“Uziraff Fireblade is in the back, but I wouldn’t go in there if I was you.”
Baylee looked at the whiskered barkeep behind the scarred counter of the Fickle Mermaid. The place was one the ranger vaguely remembered from a time when he and Golsway had been through the area to talk to Uziraff before. The decor was bawdy, featuring a few dozen carved mermaid statues in various forms of debauchery with mermen, humans, and even unicorns. All of the statues had been glued to whatever surface they sat on to keep the tavern’s patrons from walking off with them.
“And why not?” Baylee asked.
“He’s talking business with someone.”
From behind the door to the barkeep’s left came the sound of blows being struck, leaving no illusions about what was going on.
“Talking?” Baylee asked. “Or listening?”
The barkeep gave an evil grin. “Uziraff owns the Fickle Mermaid. I don’t think anyone could make him listen in here.”
Baylee walked around the end of the bar as someone groaned in pain.
The barkeep reached for a belaying pin he kept under the counter. He fisted it and came at Baylee. “I told you stay out of this.”
Before the man knew it, Civva Cthulad had his long sword at the end of the man’s nose. “Unless,” the old ranger said in a calm voice, “you wish to learn to start breathing through your ears, step away.”
The barkeep went cross-eyed looking at the unwavering sword tip. Conversation across the rest of the bar died as heads turned to the counter. A few men got up, their hands going to their hilts.
“Gentlemen,” Cthulad said, addressing the crowd, “I assure you taking part in this would be your greatest mistake. I will kill the first man to interfere with us just to let the ones who follow have no surprise what their fates may be.”
“This isn’t exactly the quiet kind of entrance I had in mind when we came here,” Baylee said in a low voice.
“You dealt the play when you threw the dice,” the old ranger replied. “You could have waited till Uziraff was finished with his business.”
But Baylee couldn’t have, because he thought he knew what kind of business it was that Uziraff was conducting. He watched as the men in the bar stood their ground, wary of Cthulad’s sword. Baylee placed his hand on the doorknob and found it locked. He knelt and used a set of lock picks he carried with him, then passed through.
The room on the other side of the door looked nothing like the rest of the bar. A few books lined one wall, a hodgepodge of subjects, titles, and authors. Baylee doubted that Uziraff had read any of them. Niches held other vases and objects d’art, none of them worth much, actually on display in the room for their visual impact. Twisted creatures held men in their grip, sometimes even whole ships. A model of a treant held two humans in its branches while fire surrounded its base.
Generous in floor space, the room held a large desk, two couches, and a half dozen chairs in front of the desk. The first time Baylee had seen the office, he thought it hadn’t fit the pirate’s reputation.
But today, seeing Uziraff with his knee in the chest of a young man sprawled across that desk, a lead-filled cestus covering one hand, Baylee thought that it looked more representative of the pirate.
“Who dares interrupt me?” Uziraff roared, turning to look over his shoulder at the door. He was a little more than six feet tall, bronzed from the sea and the wind, and his dirty blond hair was pulled back out of his face. Wide gold hoops dangled from his ears. His beard was full, but kept short, following the angles of his face. He wore a red silk shirt and black, heavy-weight breeches that tucked into roll-top boots.
The boy’s one eye that wasn’t swelled shut stared in rounded terror. Blood covered his bruised and battered face, and ran down his neck. Two men held his arms spread out at his sides.
“You know me,” Baylee said. He gestured for Xuxa. The azmyth bat leaped from behind him.
Uziraff didn’t move from his victim. The pirate’s face twisted in a grimace. “Fannt Golsway’s whelp. I’ve heard the old mage finally got himself killed.”
Xuxa landed under one of the supports across the ceiling, hanging upside down. She kept her wings open for immediate movement if necessary. Be careful, she advised.
“Get off that boy,” Baylee ordered.
Uziraff didn’t move. “This boy stole from me. I was only teaching him a lesson, and deciding whether I should take a hand for my trouble as well.”
“And this is the man you’re going to deal with?” Cthulad asked quietly, pulling the door closed to the main bar.
“I’ll not trouble to tell you again,” Baylee said in a cold voice.
“You dare to come here and tell me how to run my affairs?” Uziraff laughed, joined by his men, who started to close in, drawing their weapons.
As quick as thought itself, Cthulad stepped forward. His long sword swept out before him in a series of strokes. Three men lost their weapons, drawing back bleeding hands.
Uziraff abandoned his victim, reaching for the cutlass in the red sash at his waist. “I’ll suffer no such treatment of my authority under my roof, old man.”
Cthulad turned to face the freebooter. “The boy here wants you left alive. I’ll humor him as long as I am able.” His long sword rose to an en garde position. “Though, by nature, I am not a fanciful man, I must warn you.”
“Who are you, old man, to come to me in such a threatening manner?” Uziraff demanded.
“I am Civva Cthulad, justifier, a known warrior and general of armies. I was raised on combat, schooled in warfare, and have kept a sword as my constant companion for as long as I can remember.”
“I have heard of you, Justifier, but usually you are with an army in one nation or the other of the Dalelands. Here you are just one man. Perhaps only a breath short of dying.”
“And perhaps even further than that,” Cthulad challenged.
Xuxa spread her wings and shrieked, startling several of the pirates into dodging back. Do not forget about me, Uziraff Fireblade. No one will touch Baylee without paying full measure.
“Let the boy go,” Baylee commanded.
“You’re not even armed,” Uziraff protested.
“That can change. There happen to be a number of swords laying here on the ground. I’m proficient with any style of them.”
“What do you want?” Uziraff asked. “I know you didn’t come here to save this miserable wretch.” He nodded at the boy.
“I came here about the pictograph you found and took to Golsway.”
Uziraff’s interest showed on his face. “I thought there might be more than Golsway let on.” He gestured to the two men holding the boy across his desk.
The men released the boy, who stumbled out of the room. He shot Baylee a look of thanks.
Uziraff took a bar towel from a nearby chair and wiped the blood from the desk. “Sit down and we’ll talk.”
Baylee took a chair and sat in front of the desk. “I want to find the area where the pictograph came from.”
“That can be costly,” Uziraff said.
“If it’s too costly,” Baylee said, “then I’ll go elsewhere.”
Uziraff leaned across the desk and put a thumb to his chest. “I sent that pictograph to Golsway. How many other men do you think knows where it was even found?”
“I don’t know,” Baylee said, “but I can start by checking to see who disappeared or turned up dead around that time. It could be that I’ll discover that person was the first to find the pictograph. And it could be that the pictograph was offered to other buyers before you ended up with it.”
“Golsway trained you well,” Uziraff said.
“Yes.” Baylee returned the pirate’s level gaze. Can you read any part of his thoughts?
As always, Xuxa replied, Uziraff’s mind is closed to me. But I do sense some of the emotion connected to the pictograph. He possesses a lot of excitement about it And he is knows more than he is telling. I do sense some anxiety as well.
“What can you pay?” the pirate asked.
“Five hundred gold pieces,” Baylee said.
Uziraff broke into a loud booming laugh. “For a trip such as that, I’d require nothing less than ten thousand gold pieces.”
“For that, if I had ten thousand gold pieces,” Baylee said, “I could buy a brand new cog just like yours.” He stood up from the chair.
“I’m not just selling the boat ride,” Uziraff said. “That you could get anywhere. You’re also buying the information as to where that pictograph was found.”
“Mayhap,” Baylee said, “I’ll be able to find them both, for considerably less than you offer.” He walked to the door. Tell me, Xuxa, is there any weakening to his resolve?
Uziraff is curious and anxious, the azmyth bat answered.
Then there must be another source that could give us the location of the shipwreck.
Yes.
“Wait,” Uziraff said.
Baylee turned back toward the pirate.
Uziraff spread his hands. “Surely you can offer me a better deal than five hundred gold.”
Baylee waited, staring at the man. “Eight hundred gold, and our passage is included so that we get our meals. You’re leaving me precious little to get back to Waterdeep on.”
“Both of you are going? Then the price is—”
“The price is more than fair,” Cthulad said.
For a moment Uziraff bridled at the harsh bite of the other man’s tone. Then he sat back in the chair and grumbled, “As you wish.”
Xuxa? Baylee asked.
His curiosity is showing most, the azmyth bat answered. Nothing duplicitous.
“How soon can you be ready to leave?” Baylee asked.
“Now it’s a rush job as well?” Uziraff laughed and shook his head. “Really, Baylee, you’re well on your way to being as insufferable as Golsway himself.”
“How soon?”
“Two hours.”
“Fine,” Baylee said. “We’ll meet you at Windchaser.” He headed for the door.
“Don’t try to beat out my price, Baylee Arnvold,” the pirate called. “We have a deal.”
“I’ll be there.”
“And bring my gold with you.”
“He’s not a man to trust.”
Baylee glanced at Cthulad. “Not if we had another choice. But it could be that finding anyone who knows anything of the pictograph here in Caer Callidyrr will be near to impossible. The people in this circle don’t like to give away their information, and they hate to admit they know less than you. Just the act of asking questions will set other hounds loose on us.” He peered toward the docks fronting the mouth of the natural harbor.
Broken rock littered the coastline, some of them in the distance drawing white water. In the winter, the winds whipped over the harbor brutally, shutting down most avenues of trade except for the most desperate. The smell of brine was thick in the cool air.
Baylee led the way through the uneven line of porches fronting the shops around the harbor area. It felt good to be moving, not cloistered away aboard the cargo ship anymore. The encounter with Uziraff had left a bad taste in his mouth.
We are being followed, Xuxa said.
I know, Baylee replied. I picked them up as we left the Fickle Mermaid. Keep an eye on them to make sure they don’t get too close.
“We have company,” Cthulad said.
Baylee nodded. “They’ll be with us till we show up at Windchaser. Until then, we’ll take a stop here, then find a good lunch. You won’t have such a thing when we’re aboard Windchaser.”
The building was a narrow expanse between a leather-working shop and a jewelry shop. Hand-lettering across the glass read Vlayn’s Potions and Potables.
“What do we need here?” Cthulad said.
“The wreck is under water somewhere,” Baylee said. “We’re going to need a way to get down to it.”
“So you’re going to buy a potion of water breathing?”
“It does seem advisable.”
Cthulad nodded. “Don’t forget to pick up a few healing potions. With Uziraff along, I think we’ll need them.”
Baylee halted inside the door to the apothecary. “Where will you be?”
“I spotted a weapons shop a little further down,” the old ranger said. “While you haggle over the potions, I’ll see if there’s anything there we might need. You still don’t have a sword. I thought I might find a present for you.”
“I don’t usually like to carry a weapon,” Baylee said. “There are ways to deal with problems rather than violence.”
“These are not usual times,” Cthulad said. “And we are dealing with Uziraff and his sense of greed. Just the—the three of us.”
Listen to him, Baylee, Xuxa urged.
“Yes,” Cthulad added. “I am an expert in these matters. Uziraff will not be satisfied until blood has been spilled at this point.”
Baylee nodded.
“What would you prefer?”
“A composite long bow,” Baylee said after a moment. “Tilmentus, the weaponsmith there, makes a good, collapsible bow that stores in a quiver of arrows. Tell him its for me and he’ll know the draw of the arrows and the pull adjustment. Also tell him that I want sheaf arrows, three dozen in a side-by-side back quiver, with a half dozen of those already set up as incendiaries. A bag of caltrops. A spring-bladed parrying dagger. A good combat knife. And a long sword. And a brace of throwing knives.”
Cthulad raised his eyebrows slightly. “Is there anything else?”
Baylee regarded him. “Only if you think there is anything I’ve forgotten.”
“No, that should be quite sufficient. I’ll return as quickly as I can.”
“Our splitting up is going to worry the people tailing us somewhat, so try to stay in sight.”
Cthulad tossed him a quick salute and walked toward the weapon shop.
Baylee entered the shop. It was dark and mysterious, smelling of arcane flowers and herbs. Most people who entered it would have been intimidated by the four skeleton displays hanging from hooks on the walls. They would have felt even more menaced if they knew Vlayn could have called them forth to defend him if he needed it.
“Baylee!” the heavyset apothecary called out from behind the counter. “It has seemed like forever since I have seen you last, my friend.”
“And it’s felt twice as long,” Baylee responded. Then he settled in to haggle over the potions. Vlayn was a friendly merchant, but he always drove a hard bargain.
“You are Junior Civilar Cordyan Tsald?”
Cordyan studied the old sailor who stood before her. He was a shriveled brown nut of a man, his iron-gray hair in disarray. She had barely arrived at Caer Callidyrr when she’d been accosted. Her hand rested on her sword hilt. Her men had only begun disembarking. “Who are you, and how is it you know my name?”
“I am Floon, Junior Civilar, merely a day laborer hoping to earn an honest day’s wages. I was charged with awaiting your arrival and getting a message to you.” The old sailor seemed uncomfortable as members of the watch surrounded him.
“Who charged you with such a task?”
“An old man. A warrior by the look of him. One who’s been in a number of battles. He said to tell you Civva Cthulad, but I don’t know for sure that he gave me a true name.”
Cordyan swapped looks with Calebaan. She looked back at the old sailor. “What was the message?”
“That the person you’re looking for is aboard Windchaser.”
“A ship?”
“Aye, lady, and a bad one at that. She’s under the command of Uziraff Fireblade. And a worse pirate there’s never been.”
“Where might I find this ship?” Cordyan asked. She felt some constriction at the back of her throat. Why had Baylee turned to someone like Uziraff Fireblade?
“Windchaser’s already left,” the sailor answered.
“Where?”
“Sailing north,” the man answered. “I talked to some of her crew before she left as the old warrior suggested, helping them load the supplies for a few silver pieces. They talked of going to Mintarn.”
“What’s in Mintarn?”
“Lady, I could not say.”
“Thank you.” Cordyan reached into her purse for a few coins.
Floon held up his hands. “I could not. The old warrior, he more than adequately paid me for my time.”
“You would know Windchaser, though, wouldn’t you?”
The man nodded.
“And you’re familiar with the sea in this area, and Mintarn?”
“Aye, lady.”
“Then perhaps I could hire you to guide us. Our captain is not overly familiar with these waters.”
The man smiled and nodded. “It’s been many a day since I was out for a real sail, lady. I’d appreciate the opportunity to be of service.”
“Then you’re hired, Floon.” Cordyan turned to her sergeant. “Hammal.”
The sergeant turned to face her.
“Get the supplies loaded quickly. We need to cast off again at once.”
The man gave her a crisp salute. Then he turned and started shouting orders to the other members of the watch.
“How long ago did Windchaser leave?” Cordyan asked.
“She set sail three hours ago, lady.”
“Have we a chance of catching her?”
The man hesitated, then shook his head. “She’s a cog, lady, much like your own. But Uziraff has her set up to sail in these islands. She is as fleet as they come.”
“Then we’ll do the best we can. I’ll have you taken to the captain. Tell him I want you to take a look over the provisions. If there is anything we need to purchase that we don’t have, let him know to buy it.” She called for a nearby guard and sent the old sailor off with the man. She turned to Calebaan, who was regarding the sea with amusement. “Why would Cthulad tip us off as to where they were going and who they were going with?”
“There is the possibility he lied,” Calebaan pointed out.
“Do you think that’s probable? You spent more time with him than I did.”
“No. I said that in jest. With Civva Cthulad’s real name being used, you know the message was given by him. And he is not a man prone to lying to escape trouble.”
“He might, if he thought we were offering him or Baylee any harm, yet did not want to harm us either.”
Calebaan regarded her. “You’ve been given too much time to think. What do your instincts tell you?”
Cordyan took a deep breath and let it out. “Only that Cthulad realized Baylee was getting them in over their heads and he guessed that we might be following.”
“So he’s using what he has available to manage the situation as best as he can.” Calebaan nodded. “Now that sounds more like the man I talked with.”
“Then let us hope this three hour lead Windchaser has doesn’t get us there too late to help them,” Cordyan said.