Trajan watched the small flickers of light grow in number. The pinpoints of yellow were so far away that they seemed hardly more than two groups of fireflies against the backdrop of the moonless night, until one of the clusters morphed into a steady orange glow. It grew in intensity and soon Trajan and everyone else on deck recognized that the two groups of fireflies had been the dueling cannon shots of warring ships, the loser of which was now burning uncontrollably.
“Alter our course to intercept them!” Inigo hollered to his steersman above them.
The ship turned slowly to face the action, barely on the horizon of the still sea.
“How far off are they, do you think?” Trajan asked.
“Far,” Archard said. “With this trickle of wind, we’ll be hard pressed to reach them by dawn.”
“Suppose the ship that fired on them will rescue the survivors?”
“Likely,” Westley said, “But in these parts you can’t count on it. And in the darkness they’ll miss some unfortunate souls. We’ll do what we can, though.”
Trajan nodded and the ship moved slowly through the calm waters.
As the first light crept up on the horizon, they were able to make out flotsam in the water. Westley leaned out and peered further with his spyglass. “Inigo, what do you see?”
“It looks like a man, waving at us.”
“Yes,” Westley said, “two of them, in fact.”
“Trajan, prepare the boat,” Inigo said. “We’ll lower it to them.”
The light grew brighter every minute and Trajan could see two men floating across a broken section of planking, barely above water. The men turned their makeshift raft toward the ship and kicked their legs to close the distance.
Trajan and three of the deck hands worked the pulleys to lower the lifeboat into the water. As soon as it hit, the men grabbed hold of it, pulled themselves over the side and collapsed, exhausted and shivering. Trajan could tell they were not fishermen or normal sailors. Pirates.
When the boat was lowered on deck the men made no attempt to sit up or give thanks. One of them had fallen asleep and was already snoring.
“Sir?” Trajan said, handing the conscious man a flask of water. “Are you injured?”
“Bah,” the pirate said taking the flask, wrapping his whole mouth around the nozzle and swallowing until it was empty. He handed it back to Trajan who took it in disgust. “Got anything stronger than this here, sonny?”
“Trajan,” Inigo said, “fetch a bottle whiskey from the galley.”
At that the other pirate opened his eyes. “Make it two, and hurry yourself up. I’m freezing here.”
Trajan made like he was about to parry the insult but Archard silenced him with a wave of his hand. “Don’t waste your breath on such as these. They’re below you.”
The pirates glared at Archard, then burst out laughing, laid back in the boat, and put their feet up.
Westley shook his head. Inigo rolled his eyes and tipped the boat over, dumping the pirates onto the deck. Cursing, they jumped up and brandished knives, only to be silenced by Westley’s sword, the point of which touched the foremost pirate’s throat.
“Do be respectful. We did just save your pitiful lives, you know.”
“You call this saving?” the larger pirate growled. “Fishing us out of a perfectly peaceful sea just to string us up on the yard arm along with your raggedy flag up there? I’d rather take my chances with the sharks than Florinese bandits like you.” He spat. “Curse you and your scabby king, and hurry up with that whiskey, child!”
Quidest moved forward and caught their attention. “Hey there, toots,” one of them gawked.
“Save your toots, and speak up lest I end you right here,” she said, raising her dagger. “Tell us what business you had here and why the Florinese sank your ship. I haven’t the patience to bother with hanging pirates, though no doubt you deserve it.”
“Shows what you know, sissy. It warnt no Florinese ship. If it had been, we’d be sittin’ in their brig by now. It was Roberts.”
“What makes you say that?” Inigo said, astonished.
“Because it were,” the smaller one said, giving a mostly toothless grin. “Somebody tell the fat Spaniard there that everybody in these parts knows Roberts’ ship when they see it.”
“But why did he fire on you? Did you provoke him?”
“We hailed him last night around sunset. Roberts used to be a right fun chap. The next thing we know, he’s turning to fire on us. We had to turn tail and book it out of there, but he pursued and opened fire as soon as he caught up with us. That’s all I know.”
“And he left you there in the water?” Quidest asked.
“Never even circled. Just sailed away once we started burning. Ship went down in seconds.”
“I don’t understand,” Westley said, sheathing his sword and folding his arms. “Roberts wouldn’t lay waste to another pirate ship with cannons. He’d board it, pillage it, and move on.”
“That’s what usually happens, anyway,” the large pirate said, taking a bottle from Trajan and guzzling the whiskey.
“We heard a story from another crew, said Roberts sank their ship, too, without even inspecting their haul. I didn’t believe it till last night but I do now. There used to be an understanding among our kind. Roberts must have lost his rocker.”
“It’s unprecedented, is it not?” Westley turned to Archard. “Roberts attacking other pirate ships. To what end?”
“Perhaps he’s ridding the sea of his competition?” Trajan asked.
Archard and Inigo nodded their approval.
“This would mean –” Westley began, but was interrupted by the sound of the pirates leaping overboard.
The assembly went to the sides of the ship and saw them swimming frantically in the direction of the nearest land mass, still several miles in the distance.
“They’ll drown for sure. Are they mad?” Trajan said.
“No,” Inigo said. “They’re pirates. They’d rather drown than be caged.”
“Should we recapture them?” Quidest asked.
“They’ve made their decision. Let them be,” Archard said and sat down on a crate. “I admit though, I am distressed by their news. If it’s true that Kadir is wantonly attacking and destroying pirates, he is either in league with Florin and working on their behalf, or…”
“Or Trajan’s right,” Inigo said, “and every pirate should fear him. Perhaps even fat, old, retired ones.”
The ship sailed in the direction of the land, leaving the escaped pirates in their wake.
“Is that new Florin, then?” Trajan asked.
“Yes, Bella Major, the fourth largest in the New Florin chain of seven islands,” Westley said. “It’s the one least loyal to Humperdink and it’s likely Roberts would port there to replenish his water or other stores.”
“There are quite a lot of ships near.”
“Aside from pirates they also have some fantastic chefs on this island.”
“It’s where I learned to cook,” Quidest said. “Inigo liberated a French master chef on one of our journeys, and brought him here. He loved it and refused to return to France. Donat, was it?” she asked.
“Donatien,” Archard corrected. “He is a savant with an octopus.”
“It’s a bit of a trading post for pirates – weapons, supplies, chefs,” Inigo said. “Let us make a westward survey of the island before going ashore.”
They turned to steer away from the bay that was busy with a variety of ships. Trajan was amazed by the diversity of Oriental, European, Viking, Greek, and rural savages on rafts like Tamati’s people built; it was as though every people on earth was represented in this far outpost. The Florinese flag flew on a number of ships, and Trajan noticed at least one Florinese warship in the distance, though noticeably absent were any bearing the crest of Guilder.
They moved around a peninsula surrounded by large rock formations jutting out of the water. Small settlements were along the shore here and there, and occasionally the crew spotted what looked like trade negotiations taking place between men of nationalities Trajan couldn’t discern.
Westley’s ship turned another corner around the rocks, and as the next portion of land came into view he saw a large ship in the distance. Trajan lifted his spyglass and examined it from the water line up to the topmost mast. A pirate ship. He was about to ask a question when he heard Inigo speak.
“There she is!”
Trajan noticed a hint of pride in Inigo’s voice.
“Trajan my lad, isn’t she the finest ship man ever crafted? Behold, the pirate ship Revenge.”
Trajan gulped. He marveled at the size of it, but also of the beastliness of the thing. There were burn marks and dents along the entire hull. The masts and rigging looked strong as iron, but the sails were stained and bore unusual markings Trajan had never seen before. Rows of cannon studded its length.
“This Kadir of yours seems to place a premium on firepower,” Westley said. “He’s transformed it into a fortress.”
“Yes,” Archard said, in awe. “Impressive.”
“Drop the anchor!” Inigo shouted.
Trajan looked at him.
Inigo put his hand on Trajan’s shoulder. “We must prepare.”
“Won’t he see our flag and run off to avoid capture? Shouldn’t we overtake them while we have the element of surprise?”
“Not at all,” Westley said. “It doesn’t work that way, not out here. In Florin, royal subjects would be utterly appalled to consort with a pirate, especially a notorious one. But outside the pomp and formality of their castles, they are businessmen, and all too happy to do business with anyone who will fill their coffers. Roberts would expect nothing less. He’d figure we were seeking to hire him as a mercenary, or to sabotage his competitors. He’s constantly entertaining bribes to provide safe passage. It’s quite common, actually.”
“Besides,” Archard said, “Roberts is almost certainly not aboard. He’s probably on shore conducting some sort of business.”
“So we just wait for him?”
“No,” Westley said. “And now that we come to it, here is what I propose. Archard and Quidest should take the boat and try locating Kadir, while the rest of us stay here and monitor the Revenge. Once Archard locates him, he can negotiate terms for a duel, preferably on that rocky beach over there which looks rather perfect.”
“Oh yes, I fought there once or twice,” Inigo said. “It is good terrain, or at least it once was.”
“Well, madam,” Archard said taking Quidest’s hand.
“Wouldn’t it be safer for her to remain on board?” Trajan asked. “I mean, them being pirates and all, and she being a lady?” “My boy,” Archard laughed, “I’m surprised you don’t know this, but if ever you want to get a pirate’s attention, you are best served by having a beautiful lady at your side.” He bowed to her, and she nodded and smiled. “Shall we?”
Archard and Quidest hopped out of the boat and pulled it up onto the beach.
“Well,” she said, spotting the tips of two structures above the trees. “I suppose he must be up there somewhere.”
“Yes, let’s try there first. With luck we will find Kadir himself, and not have to deal with any of his men beforehand.”
“Pirates are fools, they’re easy enough to dupe if you know their type.”
Archard smiled. “Yes, of course, but Kadir is not. Perhaps you should do the talking?”
“With pleasure.” She smiled, picked up her skirts, and stepped over the rocks and onto a path.
Archard nodded. As she passed, he gripped his sword hilt.
Inigo watched them through the spyglass as they ascended the small slope and disappeared behind a canopy of palm trees. He then turned his attention to the grand pirate ship. He saw a few men lounging on deck but little activity.
“How many do you suppose are on board?” he asked Westley.
“I would imagine at least twenty, perhaps not more than fifty,” he murmured through his own spyglass.
“That seems rather low for a ship of that size,” Trajan said.
“The fewer the number, the larger the share of the booty,” Westley answered. “Besides, pirates are transient by nature, and not the healthiest lot on earth. The turnover is constant.”
Trajan paced, anxious. “Do you suppose they’ll arrange something today?”
Inigo looked at him. “They’ll have to find him first. From what Archard says, this Kadir will relish the challenge. Patience, son.” Inigo turned his glass back to the trees. “You will soon have your revenge.”
Under the darkness of the jungle, Archard and Quidest could practically drink the air that was trapped under the treetops. They stepped over sand traps, shooed small reptilian beasts out of their way, and Archard more than once sliced the head off of a snake that snapped at them from dangling vines. After an hour, Quidest stopped short. In front of them stood two pirates roasting a small creature on a spit.
Archard nudged her as if to say you first and smiled.
Quidest pursed her lips and took a deep breath before bellowing in an Australian accent, “Aw crikey, when will this blasted trail end. I’m starving! Oh, wait now!”
The pirates jumped at the intrusion and turned to face her, fumbling for their knives with confused looks.
“What thar? Where’d you come from?”
“Dahling, look!” Quidest rushed toward the fire, kneeling and admiring the cooking meat. “This’ll do right plumply. We’ll join you, yes?”
The pirates cocked their heads, still taking in the situation.
“Oh,” Archard smiled, “yes, of course there is plenty to go around. It smells delicious.”
“Hey now,” the pirates said with gritted teeth.
“What is it, boar, rat?” Quidest asked as she stood and locked her arm within one of the pirate’s and patted him on the back of the hand that brandished his knife. Her voice was slower now, soothing. “Let us sit and eat together. We’ve come a right long way, and though I don’t want to keep Roberts waiting, I gotta eat something or I’ll fall over.”
“Roberts?” one said, even more confused. “What know you of Roberts?”
“My lads,” Archard said, “Milady here is an associate of his and has traveled a great distance to meet him in this place. He is up there, is he not?”
“He is. But he said nothing of you two.”
“Our meeting is…what’s the word dear?” she asked Archard, still patting the pirate’s hand.
“Clandestine,” Archard said, tapping the side of his nose.
The pirates stared, still confused.
“A smaller word, dear.”
“Secret.”
“Ah,” the pirates smiled, and put away their knives.
“Now, after we’ve had a bit of lunch,” Archard said taking a bottle of wine from his bag, “what do you say you chaps escort us to your master?” The pirates bared toothless grins while watching him uncork the bottle. Then Archard sat, retrieved two fancy golden goblets from his satchel, and poured the wine into them. “Well then,” he handed the pirates the gold cups, “let us drink to a long career of piracy and conquest,” and he swigged from the bottle while the pirates gulped their portions.
“Another?” Archard winked.
Soon the pirates were stumbling along the path, shoulders locked together, singing as they led the way. Once the direction became clear, Archard stopped. “Good sirs, this is well far enough for me. You’ve been most gracious guides and we can go on from here. Milady?”
“Oh,” Quidest said, patting one of the pirates on the cheek, “I suppose. Do have a rest now, boys. Perhaps we’ll find you here later on.”
The pirates fell down, laughing and burping. “Right ho, Milady! He’s right in there.”
Quidest rolled her eyes at Archard and they walked toward the dilapidated chateau.
“Masterful,” Archard said.
“Thank you. But you’d best do the talking from here on out.”
Archard walked with slow confidence. He made a point of not making eye contact with the two pirates standing outside the entrance and quickened his step to walk right past them while fidgeting to put on his gloves. Quidest walked confidently beside him.
As they passed, the pirates scanned them up and down but said nothing. Rather, they shared a look with one another, and followed them.
Archard and Quidest felt their presence a few steps behind, but kept on. They moved past other pirates, seven in all by Archard’s count, and every one of them eyed the newcomers with rough stares, rising to their feet. A few more steps and they turned a corner right into a small room with four men, almost bumping into the closest one.
Archard immediately recognized Kadir standing a full head above the others. He looked much older than when Archard had last seen him. His red beard was longer, and he had a large scar on his face and another on his neck, both of which Archard was surprised to see. He wore a thick stained leather tunic and stood with his arms crossed.
The four men turned to face Archard and Quidest, startled, and two of them made to draw their swords. Archard saw these were not pirates, possibly merchants and though armed, not threatening.
He turned his attention to Kadir, smiled, and said in a gay voice, “Roberts, I’ve found you at last. Pardon the intrusion, but have you a moment to grant an audience to an old friend?” Archard removed his hat, bowed, then raised and locked eyes with Kadir, smiling.
Archard kept his smile but knew something wasn’t right.
Kadir’s eyes widened and he looked toward the other pirate. Archard followed his gaze, and recognized alarm on his face as well.
Archard’s smile faded, and Quidest now turned to inspect the pirates who were closing in behind them.
“Sirs –” Archard began.
“Why does he call you Roberts? What is this?” one of the merchants bellowed.
The other merchant drew his sword and attempted to point it at the pirate next to him, the one Kadir had shared a look with, but that pirate drew his own sword with dazzling speed, disarmed the man faster than one could blink, and slashed him through the heart.
Kadir punched the other merchant with such force it sent him unconscious through the air, and leaving Archard and Quidest standing still as statues.
Archard dared not draw his sword.
Kadir and the other pirate shared a look and then turned their attention back to Archard. From behind him the pirates murmured to one another until one of them asked, “Yeah, how about it? Why did he call you Roberts?”
Archard looked at Kadir and smiled.
Kadir put his fist into Archard’s face, who fell backward, knocked out cold.
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