The Emerald Storm (The Riyria Revelations #4)

“What’s he doing on board?” Wyatt asked.

“Is there a problem, helmsman?” Thranic addressed him.

“You fired the ship!” Wyatt accused. “Royce told me he saw you throw a torch in the hold. How many oil kegs did you break to get it to go up like that?”

“Five I think. Maybe six.”

“There were elves—they were locked in the hold—trapped down there.”

“Precisely,” Thranic replied.

“You bastard!” Wyatt rushed the sentinel drawing his cutlass. Thranic moved with surprising speed and dodged Wyatt’s attack, throwing his cloak around Wyatt’s head and shoving the helmsman to the deck as he drew a long dagger.

Hadrian pulled his swords and Staul immediately moved to intercept him. Poe drew his cutlass, as did Grady, followed quickly by Defoe and Derning.

From the rigging above, Royce dropped abruptly into the midst of the conflict, landing squarely between Thranic and Wyatt. The sentinel’s eyes locked on the thief and smouldered.

“Mister Wesley!” Royce shouted, keeping his eyes fixed on Thranic. “What are your orders, sir?”

At this everyone stopped. The ship continued to sail with the wind, but the crew paused. Several glanced at Wesley. The midshipman stood frozen on the deck watching the events unfold around him.

“His orders?” Thranic mocked.

“Captain Seward, Lieutenant Bishop, and the other midshipmen are dead,” Royce explained. “Mister Wesley is senior officer. He is, by rights, in command of this vessel.”

Thranic laughed.

Wesley began to nod. “He’s right.”

“Shut up, boy!” Staul snapped. “Et ez time vee took care of dis bidness ’ere.”

Staul’s words brought Wesley around. “I am no boy!” Turning to Thranic, he added. “What I am, sir, is the acting-captain of this ship and as such, you, and everyone else,” he glanced at Staul, “will obey my orders!”

Staul laughed.

“I assure you this is no joke, seaman. I also assure you that I will not hesitate to see you cut down where you stand, and anyone else who fails to obey me.”

“And ’ow do you plan to do dat?” Staul asked. “Dis ez not dee Emerald Storm. You command no one ’ere.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Hadrian commented, maintaining his familiar smile at Staul.

“Neither would I,” Royce added.

“Me either,” Derning joined in, his words quickly echoed by Grady.

Wyatt got to his feet slowly. He glared at Thranic, but said, “Aye, Mister Wesley is captain now.”

Poe, Banner and Greig acknowledged with communal “Ayes.”

What followed was a tense silence. Staul and Defoe looked at Thranic who never took his gaze off Royce. “Very well, captain,” the sentinel said at length. “What are your orders?”

“I am hereby promoting Mister Deminthal to acting lieutenant. Everyone will follow his instructions to the letter. Mister Deminthal, you will confine your orders to saving this vessel from the Dacca and maintaining order and discipline. There are to be no executions, and no disciplinary actions of any kind without my authorization. Is that clear?”

“Aye, sir.”

“Petty Officer Blackwater, you are hereby appointed master-at-arms. Collect the weapons, but keep them at the ready. See to it Mister Deminthal’s and my orders are carried out to the letter. Understood?”

“Aye, sir.”

“Mister Grady, you are now boatswain. Mister Levy, please take Mister Bulard below so that he can be properly cared for. Let me know if there is anything you need. Mister Derning will be top captain, Seamen Bernie and Melborn report to him for duties. Mister Deminthal, carry on.”

“Your sword,” Hadrian addressed Staul. The Tenkin hesitated, but after a nod from Thranic, handed the blade over. As he did, he laughed and cursed in the Tenkin language.

“You’d have found that a bit harder than you think,” Hadrian replied to Staul and was rewarded with the Tenkin’s shocked expression.

Wyatt had everything nonessential and not attached to the ship thrown overboard. Then he ordered silence and whispered the order to change tack. The boom swung over, catching the wind and angling the little ship out to sea. Well behind them, the last light of the Emerald Storm disappeared, swallowed by the waves. Not quite so far away, they could see lanterns bobbing on the following ships. From the sound of shouts, they were displeased at losing their prize. All eyes faced astern, watching the progression of lanterns as the Dacca continued following their previous tack. After a while, two ships altered course, but guessed incorrectly and turned westward. Eventually all the lanterns disappeared.

“Are they gone?” Hadrian heard Wesley whisper to Wyatt.

He shook his head. “They just put out the lanterns, but with luck they will think we’re running for ground. The nearest friendly port is Wesbaden back west.”

“For a helmsman you’re an excellent commander,” the young man observed.

“I was a captain once,” Wyatt admitted. “I lost my ship.”

“Really? In whose service? The empire or the old Warric fleet?”

“No service. It was my ship.”

Wesley looked astonished. “You were…a pirate?”

“Opportunist, sir. Opportunist.”





***




Hadrian awoke to a misty dawn. A steady breeze pushed the tartane through undulating waves. All around them lay a vast and empty sea.

“They’re gone,” Wesley answered the unasked question. “We’ve lost them”

“Any idea where we are?”

“About three days sail from Dagastan,” Wyatt answered.

“Dagastan?” Grady muttered looking up. “We’re not headed there are we?”

“That was my intention,” Wyatt replied.

“But Wesbaden is closer.”

“Unfortunately, I confess no knowledge of these coasts,” Wesley said. “Do you know them well, Mister Deminthal?”

“Intimately.”

“Good. Then tell us, is Mister Grady correct?”

Wyatt nodded. “Wesbaden is closer, but the Dacca know thi and will be waiting in that direction. However, since it is impossible for them to be ahead of us, our present course is the safest.”

“Despite our earlier differences, I agree with Mister Deminthal,” Thranic offered. “As it turns out, Dagastan was the Storm’s original destination so we must continue toward it.”

“But Dagastan is much farther away from Avryn,” Wesley said. “The Storm’s mission was lost with her sinking. I have no way of knowing her original destination, and even if I did, I have no cargo to deliver. Going farther east only increases our difficulties. I need to be mindful of provisions.”

“But you do have cargo,” Thranic announced. “The Storm’s orders were to deliver myself, Mister Bulard, Dr. Levy, Mister Bernie, and Staul to Dagastan. The main cargo is gone, but as an officer of the realm it is your duty to fulfill what portion you can of Captain Seward’s mission.”

“With all due respect, Your Excellency, I have no way to verify what you say.”