Chapter Twenty

Eusari stood on the Logan pier for the first time in seventeen years, a place she long believed she would die before ever setting eyes upon once more. Much more she stared up at her ship. It was a four-masted frigate, fast and full of firepower. The outer hull was dressed in copper plating, much in the same design as another ship she had sailed with long ago. Sippen promised the low draft would give her speed, even after the extra deck space was filled with guns. She wanted lots of firepower.

“It looks brand new,” she told Sippen.

“It uh... is. Is thuh... that a pruh... problem?”

“No. It’s perfect,” she said. This man really knew his ships and how to pick them. “What’s its name?”

“It’s nuh... not christened.” He pulled out a dusty old bottle from his satchel, carefully wrapped in burlap so as not to break prematurely.

Eusari eyed the bottle suspiciously. “I thought all that vintage was gone,” she said.

“There’s nuh... not much left, and thu... then it’s guh... gone like us.”

“Shame to waste a bottle like that on a ship.”

“He wuh... would uh... approve.”

“Yes, he would. You guys always ran through this stuff like it would last forever, but I guess wine, like people, isn’t meant to collect dust on shelves. Braen knew that, didn’t he?”

“He duh... did.”

“So, what do I do? There’s no rope. Do I just throw it at the keel? What if I miss?”

“Don’t muh... miss,” Sippen replied with a smile.

Eusari reared her arm back, grasping the bottle by the neck. She heaved it forward, sending it smashing against the hull.

“What’s huh... her name?”

“Reprisal.”

“Why nuh... not vengeance?”

“Because I’m taking back what’s mine.” She led Sippen up the brow, stepping onto the deck. The first thing she noticed was the smell. “The lacquer hasn’t cured,” she observed, “that means we’re vulnerable to fire.”

“Don’t luh.... let it catch fire, then,” he said with a grin.

Peter and Krill noticed they’d arrived and hobbled over.

“She’s nearly seaworthy, ma’am,” her first mate informed. “Once we reach the lake, you should shake her down and run some paces.”

“I agree. You look better, Peter,” she lied. He looked like all the hells in one, but at least he smelled better.

“Thank you, but I feel awful. The tremors finally stopped, though, so I’m nearly seaworthy as well.”

She looked around. “The crew?”

“The blackheartiest band of misfit killers you’ve ever met, ma’am, but each knows their way around a sail, a grommet, or a braided line of hemp.”

She turned to Krill. “And the weapons, Gunnery Sergeant?”

“Ready to blow our foes into whale kibble, Cap’n!”

“Need I remind you my boys are with our foes, Krill?” she snapped. “I don’t want to hit the powder storage by mistake.”

“Aw, you hurt me feelings, mum! You know right well I can sight guns as well as I can count all ten of me fingers.”

“You only have eight.”

He held up two fists with grin, invisibly showing her is missing middle two. “Just wanted you to recount them, Cap’n!” With a laugh, he hobbled away.

“I forgot how irritating he gets underway,” she muttered.

“I thuh... thought it was fuh... funny,” Sippen admitted.

“You always do. I swear though, this mission had better be a short one. What are the captain’s quarters like?” she asked.

He said nothing, only grinned like he had a secret.

After years living aboard She Wolf, she wasn’t prepared for the spacious cabin aboard Reprisal. The room itself seemed carved from a single piece of dark wood stained smooth and the floor covered in thick rugs.

“Seems like most of this could’ve been storage,” she said upon entering.

“If we nuh… need the space, we’ll yuh… use it.”

“It’s beautiful. After we no longer need it, we should get full value when we sell.” Eusari noticed a dark form hanging in the corner. Turning slowly, she recognized a black fur cloak, terminating as a wolf’s head for a hood. She raised an eyebrow and Sippen nodded. Neatly folded and placed on a chair nearby, she found leather armor and a brace of knives. “Out of retirement, then?” she asked.

“Out of ruh… retirement,” he agreed. “Duh… don’t worry. I luh… let out the seams. It will fuh… fit.”

She raised an eyebrow and shot him a look. She needed it of course, but how dare he point it out.

Sippen departed quietly, and she stripped, catching a glimpse of her naked self in a long mirror. Am I ready for this? she thought. I’m so out of shape, what if I have to fight? She slipped on the leather breeches, sucking in to pull them over her belly. They’ll fit better as the journey progresses, she thought, pulling on the jerkin and thankful for the extra room. She placed the knives in their homes, pausing and frowning as she counted. One in particular was missing. She felt the inside of her wrist and the pocket it fit. This will be a problem, she knew. She had always depended on that one the most.

Eusari stared again at the cloak. It seemed silly now looking at it, and she wondered why she chose such a symbol when she was younger. To strike fear, she knew, but there must have been more. Gelert had taught her that. Gelert. Her wolf companion for such a brief, but needed, time. After his death, she swore she would never bond with another. She lifted it from the hook and pulled it over her head, setting the breakaway clasps to her shoulders. Turning, she took one more look at herself in the mirror. The woman staring back was older and more tired than she remembered, but the she-wolf had returned.

Robert stood on deck, waiting for his mother to return topside. Reprisal, she had named it, an odd name from a woman who preached calm forgiveness his entire life. Sippen had already returned, so she shouldn’t be too long. He wondered if he’d have the nerve to ask her about the name.

Sippen noticed Charleigh tinkering with the same box Robert had noticed before. He moved closer to hear their conversation.

“Wuh… what is it?”

“This?” she replied. “It’s supposed to be a trap, but I can’t quite get it to work.”

“Let me see,” he said, turning it over in his hands, examining its workings and clicking his tongue as he did. Giving up, he handed it over. “I can’t figure out how it opens.”

Robert noticed he hadn’t stuttered. Sippen was in his zone.

Charleigh smiled and said to Robert, “Set it on the deck, then send in a current of air.”

Frowning, he dispatched a thin tendril. It poked and prodded, finally finding a way in. The gadget popped open, sending out dozens of caltrops and marbles onto the wood.

Sippen’s eyes grew wide. “It’s marvelous!”

“It doesn’t work,” Charleigh said, defeated.

“It looks like it works fine to me,” Robert said.

“Oh, it works, but not how I intended. No one else should be able to open it but Marita, and we can’t use it in a fight until they can’t use it against us.”

“I see,” Sippen said thoughtfully. Now that it was open, he could see the inner workings and studied them closely. “It’s like puh... picking a luh... lock?”

“Yes.”

“That’s your problem, then,” Robert suggested. “Lockpicking is simple and orderly, too easy to crack. You need to rearrange the pins, adding a hinge that drops them all again if the wrong order is tapped.”

Charleigh nodded. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“When were you going to tell me?” Eusari asked from behind Robert.

He looked up, surprised to see his mother wearing fighting leathers, knives, and a wolf fur cloak. “Tell you what?”

“How long have you been able to do that?”

“Only in the past couple of days. I guess I figured some things out by accident, and Sebastian has been helping me learn more.”

“I see.”

“But not surprised?” he asked.

“No, not surprised given who your father was. I only hoped you’d be spared.”

“Spared? I don’t understand.”

“For seventeen years I’ve prayed the gods kept this power from you. It comes with responsibility, doesn’t it Sebastian?”

The man nodded gravely.

“I do want to learn more about it,” Robert admitted.

“You’ll get your chance. I’m sure he’ll guide you further in training once you arrive in Eston.” Turning to the farmhand, she added, “A pirate vessel going into war is no place for you, Sebastian, and I will feel better knowing you are there to protect my boy.”

“Eston?” Robert asked. “I can’t go there now, not with Franque and Krist in trouble.”

“I’ll find the boys, but not until after I introduce you to Amash. You have a lot to learn that only Sebastian, and now also the Dreamers, can teach. Learn as much from them as you can, and I promise to visit after we return.”

“Okay.” Robert agreed.

All eyes on deck turned as a woman walked across the brow. “Who’s that?” Robert asked.

“Your cousin, Anne. She’s a constable and here to make this a legal pirate hunt,” his mother said. “Now, if you all don’t mind, I have work to do. This is a rough crew and many of the men may not respect my first mate. They remember him only as the town drunk, and so I’ve got to bear the burden of leadership.”

As Eusari walked away, Sippen stared after her. “She luh... learned that fruh... from Braen. He was a luh... leader and his cruh... crew loved him.”

“I still can’t believe she’s a pirate, much less a captain,” Robert said.

“Thuh... the best.” Sippen agreed.

“That’s the last of the crew,” Peter Longshanks shouted upon Anne’s arrival. On his command the lines crew pulled away the brow and tossed off lines. The ship immediately began to drift. “Sailing master! Take control!”

At mention of her new title, Marita stepped forward with a grin. “Just like the good ol’ days,” she said with a wink to Sippen. “Triple the lashings and add storm lines!” she shouted to the crew.

The grumblings began at once.

“Triple lashings?” someone asked.

“Storm lines?” demanded another.

Her face grew dark, suddenly serious and quite determined if not angry. “I’ll give an order once,” she growled, “but remember I’ve been pirating since many of you were suckling your mother’s teets!” Several wisps of air sprang outward at once, smacking each crew member on the butt with a loud snap. “I don’t have to explain myself, but when I blow wind in those sails, prepare to be blown over the side, or hanging from a yardarm to secure a flapping canvas! Either way is fine with me, as long as you do as I say!”

Every hand snapped to, tying off storm lines and lashing grommets with an extra wrap. Robert could tell by their faces none of them had sailed with an emotant. As soon as Reprisal had turned toward the harbor entrance, each man grabbed ahold of a storm line.

Sippen stood hurriedly. “I nuh… know her,” he said. “Gruh… grab on.”

“You’re right,” Charleigh agreed, wrapping her forearms to the rail. “She’s about to show off.”

All at once every sail filled with air, so much of it all three masts groaned against the strain. The ship, much to the chagrin of the harbor master, abruptly lurched and shot through the entrance. In a heartbeat, Reprisal sailed Lake Norton.

Robert looked at Eusari, standing next to Marita as the woman’s arms conducted a silent orchestra. His mother, usually melancholy, beamed underneath the hood. She grinned and stared straight ahead, loving every minute of her renewed time at sea.