Seas of Chaos Page 6
Wix shook his head. “I’m still not used to it.”
“You were born to it, can’t see you doing anything else.” He handed Wix a number of rolled-up documents. “Here are all the papers. You are delivering sacks of flour. Everyone likes flour, nice and boring.”
“Not much of a profit.”
Hadrian smiled at him. He was in his late thirties, but looked younger when he wasn’t frowning. Or brooding. He loved to brood. “Merchants make money in the long run. Safest way to make a fortune, slowly, so that no one notices.”
That caused Wix to laugh and say under his breath, “and they call us the criminals.”
“Hmph. Speak for yourself. I am a gentleman, reduced to these lowly chores against my will.”
“Come on, part of you enjoys all of this cloak and dagger business.”
Hadrian was quiet for a moment. “Desperate times, my boy.”
“You and me both. No one says we can’t enjoy ourselves a bit though. Look at the bright side.”
“Which is?”
“Interesting company and big guns?”
They both laughed.
“How have you been keeping yourself?” Hadrian asked.
Wix gestured with empty hands. “Winter had us sailing in the South of here. Captain Murdock has been sitting outside of Snaketown now for more than four months.”
“Why?”
“Some trouble with the pirate fleet West of the straights. If he moves against them, they’ll scatter. If he moves on, they’ll attack the city.”
“And here you are.” Hadrian said it as a half-question.
“Yep. Murdock wants the new men trained, and all of us old crew to learn how to sail a ship like this.” He pointed to the Ardent Wind.
“By smuggling?”
“Why not? Makes more money than shipping flour. Anyway, I can’t get into the politics of the whole Snaketown thing. I really don’t know all that much anyway.”
Hadrian laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve figured it out already. Would you like to hear it?”
Wix sighed. “I forgot that you could do that.”
“What? Use my head? You have one too, try not to forget that.”
“You were saying?”
“Well, as long as the Lyat is guarding Snaketown without pay, they won’t pay the cost to arm a fleet. Captain Murdock made a mistake when declaring the city under his protection.”
“He was trying to do the right thing.” Wix protested.
“And he is succeeded marvelously, too much so. The city was weak before you all showed up and you are not helping matters.”
“What would you do? Let all of those people be enslaved by pirates?”
“I’m sure Captain Murdock is doing exactly what I would suggest.”
“Which is?”
“Why don’t you use your own head for that one, Captain?”
The business concluded quickly soon after. They passed through customs without even a suspicious glance from the port officials. No bribe either, which was always necessary. Wix could not figure it out, but Hadrian turned the pepper into flour. He changed it back inside the warehouse and handed the rest of the money to Wix.
“Just tell me how you did it.”
Hadrian sighed. “I’ll give you a hint. Don’t believe everything you see.” And with that, he turned around and left.
Now that the ship had unloaded its cargo, they would all spend a week or two in the port town, while Wix found another the crew their next job. Negotiating would be the difficult part. Each of the major families controlled a monopoly on certain goods, officially. They looked the other way when it came to smuggling because they were all doing it. With the merchants cut out completely, along with the controlling of the market, profits were higher than ever.
Wix had heard a few of the more ambitious merchants were hiring smugglers of their own, but the port officials were much more vigilant with them. The nobles were the only ones making any money in the sea trade, and things were getting violent. Cargo was seized at night by masked men and ships were sometimes sunk. Worse, no one seemed to be able to take control of the situation. The nobles were divided amongst themselves and the Watch were spread too thin to stop the random attacks.
“Captain, a whole bunch of shady types coming this way, wearing masks.” Mr. Howe said as he ran inside the warehouse, where Wix and his two marines were unloading the pepper from the wagon. The sun had finally set, darkness engulfing the port. A boy was beside Mr. Howe, fifteen year-old William, the Assistant Quartermaster.
“They probably want the cargo. Marines, grab your weapons and come with me.” Wix walked outside, Mr. Howe next to him and William trailing behind. The two marines drew out their hidden M16's and checked the magazines, flanking Wix on either side.
Men, and women, in masks filled the entire street. He counted at least twenty, all wearing black rags across their faces. Some carried torches, but most seemed comfortable in the dark. Wix had his pistol out and aimed it at the crowd, the other three men doing the same with their weapons. Mr. Howe had only a flintlock pistol, but he looked steady.
“Stand aside smuggler!” One of the raiders yelled. More added their voices, mostly curses. “We want that cargo! That’s all!”
“I have no problem gunning you all down!” Wix yelled back. “Someone just make a move!”
His confidence must have shaken them somewhat. There was a pause. Then they remembered that it was five-to-one. The yelling started again. A stone was thrown and hit Wix in the arm. Weapons were being drawn and pistols cocked.
“We gave you warning.” He muttered. “Take your time and make your shots count. Fire!” He said to his men. There was an explosion of gunfire and a cloud of acidic smoke from the pistol. The M16’s made sharp cracking noises as they fired. His handgun jumped in his hands as he fired steadily into the crowd.
Wix emptied the clip and looked for more enemies. The superior weapons had made short work of the mob. No one was left standing, few were even still alive. They were moaning, some screaming, in pain. The marines changed out their ammunition, keeping the old clips.
“Mr. Howe, William, help me unload the rest of the cargo. Marines, secure the area, and put those poor bastards out of their misery.”
Everyone jumped to obey and in a ten minutes the wagon was rolling away from the warehouse. As an afterthought, Wix ordered that the attackers’ weapons to be looked over. Anything with a blade, and a few pistols, were thrown into the wagon. Mr. Howe and William drove, while the rest rode in the back.
“One hell of a fight, Captain.” Mr. Howe said, not looking over his shoulder.
“Yeah, you could say that again. I forgot to ask, no one was hit right?”
They shook their heads ‘no’.
“Good.” The two marines smiled grimly at each other, but remained silent. Wix noticed that neither was very talkative. They had their guns out and looking out into the shadows, watching for threats.
“We staying here, sir? Even after the attack?” Howe asked.
“Yep. We need a cargo. No real point of sailing without one.”
“I suppose so, sir.” He did not seem reassured.
“Don’t worry. After that, they’ll think twice about messing with us again.”
“Damn straight, sir.” Said one of the marines, Wix couldn’t tell which one.
Wix was invited to lunch the following day with a Mr. Green, who even Wix knew was Lord Thompson Gange. The two were sitting outside, eating at a very expensive cafe in Snowy Down. It had taken Wix three hours to arrive by carriage.
“I heard about what happened the other night.” Mr. Green said with a wry twist of the mouth.
Wix only nodded, taking a sip of his tea.
“I did not think any smuggler, even one as reputable as yourself, would risk his life for goods he was already paid for.”
“Dumb pride, sir. I wouldn’t do it again and was lucky none of my men were hur
t.”
“I know it is rude of me to say, but I don’t believe you, Captain. I do not think you are intimidated by these masked men. Evidenced by last night, you do not need to be.”
Wix grunted. He knew that Lord Gange was really impressed only with the M16’s, not that he knew even what they looked like. But four men against twenty? Anyone could realize that there was an unfair advantage, for one side to walk away without a scratch.
“The city could use your help, Captain.”
“You mean, you could use my help. And I suspect you are right. I have a ship though, and a crew, and my first duty is to them.”
Mr. Green spread his hand out in front of himself, smiling even more. “And how best would your crew be taken care of? Smugglers make a good profit, but not good enough. A patron could be much more useful.”
“Mercenary work?” Wix smiled. The idea was not unattractive. However, they would have to be careful. Their ammunition was limited. “I will have to report to my superior, and ask for permission.”
“I thought you might say that. It so happens that I have cargo that needs to be moved. From here, a load of salted fish and other foodstuffs. On the way back, sugar and citrus from Snaketown.”
“In exchange for?”
Mr. Green smiled. “You are a shrewd man, Captain. In addition to payment, let’s say one hundred dollars. In exchange you will stay in port for two weeks. Keep the peace in Queen’s Cross. Then, after two weeks, our deal is done. You go and continue your smuggling.”
Wix nodded thoughtfully. One hundred dollars was enough to buy and outfit a ship. The deal was good, damn good. “Keep the peace?”
“Regular patrols and sentry duty at certain warehouses.”
“No raids.” It was not a question.
“No riads.” Mr. Green agreed. “I’ve already talked with the port officials and the Watch. You’ll all be working alongside each other.”
“It all sounds too good to be true.” Wix was still hesitant.
“Trust me, I don’t give out charity. With two weeks of stability, I will make as much money in that time that I make in a year. Demand is higher than ever. Plus, I have a feeling the raiders will make a move. If they can break this peace, then they might scare enough nobles so that their demands are met. Prepare for the worst, Captain. And remember, our deal only stands if you keep the peace. Otherwise you won’t seen a penny, and you will have to find different cargo.”
Mr. Green stuck out his hand and Wix shook it.
“We have a deal, Mr. Green. Not even a fistfight on these docks, for two weeks.”