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PATIENCE
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Patience stepped foot onto the boardwalk and left behind the impoverished stain of public transportation for good. He surveyed the ships at the Aquilanti docks. Among all the various ships, one white sail fluttered softly in the gentle sea breeze, higher than the rest. Embroidered on it was an iron cage, large enough for one person, and metal spikes facing inward. A single spike dripped red with the blood of Salvos. Subtle.
As always, he walked barefoot. The smell of the sea disgusted him and wrinkled his nose, but the heat put him at ease, even in his thick black robes. Compared to the Verdant Domain and Zephyria, Coralith isn’t so bad, if only for the heat.
Patience braced himself as he approached the ship. He loathed working with others. Charlotte burrowed deeply into his clothes near his chest to remain hidden. Patience paused at an abomination adjacent to his destination.
What the hell in this piece of shit? Rotted hull looks beat to hell. Staunch contrast to the Maiden’s ship, and it’s the only one nearby. Oh, here’s two of the crew. Rough duo. Seems even the sea has swine.
The two crewmen halted their work and watched him approach their neighbor. Without permission, Patience stepped aboard and wandered toward the captain’s cabin. No one around, probably all in there. Better put on my mask…
Patience swung open the door and strode in with an air of authority. A motley crew of six glared at him. Half of them, large men, stood quickly at the intrusion. Aggressive lot.
“What’s the meaning of this transgression, Zeke?” the furthest man said. He was deeply tanned, and old. Two things Patience hated.
“Who the hell are you, and who gave you bloody permission to board my holy vessel?”
Bloody permission, holy vessel… You must be Zeke.
“Oh my, gentlemen, please sit down,” Patience commanded. “I am Pat of the Dunes. The Iron Maiden sent me—” Patience looked at Zeke for emphasis. “—to board Her holy ship.” Zeke snarled. Ah, yes. Let the dick-measuring contest begin.
“A child like you—” Zeke stood at attention. There you go. "—must be The Spider." Patience didn't mind the vitriol in Zeke's voice, not when his title was praised, anyway.
“That would be correct. Whoever said notoriety was a curse?” Patience poured himself a draught of wine at the captain's table. “Suffice it to say that she’s sent me to take control.”
“If that is what The Iron Maiden wants,” Zeke said slowly, “then who am I, but a vassal to submit?” Vassals and vessels—all disposable. Replaceable. Who are you, indeed?
“A vassal, and a servant.” Sneer at me all you want, Zeke. Patience drank from the goblet and studied his audience. Zeke, and three other men. Two young women, one standing—lurking, really. The other sitting in the place of honor before the captain’s table?
“And what news does she bring?” Zeke turned a second goblet upside down on the table with a solid thud.
“While you were busy attending more important matters, I'm sure, I located Wrath. He is here. Just under your noses.” Everyone balked at the news, all except the seated girl, who beamed.
“Thank you for delivering this information. I will take it from here.” I am not some banal messenger. “As She has honored me with commanding the Shattered Isles.”
Patience’s anger betrayed him, frustration and disgust crawled across his lips. “Certainly, Pastor Zeke. You will handle the tactics, but according to my strategy.”
“Aye, tactics." Zeke crossed his arms. "And dirty work.”
Suddenly, Patience became cold. His skin itched, burned almost, as if he were lying naked on the ice caps beyond Zephyria. Reminds me of nights in the desert. A test. The Spider did nothing, he just endured it while standing there; he was Patience, after all. The two roughnecks behind Zeke didn’t notice the ordeal, but the others clearly did. Patience made sure to connect eye contact with each of the remaining four, to showcase his resolve, and to see whose eyes glowed, though he failed in that task. The ignorant two men grew impatient and shifted uneasily several times over. Dull, both of them, but at least sharp enough to not speak until spoken to. Whoever initiated the spell eventually lifted it.
You have certainly caught my interest, Zeke. I’ll have you show me how you can activate a Script without saying it, or even altering your eyes. Even if I have to force it from you.
“There. I hope the investment of your time was worth wasting mine,” Patience said. Of course, the two cannon-fodder grunts look confused. “So. This is all you have to show for your command of the Shattered Isles? Thugs and—” He looked at the tanned man and seated woman, who he suspected belonged to the neighboring ship. “—More thugs?”
One of the imbeciles, the one with the thick neck, stepped forward. Zeke halted him with a single raised hand. “You expect me to entertain my entire forces within my personal quarters?” You dare challenge me? “This is just my inner circle. Felix here is our Tracker, our shadow.”
One of the fools. Lithe and agile, jet black hair to match your outfit. Hasn’t broken that stupid perpetual smile since I walked in. Did you dress yourself at fourteen and say, 'This is good enough?' Throwing weapons, really? Frail excuse of a man. Expendable.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“Ragnar here, he’s our muscle.” Zeke motioned to the man who had just stepped forward. He was so tall he had to hunch over below the cabin ceiling. He sat back down on the edge of a small table.
Tanned and battle-scarred skin. No weapons. Plain white robe with a simple black belt. This one will be useful for a while.
“And, of course, my personal bodyguard.” Zeke motioned to the masked woman standing near him. Slim black leather outfit. Mask covering face and hair, though not those piercing purple eyes. “Though with your higher rank, I should leave her in your care.”
Rank—Entendre intended as an insult?
“You should know from my reputation that a guardian is simply unnecessary for me.” I’ll not have you entrap and watch me, with some nameless escort at that.
“All three are quite familiar with this area. They joined the Iron Maidens two years ago, shortly after Wrath showed his face in Coralhaven. They are loyal and trustworthy.”
“Very well. I look forward to working together. Now, good hunting to you all.”
Felix maintained his smile, but Ragnar and Zeke failed to hide their animosity, and their reluctance, at the dismissal. Zeke motioned for them to leave.
Felix and the girl show no changes in emotion as they leave. Maybe he’ll be useful after all. The girl, on the other hand, is going to be a constant nuisance to me, I can tell already. She should befall some accident, quickly. Patience glanced toward the door, which they left open, then to Zeke, who furrowed his brows but still rose to shut it.
“Now, you two,” Patience said to the tanned man, “you don’t quite fit the Iron Maiden mold.”
The man was weathered, sturdy. His bronzed skin was covered in gold jewelry and gold tattoos. He had gray hair and a black, peppered beard. Patience guessed he was nearing sixty. What struck Patience most about the man was the beautifully adorned captain’s robe that he wore. It bore a pattern that wrought Patience's envy. I’ll have that robe.
“You may not fully grasp the situation," Patience said to the old man, "but we are short on time—”
“Oi. Boy,” the girl said. “Don’t you see the fuckin’ hat on my fuckin' head?”
Tricorn hat, with a parrot feather sticking out. Patience acknowledged the parrot sitting on her opposite shoulder for the first time as well.
"All I see is a played-out stereotype. Get on with it, then."
“Captain Maddie Redwood of the—”
“A Pirate captain is no true Captain." The parrot squawked at Patience in protest. "How low you have stooped, Zeke, allowing common criminals to step foot into holy matters.”
The tanned man gripped the back of the chair his captain sat in until it splintered.
“Don’t mind the ignorant, Thorn,” Maddie said. “I've done nothing wrong in the eyes of the law. Pirates we may be, but of a different sort. My crew has turned over a new leaf.”
“Then my point still stands for your crew.”
“Isn’t the Church of Salvos founded on the pillar of forgiveness?”
Pillar. Today has been a day of interesting word choice. “Forgive, but don’t forget.”
“Sounds like a bastardization of the gospel to me.” The parrot flapped its wings. “But I’m sure Salvos hasn’t forgotten what you’ve done, to get that title of, what was it again… The Dune Buggy?"
I will strike you down as well.
“Cat got your tongue?” Thorn asked.
“Zeke,” Patience said, “you may go out and sic your dogs on Wrath alongside our Maidens, but forget not the punishment due for those who cross the line of our Holy Maiden, who—”
“Who in Her righteous resolve,” Zeke said, “has already personally approved their employment.”
“I see.” You laid a trap for me. Patience waved a hand at the door. “You may go as well, then. Zeke and I have other matters to discuss.”
“No,” Maddie said. “I’m afraid that I am only stopping by to negotiate our terms of future employment with Zeke, while we resupply here for another mission.”
“You are testing my—”
“After we complete that mission, we will return to join Zeke. That’s Zeke—not you, and not before.”
“SQUAWK—NOT YOU! SQUAWK—NOT BEFORE!” the parrot repeated.
Shut the fuck up.
“Why would someone of your…elegant stature…seek work with The Iron Maiden? It seems like you could have an easier time simply taking what you want.”
“I have a dream,” Maddie said.
Patience's face fell flat. “Pray tell.”
“Of an early retirement!” She grinned ear to ear. Like an idiot. Patience couldn’t comprehend the idea of ever settling, of ever stopping. The world simply offered too much to take. “And it just so happens that The Iron Maiden Herself pays the most. Nothing higher than a Sin’s Bounty. Not even Davy Jones.”
Thorn released his vice grip on the chair at last and straightened up.
“However, I’m afraid that, under light of new circumstances and,” Maddie looked at Patience as she spoke, “new management, my rate has now doubled.”
“No,” Patience said. “I’m afraid that is simply not possible.”
“I already told you, I don’t work for you. Triple the rate, now.” Maddie stood up from her chair and handed Zeke a shell. “I’ll leave you this to communicate with me. If you are willing to take my fee, and if Wrath appears near Siren’s Cove, you be sure to let me know.”
Zeke shook Maddie's hand. Why don’t you stare into each other’s eyes a little longer? Maddie left, and Thorn followed behind her. They also left the door wide open. Patience looked out the open door as he spoke loudly.
“Only one thing in Siren’s Cove. Don’t count on using her again.” He slammed the door, then took Maddie’s former seat of honor. He propped his feet up on Zeke’s captain’s table.
“How do you know Wrath is here?” Zeke took his seat.
Straight, rigid, attentive. Just like any sitting dog should be. “Turns out his parents are talkers, after all.”
Zeke leaned in. “What are they like?”
Why do you care? “Old. Frail. Two things I hate.” Patience looked Zeke up and down.
Zeke pulled himself back to his former rigidity. “I am old, yes. But frail… Well, that doesn’t sound like Liam. I remember him well.”
“Remember him?”
“I see you don't read the dossiers." Zeke scoffed. "I knew he was here, too. Wrath. I sensed it back on that first day I arrived, when we revealed his image. That feeling hasn’t gone away since.”
Hmmm.
“Well, Papa Bear ratted his son out easy enough. Just took the right pressure points."
Zeke glared at Patience, not moving, not wavering. Not convinced?
"How many men do you really have?" Patience asked. "A dozen won’t suffice. It’s simply not enough fodder after Coralhaven."
“We just need to corner him." Zeke broke their staring contest. "And then continue to kill him. Over and over again. Like Greed. ”
“How’d that turn out?” Zeke remained silent. “So your plan is…?”
Zeke smiled. “Leave the tactics to me, remember?”
“I have no patience for failure,” Patience warned him. “A single fuck up, and I take over and give you personal assignments. I’ve heard that the stress of having me as one’s superior has the tendency to shorten one’s life. Now, tell me you understand.”
“I’d love to see that, boy.”
I don’t like that gleam in his eye, or that smirk, either. I must continue to play the game with this one, and only show my cards when I’m certain I’ve seen all of his.
You need to drop another eye, Charlotte.
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