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Chapter 42

Beads and Knickknacks

Of all the things I’ve had to do, I like slaughtering children the least. The cave-witch had been prepared for mystic combat, but less so for Gamilla walking up and thrusting a spear into her stomach.

For a critical few seconds, there was no fog over my mind, as I wrapped her death-curse in mana, clenched around it while it thrashed and eventually smothered.

“That,” I mumbled, “was the biggest curse I’ve ever dealt with successfully.”

“Are you okay?” Kismet asked.

.....

“Yeah, boss. You coughed up blood when it bounced you off the ceiling.”

“Added a day or two to my healing time.” I said. “Does Gamilla still have eyes? Okay, then it was worth it.”

One of my eyes was swelling shut, but that was a thirty hour timer.

I phased in and out of consciousness while they used me to detect curses and taint and other evil magics.

Everything associated with cooking or the living quarters was tainted, and near three fourths of the magical treasures. But there were enough herbs to bungle two half-healing potions out of the batch, which did wonders for me and didn’t seem to harm Dittihammas.

We took two duffel bags of beads and masks and cloth and other assorted sundries, and set the rest on fire in the cavern chambers where they resided.

And even then, the People of the island would not speak to us. You’re welcome, if any of you are reading this, for removing the ghosts that were eating your children.

The herbs we had originally come to trade were not in season, as a final kick in the teeth.

And so, we set about the dual tasks of making huts and a raft. The plan was to hit the current west of the island, and let it carry us back toward the main trade routes.

It took a week and a half. Whenever you read fiction and they ‘easily weave bark into twine’, remember that author was probably hit in the head plenty of times already.

In the end, we used pegs to secure the pieces of wood together, and set out on a three-day journey with four days of food and six of water.

Flipping a raft after a storm capsizes it is neither fun nor easy, but we did that. Several of our belongings got wet, but nothing major was lost.

And, because our plan was made of almost pure dumbness, we ended up in Lavin Buscala, native port to most Norvik vessels, where our cultural goods were worth next to nothing.

“So where are they worth the most?” I asked.

“See, that’s where I’m at a loss.” Gamilla said. “Failing anything else, Boadicea’s Girdle, the Explorer’s Guild.”

“We can check on Miss Turner while we’re there.” Kismet said.

Dimmihammas cleared his throat. “That is an unfortunate port for the missus and myself; we ought not to linger there.”

“Is a single nightfall safe?”

Madonna shrugged. “Was last time, but let’s not spend Vainday there.”

#

As it turned out, the Explorer’s Guild had quite enough ‘trinkets’ and no interest in ours. I was tempted to let Madonna burn their guildhall to the ground.

“As it happens, we do know where to find Miss Turner. She has found a map to buried treasure on Salamancae. As this venture cannot be sanctioned by the Explorer’s Guild, it is no conflict of interest to tell you where it is.”

“Most excellent, sir. Thank you for this information.”

“Not at all. Did you have further business with the Guild at this time?”

“Not at this time, sir.” I said.

Once we were outside, Madonna winked at me. “You know, burning pompous little men alive in their guildhalls is a great stress reliever.”

“No, with luck we can be out of this port by sundown.”

She pursed her lips. “Hm. Very well, later it shall be.”

We made our way back to the docks.

“Well, what do we do with a trunk full of useless crap?” Gamilla asked.

“Think of them as trade goods.” I said. “Maybe useless to us, but not to the natives.”

“I’ll give it a try, but I’m not hauling useless crap every which way over these islands.”

“Speaking of which...” I told her where we wanted to go, and received a vocal lambasting that threatened to curl my scales off a month early.

“No, no, it makes sense, and furthers the plan. It’s just... the captain is a lush, and likes his women taller than himself.”

I rubbed my knuckles under my chin. “If he moves to force things, does our letter of marque cover that?”

“Not unless we kill the entire crew.” She said.

“Sounds like a win-win to me.” Madonna said.

“No. Lose-lose!” Kismet protested, brush in hand. “What happened to monthly spa day?”

“We knew we were trying to not spend tonight here.” I said. “Besides, you seemed to like that spring at Neo Esteban.”

She folded her arms, and pouted. “And we’re wintering either here or Neo Esteban, somewhere I can train in a proper school of arms.”

“That would be Neo Esteban, then. Unless you plan on being ready by then?”

“Oh husband. All things in good time.”

And so, we booked passage on the Sea-Sprite’s Outrage. We ended up not disposing of the captain, although that deserves a full story.

#

On our second day out, the captain took us far to the east. This may sound odd for a vessel headed to the southwest, but it swung clear of the fish-men’s known waters, and then back almost due west along a sea corridor called the Broad Canal, just north of the Kraken-spawn’s territory.

This was the fifth day, and we were already making serious plans for the captain to fall overboard and never be seen again. “Pirates to port!” came the call from the crow’s nest, a watch post atop the main mast.

Unlike other crews, nobody on the Outrage even suggested we should not be on deck. Our pursuers had an advantage of speed, something to do with draft and displaced water. Not my particular scientific interest.

The captain kept us bearing west for most of the day.

As they closed, Narces leaned over the railing to watch. “Looks like a grappling hook, boss.”

“I trust your eyes. How close are they to range?”

There was a thundering noise as the grapnel, three feet across, landed squarely atop the aft-castle, rapidly scratching backward to lock on the rear railing.

“Pretty much now, boss.”

“I’ll get the others, then. You know your business better than I do. Make them bleed.”

He took a deep breath, seeming to expand slightly. “This is my profession, boss. Now that I’ve unlocked From the Saddle and Mock the Wind? I’ve been waiting near a season for this.”

Both of those are feats that negate various penalties in ship-to-ship archery, and Narces wasn’t a slouch without them.

The Kraken’s Clamshell is one of those with large metal shields affixed to the railing, but there was no shortage of targets in the netting above, waiting for their chance to swing across the gap between ships and engage.

The others, with the exception of Dimmihammas, were ready.

“When you ARE ready,” I said, “we’ll be on the deck, fighting people large enough to ignore you and missing your presence.”

Which reminded me, I’d never gotten my knife back from him. Well, he needed it now.

We almost missed the start of the fight, pirates making impossible leaps due to abilities that allowed them to do so without breaking ankles or other limbs.

“Defend the aftcastle!” Captain Lavasca hollered.

“Kismet...”

“Flanking Gamilla.”

“Wife. The enemy’s sails.”

“A single line of fire from there to there...”

I clasped her shoulder. “Fine. Your flames, your call.”

Narces was far forward, almost to the forecastle.

“I’ve got your ankles.” Dimmihammas told her.

She smiled at him. “I knew you weren’t entirely without ability.”

I set my sights on the shields. None were small enough... wait, I was taller now. Maybe that one...

It was iron, inlaid with silver in the form of a bull’s head. Not exactly what I’d wanted, but ... meh, it was close enough. I rushed to where that shield would impact when our vessels collided.

Only the early boarders wouldn’t let me get there!

.....

And let me say, the Kraken-spawn gave definite benefits to her minions. They were easily a single rating point above our men, at least in Might and Valor, the statistics governing melee combat.

The start of any boarding action is a matter of numbers; those first on a ship would be attacked by three or four defenders, from multiple directions. It was a matter of getting new boarders on the defending vessel faster than they were dying.

And they WERE dying; two or three of them for every one of us. But our crew was also dying, especially after the vessels crashed together.

And then things seemed hopeless... until they didn’t. I started having to look for enemies, and then I couldn’t find any.

My new shield, unfortunately, was still fastened to the railing of the burning hulk that had attacked us.

And that was how we were rid of the lecherous captain, at the cost of a little more than half the crew.

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