“The pirates need a reason to come here,” Morley said. “And pirates put into port in the isles for two reasons – dicks in a whore, and to offload the loot. One look outside, Captan Morrass, and it’s obvious we have two problems. There’s barely enough whores to service a sloop, let alone a couple of ships or more, and there ain’t no one to pay them for their hauls.”
“Reckon your man’s hit on the issues pretty directly there, Stillwater.” Drake smiled. “The town needs a legitimate front, some crook like Loke or Quartermain who can buy the loot from us at a discounted price, seeing how the goods are slightly less than legal, then ship and sell it on to civilised folk in Sarth, the Five Kingdoms, Acanthia, and anywhere else that might want it. Now we sure as a watery Hell can’t do that. Any of us sail into any port bar a free city, and we’ll be swaying from our necks in no time.”
“I can’t see us tempting Quartermain from Fango,” Keelin said. “And Loke probably died back in Sev’relain.”
“Wouldn’t matter even if he hadn’t. A legitimate front needs two things – money and ships not linked to piracy. By this point he would have neither, and would therefore be little to no use to anyone.”
Keelin took another deep swig of the peach brandy and sighed. “What do you suggest, Drake?”
Drake held up his hands. “We set someone up as a front and bankroll them.”
“Cap’n…” Princess started, but was interrupted by Morley.
“The crew will never agree to that.”
“It ain’t their money,” Keelin growled.
“Cap’n…” Princess started again.
“It ain’t fucking yours either, Captan,” Morley all but shouted. “Ship’s money is there to pay for repairs and to give advances to the crew in times of hardship, just like right now.”
Drake grinned. “Need a lesson in controlling ya crew, Stillwater?”
Keelin ground his teeth and glared at his fellow captain before rounding on Morley. “Ship’s money is to be used at the captain’s discretion for matters pertinent and the good of the crew.”
“And how is this good for the crew, Captan?”
“Cap’n…” Princess tried once more.
“Because I fucking say it’s good for the crew,” Keelin shouted. “We need a place to port, Morley. And we can’t exactly keep going back to Fango unless you want Tanner to use your hide as a rug.”
“Ship don’t have enough money, Cap’n,” Princess shouted.
“Eh?” Drake grunted, his cup stopped halfway to his mouth, the amused smile gone.
“I spoke to Byron earlier, Cap’n. Ship’s coffers are running low, real low.”
“How low?”
“Empty low.”
Drake fell silent, his eyes fixed and far away.
“How low are ours, Morley?” Keelin said.
“Low enough to be a worry, not so low as to inspire mutiny, Captan.” There was an extra edge to the way Morley spoke the title, and not for the first time Keelin wished Yanic had survived Sev’relain. He still hadn’t even said a proper goodbye to the man, because proper goodbyes required a dangerous amount of rum and at least a day to recover.
“Reckon the whores are the richest folk on the island at the moment,” Morley continued. “With no pimp and Drake’s protection, the few girls that are working are earning double the going rate and keeping all of it.”
“I knew that ‘no raping a whore’ shit was gonna bite us on the arse, Cap’n,” Princess said with a deep frown. “Girls don’t need a pimp, so they ain’t gonna have one.”
Still Drake said nothing, his expression blank.
Princess turned to Keelin. “What about that rifleman of yours? He go for the governor gig?”
Keelin laughed. “He refuses to leave The Phoenix on the grounds that he believes himself to be immortal and thinks I might be able to convince a god to kill him.” He expected shocked silence, but instead Princess nodded and shrugged.
“The immortal ones are always arrogant bastards,” Drake’s first mate said. “There was that one we picked up off Truridge, Cap’n, you remember. Righteous shit told us we were all mere drops in the ocean compared to him, and he was the lord high ruler of some kingdom don’t exist no more.”
“The Forgotten Empire?” Keelin was suddenly curious.
“Nah, though reckon he’d said he’d been there…” Princess drifted off, his face creased in concentration. “Fucking awful place. Anyway, Cap’n put his immortality to the test, and to be fair to the poor bastard, he wasn’t lying. Took enough to kill ten men ten times over and lived through it. So we dropped him off somewhere in the deep ocean and let nature deal with him. Drop in the ocean.” Princess chuckled.
“We’re gonna need warehouses and credit notes,” Drake said quietly, and Keelin looked over to find a determined expression on the captain’s face.
“Warehouses we can do, Cap’n,” said Princess. “But credit notes? Here on the isles? Nobody’ll trust ’em.”
Drake shook his head. “They will if they have my name on them. We need to leave as soon as possible, Princess. The quicker we get the money and the ships to set up the legitimate front, the quicker we can make this all work.”
“You’re leaving?” Keelin said.
Drake nodded. “Unless you can provide, say, ten seaworthy legal vessels with no history of piracy, and enough bits to pay everyone involved on salary until this little venture becomes self-sustaining.”
Keelin nodded back. “Leaving it is, then.”
“I need you to stay here, Stillwater.”
“Here as in New Sev’relain? Indefinitely?” The very last thing Keelin wanted was to be left floating at port for an extended spell.
“Here and about,” Drake conceded. “I need someone to look after the town, protect it while it gets on its feet. Beat down any dissidents and keep the townsfolk in line. I need someone I can trust.” He paused, then stood and made his way over to a nearby cabinet. “And I need someone to warn the others.” Drake opened the cabinet and riffled through its contents before pulling out a roll of vellum that was unmistakably a sea chart. Keelin felt hope spring to life once again in his chest. Now he knew where Drake kept his charts, he was one step closer to finding the one he needed, and that meant he was one step closer to taking his revenge on Arbiter Prin. Unfortunately, there were still a lot of steps left to take.
Drake tossed the roll of vellum to Keelin before sitting back down behind his desk. It was too much to hope the man had just given Keelin the chart he so desperately desired, but he dared to hope anyway. Keelin unrolled the vellum.
“It’s the Pirate Isles,” he said uncertainly.
“It’s the chart I took from the Man of War,” Drake said. “They didn’t just know where to find Black Sands and Sev’relain. They know about Utringdon, Fair View, Rockwater, Lillingburn. Every colony, town, and outpost in the Pirate Isles except two.”
Keelin searched the chart, and it didn’t take long for him to see what was missing. “Fango.”
“Your friend, Tanner Black, appears to have been making some nasty friends, Stillwater.”
Keelin looked back at Morley, who seemed as shocked as his captain. “Tanner would never… He’s an evil bastard and no mistake, but he hates Sarth, hates all the kingdoms. As far as he’s concerned, the only kingdom that matters a damn is his own.”
Drake raised an eyebrow. “And what would be a better way to get rid of all the competition in the isles to make that little dream a reality?”
Keelin shook his head. It simply wasn’t possible that Tanner Black would sell out his fellow pirates. “Quartermain, maybe?”
“Maybe. Either way, the others need to know their towns ain’t safe. Sarth sent one ship, they’ll send more. New Sev’relain, on the other hand… Well, now that ain’t on the map either, is it?”