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Tales of the Wailing Sea: Uncharted Waters
"Those are the stakes we face."

"Those are the stakes we face."

  Every day on board the Primula came with new lessons with little respite. If not cleaning dishes or preparing food for Mister Pot, Xerio was on deck scrubbing the floorboards or tending to chamber pots. Mister Pot was a grumbling old man, but Xerio could tell he put pride into his cooking even though it was never really any good. Given the quality of the food, even the best chef in Kano would have a difficult time producing anything extraordinary. He had hoped Pot would lighten up on him as time passed, but nothing changed in the first week. On deck had not been easy as well. He found himself at the bottom of the pecking order and doing every menial task they could force unto him. Xerio took it all on the chin. These were hard men and he would never gain their respect if he whined or complained so, he kept focused. No task was too great or too small. He also had no weight to throw around considering he was the youngest onboard.

  Ten days had passed since they had set sail down the river and the captain had told the crew by the next morning, they would arrive in Cromerth on the west coast. Xerio sat on a crate on the deck as night was reaching its darkest. It was cold, but it did not bother him as he leaned his back against the mast in his tunic. Any other man would be bundled from head to toe in furs to conserve any amount of heat. These times almost made the hard work he endured worth it. The peace, the gentle sound of water, the moon looking down on him, and the multitude of stars he could watch.

  The door to the captain’s quarters creaked open and the glow of a lantern lit. Xerio straightened up. He was wondering what the captain was doing being up and about so late at night. Captain Reese thumped over to where Xerio was sitting, wiping his tired eyes. “Not sleeping on watch, are we?” the captain questioned.

  “Of course not, captain.” Xerio answered, moving to stand, but the captain waved for him to stay seated.

  The captain struck a match and lit the tobacco in his pipe. “Fine night, clear and calm. Cold as Cova’s balls though. You frokeln are lucky bastards.” he claimed, taking his first puff and exhaling the smoke.

  Xerio cringed at the blasphemy against the winter god. “If you do not mind a question, captain, what are you doing up so late? You said we will make port tomorrow.”

  “Indeed, I did.” He leaned against the mast. “I can never sleep on the last night of a voyage. This is the most dangerous of times.”

  “Why?” Xerio asked.

  The captain gestured toward the eastern bank. “Bandits.” he scowled. “The deplorable bastards with nothing to lose and all to gain always lurk around cities. Your guard will be at its most carless the longer you are on board a ship and they know it. They will get into rowboats and quietly slip into the river using our own lanterns as beacons. Climbing aboard they will kill as quietly as they can.” He shifted and shuddered in the cold air. “On the other hand, pirates are vile creatures in their own right and I have been held up by them once before.”

  Xerio turned his body to Reese, he could not believe the captain had been taken hostage by pirates. He had only heard of things happening in tales and stories. The tale intrigued him. “You were captured by pirates?”

  “Yes.” The captain growled. “We were hauling supplies west from Glover in Mentis to Belmont in Falornun.” Xerio had no idea where those places were, only that Mentis was the realm south of Nordhagen. “They snuck up on us waving an Orvick Company flag. As they grew closer, the air grew heavy as something felt off. Our perception of the world seemed uncanny. Suddenly, they dropped the flag and raised a new one. A flag of black with the symbol of a kraken holding two bleeding hearts. The brig had six mounted ballistae and a catapult at the bow. We scrambled to make an escape, but it was too late.” He scoffed and deeply inhaled his pipe. “Not that it would have mattered. Our little dingy would have never outrun their brig. They swept over us like a swarm of locusts screaming and howling like the vilest of demons summoned from far off realms of the patron gods. We surrendered with not a shred of resistance.”

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  This puzzled Xerio. Why would they surrender so easily? They could have fought back and repelled the pirates. “Why did you surrender?”

  Reese chuckled as if it were a foolish question. “Simple, we wanted to live and I was not the captain so to Rame with the cargo we were hauling.” He tapped Xerio on the forehead. “Pay attention, Xerio, here is the difference between pirates and bandits. Those pirates bound us in ropes and brought us on top deck. They forced us to keep our heads down, so I saw nothing, but their captain’s black boots. I could only pray to Marva that they would be merciful to us. They snatched up what loot and plunder they deemed valuable to them and were gone as quickly sailing to the west where their haven lay. They left us too limp to the nearest safe port with a far lighter cargo hold, but alive.”

  Xerio knew the retelling event had an effect on the captain as his voice grew softer and his eyes blankly starred into the middle distance. He adjusted as if snapping back from whatever world his mind had wandered to. “Later found out that it was the winter elf pirate captain, Zhoron don Mubo, a pirate lord who robbed us blind.” The captain sighed.

  “Now bandits. I had a run in with them soon after I became the captain of this vessel some seven years ago.” he claimed, looking at the ship with a smile as if he was recalling a fond memory. His face shifted to a grim frown. “A lesson we riverboat captains learn from our predecessors is never give in to bandits. They will slaughter everyone with horrible methods. Flaying, ripping out tongues, crucifixion, pulling out fingernails. If your young mind could imagine it then they have been doing it since man realized they could steal from another. They give themselves over to the evil that is manmade horror. We were near here somewhere hauling raw iron ore as normal. It was night so I could not tell you the exact spot.”

  “I do not understand.” Xerio interrupted, leaning at the edge of his crate. He pondered on the reasoning and the differences between groups of thieves who seemed identical in every way. “Why would they do such things, but not pirates?”

  “I will get to it!” Captain Reese continued his story. “We were set upon the last night of our trip. I awoke to the alarm bell being rung. I threw on my trousers, grabbed my sword, and was on deck as the first bandit grabbed the railing. A vicious brawl broke out as we fought to defend the Primula. It was a small band, but we had cut down ten of theirs to a loss of five of our own. I killed at least three myself that night. I still remember everything about the encounter and I wish I could forget the panic of battle. I thoroughly pissed my trousers. The few remaining bandits took to their boats and fled back across the river.” Reese hung his head and removed the pipe from his mouth. “I lost good mates that night. Good mates. I can never sleep a wink on the last night of a voyage anymore.” He spoke with such sorrow in his voice, Xerio could not help, but empathize. It seemed he was not the only person to have lost people to raiders. The bandits which attacked Spellsburg operated in much the same way, slaughtering a path through the village. Everyone was fair game to be killed, no mercy shown. It was such a bold attack, Felstrom must have been devising a counter attack, but he had no way to know for certain. He hated them with all his being and promised one day he would find a way to pay those raiders back everything they were owed.

  Reese rubbed the bridge of his nose and swiped at the air. “Here is the lesson. Pirates, the sorry lot can disappear into a cloud of fog and you would never see them again. By the time you return to port and report what happened they could be anywhere in the Wailing Sea or back in Hera with bellies full of meat and rum and a woman to bed. You cooperate with them and they might not throw you into the sea. Better to take your chances and surrender. Bandits. Bandits though do not have such advantages to show mercy. They do not even know the meaning. They can be hunted across the land if they cause too many problems to trade or travelers. The fewer survivors the more likely they are to make their escape back into the shadows of the wilds. Fight them as if the God of Death, Rame, himself has come for your soul.”

  Xerio looked towards the east bank and then back to the west. Suddenly they seemed far more menacing and sinister. The darkness could hide anything from him, only to be revealed with a blade in the guts. He shivered at the thought.

  Reese pushed off the mast and yawned. Dusting the ash from his pipe, he spoke to Xerio. “Keep a good eye out, lad. We are counting on you to ring the bell if you see anything out of the ordinary. A false alarm will make the crew angry; no alarm will condemn everyone on board to a horrible death. Those are the stakes we face out here on the river.”

  “Yes, captain.” Xerio replied. It felt like a great weight had been put on him, but it was one shared with the crew as they also had to take watches. They all relied on one another to stay safe. However, he would not call them family by any stretch. This was a job and most of his family had been swiped up by Rame and Cova. He hardened himself as he knew tomorrow, he would be back in the galley cleaning, working, and cooking.

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