‘No kidding,’ Cartheron muttered beneath his breath. ‘Okay. So, why the shortage? Is it money?’
Urko shook his head, chewing. ‘Naw. It’s Mock – he’s claimed everything for the refitting of his boats.’
Cartheron kicked up a clot of mud. ‘Hood take it. Fine. I guess we’ll just have to fall back on the usual.’
His brother sighed. ‘Right. We steal it.’
A new figure came heading over from the boardwalk and it took a moment for Cartheron to recognize the man: the marine from the Avarice, Dujek. He motioned to his brother to indicate that the man was a friend. ‘I didn’t do it,’ he called to Dujek, ‘whatever it is.’
Dujek gave an answering grin. ‘How can you say that? The kid looks just like you!’
Urko elbowed him. ‘Quick work.’
Cartheron gave him a glare. ‘Very funny. Dujek, Urko.’ Both nodded. ‘What can I do for ya?’
The marine rubbed a hand over his prematurely retreating hair, clearly a touch uncomfortable. ‘Well, it ain’t me. It’s this new captain, Hess. He’s hoppin’ mad. Wants you on the Avarice.’
‘He’s got plenty of hands. What does he need with me?’
‘Don’t know. But he’s in a temper.’
Cartheron looked to the sky. ‘For the love of Poliel…’
‘I thought you resigned that berth,’ Urko said. ‘We’ve got the Twisted.’
Cartheron scratched his head, thinking. ‘Surly says we need the prize shares. The Twisted’s going nowhere right now.’
‘But with—’ His brother stopped himself, eyeing Dujek.
The marine took the hint and touched his brow. ‘See you on the Avarice?’
Cartheron gave the man a nod. ‘Yeah. See you there.’
The burly marine headed off; Cartheron turned to his brother. ‘So?’
‘Well, with the jokers gone we can push off, right?’
The jokers – their erstwhile bosses. It had been more than a fortnight now with no reappearance. It was looking as though Surly was right; they’d failed in whatever scheme they’d been attempting. He nodded again. ‘So?’
‘So, me ’n’ the crew, we’ve been talking. We think Falari’s the answer.’
‘I think you’ll find that the Falarans pretty much have that sewn up.’
‘We Napans can hold our own against them Falaran sailors!’
Cartheron raised his hands in surrender. ‘Yes, yes. I mean, you know what everyone says – that the Falarans have Mael himself in their pocket. That no invasion of the peninsula has ever succeeded.’
His brother had spotted a stone in the mud and picked it up, and was now rubbing it, squinting at it through one eye. ‘Well … it won’t be no invasion. We’d just sneak in, all quiet like.’
Cartheron threw up his hands. ‘Fine. Whatever. It’s a thought. But in the meantime we need to get the Twisted fitted. Okay? So get on it. I have to go.’ Urko popped the stone into his mouth and rolled it around there, then pulled it out and squinted at it anew. Cartheron felt his habitual impatience with his brother souring his stomach like acid. ‘Right?’ he asked.
Urko peered up, blinking. ‘Yeah. Fine.’ He waved him away.
Cartheron stormed off. Gonna drive me to drink, he is.
*
He found the Avarice a storm of activity, the deck piled high with lumber and nearly all hands busy helping the ship’s full-time carpenter. Cartheron gritted his teeth, thinking what they could accomplish on the Twisted with a tenth of the equipment. He searched among the crew for the captain only to find him in his cabin, his booted feet up on a table. He saluted. ‘Reporting for duty.’
Hess set down his glass of wine and looked him up and down, smoothing his long moustache. ‘About damned time. The Avarice is your vessel, understood? I want you here sunup till sundown.’
‘You have plenty of crew. I don’t see what I—’
‘Look over the rudder.’
‘I’m sure the ship’s carpenter is more familiar—’
‘Hold yourself available for consultation, steersman.’
Cartheron clenched his lips against any comment, gave a curt nod. ‘Very well, captain.’
Hess waved him off. ‘You have your duties, sailor.’
Cartheron headed out to find Keren, the ship’s carpenter.
Keren, known affectionately among all the crews as Fat Keren, as she possessed fine curves that all the male and some of the female sailors appreciated, was a damned fine carpenter. She just shook her head, hands on her wide hips. ‘Got all the help I need, Cartheron.’
‘And the rudder?’
‘Wood’s fine. Joins and tendons are tight. Tiller’s worn but strong. All fine. Got worse problems elsewhere,’ and she nodded aloft to the shrouds.
‘Then why…’
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.