Daveth, Aldric, Morden, and the Wolf Sisters sat around a conference table in a room thoughtfully provided to the Seal before Aldric introduced himself to the other three groups.
“So... Those other groups of mercenaries...” Aldric began, tapping his pipe against his teeth. “How would you use them? Optimally, I mean?” He directed the question to Daveth, but he was hoping that Morden and the sisters would throw out answers as well. He had a hundred new recruits arranged into files with untested file leaders that had been told that a command officer would be supplied to them in time.
Daveth waved his hand; the question was simple, absurdly so. “The pirates are...” he searched for the right word. He knew there was a word to describe their incoherent behavior, he just couldn't figure out what it was. “...erratic. Inconsistent.” He tried, and then frowned. Not quite the words he was looking for.
“They’re no good in a stand-up fight, unless it’s a stand-up fight they absolutely know they will absolutely win. You take away that “absolute” and they’ll fraction apart and scatter like baby spiders. The answer is to use the pirates as pirates. Ambushes, sabotage, that sort of thing. They could probably dismantle an equal or greater-sized force if you gave them their headway, with minimal casualties this side of the coin toss.”
Aldric snorted.
“So how would you break them?” He asked, and Daveth furrowed his brow.
“Destroy their unity, or their source of unity.” He finally offered. Aldric blinked. He didn’t expect that. Aldric had fought pirates before when he was a part of the Anglish Navy, but Daveth hadn’t fought pirates at all.
“What do you mean? I thought you implied they had no sense of unity.” Aldric asked, and Daveth grimaced, digging in his head for the answer.
There was a porthole set in the side of the conference room, and a Shaper walked by with a massive coil of rope on their shoulder. A tiny idea sparked in Daveth’s mind.
“In an army, the army is your unity. A shield wall is only as good as the man next to you. A cavalry charge is only useful if you have width enough to spread out. Things like that. But a pirate...” His voice trailed off. “Their sense of unity would either be in their ship, or each other.” He struggled to finish.
“Really?” Aldric asked. Daveth shrugged. “Best answer I could come up with on the spot.”
Aldric stroked his beard. “Hold onto that idea, I’m giving it some thought. What do you think you meant by their sense of unity being in each other?”
Daveth gestured out at the ship. “Every crewmember has an assigned task. No matter what, they know that that task has to be completed; hourly, daily, weekly, whatever. The task has to be completed. Each task is dependent upon other people, each performing their tasks.” He placed his palms flat on the table. “Kill enough pirates, and they can’t sail a ship.”
Aldric nodded. “And the ship?”
“Destroy a pirates’ ship and they’ll seize another, so either destroy their ship with all hands aboard, or destroy every other possible ship around them.”
Aldric snorted back laughter. “So how do we win them over?”
Daveth raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that obvious? By being a better pirate than they are.”
Aldric frowned in thought, Morden eyed the others with an air of indifference, but inwardly he was desperately trying to soak up as much information as he could. He suspected he was going to be placed in command of the recruits, and so that meant he had to live up to Aldric and Daveth’s expectations. He’d have to drive himself harder.
Alysia and Lynnabel both wore identical faces, tinged with disgust at the thought of potentially working side by side with actual pirates.
Aldric leaned across the table. “You’re damned lucky I know you can’t use magic, because I didn’t, I’d think you were reading my mind.”
Daveth waved his hand to dispel the pipesmoke waving around him. “Not a magical bone in my body.” He replied. “But everything that I’m telling you is really just everything you’ve been pounding into me from day one: How do you attack a fortified, unified position? With dissolute tactics. Hamstring them. Take out commanders. Area denial. Things like that. Flip the scenario table around, then: how do you defeat a disparate, un-unified, scattered force? Well, you could squash them one at a time, or you could force them into a position where they have to unify, and then crush them in one deft move.”
Aldric nodded.
“You’ve given me the key to recruiting Tsubame. How about Derrik Alhambra?”
Daveth frowned. “I don’t ... I like the guy, he’s certainly likeable enough, but ... I don’t like him. I dunno. I can’t explain it better than that. His Templars are good at holding ground, defensive postures, delaying actions. Not so strong at attacking. You can’t help but wonder- there’s fifty of them on this ship right now. Is that all of them? Have they always been fifty? If not, where did the rest go?” Daveth paused. “I think they had a brush with their own Ankar-Set, and are scrambling to recover.”
“You didn’t really give me the keys to winning him over, Daveth.”
“Sure I did. Just be the honorable man you expect all of us to be. He’s the kind that’ll respect authority when he sees it, and will fall in where he’s told. And if they’ve really... taken a pounding... the kind we have, then it’s all the more important to let them know they’re not alone.”
Aldric nodded.
“And the mages? This... Ebon Hand?”
Morden spoke up, then. “Leave the mages to me, sir. Their leader- Corwin- is my brother.”
Adveth and Aldric immediately looked to Morden, both expecting Morden to remain quietly attentive during the discussion, as he often was.
“Well, shit. We’ve got an ‘in’ with the mages. Not bad, Morden. See if you can get them to sign on with us- or find out what it would take to get them to sign on with us.”
Morden nodded and got up from the table.
The two Wolf sisters eyed each other, and moved as if to leave.
“Not you two. Have a seat. Morden, go have a talk with your brother.” Aldric ordered, and Morden nodded, gave an indifferent salute, and left the conference room.
Daveth ostentatiously plopped both elbows on the table, clapped his hands together, and gave the sisters a syrupy smile. “So exactly how much would it take to hire the entire Order of the Wolf?”
*****
A fascinating exchange occurred, some sort of communication without words, a silent conversation crammed with hidden meanings, hints, impressions in the twitch of a finger, the arch of an eyebrow, the tilt of a head, the jut of the jaw, the moistening of lips, the widening or narrowing of the eyes, even the subtle flaring of nostrils.
Suddenly Daveth flicked a glance to Aldric to see if he was seeing what he was seeing and Aldric gave him the barest flicker of a nod. Was this something they had always done, some form of unspoken, unseen communication that relied on the subtleties of posture, expression, and body language?
Alysia, seeing the interplay between Daveth and Aldric immediately closed her eyes and ostentatiously turned her head, a sign Daveth and Aldric had learned as an obvious, stubborn refusal to participate in the conversation any further.
Lynnabel let out a sigh, and flashed her sister a remonstrative look. She would have to choose her words carefully. Daveth and Aldric looked for cracks and loopholes.
“It would not work.” She finally stated flatly. “There are a number of... layers of refusal.”
“First, it would require us to contact the Order of the Wolf, which is currently impossible.” Lynnabel began, already anticipating Aldric’s response.
“We’ve a mage for that. All you need to do is tell us where to drop off the missive. Standard scrying.”
“I cannot reveal the location of our home to outsiders.” She stated flatly. “One of us would have to return home and present the offer to our Matron, who would refuse.”
Aldric gave her a careful, calculating look. “There should be no way for this Matron of yours to know how deep our pockets run.”
Lynnabel glanced at Alysia, but Alysia still looked away, eyes closed. Such an unreasonable, hot-tempered sister.
“I believe I said that there are layers of refusal, Lord Captain. There is no layer of acceptance.” Lynnabel stated firmly, and then took a breath.
“First, our home must be kept secret and must be kept safe. Therefore it cannot be approached by anyone who is not a sister. Contrary-wise, it is unthinkable for the ‘entire Order of the Wolf’ to abandon our demesne to fight in a war we have no stake in.” She paused and re-examined what she said for any possible loopholes, and, finding none, moved on to the next refusal.
“Secondly, a not-insignificant portion of our forces are already out across the world, serving in assignments much like Alysia and I are doing here. It would take an expenditure of time and resources you don’t have to recall those forces.”
Daveth eyed Aldric as the man digested this second refusal. There were plenty of ways around the first refusal; but the second presented reasonable logistics.
“Finally, this: The Order moves for no one but the Matron. You cannot convince her that a war beyond the boundaries of her territory between forces she has no investment in is in any way worth her while. Not through money, intimidation, bribery, or persuasion.”
“...Ugh. You had me at the second refusal, but that, combined with the third... really does make it seem impossible.”
“I am sorry, Lord Captain. Assisting the Shapers is a noble cause; many sisters would agree.”
Daveth tapped his thumbs together as he peered at the ceiling of the conference room. For some reason that baffled him, every ceiling in the entire ship was painted to look like the clear-blue sky on a sunny day. Occasionally a streak of cloud would arc across the blue.
“Can we hire additional sisters?” Daveth asked thoughtfully as he examined the sky of the conference room ceiling. Was that spot of white meant to be a cloud, or was it perhaps a bird?
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Do you know where they can be found?” Lynnabel challenged, but Daveth waved his arm as he focused on the spot of white. Upon reflection, it could be a bird, like a high-flying albatross.
“No, I mean, could we send you to the Order of the Wolf with a request like “please lend me the use of one hundred of your gold sisters, a hundred of your silver sisters, here is money, thanks, we’ll pick them up at this point”, like that.”
“Any contract you make would be between you and the Sister, not you and the Order.” Lynnabel deflected smoothly.
“For an order of mercenaries, there certainly are a lot of rules.” Daveth mused. Alysia’s face went pink with anger, but she’d made her decision to stay out of the conversation.
“Quite a few rules indeed, Lord Commander.” Lynnabel replied.
“You’d think you’d be more invested in spreading your Order’s reputation.” Daveth muttered, pushing himself up from the table. “If the Shapers are as desperate for help as Aldric thinks, we need to snatch up as much as we can. I have no idea how many of your sisters are out there in the world, but it seems to me that we could use every one of them.”
Lynnabel looked to Aldric. “You really think this way?”
Aldric nodded. “I do, for a number of reasons. First, the Shapers never ask for help. Second, they’ve never allowed outsiders anywhere near their home. Finally, they’ve always dealt with the other races from a position of authority. They’re asking for help, which would be the equivalent to begging for any one of us.” He brought his hands together. “Put it all together, and what do my instincts tell me? Something big is going down. That makes me excited to see it, but it also makes me nervous as all hell. What could upset the Shapers so much that they break their own rules and go looking for outside help? I have no fucking clue. So what’s the first step to stacking the deck in our favor? More bodies. Increase our fighting strength. The Shapers are willing to foot the bill, and I’m willing to throw in as well if it means we get more forces to throw at ... whatever it is that they’ve got cooking in their homeland.”
“I am willing to go and ask the Matron, if you give me leave to do so.” Lynnabel finally decided, and Alysia immediately stood up from the table.
“You overstep yourself, sister.” She warned.
Lynnabel shook her head. “I do not. I will ask the question. I will posit the merits and demerits, and whatever decision the Matron makes, I will return.”
Aldric rubbed his chin. “We’ll need maps; an arranged drop off and pickup point...” He muttered and headed out of the room, Lynnabel hastening to catch up with him.
Daveth eyed Alysia. “So... why do you think they paint their ceilings blue?” He asked, and Alysia frowned at him.
“What a stupid question.” She spat, and left the conference room. Daveth got up and stretched, smiling that his hands didn’t reach the ceiling for once.
“I dunno, it seems like a pretty reasonable question to me.” He replied to no one, and went looking for Syna to ask her.
*****
After a conference with the Shaper captain, the decision was made to stop off north of Metzcal, in the turbulent lands that were once known as Philippa.
Before the War of Liberation, it had been a unified city-state of the Anglish Empire, containing a complex webwork of roads and streets and highways, massive buildings, and every creature comfort that civilization had to offer. Even as the Empire lauded Darnell as the crown jewel of civilization, Philippa outstripped it in size, scope, and function.
After the war, it dissolved into a handful of constantly-warring nations that rose, fell, reformed under new banners, resurrected old ones, and conquered each other and in turn were conquered by others. A man could make his fortune there, and lose it just as quickly.
Lynnabel would disembark from there and make her way to wherever the homeland of the Order was, lay her case before the Matron, and regardless of the outcome, return.
Aldric was the hopeful one; Daveth the cynic.
*****
“So why did you paint the ceilings?” Daveth asked Syna as they sat together on the upper deck. She gave him a bemused smile in return.
“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked. Daveth immediately shook his head. “I could tell you a story, if you like.” She offered.
Daveth gave her a complicated look. “It takes a story to explain why the ceilings are painted?”
“Long, long ago-” She began, and Daveth palmed his face theatrically. “Are you sure you want to hear this?” Syna asked curiously.
Daveth thumbed some tobacco into his pipe and struck a match, cupping his hand against the wind. Shaking out the lucifer, he gestured at the glossy black woman that reclined near him.
“It’s said that long long ago, we lived our entire lives underground.” Syna offered. “We had massive cities that would stretch for miles underground.”
“You don’t?” He asked. She shook her head. “We don’t.”
“Seems reasonable so far.” Daveth offered, and then added, “but it doesn’t explain why your ceilings are-”
“Apparently, we did something to anger the land, and all of our underground cities collapsed. All that’s left of the Shapers are the ones that happened to be aboveground when it happened.”
Daveth eyed her, but said nothing.
“It’s said that our ... fear of being out from under the sky comes from those days.”
Daveth scratched his beard. “So you paint the ceilings to look like the sky.” She nodded. “We don’t much like being underground.”
“You’re on a boat, though.” Daveth pointed out. “On the ocean. Not underground.” She shrugged as if to say that it didn’t matter.
“You’ll see when we return to Shaper lands; how important it is for us to be under the sky as much as possible.”
“As much as possible, hmm?” Daveth repeated, eyeing her ostentatiously.
She gave him a polite laugh. “We have decided that you humans are probably creatures that are capable of independent thought and reason, but there is no Shaper that would stoop to coupling with your kind.”
That gave Daveth pause. There were many that considered elves or beastmen as something less than human, but this was the first time that the tables had been turned. He was somehow inexplicably inadequate by virtue of his birth. Further, the Shapers decided? Did that mean that at some point humans and elves and the like weren’t considered to be ... people?
He got up and stumbled away, numb with shock. This was the first time he’d been assailed with a concept that was so foreign, so alien to him that he had no idea at all how to respond, react. His mind kept going back to what she’d said, and the casual, indifferent way she’d said it.
He ran right into Aldric, who immediately complained, “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find someone- anyone- on this ship? It’s fuckin’ huge.” He glanced at Daveth’s face.
“Oh boy. Looks like you ran into the famous-” He paused. “No matter. Come on Daveth, we’ve got a meeting with the other mercs and I need you with me as my second.”
*****
After the meeting with the pirates, templars, and mages, Aldric took Daveth aside.
“So what’s got you so shell-shocked?” Aldric asked, and Daveth told him. Aldric raised an eyebrow.
“Frankly I’m not surprised. Nations rise and fall, but the Shapers have always been the same. There’s a rumor that they’ve existed since before the Long Night, but... I dunno.” He combed his beard with his fingertips.
“You don’t know? I thought you had a finger in every pie.” Daveth accused.
Aldric shrugged. “Everything I know about the Shapers is rumor and what I’ve been taught by historians. There’s been all sorts of human and elf and beastman nations across the centuries- The Anglish Empire was once strong and proud, now it falls apart by inches. But the rumor is that there’s only been one Shaper nation. Just the one. And it’s endured far longer than human or elven nations.”
“Okay, thanks for the history lesson that means nothing to me-” Daveth began sarcastically, but Aldric held up his hand. “I’m not finished. I’ve heard- again, rumor, mind you- that Shapers live extraordinarily long lives. Several centuries. Now, I don’t know if that’s true, but it fits in with all the other rumors that I’ve heard about them. And yeah, It doesn’t come as much of a shock to me that they think so little of us. They’ve got the perspective of centuries and we’re damned lucky if we hit seventy. They’ve got a completely different mindset from us.” He folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “You know what all that means?”
“I sure hope you’ll tell me.” Daveth offered with a touch of sarcasm.
“It means jack shit as far as I’m concerned. Our business is soldiering, not philosophy. Who cares if you can’t get any Shaper poon? Don’t think i haven’t seen the way Alysia looks at you.”
“She looks at me like she wants to stick a sword in me.” Daveth muttered, and Aldric laughed nastily.
“While we’re moored here waiting for Lynnabel, you need anything before we set sail? Last chance.”
Daveth rolled his eyes. “I’m tired of pinching from your stash. Get me some tobacco. The good stuff.”
Aldric nodded. “Good idea; I’m tired of you pinching from my stash, too.”
He led Daveth out to the foredeck, which showed a stunning panoramic view of Philippa.
“You know what I hate about this place?” Aldric asked.
“Tell me.” Daveth encouraged.
“Every-fucking-thing. This place is a shit heap. Maybe in a few decades Darnell will look like this, too.”
“I’ve never been to Darnell.” Daveth offered. Aldric nodded. “Good. Keep it that way, if you can. The air reeks of nobility and disappointment. The Empire is falling apart. Unless the good Queen Lybeth gets off her ass and re-conquers everything the Anglish once had, everything, everywhere will look like this: a land of opportunistic scum.”
“It’s not too bad.” Daveth offered. “You came out of there with your hide intact.”
Aldric shook his head. “You think I’m not in it for the percentages? I am, you know. I happen to like coin very much. They say you can’t buy happiness, but you can’t buy anything with happiness, either.”
Daveth unfolded his arms and glanced at Aldric, but the man waved his hand dismissively.
“I still think we can do some good. I still want to do some good. That hasn’t changed. If it does, I want you to stick a sword in me. Not too deeply, mind you; just enough to remind me why we’re doing this.”
“No more noble bullshit.” Daveth muttered.
“Fuck you, Nauders was worth it.” Aldric replied.
“So you say.” Daveth replied.
Aldric folded his arms as they looked out across a land that had been rocked by too much infighting.
“So speaking of Nauders... did you think you’d actually get away with it?” Aldric asked in a low voice.
Daveth gave Aldric a puzzled look. “Get away with what? The crank gun? I did. And we did.”
Aldric glanced up at Daveth. “So you’re playing innocent? Or is this simple ignorance? I’m not actually pissed off at you anymore, you can tell me.”
Daveth turned to face Aldric, resting his hand on the thick railing. “You’re going to have to be a bit less confusing, Aldric. If this is one of those nobility things where you say things without saying them, I gotta remind you I got no idea what the fuck you’re talking about when you do shit like that.”
Aldric sighed, and leaned back against the railing, a railing that was built to accommodate someone at least two feet taller than he was.
“I’ve lost my contact in Nauders. It seems they’re pissed off.” Aldric moved his head from side to side as he tried to figure out a way to say what he needed to say without losing his temper.
“There’s a scandal brewing with the Duchess. Seems like you left her with more than just a good impression.” Aldric pushed himself away from the railing. “Actually, I think I’m still pissed at you. Think I’ll head ashore for a while, work out some of my stress on the locals before I decide to shoot my second-in-command.”
*****
For the most part, Audra enjoyed sneaking into Daveth’s quarters. It was a challenge for her. As a soldier, as a mercenary, he slept with a knife or a sword- or both- close at hand, and he often slept lightly, quick to react to the slightest noise. There were other times when he slept deeply, and those were risky times too, because it seemed his sleep was plagued with nightmares. She’d nearly died as a result of him attacking her in a half-asleep state, once.
That didn’t change the fact that it was a challenge, a test of her skills.
It didn’t hurt that he was attractive to her, either. She hadn’t yet found a way to lure him in, but for now at least, it was simply fun to slip into his quarters while he slept.
Tonight... was likely a bad night. Daveth’s massive hands clenched and unclenched, sweat beaded his brow, his face was downturned in a furious scowl.
“Don’t do that!” Daveth roared furiously, leaping from his bed, rising to his feet. “Don’t you dare apologize for them!” He shouted, pointing at Audra.
Audra immediately took two steps backwards and raised her hands in the universal sign of surrender.
“You got it boss, I won’t.” She immediately blurted, and Daveth blinked in confusion as he came all the way awake.
“Audra?” He muttered, and pressed the heel of his hand against the side of his head. “Where... What is this place? Where am I?” He gave her an intense, scrutinizing glare. “How are you still alive?” He asked hoarsely, disbelievingly, before slipping to one knee, and falling forward to land flat on his face.
Audra eyed him curiously, and cautiously approached him, wary that he might suddenly spring awake and kill her.
“Commander?” She probed cautiously, reluctant to approach him. He lay prone on the floor, and it didn’t seem like he was breathing. “Fuck this, I’m getting help.” She blurted and rushed out of his cabin, yelling for help.