Chapter 40 - Fortune
The Drurr gurgled his last breath, and Beck turned to Drake. “Who?”
“Don’t.” Drake’s nerves were long past shredded, and the reminder of his years with the Drurr had put him in a mood fouler than a week-old corpse. “Some things are better left buried, Arbiter.”
“Like why the Drurr have themselves a necromancer?” Beck moved in front of Drake as he made to leave, blocking his path. “I needed to question that thing.” She pointed at the body of the Drurr.
Drake shook his head. “Your boss sent you to watch my back, protect me, aye?”
Beck nodded.
“Ever think this might be why? These bastards are coming for me. Don’t much matter why. All that matters is that you’re right by my side to set the heretics on fire when they do come.” For all Drake knew it might even be true. Hironous was his brother, but the man kept his cards even closer to his chest than Drake did.
Beck seemed to mull it over for a minute. “I still want to know who she is.”
“It ain’t pertinent,” Drake growled. It was bad enough that he had to live with the memory of what he’d endured, and even worse that she was still alive and looking for him. The very last thing he wanted was anyone else to know, especially Arbiter Beck. For a while they stared at each other, neither willing to be the one to back down.
“Was it the matriarch?” Beck said quietly. She sounded concerned. “The one you mentioned at the spring?”
“Yes,” Drake conceded, hoping it would shut the woman up.
“What did she do to you?”
“Drake,” called a voice from the next ship across.
“What?” Drake roared, venting all his fury at the hapless fool who had chosen to interrupt them.
“I can see you are busy, and I would hate to cause any undue stress. I’ll come back later. Lovely seeing you again.”
“Anders. What in all the watery Hells are you doing here?” Drake almost felt like grinning again; the interruption was a welcome one after all. Anders Brekovich was as slippery a serpent as Drake had ever known, but he was also one of Drake’s best agents. Even if he had died twice.
With a dramatic sigh, Anders bridged the gap between the two ships, and Drake spotted Princess just behind the drunkard along with a man dressed in white. “Well, Pern here…” Anders paused. “You remember Pern Suzku?”
Drake nodded. “Seem to remember you working for that little shit Swift.”
The warrior shrugged.
“Indeed,” Anders continued. “Well, he was also directly responsible for Swift’s death, which is something his old clan frown upon.”
“The Haarin becomes a Honin,” Drake said with a smile. “Dishonoured and a death sentence all in one, I hear.”
The warrior stared down at Drake. “The true dishonour would have been continuing to protect that man,” he said calmly. “My clan chose to serve his evil; I chose otherwise.”
“Oh, yes, you’re the most honourable pariah I know.” Anders shook his head. “His old clan have thrown three Haarin assassins at him in the last year. The fools only come at him one at a time, luckily, or he’d already be dead. After the third, Thorn decided it was best to put Pern out of reach for a while, and here seemed the best location for such a task.”
“And you?” Drake said.
“We couldn’t very well send Pern to the altar of temptation and decadence without an escort, could we? He’s very impressionable. Sheltered life and all that. No, I was the obvious choice to protect him from the seductions this place offers.”
“Of course you were.” Drake glanced over his shoulder at Beck, but she was paying the conversation little attention, instead riffling through the dead Drurr’s clothing. “You were here when these bastards attacked?”
“Oh, yes. We valiantly fought off a score of invaders. Why, some of the Rest’s crew attribute their eventual retreat solely to the efforts of myself and Pern here. In fact, he killed a good six of the bastards single-handedly – with me watching his back, of course.”
“Of course.”
“It didn’t help that they kept getting back up though. I’ve not seen anything like it since Absolution…”
Drake turned to the sailor who had captured the Drurr. “That true?”
“Aye.” The sailor raised an eyebrow at Anders. “More or less. They sunk a good few boats, but we turned the tide when we got ourselves organised. These two helped. So did releasing some of the nastier beasties we keep for fights. Ever heard of a killapede?”
“No.”
“Well…” The sailor looked a bit embarrassed. “Don’t reckon that’s its real name, jus’ what we call ’em cos they look a bit like a centipede, only bigger an’ killa’rer.”
“Go on,” Drake said, intrigued.
“Well, they got a load of body, uh…”
“Segments,” Anders said, apparently recovered from his brief loss of words.
“Aye,” the sailor continued. “Each with two sharp, pointy legs. They can grow up to six feet, I’ve heard, an’ the adults have skin harder than steel. They got poison that paryl… parily…”
“Paralyses.” Anders tipped the sailor a magnanimous nod. “And I believe you mean venom.”
“Yup, that’s the one. An’ they got these big fucking, uh, jaws, more like swords really, that can slice through bone. Seen one take a man’s foot off before. Poor bastard. Anyway, we released a bunch o’ them right as those Drurr cunts were comin’ at us. We haven’t got ’em all back yet.”
“You’re saying there are still some giant centipede killing machines loose aboard the Rest?” Anders said.
“Aye, reckon so.”
“Well, that’s damned unnerving.” Anders produced a hip flask from his jacket and took a few long sips.
“Get ’em found and caught.” Drake ran a hand through his hair as a thought struck him. “Can they be trained?”
The sailor looked uncertain. “Most anything can be trained if caught young enough. No idea how ya might go about it though.”
“Get me one just hatched and have it brought to the Fortune.”
“They don’t exactly hatch so much as eat their way out of the mother…”
“Just get one as young as possible.” Drake dismissed the sailor by turning his attention back to Anders and the Honin. “I hope you have some good news, Anders.”
“I do,” Anders replied cheerily. “So good I think I’ll write it down, hide it somewhere in your cabin, and then quickly jump on a ship bound anywhere but near you.”
Drake sighed. It seemed the fates had decided to heap shit upon him and watch him flounder. Having an oracle for a brother was useful for the long game, but short-term problems were his to deal with through and through.
“Out with it, Anders. Unless it’s your fault, I ain’t about to burn you for it.”
“Oh, sure, you say that now. The Five Kingdoms are building a fleet.”
“Something I don’t know would be better, Anders.”
“Well, they’ve built a new ship as well. A warship.”
“Man of Wars ain’t new. Dealt with one just a while back.”
Anders shook his head. “Those monstrosities are built to carry troops; this new ship is built for war. As big as a Man of War but as fast as a galleon, and bristling with all manner of nasty machines.”
“Such as?” Drake could feel tendrils of worry creeping up his spine.
“Catapults, scorpions, a big steel ram on the front, and more black powder than an army of alchemists could make in a year.” Anders swallowed. He looked nervous. “Rumour says it’s been designed by the engineers of Sarth and built by the shipwrights of the Five Kingdoms, and it’s heading your way soon, if not now.”