Deadhouse Landing

Keren peered about right and left, then lowered her voice, ‘Tryin’ get your goat, is all.’

‘Why?’

‘Got the confidence of the crew, don’t ya? Something he ain’t got. Can’t have any rivals, hey?’

Cartheron just looked to the sky. ‘Oh, for the love of Beru.’

She gave a broad wink. ‘Hey – light duties. What’s to complain?’

He sighed. ‘Right. Thanks, Keren,’ and he wandered off.

*   *   *

After two days of slouching about on the Avarice with no assigned duties, he went back to see Hess. He was left waiting all afternoon until the captain emerged from his cabin. Cartheron saluted, and Hess eyed him, his displeasure obvious. ‘What is it, sailor?’

‘Duties all completed, captain. Permission to see to private obligations.’

‘Permission denied, sailor.’

Cartheron refused to stand down. ‘May I ask why, captain?’

Hess turned away. ‘You serve at my pleasure, sailor. That should be clear.’

Cartheron closed his eyes, thinking, Oh, to the Abyss with Surly’s command to keep the post. ‘Then as a free raider I resign my berth.’

Hess stopped short; he turned round and closed, staring down at him – Cartheron was not a particularly tall man. ‘You resign,’ he said. Behind his moustache a one-sided smile climbed his lips. ‘Is that so. Good. I’ve been hoping you’d do that. Resignation accepted.’ He pointed to the side. ‘Now get your damned Napan ass off my ship.’

‘Gladly.’ Cartheron headed for the gangway. On his way he caught sight of Dujek, who was frowning and rubbing the back of his neck.

Now for Surly.

*   *   *

The woman to whom he had sworn his unswerving loyalty was furious. She paced the rough planks of the common room floor, jabbed a finger into her palm with each point: ‘You know we’re in dire need of funds and you quit the Avarice?’ The finger jabbed and Cartheron winced. ‘We’ve sunk everything we have into the Twisted!’ Jab, wince.

‘Sunk is right,’ muttered Grinner from where he sat on a stool next to the door. The finger swung to him. ‘Shut the Abyss up or you’re next.’ Grinner looked to the street, whistling silently. Across the room Tocaras fought to stifle a laugh.

‘Surly…’ Cartheron began, trying to keep his voice as reasonable as he could.

‘Quiet. I’m not finished. You know I was counting on the shares from your position on the Avarice.’

‘Yes, but—’

The door opened and Shrift rushed in. ‘There’s a gang hanging around the Front Street cloth warehouse…’ Her voice dropped away as she took in the thick atmosphere of the room.

Surly rounded on her. ‘So? Take care of it.’

Shrift’s dark brows rose. ‘Okaaay.’ She cuffed Grinner and he grunted, straightening. He checked his belted knives, and the two bowed out.

Surly swung her attention back to Cartheron and set her fists on her narrow hips. She studied him, her eyes slit, and he knew her well enough to wonder: What’s she thinking now?

‘You’ve left me no choice,’ she said, nodding to herself as though she had reached some sort of decision. ‘We’ll have to do it.’

‘Ah … do what?’

‘Take the Twisted out.’

Choss, who had been silently taking all this in at the bar, nearly fell off his stool. ‘You’re joking! It isn’t ready.’

She gave him a scowl. ‘What can be ready for the raid?’

‘You mean the one in two weeks? The secret one that the whole island knows about?’

Surly just stared. ‘Yes. That one.’

He steadied himself on the stool, considering. ‘Well … if I focused on the hull I could finish there – but that’s all! The canvas is all old, the lines are worn and rotten in places, and of course the—’

She raised a hand to silence the litany. ‘It’ll float. Fine.’

‘I wouldn’t trust the rigging even in a moderate blow.’

‘We’ll manage.’ She turned on Cartheron. ‘There. We’re going.’

He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Mock won’t allow it.’

She returned to her pacing. ‘What can he do? We’re free raiders like everyone else. The vessel is ours. He can’t stop us.’

Cartheron went to the bar to pour himself a tankard of weak beer and sent Choss a glare. The man scratched his chin for a moment, thinking. ‘We don’t have the crew,’ he produced.

‘Send out the word.’

‘None will join with us Napans,’ said Cartheron.

‘Do it anyway.’

Choss gave Cartheron a shrug. Cartheron sighed, turned to put his back to the bar, and sipped his beer. ‘Fine. We’ll put out the word.’

Surly gave a curt nod and stopped pacing. She brushed her hands together. ‘Very well. I guess we’re done.’ She pointed to Choss. ‘What’re you doing here? Get to work.’

Tocaras let out a muffled laugh; Choss straightened from his stool and regarded him. ‘What’re you laughing at? You’re comin’ with me.’

Tocaras stood as well. ‘Did I tell you I hate the sea?’

‘Every damned day.’ Choss looked to Cartheron. ‘You too. Finish your beer.’

‘Hey! I just finished a full day on the Avarice.’

‘In which you did fuck all.’ Choss motioned him onward. ‘Now c’mon. It’s time to do some actual work.’

Cartheron downed his beer and wiped his mouth. ‘Wonderful. I hate this job.’

*   *   *