“Give us the fool shipwright and crawl back to whatever tavern you stumbled out of, friend,” said the biggest of the six sailors, a man with scruffy brown hair, a thin moustache, a shirt bulging with muscles, and the unmistakeable accent of the Five Kingdoms. He also had bloody knuckles, and most of it undoubtedly belonged to the shipwright who was even now cowering behind Drake.
“Hold there, Jerem,” said the man with the giant hat as he stepped forward and put a hand on his companion’s meaty arm. “I believe this may be the offending party. Fits the description. Are you Captain Drake Morrass?”
Drake tipped the front of his hat. “And you must be Captain Barklow. I’m afraid I haven’t managed to catch your first name.”
“Merridan. Merridan Barklow. And this is my bosun, Jerem Fields.” If any of the other men under Barklow’s command were put out by their lack of introduction they didn’t show it. Drake did, however, notice that all of them were armed with a variety of threatening weaponry.
“Well, this here is my first mate, Princess, and it’s possible you might already know Captain Poole,” Drake said, purposefully not introducing Beck. “Now by the looks of things you appear to be having some form of disagreement with my friend… um…”
“Herence,” said Princess.
“Herence.” Drake spared the bleeding shipwright a glance. “How’s about we talk that over somewhere a little more private?”
Captain Barklow laughed. “Lure us away so the rest of your crew can work us over until we submit? Not fucking likely, Morrass. I know the way you operate. Everyone here knows the way you operate. Only I’m not about to roll over and let you have everything your way. There’s one captain here in Sev’relain with the stones to stand up to you yet.”
A couple of folk nearby, passersby from the town most likely, gave a small cheer at Captain Barklow’s words. Drake couldn’t allow dissent among the people; he needed their support as much as the other captains’. They all needed to see him as their hero, not a villain.
“Actually, I was just going to suggest getting out of this damned heat, but if you like we can do this here. Why are you beating on my shipwright?”
Barklow glared at the assembled crowd before letting his gaze fall on Drake. “We paid for his time, paid for his service to fix the Hearth Fire, and he took our money, agreed to do the job. So what do I find earlier today but his men packing up and leaving my ship half fixed, the job half finished. I asked why, and what did this bilge water say but Drake fucking Morrass has acquired all the shipwrights in town to fix his ship first.
“So I asked him, politely of course, to tell this Drake Morrass to go bugger himself, because those men rightfully belong fixing my ship. The man says he can’t do that. So I took it upon myself to educate him in proper etiquette.”
Drake pulled an affronted expression. “I reckon there might have been some mistake, Captain. It appears he pulled his boys away from your fine ship before I had a chance to approach you myself. I have in fact been trying to find you since this morning to discuss just this matter.” It was only half a lie.
“You have?”
“Aye. See, the Fortune has had a bit of bad luck of late…”
“Not so fortunate,” said the giant bosun with a snigger. It was perhaps telling that no one else joined in, and so Drake ignored the interruption.
“In need of a few repairs here and there…”
“That doesn’t mean you get to jump the line, Morrass,” said Captain Barklow. “We were here first.”
“Usually I’d agree, Captain, but these are exceptional circumstances. You might have heard about the fate of Black Sands.” Many in the crowd started talking, or making protective signs in the air. “Well, you see, the boat that did that – Five Kingdoms navy, I might add…” Another lie well worth telling.
“We left their ranks long ago,” said Captain Barklow defensively.
“Deserters, is it?” Drake said with a grin. “And who could blame you? Ain’t a more noble profession on the seas than piracy. But this ship, I believe it to still be in our waters, making ready to destroy another one of our towns. Well, my crew and I don’t hold to that, and as soon as the Fortune is shipshape again we’re gonna hunt the bastards down and make them pay for what they did and who they killed.” It sounded heroic enough, even if Drake had no idea how to go about it.
A cheer ran through the crowd. Barklow narrowed his eyes at Drake.
“Now that being said, if you think your Hearth Fire is better equipped for the job then we’ll hand over the task to yourselves.”
“I, uh…”
“There’s also the matter of compensation,” Drake continued.
“What?”
“I’m well aware that pulling the men from work on your ship will delay your departure from Sev’relain, and that could well cost you some income.”
“That’s right,” Captain Barklow said quickly.
“Which is why I was looking for you, Captain – to discuss compensation for that delay. Monetary compensation.” Drake knew there was little that bought allies quite like the glint of gold.
“Uh, Captain…” Princess started, but Drake held up a hand to silence him.
“Well, I suppose that does sound fair,” Barklow said slowly. “Assuming we can agree on an amount.”
“Good. Then we’re agreed. So how about we go find that place out of the sun, preferably somewhere with some liquid refreshment, and discuss what we both consider to be an agreeable figure.”
Chapter 7 - The Phoenix
Keelin studied the chart, Yanic made a sour face, and Morley, the quartermaster, sucked in a whistling breath through his teeth. They were crowded around a barrel of salted beef in Quartermain’s office, looking at what was claimed to be a chart of the seas around the Forgotten Empire. Quartermain stood nearby, attempting but failing to show little interest in the crew of The Phoenix.
Keelin scratched at the stubble on his chin, gestured at the chart, opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again and scratched at the stubble on his chin.
“Is that an island or an old stain?” Yanic asked of no one in particular, and received no particular answer.
“What about tis whole area here?” said Morley, pointing to a fairly obvious and significant hole in the parchment.
Keelin plucked a dagger from the corner of the parchment it was pinning down and thrust it through the centre of the chart.
“Hey!” shouted Quartermain. “You damage it, you pay for it.”
Keelin turned a dark glare on the man. “You can take it out of the debt you owe me for setting me up with Elaina.”
Yanic snorted. “Aye, Cap’n. Looked like ya hated every moment of that.”
“That woman has ne’er been owt but trouble fer you, Captan,” said Morley, his bright eyes flashing in his dark face. “Even before you were Captan.”
“Hey.” Keelin suddenly felt very defensive of both himself and, foolishly, Elaina. “She and me may have had some problems in the past but… that ain’t even the issue right now. This chart is shit.”
“You aren’t gonna find a good chart of that region.” Quartermain moved over to stand by his thick-headed son. “Problem is, only one fool is brave enough to go anywhere near that forsaken bit of land, and he ain’t about to give up his charts.”
“Who?” demanded Keelin.
“You know who.” Keelin did know who, but he didn’t want to admit it. “That there is the best you’re gonna get. Take it or leave it. Ten silver bits either way, due to your damaging of the merchandise.”
“You were using it as scrap,” Yanic said.
“Was not.”