Corsair

having you around again.”

“I will,” he promised her.

FIVE

19 Eleint, the Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)

Seadrake sailed on the morning tide three days after Geran’s visit to the Erstenwold storehouse. As promised, Mirya and her daughter, Selsha, came down to the wharves to see them off, along with a couple hundred prominent Hulburgans and curious onlookers, including Nimessa Sokol and Harmach Grigor, who was driven down from Griffonwatch in an open carriage. Geran enjoyed the fanfare until Hamil punctured his mood by pointing out that all of the Moonsea would know of Seadrake’s sailing within five days. They wouldn’t be surprising any enemies for the foreseeable future.

The breeze was light and fitful; the caravel nosed her way slowly past the spectacular Arches guarding Hulburg’s harbor. In the morning light the soaring columns of stone seemed to glow with an emerald luminescence. As Hulburg receded behind them, the breeze freshened and Seadrake began to throw back a small wave from her bow.

“Master Galehand, make your course south by southwest,” Geran told the dwarf. “Hold that for an hour or so, and then bring her around to a northwesterly course. We’re going to keep in sight of land and work westward until we pass Thentia. I doubt Kraken Queen is still on this shore, but we might as well make sure she isn’t.”

“Aye, Lord Geran,” the dwarf replied. He shouted orders at the sailors on deck, followed by colorful oaths in Dwarvish as the untried crew set about their work.

Geran retreated to the lee side of the quarterdeck and left Galehand to supervise the watch, leaning against the rail to observe the crew at work while he considered his course. Sarth Khul Riizar climbed up onto the quarterdeck and glanced at the town falling into the distance behind them. The tiefling was an intimidating sight, with ruddy red skin and black horns sweeping back from his forehead. At his belt hung a long scepter of iron marked with golden glyphs. Geran knew they held powerful spells of battle and ruin; Sarth was a talented sorcerer. “Hardly any breeze to speak of,” Sarth observed. “We might as well have waited for better winds.”

“I was anxious to begin.” Geran straightened up and clasped Sarth’s arm. “I’m glad you decided to join us, Sarth.”

“It’s nothing.” Sarth shrugged. “I am happy to be of service, but I fear that I have no spells to summon a more favorable wind.” Five months ago Sarth had emerged as one of the heroes of the Battle of Lendon’s Dike. The people of Hulburg knew he’d battled furiously on their behalf, and few held his devilish appearance against him. From what little Geran had gathered of Sarth’s travels and adventures before his arrival in Hulburg, that was an unusual circumstance for the tiefling to find himself in.

“The wind suits me well enough for now. No one else is sailing any faster than we are today,” Geran replied. With the wind out of the west, they’d need to tack back and forth across it to beat their way westward. “But since you mention spells … do you have any means for divining the location of Kraken Queen?”

“Not without some tangible connection to the ship. Find me something or someone that was actually part of the ship, and I might be able to discern the direction and distance to her.”

“What about Nimessa Sokol? Should we go back to Hulburg for her?”

“I spoke with her already. She was held on Whitewing, and didn’t set foot on the pirate vessel. And even if she had, it might not have left a strong enough psychic impression. It takes time for such a link to form and grow strong, and Nimessa was only in the pirates’ keeping for a few hours.”

“I suppose that would have been too easy,” Geran said. “Well, we might find something you can use at the cove where Whitewing was sacked.”

It took Seadrake most of the day to work her way along the deserted coastlands between Hulburg and Thentia. Geran remained on deck, learning the feel and sounds of the ship, watching the crew handle the sails, and watching the sailing master and the other officers handle the crew. Two hours before sunset, Seadrake rounded the last cape and came within sight of Whitewing’s burned skeleton.

There was no sign of the pirate ship. “Damn,” Geran muttered to himself. He hadn’t really expected to find Kraken Queen here after eight days, but it certainly would have been convenient. He looked over to Worthel, who’d replaced Galehand on watch. “Drop anchor here and lower a boat, Master Worthel. I’m going to have a look ashore.”

“Aye, Lord Geran,” Worthel said. He frowned under his broad mustache of red-streaked gray. “But I don’t think there’s much to see there. She’s burned down to her keel.”

A quarter hour later, Geran, Sarth, Hamil, and Kara waded ashore from the ship’s boat. They inspected the burned wreck of Whitewing, and the scattered remains of the Sokol ship’s cargo, still strewn across the pebbled shore. Kara carefully studied the tracks and refuse left behind by the pirate crew, pacing back and forth across the cove as she followed the story she read there. Geran knew of no better tracker on the north side of the Moonsea, and he waited for her to finish. If there was anything to be found in the cove, she would find it. After a time, Kara brushed her hands off against the mail aprons of her armor and rejoined him. Her eyes gleamed with the uncanny azure of her spellscar in the fading light of the day.

“What do you make of it?” Hamil asked her.

“They left five or six days ago,” Kara answered. “I make their numbers at eighty or ninety, mostly humans with a few orcs and ogres. Most of the crew slept on the beach for the two or three days they stayed here.” That was not unusual; most captains, pirate or merchant, preferred to make camp ashore if conditions permitted. As long as the crew posted a few sentries, it was undoubtedly safer than continuing to sail through the hours of darkness, and most vessels plying the waters of the Moonsea or the Sea of Fallen Stars offered very little in the way of accommodations for their crews.

“Did you find anything that might have belonged to Kraken Queen?” Sarth asked. “A scrap of canvas, some discarded rope, an empty water cask?”

“Not very much, I’m afraid,” Kara answered. She held up a battered old wooden baton about two feet in length-a belaying pin. “I did find this near where they had their ship drawn up. It’s the best I could do for something that was part of the pirate ship … but there are several fresh graves over there in the brush above the high-water mark.”

Geran nodded. “I killed at least two men when I fought my way out of the camp.” He didn’t think he’d mortally wounded anyone else, but perhaps the pirate captain had decided to settle some question of discipline during Kraken Queen’s stay in the cove. The bodies might serve Sarth’s requirement, but he kept that thought to himself. They were too near the Highfells and the domain of the lich Aesperus to unearth corpses, regardless of what they intended to do with the remains. Better to leave the pirates’ dead in peace.

“Let me have a look.” Sarth held out his hand for the pin and examined it closely. The tiefling murmured the words of a spell and then closed his eyes in concentration. After a moment he snorted and shook his head. “It belonged to Kraken Queen, but the aura is weak or the ship is far away,” he said. “I cannot discern her direction.”

“It was worth a try,” Geran said. He sighed and looked out over the purple-hued waters lapping against the pebbled shore. “Very well, then. We’ll have to search out Kraken Queen the hard way. We’ll stay here for the night and begin in the morning.”

Over the next five days Geran steered Seadrake westward along the Moonsea’s northern coast past Thentia and Melvaunt as far as the River Stojanow and the small city of Phlan, with no luck. The weather worsened, as cool gray skies settled in with sheets of cold rain every night. By day Seadrake crashed through heavy swells, throwing white spray over the bow and running across the wind with a strong heel to her decks. They crossed the Moonsea to the southern shore near Hillsfar and spent another five days working eastward as they searched the numberless islets and forested coves that crowded the shore between that city and the River Lis. Still they had no sign of the ship they sought, and Geran decided that