Tolen Mar
First Post
Chapter 8 Love and Mutiny
Chapter 8 Mutinous Dogs!
Captain Perri wouldn’t take his ship on a mission such as Jean wanted him to go on. Instead he sent his backup ship, the Malasian warship. Of course, it would be some time before Jean knew that this ship used to belong to the navy of Mala.
As Samson turned the ship to the south, Jean decided it might be time to talk to some of the crew, and find out a few more details about Charity’s death.
Khadija and Kor were conspiring about something, and the rest were busy with their on duties, so he wandered below decks and wound up outside Lorenzo’s medical quarters. He knocked politely before opening the door and walking in. Lorenzo looked up from his work, and with an indifferent sort of sigh, turned back to it.
“Something I can help you with Baron?” he asked.
“Possibly. I’ve been listening to the crew. It would seem that Charity was well liked here.”
Lorenzo put down his quill, and rubbed his eyes. “Yes.” He agreed. “She was.”
“Do you know I never met her? At least, not a true meeting. I was introduced. Our marriage was arranged by myself and her grandmother.” He noticed the look on Lorenzo’s face. “Does that seem odd to you?”
Ren leaned forward and clasped his hands together. “No, not really.”
“Anyway, I came here to find out a bit about what she was like, I thought you might…”
“Might what?” Ren interrupted.
“Tell me of her while she was here. I’d like to know.”
“Well, one of the others might be able to tell you more. I’m not feeling particularly well right now.” Ren stood. “So unless you have a medical emergency…” With his eyes, he indicated the door.
Jean raised an eyebrow. If Lorenzo was going to play it like that, he could see there was going to be a lot of work needed to create a workable relationship. Jean nodded, and turned away. ‘Then again,’ he thought, ‘I’ll only be aboard ship for a couple of days, so it really won’t matter.’
************************************************
“I feel like a song!” Charity declared. She got up and walked past the nobleman in the crowd to where the musicians were sitting.
Ren watched with amusement as she crossed the room. Like many of the other patrons, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She talked to the band, and passed a couple of coins to them. They started a new tune, one that started slow.
She danced. It was easy to tell that she had danced most of her life. She had more grace in her movements than any woman Ren had ever seen. She would flash her eyes at him as she danced, that little smile on the corner of her mouth. She was almost hypnotic, and Ren’s heart swelled as he watched.
He hadn’t made a move yet. Ren wasn’t the cowardly type, but for some reason he had never made his feelings for her known.
The music sped up, and so did she, her hips taking on a new rhythm to match. The crowd had begun to clear an area for her so she would have room to dance, several were beginning to clap to the music. Ren was surprised when he noticed Dunstan was among those clapping along. He felt a momentary pang of jealousy.
The pace of the music was becoming frenzied, her movements so quick, it was hard to keep up with her. Her booted feet were making their own addition to the music, raising the whole act to a crescendo that would have made her famous in any theatre. She was sweating now, too, and her hair was starting to cling to her face, but still she danced, she whirled, she jumped, clapped. She was perfection in motion, and Ren could not help but feel that he would do anything for her. Anything.
Then she shouted, and stomped once, and the music ended. The crowd began applause in earnest, and slowly, the spell broken, they each returned to their own business. She walked back toward Ren. She was breathing heavily as she leaned past him to get the bartender to pour her another pint. Smiling, the bartender told her that one was on the house. She emptied it in one go, then sat next to Ren, leaning back against the bar.
She looked at him, smiled, and brushed one lock of sweat soaked hair out of her face.
It was but one moment Lorenzo would never forget.
**********************************************************
Samson was not happy with the turn of events. “Sailing into Mala,” he muttered, “with one of their ships, and one of their nobles. It’s suicide.”
Aoife defended her captain. “Well, I’m sure Perri has a plan. This is a risk, true. But he wouldn’t take it on if he...or we…couldn’t handle it.”
“Nonetheless. Baron!” he called. “Would you come here please?”
Jean walked up to the wheel, where Samson stood. “What is it?”
“Do you live in the main city, or can we drop you at any port? I don’t like the looks of all those warships out there.”
Jean looked out to sea. Out on the horizon were several war sloops. They were definitely Mala ships, but the Baron could not afford to be seen on a pirate vessel. His reputation at home was already shaky enough. “I live in the capital, or at least near by. The closer we can get, the better.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen. If I drop you at the city of the dead, can you make the rest of the trip yourself?”
“Well it would add two days, but I suppose I could.”
“Did you just say city of the dead?” Aoife asked.
“Yeah, he did.” Jean answered. “It’s a religious city. Its actually named Azarial. It used to be a demon prince’s palace, but the First banished him and built his own palace atop the ruins. Legend says the dead still walk here.”
“And you just want to drop him there?”
“As good a place as any. We need supplies anyway.”
“I don’t like it.” Aoife said.
“Don’t worry, lady. Your precious skin isn’t in danger. You might even find work here.”
“What do you mean by that?” she said, indignant.
“I know what it is you do. I’ve met satisfied customers.”
“How dare you!”
“That settles it.” Samson adjusted the ships course. “Baron, we’re putting you off here.”
“My apologies lady.” Jean backed down quickly. “I meant no harm. Samson, our arrangement was for further down the coast.”
“And you are dragging us into dangerous territory. I’m cutting our losses here.”
“I get the idea you are trying to get rid of me.”
“So what if I am? You can go on your merry way without us. Surely someone like you doesn’t need a bodyguard?”
Jean could only glare. Yes, one day, this particular pirate would pay. It really didn’t matter if they put to shore here or not. In fact, the cold reception he’d gotten from the crew since he arrived made it so he wanted to rid of this ship himself. He went below and started packing his things. Once done, he went on deck and watched the coastline approach.
Kor came to the railing beside him. “Samson’s putting you off, is he?”
Jean nodded. “It’s okay, I know people here.”
“Good. You know, you shouldn’t judge us by Samson. He’s not on good terms with everyone else. He’s done some things in the past, that really has more than a few of us upset.”
“He’s an insufferable coward who wants me off his ship, so he can run off with his tail between his legs. I’ll go.”
“Its just, you remind him of Charity. He’s the one that killed her.”
Jean frowned, and looked at Samson. “What do you mean?”
“When she had the ghoul fever. He pinned her to the deck with a dagger, rather than let Ren try to cure her.”
“He killed her?” Anger began to boil. Because of Samson, his tenuous grip on power in Mala had been thrown away.
“He claimed it’s because she attacked him.” Kor said, watching Jean’s reaction. “We were all asleep. By the time we knew anything was going on, she was dead, his dagger in her heart. All we have is his word.”
There were a few moments of silence, before Kor began again. “He is a very harsh man. He used to work for the inquisition.”
“He worked for the inquisition? Why did you tolerate him?”
“Well it isn’t like we had a lot of choice. He’s one of the captain’s favorites.”
“All the more reason for me to go ashore.”
“Perhaps I have a reason for you to not go.”
“What do you mean?” Jean narrowed his eyes.
“Well you did some research looking for us. Did you really think someone wouldn’t look into your past? He spilled the beans. There are wanted posters going up. 300 gold pieces, for you. Seems someone told the council you had become a pirate.”
“That son of a bitch.”
Kor nodded. “Most of the crew would love to be rid of him. You see, she found a treasure map. Word is she was the one who could rally the crew together to find it. He’d never go for it himself, not with this crew. Rumour has it, he killed her so he wouldn’t have to share.”
Jean was so angered that he didn’t notice at all that Kor was leading him down a dangerous path. It didn’t matter. Within moments, he was calling Samson out.
Samson came down the stairs, his brows furrowed. “What’s all this then?”
“You killed her, didn’t you?”
“What? Of course I did, she was out of her mind. I mean I only tried to wound her. What difference does it make to you?”
“You stupid callous moron. Because of you, the oppression over Mala could become worse.”
“Hey, I was just defending myself. You’d have done the same.”
The rest of the crew by now had noticed a commotion and were starting to gather around.
“Now I know why my presence here makes you uncomfortable. You recognized me. You were afraid I’d recognize you.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“You knew she was from Mala, too. You knew that she might turn you in as the criminal you are.” Then to the rest, “He killed Charity so she couldn’t turn him in!”
Samson growled, going for his weapon. “I’d quiet down if I were you.”
“You can’t make me.”
“Someone like you wouldn’t know what this is all about. Stand down before I make you stand down.”
“I know all about it. My family was persecuted for decades because of people like you.”
“Well if your family hadn’t been sorcerors, nothing would have happened to you.”
Jean, in anger, reached out and grabbed Samson by the throat. Beneath his armor, his muscles bunched as he lifted the man off the deck with one hand. “We were not sorcerors!” he yelled.
Samson’s face began to redden as Jean cut off his air supply.
Dunstan was worried, he tried to restore some calm. “Look, just because he worked for the church…”
“The same church that slaughtered millions when they didn’t bow the same gods!”
“Still…” Dunstan was unsure.
“I may not like the man, but that’s no reason to kill him!” said Khadija.
“He killed her, because she had power, even if she turned her back it.”
Samson choked out a few words. “It isn’t true. This is mutiny!”
“Jean,” Orange said. “He came to our aid before. He’s not like that.”
“Are you sure?” Kor said. “Were you there when Charity died? Samson was always jealous of you.”
“His throw was perfectly aimed. Ill admit that.” Orange said.
“Tell me, sir.” Orange said. “Did your church perform human sacrifices?”
“His kind did.” Jean answered.
Samson could only sputter some curses. Behind him, Ren was thoughtful, tears trying to well up in his eyes.
“No one should sacrifice another, its no better than murder.” Orange said, anger beginning to grow. “There’s only one punishment for murder.”
The rest of the crew were starting to mumble their own opinions. Dangling several inches above the deck, Samson noticed, and his face paled.
“It’s beginning to look bad for you, Samson.”
As if waiting for a cue, Lorenzo stepped up behind Samson, and in one movement drew two daggers, shoving them deep into Samson’s back. This is for Charity you son of a bitch!”
Samson gurgled, and then died. Jean threw the limp body overboard. The ship had mutinied.
Chapter 8 Mutinous Dogs!
Captain Perri wouldn’t take his ship on a mission such as Jean wanted him to go on. Instead he sent his backup ship, the Malasian warship. Of course, it would be some time before Jean knew that this ship used to belong to the navy of Mala.
As Samson turned the ship to the south, Jean decided it might be time to talk to some of the crew, and find out a few more details about Charity’s death.
Khadija and Kor were conspiring about something, and the rest were busy with their on duties, so he wandered below decks and wound up outside Lorenzo’s medical quarters. He knocked politely before opening the door and walking in. Lorenzo looked up from his work, and with an indifferent sort of sigh, turned back to it.
“Something I can help you with Baron?” he asked.
“Possibly. I’ve been listening to the crew. It would seem that Charity was well liked here.”
Lorenzo put down his quill, and rubbed his eyes. “Yes.” He agreed. “She was.”
“Do you know I never met her? At least, not a true meeting. I was introduced. Our marriage was arranged by myself and her grandmother.” He noticed the look on Lorenzo’s face. “Does that seem odd to you?”
Ren leaned forward and clasped his hands together. “No, not really.”
“Anyway, I came here to find out a bit about what she was like, I thought you might…”
“Might what?” Ren interrupted.
“Tell me of her while she was here. I’d like to know.”
“Well, one of the others might be able to tell you more. I’m not feeling particularly well right now.” Ren stood. “So unless you have a medical emergency…” With his eyes, he indicated the door.
Jean raised an eyebrow. If Lorenzo was going to play it like that, he could see there was going to be a lot of work needed to create a workable relationship. Jean nodded, and turned away. ‘Then again,’ he thought, ‘I’ll only be aboard ship for a couple of days, so it really won’t matter.’
************************************************
“I feel like a song!” Charity declared. She got up and walked past the nobleman in the crowd to where the musicians were sitting.
Ren watched with amusement as she crossed the room. Like many of the other patrons, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She talked to the band, and passed a couple of coins to them. They started a new tune, one that started slow.
She danced. It was easy to tell that she had danced most of her life. She had more grace in her movements than any woman Ren had ever seen. She would flash her eyes at him as she danced, that little smile on the corner of her mouth. She was almost hypnotic, and Ren’s heart swelled as he watched.
He hadn’t made a move yet. Ren wasn’t the cowardly type, but for some reason he had never made his feelings for her known.
The music sped up, and so did she, her hips taking on a new rhythm to match. The crowd had begun to clear an area for her so she would have room to dance, several were beginning to clap to the music. Ren was surprised when he noticed Dunstan was among those clapping along. He felt a momentary pang of jealousy.
The pace of the music was becoming frenzied, her movements so quick, it was hard to keep up with her. Her booted feet were making their own addition to the music, raising the whole act to a crescendo that would have made her famous in any theatre. She was sweating now, too, and her hair was starting to cling to her face, but still she danced, she whirled, she jumped, clapped. She was perfection in motion, and Ren could not help but feel that he would do anything for her. Anything.
Then she shouted, and stomped once, and the music ended. The crowd began applause in earnest, and slowly, the spell broken, they each returned to their own business. She walked back toward Ren. She was breathing heavily as she leaned past him to get the bartender to pour her another pint. Smiling, the bartender told her that one was on the house. She emptied it in one go, then sat next to Ren, leaning back against the bar.
She looked at him, smiled, and brushed one lock of sweat soaked hair out of her face.
It was but one moment Lorenzo would never forget.
**********************************************************
Samson was not happy with the turn of events. “Sailing into Mala,” he muttered, “with one of their ships, and one of their nobles. It’s suicide.”
Aoife defended her captain. “Well, I’m sure Perri has a plan. This is a risk, true. But he wouldn’t take it on if he...or we…couldn’t handle it.”
“Nonetheless. Baron!” he called. “Would you come here please?”
Jean walked up to the wheel, where Samson stood. “What is it?”
“Do you live in the main city, or can we drop you at any port? I don’t like the looks of all those warships out there.”
Jean looked out to sea. Out on the horizon were several war sloops. They were definitely Mala ships, but the Baron could not afford to be seen on a pirate vessel. His reputation at home was already shaky enough. “I live in the capital, or at least near by. The closer we can get, the better.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen. If I drop you at the city of the dead, can you make the rest of the trip yourself?”
“Well it would add two days, but I suppose I could.”
“Did you just say city of the dead?” Aoife asked.
“Yeah, he did.” Jean answered. “It’s a religious city. Its actually named Azarial. It used to be a demon prince’s palace, but the First banished him and built his own palace atop the ruins. Legend says the dead still walk here.”
“And you just want to drop him there?”
“As good a place as any. We need supplies anyway.”
“I don’t like it.” Aoife said.
“Don’t worry, lady. Your precious skin isn’t in danger. You might even find work here.”
“What do you mean by that?” she said, indignant.
“I know what it is you do. I’ve met satisfied customers.”
“How dare you!”
“That settles it.” Samson adjusted the ships course. “Baron, we’re putting you off here.”
“My apologies lady.” Jean backed down quickly. “I meant no harm. Samson, our arrangement was for further down the coast.”
“And you are dragging us into dangerous territory. I’m cutting our losses here.”
“I get the idea you are trying to get rid of me.”
“So what if I am? You can go on your merry way without us. Surely someone like you doesn’t need a bodyguard?”
Jean could only glare. Yes, one day, this particular pirate would pay. It really didn’t matter if they put to shore here or not. In fact, the cold reception he’d gotten from the crew since he arrived made it so he wanted to rid of this ship himself. He went below and started packing his things. Once done, he went on deck and watched the coastline approach.
Kor came to the railing beside him. “Samson’s putting you off, is he?”
Jean nodded. “It’s okay, I know people here.”
“Good. You know, you shouldn’t judge us by Samson. He’s not on good terms with everyone else. He’s done some things in the past, that really has more than a few of us upset.”
“He’s an insufferable coward who wants me off his ship, so he can run off with his tail between his legs. I’ll go.”
“Its just, you remind him of Charity. He’s the one that killed her.”
Jean frowned, and looked at Samson. “What do you mean?”
“When she had the ghoul fever. He pinned her to the deck with a dagger, rather than let Ren try to cure her.”
“He killed her?” Anger began to boil. Because of Samson, his tenuous grip on power in Mala had been thrown away.
“He claimed it’s because she attacked him.” Kor said, watching Jean’s reaction. “We were all asleep. By the time we knew anything was going on, she was dead, his dagger in her heart. All we have is his word.”
There were a few moments of silence, before Kor began again. “He is a very harsh man. He used to work for the inquisition.”
“He worked for the inquisition? Why did you tolerate him?”
“Well it isn’t like we had a lot of choice. He’s one of the captain’s favorites.”
“All the more reason for me to go ashore.”
“Perhaps I have a reason for you to not go.”
“What do you mean?” Jean narrowed his eyes.
“Well you did some research looking for us. Did you really think someone wouldn’t look into your past? He spilled the beans. There are wanted posters going up. 300 gold pieces, for you. Seems someone told the council you had become a pirate.”
“That son of a bitch.”
Kor nodded. “Most of the crew would love to be rid of him. You see, she found a treasure map. Word is she was the one who could rally the crew together to find it. He’d never go for it himself, not with this crew. Rumour has it, he killed her so he wouldn’t have to share.”
Jean was so angered that he didn’t notice at all that Kor was leading him down a dangerous path. It didn’t matter. Within moments, he was calling Samson out.
Samson came down the stairs, his brows furrowed. “What’s all this then?”
“You killed her, didn’t you?”
“What? Of course I did, she was out of her mind. I mean I only tried to wound her. What difference does it make to you?”
“You stupid callous moron. Because of you, the oppression over Mala could become worse.”
“Hey, I was just defending myself. You’d have done the same.”
The rest of the crew by now had noticed a commotion and were starting to gather around.
“Now I know why my presence here makes you uncomfortable. You recognized me. You were afraid I’d recognize you.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“You knew she was from Mala, too. You knew that she might turn you in as the criminal you are.” Then to the rest, “He killed Charity so she couldn’t turn him in!”
Samson growled, going for his weapon. “I’d quiet down if I were you.”
“You can’t make me.”
“Someone like you wouldn’t know what this is all about. Stand down before I make you stand down.”
“I know all about it. My family was persecuted for decades because of people like you.”
“Well if your family hadn’t been sorcerors, nothing would have happened to you.”
Jean, in anger, reached out and grabbed Samson by the throat. Beneath his armor, his muscles bunched as he lifted the man off the deck with one hand. “We were not sorcerors!” he yelled.
Samson’s face began to redden as Jean cut off his air supply.
Dunstan was worried, he tried to restore some calm. “Look, just because he worked for the church…”
“The same church that slaughtered millions when they didn’t bow the same gods!”
“Still…” Dunstan was unsure.
“I may not like the man, but that’s no reason to kill him!” said Khadija.
“He killed her, because she had power, even if she turned her back it.”
Samson choked out a few words. “It isn’t true. This is mutiny!”
“Jean,” Orange said. “He came to our aid before. He’s not like that.”
“Are you sure?” Kor said. “Were you there when Charity died? Samson was always jealous of you.”
“His throw was perfectly aimed. Ill admit that.” Orange said.
“Tell me, sir.” Orange said. “Did your church perform human sacrifices?”
“His kind did.” Jean answered.
Samson could only sputter some curses. Behind him, Ren was thoughtful, tears trying to well up in his eyes.
“No one should sacrifice another, its no better than murder.” Orange said, anger beginning to grow. “There’s only one punishment for murder.”
The rest of the crew were starting to mumble their own opinions. Dangling several inches above the deck, Samson noticed, and his face paled.
“It’s beginning to look bad for you, Samson.”
As if waiting for a cue, Lorenzo stepped up behind Samson, and in one movement drew two daggers, shoving them deep into Samson’s back. This is for Charity you son of a bitch!”
Samson gurgled, and then died. Jean threw the limp body overboard. The ship had mutinied.
