The Devil And The Sea

They had plundered a ship carrying military payroll earlier that day and the captain doubled the crew's daily ration of rolanberry to celebrate. Reinbach sank his face into his cup and wondered whether or not he'd see any of that money. The longer you stay at sea, the more likely you are to get caught. Reinbach was fairly new to this brand of crime, but even he knew that. Since he was not the captain, he couldn't order the ship to Norg to offload this haul, or to one of the many Lamia-infested ratholes the Corsairs considered "sacred ground". Burying gold was a fool's endeavor anyway, Reinbach thought. If ever you bury gold, even in "sacred ground", you'll come back to empty coffers. There was an old pirate saying he had heard not long ago that applied to this. A little trust goes a long way. The less you use, the further you'll go. Reinbach hoped for Norg.

The ship swayed like a cork in the choppy sea, and the men's laughter and an impromptu musical performance of songs he didn't recognize drowned out the sound the ship made every time it lurched. Reinbach looked over at Sabriel's bunk and wondered what she was doing in all of this mayhem. One of his crewmates slammed his cup into Reinbach's, causing him to snap back to reality and lament a waste of perfectly good rolanberry. A fat, bald man with a tattoo'd head and a mouth full of rot smiled at him and raised his glass.

"A Corsair at last, boy!" He shouted, then gulped down the remainder of his cup. "Red Hanna's boy came back to us!"

(To be continued when I have more time.)

Reinbach looked up at the man, not saying anything.

"This your first boarding, innit?" The man sat at the table across from Reinbach, muscling over a man with his face planted in front of him. "I can tell. Better than smugglin', right? Can't believe you ever led a crew, boy. Men like me aboard, you'd've been chum." Reinbach smirked.

"Then you'd 'ave cut up Hanna's boy, wouldn't ye?" Reinbach asked. "Wouldn't wanna go an' do that, would ye?"

"I never liked Hanna much," The man said, grinning. "She owed me a mythril piece. Never did pay me back."

"I'm sure sh'was jus' busy," Reinbach said. The man laughed with a wheeze.

"Gettin' busy's how she had you, innit?" Reinbach rolled his eyes.

"So tell me, boy," The man started. "How did you keep that crew in line? Surely they must not've taken lightly to bein' ordered around by some whelpish, jumped-up cabin boy!"

"Lucky, I guess," Reinbach shrugged. "I waved m'muscle around an' nobody bothered t'call my bluff."

"Muscle?" The man laughed.

"My officers were mos'ly Galka." The man laughed harder and Reinbach thought the poor fellow was dying.

"You're alright, boy," The man clapped Reinbach on the shoulder. "Y'know, on account of this being your first plunder, you should find some way to remember it by. A token if you will."

"Oh?" Reinbach wondered. "Like wha'?" The man stood up and shrugged as he started to walk away.

"Hell if I know, kid." The man wheezed/laughed. "What, you expected something from me? Hanna still owes me that mythril piece, so now it's on you to pay up!" Reinbach couldn't help but laugh, but still waved a rude gesture at the man.

"Hey! What do y'think th'cap'n's gonna do next?" Reinbach called out as the man left. The man turned around and smiled his black smil

"Scuttlebutt is we're on a generally Norgish heading."

Reinbach couldn't help but smile.

Sabriel finished tying the… rope thing to the… peg thing and stood back wondering if she’d done it correctly, a senior deckhand came about moments later and only nodded in satisfaction instead of telling her to do it again.

Most of the crew kept their distance from Sabriel. When she had first come aboard with Reinbach the crew saw fit to “test her salt”, Sabriel bore the brunt of it without complaint, until someone had called her “Lady Leatherface”. It was the first and only time anyone dared to use that nickname and henceforth they settled on a derisive “My Lady” or simply “Lady”.

The grizzled first mate called out from across the deck suddenly;“Oi! Lady, drop that rope there and get up t’the nest ‘Bach’ll show you what it’s about.”

Sabriel hadn’t been holding a rope when he said that, yet she gave a low “Aye” and moments later was climbing swiftly up the rigging. Years as a Paladin made her just as hardy on sea as she was on land, though her hands were somewhat bloody from the coarse hemp of the rope, her palms were raw welts and her thumbs a bit worse off but she didn’t mind so much. Those types of hurts were a good distraction from more permanent hurts, the kind that people face in the middle of the night, with no work to distract them.

(whoo, will continue tomorrow night)

(>.> took longer to get around to than I thought)

Reinbach looked down from his work and gave a slight twist of a grin as Sabriel crested the mast and got her bearings. No words between the two were exchanged beyond Reinbach directing what to do or making a small correction along the way. The sun hung low on the horizon by the time the two finished their work, a shimmering orange petal slowly falling from the bough of the sky. The sea was comfortably calm.

The two rested on the mast now, the work with the rigging complete. It was a welcome rest for both of them after the hard work on deck. Several moments of silence passed between them before Sabriel spoke.

“Reinbach, you’ve been to Norg correct?” she slowly wrenched her gaze from the horizon, noticing how the evening light cast a warming glow on everything, making Reinbach look a bit more solemn than his usual countenance, or perhaps it was Sabriel’s imagination there.

“Aye. Once’r twice.” He offered no more.

“I’ve heard everyone talking about a ‘scuttlebut’ and a Norgish heading.”

“Aye, s’what th’rumor says. Why d’y’ask?”

“I’ve never been there myself. My kind finds no welcome there… ah.. I suppose the kind I used to be.”

Reinbach seemed more engaged now, pausing a moment to ensure his hat was safely seated before continuing. “Well, y’aint a paladin n’more, an’ if y’got money they won’t really care who y’was.”

“Is it as bad as I’ve heard there?”

Reinbach gave an incredulous look, “Bad, Whaddya mean bad?”

“Illicit activities or worse, or so I’ve heard.” Sabriel shrugged her shoulders as if she herself wasn’t sure what she was getting at. “Dangerous perhaps?”

“Look, love. Yer a pirate. Illicit activities’re yer bread an’butter now. All that really matters is it’s better’n sleepin’ next t’Stinking Goat, th’galka what ain’t washed since th’exodus from Zepwell.” He wore a wry smile at the absurdity of her asking.

Chagrined now, she turned her gaze back to the horizon and sighed the words, “I’m certain I smell none the better.”

Reinbach took the opening, “I’d rather smell you than ‘im.”

She looked again, half grinning herself, “Easy to say when you sit upwind. As for being a pirate… I became one when I boarded with you but I don’t exactly feel the part.”

“One night in Norg an’ you’ll feel anything y’want if y’can pay”

Sabriel paused a moment to shift in her seat, wincing as she woke the welts on her hands, she thought she could feel his eyes on her as she moved. When she had finished she spoke again. “A bath and some wine.. or what is it? Grog? Regardless. If they’ve that I’ll call it home for a day or three.”

“Plenty o’that t’be had. Maybe we can get Stinkin’ Goat t’bathe if we tell’im yer in there.”

A sudden feeling of daring washed over Sabriel, “He’d find no welcome, though I might find room for yourself.”

Reinbach grinned and was quick to respond as she expected, “Really now? Well, that’s mighty generous of ye, m’lady.”

Sabriel’s boldness was a fading mist now, “Yer- you’ve no plans to return to Muirnin at all?” Reinbachs grin vanished and she thought for a moment she had misspoken. “Not that I care who you share your bed with, but you seemed alright before.. everything. She didn’t seem to remember it all, she might take you back.”

It was Reinbach’s turn to adjust now, finding again his grip on the mast, “I don’ know. What ‘appens ‘appens.”

Sabriel could only agree, “Aye to that.” She started up and moved to climb down the rigging now. “I’ll be heading down then. How much longer are you up for?”

“No’much longer. I’ll be by when I get down.”

“If you don’t mind the smell.” Sabriel added warily. Wondering exactly what he meant when he said ‘I’ll be by’.

Reinbach’s laughter chased her down the rest of the way. He looked out then, the shimmering petal having doused itself now, leaving dark blue and purple smoke behind.