Where Loyalties Lie

Chapter 44 - Fortune

“As you can see, Drake, in your absence we’ve made a few improvements.”

Stillwater wasn’t wrong about that. By Drake’s estimate, the size of New Sev’relain had more than doubled in his months away, and not just in the land it now claimed. Hundreds of people were living in the town, and it was a busy, thriving settlement that already came close to rivalling the size of old Sev’relain.

The bones of the Man of War still sat tall and proud on the beach, but it was no more than a skeleton left to remind the folk of the isles just what they were capable of. And the folk of Sarth just what they were up against.

Halfway up the beach, towards the tree line, the docks ended and the town began with stalls set up by enterprising merchants already dotting the sand, and even a few poorly constructed tents offering pirates “Cheap Hores!”. Fire pits, old and new, darkened patches of the sand where those men without enough coin for the tavern kept themselves happy and lubricated.

A large warehouse rose up just apart from the town. It was marked by a number of armed men loitering around the exterior and a raised guard tower to its rear.

One of the first things Drake noticed as they approached the town was a raised wooden stage in what could possibly pass as the town square. Beyond the stage, rushed buildings stretched off in almost every direction with alleys that snaked between in a twisting maze of dirt, trees, waste, and the occasional unconscious pirate.

“What’s that for?” Drake nodded towards the stage.

“Folk built it for a duel,” Stillwater said. “Afterwards, they reckoned it’d be worth keeping around. Public declarations and what not are held there so everyone can hear the news. Lillingburn is gone. Five Kingdoms soldiers took it and burned it to the ground. Bunch of survivors fled here, swelled the population some. We’ve had extra houses knocked up, a second tavern and brothel, but we’re finding problems supplying the taverns with booze and the brothels with whores.”

Drake groaned. He’d been back on dry land for all of five minutes and already he was being saddled with the problems Stillwater was too single-minded to solve.

“What about the whores on the beach?” Drake asked. “The ones in the tents.”

“They ain’t clean,” Stillwater said, sucking on his teeth. “Fuck with them and you’re like to find your cock dropping off. Can’t stop them trying to sell their wares, but we can try to put folk off buying them.”

“How many sailors?” Drake mounted the stage and looked around the town square. A few shops had opened, but they were barely more than well-dressed stalls. Lots of homes and a rough-looking tavern were new. Nearby he could hear the sound of sawing as felled trees were turned into planks of wood for more buildings.

“Three ships’ worth and a few more. Captain Poole and Captain Khan are with us. They’re out pirating right now. Most folk that know how to sail are with one of the crews, except for a few fishermen, but we’re short on those and on boats for them. Besides, I reckon anyone who knows how to fish is more useful than a pirate right now. We’re fine on water, but food is short.”

“How many fighters?”

“We’ve got a few acting as authority around town just to keep the peace. Most folk who can fight are already aboard a ship.”

“Shit.” Drake shook his head.

“What?”

Drake waved towards the port. “I’ve got ships and more coming, but each one is sporting a skeleton crew and even fewer folk who know how to fight. We’ve only had two captains sign up so far?”

Stillwater laughed. “About that. A few others have stopped on by. They ain’t picking sides just yet, Drake. Not while Tanner is on the other one.”

Drake spat. He would happily have cursed Tanner Black if he’d known any that would work. The bastard had been a thorn in Drake’s side for too long, and he needed dealing with sooner rather than later. Before more captains settled on his side.

“Elaina Black stopped by a couple of weeks back,” Stillwater said.

Drake glanced at the man to find him staring out to sea. “That so? We all know about your history with that little snake.”

Stillwater ignored the jibe. “She said Tanner wants to meet you. Too many of our settlements are being destroyed, and too many of our people are being killed…”

“Tanner doesn’t give a fuck about the people,” Drake interrupted.

“He gives a fuck about the isles. He gives a fuck about himself, his family, and his freedom. I don’t know where the captain of the Man of War got those charts, but he didn’t get them from Tanner. And the cold hard truth of it, Drake, is that if you two don’t hammer out some sort of agreement, and soon, none of this we’re doing here will matter a damn. The bastards are trying to kill us, and you two are one step from handing them the knives to do it.”

There was an insufferable clarity in what Stillwater was saying, and Drake knew it. He and Tanner had been circling each other for years, occasionally nipping at the other’s toes, but never going in for the kill, and there was a reason for that. They needed each other if they were going to survive. Drake knew it, and he just hoped Tanner Black knew it too.

“What about the pickings?” Drake said.

Stillwater paused, looking around to make certain no one was within earshot. “They ain’t good. Folk are having to venture further abroad and still coming back with little to nothing. The merchants are starting to avoid the isles, carving out new trade routes, and those are being patrolled by navy.”

“Aye.” Drake nodded. “Make us go further out to catch them while the navy ships come and slaughter our people back here. Can’t keep on like this. We need food, water, ships, weapons, and more than any of that, Stillwater, we need people.”