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The Children of Leviathan - Part 2: The Shrike
Though she flew Milandir’s colors, it was clear that the Shrike was rigged as a pirate ship, built and specialized for speed and clandestine missions. The crew was a motley lot, ranging from disgraced soldiers to exiled noblemen, petty criminals to pardoned pirates.
“If one of those slobs steps within two feet of me I’ll gut him like the pig he is,” said Ilmarė. The leering and the heckling were starting to get to her.
Bijoux backed up against her as some of the sailors circled around them. “I’m beginning to agree with you,” she said.
“Stand down gentleMENNNNN!” shouted Captain Bezyli in his usual high-pitched reprimand. “Ladies, please join your comrades in my office.”
The sailors grudgingly parted to let the only females on the ship pass.
Bezyli closed the door behind them. Vlad and Cal were already inside. Cal was hunched over such that he had difficulty turning his head to listen to the Captain.
“Yes, well then. The ship we’re searching for is called the Dauntless. It was a sloop carrying Milandir’s annual shipment of blastpowder, along with a secret new weapon purchased by none other than King Osric IV. The pirates we seek dwell on the southern coast of Altheria, somewhere within the Ophidian Isle. We’ll be docking at Fort M’kimbe, a lighthouse keep manned by the Altherian Patrol.”
“So what do you think happened to this—“
Bezyli cut Vlad off. “Talk to my first mate,” he said curtly. “I’ve got better things to do than chat.” He opened the door again and pointed out.
“But—“ said Bijoux.
“His name is Baldric,” said Bezyli. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to chat with you all day.”
They all stepped out of the Captain’s quarters and out onto the deck, only to greet a semicircle of irate sailors. The door slammed behind them.
A grizzled old sailor in a black hat and an eye patch pointed at Ilmarė. “Arrr, lasses on a ship be bad luck.”
“That’s good,” said Ilmarė, glaring back at him, “because I’m not a woman. I am Elorii.”
“An’ ye look like a cat,” the old sailor said to Bijoux. “Th' ship we`re lookin' fer that sailed' down? They had a cat too.”
Bijoux gulped. “I am Fihali,” she said meekly.
“Arrr, ye`re mighty strange lookin' t' me. I dasn't like th' looks o' ye.”
A low, deep growl rumbled from Cal’s throat. Some of the crew took a step back.
Vlad kept his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Look, we didn’t come here to start any trouble.”
“Aye,” said the grizzled old sea dog, “but trouble be all we’ve got these days.” He jabbed a thumb at his own chest. “I be First Mate Baldric. An' I don’t care wi' th' captain thinks, I own this ship an' th' crew listens t' me. If ye want t' be on here, ye`re goin' t' be havin' t' pass th' test.”
Grumbles of “pass the test” and “they won’t do it” came from the assembled crew.
“What kind of test?” asked Vlad.
Baldric grinned a mouthful of rotten teeth. “Arr, that’s th’ rub. Ye need…” he leered closer to Ilmarė, “t’ sin’ a song.”
Ilmarė blinked. “What did he just say?”
“I think,” said Bijoux, “he wants us to sing a song?”
“Sing the song!” shouted the pirates over and over. “Sing the song!”
“Each o’ ye has a certain part t’play. An’ ye better sin’ it!”
Crazy Bob handed out slates with each part of the song. Cal turned his around several times.
“What’s this say?” he whispered to Bijoux.
The Fihali looked at Cal’s slate. “That’s the letter A, I believe.”
Ilmarė looked up from her slate. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“’Tis no joke, lass,” said Baldric. “Now sin’ when I point at ye. Are ye ready?”
They all looked at him mutely. One of the pirates shoved Vlad on the shoulder. He took a deep breath.
“Aye, aye, Baldric.”
Baldric put one hand to his ear and leaned forward. “I can’t hearrrrrrr yoooooooou!”
They all shouted at the top of their lungs, “AYE, AYE BALDRIC!”
“Ooooooooooooh who lives in th’ grotto down under th’ sea?”
Baldric pointed at Ilmarė. “Oh, for the love of Osalian! Lev—“
He pointed at Cal. “Uh…”
He pointed at Vlad. “Vi?”
He pointed at Bijoux. “Than.”
The crew started muttering.
“Nay, nay, nay ye`re screwin' 't up!” Baldric shouted. “Ye!” he pointed at Vlad. “Ye stand next t' th' lass. An' ye, ye scaly scallywag, ye switch places wi' th' lad!”
Vlad and Cal obliged.
“Now once more wi’ feeling!” The crew cheered and joined in.
“Who lives in th’ grotto down under th’ sea?
LE-VI-A-THAN!
An aspect o' Yarris an' evil be he!
LE-VI-A-THAN!
If nautical nightmares be somethin’ ye fear,
LE-VI-A-THAN!
Then run fer yer lives and dump all yer gear!
LE-VI-A-THAN!
Ready?
Leviathan, Leviathan, Leviathan, le-VI-A-THANNNNNNN!”
The crew went wild, hooting and clapping them on the back.
Baldric cackled. “Ye`re nay such a bad sort after all! Let me introduce ye t' me crew.” He nodded over his right shoulder to a dour looking sailor with a big nose. “That thar’s Edward.” Baldric nodded to his left at a goggled-eyed sailor with buckteeth. “An' he’s Crazy Bob. We run th' Shrike an' keep th' lass' in tip-top shape. If ye need anythin', we’ll be happy t' be at yer service.” He bowed low.
“Why do you call him Crazy Bob?” asked Vlad.
Baldric leaned closer and whispered behind the back of one hand. “We don’t talk much about 't after his accident, ye know.”
Crazy Bob giggled to himself. “We’re all doomed!” He shouted at the top of his lungs with an insane grin plastered across his face. “The Children of Leviathan are cannibals! They have a flying serpent queen who can call up giant sea devils to swallow ships whole!”
“That’s very nice Bob,” said Baldric, “now back t’ ye duties.”
Crazy Bob nodded too many times and wandered off.
Vlad watched Crazy Bob go. The crew went back to their regular chores, the amusement over for a moment. “So, what have you heard about this mission?” asked Vlad.
“The ship we’re looking for was lost in the Ophidian Isles,” said Edward in monotone voice. “The Altherians can’t find who did it, even with their gunships.”
Baldric nodded. “Aye, ‘tis true. ‘Tis why they put us aboard. All desperate men. A ship o' fools, ya be seein', ‘cause nay sane man would risk comin' aboard such a voyage. ‘Tis suicide. But then, most o' us would be hangin’ anyway. Th' Shrike’s a regular ghost ship, 'tis.”
“Osalian help us,” said Ilmarė, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “This crew is the best Coryani can offer? It doesn’t even have Kham on it.”
“Who is this Kham?” asked Bijoux.
“Don’t worry,” said Vlad, staring out at the water. “You’ll know him when you see him.”
Though she flew Milandir’s colors, it was clear that the Shrike was rigged as a pirate ship, built and specialized for speed and clandestine missions. The crew was a motley lot, ranging from disgraced soldiers to exiled noblemen, petty criminals to pardoned pirates.
“If one of those slobs steps within two feet of me I’ll gut him like the pig he is,” said Ilmarė. The leering and the heckling were starting to get to her.
Bijoux backed up against her as some of the sailors circled around them. “I’m beginning to agree with you,” she said.
“Stand down gentleMENNNNN!” shouted Captain Bezyli in his usual high-pitched reprimand. “Ladies, please join your comrades in my office.”
The sailors grudgingly parted to let the only females on the ship pass.
Bezyli closed the door behind them. Vlad and Cal were already inside. Cal was hunched over such that he had difficulty turning his head to listen to the Captain.
“Yes, well then. The ship we’re searching for is called the Dauntless. It was a sloop carrying Milandir’s annual shipment of blastpowder, along with a secret new weapon purchased by none other than King Osric IV. The pirates we seek dwell on the southern coast of Altheria, somewhere within the Ophidian Isle. We’ll be docking at Fort M’kimbe, a lighthouse keep manned by the Altherian Patrol.”
“So what do you think happened to this—“
Bezyli cut Vlad off. “Talk to my first mate,” he said curtly. “I’ve got better things to do than chat.” He opened the door again and pointed out.
“But—“ said Bijoux.
“His name is Baldric,” said Bezyli. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to chat with you all day.”
They all stepped out of the Captain’s quarters and out onto the deck, only to greet a semicircle of irate sailors. The door slammed behind them.
A grizzled old sailor in a black hat and an eye patch pointed at Ilmarė. “Arrr, lasses on a ship be bad luck.”
“That’s good,” said Ilmarė, glaring back at him, “because I’m not a woman. I am Elorii.”
“An’ ye look like a cat,” the old sailor said to Bijoux. “Th' ship we`re lookin' fer that sailed' down? They had a cat too.”
Bijoux gulped. “I am Fihali,” she said meekly.
“Arrr, ye`re mighty strange lookin' t' me. I dasn't like th' looks o' ye.”
A low, deep growl rumbled from Cal’s throat. Some of the crew took a step back.
Vlad kept his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Look, we didn’t come here to start any trouble.”
“Aye,” said the grizzled old sea dog, “but trouble be all we’ve got these days.” He jabbed a thumb at his own chest. “I be First Mate Baldric. An' I don’t care wi' th' captain thinks, I own this ship an' th' crew listens t' me. If ye want t' be on here, ye`re goin' t' be havin' t' pass th' test.”
Grumbles of “pass the test” and “they won’t do it” came from the assembled crew.
“What kind of test?” asked Vlad.
Baldric grinned a mouthful of rotten teeth. “Arr, that’s th’ rub. Ye need…” he leered closer to Ilmarė, “t’ sin’ a song.”
Ilmarė blinked. “What did he just say?”
“I think,” said Bijoux, “he wants us to sing a song?”
“Sing the song!” shouted the pirates over and over. “Sing the song!”
“Each o’ ye has a certain part t’play. An’ ye better sin’ it!”
Crazy Bob handed out slates with each part of the song. Cal turned his around several times.
“What’s this say?” he whispered to Bijoux.
The Fihali looked at Cal’s slate. “That’s the letter A, I believe.”
Ilmarė looked up from her slate. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“’Tis no joke, lass,” said Baldric. “Now sin’ when I point at ye. Are ye ready?”
They all looked at him mutely. One of the pirates shoved Vlad on the shoulder. He took a deep breath.
“Aye, aye, Baldric.”
Baldric put one hand to his ear and leaned forward. “I can’t hearrrrrrr yoooooooou!”
They all shouted at the top of their lungs, “AYE, AYE BALDRIC!”
“Ooooooooooooh who lives in th’ grotto down under th’ sea?”
Baldric pointed at Ilmarė. “Oh, for the love of Osalian! Lev—“
He pointed at Cal. “Uh…”
He pointed at Vlad. “Vi?”
He pointed at Bijoux. “Than.”
The crew started muttering.
“Nay, nay, nay ye`re screwin' 't up!” Baldric shouted. “Ye!” he pointed at Vlad. “Ye stand next t' th' lass. An' ye, ye scaly scallywag, ye switch places wi' th' lad!”
Vlad and Cal obliged.
“Now once more wi’ feeling!” The crew cheered and joined in.
“Who lives in th’ grotto down under th’ sea?
LE-VI-A-THAN!
An aspect o' Yarris an' evil be he!
LE-VI-A-THAN!
If nautical nightmares be somethin’ ye fear,
LE-VI-A-THAN!
Then run fer yer lives and dump all yer gear!
LE-VI-A-THAN!
Ready?
Leviathan, Leviathan, Leviathan, le-VI-A-THANNNNNNN!”
The crew went wild, hooting and clapping them on the back.
Baldric cackled. “Ye`re nay such a bad sort after all! Let me introduce ye t' me crew.” He nodded over his right shoulder to a dour looking sailor with a big nose. “That thar’s Edward.” Baldric nodded to his left at a goggled-eyed sailor with buckteeth. “An' he’s Crazy Bob. We run th' Shrike an' keep th' lass' in tip-top shape. If ye need anythin', we’ll be happy t' be at yer service.” He bowed low.
“Why do you call him Crazy Bob?” asked Vlad.
Baldric leaned closer and whispered behind the back of one hand. “We don’t talk much about 't after his accident, ye know.”
Crazy Bob giggled to himself. “We’re all doomed!” He shouted at the top of his lungs with an insane grin plastered across his face. “The Children of Leviathan are cannibals! They have a flying serpent queen who can call up giant sea devils to swallow ships whole!”
“That’s very nice Bob,” said Baldric, “now back t’ ye duties.”
Crazy Bob nodded too many times and wandered off.
Vlad watched Crazy Bob go. The crew went back to their regular chores, the amusement over for a moment. “So, what have you heard about this mission?” asked Vlad.
“The ship we’re looking for was lost in the Ophidian Isles,” said Edward in monotone voice. “The Altherians can’t find who did it, even with their gunships.”
Baldric nodded. “Aye, ‘tis true. ‘Tis why they put us aboard. All desperate men. A ship o' fools, ya be seein', ‘cause nay sane man would risk comin' aboard such a voyage. ‘Tis suicide. But then, most o' us would be hangin’ anyway. Th' Shrike’s a regular ghost ship, 'tis.”
“Osalian help us,” said Ilmarė, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “This crew is the best Coryani can offer? It doesn’t even have Kham on it.”
“Who is this Kham?” asked Bijoux.
“Don’t worry,” said Vlad, staring out at the water. “You’ll know him when you see him.”