I don’t know about all of you,’ Crake continued, ‘but I am not spending the rest of my life hiding in an icy wasteland. So what I want to know,’ he said, looking directly at Frey, ‘is what you intend to do next. Captain.’
There was a loud plop as something fell from the rafters and into Crake’s beer. Without taking his eyes from Frey, he pushed it away from him with his fingertips.
Frey was still staring at the article, but he wasn’t really seeing it. His mind was working furiously, struggling to puzzle out this crisis, getting nowhere. He’d spent a fortnight raking over the coals of recent events, searching for some buried truth, but there were simply no answers to be had.
It didn’t make any sense. Why him? If this was a set-up, why choose him? An obscure freebooter, his name all but unknown in pirate circles. Yet Quail had asked for him specifically. Quail, to whom he’d done no wrong.
Of course, maybe someone had used Quail to set him up, that was always a possibility. But who had he offended? To whom had he done such a grievous slight? It must be someone powerful, if they could orchestrate something serious enough to involve the Archduke’s personal elite. The Century Knights didn’t usually concern themselves with affairs unconnected to the Archduke.
Was it an accident? A million-to-one shot that destroyed that craft? No. Frey didn’t believe in million-to-one chances. He’d been set up. Someone rigged that freighter to blow, and they put him in position to take the blame.
At least one of the pilots in the escort craft was superb. Whoever arranged all this must have banked on someone living to tell the tale. Even if no one had escaped, they’d have pinned it on him somehow, he had no doubt. But this way they had a witness, presumably unconnected to the real brains behind the operation.
What was on board that freighter?
‘Frey?’ Crake prompted, snapping him out of his reverie. Frey’s head came up. ‘I asked what you intend to do now?’
Frey shrugged helplessly. ‘I don’t know.’
‘I see,’ said Crake, his voice dripping with scorn. ‘Well, let me know when you do. I’d be interested in finding out. If I’m still here.’ With that, he got up and left.
There was a long silence. The crew were not used to seeing Frey so beaten. It unsettled them.
‘What about New Vardia?’ Malvery suggested. ‘Fresh start. Unknown lands. Just the sort of thing for a bunch of lads in our position.’
‘No!’ Harkins cried, and they all looked at him. He went red. ‘I mean to say, umm, the Ketty Jay might make it - I say might - but the fighters, nuh-uh. The Storm Belt’s still too bad to the west, and they can’t carry enough fuel to go the other route. We’d have to leave the fighters behind and me, no way, I ain’t leaving that Firecrow, even if she does belong to the Cap’n. He leaves the Firecrow behind, I stay behind with her. Final.’
Frey was surprised at Harkins’ unusual assertiveness on the matter.
‘Retribution Falls,’ said Pinn. ‘That’s what my money’s on. Nobody’d find us in Retribution Falls.’
‘Nobody would find us because it’s impossible to find,’ explained Frey patiently. ‘Any ideas how we would find it?’
Pinn thought for a moment and came up blank. ‘Well, there’s got to be a way,’ he muttered. ‘You hear about all those pirates who’ve been there. You hear about Orkmund, don’t you?’
Frey sighed. Retribution Falls: the legendary hidden pirate town. A place safe from the dangers of the world, where you could fight and drink and screw to your heart’s content and the Navy could never touch you. It was said to be founded by the renowned pirate Orkmund,
