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French Sicily
3: Warning Shot

3: Warning Shot

Under annoyed curses, Grunt loaded crates of haggled goods onto the Golden Lily. Valentina was surprised that even a fucked-up island like Virgin's End produced goods that could be traded for. After the small talk with Cointoss, she had retired for a while to the cabin. Curiosity had prevailed. When Whitebeard and Merina balanced up the gangplank, she was already leaning on the reeling and watched the King being carried uphill on his palanquin. It still disgusted her. A small glance down revealed a lonely, bored woman next to the rope, waiting for the signal to untie it.

The Captain motioned for the Uppersider to follow him down into the kitchen. Both him and the good fortune girl looked like someone had died. They were in a really foul mood and radiated anger and annoyance. Quietly she followed them down, becoming more steady on the ship by the hour. Everyone gathered in the kitchen. Table pushed into a corner, the crew stood, leaned or sat in a circle.

"Bad news travels like the wind", the man opened and sighed, "The Empress and the Duchy finally went at it". Cointoss flipped a coin and caught it on her flat hand. Under her breath she muttered a "Great", but stayed silent otherwise. Whaler pushed himself from the working space and stood straight. "Change routes?", he asked, worry on his face. "Naturally, and I don't like it one bit. King Rochard says the Aegis pushed the Guard back across the Foggy Vortex. They are fighting south-east now. We need to take the northern route", the bearded man explained. Grunt ran a hand down his face, "Great, let's hope we don't get eaten by an Agent".

The engineer grunted in agreement, but the cook glared at them, "No jinxing the old gods, ye hear?". Grunt rolled his eyes and avoided the glare. "Let's be on our way before the information turns older", Whitebeard commanded and everybody scrambled. Merina hesitated, throwing a worried glance at Valentina, but sneaked out before she could question the girl. She would've loved to know what was on the girl's mind. Something was up. And she couldn't fathom what it could be.

Being honest with herself, that speech had made no sense. So far her knowledge of the world been little, ignorance being bliss. Her grief for what she had lost and the pain of having bruises all over her back taking all of the attention from the problems she should have been facing. This needed to change. Sooner than later.

***

Accompanied by the quiet hum and clicking of the engine, Valentina sought Whitebeard. The old captain had provided her answers before and now she needed more. Many many more. With a quick explanation, Merina had sent her up. Whaler and the Captain were on the bridge, discussing who knows what. A clang against the bulkhead announced her arrival to the personnel inside. When she pushed it open, the smell of pipe weed pushed against her sense. It was sweet and fruity.

Reminded of TV shows, the bridge was a slightly older cliche of a cruise ship. In the centre stood a large table with a map unfolded and pinned with four heavy chunks of metal. In a corner stood a shelf holding more maps, rolled up neatly. The steering wheel was as large as that of a sailing ship, and just as wooden. Most of the boat lacked portholes, but the bridge had a large window front all around the room, allowing a 360 degree view around the ship from this elevation. Just a few levers were set between the gauges. The most surprising was an old-school tube that probably allowed them to yell something down to engineering. Radio hadn't been invented it seems. That made her sad, but it did make sense, since everyone was relying on ships to bring information.

"Yes?", Whitebeard turned to her and sucked air through his pipe which exited through his nose a short moment later. Both him and Whaler stared at the map before them. "Could I talk to you? Considering that I'm stuck here, but I know very little about anything, I guess I need some questions answered?", she inquired carefully. The man waved her over in response and pointed at the map, "This is most of the mapped East of the Underside". Smoke lingered right above the map and swirled when he gestured around it in a circle.

The Uppersider focused on the written words and noticed Virgin Island, Strife Island and AB-21 couldn't be found further West. The map ended with Strife Island. Further east of their current position which was marked by a red cylinder on the map, she found the Foggy Vortex. It was huge. Then her eyes trailed dotted lines above and below and actually all around it. She could also see why, since there was a long massif on the eastern side that reached all the way to the end of the map. One small gap was marked on the massif called Heaven's Peak was Germaine's Recess. This massif seemed to be a natural divide of two larger spheres of influence. North of it ruled the French Sicily, a large crown printed on an island called Sainte Monique. South of it ruled the House of the Sheathed Dagger, probably what Whitebeard had referred to as Duchy. A coronet was drawn onto another island. It read Kinship. The Duchy area was however much larger and included many many more islands. If that made a difference in the war, she couldn't tell.

Patiently the Captain waited until she stood up straight again. His final gesture put the pipe end onto Mariner's Cove, a port located slightly north of Foggy Vortex. Her eyes trailed the dotted routes on the map for accessing this port. Three paths could be identified, one short, two very long ones. She could see why the crew was worried now. Probably the supplies didn't hold up circling around the war zone.

"Us merchants, we don't dabble with politics. We hear things however, since we get around. The Empress, or so they say, has had it with the Duke and his council of Island dwellers since a long time. Rumour has it, that something had the Empress scared now. Now they're at war, the Sicilian Aegis pushing against the Bronze Guard. We're forced to sail around this powder keg, or run danger of being attacked", the man rumbled and puffed more smoke from his nose.

Valentina remembered the cold war in Europe. It was history from where she and her friends had stood, something she had never enjoyed studying. Yet good grades would lead to a scholarship. One that she nailed. To her parent's glee one might add. Somehow all this useless knowledge flooded back into her mind and she pondered what could have an Empress scared enough to end the cold war state and enter an armed conflict. She must know that war always strained the economy, killed people, left poverty left and right. The woman hummed in thought and glanced back down at the map. "Who do you think will win?", she let her gaze wander between Whaler and Whitebeard. This time the navigator with the hooked nose spoke up, his words brief as usual, "Duke got more punch and more people. Empress got the strategic advantage. My money's on her!". Whitebeard grumbled agreement, but didn't seem as convinced as his navigator and cook.

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"So what's gonna happen to me?", she finally wondered, putting the elephant into the room. Whaler raised an eyebrow and shrugged. The Captain thought about it for a moment and puffed more smoke. "Can't hire ya, but I can set ya up with the Company or someone in need of a… what's ya profession again?". "Uh, I'm a marketing manager. Got a clue what that is?", she had to smile when she confronted the two mariners with the modern Upperside world. The navigator huffed and shook his head and the bearded man pondered, "Ya market goods to someone? Like Merina and me?". "Something like that. I develop strategies for convincing customers to buy things". "And that pays money? That can't pay much", disbelief raised the Captain's eyebrows. Valentina didn't think the man was dumb. He probably was quite smart. His world, his experience was minted by trading between islands, lacking the aftermath of the industrial revolution and modern ways of production, distribution and wealth. She grinned, "You have no idea".

The two men left it at that, shaking their heads and having trouble wrapping their mind around a profession that dealt with such things. "Guess might be able to find a job on a ship, negotiating on a captain's behalf. Ye seem to be more knowledgeable than I presumed. We'll see", he grunted and was about to usher her out. Before she could leave, however, she had one more question remaining, "Say, how do you navigate this darkness? Can't see any landmarks at all!". The deep laughter of both men when they shared glances reverberated through the hull. "That, my dear, is a trade secret. Captain yer own ship and you'll find out!", Whitebeard grinned and let his pipe weed glint deep red. The Uppersider huffed annoyance and stomped back down the metal stairs to her cabin.

***

Three slow days passed, bruises turned purple and then dark green. The aching had faded, but something else had started to ache her loins. It was that time of the month. Unfortunately this world lacked modern amenities, and so she had made her way to engineering, finding Cointoss lying head-first in an open panel inside the engine. The clicking noise was ear-numbing. Fortunately it didn't even require an explanation and the engineer handed her a spare rubber thing that resembled a menstrual cup. And that was that. Before she could leave to her cabin, a coin spun in the air, singing as it rotated. The woman caught it and said, "Don't trust Whitebeard to set you up. Make your own plans!". "Why would you say that?", Valentina asked, a second question unspoken whether everyone knew about her conversation on the bridge. The engineer shrugged and walked back to her engine problems. The Uppersider attended her monthly bleeding.

Throughout those three days the Golden Lily managed to circle the Foggy Vortex from the south-west to the north-west and then headed eastward. The crew was uneasy. Something was in the air, but she had too little knowledge of this world. Uneasiness was contagious and she locked herself into her cabin out of frustration. No one would talk to her, not even Whaler, who always tossed a grunt and a sentence of wisdom her way.

Finally something happened. A loud clank, then another. The boat shook with the impact. It shook the Uppersider from her shallow sleep. Until the bearings were found, another impact shook the boat, this time without the clank but with a loud boom. She rushed out of her cabin and up the stairs, into the bridge. Merina, Whaler and Whitebeard were gathered there. Cointoss voice echoed from the metal tube, "Got it?". Whaler grunted a "Yeah".

She followed the group's gaze towards the bow of the Golden Lily. Grunt manned a contraption that she now realised as a harpoon with multiple spotlights attached. Two ropes were pulled back into winches. The ship leaned port side until a large wing got pulled over the edge. Grunt climbed down. With the action over, the group on the bridge dispersed, but Valentina didn't notice. Her eyes tried to determine what she was looking at. A large bird? A dragon? The skin was leathery and dark grey. Her face pressed again the window glass to get a better view. Whitebeard walked up to Grunt and started to angle the body in alignment to the winches. Five minutes later a huge corpse of a bat was lying on deck, two ridiculously large metal arrows protruding from its body. Black blood mixed with ocean water, tinted in the red glow of lanterns and the spotlights, spread on deck. No one cared. A knife flashed across the animal's throat. If it had played dead, now it really was dead. With a wing span of at least four meters, this thing was huge, and heavy. Whaler smiled happily. The reason she'd only discover later at dinner.

Only after hiding under the blankets of her cot, the horror caught up to her. Her wide open eyes glared into the distance. The crew had professionally dispatched of an insanely large predator in just the time it took her to climb the stairs to the bridge. Was this one of these Agents that Grunt had mentioned? No one but her seemed to be disturbed by the bat, maybe it was just normal business. Maybe.

During dinner she stayed quiet, chewing on the memory, the danger of this dark world and also on fried bat meat. It was tasty, slightly reminding her of the distinct taste of game, the rare opportunities she'd had in her life to try it. Grunt recounted his successful shot a third time and everyone cheered him on. Praising his gunnery, Whaler's cooking and the group effort. Valentina felt out of place. After her plate was empty, she quietly left the crew to enjoy their win. The Captain followed her, making his way to the bridge. Inside her cabin, just about to close the bulkhead, he muttered, "Small wins are important. The darkness drives ya mad, y'know. Remember that, little lady". A nod provoked a smile on his lips and the bulkhead slammed shut. The Uppersider fell onto the cot. It didn't make her wince any longer, the wounds were healing well. Her eyes fell shut, monsters chased theatrically by a laughing crew accompanied her to a shallow sleep.

***

A boom reverberated through the hull. It vibrated in response. Valentina woke up, scared. This wasn't like yesterday. The vibration had been delayed. Outside her cabin, Whaler and Cointoss ran, shouting something. The engine went quiet. Did the Golden Lily stop? She wished for a bulkhead right now. With a practised motion she slipped into her one-piece and threw the jacket over her shoulders. A cramp made her stop and catch her breath. "Fucking period", she muttered under her breath and gritted her teeth.

The bridge was empty except for the navigator who pointed at spotlights further ahead. "Patrol frigate, probably the Aegis", he groaned, scowling. "What could they want?", the Uppersider asked curiously, unable to follow the crewman's worried thoughts. "After that warning shot? Hopefully routine check, if we be lucky", came his mumbled response, leaving the worse options unspoken. Ah shit, war wasn't such a good thing after all. Even to a merchant vessel. The frigate must've already seen that the Golden Lily wasn't military.

After a while, she noticed Whitebeard out on deck together with Grunt. The frigate had turned and was in process of directing their cargo ship closer through light signals that reminded her of Morse. They wanted to dock or board. Two sets of bright spotlights were directed at them. Both attached to large guns, but she couldn't see what type of armaments they had. Considering the metalwork, the old imprecise guns from the age of sail were probably ineffective on most hulls. Their size was scary. Whaler's assessment of the situation was close to her own, judging from the frown on his face.

Moments later a gangplank hit the Lily and five men holding guns hurried over. Whitebeard and Grunt just stood there, unmoving. Three of the armed men hurried towards the main bulkhead. Meanwhile a man, hands folded behind his back, all but strolled across onto deck. An officer it seemed. Valentina rubbed her temples. This wasn't going as planned and while she was a civilian, something told her that this would go to shit.