Aimi let out a single sob, and Keelin turned. Her head was buried in her hands and her shoulders were trembling. He left his spot at the window and went over to the bed, sitting down next to her and putting an arm around her. She shrugged it away. Keelin persisted, and the second time Aimi didn’t resist.
“I shouldn’t be crying,” she said. “I’m angry with you.”
“I know.”
“This ship is my home.”
“I know.”
“This crew are my family. I don’t want to leave.”
“I know.” Keelin wished he had something else to say, but he’d already made his decision and there was nothing she could say to change his mind.
They were both silent for a long time. Aimi stopped crying and seemed content to rest her head against Keelin’s chest. It was nice, and far more comfortable than they’d been for a long time.
“Don’t die,” she said quietly.
“I don’t intend to.”
She pulled away from him then and gave him a strange look. He had no idea what she was thinking, but there was sadness in her eyes. Eventually, she stood and started to gather her things.
Chapter 55 - King’s Justice
Daimen woke to a hammering at his door. It was a small cabin, little more than a hammock and some space to stand. He’d tried his best to make it his own, but it wasn’t an easy task given that he currently owned nothing. The door wasn’t locked; Admiral Wulfden had had the lock removed, so Daimen had set up a chair that provided him some measure of privacy – or at least some warning should they come for him.
“Poole,” shouted someone from the other side. “Open this door now or I will break it down and nail you to the mizzenmast.”
Daimen sighed. Everything was threats these days, either blatant or implied. He knew they didn’t trust him, but it grated that they felt the need to remind him of it at every possible opportunity. He missed the days of being a captain. Being respected and trusted. Drake might be a lying, murderous bastard willing to slaughter women and children to further his own desires, but at least Daimen hadn’t been living with a noose around his neck while sailing for him.
“I’m comin’, ya ungrateful sods,” he growled.
“Now, Poole.”
“In a hurry ta see my cock, are ya? As ya want, mate.” Daimen swung his legs onto the deck and pulled the chair away from the door, which slammed open a moment later. He made a show of stretching and scratching at his stones.
“Urgh,” grunted the square-jawed officer on the other side of the door, looking away in obvious distaste. “Get some clothes on, Poole. Quickly. The admiral is eager for your advice.”
“Aye?” Daimen said with a laugh. “First time for everything, I guess.”
He would have liked to take his time getting dressed, if for no other reason than to annoy the admiral. Unfortunately Officer Square-Jaw was having none of it, and the man’s sword looked a little loose in its scabbard. Something had got the whole ship riled up, and it wasn’t until Daimen joined Admiral Wulfden on the forecastle that he saw just what it was.
“Fuck me,” Daimen breathed as he looked out across the sea.
“You lied to us, Poole,” Wulfden said.
“I didn’t fucking lie.” Daimen winced as the admiral’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t lie.” He was very aware of the host of armed soldiers at his back.
“You said we could expect a maximum of thirty ships. You said you suspected there would, in fact, be far fewer than that.”
“How many ships are there?”
“Over fifty,” the admiral growled. “It’s hard to form an exact count. We suspect they are dangerously close to equalling our numbers.”
“Huh. I wonder where they got all those boats.” Wulfden turned an angry glare on Daimen, who quickly stepped backwards, hands held up before him. “I swear, Admiral, on my dear old ma’s grave, I did not see this coming.”
There were ships everywhere. They were stretched out across the horizon, with equal numbers on either side of King’s Justice. More masts than Daimen could count, and all were floating amidst the endless blue, as though none of them wanted to be the first to attack.
“Is that Storm Herald?” said one of the officers.
“Yes,” said the admiral. “That explains why she never returned. How could the pirates manage to capture her?”
“Resourceful and resilient bastards, eh?” Daimen said with a laugh cut short when the admiral sent another glare his way.
One of the officers shoved a monoscope into Daimen’s hands.
“Identify the most prominent targets please, Poole.”
“Aye aye, Admiral.” Daimen raised the monoscope to his eyes and scanned the horizon. “That one there is The Black Death, captained by Tanner Black himself. There’s The Phoenix, captained by Drake’s right hand, Keelin Stillwater. And right next to her is the Fortune. Ya take out those three and you’ll break the back of the entire isles.”
“Send the signal to attack, Commander,” Admiral Wulfden said. “Raise sails and prepare the ballistae. I want as many ships sunk as possible in the first salvo. Let's hope our other turncoat is more useful than you, Poole.”
Chapter 56 - Fortune
“Looks like they’re coming, Cap’n,” Princess said, sounding maudlin. “I reckon this’d be our last chance to turn tail and chase the horizon.”
Drake plucked the monoscope from his first mate’s grasp and stared at the fleet arrayed against them. They were all starting to pile on sail and the lead ships were gathering speed. Princess wasn’t wrong – this was their last chance to run.
“Get us moving, Princess,” he said coldly. “Right at them.”
“Reckon I’m gonna die here in this nameless stretch of water,” Princess mumbled.
Drake laughed. “Oracle has seen my future, and it’s not today.”
“Wonderful,” Princess said as he stepped backwards. “Didn’t happen to ask about my future, did ya? Thought not.” He let out a sigh before raising his voice to a practised shout. “Sails up, lads. We’re shoving it right down their throats.”
A cheer went up, and before long Drake could hear it passing down the line of ships, thousands of pirates taking up the shout as they readied themselves for the bloodiest battle any of them had ever known.
“Can we expect any help from your god?” Beck said. Her voice was trembling. It didn’t seem right for the Arbiter to get so scared about a bit of a fight, but then Drake had long ago learned that you just couldn’t predict how folk would react when the time came. People died in wars, and no matter how strong or important you were, you had just as much chance of dying as the next poor sod.
“No more than we’ll get off yours,” he said with a glance backwards and a grin. “It ain’t really her way.”
“Sure would be nice to have one of those leviathans pop up and do the work for us.” The Arbiter looked pale, almost sick. Drake pitied her for that. The fear of the fight sure explained her ferocity in bed of late though. Drake grinned as he remembered their latest encounter and how sore it had left him.
“Aye, that’d be a fine sight,” he said. “Ain’t likely to happen though. We’re gonna have to win this one ourselves.”
Next to the Fortune, Stillwater’s boat was starting to pick up speed, straining to take the lead and meet with the enemy. It was some fine work to slow the ship down just a little to keep it in line with all the others. Drake’s plan was simple. North Storm would lead the attack – the ship was a monster with a metal ram that would make driftwood out of any that got in her way. With Captain Khan’s ship in the centre of the attack, the others would form into a wedge formation and sail right into the enemy lines. Their orders were to prioritise helping out their neighbours, two ships against one as much as possible, to keep the numbers on their side. Once the battle started, though, it was likely that any sort of tactics would go right out of the window. Ship to ship and man to man, the pirates would win. They had to win. They had so much more to lose than their enemy.