Smithe stared back, and Keelin could see true anger in the man’s eyes. “No.”
The boat below had emptied now, and pirates and townsfolk alike stood on deck watching the confrontation.
“Then it’s a good job your opinion doesn’t mean shit, Smithe,” Keelin replied in a voice as dark and dangerous as a thundercloud. “The captain of this ship just gave an order. If you don’t like it, you can always head back to Sev’relain and find yourself another boat. I don’t have time for your shit right now.”
Keelin turned to his gathered crew. “Get the ship ready to sail. Soon as the Fortune leaves, we’re following her.”
Morley stayed behind as some pirates jumped to their duties and others showed townsfolk to the hold. “Drake Morrass?” he said.
“Temporary arrangement,” Keelin assured him. “Yanic’s dead.”
“What?” Morley’s expression was caught between anger and sorrow. “How?”
“You saw that ship explode? He was a little too close when it went up. That makes you first mate now, Morley.”
“Aye.”
“We gonna need a new quartermaster,” Smithe said, still lingering nearby.
Keelin shot the man a glare. “Aye. It can wait though. Right now we need to get ready to leave. Sev’relain doesn’t have long left and I don’t want to be here when Sarth sails round from the other side of the island.”
There were people in the water, boats in the water, hastily rigged-together rafts in the water, and all were heading towards The Phoenix or the Fortune. Keelin couldn’t tell if Drake had made it back to his ship, but they appeared to be taking on townsfolk all the same. Much of Sev’relain was on fire now. As the afternoon light waned it became more and more apparent that the invaders intended to torch the whole town. Ash and smoke drifted into the sky, and the sounds of fighting were all but lost among the sounds of people dying.
The second longboat bumped against the hull, and Keelin’s crew set about helping people up onto the deck. Some of those in the water, the stronger swimmers, were arriving too. Before long the ship would be full of those who had no home and no use aboard a pirate boat.
Keelin was just about to order the first dinghy back to pick up more townsfolk when soldiers appeared on the docks. There was little in the way of resistance, and they showed no mercy, sparing neither man, woman, nor child. Keelin was more than acquainted with the sight of death, but he felt a little sick to his stomach as he watched the massacre unfold on the beach and piers.
A few enterprising soldiers pulled out bows and began arcing arrows out onto the water. They were too far away to pose any threat to The Phoenix, but the men found their range and one of the boats heading Keelin’s way took a couple of shafts. Fresh screams drifted out over the water.
“Poor bastards are little more than target practice,” Keelin said, more to himself than anyone within earshot.
“I can help there,” Kebble Salt said from nearby. The man unshouldered his rifle and pointed it towards the beach. There was a flash of light and a noise like thunder, and one of the soldiers was thrown to the ground. He lay there, writhing.
“Wind is coming in from the east,” Kebble said as he brought his rifle down and started reloading. “Only winged him.”
Keelin plucked his monoscope from his belt and looked down towards the three soldiers with their bows. One was on the sand, struggling to crawl away, but the other two were still loosing arrows into the water. Keelin heard another bang from Kebble’s rifle and another of the soldiers dropped, but this one didn’t move after he hit the sand. The third soldier took note of his two fallen comrades and fled.
“Impressive,” Keelin said.
“Thank you.” Kebble was already reloading his rifle.
“Keep an eye on the beach. Cover those poor bastards as best you can.”
“Aye.”
Another boat bumped against the hull of the ship; more and more people were arriving. Keelin’s crew were doing their best to get as many of them up on deck as possible. There were still some folk jumping into the water from the piers back in Sev’relain, but the Sarth soldiers were busy murdering by the hundreds and no more boats would make it off the beach.
Only The Phoenix and the Fortune were left in the bay. The other ships – and Keelin remembered there had been a few – hadn’t bothered to take on refugees; they’d fled at the first sign of trouble. Keelin hated to admit it, but he would have joined them if not for Drake’s insistence on helping the folk of Sev’relain. It would, however, take more than one good deed for him to rethink his low opinion of the captain.
Something caught Keelin’s eye, a woman being plucked from the bay and dragged up onto the deck of The Phoenix. She was soaked to her skin from the swim and looked caught between terror and misery, but she was still beautiful to his eyes. It was the serving girl from the tavern, and Keelin found himself staring at her and smiling. He quickly wiped the smile from his face, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Feather moved over to her, no doubt to steer her down into the hold where they would be keeping the refugees. She started to follow the young pirate, keeping her arms held tightly across her chest. Keelin had a brief internal war with his better judgement – he won.
“Feather,” Keelin shouted even as he realised that what he was about to do was a bad idea. “Put that one in my cabin.”
“Um… aye, Cap’n,” the lad said, and changed direction.
The woman looked no more or less alarmed than before; she didn’t even appear to notice she was being taken to the cabin of the captain of a pirate ship. Keelin had seen shock lock people down before; sometimes they became little more than living dolls, but most seemed to snap out of it given enough time. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to consider the woman’s mental health right now, what with a town burning to ash just a short distance away and plenty more survivors wanting rescuing.
Keelin saw the Fortune turn across the bay and her sails billow with the wind. Drake – assuming he had made it to his ship – was leaving even though there were people still in the water. The Phoenix was filling up fast, and if they took on many more mouths they simply wouldn’t have the supplies to save any of them.
“Haul anchor!” Keelin shouted over the noise of the people on his deck. “Get some sail on and put us after the Fortune.” Pirates jumped to his orders in an instant, leaving the refugees on deck unsure of where to go.
Morley took up the orders and began putting the ship and her crew in motion while Keelin moved aft to watch Port Sev’relain’s death throes. There were still people in the water, dozens of them, screaming for help even as The Phoenix picked up speed and left them behind. Some might make it back to the island, hide from the soldiers and survive until it was over, but most would either drown or swim back to shore only to be murdered on the beach.
Once, long ago, Keelin had fancied himself a champion of the people. He would have done anything, sacrificed his ship and crew, in order to save those people. But that was long ago, and things were different now. He turned away from the burning spectacle of Port Sev’relain and focused instead on the ship and captain he was now following.
Chapter 12 - Fortune
Drake was furious. He’d spent years practising the art of schooling his appearance so that his true emotions didn’t show, so that the world only saw the man he wanted them to see, but that didn’t stop him from feeling – and right now he was feeling furious.