Dragon Choir (21 page)

They’d freed
the slaves only to imprison themselves.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

King
Kobb

The ships
rolled with the swell, congregating on the ocean like seaweed.
Gulls flocked, pecking and squabbling over the floating dead. The
sunken galleon delivered a fine feast for the creatures of the sea.
High above, the sun peaked noon, drying Elrin’s skin salty and hot
while he waited. The fresh breeze was a comfort, cooling his anger
as he stewed on the quarterdeck, wondering if he would ever find
the Dragon Choir, or his father.

The bright
glaring day was thick with an air of quiet tension. The rebels had
given a reluctant surrender and Delik’s order to cooperate with
Kobb’s men didn’t sit easy with them. Hurn had raged, knocking four
men overboard. Amber was the only one who could calm him. She sat
beside the ogre, a pebble beside a mountain, soothing him with a
calm wordless melody.

Minni’s hair
had dried in the heat, curling in a tangled, beautiful mess. She
brushed a recalcitrant ringlet from her eye and tucked it behind
her ear. It obeyed for a while, then sprung back. The wind made it
dance about while she stared across the sea, her brows knitted and
lips tight.

Was she upset,
or perhaps just lost in a pensive mood? More likely she was
plotting an escape, but Elrin could only guess. A woman’s thoughts
had ever been a mystery to the young man, though he had never cared
to wonder what they were until Minni came along. She caught him
watching and her face relaxed, dark eyes enquiring. Elrin didn’t
know what to say and she didn’t speak, just smiled. The cut on her
neck bothered him, making him angry. He wanted to punch one of
Kobb’s men in the mouth, he didn’t care which, any would do.

Rough hands
dragged Elrin to his feet. Thoughts of revenge withered as the
tattooed man came up to the quarterdeck, two hooked blades slung on
his hips. He was built solid like a barbican and dressed in loose
cotton for the heat. A comb carved of bone held his thick black
hair, gathered into a topknot.

“
Kobb would like to thank you in person for getting here so
soon.” The tattooed man spoke Jandan with an accent foreign to
Elrin. His face was impassive, one half covered in an intricate
embroider of ink. His conversational tone was hollow, empty of the
smile it required. “Follow me, the captain’s gig is
waiting.”

“
Where’s Tikis?” asked Minni.

“
The gig is waiting,” repeated the tattooed man.

“
Kobb’s had us waiting on our arses for more than a twist,”
said Delik. “He can bloody well hold his horses while you answer
the question!”

The tattoos
rippled on his face, his eyes clouded black. “The drakkin chief is
safe. He awaits Kobb’s reception.” His eyes cleared. “You waste
time.”

“
Ash on that! You could’ve picked us out of the water to start
with.”

The tattooed
man ignored Delik’s protest and led them to the main deck, ordering
them to descend a rope ladder into a large boat with oarsmen at the
ready. Hurn shinned down a thick mooring line, lest he break the
ladder, and took a place in the centre of the boat, which dipped
low in the water and quivered as he adjusted his weight. Amber
chimed her song to calm Hurn’s nerves, making a ringing melody that
baffled Elrin. He watched her mouth, the incongruous movement of
her lips dancing before the tune. It had to be magic, it made no
sense.

The oars
plunged into the sea and stroked in time to Amber’s tune. Elrin
closed his eyes and listened to her song, remembering his mother’s
voice, like honey on silver, lulling him to sleep when he was a
child. He wondered if she was standing by the shutters as she
always did, staring down Flint Street to the Cog and Wheel, waiting
for Father. A wave broke over the gunwale, sloshing cold water
across Elrin’s lap and rousing him from his daydream.

“
Why’s the bloody Ogre have to come along?” whined
Delik.

Hurn shifted,
tilting the boat to snort at Delik.

“
He is of value to Kobb,” said the tattooed man. “Kobb has
requested him and that is enough.”

Hurn sneezed,
rocking the boat again. Delik huffed to himself and stifled any
further objections.

The oarsmen cut their way through the swell to Kobb’s
ship;
Bone Dancer
. It was the largest of the pirate’s ships, bristling with
cannons, colourful and ungainly. The ship’s high forecastle and
poop deck stood proud, rounding down to her trim waist, while her
sails were an outlandish spectacle of colour;
Bone Dancer
was a giant floating
peacock.

***

Once aboard
Bone
Dancer
, they were escorted to the
captain’s quarters. It was a large room adorned in finery.
Silverware rested on a central dining table with platters of fruit,
biscuits and cut meats. A great bed, draped in red velvet curtains,
indulged the far corner in luxury. Beside it stood a tall mirror.
Decadent paintings of barely dressed men and women hung in golden
frames.

Tikis was
already seated at the long table. Opposite him was Commodore
Pelegrin, healed, but foul faced by their presence. The bearded
redeemer sneered at them and oiled a predatory smile for Amber. She
tucked herself behind Hurn out of her master’s view.

“
He’ll not harm you here,” Minni placed her hands on the
fearful girl’s shoulders and straightened them out of their slump.
“Not with all of us to protect you.”

Tikis was
uncomfortable. What was worse for the drakkin; sitting on a chair
or sitting down with his enemies? Kobb hadn’t thought through the
seating arrangements. Or, perhaps he had. Perhaps it amused him to
have a drakkin sit at the edge of his seat, so his tail wouldn’t
kink. Either way, Elrin wondered how long the meal would last
before someone was stabbed with the silver.

Behind each
chair a man stood guard. Tattoos covered their muscular bodies like
the ones on the companions’ escort, but their faces were bare. The
guard beside Tikis offered Minni her seat first, though Minni
ignored the suggested chair, sauntering her way around the table to
take the one beside the redeemer. Two of the guards grabbed her and
guided her back to sit where she was first invited. Elrin was
ushered beside the redeemer while Amber sat between Minni and
Delik. Hurn was invited to sit last, on a chair beside Elrin. The
ogre stooped over his seat scratching his chin, then pushed the
seat aside and dropped his weight onto the floor, bumping the table
as he bent his broad legs to kneel. He gave Elrin a gentle nudge,
grinning at the food spread out on the table. Elrin’s stomach
growled in agreement.

Only one seat
remained at the head of the table, carved of tooth and bone. The
scrimshaw elaborated intricate swirling patterns, like the ink on
the men who stood guard. The tattoo-faced man gave a curt nod and
his warriors straightened to attention, ready for the pirate
leader’s grand entrance.

Elrin expected
Kobb to be an imposing battle-hardened buccaneer, but the
manicured, well-cut pirate who gambolled through the door was far
from it. He was a diminutive shankakin, shorter than Delik and
wearing a glaring clash of bright silks, puffing him out with
frills like feathers. Leather boots with thick heels and polished
buckles gave just enough extra height to make him seem at once vain
and unstable. Elrin had never seen a shankakin cover their feet;
Kleith had taught him it severed their connection with Ona, their
favoured Goddess.

Kobb’s sword
swayed as he swaggered to his seat, the jewelled pommel and
filigree basket guard catching the light, shining like his toothy
grin. A tight leather vest girdled his round belly, accentuating
the flamboyance of the silken sleeves that burst out in colourful
ruffles. Both vest and blouse plunged with a low neck, revealing
Kobb’s thick black, tightly curled chest hair. Something moved on
his shoulder. At first glance Elrin missed it, his eyes diverted by
the pirate’s attire. Then it moved again, something wriggling in
the ruffles of Kobb’s garish blouse, lurking over his neck and
shoulders.

“
Please remain seated!” Kobb announced. “Don’t get up on my
account.”

Minni rolled
her eyes; no one had made any effort to stand in the first
place.

With the
utmost dignity, Kobb took his seat at the head of the table. The
creature he carried on his shoulder spread its wings and fluttered
onto a golden perch hanging from the ceiling. It was a tiny dragon,
the size of a parrot and skinny like a skink. In every way it
appeared just like the dragons Elrin had read about, just like the
shadows that flew over Calimska when the season began, but
smaller—much smaller. Its long tail wrapped around the gilded perch
and ended in a barbed stinger. It preened, chittering to
itself.

“
So I trust you all know each other by now, hmm?” Kobb leant
back and delivered a cheerful smile to his guests. For good or ill,
Elrin had met everyone, but certainly didn’t know them. Before he
had time to consider asking, Kobb swung into his speech.

“
I’d like to welcome you all to stay as my honoured guests
this evening. I’m sure it has been some time since you all had a
good meal.” The pirate swept his arms wide showing the feast before
them. “Others, such as my good man Fjhor, eat with me every night.
He even eats before I do!” Kobb paused for a moment scanning the
room, hoping someone found his joke amusing. After a brief moment
of awkward silence, their host continued with the speech
unperturbed by his humourless guests. “Many thanks to these two
fine Jandans; well, one fine Jandan and a Calimskan outcast. Sorry
Brother Uighara, you won’t live that down I’m afraid—redemption or
not, infamy is a sticky business. Now, where was I ...” Kobb
squinted at a sheet of paper on the table. “Ah yes, my thanks to
you both for taking the time to drag yourselves away from the
conference below decks. How are the troops, Commodore? Morale must
be high now that you’ve all got the day off.” Kobb searched their
faces with an eager grin, desperate for a laugh. He flung his hands
up, exasperated by the silence.

“
Enough of your pompous prancing about, grub!” Pelegrin stood
up and snatched the carving knife from the meat platter. The guard
behind had Pelegrin’s hair in a fist and a dagger at his throat
before he moved to attack anyone. The Commodore stilled himself and
dropped the knife. Though his arm had been healed, his reflexes
were no match for the mercenary behind him. Pelegrin was forced
back into his chair before the mercenary’s blade was removed from
his throat.

“
Manners please, Commodore!” Kobb feigned shock, rising from
his chair, his cheeks quivering. Kobb leant over, reaching across
to the finely polished dinner setting in front of Pelegrin. He
lifted the knife from the outside of the set and held it in front
of the man’s eye.

“
You should know better, Pelegrin,” Kobb winked to the others.
“This one is for your appetiser.”

Even though
Kobb’s dramatics put him on edge, Elrin couldn’t resist a smirk.
Hurn slapped his hand on the deck and rumbled. The outburst gave
everyone a fright until they realised Hurn was only chuckling.
Amber burst into giggles, then Kobb laughed, clapping his
hands.

“
Wonderful, wonderful. Let’s start shall we? Fjhor, bring in
the first course.”

The
tattoo-faced warrior walked across the room to let in a line of
servants, each displaying the etiquette of domestic help entrusted
to wait on elite families in their great houses. One carried a
large pot, steaming its way to the side table. With poise and
grace, bowls of fragrant soup were ladled and placed in front of
everyone.

“
Don’t worry, Commodore,” said Kobb. “You won’t need that
knife just yet.”

A servant
followed the soup service with a pitcher, filling their silver
goblets with wine. Pelegrin downed his and held his goblet up for
more, sneering at Kobb. Kobb was served last before the servants
retreated out the door. Fjhor walked to Kobb’s side and sampled his
soup and wine. He swished each taste around in his mouth then
nodded to the pirate, taking a step back to stand guard.

“
Please, enjoy,” said Kobb.

Elrin took his
spoon from the outside and sipped the broth. It was delicious; the
sweet spiced seafood with pepper and lime sent his taste buds in a
whirl. He hadn’t had such fine food since he was a boy; not since
his mother was the Pride of the Bard’s Guild, waited on by
servants. Hurn lifted the bowl to his mouth and slurped his soup
down in one great gulp. The ogre must have found utensils rather
foolish. Elrin wouldn’t hurry his; every spoonful was a
delight.

Tikis also
refused to use a spoon, using his long tongue to lap at the liquid
instead. After a few flicks of his tongue his scaled snout wrinkled
in distaste. Pushing the bowl to the side, the drakkin reached for
his goblet and emptied the wine into his maw, closing his eyes in
pleasure. With a satisfied clicking sound from his throat, he
opened his eyes to catch Elrin and Hurn staring. The warrior darted
his tongue out at them, tasting the air.

“
Why this ogre not scared?” asked Tikis. “These whips and
chains so easy to forget?”

Hurn narrowed
his ice blue eyes and snorted. “Hurn Ga Kogh does not forget. Free
is not free. Chained is not chained.”