“Some of my boys want to go after the fuckers, mate,” Tanner growled, waving away his ship’s doctor, who seemed intent on bandaging his captain’s leg.
“Best not,” Drake said with a shake of his head. “You think your forest is dangerous? Stragglers on Cinto Cena don’t last long, Tanner. Besides, we’ve got plenty of work to do here. Folk need looking to. You should let your man see to that wound.”
“It’s a scratch,” Tanner said.
“Scratches can kill a man just as easily as a good stabbing if the wound ain’t looked after.” Tanner looked exhausted, and it was no surprise given how much of the battle he’d taken part in. Drake wagered if he could just get the man to sit down, he’d be free of him for a good few hours, and in those hours Drake could claim much of the glory. “Sit down and get that bandaged, Tanner. We need you. Can’t have you falling foul of an infection.”
Tanner growled again, but relented and let the doctor lead him away. Drake would have grinned, but he needed to keep the pained expression plastered to his face. He needed the townsfolk to see him as tired as they were and sympathetic to the losses.
“Anyone seen Stillwater?” he shouted.
“Aye,” said a big pirate with plenty of tattoos. “He was in the tavern, fighting his brother.”
“His brother?” Drake hated appearing to others as though he were in the dark, but at this point he well and truly was.
The pirate nodded. “Aye. Stillwater is brother to that Sword of the North.”
That name attracted a good few folk, and Drake was less than surprised. He’d met the Sword of the North once, and the man had been terrifying. Drake had never met anyone so sure of their own ability to murder everyone around them. He’d also seen a Blademaster in action once, and though it hadn’t been the Sword of the North, she’d been like death given form. They moved in a deadly dance, and there seemed to be very little that could stand in their way.
“Anyone carrying a shield or a bow with me, now,” Drake roared, pleased to see pirates and townsfolk alike jumping to his command. “Everyone else keep helping with the wounded.” As he stormed off towards the Righteous Indignation, he was happy to have a good twenty pirates backing him up and less than happy that he was at the front of them. If the Sword of the North was in a killing mood then it was likely that Drake would die first, and there would be little that could stop the Blademaster.
Not wanting to appear hesitant, Drake pushed open the door to the tavern and strode inside, fancying that he cut a real heroic figure. As pirates and townsfolk crammed in behind Drake, it became clear that the Sword of the North had done his damage and left. Tables, chairs, and three bodies were littering the floor, and none of the latter looked to be moving.
Drake took another step into the room. The two bodies furthest away were Five Kingdoms soldiers. The third body was wearing one of the fine blue jackets that Stillwater liked so much, only it was stained with an awful lot of red.
“Check if he’s alive,” Drake said, pointing to Stillwater’s body. He wasn’t about to let his own guard down until he knew the Sword of the North was well and truly gone.
Even inside the tavern and with the noise of twenty people around him, Drake could still hear the screams of the dying outside. It was more than a little unnerving. The tavern was a mess that they’d need to clean up soon. Pirates needed a place to drink, especially after the hell they’d all just been through.
“Get these bodies out of here,” he said, turning away from the soldiers’ corpses.
Tanner came limping into the tavern, followed by his squat-faced first mate and his ship’s doctor, who still hadn’t managed to get the big pirate to stop long enough to bandage his leg.
“He’s alive,” called the woman tending to Stillwater. “Looks pretty badly messed up though.”
If the Sword of the North really was Stillwater’s brother, there appeared to be little love between them – just enough to leave the captain alive.
“Get away from me, ya fussing shrew of a man.” Tanner pushed his doctor away. “Yer old friend Stillwater needs ya fuckin’ poking an’ proddin’ more than I.”
The healer shot Tanner a baleful look, then turned away and knelt next to Stillwater. Drake seethed; he wanted Tanner gone. Unfortunately, now the man was here there was little he could do.
The Oracle had been clear, and insistent. Keelin Stillwater was integral to the creation of Drake’s empire, and Drake had never known his brother to be wrong. Hironous Vance had the sight, the ability to see into people’s futures, and together with Drake’s own gift of manipulation they’d used it to plan the birth of the pirate empire. Drake hated relying on anyone but himself to accomplish his goals, but he needed Stillwater alive.
“Well, doc?” Drake said. “Can you save him?”
The doctor mumbled something under his breath.
“Why are we saving him?” said the big pirate with the tattoos.
“Eh?” Drake turned to the man, who, despite his size, took a quick step backwards.
“He ain’t one of us,” said the pirate. “He’s one of them. I heard him and the Sword of the North talking. They’re brothers. That makes Stillwater Five Kingdoms, one of the fuckers trying to kill us.”
“I heard the Sword ain’t just a knight,” another pirate chimed in. “He’s a noble.”
“Bastard was probably in on it the whole time. He brought ’em here,” continued the tattooed pirate.
The others started murmuring, agreeing that the whole thing was Stillwater’s fault. They were looking for someone to blame for all the death and pain, and the poor unconscious bastard who had helped saved so many of them wasn’t awake to defend himself.
“You reckon he was in on it?” Drake said. “Because of who his brother might be? Seems that same brother left Stillwater skewered with his own sword and bleeding to death right here on the floor of the tavern Stillwater himself helped to build. Hells, the lad didn’t just help to build this place – he helped take down the monstrous ship it was built from.”
A few of those who had been muttering about Stillwater being a traitor all of a sudden found their feet more than a little interesting.
“You reckon he ain’t one of us because he’s from the Five Kingdoms?” Drake said. “Well, then I ain’t one of us either. I’m Acanthian born.”
Drake pointed at a red-haired pirate with a fiery beard. “What about you? Where are you from?”
The man looked a little embarrassed at suddenly being the centre of attention. “Korral.”
“The Wilds then,” Drake said. “Well, that ain’t here, so you ain’t one of us. What about you?” Drake picked a tall woman with hair that looked like it might have been blond had it ever been washed.
“Flinton,” she said.
“Sarth,” Drake cooed. “Weren’t too long ago they were at our doorstep, trying to murder us.”
“I ain’t no traitor,” the woman said quickly, trying desperately to sink back into the crowd.
“What about you, Tanner?” Drake said. “Where are you from?”
Tanner Black held Drake’s gaze for a few moments, probably deciding whether or not to lie. “Larkos.”
Drake smiled. “Another free city, this one in the Dragon Empire.”
Tanner nodded slowly.
“There’s barely a one of us can say we come from the Pirate Isles. We’re an empire of vagrants. Whether you came from nothing or everything, or all that’s in between, we’re all in this together.”