Early this afternoon, met we The Gold Trader. They set off from Tule, carrying a hundred tons of leather bound for Walz, but we happily took them of their trade. They did so ever politely, and we only had to throw five of their soldiers overboard until they submitted to our blades. Pity for those men’s souls, but the better for us. I’d rather not return to Tule, in case those soldiers will have returned. We headed back to our cave and will for the winds to calm, figuratively speaking.
The wind has been very poor as of late, and I’m worried poor Syldra has too much to do. She, like our sailors, is tired from recent events. We all are. I feel bad for the boys not having the most recent take, as the ships sailing have been infrequent these last few days. Tycoon’s usual freight bound for the shrine and Carwen have also been delayed it seems. I miss seeing Captains Nex and Tessain and their smarmy comments. They must be resting back at home, wondering why the world is coming to an end. They always were determined to be a bit off on themselves.
I do miss the winds of Jacole, those southerly gales that swept us from one side of the world to the other. Seeing the mountains in the far mist with the waves under your feet, swifter than the wind, riding the back of a dragon. It seems the romance, with time, is fading. Too soon. We are all too young it appears.
Later in the afternoon the boys were taking naps, and like them, famished of sleepeye, I dozed off a bit. When I awoke, the boys were all a flutter, as someone had raised the bridge. Grabbing our weapons, we rushed to the ship, to find three thieves standing at the wheel of the ship, trying in vain to hoist the sails and take off.
My boys raised their sabers and were ready to kill. I could see the blood in their eyes. Justino, in particular, was shaking with eagerness, probably far too excited after his recent outing to the Tule lounge and having promised some wench his next payment in gold. He has a tender heart but a ruthless demeanor, and let no man say that he hasn’t been warned by the blades of Justino. I do admire him.
However, no blood should be spilled. The leading man, a handsome buck with a great sword strapped to his back and dressed in a worn traveler’s cloak startled me, and I knew he would take down my men without a thought. If this man knew where my hideout was, I needed him alive and to tell me how he found out. If he was a spy of Tycoon, my men were no longer safe.
“Take them into the brig!” I shouted, and the men, though only one knew of my sex, turned back as if in mutiny. “These three aren’t worth the spoils of your strength,” I shouted to my men, and then raised my own saber in reply. “If they don’t prove useful,” I said in a gentler voice, “you men may make of the woman as you will.”
I was not that cold-hearted, but the men needed to know I could be. It was a game we played - in order for us to mutually hold each other accountable, the challenge was issued, and a reply was given. We hunted the seas because we thrilled a fight, thirsted for wealth, and no one or place would grant us safe harbor. We were a different brand of people, more suited to catcalls and wild nights under the moon, and then off to a long night at sea until the salt boiled in our blood and we broke free from the reverie in a blood-stained battle.
Besides, the woman looked to be more useful than the other two: she held herself with a dignity I had thought I had forgotten. The pendant she wore around her neck was the same as mine, and that could only mean that she had stolen my father’s heart, or something far more insidious.
The leading man, on the other hand, proved to be quite a bore and unchivalrous when thrown into the pit, remarking with several uncouth statements about the virility of my boys, who none took to quite well. The old man turned out to be a hard lot to handle, and three of my boys had to knock him unconscious before he stopped struggling.
The wind has been very poor as of late, and I’m worried poor Syldra has too much to do. She, like our sailors, is tired from recent events. We all are. I feel bad for the boys not having the most recent take, as the ships sailing have been infrequent these last few days. Tycoon’s usual freight bound for the shrine and Carwen have also been delayed it seems. I miss seeing Captains Nex and Tessain and their smarmy comments. They must be resting back at home, wondering why the world is coming to an end. They always were determined to be a bit off on themselves.
I do miss the winds of Jacole, those southerly gales that swept us from one side of the world to the other. Seeing the mountains in the far mist with the waves under your feet, swifter than the wind, riding the back of a dragon. It seems the romance, with time, is fading. Too soon. We are all too young it appears.
Later in the afternoon the boys were taking naps, and like them, famished of sleepeye, I dozed off a bit. When I awoke, the boys were all a flutter, as someone had raised the bridge. Grabbing our weapons, we rushed to the ship, to find three thieves standing at the wheel of the ship, trying in vain to hoist the sails and take off.
My boys raised their sabers and were ready to kill. I could see the blood in their eyes. Justino, in particular, was shaking with eagerness, probably far too excited after his recent outing to the Tule lounge and having promised some wench his next payment in gold. He has a tender heart but a ruthless demeanor, and let no man say that he hasn’t been warned by the blades of Justino. I do admire him.
However, no blood should be spilled. The leading man, a handsome buck with a great sword strapped to his back and dressed in a worn traveler’s cloak startled me, and I knew he would take down my men without a thought. If this man knew where my hideout was, I needed him alive and to tell me how he found out. If he was a spy of Tycoon, my men were no longer safe.
“Take them into the brig!” I shouted, and the men, though only one knew of my sex, turned back as if in mutiny. “These three aren’t worth the spoils of your strength,” I shouted to my men, and then raised my own saber in reply. “If they don’t prove useful,” I said in a gentler voice, “you men may make of the woman as you will.”
I was not that cold-hearted, but the men needed to know I could be. It was a game we played - in order for us to mutually hold each other accountable, the challenge was issued, and a reply was given. We hunted the seas because we thrilled a fight, thirsted for wealth, and no one or place would grant us safe harbor. We were a different brand of people, more suited to catcalls and wild nights under the moon, and then off to a long night at sea until the salt boiled in our blood and we broke free from the reverie in a blood-stained battle.
Besides, the woman looked to be more useful than the other two: she held herself with a dignity I had thought I had forgotten. The pendant she wore around her neck was the same as mine, and that could only mean that she had stolen my father’s heart, or something far more insidious.
The leading man, on the other hand, proved to be quite a bore and unchivalrous when thrown into the pit, remarking with several uncouth statements about the virility of my boys, who none took to quite well. The old man turned out to be a hard lot to handle, and three of my boys had to knock him unconscious before he stopped struggling.
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