Where Loyalties Lie

Chapter 36 - Fortune

Most folk thought there was some kind of magical trick to locating the Rest, and in truth, there was. Fortune’s Rest wasn’t just the largest pleasure house in the known world; it was also the only mobile city. It was capable of packing up, raising sails, and moving at the drop of a hat. The majority of Drake’s fortune was housed at the Rest, and he didn’t like the idea of it being in one place for too long lest unsavoury folk get bright ideas about pirating a pirate, or the more savoury of folk get ideas about liberating a pirate’s wealth. So the Rest moved every month or so, sailing away to tempt a new locale of clients with its innumerable pleasures, and Drake always knew where it was.

Long ago he’d had his brother fashion a number of charms like no other. The first of them was a stone about the size of a child’s head, with powerful runes chiselled into almost every bit of its surface. The stone acted as an anchor, and even half the world away, would always draw the other charms to it. The slave charms, as his brother had named them, were ten in number, and each was hidden within a compass. To most observers the compass would simply appear broken, as its needle rarely pointed north, but those few who owned one knew the real reason; the compass needle would forever point to the anchor charm and to the Rest.

Unfortunately for Drake, his compass needle was currently pointing directly into the heart of a developing storm front that, judging by the purple-black horizon, spanned every bit of the water between him and his Rest.

“I don’t like the looks of it, Cap’n,” Princess said with a terrified shake of his head.

The purple clouds in the far distance lit up a touch brighter for just a moment, signalling that the lightning had just begun. If he was honest with himself, Drake didn’t like the look of it either, but he wasn’t about to be honest to anyone when being honest meant admitting fear, especially not while Beck was watching.

“We’ll be fine, Princess.” Drake forced a grin. “Rin’ll see us through.”

“Meaning no disrespect, Cap’n, but we both know that’s a bunch of shit,” Princess said. “She might have some pretty terrible powers when it comes to the sea, but we both know she can’t do fuck all about the weather. If she could, Soromo would have been a touch less terrifying.”

Drake couldn’t argue with that. His escape from the Dragon Empress’ dungeon had almost ended in death thanks to that storm, but they’d all survived then and they would survive again now.

“We’ve been becalmed for weeks, Princess. Now we finally have a bit of wind, I’m not about to waste it because of a touch of bad weather. You said it yourself just yesterday; supplies are running low.”

“There was an island just half a day back, Cap’n. I reckon we should turn tail and head back there for shelter. We’ve tempted fate once too often of late.”

Drake laughed at that. “You heard the Oracle’s telling, Princess. It ain’t my fate to die in that storm.” He pointed at the dark clouds and hoped Hironous had been truthful about his brother’s destiny.

Princess looked anything but mollified. “Ain’t exactly your fate I’m worried about, Cap’n. Rest of us got lives too, an’ we ain’t looking forward to wasting ’em by trying to sail through that.” Princess pointed his own bony finger at the storm.

“Shame that, cos it’s exactly where we’re fucking sailing.”

Princess stood face to face with his captain for another few seconds before letting out a loud sigh, and the lines on his face crumpled into a smile. “If I die, ya best say a prayer for me, Cap’n.”

“Oh, aye,” Drake agreed. “I’ll make sure Rin sits you down at her court with some merfolk, the ones with the really big tits.”

Princess groaned and started walking. “Just my luck, bloody merfolk and their bloody teeth.”

Drake spotted Beck looking sceptical. “Merfolk,” he said with a smile. “Tail of a fish, body of a woman. Entice men into the water with the promise of tits and more, but they’ve got mouths full of sharp, pointy teeth to tear a man to bits.” He shook his head. “Ain’t never seen horror ’til you’ve seen a merfolk smile.” He bared his teeth to make his point. The Arbiter still didn’t look convinced.

“Is sailing into that storm really a good idea?” she said.

Drake shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

Just a few hours later, Drake found himself reconsidering his statement. Sailing into the storm was quite possibly the worst idea he’d ever formed. Wind whipped in a hundred different directions all at once, and every lick of it was accompanied by salty spray that felt like it could tear flesh from bone. The clouds overhead were dark and roiling, thundering together with claps so loud they rattled the teeth and loosened the bowels.

The Fortune levelled out for just a moment before her bow tipped forwards at an alarming angle and she started down the crest of the wave. There was little so frightening as seeing nothing but water in front of a ship, and the fact that it was too dark to even see that did little to alleviate the terror coursing through Drake’s veins. He trusted the ship to get them through, and he trusted the crew to help her, but even the sleekest of ships and even the most experienced of crews could be lost during a storm – and this was one hell of a storm.

As the Fortune crashed into the base of the wave she started levelling out again, and a sheet of water rose up above the bow, soaking everyone and everything on the deck. Drake shook away the wet hair that clung to his face and stared out into the dark churning waters, hoping to see the next wave before it hit.

“She’s tuggin’ hard, Cap’n,” screamed Huin, the ship’s navigator. Drake looked back to see the man clearly struggling with the wheel, and wasted no time in ordering the second navigator on deck to lend a hand.

The storm canvas helped; smaller and thicker, it could catch the wind without pulling the ship down, and it was likely the only thing keeping the Fortune sailing over the monstruous waves.

They started the ascent up another wave just as a cry sounded from above. A moment later a screaming body crashed into the stairs leading up to the poop deck, turning the railing into kindling. One stolen glance told Drake the unfortunate pirate was dead, and he thanked Rin the man hadn’t landed on anyone else.

“Rope loose!” The shout drifted down from above, and Drake looked up to see the canvas flapping.

“Get that rope tied off or we’re all dead and worse!” Drake bellowed even as two pirates startled scuttling across the rigging to do just that.

The Fortune was rising now, her stern well and truly below them all. Drake saw the body of the dead pirate start to roll backwards up the stairs before it snagged on the splintered railing. Higher and higher they rose, until ahead of them Drake could see nothing but dark, boiling cloud. Then the Fortune lurched forwards and tipped the other way. Up became down, and down became up. There was a crash from somewhere below as something in the hold came free of its anchorage, but there were more important things for Drake to think about, and he trusted that someone below decks would see to the loose cargo’s proper stowing.

Lightning flashed, forking down from the sky into the water, and for just a moment Drake witnessed the sea around them. Waves taller than any building he’d ever seen surrounded them on every side, and the water churned white on every side. Sheets of rain crashed down, and the clouds blotted out all light from the stars and moon above. They were truly in the thick of the storm now, and in all his years at sea he’d never seen another like it.

“Drake!” Beck stumbled across a sloping section of deck, using her fingernails as claws to hang on to the planks. As she reached the railing Drake was holding on to, the Arbiter almost flung herself into his arms, such was her enthusiasm to find something secure to cling to.

“Best get below deck, Arbiter,” Drake shouted over the noise of the storm. “This is gonna last…”

“I saw a sail!” Beck pointed off the starboard side of the ship.

Drake stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. “Light playing tricks on ya.”

The Fortune hit the water as it completed its descent, and a solid sheet of ocean rose up towards them. Drake attempted to shield Beck from the spray and only ended up dragging himself down to the decking with her on top of him. He lay there for a moment, staring at her as she attempted to remove her sodden hair from her face and the Fortune started tipping again. Already they were climbing another wave.

Pushing the Arbiter away, Drake surged to his feet then hauled Beck to hers next to him. She looked a little dazed from the fall, or maybe just from the storm in general. Drake was feeling a little blurry himself – not that he’d ever admit it to anyone.

Something smashed into the ship and she lurched to port. Drake managed to hold both himself and Beck upright. Judging by the shouts and crashes, there were plenty of his crew who hadn’t been so lucky, the navigator included. The man was back on his feet in a moment, but by then the damage had been done. With only one man on the wheel, it had got away from them and the ship was listing to port.

“Get her under control,” Drake roared, “or we’ll all drown at the crest.”

Another sheet of spray whipped across the deck and Drake took a faceful, blinding and choking all at once. Strong hands gripped his arm even as the ship lurched again, and Drake tore his eyes open to see Beck holding him close and tight, her eyes unusually dark in the poor light. For a moment they just stared at each other, then she looked past him and Drake saw what little colour was left drain from her face.

“What the fuck?” Drake heard the navigator scream.

Slowly standing from its resting place amidst the broken and battered port railing was the corpse of the pirate who had fallen to his death. The ship was still tipping backwards as it climbed the wave, yet the dead pirate seemed to have no problem finding his balance. His neck was obviously broken, resting on his shoulder, and Drake could see bone protruding from the left arm. With an inhumanly loud groan that sounded clearly over the storm, the corpse staggered towards the navigators holding the wheel.

“Don’t you dare move from that wheel,” Drake roared as he fought for balance and stumbled towards the dead pirate.

Another flash of lightning lit the corpse’s face in a horrible grimace that resembled nothing human. Again the ship levelled as it crested a wave, and Drake, already with sword in hand, found himself fighting for balance. He knew he had to find something to hold on to before they began the descent. The dead pirate fell, hitting the deck, and began crawling towards the navigators.

The deck fell away from Drake as the ship tipped downwards, and without anything to hold on to, he fell as well. Something as hard as iron clamped around his wrist and held him fast while his feet scrabbled for purchase on the water-soaked deck. Drake opened his eyes to find Beck holding on to him with one hand while the other gripped, white-knuckled, some rigging attached to the mainmast. Chanting furiously, she pulled Drake up to the rigging, which he gratefully grabbed with both hands, only then realising he’d let go of his sword.

“The dead,” Drake shouted, pointing up towards the wheel, where he could see the dead pirate still crawling slowly across the deck.

“I see it,” Beck yelled back, whipping her head to the side to get her sodden hair out of her face.

The mast above Drake gave a worrying groan, and he sent a quick prayer to Rin that it would hold. If the main mast snapped now they would all likely follow it into the cold dark below them.

“Shoot it!” Drake shouted at Beck.

The Arbiter shook her head just as another flash of lightning made plain the fear on her face. “Powder’s wet!”

With a growl that was half frustration and half determination, Drake dropped to his hands and knees and began a painstaking climb up the deck towards the navigators still straining against the wheel. The dead pirate continued his own slow crawl just a few metres away. All it would take was one of the men on the wheel to let go, and the ship would careen and be lost beneath the waves.

Hand over hand, his boots scrabbling for purchase on the soaking deck, Drake edged closer and closer to the dead pirate until he was almost close enough to grab hold of his foot and pull it away. Someone shouted his name, but he was too intent, too focused. The ship jolted and a wave of water swept across the deck, spinning Drake around and washing him away. He hit the railing hard and felt the gradient lessen as the ship levelled off. Something slammed into his chest, forcing the air from his lungs, and he gasped in cold, salty water. For what seemed like forever, Drake’s world was one of coughing and gasping and trying to desperately rub water from his eyes.

Drake heard a groan, and the thing that had slammed into his chest started to move. Without thinking, he reached out and wrapped his hands and legs around the figure, pulling it close and holding on with all the strength he could muster even as the ship started to tilt into its ascent of the next monstruous wave.

The dead pirate started to pull away. Even with another man encumbering it, the thing was able to claw its way across the deck towards the navigators. Drake kicked and punched at it, and still the monster kept going.

Teeth sunk into Drake’s right arm, and he screamed. Unable to hold on anymore, he rolled away down the deck, cradling his bitten arm, and slammed into the stairway where the pirate had died.

One of his crew members skidded and slipped down the railing to Drake’s crumpled position and tried to help him up.

“Fucking kill that thing!” Drake pointed at the dead pirate with his bad arm and saw for the first time just how much blood he was losing as it mixed with the sea spray and soaked into his clothing.

“Who? Merle?” the crewman shouted back.

With a growl, Drake shoved the man away, picked up a nearby splinter of wood no longer than his hand, and leapt after the corpse. It reached for the terrified navigator, who was busy trying to hold the ship’s wheel steady while kicking away the monster attempting to chew on his ankle.

Roaring out every bit of pain and frustration he was feeling, Drake drove the shard of wood down into the base of the dead pirate’s neck. The creature spasmed and groaned, but kept reaching for the navigator’s foot. Drake planted his feet as firmly as he could and started dragging the corpse backwards, inch by inch, away from the wheel. Somewhere along the way the ship levelled off, then tilted back the other way, beginning its terrifying descent down a wave. Drake tightened his grasp on the creature, ignoring its attempts to turn and snap at him or pull itself free, steadying himself with one leg hooked through some rigging. Finally, after the ship had hit the bottom of the wave and a fresh wall of water had slapped them all about, Drake dragged the dead pirate to its feet and gave it an almighty push towards the railing. It stumbled, tripped against the railing, and toppled backwards overboard.

Drake sank down onto his knees amidst the ship and the raging storm and let out a groan. His arm felt like it was on fire where the pirate had bitten him, and he was somewhere beyond exhausted. There was no time to rest. A fresh sheet of sea spray whipped his face, and it was all the wakeup he needed.

Forcing himself back to his feet even as the ship started her next ascent, Drake stumbled his way over to the main mast, passing pirates hanging on for dear life and others scrambling to their jobs. If any of them needed direction, Drake was too exhausted to give it.

He found Beck still clinging to the rigging on the mainmast, her knuckles white and a fearful look in her eyes. Drake doubted it was the dead pirate walking that had frightened her so, and guessed it was more the dubious motion of the ship as she raced up and down the waves. It wasn’t uncommon; some folk simply couldn’t handle the raw power of a churned-up ocean tossing them about like flotsam.

“You saw a sail?” Drake screamed over the storm.

Beck nodded.

“What did it look like?”

Beck seemed to think about it for a while before opening her mouth to answer and receiving a lungful of salty water for her troubles. After a few good retching coughs she managed to speak.

“Like overlapping scales. Lots of sails all together.” She shrugged as though it was the best she could do, but it didn’t matter. Drake already knew what ship it was: a Drurr corsair. And unless he was very much mistaken, they were carrying a necromancer on board.