Bassin Barrode was a good captain and a better pirate but he was bad at the business of piracy. He knew when to board a ship and when to stand off and pelt it with fire. He knew when to intimidate and when to move straight to violence. He knew when to take everything and when to throw a ship back so he could rob it again on the next trip.
The problem was that even with all these skills and a loyal crew behind him he seemed unable to keep hold of his treasure. A bad luck story here, a pretty face there, an ill-timed investment or a drunken party and suddenly the money would all be gone. Again.
Barrode and his crew were desperate. Their ship, The Magpie, was in bad shape. It had been hurriedly repaired so many times that it was now more patch than ship. They needed a new one.
So it was that Bassin Barrode and his crew chose to chase the greatest prize in all of the dune sea. The Great Queen’s personal treasure barge with all her ceremonial jewels aboard.
#
There are those who would argue with the title “Great Queen”. In theory, to be Great a ruler should be the recognised authority along both rivers and be ruler of all the plains cities (excepting the creeping city since that was hardly civilisation).
This Great Queen, Ahketmara II*, wasn’t exactly the recognised authority everywhere but she did have an absolutely huge army that no-one wanted to mess with. The Mountain cities traded with her and no-one else. Her Stormfleet patrolled the ocean waters and the sky above the coast. She was the only ruler practising the flood rituals.
However there were the problem of the pirates, who ignored her authority, and the slavers, who raided the rural communities that were supposed to be under her protection.
There was also the problem that every temple that traded with her merchants through the front door, had a back door that opened for the pirates and the smugglers.
You would think that with all that going on the Great Queen Ahketmara II would have been too busy to think about laying an elaborate trap to catch a single, particularly bold, pirate.
You would think so, but when Bassin Barrode fled the Queens treasure barge carrying a full half of her jewels he found the greatest ship of her navy, The Revenge, waiting in the shadows.
The Magpie fled to the most remote corner of the Dune Sea. A rocky wilderness that not even the Sarouin Nomads and the Sandwalkers would traverse.
The Revenge pursued with all speed, crying 100 armed men and two of the finest Dwerg fire mages alive.
The Magpie had been in bad shape before The Revenge peppered her with arrows, catapult shot, and fireballs. By the time she reached the first of the rock spires she was full of holes, missing half her canvas and had a crack in her main mast that suggested that was probably fatal to it.
#
Gripping hard on the ship’s wheel Bassin Barrode picked out a particularly gnarled and twisted spire of sandstone and steered straight for it. Behind him Su Yin braced herself against her harness and sent a gout of flame back towards The Revenge. The Magpie jerked forward.
“Cap’n?” said Gart, standing by the rail with the anchor in hand.
Barrode could only tell that Gart was nervous because the Sandwalker was using his rank. Usually he was all ‘Bass, my boy’ and back slaps and hugs. He only resorted to formality in times of direst need.
“Are we really doing this?” said Su Yin. She didn’t sound scared, or even particularly reluctant, just unsure.
“I’m open to other suggestions,” said Barrode, “You have three… two… too late. LOOSE THE ANCHOR.”
Barrode spun the wheel, turning the Magpie to the right and away from the spire. Gart threw the anchor at the spire, it caught on one of the lumpy outcrops of rock and the anchor chain pulled taught.
Barrode spun the wheel in the opposite direction and the timbers of The Magpie screamed as she was pulled in a tight turn, around the spire and back in the direction she had come from.
“Cut the chain!” Barrode screamed the order rather than spoke it. The adrenaline must be getting to him as much as to the rest of the crew.
Gart brought his great axe down, the chain parted, The Magpie was free of the spire and headed straight for The Revenge at close to top speed.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Fast but not fast enough for Barrode.
“Ramming Speed!”
Gart chopped through the base of the wounded main mast and then pushed it down, taking the last of the canvas and all of its wind resistance with it.
Su Yin channelled a final jet of super-hot flame, pushing the ship, briefly, to the fastest speed she’d ever gone. Gart ran to help Su Yin out of her harness.
Avine, wrapped in his cloak of darkness even though this was no time for stealth, climbed out from his place of safety under the reinforced forward hatch and made for his station by the forward locker.
It was a large metal box, bolted to the deck, and only Avine and Barrode had the keyes. Not that Avine needed keys but it was only polite to give him a set. Avine threw the doors open, and cut the ropes holding the barrels inside. Then he ran for the poop deck as if his life depended on it.
Valin and Jenn were still below deck. If they were following the plan they would each be standing by one of the braziers with a bucket of water. Barrode told himself that it was too late to worry about that part of the plan. There was no way around it.
Callyn appeared at the top of the ladder from the main deck. She often spent battles in her cabin since she didn’t have to see a fight to take part in it but now she joined him at the helm. “They’re turning,” she said. “It's not going to help.”
Barrode turned his attention back to The Revenge. Panic stalked the deck. The captain looked to be screaming orders but no-one seemed to be listening. The helmsman had tried to steer away from the impact but all he’d done was turn The Revenge so that The Magpie would hit them amidships.
The force of the collision was horrifying.
The keel of The Magpie split and she began to fall apart. The impact threw the barrels out of the forward locker and onto the deck of the Revenge. Avine was thrown off his feet and might have fallen off the poop deck and rolled all the way to The Revenge if Gart hadn’t grabbed his leg.
Callyn clung to Barrode and Su Yin clung to the aft brazier. Beneath their feet the ship lurched again and Barrode knew that the braziers were doused. He felt Callyn stiffen and knew that her eyes were glowing.
From The Revenge came renewed sounds of screaming. Water jetted up through the hatches and soaking wet sailors clawed their way out of the brazier deck. Now the only functioning brazier on either ship was the aft brazier on The Magpie.
“Finish them off,” said Barrode as both ships plummeted towards the barren desert floor.
Su Yin let go of the brazier and staggered to the front of the Poop Deck. Gart held her steady while she formed a glowing ball of flame between her hands and rolled it down the deck of The Magpie. Everything it touched caught fire. It bounced along the prow and onto the main deck of the Revenge. The men at arms parted before it.
Barrode abandoned the ship’s wheel and drew his dagger. He began to hack at the ties and patches that held the Poop Deck in place. Gart joined in.
Valin and Jenn were caught below decks, scrambling up the ladder from the cabin level. Avine tried to help but couldn’t reach them.
“Calyn,” growled Avine, “A little help.”
The Mystic murmured something under her breath and Valin and Jenn were carried up to the hatch by a violent gust of wind. Avine pulled them through.
On The Revenge the ball of flame had reached the barrels. They too caught fire. The Alchemist’s fire inside began to boil.
Jenn joined Barrode and Gart in hacking at the support ropes of the Poop Deck.
The Magpie had been trouble ever since they bought it. The Poop Deck was a retrofit, added to the body of a low, wide merchant ship to turn it into a fighting vessel. It made the back of the ship top heavy, which was why the aft burner had been moved there. The Poop Deck had started to come loose almost as soon as they’d finished paying for her. So they had tied the Poop Deck down and started saving for a new ship.
Bassin Barrode cut through the last of the ropes. Now, as the crew of The Magpie shot skyward on the remains of the poop deck, and The Revenge dropped like a stone, he was no longer regretting buying a ship with a loose Poop.
“I was sure the Alchemist’s fire would explode when the barrels burned,” said Valin, lying face down and peering through one of the knotholes in the deck.
“That’s cus you don’t know Alchemist’s fire,” said Avine. “It gets very unstable when it’s hot but it won’t explode without either a spark or a sudden jolt.”
Barrode crawled cautiously to the edge of the deck and peered over the edge. Below The Revenge hit the sand with an almighty thud that was followed by a sound that was something like WHOMP, but so loud that it was beyond hearing. Barrode felt the sound hit him and pass through him as if he was barely there at all.
The WHOMP was followed by an even louder, lower sound. A kind of rumbling roar that filled the air with dust and went on for far too long.
When the second sound eventually faded into nothing the crew sat in silence for a long time. Eventually the coals in the brazier began to burn down and the raft began to sink.
“What are we going to do now?” said Callyn. “No supplies, no money and a thousand miles from the nearest water.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say no money,” said Barrode, pointing to the leather sack tied to the helm.
“Not much use in the middle of the damn desert,” said Jenn. “It’s not like we can buy supplies.”
“We’ll find something,” said Barrode.
“At least one thousand miles from the nearest water,” said Valin.
The raft sank to the desert floor. Or rather, to where the desert floor should have been. Barrode peered through the clouds of dust, confused by the glint of moonlight on water that he could see below them. “More like one thousand feet,” he said.