Spelljammer story, chunk 6

(2052 words)

I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity, and nodded to her. "Sorry. I'll take it off. Turn around. And remember, I can still gut you if you start whistling." She nodded sharply, and turned her head, lifting her long hair forward over one shoulder, giving me clear access to the clasp of the choker. I reached across the table, and gave the opening command: three quick taps, followed by a fourth a second later. At the same time, though, I was carefully grasping the hilt of my cutlass. Not only as a defense, but also as the other part of the opening charm. The captain was a clever artificer. The wearer of one of these collars simply couldn't take it off themselves. If they tried, they got a jolt of agony down every nerve that got worse the longer they tried. I had been on the receiving end of just one of those jolts, once, and I never wanted to repeat the experience. But even if the wearer got someone else to take it off, the tapping alone was not sufficient. The opener also had to be touching a piece of quartz. Conveniently, I had just such a stone decorating the hilt of my sword. If I hadn't, both her and I would have been subject to one of those jolts. Not a pleasant concept.

The choker's clasp opened on its own once I had given the appropriate code, and the silencing bond slipped off. I caught it, and laid it on the table, a not-so-subtle threat that she didn't have to be able to talk. The Songmaster eyed the choker, and rubbed her neck where it had chaffed a bit. "Now," I continued. "I was asking your name." She scowled again, and looked like she was considering not telling me anyway, despite the lack of restraint, but then visibly slumped and decided to give in. "Third Chorus Songmaster Haelle Riinal, of the man-o-war Purple Emperor"

I nodded enouragingly. "Now we're getting somewhere. So, Songmaster Riinal. Tell me about the Purple Emperor. Any important details about the complement? Is there any reason they're going to be chasing us down? Or will they just leave you to us while they deal with the orcs?"

She looked up at me, but didn't quite meet my eye. "No reason to follow us. You're safe." I sighed inwardly, then said out loud "I think you're lying to me. Allow me to remind you - we spotted your ship a long way off, even disguised. We can do it again. And if we do spot them, believe me, you and your favorite third officer will be over the side very quickly. Then they can collect you from wildspace."

She snarled at me. "You wouldn't dare! If the Navy was hunting you for us, they'd let you go if you handed us over. If we were killed, they'd hound you to the edge of the Great Void, and not stop until every man aboard this wretched ship was dead!"

I shook my head. "No chance, Songmaster. I know elves. If you're important enough to chase after, you're important enough to make our survival unlikely after we give you up. If the elves let it be spread about that they let someone big get grabbed, they'd lose a lot of respect, and the Navy can't take that. As you know. So, once again, this time with some truth. Are you important enough to chase?"

Haelle looked me in the eye for a second. Her gaze broke first. She hung her head, and said quietly "The third officer is Troven Liirae. He's the second son of Aatro Liirae." I sighed, out loud this time. That was bad news. Aatro Liirae was the head of the Liirae clan, and a colder merchant prince never walked on a deck. He would sell anyone if the price was right, but, like all elves, he put a very high price on his children. Elves didn't have many, and valued the ones they had more than most planets could pay. He must have put his son into the Navy to make some political hay, but probably arranged for a sinecure - a nice, easy garrison duty. And then Troven and us had fouled it up, Troven by getting captured, and us by capturing him. The captain of the Purple Emperor would move the stars and every world around them to recover him, and I doubted there was far enough we could run. And it would get worse if we killed him. All the considerable resources of one of the great merchant houses would be devoted to tracking us down.

I eyed Songmaster Haelle again, and she nodded, now looking bitterly amused at my obvious dismay. "You might as well surrender now," she suggested. "If you throw yourself on the mercy of the captain, he might be lenient. I hear the firesap mines on Ragnos are looking for more people." I glared at her, and quickly shot back. "Don't be too confident, elf. Remember, we left your precious Purple Emperor with a crippled wing, in a fight with a raven ship. Odds are, your precious captain won't even make it out of that alive, let alone have a chance to come find us. We lay low for a while, then take off, give the four of you deadweights some memory charms, and we get off scott free. Odds are, the Navy won't even realize that you were captured, rather than just blasted out of space with the rest of your crew. Heck, we might not even bother with the memory charms. Much easier to just space you once we're sure the Emperor is flinders and sawdust. No complications there."

I had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen in fear. She knew very well that what I said was correct. The best course of action for the Jewel was to space her and the rest, once we knew pursuit was not in the offing. Memory charms were not always reliable, and the simple fact of their return would provoke suspicion. Luckily for her, the captain and I would not be doing it. I had see too many people die that way, from my early days, to ever be comfortable doing it to someone, no matter how bad an enemy. And Captain Blake had reasons of his own. So Haelle was safe. Not that I intended to let her know. She could sweat.

"Well, we won't drop you just yet. We've got a few weeks to wait, after all. Don't worry. I'm sure you'll love our new accomodations. I know how much elves like mud, and really terrible fish. I hope you thought to bring a raincoat along on that flitter, though. It may be damp." She wrinkled her nose in disgust at my description. "Don't tell me. Your bolthole is Verpax." I smiled and nodded, and felt a delicious feeling of schadenfreude as that pinched line appeared between her eyes again. "Oh, I see you've heard of our little vacation spot. Well, don't worry. You'll have a very good chance to get to know it and love it." I stood, and gestured her up as well. "That's all I need right now. Time to go back to your room, Songmaster. Thank you for being so cooperative." She glowered at me, but stood and turned for the door. I held up a hand. "First, your little accessory. Can't be forgetting that." Haelle sighed, but didn't protest. She shifted her hair to the side again, and I picked up the choker again, deftly slipping it in place and clipping it closed. It needed no special signal to put on, and the silence immediately took effect. Even her breathing was quieted.

I gestured ahead of me, and she marched out. I lead her back to the other stateroom, and Rolf unlocked the door and waved her inside. She returned to her chair in the corner, took a seat, and faced us again. I smiled and waved, and she shot me an obscene hand gesture. I chuckled, and motioned to Rolf to shut the door again. "Didn't think nice elves knew signs like that," I commented, as he turned the key in the lock. He grunted, but didn't offer a reply. I turned to leave, and was walking up the gangway, when he suddenly spoke up. "Rafael." I looked over my shoulder to see what he wanted. "Don't fall for her. Nothing but trouble." I grumbled back "I don'f fall in love with everything with a pretty face, Rolf." His only reply was an eloquently raised eyebrow. I snorted, and turned back on my original course, mumbling to myself. I don't fall for everything. Just because of that one in Starfall. Well, and the widow in Skallport. Oh, alright, and those damned twins on the Rock, with the red hair... Oh, and that gypsy halfling, in Warspace. But not everything, dammit!

The next few hours were a slowly freezing hell. Everyone wrapped up as warmly as possible, but the cold was everywhere. By the fourth hour on our new heading, our breath was frosting in the air, and exposed flesh chilled quickly. By the sixth hour, the crew was dressed in every scrap of clothing they could find, desperate to shut out the cold Every minute was a step in our descent into a freezing hell. The open deck was avoided at all costs. Everyone who could, was gathered around our limited sources of heat. Oil lanterns, candles, the cookstove - all were pressed into service as much as possible. We covered ever entry into the ship we could with sailcloth. We had lashed the wheel and set the sails, and the only ones who ventured out were sent to check that nothing had gone wrong in our absence. Everyone else huddled closely together, and did their best to stay warm. At first, there was the chatter, songs and stories that usually filled the idle hours of sailors. By the tenth hour of our freezing voyage, though, silence reigned through the ship. The crew was devoting all their energy simply to keeping warm, shivering around our small heat sources. Slowly, the cold encroached on the lit areas of the ship, and our groups gathered ever tighter together. The silence was filled with the groans and cracks of timbers that had rarely been cooler than a cold ocean now straining to handle the fierce temperature.

At the start of our chilly voyage, I had patrolled the ship, keeping warm with activity. I went from group to group, trying to encourage everyone, reminding them that the captain had never yet been wrong when it came to this sort of gamble. I sang a few songs, had a drink or two with some of the larger groups, checked to make sure that the fuel was being rationed appropriately. At one point, I took a peek on deck, just to see how things were going. As I moved the sailcloth covering the hatchway, the bite of icy air almost stole my breath. I looked outside, but I couldn't stay long. My eyes felt like they were trying to freeze in my skull, and my lungs like I was trying to breathe icy fire. Seeing all in order, I quickly shut the door again, and returned to my patrol. Eventually, when it became too cold to move about, I ended up with Rolf and a few of the other halflings in the crew, outside the prisoner's stateroom. The prisoners had been given an oil lantern, enough oil for the time we expected, and several heavy furs. I had seen Haelle look disgusted by the furs - they were old, and they came from Andrast yaks, not the most pleasant-smelling beasts in the best of times. But she still took full advantage of their warmth once the cold began to bite, and I couldn't fault her practicality. Troven had still not woken up, and I wondered briefly if the cold would save us the trouble of deciding what to do with him. But the rest of his party had him well bundled up, as close to the lantern as was safe. He's probably survive, I decided, and left to join Rolf and the others.