Where Loyalties Lie

Chapter 39 - Fortune

There was a hole in the Rest. Actually, there were quite a few, and Drake couldn’t give a damn about most of them, but the one he was staring at now changed everything. That hole, where once a ship had floated, meant that while he had once been one of the richest men in the known world, he was now no better off than an average merchant. Drake couldn’t abide being average.

Coloured Sky had been more than just another ship in the Rest; it was the only one that hadn’t offered pleasures to the public, and the only one that had boasted a seasoned crew and a veteran guard. Drake wasn’t so stupid as to put all of his eggs in one basket – his fortune was spread out over many of the vessels he owned – but the majority of it had been right there, where now there was only water. Millions of bits down in the drink, where no one, not even him, could ever go.

None of the nearby ships had been touched, none of them sunk. Reports from his men aboard the Rest claimed that while most of the inhabitants had been fighting against the Drurr and the living dead, a small band had crept inwards and found Coloured Sky. They had apparently pierced the hull with magic. Just how they knew which of his ships housed his vast fortune was still a mystery. His men had killed the Drurr who had sunk his treasure ship and, even better, they had captured one of the bastards.

“Drake.”

“It’s about time you found me,” Drake said as Beck joined him. They stared down at the ocean where the Coloured Sky had been. The Arbiter had been furious, and then some, when he told her he suspected the Drurr had a necromancer aboard their ship. Even after Drake had explained that they had no way to find the corsair after the storm, Beck had been beside herself. Now they could both get some answers. “Reckon I could use some of that magic of yours again.”

“What?”

“Got one of the fuckers that did this trussed up and awaiting interrogation.” Drake turned a hungry grin on Beck. “Drurr bastard from that ship we passed in the storm.”

“Where is it?” The fury in Beck’s voice matched Drake’s own. He found it curious that she was so angry. The Drurr had done so much to Drake, they’d taken so much from him, that it was natural for him to hate them. As natural as it was to draw breath. He wondered if Beck, too, had suffered at their hands, or if it was just the hatred the Inquisition peddled to all its followers.

“In the cabin,” Drake said. They were aboard Rising Night, the largest of the ships in the Rest and far larger than any but a Man of War. It was also a ship devoted to some of the more vicious, carnal pleasures. People paid to be tortured aboard Rising Night, or sometimes paid to watch others tortured – maybe even take part themselves. It was a ship devoted to pain and blood, and once he was finished with the bastard in the cabin, Drake intended to have him pinned to the front of the ship as a grisly warning to all Drurr.

The Drurr’s eyes flickered open, and there was a moment of pure panic as he realised where he was and how much trouble he was in. He was a handsome one, and no mistake, but he wouldn’t be by the time they were through with him. Like all Drurr, he was paler than any man had cause to be, and his skin seemed just a little too tight across his face. His eyes were black – not just the pupils, but the irises as well – and his mouth was too wide and full of too many teeth. There was very little difference physically between Drurr and humans, Beck reflected, but enough to mark them out as what they were. Heretics.

With a groan, the Drurr closed his eyes and slumped in his restraints. Beck itched to start questioning the creature, but she would follow Drake’s lead. The man seemed to have an intimate knowledge of the Drurr and a history with them that Beck needed to know more about.

“Do I know you?” Drake said.

The Drurr opened his eyes again and stared at Drake. A smile slowly spread across the creature’s face, a smile that would have seemed too wide upon human features. But the thing bound and kneeling on the deck was not human. It shook its head.

“Do you know me?”

The Drurr nodded. It looked around at the others on the deck, first gazing at Beck, then the men and women who had captured it. It was impossible not to feel uneasy under the intensity of that dark glare, but Beck hid her discomfort as well as she was able to.

Drake grinned. “That’ll make things a whole bit easier then.”

“You… were… here all the time?” the Drurr asked in a voice clearly unused to the common language.

“Nah,” Drake said. “Just arrived. Passed you bastards in the storm just back.”

The Drurr laughed, a haunting sound of disjointed melodies that would make a strangled cat ashamed. “That was… you. If only we had known.”

“You came here for me?”

Again the Drurr shook its head. It let out a groan and slumped down to the deck.

“Bastard took a couple of blows to the head. Only way to put him down,” said a scarred sailor.

“Anything you can do, Beck?” Drake said.

“Concussions are a problem of focus, not consciousness.” Beck didn’t take her eyes off the Drurr, in case it should be feigning ailment and try to escape. They were devious, hateful creatures, and heretics one and all. It was well within her right to put the creature down right then, but she wanted answers as much as Drake. The Drurr had never before been known to use necromancy. It had, after all, brought down their entire civilisation long ago.

“No spells or charms then?”

“Arbiter!” the Drurr lurched upwards onto its knees and spat at Beck. The insult fell short and did nothing but wash the deck. There was no denying the hatred plain on the creature’s face.

“My presence appears to vex it.” Beck smiled, enjoying how easily she could enrage the creature.

The Drurr attempted to stand, but the scarred sailor put two big hands on its shoulders and forced it back to its knees, where the creature continued to seethe, mumbling to itself in a language Beck didn’t understand.

“He’s cursing you and your entire order,” Drake said.

“I don’t feel very cursed,” Beck replied, meeting the Drurr’s hate-filled eyes.

“Oh, aye. The thing about your god, Arbiter, is he protects you from more than you know. But let’s try this again.” Drake turned his attention back to the mumbling Drurr. “So you came here looking for me?”

“We came here to… destroy you.” The Drurr seemed unsure of its words, and it was trembling with rage.

Drake spoke quickly in the Drurr’s language, and the creature responded in kind. Beck hadn’t thought it was possible that a human could not only understand the Drurrs’ language, but also replicate it. There was certainly more to Drake that she was yet to uncover.

Drake appeared to be growing angrier and angrier as the Drurr spoke, and once it had finished, the pirate turned and let out a wordless scream. The Drurr laughed.

“They came here to destroy me by sinking my fortune,” Drake said, turning back around. “And they picked the worst possible fucking time to do it. Pissing bad luck, they got here just before me.”

“Why?” Beck's compulsion passed through Drake, but as usual found no purchase. “Why are they coming after you?”

“Because she will never let him go,” the Drurr said.

“Shut up,” Drake snapped.

“Who?” Beck asked, her compulsion once again proving ineffective.

“You were her favourite,” the Drurr hissed. “And… she will never let you go. She will destroy you over and over again until you come crawling back on your knees… and beg to be hers again.”

“Who?” Beck leaned closer, her fists clenched.

Even as the Drurr opened his mouth to speak, Drake snatched one of Beck’s pistols from its holster and, before she could stop him, put a bullet in the creature’s chest. The Drurr collapsed, writhing and struggling to breathe. No one made any attempt to save its life. They all stood there and watched it die.