Corsair (6 page)

“I’ve something to say,” Maroth Marstel rumbled.

Ilkur nodded to Marstel. “The floor is yours, my lord.”

The old lord rose slowly to his feet. “Piracy in our waters is intolerable! The Merchant Council demands action to protect our trade against the depredations of pirates. The Sokol ship makes five lost in the last three months. We are being ruined by these murderous attacks! The lost cargoes are bad enough, but need i remind the council that dozens—no, scores— of our sailors have been slaughtered mercilessly?” Marstel banged his meaty fist on the table, warming up to his customary volume. In truth, he needed little coaching from Rhovann in bombast; all the elf mage had had to do was throw the old fool an issue to fire his imagination. “We’re pouring a fortune into city walls to deter an enemy that we have already defeated, while we are being pillaged on the high seas! I know of three merchant companies that cannot afford to lose one more cargo. They’ll be ruined in the next attack—and if our merchant companies fail, then they’ll no longer pay the harmach to cut his timber, they’ll no longer pay the good folk of Hulburg for their work, and they’ll no longer sell their wares in our streets! Disaster sails toward us, my lords and ladies, with cutlasses dripping blood and corpses in its wake, and yet we have done nothing! So when does the harmach intend to take action?”

Ilkur did not answer immediately, nor did anyone else. Perhaps they weren’t sure if Marstel had meant the last question to be rhetorical or not. Rhovann hid a smile. The last bit about cutlasses and corpses was pure Marstel bombast; the old man had been caught up in his own topic, as Rhovann had expected he might be.

Harmach Grigor sighed and looked at the old noble. “Lord Marstel, what would you have us do?”

“Sweep these corsairs from the Moonsea, and secure our livelihood!”

“In case it escaped my lord’s attention, I do not command a navy,” Grigor answered.

“Then you must begin outfitting warships immediately. The Merchant Council insists on nothing less.”

“Navies are expensive,” Wulreth Keltor objected. He was the Keeper

of Keys, the official who looked after the harmach s treasury. Rhovann found him a sour and querulous old man. “We cannot simply wish one into existence, Lord Marstel!”

“Nevertheless, if the harmach will not see to the safety of our commerce, then the Merchant Council will take steps to do so under its own authority,” said Marstel. “It is a matter of self-defense!”

Grigor’s eyes narrowed. Clearly he recognized the danger to his authority implicit in Marstel’s threat. Only a few months ago he’d almost been unseated by the Merchant Council under the leadership of his treacherous nephew Sergen. “You are welcome to arm your ships as you like and crew them with whatever guards you can afford,” he said. “But you have no authority to act in my place, Marstel. I am charged with the defense of this realm, not you.”

“I hesitate to suggest it,” Deren Ilkur said, “but is there some arrangement that can be made? Bribing the pirates to let our ships pass unmolested might be less costly than outfitting warships to deter them.”

“That leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” Geran Hulmaster said. The swordmage shook his head. “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but those arrangements have a way of growing more expensive over time. And you’d still lose ships every so often, because you can’t bribe every pirate on the Moonsea.”

“If bribery isn’t an option, then how can we best defend our sea trade?” Burkel Tresterfin asked. “Can we guard the merchant coster ships with detachments of Shieldsworn? Or do we do as Lord Marstel suggests and build warships?”

“We don’t have Shieldsworn enough to man every ship sailing from Hulburg,” Kara Hulmaster said. She leaned back in her chair, thinking. “For that matter, even if we could afford to build warships, I don’t know how we could crew them. It would take at least two or three well-armed vessels to secure the waters near Hulburg. We would need several hundred sailors and soldiers.”

“Impossible,” Wulreth Keltor said. “We haven’t the treasury.”

“So we can’t afford a navy, and we don’t believe bribery is the answer. What is left to us, then?” the magistrate Nimstar asked.

No one spoke for a long moment. Rhovann nodded to himself. Even if the Hulburgans had settled on building a navy, it would take too long and cost too much to interfere with his designs. “There are other cities on the

Moonsea that maintain fleets,” he said into the silence. “Perhaps we could ask Mulmaster or Hillsfar for protection?”

“That may prove more costly than building our own fleet,” Harmach Grigor said. “If we surrender our sovereignty for the protection of a larger city, we will never recover it. I consider that the last alternative.”

Rhovann willed Marstel to silence. He’d intended to catch the harmach in exactly this predicament, forcing him to choose between embarking on an expensive and most likely impractical scheme of fleet-building or weakening his authority by begging for another city’s help. Either way the harmach opened himself to sharp criticism. The disguised elf leaned forward to speak. “In that case, my lord harmach, I must add my concerns to Lord Marstel’s. What do you intend to do?”

Grigor Hulmaster gazed at the squares of blue sky outside the great hall’s tall windows. He might have been old and frail, but he was not stupid; he could see the dilemma confronting him. “It must be a fleet, then,” he finally said. “We’ll purchase a couple of suitable hulls in Hillsfar or Melvaunt and bring them back to Hulburg for fitting out. For the crew, I suppose we’ll have to hire mercenaries.”

“Two ships may not be enough to protect our sea trade,” Kara said. “Even if you assume that each can remain at sea half the time, it’s only one ship on patrol on any given day.”

“No, I expect it is not enough, Kara. But I hope that two warships are sufficient to serve as a deterrenr,” Grigor said. He looked around at the assembled council members. “I hope you all understand that the Tower must find funds for this somewhere. To begin with, I expect that rents must be raised on mining and logging concessions.”

“Proceed with care, my lord harmach,” Marstel warned. “It doesn’t matter to the Houses of the Merchant Council if they’re ruined by piracy or taxation. Ruin is ruin.”

“You demand the harmach’s protection for your shipping, but you balk at paying for the forces necessary to safeguard you?” Kara snapped. “You can’t have it both ways, Lord Marstel. Where else should the harmach obtain the funds to pay for a fleet, if not from the merchant costers that will profit by the protection a fleet offers?”

Rhovann opened his mouth to counter the Shieldsworn captain’s point, but Geran Hulmaster shook his head and turned to address his uncle. “Perhaps there is an alternative to a standing navy,” the swordmage said. “Instead

of building enough warships to defend our sea trade from every possible pirate attack, we should search out the pirates’ lair and destroy them there. A single expedition of one or two ships might do as much to protect our trade in a month as a fleet of four or five ships could in years of patrols.”

“Yes, Lord Geran, but where would you start?” Deren Ilkur asked.

The swordmage shrugged. “Kraken Queen. The Moonsea isn’t that large. She can’t hide for long against a determined search. As for other pirates, we should invest in information. Spread some gold around in ports like Mulmaster or Melvaunt, hire some harbor-watchers, and we’ll know soon enough where our enemies are hiding.”

“We’ll need a ship and crew,” Kara said.

“The Merchant Council’s cargoes are at stake; they can spare some armsmen. And you can spare a few Shieldsworn, Kara. For the rest, I’d wager that we can find plenty of volunteers from the Moonshields.” Geran smiled. “As for the ship, well, House Veruna left Seadrake behind when they chose to relocate their operations to Mulmaster. She’s in need of repairs, but she could be ready to sail within a tenday.”

“You’re willing to command her, Geran?” Harmach Grigor asked.

Geran thought for a moment. “Yes, provided I get the funds I need to repair and crew the ship. I can’t promise that I’ll stop all the attacks, but if we catch a pirate or two, the rest might turn to easier prey.”

The harmach glanced over to Marstel. “Lord Marstel, does the Merchant Council find Geran’s proposal acceptable?”

Rhovann directed the old lord to strike an attitude of thoughtful deliberation while he quickly considered the question. Geran had stumbled upon a course of action that seemed reasonable and certainly did not require the harmach to beg help from another city or levy ruinous taxes against his merchants or his people. That was irksome … but, if Geran’s search proved fruitless, he would be disgraced, and the harmach could be attacked for failing to take effective action. It might be highly useful to allow Geran to chase his own tail around the Moonsea for the next few tendays. In fact, Rhovann could see to it that rumors were deliberately planted in out-of-the-way places just for the purpose of wasting Geran’s time. And he knew something about the pirates threatening Hulburg that Geran did not know. Once he considered the suggestion, it seemed that Geran had unwittingly proposed a scheme that Rhovann would have been hard-pressed to improve upon.

Realizing that Maroth Marstel had been thinking things over just a little too long, Rhovann directed the old lord to reply. “One ship is hardly a fleet, my lord harmach. But we will withhold judgment on the merits of the plan until Geran puts an end to Kraken Queen or we lose another ship to the depredations of those murderous sea wolves.”

Geran frowned, weighing the deadline Marstel had imposed on him. After all, he had no way of knowing how long he had before pirates took another Hulburgan ship. “I’ll do my best, Lord Marstel,” he said.

Deren Ilkur looked around at the assembled councilors. “Is there any other business before the council?” he asked. No one spoke up; the Keeper of Duties took his gavel and rapped it sharply on the table. “Then the Council is adjourned.”

Once again, everyone stood as Harmach Grigor rose and made his way up the stairs leading from the hall. Then half-a-dozen low conversations started as the councilors and their various advisors and assistants began filing from the hall. Rhovann watched Geran stride purposefully to the door, already speaking with Kara Hulmaster. Would it be better to help him along his way or delay him? the elf wondered. Through the Merchant Council and Maroth Marstel, he could speed his enemy’s efforts to outfit his expedition and get him out of Hulburg quickly … or he could throw obstacles in Geran’s path, keeping him mired in the effort to gather armsmen and supplies for a month or more.

If Geran sailed off with a strong detachment of Shieldsworn and Hulburgan loyalists, the harmach’s hand would be sorely weakened. That suggested several possibilities. “The sooner the better, then,” Rhovann murmured to himself.

“Eh? What did you say?” Marstel asked.

“Nothing of import, my lord,” he replied. “I rhink House Marstel should generously support Geran Hulmasters efforts to fit out his expedition. There is not a moment to lose, after all.”

Marstel nodded. “Of course! The pirates must be dealt with firmly and immediately. Delay is intolerable.”

“Just so, my lord.” Rhovann gave Geran one more long look, wondering what the fool would do if he suspected that his old rival from Myth Drannor was standing only twenty feet away, planning the success or failure of his ill-conceived venture. Then he took Marstel by the elbow and guided the Hulburgan noble to his carriage.

16Eleint, The Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)

Two days after the meeting of the Harmach’s Council, Geran spent the morning on the quarterdeck of Seadrake, watching as a crew of carpenters worked to replace the ships mainmast. The old mast had been badly cracked in a spring gale months ago, which was one reason why House Veruna’s sellswords had left Seadrake behind when they sailed away from Hulburg. She’d been stripped of stores, canvas, rigging, and other such things, of course, but that could be remedied easily enough. Replacing a mainmast, on the other hand, was a tedious piece of work. Over the last two days the Hulburgan woodworkers had cut away the cracked mast and built a temporary hoist to raise the new mast—a tall, straight spruce cut in the Galena foothills and seasoned for several years in a pond owned by House Marstel. Several dozen workers sweated and swore at each other as they manhandled the long, creaking lines, carefully lowering the new mast into the socket of the old one.

The clatter of wheels on the cobblestones of the street drew Geran’s attention. He glanced down as an open carriage halted by the gangway leading to Seadrake. A pair of armsmen in the black and sky blue of House Sokol hopped down from the running boards as Nimessa Sokol descended from her seat. She looked splendid in a dress of burgundy velvet embroidered with golden flowers. To Geran’s surprise, an undistinguished dwarf with a bald pate and a forked beard of iron gray climbed down from the carriage after her, dressed in common workman’s garb. Nimessa glanced up and caught him watching her. She gave him a warm smile and started up the gangway with her strange companion at her side. Geran dropped down the steps leading to the main deck and went to meet her at the rail.

“I thought I might find you here,” she said. “May we come aboard?”

“Of course, but mind the work on the mast.” Geran drew her past the working party and led her to a safe corner of the deck. “This is an unexpected pleasure. What .brings you down to Seadrake?”

“I heard that you’re looking for a sailing master,” said Nimessa. “I think I may have found you one. May I present Master Andurth Galehand? Master Galehand, this is Lord Geran Hulmaster.”

Geran offered his hand forearm-to-forearm in the dwarf manner and studied the fellow. Tattoos of dwarven runes spelled out indecipherable words on the dwarfs thick forearms, and like most dwarves, he didn’t spare Geran the strength of his grip. “M’lord,” the dwarf said.

“Master Galehand came to House Sokol this morning looking to sign on with us,” Nimessa said. “I thought you might need a sailing master for Seadrake.”