“We have them feeling threatened, Captain,” Rose continued. “Their two empires have stood on top for too long. They believe themselves to be the peacekeepers of our world, controlling those weaker than themselves. For years they have hunted you pirates, keeping you small and scared of them with their purges. Hanging those they catch.”
“Aye, well, we are outlaws,” Elaina conceded. “We do steal from them.”
“Steal from them?” Rose said. “Is that what they would call confiscating a neighbouring empire’s wares for travelling through their lands without paying for the privilege?”
“Huh?”
“They sail your waters and give you nothing for the use. You don’t rob from them – you just take what you’re owed.”
Elaina wasn’t sure that was the right of it, but it certainly painted the pirates in a much less damning light.
“They have done us a similar injustice, Captain Black,” Rose continued. “For generations they have fuelled the hatred between the blooded families, supplying each of them with weapons, horses, even soldiers.”
“Why?”
“To keep them fighting. To keep the Wilds in turmoil and to stop us uniting under one banner. They are scared, Captain. Scared of us becoming another power in the world and realising we don’t need them. Just like Acanthia doesn’t need them. Just like the Dragon Empire doesn’t need them. There are four great empires of man in the world, and the last thing either Sarth or the Five Kingdoms wants is another.”
“You want us to keep fighting,” Elaina said, sure of herself now. “We’re taking the heat away from you.”
“Yes. You pirates are, on the surface, a much greater threat than I am. Every ship they throw at you makes it all the less likely they’ll sail up here and put another army on my field. Or even worse, give their support to that blooded arse, Niles Brekovich.
“At the same time, every ship I do not lose to you pirates makes me that bit stronger.” Rose leaned forwards and fixed Elaina with a dark stare. “I need you to stop pirating my ships, and I need you to fight the bastards who are trying to kill you. If possible, I would like you to win.”
“So why me? Why not my da, or Morrass?”
“Because you are a woman, and because you are young, and because I can see ambition in you. I make no apologies for opinions. Drake may well be better suited to rule, but I do not trust what he might do with such power. All he has ever wanted was the crown and for others to call him king. All your father wants is to stop Drake from having whatever he wants. In you, I see someone unburdened by such pettiness.”
Elaina licked her lips. She was certain she now knew the truth of it. “We needs ships, fighters, and food.”
“Done,” Rose said without hesitation. “Ten ships, fully crewed and carrying stores of food. All sailing for you and no one else. I will need sixty days to prepare them. I presume you can hold out that long?”
“Aye, though best make it ninety. I got another stop before home. My da wants a similar alliance from the guilds of Larkos.”
Rose laughed. “Good luck. The guilds give nothing without payment up front.”
“Aye, well I’m better off trying than not, with my da.”
A long silence blanketed the room. Rose narrowed her eyes and gave Elaina a queer stare. Eventually the Lady of Chade poured herself another glass of rosy liquid, and then a second for Elaina.
“To our new alliance, Captain Black, and to both our empires.”
Elaina took the glass and drank deeply. It was hard to believe, but she’d just secured herself a fleet of ships along with the crews to sail them and she’d offered so very little in return. There was no way her father could be disappointed in her now.
“He won’t hang,” Elaina said. “My da. Come what may, he won’t hang.”
Rose smiled, fanning herself again. “We’ll see.”
Chapter 4 - North Gale
Days passed without any sort of indication as to what was happening above decks. The brig was secured tighter than a virgin’s arse, and the only light came from the lanterns the guards carried when they fed and mocked the prisoners. For much of each day T’ruck was in near complete darkness, with only the scurrying of mice and the distant sounds of his own crew, to keep him company.
He talked to his crew and learned that only twenty-two of them had survived the sinking of their ship. Three-quarters of them either died on the end of Five Kingdoms steel or drowned in the waters of the isles when Storm Herald ploughed through North Gale, splitting it right down the midsection.
The door to the brig opened and light spilled in. A moment later a storm lantern poked through the opening, followed by the squat-faced guard whose uniform was slightly too short for him. T’ruck didn’t know the man’s name. He didn’t need to know the names of all the men he would kill. The guard sniffed the air and sighed.
“Buckets need emptying again.”
“It’s your turn,” someone else growled.
“I say we just let them stew in it for a few days.” The squat-faced one laughed.
T’ruck approached the bars, grabbing hold of them and flexing his muscles, once again testing his own strength against that of the tempered metal. For the hundredth time the bars proved to be the stronger of the two. The squat-faced guard watched him with a sneer on his squat face.
“Big bastard is trying to break free again.”
“Starve him again,” said the other voice. “Fuck it, starve all of them. More food for us. Get precious bloody little as it is without feeding criminals.”
The guard laughed and closed the door, once again bathing T’ruck and his surviving crew in darkness.
The next time the door to the brig opened it was the squat-faced guard and his storm lantern once again, but this time he looked far from comfortable. His back was straighter, and his uniform, though still slightly too small, looked as though he’d recently fussed about smoothing it down.
T’ruck was lounging against the bars to his cell, but rose when the door opened. No matter what was sent into the brig, he would meet it on his feet.
“The admiral said to put her in with the others,” said a new voice, one with an air of command. “And I’m to make sure it’s done personally.”
There was some grumbling, and T’ruck thought he heard mention of the admiral’s mother, but there seemed to be an agreement to follow the orders and the guard started into the brig, followed leisurely by a beautiful woman with raven hair and an iron collar. A tall man in an officer’s coat followed her in and shut the door behind them. He stayed there at rigid attention, standing guard.
As the guard walked past T’ruck’s cell, the woman tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to face her, his eyes going wide as they met hers.
T’ruck leaned into the bars and caught a glimpse of the woman’s eyes. They were a swirling mass, almost like a bag of snakes writhing against each other. T’ruck found himself being drawn in, unable to look away.
“Please control yourself, Captain Khan,” the witch said in a voice like an ice bath. “It is hard enough to keep these two under my sway without your attempt to subjugate yourself.”
T’ruck shook himself free of her spell and dragged his eyes away from hers.
“Open the door to this cell,” the witch said sweetly, and the squat-faced guard began fumbling for his keys.
T’ruck noticed the officer standing at the door to the brig stumble and shake his head. The witch snapped her head around and locked her evil eyes onto the officer’s. “I would be very grateful, my dear, if you would just wait there for now.”