Pirates & Privateers Read online

  “Dag,” he called out softly. “Stop.”

  She looked back at him. When he pointed she looked out across the water and crouched down. Calder crept over to her, being careful to keep his swords covered. Even with the moonlight someone using a telescope wouldn’t be able to see much more than movement this far away, but anything shiny that caught the light would be visible.

  “It’s the Neas,” he said.

  “Is it a coincidence?” Dag asked. “They unloaded their goods and just happened to be leaving now?”

  “No. They’re too close to the island: this isn’t the safest sea route to anywhere. They’re looking for us.”

  “We have to keep going.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. There wasn’t a choice, not really. “We can’t stay here. Whoever is following us will figure out where we went. How long until we reach the sailboat?” The Neas was far enough away that even if it spotted them it would take time to sail close enough to launch a dinghy.

  “Less than twenty minutes,” Dag said.

  “That should give us enough time to get to the sailboat and get the sails up before they get here,” he said. They also had the pistols if they needed to defend themselves.

  “Remember my Trait,” Dag said. “They could be looking right at me and not notice me.”

  “But they can see me,” Calder said. As always, he couldn’t trust Luck to do what he wanted. If Dag knew how to sail he’d send her ahead to get the boat. But if she knew how to sail, she wouldn’t have needed him in the first place.

  “I think it’s wide enough here for us to go side by side,” Dag said. “I’ll stay between you and the ship. It should work.”

  “All right, should work is better than will never work,” Calder said. “Maybe my Luck will help too.”

  “I hope so,” Dag replied. She carefully stood up. Once Calder edged close enough, she wrapped her arm around his waist. “I’ve seen the sailboat twice: I’m counting on Luck that it’s there now.”

  They moved slowly: more because the path was narrow and rocky and a fall would send them plunging into the sea than because they were worried about being seen. Dag kept their feet on the path, and Calder tried to figure out if they’d been spotted by the Neas or their pursuers had found the trail.

  Every time he turned his head he unconsciously pulled her closer to him. As an Intelligencer he’d always worked alone—they all worked alone—but it was nice to have someone else he could depend on. And he thought it nice that Dag was depending on him. Even though he didn’t think she trusted him. He grinned for a moment, but then the grin slipped away when he looked out at the Neas. He’d meant it earlier when he’d said it would take both their Traits to make it to safety. He’d spent ten years as an Intelligencer, and he’d never been hunted like this before.

  “I think we’re getting close,” Dag said. “I have to warn you that there’s a drop off into the sea right before the beach where the children are.”

  “Do we have to jump?” Calder asked.

  “Probably,” Dag replied. “There is a trail through the woods that I used to get here from the beach, but that will take much longer.”

  “And the pirates following us could catch up,” Calder said. “So we jump.”

  In order to inch around a spot where the path had crumbled into the sea, they had to separate. Once the path widened out enough, Calder linked arms with Dag. He automatically glanced out to sea.

  “Skit!” He sighed. “They saw me; when we separated, someone saw me.”

  “How do you know?” Dag asked although she didn’t stop moving along the path.

  “They’re signalling.” He glanced out at the ship. A single lamp swung back and forth from the stern, and suddenly lights appeared mid-ship. “They’re getting a dinghy or two in the water in a couple of minutes.”

  “Then it’s a good thing we’re here,” Dag said as she stopped, keeping a steadying hand on his arm.

  Calder peered out past her. The beach was dark, but he could see two structures tucked in close to the forest. A small pier jutted out into the sea. And tied to it, bobbing on the waves, was a sailboat—as promised.

  “The sailboat’s there,” Dag said. “I’m going to thank your Luck.”

  “I’ll take it,” Calder replied. He looked over the edge. There was a fifteen-foot drop into the sea: not a huge plunge, but they had no way of knowing what was under the water there. He knelt down to try to get a better look.

  “There are rocks there,” Dag pointed at a spot a few feet inland. “But nothing this way.”

  “You can see them?”

  Dag shrugged. “My Trait knows where they are. Hidden, remember?”

  He nodded. “All right. We stay away from those areas. Anything else?” Dag shook her head. “I’ll go first.”

  He untied the tarp that held the swords, dropped them to the ground and unfolded the cloth. He placed his pistol in the centre of it. He held out his hand for Dag’s pistol and put that in as well. He wrapped the tarp up as tight as he could, hoping to make it water tight.

  “It won’t keep them dry if it’s submerged for too long,” he said.

  “But we might get Lucky,” Dag finished.

  “Let’s hope,” he said, not sure what he was hoping for. That the pistols were usable or that they never needed to use them? He handed the bundle to Dag. “You toss them to me once I’m down.”

  He stepped over to the edge to a spot where he would land far from where Dag said rocks were submerged. He jumped, pulling his knees into his chest.

  He hit the water with a splash and went under. It was too deep to stand, so he kicked, propelling himself up. When his head surfaced, he took a deep breath before waving up at Dag.

  “Drop the bundle, and then I’ll get out of your way.”

  She leaned over and let go of the bundle. He grabbed it and started swimming towards the beach, awkwardly trying to keep it above his head. He turned when he heard a splash. A moment later Dag’s head broke the surface, and she started swimming towards him.

  “Is it dry?” she asked when she reached him.

  “I think so.” After a few more strokes he was able to stand. It was slower wading through the water, but it would keep the contents of the tarp as dry as possible.

  “We woke someone up,” Dag said. She was closer to shore and stood up, water dripping from her.

  Calder pushed to catch up to her. “You take this,” he said, handing the tarp bundle to her. “I’ll make for the boat and make sure the sails are there.”

  “You mean they might not be?”

  “If they’re not we may need to negotiate,” he said. “We still have some time before the dinghy from the Neas gets here. Besides, the people who live on this beach may not give the Neas crew a warm welcome. It’s possible that not everyone will feel comfortable with Ansdottir’s arrangement with Holt. Or that Holt even knows about the children who live here.”

  He dove towards the pier and the boat, swimming under water for as long as he could. When he surfaced, a figure on the beach was holding a lamp, looking out towards Dag. But not once did they swing the lamp to look in his direction. Was Dag somehow being seen on purpose, or was his Trait making her more visible? It didn’t matter as long as Dag was keeping their attention.

  The pier was just ahead: the sailboat looked lonely tied up to something that could accommodate a dozen boats the same size. What else had this cove been used for, before being used to raise children? Pirate business, probably.

  He swam under the pier and then eased between the wet wood and the side of the boat. Hands on the gunwale, he hauled himself on board.

  Calder opened a hatch and breathed out in relief: the sails were there, neatly packed away. He quickly untied the boat and pushed off from the dock. In a few minutes he had the sail up. Once wind puffed out the canvas, he sat down at the tiller.

  There were more lights and figures on the beach now, most of them small. Dag was in the water in front of the group on the beach
, but he thought she was too far away for their lights to reach her.

  It was a little tricky getting close enough for Dag to toss the bundle into the boat. He threw her the painter, and she grabbed it and pulled herself towards the sailboat.

  As soon as she had hold of the gunwale, he stepped back to man the tiller and set course for the open sea.

  “We made it,” he said to Dag as she joined him in the stern. Soaking wet, she dropped to the bottom of the boat.

  “So we did,” she replied and blew out a big breath.

  DAG SAT IN the bow, peering at the dark sea ahead of them. She pointed out a submerged rock, and Calder steered the boat around it.

  The ship—Holt’s ship—was almost straight ahead of them, cutting off the way north to the Frozen Pass. She could see one dinghy in the water, and she assumed that the activity on board meant that another was being readied. As long as the wind held she and Calder should be able to outrun the dinghies. As long as the wind held.

  When the rocks near the shoreline were no longer a threat, she turned to scan the beach behind them. A cluster of dark figures stood on the white sand, but the lamp had been doused.

  Was Calder right that not all of Ansdottir’s people knew about the captain’s relationship with Tarmo Holt? The Neas’ presence here might worry Teacher and the children. And no matter what Teacher thought about someone landing on their beach and stealing their sailboat, the threat posed by a ship could be greater.

  “Hang on,” Calder called out softly, and Dag tightened her grip on the gunwales.

  The boat bucked over a wave, and seawater splashed up over the prow. She blew out, trying to move the wet strand of hair from her eyes, but she didn’t dare reach a hand up. If she lost her grip and went overboard, Calder might not be able to come back for her even if he wanted to; not unless he was willing to risk almost certain capture.

  There was a smooth patch of sea, and the sailboat picked up speed, heading straight for a gap between the Neas and the rocky cliff they’d just walked along. Dag craned her neck to look but didn’t see any figures clinging to the trail: either their pursuers hadn’t made it that far or they’d gone back to Strongrock for reinforcements.

  The boat crested a wave and slid down the trough, and Dag was flung forward into the wedge of the prow. She dug her fingernails into the wet wood and knelt lower. The part of the boat that she was in was bearing the brunt of the waves, but there could be hidden dangers ahead that she needed to warn Calder about.

  They were almost even with the Neas: men were scrambling into the now-lowered second dinghy. The first dinghy was heading towards them, someone calling a steady pace, urging the rowers on.

  Then they were past the ship, flying over the dark, choppy sea. The moon highlighted the swells as Calder steered them directly away from the island.

  Dag glanced back at Calder, who had one hand on the tiller while the other was flipping a rope back and forth, constantly adjusting the angle of sail. He was dripping wet, and she wondered how he’d managed to stay in the boat with nothing but the tiller to hold onto when a wave smashed into them, throwing him to one side, and she saw the rope around his waist, tying him in.

  She looked ahead, trying to see what he was steering them toward. The sky was starting to lighten, but that didn’t help her see what might be out there.

  The Neas was far behind them now: her dinghies, having given up the chase, were back in the shadow of the ship. Would they simply go home, or would they try to catch them on the open water?

  After another half hour the grey sky was light enough for her to see that they’d left Strongrock Island behind them. The swells were now larger but less violent, and she took a chance to rub her hands together, trying to warm them up.

  “Are we heading to Ostland?” she asked, turning to Calder.

  “No,” he replied. “We’re heading due west, but I’ll turn north in a while and then go east to Ostland. We should be able to find a ship heading to Tarklee.” He tucked the tiller under his arm and blew into his fisted hand. “Joosep needs to know about Tarmo Holt’s involvement with the pirates.”

  “You’re still assuming that he doesn’t already know,” Dag replied. “I don’t think we should tell him anything until we’re sure he’s not part of this.” Joosep was why Inger had left North Tarklee, and now somehow, she’d been manipulated by the pirates. Dag didn’t like that both Margit Ansdottir and Tarmo Holt had taken an interest in her sister, and Joosep bore some responsibility for that too.

  “What if you’re wrong?” Calder asked. “What if delaying giving him this information means he misses the only opportunity to confront—and stop—Holt?”

  “Even if he can be trusted Joosep won’t do anything,” Dag said. “He’ll wait until Tarmo Holt’s term as Grand Freeholder is over and assume that Holt can’t do anything for another six years.”

  “Skit,” Calder swore. “You’re right—Joosep won’t act. He prefers to gather intelligence and give it to others so they can act.” He met her gaze. “Is your Trait telling you that Joosep is working with Holt?”

  “No,” Dag replied. “But I think it’s too much of a coincidence that we’ve found out that Holt is backing the pirates in some way. That seems like it was uncovered by a Trait—mine, yours, maybe both.”

  “We still should return to Nordmere,” Calder said. “And find out what Holt is planning.”

  “I guess,” Dag said, but she didn’t like leaving Inger behind. She’d be all right, wouldn’t she? Whatever plans they had for her wouldn’t happen right away, and even more importantly, they required Inger to be alive. Dag shivered. She’d been trying not to think about just how much danger Inger could be in because then she would have to go back and find her. At least her Trait hadn’t been triggered by a hidden danger. The obvious danger was quite enough.

  Dag sat in silence, looking out across the Pale Sea. She felt it when Calder changed course and headed north, but she didn’t say anything. She’d agreed to head back to North Tarklee, but it didn’t feel right, leaving Inger behind. Even though there was no chance to find her sister and talk to her in private; to make Inger understand what was really happening with the pirates. And even if she could convince her, Ursa or Margit Ansdottir had some hold on her: some Trait that made Inger doubt her own sister.

  She was puzzling how a Trait like that could work when Calder swore.

  “Skit!” Calder said. He jumped up and grabbed the sail and ducked. “Watch your head.”

  Dag dropped to the bottom of the boat as Calder pulled at the sail until it was lined up with the prow. Once it caught the wind, he flattened himself in the bottom of the boat and reached out with one hand to grip the tiller. In a few moments they were speeding in the opposite direction.

  “They saw us,” Calder said. He shifted back to the seat at the stern. Dag lifted her head and looked past him.

  A ship bore down on them from between a narrow pass.

  “Is it the Neas?”

  “Yeah,” Calder said. “They can outrun us, so check the guns to see if they’re dry enough to fire. It won’t hurt to let them know we have a bite of our own.”

  “They’ll catch us?”

  “Not if I can help it,” Calder said. He shoved the tiller over to one side, and the boat lurched, throwing Dag into the gunwale. “Sorry,” Calder said. “I need to make us too difficult a target for them to hit with a cannon.”

  “Cannon?” Dag was too startled to be afraid. She found the rolled-up tarp and started undoing it. The pistols didn’t have a very good range—the ship would have to get very close—closer than she wanted to think about—if they were to be effective. “What other weapons will they have?”

  “Same as us: what you found on the beach is pretty standard for a ship like the Neas: pistols, long guns, and shot and powder.”

  Dag had the tarp unrolled. She picked up a pistol, but groaned when she saw the bag of powder. It was soaking wet.

  “What happened to your Luck?” sh
e asked Calder.

  “It works in unpredictable ways,” he replied. “I take it the guns didn’t survive.”

  “Guns yes, powder no.” Dag picked up a long gun and laid it across her knee. She’d wave it around and hope the crew from the Neas noticed it. It might gain them a few seconds or minutes, and that could be the difference between capture and escape.

  They were travelling against the wind, and Calder continued to position the sail to keep them heading south. Dag kept her eyes on the Neas. It was gaining on them: now she could see the crew as they scrambled amongst the sails. They had the same problem: they were also heading into the wind, but she thought it was more complicated to keep a multi-sailed ship heading straight than for Calder to do it in this small boat.

  “They’re turning,” she said suddenly. She peered past Calder, who had twisted in his seat to stare behind them. “They’re giving up, Calder, they’re heading back north.” And they were! As she watched, the ship made a wide turn. The sails filled with wind, and then it skimmed away from them.

  “Huh,” Calder said. He turned back and met her eyes. “Keep watch ahead.”

  “But they gave up!”

  “Or they pushed us into a trap. Like I said, keep watch up ahead.”

  “Should we go to Ostland now?” Dag asked. Would the pirates have had time to get their ship this far from Strongrock? “We could wait until the Neas has gone through the pass and find a safe place to hide?”

  “All right,” Calder agreed. “It’s a good a plan as any.” He looked past her and frowned. “Sorry, it’s too late for that.”

  Dag swivelled in her seat. “Skit.” Two small sailboats were heading towards them, their sails puffed out with wind. “Can we outrun them?”

  “And go where?” Calder asked. “The Neas is north and east leads to the Sapphire Sea. This little boat won’t make it that far.” He shifted in his seat. “Keep your head down. I’m going to go right up the middle and split them.”

  Dag lay down on the bottom of the boat. She didn’t have to tell Calder that his plan was ridiculous, but she didn’t have a better option. She peered over the gunwale. The boats were close enough that she recognized Margit Ansdottir in the one on her right. She stood with one hand on the tiller and the other one holding a pistol: aimed at them.