Storm of Sharks (15 page)

Read Storm of Sharks Online

Authors: Curtis Jobling

‘Sorry about that. I had to speak to
some of the other lads first. They’ve put a lot of faith in me. Was amazed to find
you still here when I got back, to be honest. Hated to think what Gregor might’ve
done.’

‘You don’t like him?’

‘I don’t mind him. He’s
only looking after his own. He doesn’t trust me.’

The boy’s relationship with the others
sounded complicated, but there was only one thing Drew wanted to know right now.

‘Where’s Vega,
Casper?’

‘Taken alive by Ghul, along with many
other pirates from the Cluster Isles who opposed him.’

‘What happened to the
Maelstrom
and her crew?’

‘Got took from the captain, didn’t
it? We were heading north, around the cape of Tuskun toward Sturmland. The captain and
Duke Manfred were set on visiting Icegarden. Only someone had different
ideas – tried to do away with my master and threw him overboard. I followed
him over the side. Neither of us saw the
Maelstrom
again. I’d die for
that man,’ added the lad, with utter sincerity.

‘Who tried to kill Vega?’

‘Your pal, the Boarlord. Shivved him
with his fancy dagger while his men threw a sack of cannon shot around the
captain’s neck and tossed him into the sea.’

Drew shook his head, unwilling to believe
it. ‘Hector wouldn’t do that. I know him. He’s a good man: he’s
no killer.’

‘Saw it with my own eyes,’ said
Casper quietly. ‘With respect, don’t question what I witnessed, my lord. Not
after what Blackhand did to my captain. If Count Vega were still here with us he’d
tell you as much himself.’

Drew grimaced, the bile rising in his
throat. There was that name again:
Blackhand.
The wicked magister, who now
ruled Icegarden.

‘This ain’t news to your ears,
is it?’ asked the perceptive boy. ‘You’ve heard other bad things about
your Baron Hector, ain’t you?’

‘Things I wish I hadn’t,’
replied Drew, forcing back his misery. He couldn’t believe that Hector had
actively sought to take Vega’s life. There had to be another explanation for this
and the events in Icegarden.

He took a lungful of air, trying to clear
his head of his friend’s betrayal.

‘Just when you think you know someone
–’ started Casper.

Drew broke in. ‘So how did you and
Vega escape a watery grave?’

‘I dived in, tore the sack from about
the captain’s throat and kicked up to the surface. Found myself adrift with him,
didn’t I? Well, I’ve always been a strong swimmer – reckoned I got
that off my old man, so the captain said. So I put my back into it, keeping him afloat
until he came round. We’re lucky he’s a Sharklord and that the knife
wasn’t silver – the captain woke up enough to swim a bit too, if you can
call it that, but between us we had a good idea which direction land was. Got picked up
by a fur trader’s wee ship, off the Tuskun coast. From there we eventually made it
back to Moga.’

‘That’s quite the tale of
survival. Vega owes you his life. So what happened then?’

‘Captain and I went to war beside
Baron Bosa,’ Casper said proudly. ‘Took the battle straight to the enemy.
Lion, Squid and all ships that flew the Black Flag of Bast – they were scared
witless by the Whale’s attacks. For a good time we had ’em on the run. That
was before they started with the kidnappings: taking folk from their homes, loved ones
and the like. Didn’t take long for sailors to start turning themselves over to
Ghul, whole shiploads of pirates switching sides for fear of what the Kraken might do to
their families.’

‘So your fleet shrank?’

‘Family’s a powerful
thing.’

‘You’re not wrong. How did you
end up here?’

‘We were working aboard the
Beggar’s Bride
, Captain Mesner’s ship, with the count serving
as first mate. Mesner
had a reputation on the White Sea before this
war even kicked off. Big man, full of bluster and bravado. He and Bosa went way
back.’

‘A good man, then?’

‘Once, perhaps. Last thing the count
said to me was that Mesner was behind the ambush. We were way west of Hook Island,
moored up, keeping watch over the Clusters for Bosa. There should’ve been nothing
at our backs but open water. Instead two of Ghul’s ships took us by surprise.
Mesner must have tipped off the Kraken. He had no family; reckon it was gold that turned
him. In any case, I managed to escape in a rowboat during the melee. That was three
weeks ago. I’ve been here ever since.’

‘What have you been doing in that
time?’

‘Trying to get this lot to fight back,
to begin with. We may be smaller than Hackett and his men, but we outnumber them ten to
one. We could defeat them if we pulled together.’

‘And where’s Vega
now?’

‘Me and a couple of other lads took a
fishing skiff the other day, followed the rumours out to sea. Found what we feared the
other night.’

The boy was quiet for a moment as he
composed himself. ‘Lord Ghul’s built a sea fortress, right at the heart of
the Cluster Isles’ crescent. That’s where he’s taken my captain, and
no doubt the others too.’

‘A sea fortress? But what island could
he build it on, in the middle of the bay?’

‘That’s just it. There
ain’t no land out there. It’s a tower in the sea.’

Drew was confused by the boy’s
description. ‘I don’t understand how he could’ve built a tower without
land, Casper.’

‘Nor do I, but I saw it well enough
myself.’

‘Are you sure? You said yourself it
was at night.’

‘Ain’t nobody on the White Sea
got eyes as keen as mine, Lord Drew. I wasn’t lookout for no reason. That’s
why the captain kept me close: Count Vega always said I was his best
investment.’

‘How close did you get to the
fortress?’

‘Not very; sea was full of ships
around it. If we’d tried to get nearer they’d have sent us to the bottom
–’

‘Did anyone see you come here?’
Drew asked, interrupting him.

‘If I don’t want to be seen, I
don’t get seen. The camp was empty, anyway. Children were all at work, at the
docks, on the boats and in the fields. There weren’t even any guards when I came
through.’

‘Well, there are now,’ said
Drew. ‘Someone’s out there.’

They could both hear the footsteps now,
attempts at stealth betrayed by the squelching of mud. Drew dropped his head, allowing
the wolf in enough to heighten his senses. There were multiple figures approaching from
different directions, all closing on the hut. He could smell sweat and metal, alcohol
and tobacco.

‘Stay put,’ whispered
Casper.

Drew heard the boy stand and snatched out at
him, catching his ankle.

‘Are you crazy?’ he growled, the
beast barely restrained. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I’ll draw them away. They
can’t
find you, my lord,’ he said, ripping his leg free from
Drew’s grip.

Then he was gone, the door slamming shut as
he made a break from the hut. Bursts of obscenities were followed by the shouts of the
guards as they gave chase. Then came a sound that made Drew’s heart stutter in his
chest: the wail of a boy. The guards had caught Casper.

Casper ripped a chunk of flesh from the
forearm that held him tight and spat it into the mud. His hand burst free from the
panicked guard’s grasp and he raked his fingers down the man’s face, ripping
red furrows into his cheek. Another soldier jumped forward as his comrade struggled with
the enraged boy, blood pumping from his maimed arm.

‘You little –’

The flat of the guard’s hand struck
Casper’s face hard, sending his head ricocheting into the wounded officer’s
jaw. The soldier released his grip as the two collapsed into the mire. Casper rolled on
to his back, blinking and seeing stars as the men stood over him.

‘I thought you said he wouldn’t
put up a fight, boy,’ said a third guard, calling to a figure behind him. Casper
tried to focus as a boy emerged from the huts at their backs.

‘He’s supposed to be
blind,’ replied Kit nervously. Casper’s heart sank at the boy’s
betrayal.

‘Then what do you call this?’
screeched the soldier, clutching his torn limb with trembling fingers. ‘He’s
an animal, blind or not!’

‘He’s wild is what he is,’
snarled the third man as Kit walked
closer. ‘We should kill him
here. No point dragging him back to Hackett only for him to cause more trouble. Who
knows what else he might do, given half the chance.’

‘Hang on,’ said Kit warily.
‘That ain’t him.’

‘Aye,’ said the officer who had
struck Casper. ‘You said the stranger had one hand. This one’s got
two!’

‘Then who’s this?’ asked
the wounded soldier, giving the boy a kick. Casper whimpered as the boot hit his ribs,
causing him to double up in the mud.

‘That’s Skipper,’ said the
nervous boy, peering around the guards, unable to look Casper in the eye.

‘You’ve betrayed us all,
Kit!’ gasped Casper.

‘By giving the stranger over to
’em? This buys me and mine favour with Lord Hackett!’

‘You’ve put yourself and your
family in danger,’ cried Casper. ‘You can’t trust them! Run,
Kit!’

‘There’ll be no running,’
said the sergeant.

‘More importantly,’ said the
third guard, ‘where’s the lad with one hand?’

There was a blur of movement as a dark shape
shot from the shadows between the nearby huts, catching the sergeant as it leapt by. The
man was gone, dragged off between the ramshackle buildings before his companions had
time to react.

‘Sweet Sosha!’ squealed the
wounded guard. ‘What was that?’

‘Sarge!’ called the other man,
nervously weighing his sword in his hand. ‘You there, Sarge?’

‘This ain’t right,’ said
the first guard, stepping over the
concussed Casper, cradling his arm
against his belly. ‘Sarge said we were to just grab the lad in that hut and take
him to Hackett. You set us up!’ he said, rounding on Kit with an enraged snarl.
His good arm came up and down in a sharp, savage motion, and the boy fell to the mud.
‘You promised us there was someone sheltering here, someone the Crab would want.
It was a trap all along!’

The wounded guard kicked out at Kit but the
boy didn’t respond, lying unmoving on the ground. ‘Well? Answer
me!’

‘Leave him be, Colm,’ said the
other man, his eyes flitting between the filthy huts, searching for their enemy.
‘So there’s two of ’em. They’re just kids.’

Of the sergeant, there was no sight, no
sound. The guard reached down and grabbed Casper by the hair, dragging him to his knees
before him. He raised his sword and placed the tip against Casper’s spine, poised
to thrust down.

‘You see this?’ he shouted.
‘I don’t know who you are, boy, but we can make this easy. You give us the
sarge, we give you your little mate back. And we walk away, right?’ As he turned
back to the shadows, there was a resounding
clang
as a blood-smeared helmet
flew through the air, striking his own armoured head. The impact was enough to send him
staggering back, the sword point wavering from where it hovered over Casper’s
neck.

The Werewolf bounded forward, leaping over
the kneeling boy and hitting the guard in the chest. The two went down, the sword
tumbling to the mud as the man tried to defend himself. The lycanthrope’s head
loomed over his, lips peeled back to reveal teeth as thick as spear shafts. The
beast’s head
turned in Casper’s direction as the man
screamed, fumbling for his weapon belt.

‘Defend yourself,’ Drew growled,
as the boy struggled to his feet.

A stabbing pain rocketed through
Drew’s abdomen, cold steel scoring his stomach.

The guard looked down the lengths of their
bodies to where his hand clutched the bloody dagger. He brought his gaze back to the
Werewolf’s, the beast’s pale yellow eyes staring through him. The
man’s cry of horror was cut short as the Wolflord’s jaws snapped at his
face.

Casper felt the first guard catch him by the
shoulders, yanking him from his feet. The man swung the boy high like a rag doll before
sending him crashing into the ground. The soldier reached down to pick up the sword that
lay in the mud, but Casper was one step ahead, lashing out with a kick and catching the
man’s torn forearm. The guard bellowed, instantly retracting his wounded arm as
Casper grabbed the weapon.

Stumbling clear, the guard’s eyes flew
to the Werewolf that now crawled off the body of his dead companion. Then he turned from
the growling beast to the crouching boy with the blade in his hands. He backed up
against one of the huts, nowhere to run, his arm bleeding profusely. Dropping to his
knees in the filth, he stared warily at his enemies. The boy rose, lifting the heavy
blade in both hands, the tip wavering before the sole surviving guard.

Casper glanced at the Werewolf as the beast
paced between the buildings, twisting his head and sniffing the air. Blind
though Drew was, there were other ways for him to find and strike his
enemies. The lycanthrope snorted as he found the guard’s scent, suddenly
crouching, poised to pounce at any moment. Casper looked down to where Kit lay
motionless in the mud. The boy’s eyes were closed, his pale face turned to one
side, half submerged in a puddle. Even from a distance, Casper could see he was
dead.

‘What … what is that?’
said the injured guard, staring at Drew. ‘Is that the
Wolf
?’ he
asked, never taking his eyes from the beast.

Casper stepped forward, the weapon heavy in
his hands, but he held firm. The guard’s throat bobbed, his eyes wide, torn
between the boy and the Wolf.

‘You killed Kit. You’re a
murderer.’

‘I’m a soldier, boy,’
gasped the man. ‘Put the sword down before you do something stupid. Perhaps
Hackett might spare you –’

‘He was a child, and you killed
him.’

‘What
is
that monster?’
the guard cried, ignoring the boy’s accusation.

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