Corsair

you have any idea how hard it will be to keep our identities a secret in the close confines of a ship filled with enemies? You may be able to pass yourselves off as deckhands, but I know nothing about ships.”

“I prefer to think of it as audacity, not madness,” Hamil said. “In any event, I have a hard time imagining a better way to spy out the plots of the pirate captains or to find out where the Black Moon ships are lairing.”

Geran chewed on his tongue for a moment, thinking it over. He’d gone along with Sorsil’s offer simply because that seemed a plausible cover for approaching the pirates-nothing more than a ruse to ferret out some rumors of Hulburg’s enemies. A couple of miles away under the clouded Moonsea night, Seadrake waited. He and his companions could slip out of Zhentil Keep and bring the ship into position to catch Moonshark in the morning. But Moonshark wasn’t the prize he was after; he wanted Kraken Queen, and his intuition warned him that she might prove an elusive quarry. All he had to do was board Moonshark before dawn, and Narsk’s ship would take him exactly where he wanted to go. Once he spied out Kraken Queen’s lair, he could slip away to summon Seadrake and bag the Black Moon Brotherhood with a single efficient stroke. With his arcane magic-and Sarth’s-at their disposal, abandoning Narsk’s ship should be simple enough.

“I don’t ask either of you to come with me,” he told Hamil and Sarth, “but I intend to sail with Moonshark in the morning. Seadrake’s in Kara’s command. I want her to take the ship back toward Hulburg and protect shipping as best she can until I return or send word.”

“I’m with you,” Hamil said. The halfling looked up at him with a fierce grin. “You’ll need someone to watch your back.”

Sarth sighed and looked up at the dark skies overhead. “I, too,” he said. “There is an excellent chance that you will have to fight your way off that ship. If so, my magic may be of some small use. But I am going to be a very inept deckhand.”

“Hamil and I can help you with that,” Geran told him. “Besides, there’ll be plenty of men on that ship who know just as little as you do. Narsk needs fighters even more than he needs sailors.”

“Very well,” Sarth said. He frowned unhappily. “I will trust your judgment.”

“Good. That brings up two more things. First … Sarth, you have a spell of flying. Can you return to Seadrake, explain to Kara what we’re doing, and come back swiftly?”

Sarth nodded. “Of course, but we should get out of sight before I take to the air.”

“The place where we left the skiff should do. I don’t think many of the people here are in the habit of roaming the ruins at night.”

“What else?” Hamil asked.

Geran smiled. He knew it was a foolish thing, but it amused him nonetheless. “We’ll need to come up with good pirate names.”

EIGHT

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

Moonshark sailed at dawn, as Narsk had promised. Before the lower limb of the sun had cleared the horizon, the half galley hauled in her lines and sculled slowly eastward with the current of the Tesh. By daylight the taverns and dens huddled in the ruins of Zhentil Keep struck Geran as squalid and small. None of the people living there showed themselves as the pirate ship set sail.

As he bent his back to one of the oars and pulled, Geran began to second-guess his strategy. The moment the ship got underway, Narsk and Sorsil dropped any pretense of civility. The burly first mate armed herself with a small cudgel and roamed the main deck freely employing the weapon against anyone who seemed to be shirking. Narsk prowled the quarterdeck, snarling savagely as he issued his orders. Worse yet, Geran’s new shipmates seemed a vicious lot. Most of the crewmen were humans from a wide variety of lands, but some were dwarves, some were half-orcs, some were goblins or kin to goblins, and there was even one ogre-a strapping, dimwitted creature called Kronn, who manned one of the ship’s oars by himself. They wore threadbare tunics, scraps of armor, tattered cloaks, and sodden hoods or misshapen hats. Geran caught more than a few studying him and his friends with calculating looks. Some grinned threateningly at him when he met their gaze. If there weren’t a dozen ready to slit his throat for a silver talent, he would have been astonished.

“Pull, you sorry bastards!” Sorsil roared. “The captain doesn’t want to bob around in the river all damned day! The sooner we cross the bar, the sooner we’ll raise sail! Now pull like you mean it!”

The man sitting beside Geran at the oar bench chuckled to himself. He was a weatherbeaten old Shou, with a face like seamed leather and a topknot of gray-streaked black hair. “Every time we leave port, it is the same,” he said between strokes. “Pull harder! Pull faster! But do not worry, stranger. Narsk knows that the crew does not like to row, and he’ll take the oars in soon enough.”

“You’ve sailed with Narsk a long time?” Geran asked.

“I joined Moonshark three years ago. Zaroun was the captain then, and Moonshark hunted the Sea of Fallen Stars.” The Shou gave Geran a bitter smile. “Zaroun was a good captain, but he was not a good judge of men. Or gnolls. He signed on Narsk in Impiltur as we sailed west toward the Dragon Reach and within the month he was dead and Narsk was captain. That was a year ago now.”

Geran looked up at the quarterdeck, where the gnoll paced. “Did Narsk challenge Zaroun or just murder him?”

“Challenge, of course. That is the Black Moon way. But you should know, stranger, that a captain is within his rights to order a challenger killed. If the crew thinks the challenger is not fit to seize the ship, they’ll deal with him. No, one should be sure that the crew will stand aside before one challenges the captain.”

“I see.” Geran wasn’t surprised to learn that the Black Moon pirates chose their leaders in such a manner, or that the challenge process didn’t offer any guarantees to the challenger. Many outlaw gangs and brigand companies worked in much the same way. The captain could count on the protection of the crew against many challenges, but only so long as he held their confidence. “Has Narsk faced many challenges?”

“Some.” The Shou gave Geran a sly look. “You speak like a man who has an interest in becoming captain.”

Geran snorted. “I don’t think so. Narsk doesn’t scare me, but the rest of you do.”

The Shou laughed aloud, attracting the attention of Sorsil. The mate growled and struck him across the shoulders then gave Geran a clout as well. “Enjoying the morning, lads?” she snarled. “Now pull!”

Geran saw stars. He started to surge up from his bench, but he stopped himself short. It was far too early to think about fighting anyone, and he knew that the mate had meant the blow as a sharp warning and nothing more. Instead the swordmage clenched his jaw and chose to endure the blow with a hard look at the mate.

Hamil and Sarth, sitting at the bench in front of him, hesitated half a moment in their sweep, and Hamil glanced back to meet his eyes. Are you certain you want to continue? he asked silently. We can dispatch a few of these villains and make our escape any time you like.

Geran shook his head slightly and went back to his rowing as Sorsil moved on to shout at a different crewman. He was here to learn more about the Black Moon corsairs, and if he drew blade the first time he met with something he didn’t like, he would never get far. Hamil shrugged and returned his attention to his own oar.

“You were wise to hold your anger,” the Shou said in a low voice. “If you had struck back at Sorsil, Narsk would have ordered her to beat you or kill you.” He paused and then added, “I am Tao Zhe. I am the ship’s cook.”

“Call me Aram. Those two ahead of us are Vorr and Dagger.” Geran nodded at Sarth and Hamil. “What else should I know about sailing under the Black Moon?”

“It would be wise to find a fist soon.”

“A fist?”

“A band, a gang-they call them ‘fists’ here,” the Shou answered. “One man alone is in for a difficult time aboard a Black Moon ship. Your shipmates will rob you, bully you, give you the worst jobs to do. The best protection