Malspire

  Chapter Eight

  "That'd be the third rebel we've seen, Captain," said Harl as he spied north to a distant rebel frigate.

  "As long as they ignore us," I said.

  Nerves on the ship were running high. Nobody said as much, but I could feel it. The Wraith Deep as the Lady Ocean was now called, cut through the choppy waves. Shipping intensified the deeper we went into enemy waters, and we began to spy the enemy navy. We were entering the Calandia Sea, a large region of water surrounded by the lands of Calandia - the rebel held lands, as well as wild barbarian lands backing onto the western Outer Oceans, a region the Empire was never able to tame. We flew the flag of the rebels.

  "Should we change course, sir?" said Olvan.

  "No. Be bold. We must stick to the lanes. Invite them to investigate and they will ignore us. Run, and they will pounce like a spider on a trapped fly." At least that is what I presumed would happen.

  The charts covering this region had precious little information on such things as shipping lanes so we just followed other ships. I hoped this casual approach would bring us through uninspected and it worked until we were within sight of the port of Sulenfir.

  Sulenfir was a major trading point and naval base situated a mile or so out to sea on a small island dedicated to the town and its harbour. The buildings where mostly timber structures with exposed framework and domed roofs painted in greens and yellows. Apparently the style of architecture in this region was a mixture of Imperial Emben and native folk who lived in domed huts in the eastern wildernesses. The only building to be classically Imperial was the harbour fort, a massive stone and mortar thing that boorishly squatted like a dark boil amongst the prettier timber buildings. Beyond the island was a network of bridges that jumped from rock to rock, leading all the way to the mainland.

  Above us flew three black gulls, a bad sign and some of the sailors surreptitiously made small offerings to the sea spirits. I had seen this before whenever the black gulls had been sighted, and Harl told me it was an old tradition, so I let the men throw their copper away if it made them feel any better. When I saw Willan looking nervously up at them, I gave him a silver coin which he happily cast to the depths. Better safe than sorry.

  As we neared the entrance to the harbour, we saw navy boats patrolling the waters, inspecting shipping as it both came and went. It seemed security was tight here and I could see why. A grand battleship was in port along with its escort of battleships and frigates and cargo ships. It was a large fleet. A senior admiral must be visiting, and I cursed my luck, having hoped for less enemy navy. At least there would be plenty of lectrocoders and the code books that came with them. Now the place was probably full of the strange devices, but gaining entrance would be all the harder.

  “They’re turning ships away,” said Harl who was again at the wheel.

  “I know. What reason do we have to make port here?”

  “Perhaps we should find another port,” Olvan suggested

  “Perhaps," I admitted, but was acutely aware of the fact that we had been lucky to get this far unquestioned. The longer we were in these waters, the greater the chance that we would be discovered. "We're here now. We might as well test our disguise. Anyway, if we're seen to turn away now, they'll surely get suspicious and inspect us anyway.” To get in we will undoubtedly be questioned, but better to get it done once now. Get it done and over with.

  “Aye,” agreed Harl.

  "Be bold, Mister Olvan. We're pirates, brigands, privateers! Go in at a good speed as though we have every right in the world to dock here. Go like we have business."

  "But how do we get through? We have no good reason to dock here."

  "Let me worry about that, Mister Olvan,” I said as a plan came to mind.

  The first thing I did was visit Doctor Eebel. The doctor was sober and still looking after the injured from the Sealorn attack. I had earlier seen that the doctor had a human skull on a small bookshelf, and took it without explanation. I then went to my cabin which was already clear of anything to do with the Imperial and Ardalrion Navy, and cleared one of the smaller side tables. Then I went below decks to the engine room and had the men retrieve a couple of the boxes hidden in the coal pile. From these boxes, I took the Imperial Navy flag, my family signet ring, my naval uniform and my naval papers. Returning to my cabin, I arranged them all on the table with the skull in the middle and the ring in front of it. The skull was relatively new, and could still pass as a recent kill.

  Ten minutes later, I was back on the castle and watched as a frigate made to intercept us. Making one last quick round of the ship, I reminded all the men that they were privateers, and also checked that nothing would give us away, then returned to the deck just in time to give a casual salute to the rebel captain. The enemy frigate was called The Dragonfly, and she looked to be in good order. Her guns were run out but probably only as a precaution.

  “Turn you ship away and make for an alternative port,” called a junior office over the short span of water.

  I stepped up to the gunwale. Cupping my hands, I answered: “We have business with the Admiral, and will make port here!”

  “What is your name and purpose here?”

  I now whispered a silent prayer to any gods that might be listening. “I am Captain Yorlwig, a privateer in the service of your illustrious navy with a letter of marque that gives me the right to hunt down and destroy enemy shipping be it navy or merchant.”

  The officer had a word with his captain, who shook his head. “The port is only open to naval shipping. You are a privateer and so you must find another port.”

  “I will not.”

  At this, the captain of the frigate turned to face me having acted above such trivial concerns until now.

  “Admiral Darcentos has given explicit orders that all none naval vessels are to be turned away. You will take your ragtag crew and turn that rotting hull around,” he said indicated the Wraith Deep. “And leave before we make you run before the barrels of our heavy guns!”

  “I have a gift for the Admiral. It has taken me months of hard seas and battle, but I have returned with a prize and I will present it to him!”

  “And what would this prize be?”

  “The head and signet ring of Captain Lord Malspire Ardalrion, son of Lord Admiral Ardalrion of the Imperial Emben and Ardalrion Navy.” When I said it, I felt a chill run down my spine at the lie as though I had somehow determined my own future death.

  The captain had another word with his officer, and then called up a marine sergeant who he sent running with orders. Then the enemy captain had another word with the officer who returned his attention to me.

  “Prepare to be boarded.” He called. “Captain Raxoen will see this prize.”

  She came alongside and ropes were thrown over, and then pulled tight so the two ships soon met with a thud. Steps were placed on both sides of the ship’s two gunwales and a party of green clad rebel marines quick marched over the bridge to The Wraith Deep. Then Captain Raxoen came across and I met him on the main deck with an extended hand. The enemy captain turned his nose up at the offer and the look of my back.

  “Show me,” he demanded with open disgust.

  I went to my cabin door and opened it, letting the other captain in first, but before he could, two marines ran in to check that all was clear. On their signal the captain, ducking and removing his hat, entered. He was a tall man, young and quite thin, with an unfortunate bald patch. He had a thin moustache and dark rings under his deep set eyes. I followed him in and then directed him to the table with the flag, skull and signet ring as well as a few other trinkets that might have belonged to an enemy captain of such high birth. The captain took up the ring in his gloved hand and studied it. Then he picked up the skull and frowned at the tastelessness of keeping such a prize.

  “The letter of marque,” he demanded, returning the skull.

  I went to my desk and took it from a draw, then handed it to the captain who opened it up and stud
ied it.

  “Yorlwig?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I have heard this name before.”

  I froze, but quickly forced myself to smile. “Of course! I am Captain Yorlwig of the Wraith Deep. Few have not heard of me!”

  “Indeed,” said the captain handing back the letter. As he did so I saw him shiver at the site of me and my bent back. “I will take the prize and present it to the Admiral,” Raxoen then declared as though I would be an affront to his admiral's eyes.

  “No!” I spoke too harshly and had to backtrack. “I mean, it is a thing of honour. I must be allowed to present it myself. I am duty bound to fulfil my mission from beginning to end. What end would it be if I do not present the prize myself?”

  “That is not possible....”

  “That is the head of Lord Admiral Ardalrion’s son! I have struck a blow to the very heart of the Empire’s leadership, and I demand that I present the gift myself!” I interrupted.

  “Malspire you say? I have heard he had a son, but I thought he was named Ajator."

  "He has or had two sons. Malspire was the second and now he is dead."

  "Hmm. Is this all you took? You have the flag. What about the ship?”

  “Alas it sank shortly after we took her. We gave her a full broadside before boarding and with a freak wave, the shot went below the waterline.”

  I realised that The Wraith Deep was not damaged and quickly embellished the tale. “We surprised her and her crew, and managed to avoid a major gun battle, but the enemy was not so fortunate.”

  A thought struck me so I led the captain to my desk and then opened my drinks cabinet from which I produced a bottle of unopened Nar-Dom spiced wine and two glasses. Captain Raxoen frowned when he saw the bottle.

  “Is something wrong, Captain Raxoen?” I said, feigning ignorance.

  “Is that Nar-Dom?”

  “It says so.”

  Nar-Dom spiced wine was one of the finest wines available and a bottle cost a fortune by anyone’s standards, but I was playing the gutter fool.

  “I found it in Captain Malspire’s cabinet before the ship sank. Would you like some?”

  The captain was obviously torn between wasting the wine with some low life privateer, or not having any at all.

  “Perhaps you are not supposed to drink when on duty,” I added smoothly, seeing Raxoen’s anguish.

  “Please, take this bottle and enjoy it in your own time.”

  With a genuine look of surprise, the captain took the bottle and held it reverentially.

  “I have another.”

  The rebel captain looked up and saw it in the cabinet.

  “Now I can see that you are a man who knows his wine, and to be honest, I would not know the difference between a bottle of cat spit and a bottle of angel's tears. Perhaps we could come to some arrangement?”

  The captain saw the game I was playing, but did not seem to suspect me of anything worse than trying to bribe him so I could fulfil my mission and personally gain the glory.

  “How long do you intend to stay?”

  “Just until I get an audience. Just until I can present the prize.”

  I took the second bottle from the cabinet and held it out to the captain who gave it a longing look. It was not hard to see him imagining himself showing off the bottle to his fellow officers and captains. I had purchased them on a whim from a dealer in Umuron, thinking I would open them if ever I was to play host to an admiral or another captain I might like.

  “If I see you in port more than three days, I will hunt you down,” he said taking the bottle, and hiding the two of them inside his coat.

  With that, The Wraith Deep made her way into the harbour. There was precious little space for her, but I spotted a jetty not too close to the rebel naval ships and made for it. We had to pass the grand battleship and felt quite dwarfed by her scale, having to look far up the cliff like, curved hull to see the crew running about their business on deck. She was called The Formidable Awe and looked it with countless guns, buttresses, towers, and vast great paddle wheels at her stern that rose to the height of The Wraith Deep’s funnel. I wondered at the size of its engines.

  Another ship was tied up alongside her. A small transport that at first held no interest, but then I looked again. I knew that ship. She was called the Water Horse. I could not be sure, but had I not seen just such a transport in Umuron not long ago?

  "Are you alright, sir?" said Olvan. The man had to be calmed down once the rebel had let us pass. He admitted that he had been sure that when the two captains had entered the cabin, only one would come out and when the rebel captain came out first, Olvan had nearly drawn his sword.

  "What?"

  "Is something wrong, sir?"

  "That ship."

  "Yes?"

  "While we are here, I want you to make sure we have a man watching it at all times. I want to know who leaves it and who boards it. Have Mister Sudlas watch it. He has a keen eye."

  "Yes, sir. May I ask why?"

  "No. Just see to it."

  "Yes, sir."

  We reached the dock, and I gave the order for all the crew to stay aboard. It was far too risky to let them go ashore, and even had Sergeant Lamtak post men on guard to stop any of them from sneaking off. I then went into town together with Harl to reconnoitre the place. Before leaving, I turned to look at the Water Horse and saw then Mister Sudlas was even now watching it through a spy glass, after which I then turned my attention back to the task at hand.

  “Looks like any other Imperial port to me,” I said.

  “It was Imperial, not so long ago, Captain” said Harl.

  There were the subtle differences in architecture and clothing but otherwise it was unmistakably Imperial Emben. The charismatic leader of the rebels, Krist Jarahn Valthorn had managed to convince the lords of this region to join his cause and fight a fight that would end the rule of blood. Of course this was not good for those lords but they probably had guarantees such as the one made to Ajator, or perhaps they were a more enlightened people in the west. No longer would they pay tribute to the Emperor who lived a world away in the east. The west was to be free and so they rebelled. Valthorn was a criminal traitor, often depicted as an evil vulture in the Gazette whereas in the non-Imperial publications, he was seen as a hero, tall and handsome. He was undoubtedly somewhere in between like everyone else but probably possessed of a keener mind than most. I would have liked to meet the man, but that would never happen.

  The rebel navy had obviously taken over most of the town, but I was not worried about this. Every town has its fair share of brothels, and I was on the lookout for a finer establishment.

  It was an odd feeling walking amongst the enemy, acting as though we were meant to be there. At times I felt like everyone was watching me, but when I looked round, nobody seemed to be taking any notice at all. At the same time I felt quite excited to be in the lion’s den, right under the nose of the enemy, and about to commit a terrible crime in their eyes and a heroic deed in the Emperor's. So far we had outwitted them, and with any luck, we would pull off the crime and the rebels would be none the wiser.

  Turning a corner off the main street up from the harbour, we found what we was looking for. Officers and gentlemen were coming and going from a building that was in fine repair, with doors wide open and welcoming at the top of a short flight of stone steps. Outside the three storey building stood a pair of fine looking ladies as advertisements for what lay within.

  “This looks about right, Mister Harl. What do you think?”

  “Over my deck, Captain, but if it’s officers you want, then that’s probably the best place to look.”

  There was a side road leading down behind the building and I left Harl as a lookout while I went to investigate. It was just an alley and had empty barrels stacked along the walls as well as the odd man sleeping under rags. A small mongrel growled at me. Behind the building, the alley ended when it met the wall of yet another house. There w
as a back entrance which was closed. Looking up, I saw row upon row of shuttered windows all closed to the prying eyes of neighbouring buildings. I returned to Harl who was winking at one of the girls on the steps.

  “Perfect. Let’s get back to the ship and get ready. I want to be back here by sundown, and I need to look respectable.”

  Some hours later, my long coat was beaten, brushed and pressed, my boots polished and I even managed to find a respectable pair of breaches, frilly shirt, waistcoat and a bicorn hat, courtesy of Mister Olvan. Using the long mirror the previous captain had installed in the cabin, I looked quite respectable although I could never make clothing look good the same way my brother did. My clothing at least made me look a little more presentable. I would never be able to totally hide the lump on my back however.

  Mister Olvan sighed. "I suppose it will have to do, Captain."

  Frowning at the comment, I thought I looked better than that.

  “I look like a frilly city boy! Don’t the women fall over themselves for men dressed like this?”

  “Well... It's not that simple, sir.”

  “Are you saying I’m just an ugly mongrel dressed like a groomed stallion, Mister Olvan?”

  “No!” said Olvan, Willan who dressed me could not suppress a smile.

  “Yes you are. And you’re right too, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not chasing fancy ladies today. I need to look respectable, that’s all.”

  “You look a lot more respectable, Captain.”

  I grunted, and felt uncomfortable in these clothes, uncomfortable and worried. Obein Klarans had been spotted, the man who had invited Ajator into the Ship of Mariners. At least I was sure it was him. Sudlas had reported a man with red hair, a missing ear and two missing fingers moving from the grand battleship to the transport and back. I did not know the ways of the Secret Servants, but was sure there was foul play at work. Klarans was either a rebel spy or working both sides. What did this mean for Ajator? I did not have time to ponder this now, but I was determined to get to the bottom of it when we returned to Umuron.

  Worryingly more rebel navy had arrived too. What were the rebels up to? Already there was a force large enough to strike at Umuron. This must have something to do with Klarans' presence in Sulenfir. Was my duty to head back at once and warn High Admiral Villor? No. The rebel fleet was large enough to wipe out the depleted Western Fleet. If we could get a code book first it would give the Imperial Navy a better chance. A chance at surprising the enemy fleet. I would go ahead with the plan.

  “I need your sword.”

  Olvan undid his belt and handed the sword and scabbard to me, fitting it where I normally kept my heavy cutlass. Taking a last look in the mirror, I sighed and left the cabin to find Harl and Jodlin.

  The establishment had no visible name but the ladies at the front door welcomed me to "Lillan’s Palace". The door was now closed as night drew in, but was opened from the inside by a burly door guard. In the reception room, my coat and hat were taken by a woman who then pointed out that she had not seen me before.

  “My name is Captain Karn,” I answered playing with my bulging money purse which had the desired effect. She smiled brightly. I did not want to use my assumed name here as there was a very good chance that Captain Yorlwig was a known customer and so plucked a new name from the air.

  “Welcome, Captain Karn. When leaving please be sure to pick up your coat and hat and then you will also be given the chance to settle the bill.”

  “Very good. Would you be so kind as to show me the way?”

  She ushered me into a large room that was full of people talking, drinking and laughing. It was a fine house with fine furnishing, rich tastes and lavish carpets. Chandeliers lit the place and a large fire burned in one wall with padded chairs facing it. The ladies wandered round the room, serving the officers and gentlemen who sat at tables and at a bar, who played cards and smoked pipes and cigars. I was immediately set upon by two beautiful girls who asked what my pleasure was?

  “Cards. I am in need of a game of cards and a bottle of wine.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  They took me to one of the gaming tables and I began to spend money. Drinking little, I played with the girls and I talked to men, mingling, as high society did. I forced myself to smile more, and forced a joviality that was painful but required. Customers came and went, girls played the perfect hostesses, and I felt for them. The type of place I would normally frequent had a cockier, more independent type of woman who had no qualms about complaining and grumbling, but were always happy enough to take your money. Here the girls just smiled and giggled on cue. They put on perfectly innocent faces and were probably called upon to perform the most perverted acts without the slightest complaint. This type of harlot wore out quickly and what happened to them after was anyone’s guess; perhaps the mad house?

  Inevitably it started getting late. I was still at the table and was pleased to note that I had not lost too much money, but was frustrated at not finding the chance I had been waiting for. The House was a small man with spectacles and a quick card hand. We played Crows Heads, a simple gambler’s game that was currently the fashion although it had been a peasant’s game originally. At the table was myself, a naval officer, a young gentleman who was probably also an officer but in civilian clothing and a rather portly middle-aged lady who looked completely out of place, yet at the same time, completely at home.

  The game was played with an odd deck that was comprised of numbers and mythical creatures. The most valuable card was the crow’s head, hence the name. The idea was to build a Gathering of creatures during a round. At the end of the round, the player with the strongest army won the pot. The house could also win but never lose money. He always had a card less than the players but seeing as he never entered money into the pot, the house always won in the end.

  The portly lady had been at the table a long time and seemed to love the game. “I do love spending my husband’s money,” she remarked when she had lost a hand to me.

  I could not help raise an eyebrow.

  “He’s upstairs now with Enibba. He thinks the world of her and I am sure he pays her well in tips and gifts. She has him wrapped round her little finger!”

  “So you spend his money?”

  “Of course! She thinks she has it good. I’ve lost over four golden heads tonight haven’t I Sinders?” This was to the House who nodded.

  “Are you married?” she asked.

  “Oh no,” I said. “I’m in no hurry to do so either.”

  “Hm. Are you a merchant?”

  “No. I serve the duke as a private contractor.”

  “A pirate?”

  “No, no. A privateer.”

  “A pirate,” she said as though that was that.

  “Only to the Empire.”

  At that, there was a call from the large steps at the end of the room, where a stunningly attractive and very young lady was helping an ancient man down the stairs. I realised that this was the lady’s husband as she got up and took his arm from the girl. The man must have been twice the age of the portly lady. I did not miss the curt smile the girl gave her and realised that perhaps the lady had once stolen this man herself from another older lady in just such a place as this.

  I was now left with the young gentleman and the officer, who I decided was my last and only bet. “Drinks!” I called and gestured to the table as a whole. The two other guests nodded their thanks, and drinks were brought round for all. The game continued and I began to talk about the recent weather. It was a tedious subject but always on the lips of sailors and officers alike. Hopefully the subject that might bore the younger gentleman into leaving, but it didn’t work. “Senior Officer?” I then asked, trying to decipher the officer’s rank.

  The officer looked up from his cards. He had dark eyes and a strong jaw but he was slim, and looked like he had recently recovered from an illness. The man was perhaps in his mid-thirties.

  “Senior Officer Darl Obringer of
the Battleship War Lion.” He introduced himself. “You are a privateer? I overheard.”

  “Captain Hostom Karn, at your service.”

  “An adventurous life I should imagine?”

  “I would say so. Dangerous, but it has its rewards,” I said, patting my purse.

  “Indeed,” Darl said looking round, and then indicated that a girl should join him. There were plenty of seats available now.

  This was my chance and I ordered more wine, the best wine, and we all drank. I even insisted that the women join in.

  The mood relaxed a great deal, and the talking continued. The girls giggled more, and the men got louder. I saw to it to lose more money. It got very late, but I kept the wine coming, and soon the young gentleman had had enough. He slurred his thanks. Then, with an arm around a woman ten years his senior, but as kindly and attractive as any wench there was, he left the table for a room. Darl and I continued the game, drinking and fondling the young things until I noticed that Senior Officer Obringer’s eyes began to close.

  “Take the poor man to a room,” I slurred. The girl he was with was quite drunk herself but managed to get him to his feet.

  I assisted them both and half carried the fool up the grand staircase, and then into a room as indicated by the woman. On placing the officer on the bed, I kicked hard as though trying to regain my balance and smashed the chamber pot that was tucked just under the bed. In the drunken bustle to get the man to bed nobody took much notice of the damage done. Then I turned to the woman and bowed. She gave me an unexpected drunken kiss before closing the door on me. I smiled. The room was perfect. No washroom and situated at the back of the building.

  Returning back downstairs, I picked a girl who had been drinking heavily of my wine. Snapping my fingers, the girl took me to a room, where she began to get undressed, but I told her to go to sleep. She looked upset.

  “You’re a pretty thing,” said I. “And I will find the strength soon enough but right now I want sleep.”

  She looked like she was going to complain but then gave in to the spirits and fell fast asleep on her side. I sighed for she truly was pretty in the dull light. What a waste, but I had no time, and instead stood listening at the door. When things quietened down I carefully opened it and stepped out into the now dark corridor. There was still light coming from downstairs, but I found a shadowy corner and waited.

  People came and went as the hours passed, but nobody saw me there. Sounds came from various rooms, but slowly things quietened as the house fell asleep. Finally the door of the room I had taken Darl Obringer to opened and an unsteady woman stepped out, who, with her chamber pot broken, made for the ladies room on the other side of the corridor.

  I moved quickly. There were minutes at best and I desperately wanted to avoid hurting any of the girls. This was war but they were innocent. Opening the door I went in without hesitation and saw the officer lying naked on the bed.

  The rebel stirred from his drunken sleep and I cursed under my breath as all I wanted was to slip in and riffle through the officer’s pockets. It was a long shot but there was always a chance that he had a code book with him. Now I was forced to do it the hard way. Darl saw me moving towards him with a bludgeon in my hand. Harl had provided the club, which I had kept inside my breaches. The officer was alarmed and about to shout out when I struck him hard on the head with a nasty crack.

  “For the Empire,” I whispered through gritted teeth as the club knocked the naked man out cold, and probably dead by the sound of the blow.

  Without pause, I stepped to the window and opened it. Leaning out and looking down into the back alley, I saw Harl and Jodlin appear from the shadows. I took the officer under the arms and manhandled him to the window, then using all my strength, heaved him over the edge to fall to the men below. Where was the girl? She would be back at any moment. Then I gathered up the clothing on the floor and threw them out as well. I took one last glance around the room for anything else that might belong to the officer. Finding nothing, I closed the shutters and window again, put a golden head on the side table and left. Just then the whore returned from the lady’s room. She saw me in the hall and smiled a drunken but seductive smile. I bowed drunkenly again and bade her a good night.

  Casually making my way down the stairs, I went to the reception room where a night guard consulted a book. He then took payment and returned my clothing. With a racing heart I left the house, playing the drunk as I negotiated the steps. On reaching the corner of the building, I looked round, and then waved to the darkness of the alley. Harl and Jodlin appeared carrying a large barrel.

  “Let’s go,” I whispered.

  They followed me back to the main road, and then down to the harbour. There where guards wandering the walks and I was forced to continue my drunken act to distract them while the two seamen shuffled past with the conspicuous barrel. At one point I was threatened with a cell for being so drunk, but I quickly wriggled my way out of it by dropping some copper heads on the ground.

  “Clumsy me!” I slurred picking one up again and forgetting the rest. The guards certainly noticed the coins and let me wonder off in my drunken zigzag walk while they gathered them up.

  Eventually we made it back to the ship. The barrel was taken into the captain’s cabin where I opened it up to extract the clothing. The officer was dead from the blow or the fall, but he would have had to die anyway for the plan to work now. No time to waste on regrets. Instead I put the officer’s clothing on. Now I was a rebel officer with the final and most dangerous part of the plan ahead.