Wake of the Bloody Angel

Chapter Fourteen

Blefuscola rose from the horizon long before we reached it, thanks to a towering dead volcano located in the center of the island. From a distance it looked lush and tropical, but it was deceptive: the green clinging to the volcano’s slopes was mostly moss. It was uninhabited except for the allegedly neutral port on its northern side.

The Red Cow had doffed her disguise and was now back to her old identity. The false cargo crates collapsed into thin flat piles that could easily be stacked below, and the ship’s real name replaced her alias Crimson Heifer. The empty barrels stayed lashed to the stern, though. I still didn’t know what purpose they served.

If Captain Clift was the worse for wear after the previous night, it didn’t show. He was on deck before me, calmly issuing orders for Mr. Seaton to then repeat very loudly. Jane stayed below; I don’t know if it was from boredom, sleepiness, or our confrontation. I also saw no sign of Duncan Tew, but if he worked the night watch, he was probably sleeping as well.

The Red Cow circled Blefuscola until we reached the north side. The coastline seemed to be all high rock cliffs, with no apparent entrance. I wondered where this supposedly safe harbor was, until suddenly Seaton called for more canvas and the Cow began to pick up speed directly toward those same high cliffs.

I stood at the bow, trying to stay out of the way and trusting that Clift, Seaton, and the rest of the crew knew what the hell they were doing. We shot toward the island; waves crashed into the base of the rocks, sending up great white plumes. I began to get a little nervous.

Seaton, standing at the ship’s wheel, continued bellowing Clift’s orders to the crew. They were all in nautical-ese, and none of them seemed to be Slow down. I gripped the nearest rail and tried to look nonchalant. They had to know what they were doing, didn’t they?

Then, at the last minute, the ship’s undulation separated one rock wall from the other. There was an opening, but you could see it only from an angle because the ends of the two rock walls overlapped. I also saw the reason for the straight approach: rocks just under the surface on either side of the ship’s course.

“A bit flabbergasting at first, isn’t it?” Mr. Greaves said beside me.

“It does make you question the navigator’s sanity,” I admitted.

He gestured at the rocks on either side of us. “Steeple rocks. If the tide’s right, they’re hidden just below the waterline, and they’ll gut a ship the way Avencrole does a pig. Only safe course through them is straight in.”

“How many ships did it take to figure that out?”

He laughed. “I’m sure the bones of quite a few rest at the bases of those things, impaled like a knight on a lance. But I’ve not known any sailor who didn’t know about them, so the word’s well and truly out by now.”

“But you don’t tell the passengers.”

He clapped me on the shoulder. “Ah, Mr. LaCrosse, a seaman’s life is filled with so few moments of delight, it’d be a shame to deprive them of the look on your face.”

I glanced around in time to catch several men quickly look away. How could I not laugh, too? “Glad to help the morale.”

Greaves saluted me. “You’re a good sport, Mr. LaCrosse.”

The ship sailed gracefully through the opening. For a moment, the huge cliffs blocked any view of the sea behind us or the harbor ahead. Birds nested in crevices, and in places strange nautical images and hieroglyphs were carved into the rock. This passage had been used for quite some time, maybe hundreds of years. I’d have to ask how it was established as a neutral port, since a neutral anything was, in my experience, a rarity.

Then we reached the end of the inner wall, turned to port, and entered the harbor itself.

It was quite a sight. The harbor was an almost perfect circle, and the dark blue water hinted at extreme depth. Directly across from the entrance, a small city stood along the beach, with that tangled, warrenlike appearance of places that grew haphazardly over time. And except for the beach where this city stood, there were only rock walls going straight down into the water.

And suddenly we knew where all the other ships were.

The harbor was a jungle of masts, spars, and shrouds. The packed docks of Watchorn were nothing compared to this. It looked like every type of vessel in the whole Southern Ocean had decided to hide here.

But why?

Once inside the harbor, the wind died to a whisper, and the water was so still that the cliff walls reflected as clearly as they would in a mirror. Clift ordered, “Ease your helm, Mr. Seaton.”

“Aye, sir,” came the quartermaster’s reply from the wheel.

Our momentum carried us forward. We slowed so that by the time we got close enough to anchor near the back of this ad hoc fleet, we were barely moving.

“Bloody golden starfish,” Clift muttered as he surveyed the ships. All had their sails furled away, and many had gangways crossing from one vessel to another, forming a complex web. “Looks like they’ve settled in for good.”

“It’ll take us a day just to get to shore from here,” Seaton grumbled.

“What the hell?” Jane said from behind me. I turned, and was surprised to see she was dressed more demurely than before; a vest covered her, ahem, points of interest, and she’d procured knee-high boots from somewhere.

If Clift noticed, he gave no sign. Instead he said, “This must be why we haven’t seen any ships in the cargo lanes.”

“No kidding,” Jane agreed. “There’s no weather in the sky, and it’s the wrong time of year for the big storms, anyway. What could have driven them here?”

“We’ll never know till we ask,” Clift said. “Mr. Seaton, ready the wherry. We’re going ashore.”

“The wherry, sir? Will you not be taking a few men for security?”

“This is a friendly port, and with our two guests along, I’m sure I’ll be safe.”

“I’ll pack you a picnic,” Seaton muttered, then began shouting orders.

“I take it this is unusual,” I said to Jane when we were alone.

“Yeah, I didn’t even know the ship had a wherry. I thought all the boats were launches.”

“I meant about this,” I said, and gestured at the harbor.

“Oh. Yeah, this is absolutely nuts,” she agreed. “Look at all the flags, too. This isn’t just one kingdom’s fleet; this is everyone. It’s a total shutdown of trade. Nobody’s getting anything.”

Clift, Jane, and I boarded the wherry, rowed by two young sailors. Navigating among the big ships was a bit like canoeing down a canyon, with only a narrow band of sky visible above us. Although the vessels were anchored, there was still plenty of slow movement, and we had to push ourselves away from shifting hulls more than once. It was a sunny day, but the shadows between ships felt isolated and spooky.

As we passed one ship, Clift said, “I know this ship’s captain.” He stood, cupped his hands around his mouth, and called, “Ahoy, sloop Raccoon! Is Captain Freisner aboard?”

A face appeared over the rail. “And who might you be?”

“Clift, of the Red Cow. ”

“Well, Clift of the Red Cow, that coward Freisner went ashore three days ago and we haven’t seen him since! If you run across him, tell him his crew no longer requires his presence!” The face withdrew without waiting for a reply.

Clift sat back down. Jane said, “Do you suppose all these vessels are captainless?”

“I don’t know what the fuck they are,” Clift snapped. “Any insights from the great investigators?”

Jane said, “Dylan, that’s not fair-”

“What are ships like this afraid of?” I asked.

Clift turned slowly and looked at me, but his anger had already dissipated. “Only war, weather, or pirates could stop a merchant ship from delivering her cargo. There’s no war big enough to account for all this, the weather’s perfect, and we haven’t seen any pirates, either.”

“But look at that,” Jane said, and pointed. “A Rafelian navy frigate.”

“So it’s not just commercial ships,” I said.

“Apparently not.”

It took a long time, but eventually we reached the end of a dock where we could tie up alongside the launches from several other vessels. The town beyond the docks swarmed with people, but they weren’t moving much; they stood in groups talking, or listening to speakers pontificating from storefronts, or just numbly standing around.

Clift turned to our pair of rowers. “Men, stay with the wherry. If we’re not back by nightfall, return to the ship and tell Mr. Seaton he’s in charge, and that my advice is to get the hell out of here.”

“Aye, sir,” they said.

He kept looking at them. “I’m serious, lads. I’m trusting you. I don’t know what’s going on yet, but I see plenty of vessels who seem content to molder here. The Cow is not one of them. Am I clear?”

The two sat up a little straighter, and their simultaneous “Aye, aye, sir,” was more emphatic.

“Good. I always knew I had the best crew in the fleet.”

As we strode down the dock toward solid land, I noticed something and asked, “What’s that?”

A dozen ships were blocked off from the rest of the harbor by red buoys connected by stout chains. Armed men stood along the waterfront, isolating these vessels from land. None had any visible damage, or crew.

“There’s the Mellow Wine,” Jane said, pointing.

I recognized the abandoned ship we’d encountered before. “Are all those ghost ships, then?”

“Maybe that’s what everyone is-” Suddenly Clift stopped, staring at one of the ships behind the quarantine line.

Jane said, “What is it?”

“The Indigo Ray, ” Clift said in disbelief. “She’s one of ours. A pirate hunter.”

The ship he indicated had the same general lines as the Red Cow, but was painted dark colors to better suit her name. Clift headed toward her, only to have one of the guards move to block his way.

“Sorry, Cap’n Clift,” the guard said. “Nobody goes aboard. Harbormaster’s orders.”

“Who brought in the Indigo Ray?”

“I can’t really say. You’ll have to talk to the harbormaster.”

“Was she one of the ghost ships?”

The guard looked at his fellows, then leaned closer. “D’you remember me, Cap’n? Ah, well, no matter. You gave me a fair shake once when you didn’t have to, and I remember it. The Copper Lance brought in the Ray. She was found empty and adrift, just like the others. ’Tis one thing to have a cargo vessel overtook, but first naval warships, then one of the pirate hunters…” He shook his head. “Now no one will leave the harbor.”

“Anyone mention a strange mark left on them?” I interjected.

He looked at me suspiciously. “What sort of a mark?”

“A double X,” Clift said.

The guard turned his attention back to the captain. “Aye, I’ve heard rumors of that. Haven’t seen it myself. On the door to the captain’s cabin, they say.”

“Where’s the captain of the Lance?”

“No idea, Cap’n. Try the harbormaster, if you can get through the crowd.”

“Thanks, Mr.-?”

“Weston, sir.”

“Weston. Sorry, I don’t recall when we met.”

“Only one of us has to, sir.”

“We’ll not get answers here,” Clift said to us. He marched down the dock with such purpose that people instinctively stepped aside. We almost ran to keep up.

At the end of the dock stood a huge sign welcoming people to Blefuscola in a dozen different languages. The town’s motto was also repeated multiple times: “A safe place for all ships in need.”

That noble sentiment was balanced by the most godawful smell I’ve ever encountered outside a privy. I’d acclimated to the ship’s odors, to the point that the piss barrel didn’t even register on me anymore, but this was about a million times worse. Unwashed bodies, mud, urine, and rotting garbage contributed to a wave of aroma that made my stomach roil. Even Jane wrinkled her nose.

“Overcrowding,” she said. “There’s usually only about a tenth this many people here.”

“What do they want?” I asked.

“Safety. Protection. Answers.”

“I want answers, too,” Clift snapped in annoyance. “And we won’t find them cowering here, put off by a little stink.”

Those ashore who noticed us did not look happy to see us, and turned away as soon as we made eye contact. Our progress was significantly slowed by a crowd gathered in front of one of the little buildings to hear a wild-voiced man pontificate on something. We couldn’t avoid his harangue as we worked our way around.

“It was a cable’s length long, from maw to tail tip. And it came roaring out of the dark, with one big baleful eye. Whoosh! We’re smashed in to starboard. Wham! We’re crushed to port. And then, it come up amidships, tore away our masts, and sunk us. Thirty good and true sailor men, drowned and dead.”

The crowd murmured.

“And whatever is behind these ghost ships is part of the same vile family! I tell ye, it probably flies down and snatches the folks off the deck before they even know what’s coming! Flies out of the sun, I bet ye, like an eagle snaring a field mouse.”

“Flying monsters,” Clift said disdainfully, then added loudly, “Flies out of your goddamn liquor jug, maybe!”

“And who might you be?” the old man demanded.

“Someone who has sense enough to know there’s no flying one-eyed monsters out there. If your ship sank, friend, I’d be looking at the captain first; maybe he just can’t read a map, and decided a monster was a better cause than a reef he didn’t spot in time.”

I said nothing, but recalled vividly a cave in the hills above Neceda where I faced the last of the fire-breathing dragons. So I wasn’t so quick to reject the idea out of hand.

“You!” someone else cried. We looked around. A peglegged sailor hobbled through the mud toward us, using the shoulders of others in the crowd for balance. When he reached us, the one-legged man said, “You’re from the bloody AntiFreebooters, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Clift said guardedly.

“Then why are you here? Why aren’t you out there finding the villains who did this?”

“And who are you?” Clift challenged. “Doesn’t look like any of you are in a position to call another man coward.”

This raised some hackles in the crowd. I leaned close to Jane and said, “Should we expect a fight?” She shrugged, but surreptitiously moved away to guard the captain’s other blind spot. I folded my arms, which put my hand near my sword hilt.

“We’re not fighting men, you cur,” peg leg said. “We pay taxes and tariffs so your kind will do that dirty work. So why aren’t you out there?”

We were now the focus of the crowd’s ire, and they closed in around us. The fight would be long, and we’d take a lot of them with us, but eventually they’d have us by sheer numbers. I saw the muscles in Jane’s shoulders flex as she got ready.

Clift walked up to peg leg, looked him up and down, and then slapped him so hard, he fell to the mud.

“You stinking, bilge-sucking son of a bitch!” he yelled. “You want to pick a fight with me, get up and do it! I won’t stand for your slander.” He looked at the crowd. “What about the rest of you? Any of you feel lucky?”

When no one responded, he looked down at peg leg. “I just arrived in this stink-hole. I don’t have a clue what’s happening with these ghost ships, but by heaven, I’ll make a ghost of the next man who calls me a coward.” He yanked peg leg to his feet… well, foot. “Go sign aboard my ship, the Red Cow. Tell them Captain Dylan Clift sent you personally. Then when we find the source of these attacks, you can be right there to see for yourself. If your balls hang low enough for the job, that is.”

Peg leg wrenched free and disappeared back into the crowd. Clift glared around us, his gaze hot enough to make the crowd retreat wherever it fell. In moments, no one looked our way at all.

He turned to us and said, “That was fun.” I think he meant it.

People got out of our way even faster as we continued into town, the muddy street sucking at our boots. We reached a small building with a sign out front that announced, again in a dozen languages, that the man inside was both the town magistrate and the harbormaster. A crowd waited outside, while within, a dozen other captains shouted at one another. Clift pushed through them to the desk, where an old man with long white hair sat, a quill and inkwell before him.

“I’m Captain Dylan Clift of the Red Cow, ” he announced. “I need to see the harbormaster.”

The old man barely looked up. “Take a seat, wait your turn.” “I’m a pirate hunter, I get priority,” Clift said.

“Not today, you don’t. All those ships in the harbor? The captain of every one of them is ahead of you.”

Clift leaned down. “I don’t think you heard me. We get priority.”

The man’s weathered face drew into a grimace as if a string tightened it from within his skull. “I don’t think you heard me, youngster. Not today, you don’t.” He dipped his pen in the inkwell to tell Clift he was dismissed. “Take a seat, wait your turn, and stop bothering me.”

I stepped up to the desk and deliberately jingled the coins in my money bag. “I think we can reach an agreement.”

The old man’s face tightened even more. “Oh, a bribe. With a harbor full of uncouth and barbaric sailors, no one’s thought to try that yet. My God, you’re brilliant.” He snorted in disgust.

Jane said, “I guess we’ve got no choice.” She turned and went toward the door marked PRIVATE in the same list of tongues. A guard I hadn’t noticed stepped in front to stop her. I didn’t see exactly what she did to him, but it was fast and silent. She caught his unconscious body and lowered him to the floor.

Heads turned toward us. As the old man rose to protest, I tossed a gold coin on his desk. The clink got the attention of just about everyone in the room. I said, “Thanks, pops.” I could imagine how happy the others would be to think the old man let us in ahead of them.

There was a man seated before the harbormaster’s desk, and he jumped up when we appeared. “Dylan!” he cried, and shook the captain’s hand enthusiastically. “At least one other of us has made it to safety.”

“Captain Shaw of the Copper Lance, this is Eddie LaCrosse and Jane Argo,” Clift said.

Shaw stared at Jane. “ The Jane Argo?”

“Definitely a Jane Argo,” she said with a grin.

“It’s an honor to meet you.” He blatantly looked her up and down. “You certainly live up to the tales about you.”

“Ahem,” the harbormaster said. He was a little round man, with leathery skin and a gold hoop in one earlobe. The wooden placard on his desk read HENSE MOLEWORTH, HARBORMASTER. A man whose name and job had the same initials must’ve found the right career. “I hate to interrupt this nautical good fellow society, but may I ask what you people are doing here? You have to wait your turn and-”

“Why are all these ships hiding here?” Clift interrupted.

Moleworth rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “We have a harbor full of unpaid, unwelcome guests who refuse to leave because they believe something supernatural is out there swallowing up ships’ crews. And for all I know, they may be right.”

Clift turned to Shaw. “Is that what you think?”

“I wouldn’t be so dramatic about it, but it’s the damndest thing. These empty ships started turning up six months ago. We found two passenger vessels abandoned, and brought them in. Then five days ago, we came across the Indigo Ray. Totally empty, not a thing out of place. There was even a kettle with a fire still under it.”

“And no indication of what happened?” I asked.

Shaw looked at me. “You’re not a sailor.”

“He’s my charter,” Clift said.

“You’re chartering now?” Shaw asked.

“Only this once. And only for-” He nodded at Jane. “-special circumstances.”

“Well, if you want to get out of here, you better do it before your crew hears about the Ray. Once mine did, they flat-out refused to leave. Even talked about going back on the account if I try to force them. The bunch of yellow flying fish.”

“They’re that scared?” I asked Shaw.

“The Ray was no pussy willow,” he said.

“No,” Clift agreed. “It wasn’t. They had more captures than anyone else last year.” He turned to us. “Come on. Shaw’s right-we’re leaving.”

We left the harbormaster’s office, but we didn’t head back to our wherry. Instead we returned to the quarantined ships and Weston the guard.

“I want to go aboard the Indigo Ray, ” Clift said, softly so that the other guards wouldn’t hear.

“I can’t allow that, Cap’n,” Weston whispered back. “Nothing personal.”

“You said I once gave you a fair shake. That’s all I’m asking from you. We need to go aboard and look around. The authority that told you to keep people off the ship would understand, and would grant me permission, but that would take time we don’t have. We won’t move things around or take anything off. We just need to look.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Clift reached into his pocket. Weston said stiffly, “I don’t bribe, sir.”

“I’m not going to bribe you. I’m going to show you a piece of parchment. Only you and I will know what it says. If I say it’s permission to investigate the Indigo Ray signed by Queen Remy herself, and you don’t contradict me, who’s to say either of us is lying?”

Clift produced a small rolled parchment, untied it, and held it for Weston’s perusal. The guard looked at it, then at Clift, his face impassive. At last he said, “Very well, Captain Clift.” He turned to his nearest coworker. “Cap’n Clift and his party have permission to go aboard the Indigo Ray. Pass them through.”

“Aye,” said the other guard.

Weston said, “There’s some launches tied at the end of the pier. You’ll have to row yourselves, I’m afraid.”

“I remember how,” Clift said. “Thank you, Mr. Weston. If you ever want to return to the sea, there’s fair work and wage for you on the Red Cow. ”

“Much obliged, Cap’n. It might just happen.”

The Indigo Ray was essentially the same ship as the Red Cow, and searching it did not take long. It was hard to know what to think about it, since it was obvious others had been here before us: chalk outlines showed where various items had rested before being removed. The captain’s cabin was closed off with the yellow ribbon of authority, but we slipped under it and went inside.

The double X was carved on the door, just as Fernelli had described on the Mellow Wine. As the others poked about, I stared at this symbol, struck by something I couldn’t quite pull forward from the back of my mind. It made sense that a criminal would mark the scene of his crime, especially if his future success depended as much on reputation as it did actual prowess. That was why so many pirates had their own flag designs. They wanted potential victims to know who they were.

“The medical box is gone,” Jane said. “Just like on that merchant ship.”

“The logbook’s gone, too,” Clift said. “I’d love to know their last noted position.”

“If there was a pattern, don’t you think the harbormaster would’ve mentioned it?” Jane said.

“You’re getting soft,” Clift said. “You trust quill-pushers now?”

Jane ignored him and joined me to stare at the door. “What do you see?”

“Something,” I said. “Just not sure what yet.”

She leaned close to my ear. “This isn’t our enigma, Eddie. Maybe we should try to find another ship. I know Dylan: he’s going to go after this. He takes any insult to the guild personally, and it’s hard to be more insulting than to leave one of their own ships in this condition.”

“I heard that,” Clift said.

“Stop eavesdropping,” Jane shot back.

“You’re across the room, it’s impossible not to,” Clift replied.

Suddenly the XX image resolved itself. I said, “I’m not so sure this isn’t our mystery, too. Give me your knife.”

Jane took the blade from her belt, and I held it horizontally across the middle of the two X ’s. I asked, “Now what do you see?”

She got it at once. “Ha!” she bellowed in delight.

Clift joined us. “What? I don’t see anything but two X ’s.”

“No,” I said. “With a line dividing them, it becomes a W on top of an M.”

“For Wendell Marteen,” Jane added, still grinning.

Clift stared at the symbol. “Is this,” he said at last, “what you’d consider a ‘clue’?”

“It is. I can’t say for certain that it does stand for Wendell Marteen, but it’s a coincidence if it doesn’t.”

“Are you willing to start searching for the source of these ghost ships under the belief that it will lead to Marteen? Because I can’t continue the charter otherwise. This is too serious, and the Cow needs to get back to her real job.”

“Yeah, I’ll go along with it.”

He smiled. “Then let’s get to work.”

When we climbed back onto the dock from the launch, I felt eyes on me at once. It took me a moment to spot my watcher, but there he was: a man in a faded jacket and patched trousers, with a black handkerchief around his neck. His poxscarred face resembled the cracked bed of a river after the waters had dried up. He was just beyond the docks, staring at us-at me-as if I owed him money. People gave him a wide berth.

Jane saw him, too. “Friend of yours?” she said softly. I shook my head. “Never saw him before.”

The man pointed at me. I did as well, raising my eyebrows in a question: Me? He nodded.

“I’ll meet you at the boat,” I said.

“I’ll come with you,” Jane said.

“No,” I said, and my voice sounded strange even to me. “I want to talk to him alone.”

“Why?”

I wasn’t sure myself. “I just do. I’ll tell you what he says.”

“Okay,” Jane said, although she clearly thought I was bonkers.

I went through the cordon of guards, down the steps, and onto the muddy shore, where the man awaited me.

“You wanted to see me?” I asked when I was face-to- face.

He smelled of mud and fish.

“You be the man with the hole in his heart?”

I assumed he meant my scar, although I couldn’t imagine how he knew about it. “Maybe. Who wants to know?”

“My name isn’t important. Just that I hear things before they happen.”

I smiled wryly. “And you heard something about me, right?

How much will it cost me to find out?”

“I don’t want your money,” he said with a twitch. “I just want to tell you that you will find the man you seek. The man with black hair.”

I felt goose bumps on my back. I tried to stay nonchalant.

“Oh. Well… thanks.”

“And you will find him alive.”

“That’s good, too.”

“But don’t seek after his gold. It’s got too much blood on it.”

“I’m not interested in his gold.”

He laughed. “A man may say that, until the gold’s before him.”

“And a man may mean it.”

He shrugged. “As you say. This is my claim, my threatening, and my message.”

“You do your office fairly,” I said in court-speak, and pressed a coin in his hand.

He jumped back as if scalded, and the money landed in the mud at my feet. “I told you, I don’t want your money!” He rushed away toward town and disappeared back into the crowd. I bent and picked up the coin. I wasn’t a superstitious man, but I’d seen enough to convince myself that I had little knowledge of how the universe truly worked. I took his warning under advisement. Very serious advisement.

Back at the dock, the two sailors who rowed us from the Cow rushed to meet us. “Did you hear, Captain?” one said. “The Indigo Ray was found as a ghost ship. They took down a pirate hunter!”

I knew the sailors had no idea who “they” were, which made the concept even scarier. If they got back to the Cow, we might be as marooned as the Copper Lance. I pulled out my money bag and handed each man a gold coin. “You’re to stay here,” I said. “Learn as much as you can. When we get back, I’ll want a full report.” I looked at Clift. “Right?”

Clift understood. “Right.”

Jane and I rowed while Clift navigated the boat back among the anchored ships. When we got to the Red Cow, Clift called for all sails, and in the faint wind, we eased toward the harbor opening. Finally we emerged, the real wind caught us, and we shot forward into the ocean, toward our rendezvous with a nightmare.