Just as Princess remembered, the tavern on board The Ajax was dark and dirty, and smelled of stale beer and sweat. It was exactly the sort of place that made him feel right at home. Princess had grown up in a tavern just like it, serving drinks, collecting empty mugs, getting beaten for stealing dregs. It all seemed like someone else’s life now it was so long ago. The smells brought it all back and put a wide grin on his face.
Despite whatever had happened aboard the Rest, the tavern was busy. Plenty of drunkards lay about on tables with forgotten drinks resting in their unconscious hands, and even more folk were still awake and still buying booze. In one group sitting around a large table near the bar, Princess counted twelve folk in all, and their conversation seemed lively, if a little one-sided. Princess sauntered over to the bar, ordered himself an ale, and took the opportunity to eavesdrop.
“I hear he’s a devil,” said a man who looked like a sailor by trade and a drunkard by choice. “That’s why they’re after him. Killed more folk than most men have hot meals.”
One of the two women in the group, a tall wench with the tattooed face of a Riverlander, snorted. “Ain’t a devil, jus’ a man. Fuckin’ dangerous one, aye, but a man is all.”
“Can’t be,” said the sailor. “Way I hear it, blooded folk are droppin’ like shits in a privy. Ain’t no way a normal man could do that. Must be enchanted, or some such witchery.”
“Well, my dear men, women, and… I’m afraid I’m not entirely certain of your particular alignment, but nevertheless I shall include you anyway,” slurred a man in well-worn green trousers and a coat to match. “I had the profound pleasure of very recently being located within the Wilds and knowing the man in question by sight.”
“You seen the Black Thorn?” The woman leaned over the table, sloshing a little ale from her mug.
“I did, in fact, seen the Black Thorn,” the man in the suit said with a wave of his mug, spilling some of his own booze onto the table. “Oh, bugger, what a waste. Another round.”
A cheer went up from all the folk gathered around the table except for one, a large man dressed in a white shawl, with a white turban on top of a bronze half-helm. It might have been that the man hadn’t cheered because he wasn’t drinking, but Princess found the fellow’s eyes too disturbing to pay closer attention to him, and looked away.
“So what’s he look like?” the sailor pressed.
“Who?” said the man in the suit.
“The Black Thorn.”
“Oh. Right. Well, he’s a giant, you see. Ugliest monster you’ve ever laid eyes on. Well, except maybe for you. If any of the gods truly exist, they were not kind to you.”
“Fuck you.”
“Have you ever heard the saying ‘a face only a mother could love’? Well, I’m guessing she hasn’t seen yours in a while, eh?”
The group fell silent for a moment.
“What?” the ugly sailor looked like he might have been angry if not for the free booze headed his way.
The man in the suit sighed. “It really doesn’t matter. I sometimes wonder how you pirates are able to tie a rope so well when the simple concept of language so easily escapes you. No matter. So, he’s big and ugly…”
“Who?” asked the sailor.
“The Black Thorn. Please do keep up.”
Princess grinned and sipped his ale. He’d seen the Black Thorn once, when Drake had taken a ship the sellsword had been a passenger on; he couldn’t really claim to have met him though. Thorn was big and ugly, and no mistake, but he wasn’t really a giant. Still, he was plenty scary.
“I heard he sacked Carsington all on his own. Ran that bastard D’roan right out of his own city and left him poorer than… well, us,” said the sailor.
“Well, yes, that’s more or less the way of it. He may have had some three thousand men behind him, but he was certainly the first through the walls, and he cut a very striking figure in the process. Honestly, there are songs about it. I’m especially fond of the lyrics from ‘Fire in His Eye’, but then I’ve always been partial to dirty limericks. Say, does anyone know a rowdy shanty we could sing?”
“What about Jogaren?” The sailor seemed to have completely forgotten his earlier anger.
Princess saw the man in green exchange a glance with the man in white before answering. “What have you heard?”
The sailor looked uncertain. “Was a few months back, might have been shit. Lad came by from that way an’ said the Black Thorn camped his army right outside o’ Reingarde an’ challenged Willem Jogaren to a duel, what with him bein’ such a famous fighter an’ all. So Willem trots out on this big horse, wearin’ all shiny armour the likes o’ which ya find on Five Kingdoms knights, all plate an’ mail. Turns out the Black Thorn is as dark as his own reputation, an’ he had the blooded lord feathered with arrows before cuttin’ off his head an’ stakin’ it outside the city.”
The man in green paused his consumption of ale for a brief moment. “Yes, that’s the truth of it.”
“But the folk o’ Reingarde refused to surrender, even with their ruler dead, an’ a couple o’ days later every one of those blooded Jogarens turned up bloody in their beds. Word has it Thorn snuck in an’ cut ’em all up while they slept. Murder, plain an’ simple.”
“I believe Thorn is calling it pre-emptive revenge, actually.” The man in green nodded. “Regardless, Black Thorn and his Rose have vowed to rid the Wilds of the blooded and unite everyone under their rule. Who’s to quibble over the nefarious methods they use, so long as they get shot of those who have been choking the life out of the Wilds for generations, hmm?”
“That include the Brekoviches?” Princess said with a wide grin.
“I’d say it almost certainly does.” The man in green turned to the bar. “They are, after all – oh, fuck. Hello, Princess. I’d say it’s nice to see you, but I’m trying to cut down on the lies, you see. I presume it would be far too much to hope that you’re here alone?”
“Aye, Anders, far too much, mate. Sailed in just now. Gotta say, I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Well, no one likes surprises, Princess. May I suggest pretending I’m not here? Most people tend to find their lives so much more fulfilling upon taking that course of action.”
Princess shook his head. “I reckon Drake might want to see you.”
“Of course he doesn’t.” Anders’ smile looked about as genuine as a pickpocket’s fingers. “I’m such a terrible wastrel that no one is ever pleased to see me.”
Princess knocked back the last of his ale and stood. “Come on, mate. Don’t make this hard on me. My life is already a right fucking chore these days.”
The big man dressed in white rose slowly and positioned himself between Anders and Princess.
“Pern here seems to agree with me, and he’s a very worrying person.” Anders grinned as he peered around his bodyguard. “You know he killed six of those Drurr all on his own.”
Princess opened his mouth to reply, but stopped short of threatening the bigger man. “What Drurr?”
Chapter 39 - Fortune
There was a hole in the Rest. Actually, there were quite a few, and Drake couldn’t give a damn about most of them, but the one he was staring at now changed everything. That hole, where once a ship had floated, meant that while he had once been one of the richest men in the known world, he was now no better off than an average merchant. Drake couldn’t abide being average.