The twin moons slide behind a scud of cloud, darkening the night. On the beach, the pirates rouse and form lines, staggering into place, breaking celebration and campfires. Two ships stand just off the shore, and two small boats with armed men from Port Terval row towards the shore.
Dacien tosses another bucket of seawater on the already-hissing ashes of the last fire, and rushes off to join the rest of the crew.
Vendig says to Dacien, puffing on his pipe as he fits a sword blade into his hook, "Sittin' ducklings, we are, Mister Nettleburr..."
Dacien looses his spiked chain and swings it in a short arc, "Never seen a duckling that had a bite like this, Mister Vendig." He lets loose a short, sharp whistle and calls softly to Candra, "Try to keep all the men that are sober in one group, they'll be better off if a fight breaks out."
The two sleek ships take station off the Reckoning, within scorpion range, but not actively threatening. They look wary, not hostile.
Rhyll says, "Hmm...interesting they haven't fired. Perhaps this situation will call for some diplomacy."
Dacien stops at Rhyll's shoulder, "Diplomacy, sir?"
Rhyll says, "Yeah, ever heard of it?"
A tall, older, shaven-pated man stands in the bow of one of the approaching longboats. "Ahoy!" he calls. He leaps from the boat into the shallow waves, his men behind him, splashing through the water to the shore. By the man's surefooted gait, he's a born seaman. The Reith, Islanders by their look and dress, have weapons drawn, warily approaching. There are about ten warriors in the party, and the tall man. Another boat, with twenty warriors, paddles into the shallows behind the first one.
Candra says, "We could take this bunch, my Captain..."
Dacien says, "And take both the ships as well, sir."
"Who's your Captain, then?" the man says, hand on the hilt of his sea-saber.
Rhyll approaches the man with a smile on his face and says, "Captain Rhyll at your service sir. And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?"
Dacien elbows Candra in the ribs and whispers, "I guess he's gonna try some 'diplomacy' first."
The older man is grizzled, hook-nosed, and imperious-looking. He looks like he brooks no nonsense. "Baron Danmar Lyndag, Captain, of Port Terval and the islands south." He gestures around at the scene: looted ship, damaged Reckoning, drunken scurvy seadogs on the beach. "Tell me why I shouldn't hang you for piracy."
Rhyll says, "Piracy! Why, my ship and fine men were attacked by none other then the dreaded pirate, Draco! We were lucky we made it here alive!"
Baron Lyndag scowls. He indicates the two ships that have the Reckoning dead to rights. "Don't insult my intelligence, Captain, and perhaps you'll live through this night. A lie is tantamount to an admission."
Rhyll says, "I've heard much of you, Baron. That you are a fair man. I know how this must look, but I assure you we are the victums here. I am sure we can come to some terms?"
The Baron nods. "I did not come to pick a battle with you, my good buccaneer. I have my own fights to pick with the so-called King of the Yandar Isles, Bastien Diodore."
Rhyll says, "So I have heard. I have also heard he is recruiting ships to harass you and yours. A request I had the pleasure to decline whence last I was in Yandar."
Danmar Lyndag regards Rhyll with some appreciation. "You chose wisely. He is no true ally."
Rhyll nods to Danmar then says, "He dreams of his family's lost glory. Men of vision look to the future, not the past am I right, Baron?"
The Baron's men thirty men, sober and grim, clad in dark damp cloaks, armed with curved sabers, their arms tattooed in green, glower at the pirates, not hostile, nor particularly friendly.
The Baron, sixty summers if a day, but still lean and hard like an old tree, says to Rhyll, "You have the way of it. You are no friend to Bastien, then?"
One fat seaman, a boarding hook slung over his shoulder, scowls at Dacien, twirling the hairs of his wet mustache. Dacien looks back at the man with a smirk on his lips, twirling his chain like a watch-fob.
The fat seaman smirks at Dacien, as if in challenge.
Rhyll says, "I am my own man, Baron and I do no man's bidding, certainly not Bastien's." He gestures to his ship and says, "As you can see, Draco inflicted some injury to my ship, but I'd say he took the worst of the damage. As this island falls under your dominion, I would be happy to pay whatever port fees my ship has incurred."
The Baron says, "Keep what you've stolen, then. I've no use for whatever Sarry trash you've plundered from her. But the empty Queen Amoret belongs to me. Even a vessel as damaged as she can find some use."
Rhyll bows to the Baron then says, "It is yours of course, and five cases of fine brandy to boot, as my gift to you from one gentleman to another."
There's a hubbub from the Reckoning's crew. "What? She's our'n, Skipper! We fought f'r her!"
Dacien spins on the crew and snaps at them, "Keep yer gobs shut! The Cap'n makes the deals and you takes yer cut when it's given t'ye!"
Rhyll raises his hand for silence, "Our ship is the Reckoning and none other! Am I understood!"
Those who objected still their mouths, gloomily assenting to the deal.
Rhyll thinks to himself, Good thing we've stripped all we needed from that tub. He turns to Dace and says, "Have some men see to the brandy, Dace."
Dacien nods and starts off at a trot, "Aye, Captain." He says, "Candra, I'll be needin' a hand. Would ye be so kind?""
The Baron accepts in gratitude. "I can see you're a man of wisdom, Captain Rhyll. We came ashore to get supplies and sweet water, and we'll be calling on the village yonder to bear it back to my own vessel."
Dacien stops in his tracks and turns back to Rhyll, "Cap'n, we should send someone along so's Mister Mirko knows that these gentlemen are friendly."
The Baron asks, "Where's the crew of the Queen?"
Rhyll says, "That was one of their objectives to find out. I've sent three of my crew inland earlier to contact the village, but strangely, they haven't returned yet."
Dacien returns to his task and trots off to the brandy stores.
Lyndag says, "That's odd. The folk of Azora village are neighborly. Unless they met with those Sarries on the loose."
Rhyll says, "Would you mind if myself and a small contingent of my men accompany you?"
Dacien returns quickly toting two cases of brandy, followed by Candra hauling another three. They sit their cargo at the water's edge and hurry back to join Rhyll and the Baron.
Baj and Talon descend a small ladder, from the small room on the second floor of the Warrior's Shrine. In the nave of the shrine, a small, low-ceilinged dark room lit by guttering fat lamps, squat the survivors of the village: about two dozen men, women and children, filthy, starveling, desperate. In a corner nearby, flat on his back, is a wounded old man in a tattered Sarry blue coat, his brow damp with sweat. The room is close with the stink of unwashed bodies and burning lamp fat.
At one end of the nave is the sacred shield of Inglorian, the symbol of his protection. At the other end, the thick main doors have been barricaded against all entry with a pile of timbers and scattered furnishings from within the shrine.
Talon approaches the old man to check on his condition.
Tully helps Mera down the ladder behind Baj and Talon, then hurries behind Talon. "There's old Fitch, Talon."
As he checks the man's vitals Talon says to the men in the room, "Any idea how many of them there are out there?"
The town elderman, Merno, replies to Talon, "Too many, son, too many."
Fitch is in a poor condition, his breathing shallow, his eyes closed. A wicked slash up his arm extends from his thumb to his shoulder, and the wound is rank with gangrene, even though it's but a frew hours old. He is warm with fever. He blinks as Talon touches him, eyes barely opening. "Evenin', young'un," the old man says. "The King send you?"
Talon says to the man, "We're here to help. Try to rest and save your strength."
Baj moves to the nave and kneels before the shield, muttering softly, "If it be my time, let me die as a warrior that I may sit at your table without shame among those who have gone before. Let me do no harm to these people who have done no harm to me and let me face death with your courage in my heart."
The simple Shield, bronze and tattered, glints in the lamplight before Baj, fastened on the wall before the plain Warrior's altar.
Fitch says, perhaps deliriously, "Knew he'd send someone for us..." He pats Talon's arm, reassuringly.
Talon mentally counts the abled-bodied men in the room and looks to see what kind of arms they are bearing. There are three such men, unarmed aside from farm implements, looking unsteady and weak from hunger. It seems the village's warriors have already been struck down. Tully, the youth from the Queen, has a crossbow and is armed with two swords.
Talon turns to Baj and says, "We can't stay here too long. We must find a way back to the ship."
Tully says to Talon, regarding Fitch, "What can you do for him?"
Baj holds a moment before the Shield and then rises, walking to Talon's side, "I agree, but to leave this building is certain death."
Mera says, showing her former composure. "We are more clever than those cursed things..."
Baj turns to her, "And when has intelligence ever triumphed over superior numbers, speed, and weapons?"
Talon turns back and says, "Every time Baj, every time." He turns to Tully and says "Give him the medicine I gave you. Also a cold compress if you can find one."
Baj smirks at Talon, "I shall remind you of that, if we live long enough to meet the Dragha that killed the last Captain of the Reckoning."
Tully sets to work over his friend, comforting the man. Fitch exclaims, loudly, "Th'King sent'em, boy! We're goin' home! Goblets o'Mazirin Red!"
Talon says, "Merno, is this the only entrance to this building?"
Merno nods. "The shrine is the most secure in the village, Talon." He adds, hesitantly, "You have been attacked by the Devourers, my friends. I fear your fate will match that of poor Fitch there."
Talon says, "That's why we need to get back to our ship. We have a priest of the Lady onboard who might just be able to heal us."
Merno says, looking over his desperate villagers, "You'll take us with you..."
Talon nods and says, "We can't leave you here that's for sure."
Baj frowns and looks the old man in the eyes, "I will not leave you to those accursed things while I still draw breath!"