The captain stood by the windward rail, balancing against the lift and roll of the deck. Chrys’ first thought was that he could at least try to look like a pirate captain. It was not like there was not a variety of choice: Yuli’s cheap novels had offered mightily-thewed warriors, rapier-wielding aristocrats, bluff sea-dogs and slinking ruffians as well, of course, as lusty amazons. This one looked like the milder kind of shop assistant. He took an easy step forward, sure-footed despite the uneasy motion, and gave a graceful half-bow.
“Welcome aboard the Trifling Impost. I am Captain Verhassin. Yuli, perhaps you could introduce your friends?”
“If you will permit me,” Cardnial bowed in his turn. “Some of us have met Yuli previously, but others are unknown to her.”
As Cardnial made the introductions, Chrys revisited her impression of Captain Verhassin. The way he moved reminded her of the slight young woman who had taken out the Haghakin League All Weapons Championship three years running with a mixture of guile, coordination and speed. Chrys smiled at the memory, having watched the semi-final match. Her opponent had not lasted as long as the Igwé ship. She reverted to the present; their last wash and change of clothes had been some days ago. Since then they had fought underground, skinned gruyush, hurried through caves, spent days in the swamps. They were dirty, smelly, clad in ripped and smeared clothes. When the introductions concluded she asked if they might have a little time to make themselves more presentable before taking things further. Verhassin was so politely agreeable that she was sure he had been about to make the same suggestion.
As she and Aitonala sponged off the worst of the grime and dug around in battered packs for the least worst clothing, they discussed how much of their tale to tell. In the end they decided full disclosure was safest. After all, as Chrys pointed out, the Trifling Impost’s arrival was as unlikely to be a happy accident as Bajur’s key. She donned a rumpled but relatively clean tunic and was shown into the great cabin. The others came in, more or less refurbished. Chrys was glad to see that someone had found Skaia some better clothes than those she had borrowed. The captain greeted each person by name and made amiable small talk until all were assembled. Yuli came in last and declined a chair. She was, she said, more comfortable with a cushion on the floor.
Captain Verhassin opened with a gentle cough. “First, may I introduce Bosun Saiferes, who is here as the crew’s representative.” A large man in a Dravish kilt and with an intricate set of scars across his chest raised a hand in casual salute. “I am sure you have an interesting tale to tell. As the host, though, it falls to me to first relate what brought us to the scene.” Verhassin paused, took a sip of wine.
“Yuli and Juin brought luck with them when they came aboard, some four months ago. And more than luck – on several occasions they have offered information which has been of great value. So when Yuli told me that a prize of great worth could be ours if we reached the southern mouth of the Shianshi within two days, I and the crew took her seriously.”
“That we did,” rumbled Saiferes.
“We needed fair winds and, even then, to crack on, but we made fair time. When we came in, both Yuli and Juin were positive that the vessel we..ah, disposed of was crewed by those who would do everything they could to keep us from the prize. Had they been the Dravish navy we might have hesitated (“Mebbe” rumbled Saiferes), but they were not, so we got our retaliation in first. Now, Yuli tells us, the prize is ours. By “ours” I mean, of course, that both you and we have claims. Before we go to that, however, could we know what this prize is?”
Chrys took a sip of wine in her turn. “As to that, we do not know ourselves.”
Saiferes choked. Captain Verhassin looked blandly inquiring. Chrys went on. “We have not had the leisure to examine it fully. I can tell you where it was and how we got it.”
“Please do.”
She gave a succinct account of their trip from Lagash to the Castle of Unreturn, slightly stressing Bajur’s guidance and Skaia’s expertise in the swamps and mentioning, as if in passing, their connection with the Saka High Councils. At the end there was a thoughtful pause, then Verhassin cocked an eye at Yuli.
“Can you add anything, Yuli?”
“I think I can, sir.” Yuli smoothed her long braid with a huge hand, obviously considering what to say, then brought it out with a rush. “We have rescued our king, sir.”
Saiferes choked, again. Verhassin made a ‘go on’ gesture. “The king of the ape-kind, sir. The king considers me one of his people, so I can hear him. So can Juin. He told us to come, to bring him home. He said,” she hurried on “that he would reward all those who helped as befitted a king.”
“That could mean much or little,” commented Verhassin drily.
“Are you saying,” asked Rakt “that we have a king in a box? I mean,” he went on “it’s not even a big box. He isn’t...in bits, is he?”
“Bloody bones again,” muttered Aitonala. Yuli laughed.
“No, the king is everywhere. Well, everywhere he has people. He’s an essence, a feeling, the Wild of the apes, if you like.” She paused. “He can’t explain it. Apes are not very good with words. But long ago some part of him was captured, taken and held apart, to weaken the ability of a Wild to resist humans. The Dravish believe that apes are the guardians of the Wild, and they are not wrong. The box holds a part of that guardianship. They put him on an island, because we are not good swimmers, and put traps to keep our folk out, and surrounded him with magic that kept that part separate and weak. But we came to aid the king, and brought gruyush to keep humans out. And now you have brought that part of him out of prison, and we will re-unite the king.”
Bajur was frowning. Yuli reached across and patted his hand. “It may be that he reached out to God the Gracious, who took pity on an exile and a prisoner,” she offered. Bajur brightened.
Verhassin pursed his lips. “Two questions. The first is, where are we meant to take the chest? The second is, what happens if we open it? For the crew will not be happy that we tell them it contains no gold or jewels, and will want to see for themselves.”
Saiferes nodded. Chrys muttered that she too was not happy about the lack of gold and jewels. Yuli listened for a time.
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“If you will excuse me, sir? The king says that he should go north. He will tell us where, but it’s on the north Dravish coast. As for the second, the chest cannot be opened save at the right place and by the right hands. He does understand your concern, since some of his people can be difficult too. So he says that he will give his first gifts to those who want to receive them today, in token of more to come.”
“I thank him, and will be happy to take him where he needs to go,” said Captain Verhassin, with a tinge of resignation in his voice. “Saiferes, can you let the crew know we will be on deck shortly. I will convey what we know to the pledge-men, with you as witness, at two bells into the second watch. And pass the word for the master. Please finish your wine, but if you will excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I need to look at some charts.”
The party had all turned to look at Yuli. “Just what gifts can the king give? And how does one ask?” Rakt voiced the common thought.
“You place your hand on the chest, so that the king knows you. Then, when you have decided what you want, voice your wish aloud, either with a hand on the chest or to any ape anywhere. As for what, remember that he is a king, not a god. He cannot give you eternal life, nor command demons, nor bind the future. His powers are like those of the Wild over its creatures, to alter the body or tune the mind, convey information, endow some kinds of access to the ether. If he cannot grant it, he will tell you so, and not hold a first too-large wish against you.”
Chrys caught a slight emphasis on the word ‘first’, and decided to wait before asking for her gift. As the others were deep in thought she turned to Yuli.
“Why was the bosun here? And who are the pledge-men?”
Yuli grinned. “This is a pirate ship. The crew have shares, and a voice in decisions. So Saiferes sits in on meetings to put their view and see open dealing. For the same reason, the chest remains above deck, with Juin guarding it. If there is important news, the captain passes it through the pledge-men, those chosen by the crew to speak for each watch or department. If it’s a big choice, we put it to a vote of the whole crew.”
“And you elect the captain?”
“Aye. Verhassin’s been captain for seven years now. He says he’ll retire after ten, and breed fancy quails.”
Chrys had no doubt Yuli would be a contender for the job by then. She wondered what the writers of romance novels would make of her.
When she went back on deck the Dravish shore had sunk below the horizon. The Trifling Impost was heeled over, close-hauled, as it clawed back the distance north lost on her run down to the Shianshi. It was still some way to sunset but, out here on the Gulf, the wind had a cooler edge. After the swamps it was refreshing. She leaned on the windward rail, watching a crew-member repair a gash in the timber from the recent fight. The woman sanded the patch smooth, stowed her tools and then looked up before coming inboard.
“You’re one of the ones our Yuli and Juin brought us to, no?”
“That’s right. I’m Chrys.”
The woman cocked her head. “Did the same bastard what done things to our girls do that to your skin?”
“Ah, no. He had something similar in mind, but the others killed him before he got too far. This came from someone poisoning me.”
“Deary me, you land-folks do lead dangerous lives.”
“Are not you a pirate?”
“Certainly. Been one these twelve years and more. Carpenter’s mate, double shares, enough in the bank to buy meself a tidy sloop and never a serious scratch, bar that time I slipped with the spokeshave.”
The woman swung herself over the rail, shouldered her tool bag and went on to the next job.
* * * *
The sun was not quite at the horizon when the captain and the pledge-men gathered to witness gifts bestowed. The pledge-men, a band of earnest men and women, stood in a loose circle at a respectful (and safe) distance from the chest. Bajur came forward first, laid his hand and proclaimed clearly that his desire was whatever aid the king could give to the following of the Gracious God. He kept his hand on the chest for some moments, then bowed and stepped back. A flutter of disappointment passed around the circle. It was a pious wish, but hardly showy.
Skaia came next. She asked the king grant her the abilities needed to be the best of the Finders Web. When she stepped away, her body had a tauter look. She smiled, stood back against the mast and faded from view. Chrys cast a spell to pierce illusions, but even then had to look hard to glimpse her. Skaia came back into view with a pleased grin, to appreciative murmurs. The others wanted more time, but Juin swung forward and laid down her hand. As they watched she uttered a series of pants and soft grunts, and shuffled around the chest, dipping and bowing. When she stood back, the onlookers could see the image of an ape’s head slowly forming on the red hair covering her broad chest. Juin looked around.
“I asked the king to give me protection from harm done through the ether. I will not doubt him, but I am sure he does not object to a demonstration. Pevuaa?”
The tall woman who was the ship’s chief magician raised her hands and spoke words. A black-green cloud formed and shot towards Juin, only to dissipate an arms-length away. Pevuaa laughed.
“You are proof against a strong spell, certainly.” The pledge-men chuckled. Captain Verhassin spoke up.
“We have gained a rare prize, but the full value will be ours only after we deliver it. We’ll stow the chest safe for now and bend our efforts to making for our destination as fast as we may.”
The pledge-men broke up, talking excitedly as they went. Chrys had no doubt that the king would be asked for many and varied gifts, some regretted as soon as gained. She herself went to inquire about a wash and whether she could launder her clothes. It turned out the facilities on the Trifling Impost were better than those on her previous voyages. This was, a crew member explained, because the ports they visited were largely inhabited by cheats and thieves, many ex-pirates.
It took six days beating to windward to reach the place on the north Dravish coast where Yuli and Juin said the chest must go ashore. The best gift to ask for was a constant topic of conversation on the ship. The party generally avoided the subject. Instead they dined with Captain Verhassin and the officers, repaired or replaced gear, practiced with weapons and magic and, in Bajur’s case, spent time in meditation and prayer. Pevuaa and another magician were delighted to find out about the gruyush skins and made a very generous offer. They would, it appeared, add considerably to the ship’s protections when prepared and placed. They set about this immediately, working with Chrys and Cardnial as interested onlookers.
The appointed place was a bay hidden behind an offshore island. Tall jungle came down close to the shore, leaving only a strip of sand. No habitation was visible. The Trifling Impost came in after noon, and anchored well out. The chest was brought up and one by one those of the crew who wished to take their gift came forward, laid their hand down and spoke or whispered their request. The time for deliberation had clearly been of benefit. Very few were refused their first ask, and no great number walked away with less room in their trousers or shirts. Cardnial, Rakt and Deyilan took their turn and, at Yuli’s request, Hassani’s jar had a moment on the chest. It was dusk when all was done. The chest was lowered into the launch and rowed solemnly ashore. Yuli and Juin vanished into the jungle.
They re-appeared at dawn and said no words. Just waved from the beach, sat in the launch and went below once on board. After a time Yuli came up and conferred with Captain Verhassin. The anchor cable came in, the Trifling Impost made sail and they left the bay.