-Nate
Tale: “Answers and
Questions”
Max could see that
it was only a matter of time before Martelli and his pirates overran
the rest of the Navy men, and so he had to act quickly. First he
stuck two fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle, and then
scrambled down the side of the roof closer to the storehouse.
Dropping to the ground, he rolled back up onto his feet and then ran
across to that building's front door. Pressing his back against the
wall beside the door, he watched as the soldiers who'd been on guard
duty threw it open and went running toward the dock to help their
fellows.
Recognizing his
opportunity, Max slipped inside.
“Max?” It was
Konrad who saw him first. “Ptah be praised, am I happy to see you.”
The halfling
silenced the dwarf with a finger to his lips. “Save it. Martelli
and his pirates are attacking the compound. We have little time.”
Konrad nodded and
fell silent.
Max stepped over
among the prisoners and, unrolling his tool kit, chose a pair of
lockpicks. With practiced efficiency he set upon his comrades'
shackles. As each crew member was released, he or she took a moment
to stand, stretch, and rub circulation back into aching limbs.
While Max freed
the last crew member, Horace called to him in something like a stage
whisper. “This chest,” and he indicated a wooden one bound with
iron, “I think it has our gear in it.”
The halfling
jogged over to it and went to work on its lock, too. As he did so,
they all heard a distinct three-noted whistle from outside one of the
storehouse's shuttered windows.
It was the call
of a lark.
“That's Uriel
and Nar'raw,” Max announced. “Let them in.”
No sooner had
Horace done so than the big half-orc climbed nimbly through the
opening. With a nod in the direction from which he'd come, Uriel
began helping others back through it, and Nar'raw was there to ease
them to the ground. Lucinda, Konrad and Horace emerged after the crew
members, having taken a moment to reequip themselves, and were
followed by Uriel and Max. Boosted by the half-orc, the halfling did
his best to hitch the latch again from the outside.
“What's the
plan?” Horace asked.
“We have a boat
near here,” Max explained, “but it's not big enough to hold all
of us.”
“I think our
best bet,” Uriel suggested, “is to make for the interior and wait
out Martelli's men. If they don't know we're here, then they won't
think to look for us.”
Horace stroked
his mustache. “That makes sense. After they've departed, we can
send a few people for help.”
Konrad looked
from one officer to the next. “Are we in agreement?” The others
nodded—but then were interrupted by the crash of the storehouse
doors being forced open, followed by the sounds of tramping feet and
angry voices.
“That's it,
then,” Horace declared. “Start the retreat.”
Max moved to
obey, taking the lead and showing the others how to move as quietly
behind him.
Lucinda froze, however, and put up a hand. “Wait.”
“What is it?”
Horace whispered.
For her part, the
half-elf muttered an incantation and then gestured toward the
building.
“Lucinda,”
the human continued, “what are you doing?”
As if heedless of
him, the wizard produced a small bottle from her component pouch,
thumbed the cork out of it, and then dipped a feather inside it. Then
she muttered another spell.
“What is she--”
Horace started to ask, but Konrad shushed him.
Lucinda
concentrated a little longer, and then nodded. “Ah. I suspected as
much.”
“What?”
Horace asked.
She cast a quick
glance at Nar'raw, who was busy attending to other matters. Then
Lucinda smiled. “I think I've found the eggs.”
*
* *
The Larks made their way inland, with Max leading and
Uriel bringing up the rear, the half-orc doing his best to sweep away
any tracks that they left. They followed a circuitous route into the
island's thickly wooded interior, and then waded across a shallow
stream to conceal their passage. Eventually they arced back to the
island's southern coastline and there stayed hidden behind a hill
from atop which Max could watch the pirates in the bay. Peering
through the spyglass that he'd taken from the house, he could see
them emerge from the compound and start back toward the ships. A
moment later, smoke began drifting up into the sky from inside the
compound, and before much longer the light of flames became visible.
Martelli's men paused for a moment to observe the fruit
of their handiwork, and then started toward the peer. Some of them
carried more torches and flammable materials, and went aboard the
docked Luminous.
“Damnation,” Max swore, and then ran back down the
hill toward his comrades' makeshift camp.
*
* *
The other Larks were resting and sharing a meal of
gathered fruits and the last of Uriel's smoked meat, along with water
from the stream, when Max returned.
“What's the news?” Horace asked.
“Good and bad,” Max explained. “On the one hand,
there's a galley ripe for the taking docked in the harbor. On the
other, Martelli and his men are setting fire to it.”
“What!?” several voices demanded together.
“Even so,” the halfling continued, “they are
setting sail while we speak.”
“So we could save it?” Horace asked.
Max nodded. “Aye.”
“Good. You and Uriel, take a few hands and salvage
that ship.”
*
* *
The halfling and half-orc led a small party back along
the coastline, careful to stay out of sight of the departing pirates.
Reaching the harbor, they rushed aboard the galley, which was only
starting to burn. Swinging his sword, Uriel cut away chunks of wood
that were aflame, and the crew members—their hands wrapped in wet
cloth—tossed them overboard. Before long, all of the flames were
extinguished.
“What do we do now, sir?” a crewman asked, turning
to the half-orc.
“Cut some greenwood,” Uriel advised, “and throw
it on the burning fort. We don't want the pirates to suspect that
something is amiss.”
*
* *
An hour later, the officers of the Skylark were
gathered around a makeshift captain's table in the aft section on the
lower deck of the Luminous—one assembled from cargo crates,
and surrounded by more of the same that were used for chairs—with a
map spread out for viewing. At the same time, Max was poring over the
letters that he'd taken from the house in the compound.
“Lucinda,” Horace asked, “what was that spell
that you cast into the storehouse?”
She smiled. “There were two, actually—one to detect
the presence of magical items, and one to identify their natures.”
Horace nodded. “And what did you learn?”
“Arturo Martelli carries on his person an item that
has a strong aura of conjuration magic.”
The others waited for more information.
“I believe it is,” Lucinda continued, “a portable
hole.”
“A what?” Uriel asked.
“To put it simply,” she explained, “it is a piece
of what seems to be ordinary black cloth, but it is imbued with
magical properties such that there is an extra-dimensional space
inside it, which allows its owner to store things inside while it is
spread out upon the ground, but then to hide it on one's person when
it has been folded up.”
The others just stared at her, before Nar'raw spoke up.
“And you think that Martelli has my clan's eggs inside that thing?”
Lucinda nodded. “Yes.”
Nar'raw hissed. “But what good is it to know that, if
we don't know where the pirates are headed?”
Before anyone else could reply, Max responded. “ I
believe I can help with that.”
“What?” a number of voices asked.
The halfling shrugged. “While I was, exploring
the house, I found a few letters that can shine some light on this
subject.” He produced a bundle of papers from inside his coat and
held it up with a smile.
“What,” Nar'raw stammered, “what does it say?”
“It says here, “ Max replied, “that this wrecked
vessel was last reported as passing the southern tip of the Morean
Peninsula, and that it was headed east toward the Sacred
Archipelago.”
“I know that area,” Horace added, pointing to
locations on the map northwest of Minotaur Island and eastward from
there. It's a tangle of islets and rocks that make for treacherous
sailing; if this ship sank, then that's a likely place.”
“So,” Nar'raw hissed, “we can go after the
pirates?”
Horace nodded. “Yes, but we must be careful about
it.”
“So, what's the plan?” Uriel asked.
The captain smiled. “For now we start rowing; we can
figure out the plan along the way.”
No comments:
Post a Comment