Richard Baker - Corsair

“No, I expect it is not enough, Kara. But I hope that two warships are sufficient to serve as a deterrent,” Grigor said. He looked around at the assembled council members. “I hope you all understand that the Tower must find funds for this somewhere. To begin with, I expect that rents must be raised on mining and logging concessions.”

“Proceed with care, my lord harmach,” Marstel warned. “It doesn’t matter to the Houses of the Merchant Council if they’re ruined by piracy or taxation. Ruin is ruin.”

“You demand the harmach’s protection for your shipping, but you balk at paying for the forces necessary to safeguard you?” Kara snapped. “You can’t have it both ways, Lord Marstel. Where else should the harmach obtain the funds to pay for a fleet, if not from the merchant costers that will profit by the protection a fleet offers?”

Rhovann opened his mouth to counter the Shieldsworn captain’s point, but Geran Hulmaster shook his head and turned to address his uncle. “Perhaps there is an alternative to a standing navy,” the swordmage said. “Instead of building enough warships to defend our sea trade from every possible pirate attack, we should search out the pirates’ lair and destroy them there. A single expedition of one or two ships might do as much to protect our trade in a month as a fleet of four or five ships could in years of patrols.”

“Yes, Lord Geran, but where would you start?” Deren Ilkur asked.

The swordmage shrugged. “Kraken Queen . The Moonsea isn’t that large. She can’t hide for long against a determined search. As for other pirates, we should invest in information. Spread some gold around in ports like Mulmaster or Melvaunt, hire some harbor-watchers, and we’ll know soon enough where our enemies are hiding.”

“We’ll need a ship and crew,” Kara said.

“The Merchant Council’s cargoes are at stake; they can spare some armsmen. And you can spare a few Shieldsworn, Kara. For the rest, I’d wager that we can find plenty of volunteers from the Moonshields.” Geran smiled. “As for the ship, well, House Veruna left Seadrake behind when they chose to relocate their operations to Mulmaster. She’s in need of repairs, but she could be ready to sail within a tenday.”

“You’re willing to command her, Geran?” Harmach Grigor asked.

Geran thought for a moment. “Yes, provided I get the funds I need to repair and crew the ship. I can’t promise that I’ll stop all the attacks, but if we catch a pirate or two, the rest might turn to easier prey.”

The harmach glanced over to Marstel. “Lord Marstel, does the Merchant Council find Geran’s proposal acceptable?”

Rhovann directed the old lord to strike an attitude of thoughtful deliberation while he quickly considered the question. Geran had stumbled upon a course of action that seemed reasonable and certainly did not require the harmach to beg help from another city or levy ruinous taxes against his merchants or his people. That was irksome … but, if Geran’s search proved fruitless, he would be disgraced, and the harmach could be attacked for failing to take effective action. It might be highly useful to allow Geran to chase his own tail around the Moonsea for the next few tendays. In fact, Rhovann could see to it that rumors were deliberately planted in out-of-the-way places just for the purpose of wasting Geran’s time. And he knew something about the pirates threatening Hulburg that Geran did not know. Once he considered the suggestion, it seemed that Geran had unwittingly proposed a scheme that Rhovann would have been hard-pressed to improve upon.

Realizing that Maroth Marstel had been thinking things over just a little too long, Rhovann directed the old lord to reply. “One ship is hardly a fleet, my lord harmach. But we will withhold judgment on the merits of the plan until Geran puts an end to Kraken Queen or we lose another ship to the depredations of those murderous sea wolves.”

Geran frowned, weighing the deadline Marstel had imposed on him. After all, he had no way of knowing how long he had before pirates took another Hulburgan ship. “I’ll do my best, Lord Marstel,” he said.

Deren Ilkur looked around at the assembled councilors. “Is there any other business before the council?” he asked. No one spoke up; the Keeper of Duties took his gavel and rapped it sharply on the table. “Then the Council is adjourned.”

Once again, everyone stood as Harmach Grigor rose and made his way up the stairs leading from the hall. Then half-a-dozen low conversations started as the councilors and their various advisors and assistants began filing from the hall. Rhovann watched Geran stride purposefully to the door, already speaking with Kara Hulmaster. Would it be better to help him along his way or delay him? the elf wondered. Through the Merchant Council and Maroth Marstel, he could speed his enemy’s efforts to outfit his expedition and get him out of Hulburg quickly … or he could throw obstacles in Geran’s path, keeping him mired in the effort to gather armsmen and supplies for a month or more.

If Geran sailed off with a strong detachment of Shieldsworn and Hulburgan loyalists, the harmach’s hand would be sorely weakened. That suggested several possibilities. “The sooner the better, then,” Rhovann murmured to himself.

“Eh? What did you say?” Marstel asked.

“Nothing of import, my lord,” he replied. “I think House Marstel should generously support Geran Hulmaster’s efforts to fit out his expedition. There is not a moment to lose, after all.”

Marstel nodded. “Of course! The pirates must be dealt with firmly and immediately. Delay is intolerable.”

“Just so, my lord.” Rhovann gave Geran one more long look, wondering what the fool would do if he suspected that his old rival from Myth Drannor was standing only twenty feet away, planning the success or failure of his ill-conceived venture. Then he took Marstel by the elbow and guided the Hulburgan noble to his carriage.

16 Eleint, the Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)

Two days after the meeting of the Harmach’s Council, Geran spent the morning on the quarterdeck of Seadrake , watching as a crew of carpenters worked to replace the ship’s mainmast. The old mast had been badly cracked in a spring gale months ago, which was one reason why House Veruna’s sellswords had left Seadrake behind when they sailed away from Hulburg. She’d been stripped of stores, canvas, rigging, and other such things, of course, but that could be remedied easily enough. Replacing a mainmast, on the other hand, was a tedious piece of work. Over the last two days the Hulburgan woodworkers had cut away the cracked mast and built a temporary hoist to raise the new mast-a tall, straight spruce cut in the Galena foothills and seasoned for several years in a pond owned by House Marstel. Several dozen workers sweated and swore at each other as they manhandled the long, creaking lines, carefully lowering the new mast into the socket of the old one.

The clatter of wheels on the cobblestones of the street drew Geran’s attention. He glanced down as an open carriage halted by the gangway leading to Seadrake . A pair of armsmen in the black and sky blue of House Sokol hopped down from the running boards as Nimessa Sokol descended from her seat. She looked splendid in a dress of burgundy velvet embroidered with golden flowers. To Geran’s surprise, an undistinguished dwarf with a bald pate and a forked beard of iron gray climbed down from the carriage after her, dressed in common workman’s garb. Nimessa glanced up and caught him watching her. She gave him a warm smile and started up the gangway with her strange companion at her side. Geran dropped down the steps leading to the main deck and went to meet her at the rail.