“Run?” Elaina scoffed. “Together we can take ’em.”
Blu looked down at his sister. “Why?” He sounded incredulous.
“One less navy vessel in the waters will make Da all sorts of happy.” Elaina grinned.
“You’re mad, little sister.” Blu snapped his monoscope shut and started towards his ship. “There’s no loot ta be had here. Ain’t riskin’ my ship or my men for nothin’, an’ neither should you.”
“Together…”
Blu stopped by the rope and turned on his sister, towering over her. “Listen ta me, ya crazy little bitch. There ain’t no together. There ain’t nothin’ here worth getting killed over, so we ain’t stayin’. Now, if you wanna fight those fuckers, go right ahead. I’m headin’ home, an’ I’ll be sure to tell Da ya died tryin’ to make him proud.”
“You’re a rotting coward, Blu,” Elaina spat, but her brother paid her no more attention as he climbed the rope back up to his own ship.
With a growl of rage, Elaina stormed back to the Starry Dawn to find Rovel and Corin waiting for her. Ignoring her drug-addled friend, Elaina pulled Rovel aside.
“Get everyone back on board and cut us loose. We’re runnin’ for home as fast as the wind’ll take us.”
It wasn’t until they were well under way and making good speed that Elaina realised she’d never looked in Captain Tel’touten’s cabin, and she still had no idea what Blu had been looking for.
Chapter 22 - The Phoenix
Keelin looked furtively into his cabin one last time – the same cabin he’d only entered three times in the past ten days – and swung his foot over the side of the ship. He climbed down the rope ladder and into the boat waiting below. His crew weren’t blind, and they’d have to be to not notice that he wasn’t even sleeping in his cabin anymore. He’d been the butt of no end of jokes regarding the woman who had taken over his domain. Worse than the jokes, though, was Smithe’s endless undermining of his authority.
It wasn’t that he was scared of her. It was that the woman was quite clearly crazy. All attempts at conversation between them seemed to end in an argument, even the most mundane, and Keelin always seemed to find himself looking very much the villain. He didn’t like looking like a villain, despite his profession.
“Sure ya wanna do this, Cap’n?” said Bronson as he sat down with the oars. “Got rid of some of them sand monsters thanks ta Cap’n Morrass, but there’s still plenty left hiding. No need for ya ta come ashore.”
“I’m sure.”
A part of him hoped they’d get the little town set up and thriving soon and sooner. That way he could be rid of the woman. Another part of him, deep, deep down, didn’t want her to leave. It was the same part of him that wanted to solve the puzzle that was Aimi.
“You have the ship, Morley,” Keelin shouted up to his first mate before signalling Bronson to start rowing.
Cinto Cena loomed up in front of them, looking much like any other island in the isles. Broad, expansive sandy beaches framed by rocky cliffs with a steady rise that led into a thick jungle of giant trees.
A roar went up, so loud it hurt Keelin’s ears, accompanied by a distinct shaking of both land and trees. Everybody turned to look up at the forest, and many of those standing on the beach began to back away towards the water, instantly forgetting their sand prodding duties. After a few moments the shaking stopped, and the chatter of birds resumed in the forest. The men chosen as taskmasters set about getting their workers back into order, and it was as if the ground-shaking roar had never happened.
“Many deaths,” Bronson said quietly as he pulled on the oars.
Keelin looked at the big man and, for the first time since he’d known him, saw real fear in his eyes.
“But not ours,” Keelin said. “We’ll tame this place, don’t you worry. Drake has a plan. That bastard always has a plan. I doubt it involves any of us dying here.”
Bronson nodded, seeming a little emboldened, and for the first time Keelin realised just how much faith even his own crew had in Drake Morrass. Even more worrying was how much faith Keelin now placed in his fellow captain.
The boat drifted into the shallows, and Keelin leapt out and began to drag it up onto the beach as Bronson stowed the oars. A couple of The Phoenix’s crewmen rushed to help, Smithe among them.
“Captain,” Smithe said, somehow managing to fill the word with scorn, hate, fury, resentment, and challenge. “I see ya’ve decided to brave the beach with the rest of us. Shame we’ve already done most of the dangerous work, aye.”
Keelin glanced towards the stretch of the beach where the sand monsters had been laid out. He counted five of them, and they were monstruous. Each of the beasts was fifteen feet from mouth to tail, with a wingspan almost as long. They were beige nightmares made all of skin, bone, and teeth.
“You have a slack definition of work, Smithe, if you believe that to be most of them. On a beach this size I would expect there to be easily three times that number.” It was a lie, but Keelin was sick of being undermined, and it was about time Smithe found his own authority in question. “So how about you stop flapping that mouth at me, pick up a spear, and go back to combing the damned beach with your team before I have you flogged for insubordination.”
Smithe let go of the boat and squared up to Keelin, proving once again he was the taller man. “You wanna try puttin’ me to the whip, ya damn well better have the stones ta do it yaself, Captain.”
Keelin let go of the boat as well, letting his hands fall on the hilts of his twin cutlasses. “Careful, Smithe, you shouldn’t test me. I honestly think I’d enjoy it.”
Smithe said nothing, but stared at Keelin, almost as if daring his captain to break out the whip – an act which Keelin had never once had to perform.
“Back to work it is then,” Keelin said cheerily. “Off you go, quartermaster.”
Smithe spat into the sand and turned away, storming off to his hunting group. Keelin found Bronson watching him with a strange look on his face.
“He’s got more pull with the crew than you might think, Cap’n,” Bronson said quietly once Smithe was well out of earshot. “Most of us are loyal to ya, but he’s got a fair few folk riled up. Now I ain’t saying he’s like to call a vote anytime soon, but… some of us, him included, were around when you took the ship from Elaina, and it didn’t sit right with ’em all.”
“Got a point, Bronson?” Keelin said a little more tersely than he’d intended.
“Only that Smithe ain’t the type of man ya want as an enemy, Cap’n.”
“Well, I sure as a watery grave don’t want him as a friend.”
At that Bronson sat back in the little boat and shrugged his big shoulders. Keelin decided it was time to take his leave, and moved off towards the little camp that was destined to grow into a town if Drake and the rest of the pirates had their way. A few shacks had already been erected and were being put to a variety of uses ranging from storage to recreation. They were little more than three walls, a roof of sorts, and a sheet of canvas to provide privacy. Judging by the sounds coming out of one such recreational shelter, Keelin could only assume that at least one entrepreneurial whore had survived Sev’relain and was busy charging every pirate she could entice into the tent through their teeth for what was between her legs. There was a hastily painted sign embedded in the sand outside proclaiming the shack was in use, and a queue forming next to said sign. Keelin walked on by quickly, without giving too much thought as to which of his men would likely be needing a consultation with the ship’s doctor before too long.
Further along, there was a fire pit furnished with a large cauldron pinched from the Man of War, in which some sort of stew was bubbling away to itself. Neither the pirates nor the refugees had any idea what sort of wildlife lived on the island, and none were willing to brave the jungle to find out, so there was no fresh meat to be had, only ship’s stores and rations – and neither of those was ever particularly enthralling. Still, the chef from The Phoenix was collaborating with a man from Sev’relain who claimed to be well versed in culinary delights. Keelin had been to Sev’relain more times than he could count, and he was fairly certain he’d never once seen the port offer anything approaching delightful.