At the same time as the alarm in Aliston, the ships of the Shipping Investment Guild were nearly arrived. They still didn’t move very quickly, but they had expert seamen and a number of stigmata to portend and investigate the waves, to ward off the monsters or attract edible fish. Their gold trimmed vessels moved with the certainty of a cattle migration, or as a northerner might put it, with the numb determination of a warring troll tribe.
At any moment, they expected to see the sparkle of Aliston’s lighthouse shining on the horizon, within the slim band of black that separated the ocean from the sky with the shallow tops of island peaks. The night was clear and visibility good, but they had to cross open ocean to finally reach the Misty Isles. While the mountains that formed the volcanic archipelago did dot the sea all the way back to Rackvidd, the largest gap of sea was at the end, and rollers the size of hills could slide across unseen and unheard. It’s a land dweller’s folly to think of the ocean as flat if there’s even a little breeze and the night loved to hide such danger.
Thus, they had not seen the lighthouse and did not know whether it was because they were too far north or because water obstructed them. There was something else they could see however. The twinkling lanterns of a ship at sea.
“Black sails sir,” the first mate said to Captain Thorby as he stood at the prow of the Blue Breeze II. It was a good night, the moon could hardly have been brighter. All around him, white capped waves rolled like a web of silver against black. The wind would be a problem for the merchant vessels, those bloated whales wanted nothing more than a puff to push them along. A fighting ship nearly wanted a storm. In fact, he had fought in storms and done splendidly as far as the ship was concerned.
It was the crew that got washed overboard by a storm.
Strong wind was perfect for his needs, and also perfect for an Aillesterran pirate ship. A heavy anticipation lingered between the crew as everyone wondered whether Thornby would give the command to engage. They surely could run it down or chase it off, but not without leaving their mercantile friends undefended. The convoy had no choice but to continue sailing south, slowly approaching it at the speed of the largest vessels and wonder if the pirates would turn to attack, or turn to flee.
In fact, it was so early in the night that Aisha was still awake and stood against the railing to watch it herself. She frowned at the little speck of darkness that cut shadows against the sea foam. “I don’t suppose you could just swim over there and kill them all yourself?”
“I’m a bit too old for such rashness,” Thornby said, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Summon a sea monster to eat them whole?”
“We’ve only got deterrent to keep the serpents away I’m afraid.”
“Some kind of miraculous stigmata that can launch fire at them?”
“I’ve got a deck swab that can make his eyes glow, is that close enough?”
She sighed. “No, I think it’s not. You’re not a very impressive crew, you know that? So very mundane.”
Thornby laughed a good deal longer than he should have, nearly forcing it as he thought about what a man like Lucius would have to be for Aisha to be so hung up on him. “I’m sorry, Miss Canta, I am a mere mortal. The bards likely won’t tell stories about me, not any that I’d like at least. Hmm, come to think of it I think there’s one about me going around Aillesterra. Pretty sure they have my name wrong though, so I’m not sure if that counts. Sounded something like Captain To-ro-n-bi.”
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It was Aisha’s turn to laugh. “Is that because the first bard couldn’t enunciate? Or did they put you to some pre-existing tune?”
He stroked his mustache and arched an eyebrow. “I think it was a bit of both, not that I could stick around long after I lost my ship. Had to shave my head to avoid detection. I dressed as a monk for three weeks and pretended to starve.”
“Pretended to?”
“The pilgrims live on charity, and no one gives charity to a man with fat in his cheeks. But they also don’t go expecting him to know how to hunt. Thankfully, I don’t feel bad about the monk I robbed, he had fallen out of his faith and became convinced that nothing mattered, that everything was preordained and there was no life after this. The simplest argument was to kill him, but I merely took his clothes. Shame I’ll never know what became of him.(1)”
“Captain!” his crow’s nest spotter called. “They’re turning!”
The amused grin on Thornby’s face vanished. He lunged forward and grabbed the railing to better squint at the distant vessel. “Towards us?”
“Aye sir!”
Aisha shook her head. “A little bold, aren’t they?”
Thornby clicked his tongue. “Means they probably have a stigmata user they’re proud of, but they don’t know who they’re dealing with.”
“Didn’t you just say that you had no one special on here?”
“Bah, the ship herself is special!” He slapped the nearest piece of wood for emphasis and signalled for the bell to be run.
“And if it comes to fighting?”
“I’m no stranger to a fight. Don’t worry, Miss Canta.”
Sera stuck her head out from below deck and spotted them. “Did somebody say fighting?” she asked as she emerged in full battle dress. She grinned, drumming her fingers on the handle of her sword.
Thornby shook his head and gave a bow. “How thoughtless of me. I forgot what a fine guest we had aboard. Lady Lynnfield, would you be so kind as to be our away party?”
“You’re not going to leave me away, are you?” she responded.
“Not at all, we’ll simply be a bit delayed.”
Sera laughed. “Not a problem in the least then. They’re just one ship, right?”
“So far,” he said.
She thumped a fist to her steel chest. “Leave them to me.”
“Right then,” the captain said, and excused himself from the ladies to start barking orders at his men. He rallied them in no time and soon rigging was being changed and boxes of weapons unloaded. Sails unfurled, billowing before snapping full with the entire might of the wind. The ship lurched forward, sliding high over the waves and slamming into them with enormous sheets of water.
Aisha had to jump back towards the helm to avoid getting doused in salt water, but that meant having her skull rattled by a war drum. The youngest of the crew was barely fourteen and they had him standing at the back of the ship beating away on his instrument loud enough to wake the dead.
“There are no oars, what are you doing that for?” she demanded, plugging her ears.
The kid didn’t respond, but the helmsman shouted over to her. “It’s for the other ships, to let them know we’re fighting,” the grey bearded man said with a grin.
A mere moment later, trumpets were bugling in the night and other drums picked up the beat, but no change to the sails of the merchant barges was made. The Blue Breeze II was on its own as it sped forward to intercept the Aillesterran craft.
Aisha straightened her back and slowed her breathing as memories of her voyage to Hearth Bay resurfaced. Her heart longed for the protection Lucius could give her, and she felt very foolish for having left Rackvidd against his orders. She could trust Sera, but Sera was best used at the front and she knew that. She was useless to the fight and knew that. The best thing she could do was to hide below deck and wait for it to be over.
The fact that she was less useful than a baby-faced boy sank a thorn into her pride which would go on to fester for months more, but she had no choice but to accept the truth. One does not get very far in life by denying reality, only by changing it.
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1. I know what became of him, but the tale of Seshiro could fill an entire novel by itself. To put it shortly, he became one of the wealthiest men in all of Aillesterra before he died trying to have sex with an emissary of his goddess. Getting robbed callously by a foreigner in his own land made him completely reverse his philosophical rut and hold it just as dearly.