An Opportunity for Profit

Chapter Two

Sharessa loved the sunset best near the shore. The open sea was too vast for its molten beauty. A million waves reflected and dispersed the dying light, diluting it with boundless distance. Near land, however, she could see the sun descend hot and swollen into the darkening horizon, casting purple shadows over the green hills. Sharessa could vanish into those shadows, silent and invisible, one with her namesake, the goddess of shadows.

Such escape would be a comfort after the past week of catastrophe and loss. Sharessa thought about how much had passed since they had agreed to follow Belmer.

At first, Sharessa and the other Sharkers had fallen into the old patterns of obedience. Belmer assumed command with such confidence that none questioned him-not even Kurthe, at first. It was more comfortable to follow than to lead, especially in the wake of the Kissing Shark's destruction. Ovrim Redbeard, a vicious rival, had burned their ship; their captain, Blackfingers Ralingor, had been a casualty of the disaster. Redbeard would have killed the rest of them back in Tharkar, if a surprising benefactor hadn't helped them escape.

Belmer had filled Blackfingers's place quickly, proving his promises with quick action. He had seen them safely out of the Tavern of the Masques, all right. He had even led them to a safe house below the Ankle Bells and discarded the fiction of his "Ambassador Droon" identity as soon as they were safe from pursuit. He'd asked for their trust, and he'd seemed to earn it. At least they'd had no better offers.

Moreover, Belmer offered payment beyond anything Sharessa had ever earned from pirating. Perhaps they had been too quick to jump at such an outrageous sum, but they were leaderless and hunted. Belmer's insistence on contracts did much to allay their suspicions. This they had seen before. It was just business.

Now Sharessa wasn't so sure it was good business. As their journey continued, they kept learning more about Belmer. He shed his disguise in Redbeard's first attack, and later he told them that they were to find a kidnapped woman and kill her.

Every time Sharessa thought she was beginning to understand the man, he removed another ruse, revealing another story she was sure would turn out to be yet another ruse. How could they trust him?

Finally, when Kurthe defied Belmer, the little man proved himself a cold and deadly swordsman. Sharessa wanted to believe that Belmer had given Kurthe a chance to obey by drawing out the fight, but Anvil and Brindra seemed sure that Belmer was just playing with him, using his death as an example to the others. If so, the lesson had worked.

Still, the Sharkers were more afraid of drowning than of Belmer. Not so long ago, they had escaped the burning wreckage of their previous ship, the Kissing Shark. In the aftermath of Redbeard's surprise attack, the surviving Sharkers had swum through cold, black waters, the horrid odor of their burning shipmates in every gasping breath. The stink of hot pitch was far preferable.

"We keep outlasting our ships," said Jolloth Bur-buck. He stood beside Sharessa, turned away from the sun. The scars on his face grew deep and black in the shadows. Everyone who knew him called him "the Anvil" for his battered visage, but Shar also knew it was for his iron toughness. She nodded sadly and turned to follow his gaze, past the shore, where the beached crew of the Morning Bird slumped dejectedly, toward the listing mast of their sunken ship. The rest of the Tharkaran caravel lay beneath the surf, its hull sundered by magical rot.

Near Anvil and Sharessa, Brindra pushed herself up from the beach, slapping sand off her clothes with hands like thick slabs of pork. The muscles of her arms rippled in contrast to her barrel-shaped torso. As she rose, she towered over Rings, who stood with his own hairy arms crossed upon his chest. Together, the fat woman and the bald dwarf were the ugliest of the Sharkers. They looked right standing next to each other.

"Fortune smiles on the Sharkers," said Rings with a wink.

"Those the sea hasn't swallowed," countered Brindra with a scowl. There had been no distracting her since Belmer killed Kurthe. Sharessa knew that Brindra would never forgive that particular act of "discipline" from Belmer, even though their employer had transfixed the hot-headed Sharker with the same dagger Kurthe had thrown at him.

Behind Brindra and Rings stood Belgin and Ingrar, the two Edenvalers. Belgin wheezed and stroked his chin as if preparing to make some witty remark. Instead, he coughed into his fist. While fit enough for sailing and fighting, the chubby gambler seemed perpetually ill.

"It's getting dark," said Ingrar. His damp clothes clung to his youthful frame, and he shivered. But his eyes followed the dark-haired Sharesssa and the rivulets of water that ran down her tawny skin and coursed beneath her low-cut shirt.

Anvil nodded. "Where's Belmer? We should move inland before making camp."

Sharessa shook her head. "He was talking to the crew of the Morning Bird. He's in the forest now."

"Maybe he's decided to head to Eldrinpar by himself," suggested Ingrar. He looked worried, like a country boy who has lost track of his father in the city market. He peered into the dense woods, then closed his eyes to listen for any sound when he saw nothing.

"Good riddance, if he did," said Brindra. Rings put a hand on her thick biceps, but she shrugged it off angrily.

"But we have contracts," said Ingrar petulantly. Shar had to look again to see that the swim hadn't shrunk the young man back into a small child. He was more shaken by recent setbacks than anyone.

"Contracts mean little to a man who'll kill his own crew," spat Brindra.

"Hsst!" Ingrar hissed a warning. "You never know when he'll walk up behind you."

Brindra sneered, making her homely face even uglier. "We're out in the open. Unless he can hide behind a grain of sand…"

Rings turned his head suddenly, staring behind Brindra with eyes wide and mouth open. The big woman whirled, seeing nothing but empty beach behind her. Rings chuckled when Brindra tried to glare at him. She lost her stern expression when Sharessa covered her mouth to hide her own smile.

"Why, you miniature…"

"Belmer had no choice," said Rings, shifting back to the subject at hand. "Ye saw what happened, and y" know how Kurthe is."

"Was, you mean." Brindra tried to recover her menacing tone, but Rings had dulled her anger. "I know I'd rather have Kurthe here with us than that black snake. At least with Kurthe you knew what to expect. Belmer lies to us, and he vanishes every time-"

"Enough," said Shar coldly. "Kurthe is dead."

"Let's finish our job," said Anvil, suddenly breaking his heavy silence. "The pay is more than we've ever seen before," said the brawny pirate, as the others turned to look at him. "When we're done, we'll choose our own captain." He looked pointedly at Sharessa.

Brindra grunted and looked at the sand. The others nodded, the dwarfs rings jingling faintly.

Sharessa shook back damp ringlets from her face and squared her slender shoulders. "Let's see what Turbalt's men salvaged from the ship. Maybe-"

"There he is," said Belgin. They all looked to where the pale Edenvaler pointed, and there was Belmer emerging from the green forest.

"Let's go hear our orders," said Shar.

"What?" said Brindra. "That's insane!"

Belmer gave the big woman a cold stare but said nothing else.

"She has a point, sir," said Rings as diplomatically as possible. "Why don't we just light a signal fire? We're so close to Eldrinpar that there's bound to be a ship by soon."

"I don't want to arrive by ship," said Belmer. "We'd have had Turbalt set us ashore before entering Eldrinpar anyway. Considering our task, the fewer who see us enter the city, the better. We'll set out across land tonight."

"The forests of Doegan are not safe," said Anvil. "Especially at night."

"After all the troubles we had at sea, you're afraid of walking through the woods?" Belmer seemed amused.

"Sir," said Sharessa. "We're pirates, not caravan guards. The sea's our place." She smiled silkily at Belmer. His eyes seemed to flicker a moment, and then his lips tightened.

"We're not talking about simple bandits or wild animals," said Belgin reasonably. "The fiends aren't natural creatures. They come from another world, and their powers-"

"The fiends of Doegan can tear a man apart," said Ingrar. His voice took on the cadence of a childhood rhyme. "They catch you up in iron claws and feast upon your heart. They break your bones with burning stones and-"

"Enough," interrupted Belmer. "You're being paid for dangerous work… and to obey."

"And so we will," said Sharessa quickly. "But they say there are even more fiends in the woods lately. An entire caravan was lost last month."

Belmer shrugged. "Rumor turns wolves into wyverns and foxes into fiends. If I'd thought a few forager's tales would frighten you off, I'd have hired Turbalt's crew for less."

Rings bristled at the reproach, and Brindra darkened, a muscle in her jaw twitching.

"It's true that we spend most of our time at sea," said Anvil. "But you can see the truth of it in their eyes in Eldrinpar. There's something out there." He stared into the darkening woods, and all the Sharkers' eyes followed his. Even Belmer glanced at the trees. Here and there a flash of color broke the monotony of the green, and the variety of plant species made the woods more a jungle. A distant sound of swallows lulled the sky to sleep.

"Maybe so," said Belmer. "But if there is anything out there, it would do well to fear us." He looked at each of the Sharkers in turn as he continued.

"You have lost much in the past days," he said. No one reacted to that statement of the obvious. "But you have survived in the face of powerful adversity. Redbeard couldn't burn you with the Kissing Shark, and he couldn't catch you after. Every time we've been attacked, we've won through. You'll fail now only if you can't muster the strength that each victory gives you."

Brindra looked ready to say something, but Sharessa interrupted her. "We'll follow you on land as we did at sea, but we need rest tonight. And Turbalt's crew won't make it two mileb." The Sharkers muttered their agreement. The men of the Morning Bird weren't seasoned pirates like the Sharkers, and they were weaker for having a weak and indecisive captain.

"Well camp after we've made a good start through the woods," said Belmer. "But we leave the crew behind. They'll only slow us."

"But sir," protested Rings. "We can't just leave them shipwrecked." Sharessa felt the same way. The Sharkers were pirates, but they were sailors first. They couldn't abandon the crew that had brought them this far over sea.

Belmer's eyes narrowed. Sharessa feared for a moment that he might punish Rings as he had Kurthe. Instead, he considered Rings's words, smiled faintly, and said, "Very well. But if they slow us, we leave them."

"Aye," said Rings. "Aye," agreed the others, except for Brindra. Belmer didn't seem to notice, but Sharessa thought she saw his eyes slide briefly toward the big woman.

"According to Turbalt, we must head for the hills to the northeast," said Belmer. "Rings, you take Turbalt's men. Spread them out to find a likely path. We haven't much light left, so hurry."

"Aye, sir," said Rings. He sounded almost cheerful now that they were doing something again.

Belmer turned to Sharessa. She felt his eyes caress her body with a casualness that was almost insulting. "Take the waterskins from the salvage and fill them at the stream." He pointed to where he had emerged from the woods earlier. "Find some good branches for torches. There are only a few lanterns from the ship." "Aye."?* #??

They left the beach and pushed into the forest. Their feet were silent on the thick loam, but everywhere they moved, thick fronds shushed in their wake. Only Sharessa moved quietly, slipping gently through the green leaves and branches. Her body was still used to the gentle motion of a ship's deck, and a floor that did not move seemed at once strange and reassuring.

"I hate this," muttered Brindra. She held her big arms close to her body. "You can't see anything through these trees."

"One night in the woods," said Sharessa. "Then a few days in the city, and we'll all go back to sea."

"I still hate it," said Brindra. The big woman had never liked land, especially narrow city streets and thick forests. Her shudders were contagious. Sharessa felt the woods looming on all sides, too. Somehow it felt more confining than a tiny ship cabin. At least at sea, the open air was only a few steps away.

They found the stream, and Anvil shrugged off the mantle of waterskins he had draped over his shoulders. Sharessa took one and immediately began filling it with cool stream water.

"Let's hurry," she said. She turned to Anvil, putting a warm hand on the big man's arm. "See if you can find some good branches." He nodded and moved away, eyes seeking deadfall in the darkening twilight. The others knelt by the stream, plunging the goatskin bags into the stream.

As Sharessa stoppered the second waterskin, a piercing cry cut through the forest. The Sharkers froze and listened. For a long moment, the only sound they heard was that of the stream.

"It's just a bird," said Ingrar uncertainly.

"Listen!" Belgin lifted his waterskin out of the stream and laid it gently on the ground. They all listened but heard nothing.

"Anvil!" called Sharessa in a loud whisper.

"Right here," came the big man's rumbly voice. Sharessa saw him standing no more than twenty yards away, crouched by a tilting shadowtop. Brindra and Belgin sighed audibly at the sight of him. They all fell silent again. A minute quietly strangled itself to death before anyone spoke.

"No birds," said Sharessa. The others nodded. They had heard neither the sparrows nor any other birds since the scream.

"Which way did it come from?" asked Sharessa. Brindra, Ingrar, and Belgin pointed south. When Anvil crept up, he nodded southeast.

"All right, let's go." Shar put down the waterskin, quietly loosened her sword in its scabbard, and led the way southeast.

They moved quickly through the slender trees. Ingrar cursed quietly upon entangling one foot in some creeping vines. Before he could slip out of them, Brindra slashed once with her curving cutlass, and he was free.

"Damned tangle," she spat.

"Quiet," said Sharessa. She gestured forward, and they followed her. The Sharkers traveled another hundred yards through the woods.

"Down!" hissed Sharessa. As one, the Sharkers dropped into crouches. They had all heard the rushing sound ahead. Before them was a small clearing through which the last breath of twilight floated to the forest floor. Sharessa could make out three or four figures on the other side.

"Shar?" It was Rings's voice.

"Here," replied Sharessa, standing. The others followed her into the clearing.

"We heard it, too," said Rings. The faces of the two Mar sailors with him were dark above their striped, sleeveless shirts. "One of the crew was over here."

"Elsger," said one of the sailors. "Elsger!" he called.

"Shh! Don't move." Shar's heart leaped at Belmer's sudden voice. The man was supernaturally quiet until he spoke. His skin was not as dark as that of the Mar, those who descended from the original inhabitants of the region. But with his delicate olive complexion he could blend into the darkness much more naturally than any of the human Sharkers, whose fair skin marked them as children of the Ffolk, the settlers who now ruled the Five Kingdoms.

Belmer bent low and began pacing the edge of the clearing, staring intently at the ground. Surprisingly, Belgin joined him, pausing now and then to peer at a broken stem or torn leaf. The tracking continued in silence for some minutes. Belmer began the circuit a second time, frowning as he passed close to Sharessa. The moon-faced Sharper was less patient.

"I can't see where they go!" shouted Belgin. "The tracks come in, but they don't…"

Sharessa saw three perfectly round spots appear on Belmer's face. The man moved so quickly that he seemed to vanish and reappear two paces back, crouched. His sword materialized at the end of his extended arm, pointing up at the darkening branches. No human sound was uttered, but something like the breeze rustled the leaves above. A breath later, the Sharkers drew their weapons, all eyes following the direction of Belmer's slim blade. Sharessa felt as if she were moving in deep water, so slow were her limbs. Then she saw it.

Bloody remains hung heavily in the boughs above. They would have resembled the offal of a slaughterhouse, save for their incongruous location. Blood pattered down like the first kiss of rain. The Sharkers stared for long seconds.

Brindra pointed to a scrap of blood-sodden cloth dangling from the mess. It was a remnant of the striped shirt of the missing sailor.

"Found him," said Anvil.