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Chapter 16. Corsairs |
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he gods were smiling upon him for a change. Not only had the capture gone a great deal smoother than he had hoped, but Morisedd appeared to have a bottomless purse of coin. The ranger all but jingled with it as he tossed his pack onto the secluded shore where they had dragged the boat up onto the sand. He was strong, as well, and Pendaran’s limp body was easily borne between them as they hauled him out of the prow and left him to lie above the lapping waves. Once his prey had fallen unconscious Belenus had ceased the beating. Although keeping him alive was inconvenient, it did mean more coin and he fancied those who wanted him alive would also want him relatively unscathed. He might have felt sorry for the man having those kinds of enemies had it not been for the ache of his own jaw and cheek where the idiot had slugged him. Still, not much Master Caradec could do now. “How much time have we got?” Morisedd asked gruffly as Belenus shouldered his pack. “Caribe said he’d meet us outside the gate before the bell tolled midnight. I expect we have an hour and about a mile to go.” “And you trust him?” Morisedd asked dubiously, stooping now to haul Pendaran onto his shins before tipping him head down over his shoulder. Grunting with effort, the ranger rose to his feet. “About as much as I’d trust a corsair,” Belenus chuckled, which was about as long as there was money to buy the man’s compliance. Fortunately, the funds Morisedd had given him for this part of the scheme had been more then sufficient. He still had a substantial sum set aside for a contingent plan. There was always a chance the ranger would change his mind or feel sorry for his sister. Belenus fished the rest of their items off of the skiff and drew the boat all the way onto the beach, heaving it behind some rocks and lodging it there. It had been painted brilliant red and white to make it visible at sea and so he spent some time dragging driftwood around its bulwarks until he was certain it was hidden if anyone actually managed to get a boat come looking for them. Of course, by the time it was daylight, he and Morisedd would be long gone. Hopefully. Caribe might balk at what he was being asked to smuggle on such short notice. Trying to arrange things on the mainland that day had been difficult enough, but he also had to avoid raising any suspicions among Pendaran’s friends. On top of that, Mog was no where near as trusting and malleable these days. Despite his burden, Morisedd moved easily through the darkened thicket that clustered above the tide line. Belenus, however, stumbled like a drunk, his feet constantly becoming snared in roots or stubbed against stones. It was a relief when they finally came upon the bare dirt track that led to Lion’s Arch. The faint light of the setting half-moon filtered through the dense canopy of the forest, revealing the road to be empty at that late hour. Walking in silence, he tailed the ranger, slowed by the weight of their packs, although he fancied Morisedd could have carried his own quite comfortably despite bearing their prisoner. Just outside the gate where the bridge crossed the river, he saw a faint pinpoint of lantern light as Caribe’s heavily swathed figure emerged to greet them. He held a hooded lantern in one hand and extended a heavily be-ringed hand in greeting. Morisedd shook it hesitantly as Belenus rushed forward to greet the shorter man. “Were you able to make the arrangements?” “It was difficult and if we do not depart soon the tide will turn against us. I had to refuse many lucrative offers today and lost much income. I hope my reputation is not harmed,” Caribe simpered, his eyes glistening in the lantern-light as he stared at Pendaran. Belenus, of course, knew Caribe’s complaints were code for more money. The corsair surmised they were desperate now that he could clearly see what Belenus was trying to smuggle away. “Show me that you came through and I will compensate you for your losses,” Belenus rumbled as the corsair moved closer and held up his lantern to look upon Pendaran’s face. Scowling, he glared at Belenus. “Are we going to be pursued by his friends?” Belenus snorted as if the very idea were ridiculous. “If he had friends, perhaps. Let us be going.” “You seem rather anxious to leave for someone who is not expecting pursuit,” the corsair said coldly, “Come this way, but I warn you, Master Belenus, I expect to be compensated for any troubles we might encounter as a result of your cargo.” “Of course.” With that, the corsair guided them down a narrow path that hugged the ravine where the river flowed past the walls of Lion’s Arch. It was slow going but at last they descended and Caribe led them to a small row boat moored where the river joined the bay. Morisedd placed Pendaran’s curled form in the prow before taking a seat beside Belenus in the stern. Caribe hooked his lantern to a cast iron pole that loomed out over the prow but left it hooded. Then, without further ado, they pushed off and the man began to row with the current, moving quickly until they reached the place where the river met open water. The little boat bucked and rocked sickeningly for a few moments. Belenus saw Pendaran stir and lift his head. Caribe, of course, was facing them, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to guide them toward the sleek silhouette of his swift little ship. Mercifully, they reached their destination before Pendaran gave them any trouble. Morisedd once more picked him up head down over his shoulder before using the rope ladder to crawl the short distance onto the deck where he was helped over the gunwale by a pair of sailors. Belenus followed him, reaching down for his packs and stashing them on the deck as each was passed up to him by Caribe. Pendaran squirmed uncomfortably on his side where Morisedd dropped him. “You can’t leave him like that, he’ll suffocate,” said a woman’s voice, “and I don’t offer refunds if the cargo is destroyed by its owners’ stupidity. You can place him in irons below deck where we keep livestock.” Belenus raised his face to regard the tall corsair woman. Her lean features were half hidden by a mask of black linen but her eyes were dark and piercing, daring him to disobey her. There could be no doubt she was in charge. “He’s magi. If you want him to burn down the ship, sure, I’ll put him in the hold.” The woman’s eyes narrowed and she swore at him, stooping to grasp the back of Pendaran’s jacket before hauling him onto his shins in one easy movement. He made a muffled cry and then grew silent, trembling as she drew his belly over the bulwark so that he was forced to look down at the churning black water. “You’re clever enough to use magic, so I won’t go into details, but suffice it to say if any of my crew are burned, hexed, tricked or driven mad, I’ll throw you overboard. Do I make myself clear?” Pendaran nodded obediently and she pulled him back onto the deck, gesturing one of the sailors to take him away. Then, hands on her swathed hips, she met Belenus’ gaze. “You expect us to take your magi prisoner to Cantha for one platinum? I’d laugh if I didn’t also find the notion incredibly insulting. There’s three of you, so that’s one platinum a piece, and since you tried to cheat me, I expect three times that. If you don’t like it, you can leave and we’ll keep your cargo as payment for the trouble you’ve caused us thus far.” Belenus sighed angrily and fished into the pouch of coins and platinum bars Morisedd had given him. He knew better than to argue. The woman meant business and hers was a position of strength. He forked over the nine bars of metal and watched as she examined them closely to ensure they bore the correct seal. “You’re in luck, gentlemen,” she said lightly, her voice no longer harsh, “You shall have my quarters for the voyage. I do hope you find them to your liking.” Without another word, she turned her back to them and began shouting orders, her voice carrying the strands of a chant that set rhythm to the work of her nine person crew. Frowning, Belenus followed one of the corsairs toward the raised stern of the double-masted craft. “I don’t trust these people,” Morisedd rumbled once they were alone inside a small cabin. Belenus claimed the upper bunk, not deigning to answer. He stripped down to his trousers and shirt sleeves, throwing the oversized green jacket Mog had given him over the table that occupied the cramped chamber. What kind of people did Morisedd expect, exactly? What a fool. “Get some sleep. They most likely won’t cut our throats on the first night out.” “What about Pendaran?” “He’ll be fine. He’s valuable to us, so now he’s valuable to them.” “Why are we going to Cantha?” Belenus was growing irritated. The stupid ranger had said very little and had showed no sign of protesting. Why was he getting cold feet now of all times? “I have some contacts there who will make executing our plan a little easier. And it’s easier to hide in the great city should we draw the wrong kind of attention.” “I hate the city,” Morisedd snapped, “Filthy cesspit. It is an affront to Melandru.” “You can tolerate it for a month and I think the return on your investment will make it worthwhile. And just think, no more Pendaran. We profit, he dies horribly. What could be better?”
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