Drake felt himself growing warm and sticky under his clothing, but it would take more than hot weather and a lack of a breeze to remove him from his jacket and hat. Instead, he decided somewhere with a more indoors locale was in order, and preferably somewhere that served something wet and alcoholic. With those thoughts in mind he made for the Piper’s Flock.
“Run off down to the docks, Princess. Find the Hearth Fire and let me know when you discover where its captain might be hiding.”
Princess didn’t change direction. “What if he’s already having a drink?” the first mate said, pointing at the tavern.
“Then I reckon we’ll be seeing you real soon.” Drake dismissed the man with a wave towards the docks and continued on.
With a groan Princess turned and trudged off through the heat and dust towards the harbour. Drake spared the man a quick glance, but he couldn’t be seen to care too much for a single disgruntled crewman, even if he did count Princess as a friend and ally.
“The more loyal the dog, the more it hurts when kicked,” Arbiter Beck said smugly just as Drake reached the door to the tavern.
Taking his hand from the door, Drake turned to find Arbiter Beck taking off her hat and shaking out her golden blond hair, which reached down past her shoulders and made her skin glow in the bright light of the sun. Drake decided right then that there wasn’t much he wouldn’t pay to see Arbiter Beck naked, but that was a matter for another day.
“Cover your ears, Byron,” Drake said to the giant, who looked either pleasantly uninterested, bemused, or possibly constipated; it was hard to tell, as the man’s head seemed too small for his body and his features too large for his head. Despite his inscrutable expression, the big man took two meaty hands to his ears and covered them obediently, which made for a strange sight and no mistake.
“You might wanna be careful who ya go calling a dog, Arbiter,” Drake said. “Some folk around here don’t take too kind to such insults. Even folk as placid as my first mate can be a real terror when ireful. And you don’t reward loyalty with laxity. Now, just what were you and he arguing about earlier, down on the beach? Looked fair intense.”
“You said I should take all issues to Princess,” Arbiter Beck said with a cold stare. “You were quite adamant on the matter, as I recall.”
“Aye.”
“Well, I’ve taken an issue to Princess, and if he knows what’s good for him he’ll soon start handling it.”
Curiosity nagged at Drake, but he had enough matters to worry about and he trusted that Princess would acquiesce to the Arbiter’s demands without giving away the ship. With a shrug he tapped the hulking Byron on his arm, and the giant uncovered his ears.
“Fancy a drink, Byron?” Drake said slowly.
Byron seemed to think about that for a moment, then looked up at the tavern. “Piper’s Flock. One copper bit for an ale,” he said quietly. “Two copper bits for rum. For five copper bits ya get a room an’ a woman.” The giant’s mouth twitched up into what Drake could only assume was a smile. “Carol always calls me sweetie and pats my arm.”
Drake winced. “Carol ain’t here no more, Byron. Not since you… It’s why you don’t get to go anywhere on your own no more.”
Something close to a frown pulled Byron’s features into a strange mimic of the expression. “I like Carol.”
“I know,” Drake said. “Come on, let’s get us a drink, eh? Just one for you though.” With a friendly wink Drake took hold of the giant’s arm and led him through the door.
Inside, the tavern was busy but not bursting. Pirates and residents of Sev’relain occupied the tables in equal numbers, and Drake spotted a few of his own crew wisely spending their shore leave in the company of alcoholic substances, some drunk, some spilled. Why folk felt the need to waste good drink by spilling it was something Drake would never understand. The mood of the tavern seemed merry despite the recent ominous news, and an energetic musician with a trio of pipes was quite loudly making his presence known. A cheer went up from Drake’s boys when they spotted him, and the owner saw him only a moment later.
“He ain’t allowed in here!” the tavern keep stated very firmly, hurrying over towards Drake and his strange procession.
“Aye, he is,” Drake stated even more firmly. “He’ll be quiet as a breeze. You won’t even know he’s here.”
“I don’t give half a shit how quiet he is. He…”
“Listen,” Drake said cheerfully as he put one hand on the owner’s shoulder and the other in front of his face. “We’re all staying, Byron included. Now, here’s one for the privilege.” With a flick of his fingers a silver bit appeared in Drake’s hand. “And two for the drinks.” Another flick, another bit. The man’s eyes went wide with greed.
“Quiet as a breeze?” he said as he reached for the coins.
“A particularly calm one at that,” Drake cooed as he handed over the two silver bits. “Grog for me and all my crew, eh.”
As the owner scuttled off, Drake waved over to the table where his crew were seated. “Pip, look after Byron. One drink and then you take him back to the ship.”
If Pip harboured any ill will about being made sitter for the giant, he showed none of it but instead leapt up and swaggered over to take charge of Byron, leading him back to the table.
Drake selected a table of his own and sat down. Waiting patiently for his drink, he leaned backwards and placed his boots upon the table. Beck, thankfully not wearing her Arbiter’s coat, sat down opposite Drake and shot him a curious look.
“You didn’t bring him along to intimidate?” she said over the general din of the tavern, and Drake shrugged off the nagging feeling of her compulsion attempting to lock onto his will.
“Oh, Byron may be intimidating, but he’s less than useless in any sort of altercation. No, I brought him ’cos if I don’t get him off the ship from time to time he’ll never leave. He ain’t much one for social situations unless someone drags him. He enjoys himself a drink when he’s out though. And the crew shine on him some.”
Two mugs arrived and Drake took a deep swallow. He tasted rum heavily watered down by ale. It wasn’t fine drinking, but it was close to the best Sev’relain had to offer, at least this side of town. Opposite him, Beck picked up her drink cautiously, sniffed at it, and with a shrug followed Drake’s lead.
“What happened to Carol?” Beck said eventually, much to Drake’s satisfaction. He’d wondered how long she’d be able to last before asking. The thing about people accustomed to hearing the truth from folk is that they’re curious by nature. “Why didn’t that man want Byron in here?”
“Ain’t really his fault. Byron simply isn’t all there.” Drake tapped his head. “Never met anyone quite so good with numbers and what not, but…” Drake drummed the fingers of his right hand on the table. “Ain’t really my place to say.”
“Quit the false modesty, Morrass,” Beck said with a snort that was out of place with her delicate features. “I’d bet you know everything that happens with your crew, and you consider it all your business as much as theirs. My guess is you just enjoy being able to withhold information from an Arbiter.”
“I reckon it does more to darken your mood than it does to lighten mine,” Drake said after another pull on the rum. “Byron doesn’t fight. He keeps the books, watches the money, and stays below when there’s trouble or piracy to be done. Far as I’m aware he’s never picked up a weapon, nor swung a fist in anger.
“About a year back we were merrily docked here at Sev’relain. Couple of the boys took Byron for a few drinks under my orders. Carol was always nice to him but… well, Byron went outside for a piss and a few ticks later someone heard him scream. Folk rushed outside to find Carol’s head a mite thinner than it used to be and Byron with the red of the crime all over his hands, shouting about the darkness having tried to take them both. No one could make any sense of it, and the townsfolk didn’t take too kind to what was clearly murder.”