top he found his crew had ceased their celebrations and were well into the act of getting the ship squared away. Refugees were being led onto the captured Man of War, and supplies were being moved the other way. The wounded were all gone from the deck. Those that were likely to live were recovering in the mess, while those that weren’t were also being moved to the Man of War. There was still plenty of blood on deck, and it was impossible not to notice the smell of it along with the stench of loosened bowels – an unfortunate side effect of death.

“Princess,” Drake shouted over to his first mate as he limped his way to the captain’s cabin. There was nothing in the world Drake wanted to do right now more than sleep – with the one possible exception of Arbiter Beck – but sleep would have to wait. He had more pressing concerns.

“Aye, Cap’n,” Princess said as he fell in line with Drake. The man looked terrible, with one eye swollen shut and a larger, darker bag than Drake had ever seen under the other.

“How are preparations?”

“Could be better,” Princess admitted. “We’re down a few men and they took a spell off their feet with the rum, but they’re all back up to it now. We should be ready to sail by night. Hopefully, Cap’n.”

“Good enough.” Drake nodded. “Princess, I need you to get over to the Man of War and find the ship’s charts. Bring them to me as soon as you find them, and under no circumstances is anyone else to see them. Good?”

“Aye, Cap’n. Something wrong?”

Drake stopped outside his cabin and fixed his first mate with a blank stare. “Get to it, Princess.”