Chapter 1. Thaily the Buccaneer.

	Pipe smoke hung in the air, trailing lazily up from the pipe in Nicholai’s hand. He sat, flanked by Corwyn and Caitlin, behind a large table covered in various scrolls, letters, and maps. On the far right, next to Caitlin sat Greymane, also smoking a pipe. In front of then, with his air of bored indifference slipping just a little, stood Jean-Paul Arneviste. All four were staring at him as if he were nothing more than the lowest of beggars. Off to his left, bound and guarded, were several of his officers. No doubt to answer charges, as he himself was about to do. And to his right, the four Dragons he was supposed to have taken to his father. They, however, looked more like guests, than captives. None were bound, not even the two who had been prisoners, and all looked comfortable and at ease. Damn them. The three Cats and one Wolf in front of him had been talking quietly amongst themselves and Arneviste hadn’t been able to catch a word. The Crown Prince nodded and Corwyn stood, a sheet of parchment in his hand.

“Jean-Paul Arneviste, you are charged with the following crimes.” The attention of almost everyone switched to Corwyn. Two of the Dragons still watched him, though they were clearly listening. The girl, Pahele, was staring at him with a great deal of malice. And Branin, the black one who’d taunted him, watched with a vaguely amused look.

“That as of this time, you have committed five acts of Piracy against Imperial vessels. That you attacked the Bountiful and took its cargo, causing the deaths of eight of its crew. That you attacked the Sea Sprite, taking important documents and sinking the vessel. That you attacked the Catharine, taking its cargo, and causing the deaths of four of her crew. That you attacked the Swift, taking from it valuable jewels and gifts intended for an upcoming family wedding, and killing one of it’s crew.”

He paused. He could feel his anger rising, and he stopped for a moment to calm down. This had to be done right. “That you attacked the Kessellon’s Pride. That you willfully murdered her entire crew after you were spotted during the attack and identified by the captain, one Jon Amberstar. That you killed Lord Gregory Moonsilver, his son Nathan, and his wife Amelia, who was also raped by members of your crew.” A tear rolled down Corwyn’s cheek. The Moonsilver’s had been family friends; he’d known Gregory since they were both children. A moment’s pause.

“That you killed Darius, Firstborn Hammerfall. That you killed Lord Henry Rowantree and his brother Edward. That you killed Lady Elizabeth Riverton, again raped by your men. That you killed David Yamenhi, his son John, and his daughter Sarah, who was raped by you, and members of your crew.” He blinked away tears. They’d known that there were passengers from their informant, bud didn’t know who they were. And they had received the passenger manifesto only a few hours ago. He knew these people; some were close friends. And one was more.

“Finally,” he said, struggling to keep his voice cracking with grief and fury, “you alone are guilty of the kidnap, and repeated rape of one Megan Amberstar, a… a thirteen year old Lady-in-Waiting, in service to the Moonsilvers, currently believed to be imprisoned in your family estate.” He walked up to Jean-Paul, and whispered in his ear. “If I don’t find my niece alive when I get there, I’ll end your miserable family line. Understand? Your father will never see his son alive again.” Jean-Paul said nothing. He’d already tested this one’s boundaries, and wasn’t keen to see if he could push further.

The look of boredom had gone. He still wasn’t scared; he knew full well his value to the Amberstar family as a hostage. No, all that worried him was that it wasn’t likely he’d ever command a ship again, and that his father would confine him to the estate. His eyes narrowed as the Crown Prince rose from his chair.

“Firstborn Arneviste, normally dealing with piracy is purely the province of the Imperial Fleet. But since all of your attacks were against Amberstar vessels, it has been decided that they will deal with you as they see fit.” Jean-Paul sneered; he’d expected as much. “Several of your officers will also go back to Kessellon with you. Those of your men we found had been enthusiastic in your crimes, particularly in the rapes and murders, have already been executed. The rest will toil in the Kessellon Harbour for the remainder of their days. That is all. Take them away.” He sat back heavily, and ran his fingers back through his mane. Silently, Arneviste and his officers were led away.

Corwyn came back around the table, crouching by his mother, who had started to cry. They hugged. “I’ll find her, mum, I’ll find her…”

“Oh Gods, my beautiful grand-daughter, oh no… what do I tell her, Corwyn? What do I tell Bronwyn?”

“I don’t know, mum. Maybe best to say nothing, in case she’s… she didn’t make it.”

Nicholai waved the guards away, leaving the three Cats, the Wolf, and four Dragons alone. He rubbed his eyes; this was a terrible affair. Almost a hundred killed in total for one man’s greed and ambition. But the Arnevistes weren’t paupers. There was something deeper, and though he itched to know what, he’d promised Kate he’d let her handle it. And then there was the matter of the Dragons.

The four Dragons were more than a little uncomfortable. Kalisandra and Branin understood the loss of kin. The whole community mourned the death of a Dragon; each was so precious, so rare. Of course, the Lesser Races bred like flies, but family bonds seemed just as close. Tethion wrapped his daughter in both left arm and wing. The half-breed had looked at his daughter like prey, and no doubt he’d have done to her what he had done to this Tiger’s grand-daughter. As for Pahele, she was softly crying. Both for herself, and the little Tiger girl. The poor thing, how awful. She leant against her father. All turned to face Nicholai as he dragged a chair across to where they sat, and flopped in it, facing them.

“I’m trusting Corwyn when he says you were just passengers on Arneviste’s ship. So I’ll allow you to return to Kessellon as their guests. Don’t let him down.” Nicholai said quietly.

Valkos’s reply was stiff, formal. “A Dragon does not break oath, Lion.”

“Neither does an Leonov, Dragon. Nor an Amberstar.” Unlike Greymane, Nicholai had dealt with several Dragons in the past, and their attitude didn’t faze him at all. He rose, and moved to the open entrance, where he spoke briefly to a guard, before retuning to the group. “We break camp at dawn, so I advise rest… will you be ok, Kate?”

Caitlin was quickly regaining her composure. It wouldn’t do for the Commander of the Imperial forces here to be seen as anything other than in complete control. “I’ll… be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Goodnight then.” He bowed, turned, and walked out into the evening light. Greymane rose, and excused himself, following the Prince.

Corwyn helped his mother to her feet, with the Dragons taking that as a cue to rise too. He turned to face them. “We’ll talk once we’re back in Amberstar Hall, in more… civilized surroundings, if that’s all right with you?”

“Yes, I’d rather like to get out of this damnable mud. Tell me, this hall, does it have furnishings big enough for us to be comfortable?” Valkos asked.

“It does, we’ve played host to a Dragon on occasion. Strikes me just how different you all are…”

Valkos smiled. “True, no two of us are alike.”

Caitlin sighed. “Let’s leave this for another time. It’s late, and the day has drained me. We can talk some as we travel. C’mon Corwyn…” She walked form the tent, Corwyn close behind.

Branin was the first to speak. ‘Well, could you tell? It’s a little too dark in here for me to be sure.’

‘Yes.’ Valkos looked troubled. ‘He’s Bonded, all right. Worse yet, so is she.’

“What?” So great was Branin’s surprise, he spoke aloud.

‘Quietspeech please, love.’

‘Sorry Kali… Valkos? That can’t be, I mean, how? We never have more than one Bonded Kin in any given area.’

‘Possibly she was pregnant when she Bonded.’

‘Is that possible?’

‘No idea, but we do need to find who he’s Bound to. I mean, I’ve heard of this Kessellon, it’s a fairly major trade port for the Leonov Empire, but it’s not strategically or culturally important for us to have a permanent placement here…’

‘You don’t suppose they have…?’

‘Gods above… I think we need to report this home once we’re finished here.’

‘Agreed.’

Pahele pouted; she hated to be excluded. “Daddy? I’m cold…”

“Sorry, Pahele, let’s go get some sleep, hmm?”

Placing an arm around her shoulders, Valkos led his daughter out.

Kalisandra placed her huge hands on Branin’s shoulders. “Cute, huh?”

“Getting ideas Kali?”

“Hey, we’re neither of us gettin’ any younger. I’d like to have at least one, y’know.”

Branin smirked, placing his hands on top of hers. “You know… the sooner the better… and there’s nobody using this tent right now…”

Kalisandra went to the entrance, looked about briefly, and closed the tent-flaps. “Oh yes there is…”

Outside, Luna began to climb into the sky.


	He watched the heavy coach trundle away. His mother had elected to take their guests straight back, leaving Corwyn to organize the troops, and send each group back to their respective posts. A small, familiar figure appeared at his side.

“Your orders, sir?”

“Hello Jamaal. No, no orders as yet. You did very well for us, my friend, and we won’t forget it.”

“J…just doing my job, sir…” he stammered.

“Maybe so, but you did it well, Jamaal. My mother values loyalty, bravery, and enthusiasm. Once all the reports have been finished, chances are, she’ll reward you somehow. At the very least, I know you’re to be given a commendation.”

“A commendation?” Jamaal was thrilled.

“Well, if not for you, we’d not have been able to cut them off, and they could have scattered to the winds… or worse yet, raided Eledia. We certainly can’t let such a deed go unrecognized, hmm?”

“Thank you, sir.”

Corwyn held out a hand. “Told you before, call me Corwyn.”

Jamaal took the offered hand, his own looking very small, and the pair shook on it. “Corwyn it is then. What now?”

“Well, once Greymane has finished his report, we’ll break camp, and the garrisons will head back to their posts. And I’ve still got to write letters to the relatives of those who died during the fight.” He looked grim. This was one of those inevitabilities that come after a battle. He never liked it. Better get started, he thought. He turned towards the tent.

“When I first arrived in Kessellon, I was bit jealous of all the finery and comfort I saw. But I don’t envy you this, Corwyn. So much responsibility to bear. I couldn’t handle it. How do you cope?”

Corwyn looked back, a wry smile on his face. “Training. Lots and lots of training.” So saying, he entered the tent.

Jamaal’s stomach rumbled. He’d drunk a lot of hot, sweet coffee, but hadn’t actually eaten yet. Time to find the mess tent.



	Pahele gazed out of the window. She felt much better, now that she was in decent clothes. While they hadn’t been able to find anything that fit Kalisandra, they’d found something in Lord Amberstar’s clothes that was suitable. It did seem crowded in the wagon, though. It hadn’t been build with someone of Kalisandra’s size in mind, and her father was stooping too, but Pahele didn’t mind. They were out of the clutches of that horrible gray thing, and soon they’d be going home. Outside the coach, the rain was finally dying away, and patches of sunlight dotted the rolling fields. She’d not seen such open rolling country before coming here. Home, the shining island city of Sunspear, was a craggy mountainous affair, thick with forest and scattered marble buildings. Sure, there were trees here, but they were in scattered clumps, rather than the blanket of green she’d grown up on. She quite liked it. Unfamiliar animals wandered in some of the fields.

“Daddy? What are those?”

“Those are cows, Pahele. I think someone’s been skipping her lessons?” The tone was serious, but his face was smiling.

She blushed. Intellectually, she knew what a cow was, that it was the source of various meats, but she’d completely forgotten what they looked like. To her, such knowledge was useless anyway. Lord Valkos, her father, was an important man; she’d never labour, or have to worry over such things. But she was embarrassed that she’d forgotten such a simple thing. There was a chuckle and she looked up. The Tiger was watching her. The eyes were kind, and there was a gentle smile on her lips. It was the first time Pahele had seen her smile since they’d met. She’d seemed so fierce at first, and then, once her anger had drained, so very sad. Thinking of her grand daughter, most likely. Pahele shivered.

“Cold?” Caitlin asked. Pahele nodded. “There are blankets under your seat, in those drawers. Take whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” She dug around, finding a heavy white blanket, thick and warm, and smelling of lavender. It was soft to the touch, and she pulled it around herself, and leant back, into the corner, against the window. She relaxed and, tired as she was, was asleep in moments.

“Such a pretty young thing. How old is she?”

“She turns seventeen in four days.” Valkos said, smiling.

“Oh? Then we should host a party for her. That is, assuming your kind celebrates birthdays?”

“Yes, we do. And I’m sure she’d be delighted. After all we were expecting to spend her birthday as captives,” he shot a glance at the Brokenfangs, “and instead we’ll spend it as guests.”

“Ah yes. Captives. Yet you all seem friendly enough to me. Tell me, just for curiosities sake, just what were you doing on Arneviste’s ship?”

All three looked at each other. ‘What do we tell her, Valkos?’ Kalisandra asked. Earlier, back in the tent when Arneviste was charged, they’d found they could ‘whisper’ without any sign they were heard.

Caitlin, with senses sharper than Corwyn’s, was just able to hear Kalisandra’s whispered question. She said nothing; better to let them think she couldn’t hear them.

‘As little as possible, while sticking to the truth.’ Valkos replied. “It’s a kind of hostage exchange. Arneviste’s father has something Kalisandra’s clan want, while my clan has something he wants.”

“Ah, I see…” Caitlin’s ear twitched. She closed her eyes and considered that. A few seconds later she opened them again, with a sly smile crossing her face. “I also have something he wants. Tell me, what does he have? It’s not a hostage; you said something, rather than someone, after all.”

“I can’t really say. It’s a… sensitive matter.”

“You know, I also have something he wants. His only son, last of their line…” She sat back, hands behind her head.

Valkos narrowed his eyes. “What, precisely, do you mean by that, Tiger?”

“Only that he might value his son more that whatever your people have to offer…”

Valkos sat back, arms crossed. ‘Say nothing, you two, let her have her moment.’

“What was your offer to him?”

“Trade. The finest gems and weapons, in exchange for certain herbs and delicacies we don’t, or can’t, produce ourselves.”

“Interesting… sounds like a very small concession, for something valuable enough for Dragons to hand over two of their own kind as hostages. Arneviste doesn’t know what he holds, does he?”

‘I don’t think I like how this is sounding…’ Branin muttered.

“Perhaps he’d trade it to me instead, for his son, hmm?”

‘Fuck. What the hell do we do, Valkos?’

“Then, perhaps, we could do business instead…” She sat forwards, leaning on her knees. “Everyone gets what they want, except Arneviste and his bastard son. Think of it, if it wasn’t for them would we be in this mess right now?”

Ah, so that was it. Revenge. “We’ll consider it.” Kalisandra said.

“What’s to consider? I can get whatever there is he’ll trade for his son. And I can always deal directly with Valkos and his people directly, and cut you out, Brokenfang.”

‘Valkos, remember, you gave us your word.’

‘I will. But I think her idea has merit. Not the least of which is the humiliation of that gray fool. Look at where he’s landed us. Remember, every day that Arneviste has his hands on Luna’s Tear, there’s a chance he’ll accidentally trigger it.” Caitlin had to force herself to stay quiet. They were after Luna’s Tear? She’d learnt the legends, heard the stories. Only… she herself knew some of the legends were true. And if Arneviste had something that powerful… She couldn’t let that happen.

“Look at it this way. Would you rather deal with Armand Arneviste, an influential military man, who has no mercantile experience? Someone who’ll just pass off your business to a third party, making prices slightly higher, with no guarantee of steady supply? Or would you rather deal with an influential family, with a vast merchant network, already dealing in the things you want, and with hundreds of connections? Ask around in Kessellon when we get there. Ask about the Amberstar’s reputation, you won’t be disappointed. But perhaps I’m being too pushy. I mean this is hardly an ideal place to batter out an agreement. Take your time; consider it carefully. We can talk about it again once we’re in town. In the meantime,” she said, digging under her seat, “I suggest we get some rest.” Wrapping a blanket around herself, Caitlin settled into a corner. She tried to rest but thoughts of Megan kept intruding, and Caitlin turned to face the window, the better to hide her tears. Sleep was a long time coming.


	They stood on the main deck, watching the troops being ferried to the ships. Jamaal, despite his hatred of swimming, loved sailing. Not for the actual sailing itself, but for the free time it gave him. He only ever sailed when delivering messages to places off of the mainland, and that meant he wasn’t running all day, which gave him time to read. Mainly he read histories and travelogues, and he studied maps of far off countries, so that he was more likely to be picked as a courier to exotic, and wonderful new places. He regretted he had no books or maps with him today. Perhaps the ship’s captain would allow him access to the map room?

“Corwyn, d’you think Prince Nicholai would let me study the ships maps?”

“I’ll ask him once we’re ready to leave.”

“Thanks.” His attention was drawn back to the ship’s boat, not too far away, from which he could see the small team of Otters, led by a Dolphin, diving to the single ship of Arneviste’s three which had sank, just over a mile from shore. The little salvage team had almost completed their task, recovering almost everything of value they could find. It was, of course, in their own interests to find everything they could, even the silver cutlery. Ages past, to discourage people turning up at a wreck and grabbing whatever they could for themselves, and thus taking goods belonging to some merchant or noble, or even the navy, it had been made illegal for anyone other than licensed salvage companies, operating for the true owner, from even approaching a sunk ship, except to aid survivors. In return for offering such a service, the company would receive a twenty percent cut of the value of the salvage. Thus a salvage team could make very little on one job, where the cargo had been personal effects or important documents, to considerable sums, if the ship carried expensive goods. The Dolphin clambered into the boat. Looks like they’re finished, Jamaal thought. Rather than follow, the four Otters swam to the boat’s stern, and kicking away with their powerful legs, easily pushed it through the water towards them. Crewmen swung out the winches, and slowly raised the laden boat back up to the deck. The salvage team looked pleased. As their baskets were lifted onto the deck it was clear to see why. There was quite a bit of coinage, assorted silverware, and several very expensive looking pieces of jewelry. No doubt looted during the raids, they’d need to be assayed before the group was paid, and the items returned to their original owners. That is, if they’re still alive, Corwyn thought grimly. He pawed through the rest of the stuff. Some wet documents, a pouch of wet pistol quality gunpowder and some assorted personal affects.

“Very good, we’ll have it sorted and assayed as soon as we get to Kessellon. You’ll be paid then, though we will give you your cut of the actual coinage once it’s counted.” He gestured, and an officer who’d been standing nearby, came over.

“Yes, sir?” asked the young Wolf.

“I’d like someone to make a list of the recovered items, detailing any hallmarks and so on. And pay the gentleman once the money’s been counted.”

“Yes sir.” He turned to the waiting group. “If you could please follow me?”

As they passed, one of the Otters, a young woman, winked at Jamaal. “Hi cutie.” Then they were gone.

“Did she just call me cute?” Jamaal asked.

Corwyn laughed, and clapped a hand on Jamaal’s shoulder. “Not shy, are you? Better watch out, Otters can be very… playful. I’m guessing that one’s just decided where she’s sleeping tonight. Or not, as the case may be.”

Jamaal flushed. “Really? You… you really think that?”

“Sure. Look, they’ve just salvaged a pretty expensive selection of goods. Their share’s likely to be a few thousand crowns. So they’re happy and excited. Enjoy it, I’m sure she will.” He grinned. “Hmm, maybe I should make a pass at the other one…” Corwyn muttered to himself.

“Erm, trying not to be personal here, but aren’t you kind of big? I mean, in comparison to her? That is…”

Corwyn chuckled. “Calm down, Jamaal, I know what you mean. Yes, you’re probably right, I am a bit of a bruiser, right enough.” He turned back, hands on the rail. “Ah, me. The only time I regret it is when there’s someone small and cute around. Most of the time, being built like a brick shithouse is pretty useful to a guy in my line of work.”

“I can imagine, but surely there are some women back in Kessellon who are, eh, sturdy enough?”

“Heh, sure there are, and I particularly recommend the ladies of the Lilac Curtain, on Kessel’s way. Bit expensive for some, but well worth it.”

“A brothel? I’d have thought the Firstborn would have a horde of willing admirers.”

“A horde of gold diggers, you mean. I’ve burned there a few times, and at least at the Lilac Curtain the girls are honest enough to take their gold directly without trying to manipulate me.”

“Well, that sure sounded bitter.”

“I suppose. But the way some folks eyes light up when they realize who I am doesn’t make me the most trusting of Tigers.” He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of a door. “I think that’s your friend.”

Jamaal turned to see the team coming back through the door, still wet from swimming. All five were dressed almost identically, in very tight shorts, with a couple of belt pouches, and nothing else. Not that Jamaal minded having a couple of topless Otter girls about. One went off, arm in arm, with one of the men, obviously a couple, to the room the group had been allocated. The others came across to where Corwyn and Jamaal stood. The Dolphin was the first to speak.

“Evening, gents, may we join you?”

“Feel free.” Corwyn answered.

The remaining Otter girl walked up to Jamaal and whispered in his ear. “You got somewhere I can dry off? It’s getting a little cold.” She hugged his right arm, and he could feel her breasts rubbing against his arm. A huge grin split his face.

“Y…yes. Yes I do. It’s this way.” As he passed Corwyn, he briefly noticed the big Tiger grinning, and giving him a thumb’s up.

“I’m Carl,” the Dolphin said, “and this is Todd.”

The little Otter held out a hand. “Pleased ta meetcha.”

Corwyn shook hands. “Corwyn.”

“So was it a pirate attack sunk the ship? It’s been holed by cannon fire just below the water line in a couple of places.”

“No, we sunk it. Pirate ship.”

“Ah, I see…” Carl said. “Did the survivors make it to shore? We did find a few bodies, but not enough to man a ship that size.” He didn’t have to say that they’d thought a quick prayer to the dead man, and left the body undisturbed. It was a common superstition amongst seafarers that you don’t disturb the rest of those lost at sea unless they wash up on shore.

“Yes, but they’re all in custody now.” He looked them over. Both looked tired. “Y’know, I heard you’d been diving all day, aren’t you tired?”

“Bloody knackered.” Todd sighed. “But Cara and Mick only got married a month back, so we thought we’d give ‘em a bit of alone time before we go buggin’ ‘em… hey, did ya see the big shiteatin’ grin on that Cheetah’s face?”

Corwyn chuckled. “I think her… decision surprised him. He’s a courier, as if you couldn’t guess that, and people don’t usually throw themselves at couriers. Heh, I think he’ll be grinning like that for days.”

“Well, Mary’s kinda excitable. And since yer fella in there thinks we’re lookin’ at a grand each in commish, I think she’s probably got good reason. I mean that’s damn good money for a day’s work, I tell ya.”

“Well you did find some good stuff there.”

“Wish we could’ve got the cannons out. Can’t do it with a crew of five though,” Carl said wistfully, “but you’d need twice that just to manhandle them out of the hull, and proper winching gear to bring them up. That would’ve added a nice bonus, eh? Eight cannons?”

“Wouldya listen to the Boss? A grand each, and he’s still not satisfied?”

Carl shrugged. “One day I’ll be to old for this; got to make sure I’ve got plenty stashed away for then.”

“Aye, right. Like you’ll ever retire, you miser.”

“Who could afford to retire when they’re carrying you deadbeats?”

“Deadbeats? I dove twice as much as you today!” Todd replied, feigning anger.

Carl held up his hands and shrugged. “So? You can only hold your breath half as long, after all.”

Corwyn watched the exchange, chuckling. It was quite clear that the pair were close friends, despite their words. It was the same with him and his sister Teshia. At sixteen, the baby of the family, loved by all. Often, she and Corwyn had similar mock arguments, and she gave as good as she got. And her voice. She had the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard, and she delighted in singing. She was so good that the family would often gather just to hear her practice. In particular, she loved duets. She’d sing anything, with anybody. She’d sung some of the great operatic works with Corwyn, and she’d sung children’s rhymes with Megan… His face fell, and he gazed out across the sea. How would Teshia take it? Megan was her favourite niece; they’d grown up together, and were the closest of friends. Practically sisters. He rubbed his eyes, and looked to the steady embarkation. An hour till we set sail, he thought. Good, the sooner he was back in Kessellon, the sooner he could leave for Pellandria.

“Captain Amberstar, a moment of your time please?” Corwyn bowed slightly to Prince Nicholai and followed him back inside.

“Was that who I think it was?” Todd asked.

“Yup. And that also means we’ve just been speaking to Firstborn Amberstar too.” He started laughing. “Heh, Kessellon’s most eligible bachelor’s on this very ship, and Mary’s bunked up with the messenger boy.”

“Oh man, I can’t wait to see her face when she finds out.”


	Jamaal lay watching her as she slept, her breasts rising and falling with her breath. She was, he decided, very cute. Particularly the nose, he thought. He wanted to kiss it, but that might wake her, and she had been tired. Both from the days work, and from the evening’s passion. I could get used to things like this. Not that he didn’t have the odd fling now and again, but women generally didn’t throw themselves at the messenger boy. He smiled, letting his gaze wander down her body. There was a cute tuft of fur high on her chest, framed by her breasts, small but well formed. He very much wanted to touch them again, feel their softness contrasting the roughness of his hands. He wanted to kiss them; feel them against his face the way he did when she’d been on top. But he wasn’t going to touch her up while she slept, that just seemed wrong. It was very frustrating. The fact of the matter was that, since he hadn’t exerted himself in the last couple of days, he simply wasn’t tired. He didn’t need to sleep, even if she did, so all he could do was wait. The gentle creaking of ropes and the rocking of the ship, and the dim light of the turned down lamp gave the setting a dreamy feeling to him, and a very pleasant one at that.

“…mmm, ‘s cold…” She shifted in her sleep, rolling toward him, her left arm flopping over his waist. He pulled the sheet up, covering her, feeling oddly embarrassed. Considering all they’d been up to, he’d have thought himself past any embarrassment. She drew in closer, head on his chest. He put his left hand on her shoulder gently, and she sighed. Mary. That’s what she said her name was. He wondered if she remembered his name. Did it matter? No, not really, he thought. She’d been looking for a quick fling, and he’d been both available, and more than willing. He licked his lips, still tasting her in the soft fur of his muzzle. He felt himself harden, pressing against her thigh. She stirred again, blinked, and sat up.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you…”

“S’okay…” She stretched and yawned. “Mmmm… worse ways to wake up… been awake long?”

“Haven’t slept. Not tired.”

“I can see that.” She cupped his balls, and gently ran her fingers the length of his cock. He thrilled to the touch, and reached to pull her close.

“And you? Are you tired?”

“Not any more…”

In the next cabin, Corwyn paused mid-word, and grinned. “You go for it Jamaal,” he muttered. Even if he hadn’t still been writing up his grim report of the casualties, he very much doubted he’d be able to sleep with the sounds coming from next door. He had to admit he felt a little jealous, but Jamaal was more her size, after all. For a moment he thought of Colleen, a gorgeous black Wolf who worked at the Lilac Curtain, but he had work to do, and he was getting very tired. He dipped his quill back into the ink, and went back to his writing.


	The docks bustled, as they always did. Night and day, ships loaded and unloaded cargo without cease, not only for the ruling family, the Great House Amberstar, but also for the host of merchant families and companies that had made Kessellon their home. The seafront was a massive array of docks and wharfs that extended far to either side of the heavily fortified Naval yard. The great ship slowly drifted past the multitude of lesser ships, towards the great maw of this fort, settling against the quayside with ease. Ropes were cast; lines were tied.

“It’s always good to be home.” Corwyn said, though his face was grim.

“It is, though I would’ve liked a couple more days at sea…” Jamaal, by contrast, was beaming. He’d spent much of the night, and a good deal of the morning, romping with Mary, and he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. She stood nearby, in a conspiratorial huddle with the other Otter girl, giggling and pointing. He hoped she was being complimentary.

“I have a job for you, Jamaal. Take these documents to the Castle; give them to the first officer you see, and tell them I’m on my way.”

“Yessir.”

“And this is for you.” He handed Jamaal a purse, and a letter. “There’s a hundred Crowns in there, and two weeks leave to spend them in.”

“B…but…”

“That’s an order, Captain, enjoy yourself.”

“Yes Sir!” He didn’t need to be told twice, and loped off at an easy pace. He watched him till he left the dock, and walked over to the Captain’s quarters. He knocked.

“Enter.”

He stepped inside. The early evening sun streamed in through the windows, accentuating both the prince’s golden fur, and Corwyn’s orange tones. Nicholai stood with his back to the door, leaning on the window-ledge, and watching the activity outside. “I’m glad you haven’t inherited your mother’s temper, Corwyn. Permission granted.”

“Sire?”

“I know you want to go and find your niece as soon as possible. Go. But try to keep your temper in check. Give my regards to your mother for me, and tell her I’ll be by in the morning to see her and her… your guests.”

Corwyn bowed. “My Prince.”

Outside again, he paused by the little salvage team. “I’ve left instruction for your money to be paid once the items have been valued. Have you been given your share of the coinage yet?”

Carl nodded. “Yes, we got it just about an hour past.”

“Good good, I hope we can do business again, but for the moment I have to take my leave.” With that he turned and walked briskly off.


	The walk through town didn’t take long. Once away from the docks it quickly quietened down. Shops were closing for the night; people heading home, perhaps to a tavern. He took the direct route, straight up the main thoroughfare. By the time he reached the first guardhouse, at the wall that separated the inner city, from the sprawl that had grown up around it, the suns rays caught the castle, high and bright, with the city itself falling under shadow. He nodded to the guard, who saluted. No challenge here, every soldier in Kessellon knew the Amberstars. Through the older inner city he travelled, past the houses belonging to the rich, the landed. Most were inside, taking their evening meals. But here and there were guards, and citizens on their way to visit a friend, or to do late business. As much business was done in the evening, over a fine meal, than was done at any other time. Kessellon lived on trade. It breathed it. Corwyn was never as comfortable about it as his mother was, but it didn’t stop him studying every aspect of it. He had to, it was his duty. He stopped. The outer castle wall lay just ahead, with its towers. On he went past guards who snapped to attention as he passed, into the parade grounds and barracks. He passed through them barely paying attention, his mind on other things. On, into the gardens of the inner castle, where he suddenly stopped. Singing? He drifted in the direction of it, a young girl singing sadly. Was that… Teshia? It was. He could see her over by the pond, where she and Megan liked to feed the ornamental fish. She didn’t hear him, didn’t even know he was there till he knelt next to her as she lay on the grass, and put a hand on her shoulder. She sat up, stared at him for a second, and then threw herself into his arms.

“Oh, Cory…”

“Shh, shh, hush now…” He folded his arms around her gently, and she looked up, eyes brimming.

“It’s horrible, horrible. How could anyone do such a thing to her? You… you are going to find her, aren’t you? You are going to rescue her? Please?” She searched his face, and found him smiling, his eyes kind and full of love.

“You know I will, princess.”

“I want you to promise me something…”

“Ask.”

She looked down, away, as if ashamed. “If… if you find her and she’s… dead… promise me. Promise you’ll kill him. He deserves to die for what he did to her, to all those other poor people…”

He took a sharp breath; this was not like her. She was the gentlest and sweetest of souls, the most forgiving. She trembled slightly. A tear ran down his cheek; it was heartbreaking to see her like this, angry and vengeful. It was as if Arneviste had taken her innocence as surely as he’d taken Megan’s. He hugged her closer, taking another breath and sighing. “Ok. I promise, princess. I promise.” He rose and offered her his hands. “C’mon, it’s getting cold.” She looked at them. “For Cory?”

A smile, brief and weak, flickered across her face, and she took his hands, and stood. “For Cory…” she said quietly.

They walked over to the main doors in silence.


	Pahele stood watching out of the window. The city was so big. She could see the ocean, and the many, many little boats. They looked like toys from up here, she thought, like I could reach out and pluck one from the water. She felt so much better. At first, she’d half expected to be locked away in a cell, and guarded. But there were no guards, and the only lock on the door of her room was one she herself had the key to. It was very opulent here, and all the furnishings were beautiful. There were beautiful tapestries and paintings all over the castle, and she’d been allowed to roam it in complete freedom. Well, almost. Some areas were off limit, such as offices, and private rooms, but on the whole she was allowed anywhere. A young girl, who’d been introduced as Teshia, had shown her around the youngest daughter. Such a sweet and bubbly little thing, and so pretty. It was her who’d found a dress in her wardrobe for her to wear. It was a very daring backless dark-blue dress, almost black, and cut low in front. It would’ve swept the floor on Teshia, but came half way up Pahele’s calves. She hadn’t been about today, and Pahele guessed she’d been told what had happened to her niece and was off crying somewhere. She wandered back to where the adults were talking, sitting in a loose semi-circle around the fire on a collection of furs and throw rugs. There wasn’t a chair big enough for Kalisandra, so Lord Amberstar had decided that if one had to sit on the floor, they all would. It also made the atmosphere much less formal. She sat down by her father, who put an arm around her shoulders.

“This place is so nice, daddy.”

“Thank you Pahele,” Caitlin said with a smile, “I’m glad you like it.” She sat next to her husband, Dylan holding hands

“Pahele,” her father said, “we’re going to be staying here for a short while. Do you mind?”

“No, not at all. How long?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know yet. That depends on Lord Amberstar.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that.

“Don’t worry Pahele, you’re not a prisoner. It’s just that your father and I are going to be working out a trade agreement, that’s all.”

“Does that mean I could go into town tomorrow.”

“Of course. I’m sure Teshia would love to show you around.”

A door opened, and several servants entered, carrying trays and baskets with a variety of food and drink, placing them on a nearby table. As they left, Caitlin though she heard Corwyn’s voice echoing in the corridor outside.

“I think that’s Corwyn back at last.”

“So, does that mean we’ll be leaving soon?” Kalisandra asked. She sat slouched directly behind Branin, her outstretched legs framing his, and her hands on his knees, with his hands on hers.

“Tomorrow, most likely.”

The door opened and Corwyn walked in, his arm around his sister.

“There’s my Angel…” Dylan said.

Teshia ran over and hugged them both. “Mum, dad, Corwyn promised me he’d bring her home. He promised…” They both wrapped arms around her, talking quietly, soft words of comfort.

“Mum, Nicholai says he’ll be round tomorrow. Mmm, something smells good.” He walked over to the table eyeing up the freshly cooked food.

“People might want to grab some of that food now.” Dylan said, looking up. “If you don’t, the bottomless pit over there’ll eat the lot. I’d swear he’s got hollow legs.”

“Don’t worry, I told them to bring more.” He sniffed at a drumstick, popped it into his mouth and stripped it of the tender meat in one. Delicious and juicy.

“What’s that you’re eating?” Branin asked, peering at the basket of drumsticks.

“S’a chick’n drumstick…” Corwyn mumbled as he chewed. “S’good…”

“Chicken? Never tried chicken before, what’s it like?”

Corwyn swallowed. “Hmmm, it tastes like chicken. Difficult to describe. Why don’t you just try one?”

He picked it up, and squinted at it. “Er, just what part of a chicken is this?”

“It’s the leg, love.” Kalisandra picked up a leg of ham. “Ah, this’ll do to start with…”

Branin nibbled. Not bad, if a bit dry. He nudged Corwyn. “Heh, if you’ve got hollow legs, I’d like you to meet Miss Hollow Tail.

“Shuddup you, or you’ll sleep in a chair tonight.”

Valkos arrived. “Ah, roast beef. I adore roast beef.” Pahele, by his side, immediately turned her attentions to a tray of fine chocolate and sweets. “Pahele. Have some of the proper food first, before you eye the dessert.”

“Yes daddy…”

“You folk enjoy, I’ll be back in a second.” Corwyn went over to where his parents sat hugging Teshia. “What’s the story, mum?”

“You leave tomorrow, with the Brokenfangs. Lord Valkos and his daughter are going to stay here while I bash out a reasonable trade agreement. I’m going to be a little more generous in our prices than usual. It would really be worth the price to get our hands on some Dragon made weaponry.”

“Really? And what are your orders?”

“You’ll read those later. Be careful, Arneviste has Luna’s Tear, and that’s what you want in trade for his son.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’d love to get my hands on it properly, but chances are we couldn’t use it. I’m technically trading it for Valkos, and Valkos for a trade agreement.”

“Now I get it. Full details with my orders?”

“Yes.”

“Which ship am I to take? The Hammer?” The Hammer was Corwyn’s personal ship, though usually it was under another captain’s command. He was more usually stationed on land.

“No, you’re to meet a certain… freebooter. Her name is Brimstone. Thaily Brimstone. She’s… colourful. Her ship’s the ‘Avarice’, and it’s berthed in the western seafront. Jetty twenty seven.”

“Why?”

“To be inconspicuous, dunderhead. We can’t just sail an Imperial ship into Pellandrian waters, especially as I’m sure some Pellandrian spy will have reported Jean-Paul’s capture by now. We can’t give them time to possibly move Megan elsewhere to use as a hostage.”

“I see. Of course. I leave first thing?”

“No, just after noon, on the high tide. Don’t let on you know about the Tear.”

“Ok. Hey Teshia? Know what I saw over there?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Keshian chocolate.”

“Keshian chocolate?” She looked up, her eyes damp.

“Yup, mint creme. And I think the little Dragon girl’s got her eye on it. I think she’ll gobble it all up…”

She stood up, and sniffed. “S’not fair, I like mint creme too…”

“So let’s go get some, shall we?” He placed a hand on her shoulder and herded her towards the table. He winked back at Caitlin, who mouthed ‘bad’ at him, grinning.

“Shall we join them at our informal buffet, Dylan? Before they eat the lot?”

“Well, I was going to say we should leave the delicacies to the guests. Hook them in with a few choice pieces, but he did say Keshian mint crème, so lets just join in, hmm?”

She laughed and kissed his cheek. “Daftie, you’re as bad as Teshia with your sweet tooth.”

He rose, stretching. “Aww, look at that…”

She looked, seeing Corwyn standing with one arm draped protectively over Teshia’s shoulders, smiling down at her. She clung to him with one arm, and plucked at the chocolates with the other. “More than twenty years between them, and I don’t think I know a closer brother and sister.”

“I know. He’s doted on her from the moment she was born.” A tear glistened in her eye.

“She’ll be fine, Kate…” He slipped an arm round her waist, and kissed her softly. “Brave face, kitten. C’mon, lets join the others.”

She wiped the tear away, and smiled. Her marriage may have been arranged, but she’d grown to truly love him. At first, she’d been slightly disappointed to learn she was to marry a scholar, rather than another soldier. She wanted someone who she could travel with, fight side by side with, and not some weak little bookworm. A bookworm he was, and soft-spoken with it. And although he wasn’t much of a brawler, he turned out to be an excellent fencer. He didn’t have much of a head for business, but often could provide a little background on something that helped her when negotiating. Slowly, she came to love her ‘little bookworm’, and together they’d raised five wonderful children.

“Mu-um! Corwyn’s going to eat all the chicken if you don’t hu-rry!”

“Coming.” Caitlin sighed. That sounded cheerful. She was glad Corwyn had returned so promptly. If only Teshia hadn’t been walking nearby when she’d told Dylan what had happened. Now she was likely to fret until Corwyn came back from his trip. It was a three-week trip to Pellandria, and the same back. But there was no use worrying about that now. Together, she and Dylan joined the others. Corwyn had started telling another of his rambling stories. This could take hours.


	“Ho, up there, I’m looking for a Captain Brimstone. This the right ship?”

An enormous Polar Bear looked over the rail, “Right ship, but she ain’t ‘ere.”

“Can I speak to the First Mate then?”

“Sorry mate, ‘e’s not ‘ere eiver.”

Corwyn frowned. This was the agreed time. “Can you tell me where I might find them?”

The Bear threw up its hands. “Search me, mate. Try the nearest boozer.”

“So who’s in charge?”

“S’ppose I am, bein’ ‘elmsman. Name’s Ernie.”

“Fine.” Corwyn rubbed his eyes.  “Look we’ve hired this ship to go to Pellandria, can we at least come aboard to get our gear stowed away?”

“Sorry, can’t ‘elp ya. Ain’t nobody gets on board wivout eiver the Cap’n or First Mate’s say so. S’rules.”

“Oh for the love of…” Corwyn thought for a moment. “Ok. Amberstar, go check the Drunken Dolphin. Cartwright, the Burning Corsair. I’ll check the Lord’s Arms.”

“Sir!” “Yes sir!”

“Armstrong, Wintermoon, I want you two to start unloading the wagon.” He turned to the two Dragons. “I’m sorry about this, but I was under the impression we’d be leaving immediately. Looks like we might be a bit late.”

Kalisandra shrugged. “A few minutes won’t matter. I’m just relieved to be on the move.”

“Ditto.” Branin said. “By the way, which crate’s our armour in?”

“No idea, but I’m told the crates are all marked.”

“Good.” Kalisandra cracked her knuckles. “I feel naked without mine.”

“I know what you mean.” Corwyn chuckled. “Excuse me, I’ll be back shortly.” Turning, he walked off.

Branin watched the two guards, a Tiger and a Wolf, unloading the wagon. “Shall we give them a hand?”

“Nah. They’re paid to do that. Let them.”

“If we did you’d get your armour faster.”

She walked towards the wagon. “So what are we waiting for?”


	The place stank of stale beer, and old tobacco. Hostile eyes peered at him from the gloom. It was certain they thought him a member of the Guard. Chances were high that not one of these sea rats would know who he was. Corwyn carefully made his way through the tavern asking for Captain Brimstone. Few replies were forthcoming.

“What’s it worth?”

For a moment he was stunned. He wasn’t expecting any cooperation, even the paid kind. Of course, this ‘informant’ might be lying. He’d test her.

“Ten Crowns, if the info’s good. Sure you know?”

“Sure, I’m sure”

“Then tell me his first name, so I’m sure we have the right Brimstone.”

“Thaily, and it’s a woman.”

“Fair enough. Here. Now where do I find her?”

“She’s at the bar.”

“At. The. Bar. Thank you, well worth the money…” he said sarcastically.

He made his way to the bar, where several people stood. Only two were female, and since one was obviously one of the seafront whores, that left the other. He stepped up, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Captain Brimstone? I’m sorry but…”

She spun, shouting. “Who the fuck gave you permission to paw me, you stripey orange Hufter?” A knee shot up into his crotch, and he fell to his knees.

“Hah. Nice one missy.” She turned to see a drunken Dog leering at her.

She head butted him. “Who asked you?”

Seeing this exchange, the ‘informant’ tried to close, knocking a drink from some-ones hand. “Thaily!”

“Hey!”

From out of nowhere a flying bottle crashed into a Tiger’s head, and the whole place erupted in a drunken brawl. Fists flew, and Corwyn, nursing his aching balls, dragged himself over the bar, collapsing in a heap on the other side. A bottle smashed into those lined up behind the bar, showering him in cheap whiskey. As he blinked the stinging liquid out of his eyes, he could just make out the barman, a gnarly old Vole, coming at him with a pickaxe handle.

“Fuckin’ Guards never learn…”

As the handle went up, Corwyn kicked as hard as he could, catching the Vole on the left knee. There was an audible crack, and the old Vole screamed and fell, landing across Corwyn’s legs. He rolled him off, grabbed the makeshift cudgel, and struggled to his feet. The barroom was chaos, and he couldn’t see his quarry anywhere. A large Bear, eyes full of hate, came towards him, wielding a chair. Corwyn flipped the axe handle into his left hand, and drew his wheel lock. He shook his head slowly. The Bear froze, dropped the chair, and backed away, his hands coming up. He watched the fight carefully, keeping an eye on the door. If she left, so would he. Ah, wait, there she was. She’d been knocked flat by a Wolf, who had punched her in the back of the head. He was about to kick her when a strange figure stepped in between them. It was the ‘informant’ from earlier. Corwyn had no idea what it was. While it looked like a perfectly normal Skunk from the waist up, from there down was a different story. Beneath her greatcoat she had the four-legged body of a wild skunk, with her upper torso where it’s head and neck would have been. Whatever she was, she brought her left fist squarely up into the taller Wolf’s gut. There was a gasp, and the Wolf doubled over. Her right hand held a bottle, which she promptly smashed over the Wolf’s head. He fell like a sack of potatoes.

“GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU PUKE!” She looked forlornly at the ruined bottle. “That was still half full… BASTARD!” She swatted her opponent in the side with a forepaw

“Thaily, I’m hearing whistles. Bloody Guard’s coming. Up, girl, that’s it.” She helped her stand “Aw, CRAP!”

Corwyn grinned. Skunky had been dragging the stunned Brimstone towards the back door. Which was behind the bar. Also behind the bar, and thus in front of the back door was Corwyn, pistol in hand, with a pickaxe resting nonchalantly on his left shoulder

“Ladies. Let’s just wait for the watch shall we? Have a seat.” He gestured to a table close to the bar. They sat. There was a disturbance at the front of the tavern, and all three looked to see several uniformed men had come in, and were busy ‘subduing’ the tavern patrons with belaying pins. One of them noticed the group at the back.

“Sarge, there’s a Tiger at the back, armed with a pistol. Seems to have a couple of hostages.”

“Crap. Ok boys, let the trash go for now, I’m sure they’ve learned their lesson for a bit. Spread out a bit, but don’t get too close.” He started to edge forwards, hands held out to his sides, showing he was unarmed. Corwyn watched him carefully a tall, rather slender Weasel. “There’s no escape, you know, you might as well put down the gun and surrender.”

To his complete astonishment, the Tiger put the gun back in his belt, and put the axe handle down on the bar. “Of course I’ll lower my weapon now that the watch is here. I was merely defending myself and my two… associates from the rabble.”

He was suddenly suspicious. Nobody ever surrenders that quickly. Was it a trick? “And you are?” he motioned for his men to move in closer.

“Firstborn Amberstar, Sergeant.”

“Pull the other one, stripey, it’s got bells on…” chuckled one of the guards, a young Wolf.

Corwyn started to walk slowly out from behind the bar. Damn, my balls are killing me, he thought. The guards tensed. “And you, Sergeant? What’s your name?”

“Sergeant Oakford, sir…” He didn’t sound convinced. “Um, if you were defending them, why cover them with a pistol?”

“A misunderstanding, nothing more. She thought I was pawing her, and kneed me in the balls.” He held up his hand so they could see his signet ring, set with the seal of House Amberstar. Not only that, but marked to show he was not merely an Amberstar, bit the Firstborn.

One of the guards, an older Tiger, stepped up behind Oakford. “Beggin’ you pardon sir, but it is him. Niece of mine married one of the less important Amberstars, one free to marry fer love. Saw him there, and I know it’s him, now I see him clearly.”

“A thousand apologies Firstborn, it’s just I couldn’t image anyone like you in a low dive like this…”

“I’ve been in worse in my time Sergeant, though I’d rather you keep this matter… discrete?”

There was a chorus of hasty agreement, particularly from the young Wolf. “Thank you. You can clean this place up now, and thank you for dispersing the rabble so promptly.”

“Yes sir.”

Corwyn turned back to the pair seated at the table. “If you’ll follow me please?” He walked off, towards the door. Thaily looked at Taross, who shrugged.

“I guess that’s our fare.” She stood. “C’mon, I guess we should get goin’.”

Outside, they found him standing with his arms crossed. He didn’t look pleased. “I came here to fetch you back to your ship. We did have an agreement.”

“Did?” Thaily glared at him. “Fuck do you mean, did?”

“Well it’s now after the agreed time, and I find you in a pub, instead of on board.”

“So you’re saying you’re cancelling?” That had her worried; she’d been offered a lot of money to take a handful of passengers to Pellandria. She didn’t want to lose it.

“No, I’m saying that the size of bonus you receive depends on how quickly you can get us there and back, and that any time wasted is lost gold to you.”

“Bonus?” Her eyes lit up.

“Yes, I’m authorised to give you a bonus depending on the time saved. I expect a round trip of about forty-five days, but each day you save on that figure pays a bonus. I believe you’ve been offered ten thousand to transport us. Each day you save I’ll pay you an additional two.”

“Why the hurry?”

“Not something you need to know right now. All you need to know right now is that we need to be discrete, and we’re not exactly off to a good start.”

“That was your own damn fault for grabbing me, you dumb shoft. Hey, wait a minute, Firstborn? You’re Kate’s kid?”

Corwyn raised an eyebrow. “You know my mother?”

“Kind of… I do the odd… job for her now and then. Sailed with her twice when she couldn’t use any of her own fleet.”

“Hmm, I see… Well, as she’s used you before, and she trusts your discretion, then I’ll overlook the knee to the balls. Let’s try this again.” He cleared his throat, and held out a hand. “Good day, I’m Corwyn Amberstar. Pleased to meet you, Captain Brimstone.”

She stared at the hand, shrugged, and shook it briefly. “Likewise. That’s Taross, First Mate.”

“Afternoon.” Taross said.

Now that they were all outside, he was able to get a better look at her. Other than her strange build, she seemed to be a perfectly normal Skunk, the spotted kind rather than the striped. What he’d taken to be a vivid red scar over her left eye turned out to be dye. Whether it was an affectation, or something symbolic, he couldn’t tell. She wore an enormous, dark blue greatcoat, fashioned to fit her form. It appeared to be vented at the rear, not only to allow her tail through, but also to allow her to use the musk that ordinary Skunks shared with their wild counterparts. Over her shoulders she had slung a maul, a ferocious weapon if you had the strength and weight to wield it properly. He couldn’t judge how strong she was, but she certainly had the weight for it. A flicker of red caught his eye. On her left hand she wore an armoured glove, of a kind he’d seen only once before, on a bodyguard to a dignitary from the southern kingdom of Nijiku. If he remembered correctly, it was called a kote, and was used in a similar manner to a buckler, though it required more skill in its use, and no small amount of courage. The red flash that had caught his eye was a vivid red gem, cabochon cut, set into the back. Something puzzled him, though. He could smell her scent, lightly tinged with musk, and though he could scent Skunk, he couldn’t tell her sex. Not that that was hard, with the swell of her breasts visible even under the tightly buttoned coat. She followed his gaze.

“Getting a real good look, aren’t we, hmm?” The tone was light, and there was an amused twinkle in her eye.

“Pardon my rudeness, but I’ve never seen anyone quite like you before.”

Taross laughed. “I wouldn’t have thought so, I’m from a long way off, and mostly my kind don’t travel far. I’m a Taur.”

“Oh.” That didn’t help much, he’d never heard of a Taur before. He switched his attention back to Thaily. She was a Hybrid; that much was obvious. Her general build, and her face and markings, marked her as Fox, though she lacked the bushy tail, having instead a snaking Cat’s tail. The flare of long fur framing her face and ears, and the general colour made him think perhaps also Lion? Unusual combination. Not unattractive. She was dressed in black breeches, with shining knee high leather boots. Her shirt, buttoned right up the neck to a crimson scarf, was white, with flamboyant sleeves. Over this she wore a black corset, patterned with delicate silver embroidery. She carried a hunting knife on her right hip, a dagger in her left boot, and a sabre slung from her left hip. A fencer’s weapon. Briefly he wondered if she were any good. She stared back, ears twitching in annoyance, setting her golden earrings dancing in the sunlight.

“Well? Do we get going, or are you just gonna leer at me all day?”

He bowed, and gestured towards the docks. “After you, my lady.”

She walked briskly away, muttering to herself. Corwyn was just about to follow when Taross grabbed his arm. “Wait a minute.”

“What?”

“Never touch her without her say so. She doesn’t like it, and she’ll be going for your ‘nads again. You might have thought she over-reacted, or maybe she’s drunk, but she just doesn’t like it. Ok?”

“Ok. Bad experience?”

“Not for me to say, and not for you to ask. If she ever trusts you enough to tell you, she’ll tell you, but you won’t hear it from me. She’s my friend, and I want to keep it that way. Besides, she’s saved my life more than once, and I owe her.”

“I got it. Won’t say a word.”

Talos let go of his arm. “We’d better hurry, she’ll be in a hurry to leave now you’ve mentioned that bonus.” Without another word, she trotted off after Thaily.


	By the time Corwyn wandered back to where her ship was docked, Thaily was almost ready to leave. She’d expected a few passengers, but nobody’d mentioned two of them would be Dragons. She shook her head; half the dock would be talking about them by now. Discrete? Seven passengers. Three Tigers, two Wolves and two Dragons. That woman was just enormous; she’d never seen anyone so big. The little black Dragon was kind of cute, but it was obvious the pair were a couple, despite the size difference.

Corwyn came up the gangplank, and Thaily rounded on him. “You damn debiel! How the fuck’s this meant to be ‘discrete’? I mean she’s ten bloody foot tall.”

He winced. She did have a point there. “Ok, you’re right. To be honest we can’t have an imperial ship make the approach, because we’ll be expected.”

“Right, you’d damn well better tell me what’s going on, or you can get off my ship.”

“I’d rather wait till we has set sail.”

She jabbed a finger in his chest. “I won’t even hoist the fucking anchor unless I know what you’re up to. Now talk.”

Corwyn looked around. Half the crew, and all his companions were staring at them. “Ok, but privately.”

“Fine! In here.”

She opened a door, and he stepped in. Looked like her cabin. A large map, covering both the Empire, and Pellandria, covered one wall. He didn’t have much of a chance to notice anything further, because all of a sudden she was in his face again. “Talk, damn you, what’s Kate up to?”

“Ok, ok.” Corwyn sighed. “It’s pretty much a rescue mission. You’re to take us to the port of Vellardieu. There we would disembark and travel to a nearby estate. Hopefully we would take no more than a couple of days to retrieve a prisoner, and then we’d come back here.”

“Vellardieu… that’s Arneviste’s stomping grounds…” Her eyes widened. “You’re after the Grey Death, aren’t you? This has something to do with the raids on your fleet. Man, I’ve been hoping to cross swords with that preening fop. Is there a bounty on him? What’s he worth?”

“One, he’s caught.” His eyes narrowed. “And two, precisely what do you know about that?”

“Hey, I’m Captain Brimstone, I know these waters and I hang with the right crowd, if you get my meaning. He’s been offloading stuff with quite a few dodgy merchants. So who’s the prisoner?”

“My thirteen year old niece, captured during his last raid.”

“Oh. I’m… sorry.” She shivered; Jean-Paul Arneviste had a bad reputation. “So why this? Why not take one of your own ships?”

“Because we’re trying to keep it hushed up. Arneviste almost certainly knows what’s happened, and if we sail under our own colours he can more easily prepare for our arrival. This way we can come in unofficially, hopefully without him being able to move her, or use her as a hostage. And we want to avoid a costly war. We make this public, and we risk ambitious or greedy nobles use the whole sorry mess as ammunition to further their own agendas. Not much glory or valour in peacetime, after all.”

“So I’m smuggling you into Pellandria, hmm? Ok, pay’s good, and the job’s simple. I’ll do it. Let’s get a few things straight first. One, there are no idle hands on the Avarice, you all pitch in and do your fair share. Two, you all sleep below decks with the crew. Three, there’s only one captain on this ship, and that’s me. Got it?”

“Agreed.”

“Good.” She flung open the door and walked out onto the deck. “Ok everybody, listen up. The big man here has a forty-five day round trip for us. For every day we shave off of that, everybody gets a bonus of fifty crowns. Hoist anchor, we’re sailing as of yesterday.”


	The first few days were smooth enough. Good winds and open sea meant a good pace. No, the problem would be navigating the reefs once they entered the sprawling island chain. Corwyn stared out into the darkness, unable to sleep. Nothing could be seen beside the flicker of light when the waves caught the light of Luna. A flash of light, far to the east, caught his eye. He watched. After a minute or so it came again. Storm coming, he thought. Looking up, he could see the young Lynx in the crow’s nest was watching the storm too. After a little while, he clambered down, and started knocking on the door to the captain’s cabin. Thaily opened the door moments later, wrapped in a satin sheet.

“What?”

“Storm coming, Captain.”

She came over to the rail, peering out into the darkness. “How long till it hits, d’you reckon?”

“Within the hour, Captain.”

“Fine.” She yawned. “Wake the crew, it might get a bit rough, so we’d better have all hands on deck. Hey stripey, done enough sailing to know what you’re doing?”

“I have a ship of my own, Captain, I’m quite sure I can manage. Perhaps you should dress, while I help with the sails?”

She glared. “And the others?”

“I’ll get my men, but I’m thinking that high, gusting winds, an unsteady deck, and bloody great wings, isn’t a good combination.”

“Fair enough, just make sure they don’t get in anyone’s way then.” So saying, she walked back into her cabin, and slammed the door. Corwyn grinned, and went below, to join the others.

Branin looked up as Corwyn joined them. “I heard them calling for all hands. Something the matter?”

“Men, we’re needed up top. There’s bad weather on the way, and might need us to help out. I’m afraid you two can’t join us. We don’t want to risk either of you being blown overboard by a sudden gust of wind.

Kalisandra smiled. “Suits me fine. I’ll just have to stay down here where it’s warm and dry.”

“Such a hardship.” Branin chuckled.

Corwyn bowed, and left, followed by his guards. Around the hold, sailors stirred, making their way topside. A few stayed to secure loose items left lying around, and to make sure what little cargo they had was firmly tied. Shortly, they found themselves alone. Branin shuffled up against her, and softly stroked her thigh.

‘Someone could walk in, you know.’ Kalisandra said.

He grinned. ‘And that would be a problem why?’

‘You’re utterly shameless, aren’t you?’

‘We’re Dragons, what do we have to be ashamed of?’ He rose to his knees and kissed her. ‘Besides, this might be the only privacy we get for days. Weeks even.’

‘Weeks? Well in that case…’ She looked about, and seeing several tarpaulins, took one. ‘I suppose this’ll do. Least this way they won’t see anything…’ She lay back, pulling it over them. Branin winked, and vanished from sight. Kalisandra sighed. She hoped the storm lasted a good long time.


	Dawn broke, and Thaily watched with a tired curiosity. ‘Stripey’ was leading two of his guards, a Tiger and a Wolf, in a prayer to Sol. Just as big a God-botherer as Kate had been. He was older than she expected too. From the way Kate had talked, she’d thought him in his twenties, but he looked to be well into his thirties. He patted the other Tiger on the shoulder, who seemed to be on first name terms with him. Probably related, she thought. Oh damn, what’s he after now?

Corwyn wandered over to where she sat. “Captain.”

“Firstborn.”

“I’m wondering how long a delay we can expect whilst you check out the ship, and repair any storm damage.”

“Couple of hours maybe. Nothing serious anyway; we’ve weathered worse.”

“That soon? That’s excellent, thank you. And sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“For grabbing you back in Kessellon. Taross told me you’re not a touchy-feely person, particularly round strangers, though she didn’t say why, and I’m not going to ask. I apologise for offending you.”

‘Yeah, well… I suppose I shouldn’t have kneed you in the balls…”

He smiled. “Already forgiven, Captain.” He turned to go, then paused. “You look shattered. Perhaps you should rest?”

“Once we’re under way again, then I can rest.”

“Then I’ll bid you good morning. Sleep well, Captain” He walked off, leaving her with her thoughts. He certainly seemed genuine enough, but that didn’t mean anything. Nor that it mattered, she wasn’t about to let him get a piece of Thaily’s tail, that’s for sure. She chuckled. Thaily’s tail, that’s funny. She stood and yawned, stretching and twisting. Let’s see how much longer this’ll take, she thought. I’m too damn tired to last much longer.


	Days passed. They reached the Pellandrian island chain without further incident, and found themselves ahead of schedule. Around two thirds of the way there, and two days gained. Thaily had estimated she could save five, maybe six days overall. That would double the payment. She began to relax, even though she was still suspicious of ‘stripey’, she began to enjoy the trip.

Over near the main mast she could see Taross and Corwyn talking quietly. It seemed friendly enough. She moved a little closer, wondering what they were talking about.

“…get this straight. You’re saying your family isn’t all Skunk type Taurs?”

“Exactly. My dad was a normal Skunk, and my mom was a Skunktaur, though she was the black striped type, and not spotted like me and dad.”

“So you’re, what, a stable Skunk Hybrid? Something like a Liger?”

“Nope. Fact is we don’t know. Taurs can pretty much interbreed with any Kin. My mom’s older sis hooked up with a Bear, and they have two kids. One’s a Skunktaur like me, and the other’s a Beartaur, with a lovely bushy tail.”

He thought for a moment. Beartaur with a bushy tail? “So the end result is always a Taur?”

“Yup. If you and me were to hook up, it might be a Skunktaur, or a Tigertaur, or a mix of the two. Heh, you should see what happens when one of us marries a Hybrid.”

He chuckled. “Ok, now you’re starting to scare me…” He caught a scent, and turned. “Care to join us, Captain?”

Thaily nodded, stepping over. She was still suspicious of him. Nobles, particularly the more important ones, regarded Hybrids like her with contempt. She’d dealt with some before, and they’d all looked at her as if she were beneath them. No, not all. Caitlin, though distant at first, had been polite, even friendly on their last trip. But the others, without fail, looked down on her. And for one to talk to Taross? It hadn’t happened before, yet here he was, chatting away without a care.

“How is it I’ve never heard of your kind before?”

Taross raised her hands and shrugged. “Probably because we live a long way off, and there aren’t many of us. Yet.”

 “Ah, distance and rarity, I see. So what made you…” Corwyn paused. He thought he saw something, a glint of light perhaps. “If you would both excuse me a moment?”

He moved to the starboard side, and closed his eyes. After a short time he opened them, hands up to shield them from the Avarice’s lanterns. Away from the light, his pupils dilated, and his night vision grew more sensitive. He stared. There. A slightly larger ship, sailing with no lanterns lit, starboard of them and quite a distance back. Wait. No, not following, pursuing. An ambush? He walked back over.

“There’s a ship behind us, coming up steadily.”

“What?” She ran to the side, peering into the night. “I can’t see a fucking thing. Where?”

“Just short of five o’clock, running dark.”

After a few moments, as her vision adapted, she could see something, a greater dark against the dark of the night, but couldn’t make it out. “I can’t tell what it is.”

“You might want to go ask the crow’s nest what he’s playing at. Quietly.”

She gave him a withering stare, sighed, and clambered up the rigging. At the top, up the short ladder to the nest, she was horrified to find the young Lynx had nodded off. A backhanded slap woke him sharply. “I’m sorry, Captain, I’m sorry, please forgive me…”

“Shut up, what’s the point of having a lookout who can see in the dark, if the little shit’s asleep? I’ve a good mind to put you off at the next port.”

“Please, it won’t happen again, I promise.” He looked miserable, and her anger faded slightly. These people weren’t simply her crew; they were her friends, her family.

“Alright, Nathaniel, but if it does happen again, I’ll have to let you go, ok?” He nodded. “Ok. Now look behind us, five o’clock. Tell me what you see.”

Nathaniel looked. After a few moments he could make up a ship. “Oh crap! There’s a ship behind us…” He watched it for a short while. “I’d say half again as big… it’s picking up pace, too.”

“How long till it’s in cannon range?” Thaily was worried. Her own ship wasn’t exactly small, so the pursuer must be at least a full warship.

“Twenty minutes, I think.”

“Ok. Keep an eye on it, and look for reinforcements. Let me know if anything changes.” She hurried down.

Taross stood peering into the dark. There was no sign of Corwyn. “What’s up, Thaily?”

“Warship. Probably running an ambush. Get in close, fire a volley of cannonballs into our arse, then probably board us in the confusion.”

“And the plan?”

“Run, we’re damn fast if we want to be.”

“They see us readying to run, and they’ll charge anyway. It’ll take time for us to make full sail. They’re almost certain to have all hands already on deck.”

“So, what… fight?”

“Yes.” Corwyn’s voice startled her.

He stepped onto the deck, heavily armoured. His guards, who were hastily strapping on their own armour, followed him. “Wait until they’re almost in range, then swing round, and carry the fight to them. We board them, and unleash our secret weapon.”

“Weapon? What weapon?”

Kalisandra emerged, dragging a huge trunk. She flipped it open, and started to don the armour inside. Corwyn grinned. “Us.”


	Thaily stared. She’d thought the sweet spoken Dragon scary enough to begin with, but now, fully armoured and armed, she was frankly terrifying. Clad head to toe in heavy plate armour, and with a sword so big as to boggle the mind, Thaily couldn’t imagine any foe facing Kalisandra had a hope of survival. The armour itself was heavily spiked and bladed. Even the wing bones were armoured. At first, Thaily had thought the gold bands piercing the wing membranes were just for show, much like her earrings. But they also served to keep open small cuts in the membrane that had been made specifically for her to feed the straps of her armour through. All the major bones were armoured, and those along the edge of the wing had blades attached, making a wing strike potentially lethal. She looked unstoppable, and eager for a fight. By contrast, her husband was very lightly armoured, in black leather, and seemed completely calm. It seemed he preferred speed to brute force.

“They do seem to be an oddly matched pair, don’t they?” Corwyn said quietly.

“There are odder matches. Taross’ parents… mine…”

“I guess… Fox and Lion, yes?” She nodded.

“Are they…. They’re starting. Now, Thaily.”

“HARD TO PORT! NOW! ALL HANDS ON DECK, ARCHERS TO THE READY!”

Ropes creaked and timbers groaned, as the crew burst into action, and the Avarice swung round, away from the other ship. Lights sprung up on the dark ship, as hooded lanterns were uncovered, and Thaily could see figures rushing to turn their ship to pursue. Shame we’re not running, isn’t it?


	“Sir, they’re turning away.”

“WHAT? AFTER THEM.” Damn, he couldn’t let her get away; nobody escapes Black Patrick. The black Wolf stared after the smaller ship, eyes blazing with hatred. When word had reached him she’d been spotted heading for Kessellon, he thought he’d finally be able to exact his revenge. It was just over two years since they’d met, back in the ‘safe’ port of Ravensmouth, and the sting of humiliation was as sharp now as it was then. It had been at a meeting of a few ‘allied’ captains, when he’d been introduced to Captain Brimstone, the new captain of the Falcon, now renamed as the Avarice. After the meeting he’d tried to… persuade her to come back to his ship, not knowing she had a bodyguard waiting nearby. From the shadows some… freak had emerged. From the waist up she was a Skunk, but from the waist down she had the body of a beast, four legged like a wild skunk, only vastly larger. Before he could act, she’d smashed an enormous maul into his side, breaking two ribs, and leaving him stunned. Then they had given him a savage beating, hog-tied him, and left him hanging upside down from a lamp, gagged by her red scarf. He still had the note they’d pinned to his chest. It read ‘If Thaily doesn’t want to go to your ‘party’, Thaily isn’t going. Tough.’ And as if that weren’t enough, her Skunk freak sprayed him with her vile musk. He’d had to burn the clothes, but it was weeks before he could rid his fur of the smell. She humiliated him before the whole town. Even now people still talked about it. Still laughed behind his back. He’d show her. He would take her and break her. And before she died he’d make her watch as he killed her freak friend, and had her pelt made into a coat. Yes. He smiled. Yes.

“COME ON, LOOK LIVELY YOU SCUM. FULL SAIL, FULL SAIL. I’M NOT LETTING THEM ESCAPE.”

“Captain! They’re still turning. I think she’s turning to attack.” Patrick looked up to see the night watchman waving.

Was she mad? The Tempest’s Fist was a warship, not a frigate like the Avarice. He had a crew twice the size of hers. What could she be thinking? He grinned. Perhaps she knows it’s me and knows she can’t outrun me? A desperate fight, eh? He was shaken from his thoughts by a couple of sharp thumps. He was momentarily confused, then a few more sharp noises, and a nearby deck hand screamed and fell, an arrow stuck in his thigh. Then he saw several others scattered across the desk. He ducked behind the mast. Damn, she didn’t have any bowmen the last he’d heard. Passengers? Or was this an ambush? It was no secret, this desire for revenge he had. Had she decided to trick him? No matter. At this distance any hit would just be down to luck, and as they closed he’d close the lanterns so they’d be shooting blind anyway. Maybe they’d get a few of the men, but he’d still overwhelm her. Still, this way he’d get his hands on her ship as well as her ass. Yes, this is much better.

“ALL HANDS ON DECK, BUT KEEP YOUR HEADS DOWN, THEY HAVE ARCHERS.” He watched them for a moment, and then stepped into his cabin. Checking in the mirror, he spotted a small patch of grey he’d missed, on the left cheek. He poured a little dye onto a cloth, dabbing at the offending spot. Much better. Black Patrick would remain Black Patrick. Grey Patrick just wouldn’t do. He had to look his best for her. Ah, he’d remember this night for the rest of his life. And so would she.


	“Save the rest of your arrows until we close to board.”

“Sir!” “Yessir!”

Initially, there had been quite a bit of cannon fire, with the Avarice’s four guns pitched against the eight aboard the Tempest’s Fist. But a combination of skilful steering, and a choppy sea meant the damage to either ship was slight. It quickly became clear that all they were doing was wasting good gunpowder. And so Thaily had ordered the Avarice to close for boarding.

“Captain!” Thaily looked up at the sound of Nathaniel’s voice. “Captain, it’s the Tempest’s Fist! It’s Black Patrick!”

“Crap! You sure?”

“Yes. He’s just hoisted his colours.”

“Black Patrick… I know that name.” Corwyn said “Any idea why he’d be after us?”

“He’s not after us. He’s after me.”

“Someone else you kneed in the balls?”

“Actually, Taross and I beat the living crap out of him for trying to force his attentions on me. Then we hung him half-naked from a lamp and Taross sprayed him with musk.” She grinned. “I heard it took weeks to get rid of the smell. He lost a lot of face, and he’s kept himself a low profile for a bit.”

“Looks like he’s decided to up it at just the perfect time, then.”

“Got a high opinion of yourself, haven’t you?”

“Got a high opinion of her.” He jerked a thumb over at the doorway where Kalisandra was lurking. “D’you honestly think he’s got anything even remotely as dangerous?”

Thaily shook her head. “A couple of Bears, maybe, and I hear he has a Rhino. But nothing to match her.”

“Cool. I’d advise your men to keep back to start with. When she starts swing that sword about I wouldn’t like to be anywhere near her.”

“True enough. Taross? Could you pass that ‘round, please? Thanks.”

“Sure.” Taross stood, hefted her maul, and moved off. Thaily drew her sabre.

“Planning on using that, Captain?”

She frowned. “No, I’m planning on opening a letter. Course I’m going to use it. Thaily Brimstone doesn’t lead from the back.”

“Well said, Captain.” He drew his sword, and saluted her. “Shall we ready?”

“Idioot…” Thaily shook her head, but was smiling.

“Oh, one last thing…”

“Yes?”

“If we confirm it is Black Patrick, the bounty on him is yours. I think it’s currently eight thousand crowns.” He turned away and took up position. Eight thousand crowns! Her eyes twinkled. You know, she thought to herself, maybe I could get to like this guy.



Characters and situations are Copyright Graham William Robertson. 
31st August 2004-08-31
The characters of Thaily Brimstone and Taross belong to the Dutchfurs
Thaily Brimstone and Taross, and appear with their permission

Note, this is actually only the first half of chapter one. At around 14,000 words, I felt I should break it in half so as to be a slightly less arduous task to read it.