The Hero (Navarre Book 3), page 12
Grant was so astonished by insulting words that she gaped rather than grow angry.
“Some of the people here,” Alfred continued, “are undoubtedly the old-fashioned, kill-everyone-and-take-their-goods pirate scum you think they are. But others are simply merchants taking advantage of an unconventional port to fill their holds. And some, the best of the lot, are privateers who are sanctioned by their rulers to hunt down enemy shipping just as we do for our king. And of those, one of the ones who comes closest to what we are, is the Sea Hawk and Captain Braddock. We need her. And you’re going to have to ask for her support.”
Grant knew that he was right. It was why they came to Hidden Harbor. But now that she was here and the moment was almost upon her, she found her pride pushing her to look for reasons not to do it. “As if Braddock cares. She’s probably happy that thirty thousand Forestrian colonists are about to die.”
“Maybe,” Whitelock conceded. “I suspect that a lot of the genuine pirates will feel that way. We have, after all, been trying to catch and execute them for decades. “But maybe the best of them like Meredith Braddock have begun to realize that orcs invading these islands are a danger to every kingdom bordering the Western Sea. You won’t know until you ask.”
Rather than answer, Grant lifted her glass again. “I think the rest are mostly pirate vessels and a couple of probable merchant ships. But I also see the Red Wind out of Cheshire.”
“Captain Zack’s reputation is not quite as good as Braddock’s. He’s believed to have preyed on Forestrian shipping in the past. But by all accounts he’s a stout commander who runs a tight ship.”
“And I suppose you think we should just overlook his piracy and ask for his help as well,” Grant complained.
“Captain,” Alfred reminded her. “There are thirty thousand people in Queenstown and around a hundred thousand on Crater Island. We definitely need the help of every ship in this harbor and if that means you have to hand out a few pardons to obtain their assistance, then so be it.”
“I don’t have the authority to pardon a pirate,” Grant protested. “Only a governor or the king can do that.”
“Do you really think that there is a single governor in Forestria who would not be willing to forgive every past offense represented in this harbor in exchange for their help fighting off an orc invasion?”
Grant accepted Whitelock’s assertion even though she was not as convinced as he that every governor would see sense. Instead of pushing that point however, she asked a more important question. “But what if I offer the pardons and they still refuse?”
“Then we get back on our ships and go die fighting to save the subjects of our king,” Whitelock told her with a grim determined smile.
His words made her heart sink a little lower. “You really see no hope for us without these people?”
“Edith,” Alfred used her given name a second time. “I don’t see any hope for us with these people. I just think that we are likely to kill a lot more of the orcs before we go down if we have help from Hidden Harbor.”
Chapter Twenty-Two: Thorne Speaks Again
Bonnie’s tavern was packed again with people worried that the Steadfast had returned to their waters.
“I can’t figure out why she left her frigates and that schooner in the sea outside the island,” one of the pirate captains complained.
“It’s probably to catch us when we try to leave,” another worried.
Navarre decided that it was time to bring some order to the growing frenzy. He leapt up on the table and tossed his hat up toward the ceiling, catching it when it came down again. Most of the eyes in the room caught sight of the unusual movement, turned toward him, and began to quiet to hear what their sheriff had to say.
“I do not understand,” Navarre told them, “why any of you are concerned that the Steadfast has returned. It is quite clear that there is nothing for anyone in our community to worry about. If Captain Grant wishes to come ashore, she will have to agree to the three rules, and if she or her crew violates them, I will take care of it.”
“You talk a good story, halfling,” Lieutenant Mitchel called out in a tone that could only be considered crowing. “But that’s a ship of the line out there. Your days of pretending you’re a real official are over.”
“I should think so,” Lady Olivia, one of the colonists from Star, affirmed. “Don’t you agree, Elizabeth?”
To everyone’s surprise, the woman who kept reminding them that she was the daughter-in-law of a baron, shook her head. “No, Olivia, I do not.”
“What?” her friend exclaimed.
“I see no reason,” Lady Elizabeth explained, “that the captain of the Steadfast should not agree to the sheriff’s three rules if she desires to come ashore. She is, after all, a civilized woman representing the greatest human power in the world.”
“But there are pirates here!” Olivia reminded her with unfeigned outrage.
“Oh, I quite agree,” her friend told her. “But there are also people who have treated us fairly even if they do have difficulty understanding the proper decorum they should display to people of our social station. I have come to realize that I cannot hold their poor manners against them, for they are obviously a rabble. But if they were the common scum that you continually indicate, Olivia, they would have robbed and murdered us instead of treating us like customers—”
“They treat us abominably!” Olivia interrupted.
Elizabeth’s son, the baronet, injected himself into the conversation. “How so, Lady Lawrence?”
“These outlaws expect me to empty my own chamber pot!” the woman complained.
Lieutenant Mitchel reentered the conversation. “I hate to disagree with a woman of your standing, Lady Spenser, but Lady Lawrence is correct. Captain Grant will certainly take over Hidden Harbor, arrest and execute all the pirates, and confiscate all the stolen material.”
“And imagine,” Bonnie the dwarf noted in her deep brogue, “he calls us pirates.”
“After Captain Grant’s last visit—” Navarre started before Mitchel interrupted him.
“Captain Grant was here before?”
“Yes,” Navarre affirmed a bit testily. “Have you been sleeping? Is there a great deal of wax to clean out of your ears? The Steadfast is returning to Hidden Harbor.”
“But, why are any of you still here then?” Mitchel asked with a great deal less certainty than he had started the conversation.
The door opened and Daughter Lily entered, looking exhausted and unhappy. “Thorne has come to me again,” she announced before her voice deepened considerably. “Listen to her! Help her!”
Once again, Navarre recognized the voice of Himel—not Thorne.
“Why does she think—” he started to ask the voices in his head, but the one that was a reflection of the god, Himel, interrupted him.
“I handle most divinations for the other gods,” he explained.
“Divinations are so tedious,” Thorne complained.
“You got that right, laddie,” Furaidh grumbled.
“We don’t all spend our time searching out the futures as Himel does,” Tyran noted.
In the tavern, Daughter Lily collapsed, but thanks to the quick actions of Baronet Reginald, she did not hit the floor.
“Regi, you are a true gentleman,” Gabi told him as he placed the priestess in his own chair.
“I don’t know what happened last time that let you survive the Steadfast’s visit,” Lieutenant Mitchel told the gathered people, “but you just heard the priestess. Thorne supports Forestria’s calling to rule the waves.”
From her chair, Daughter Lily shook her head. “You need to learn to listen too.”
Chapter Twenty-Three: Accusations
Captain Edith Grant leapt nimbly from the prow of the longboat onto the shore where the sheriff, flanked by a couple of dozen curious onlookers, stood waiting to greet her.
The halfling immediately swept off his hat—a head piece fancy enough to make every halfling she had ever met green with envy—and bowed. “Welcome back to Hidden Harbor, Captain Grant and Master Wizard Whitelock. It is good to see you both again.”
He put the hat back on his head and offered Grant his hand. She had to bend down to shake it as he was little more than half her height. His fingers were strong, but they did not try and crush her hand.
“The last time you visited,” the sheriff said as Alfred Whitelock stepped up beside the captain, “things were a bit unsettled. I hope that this time we can have a more regular visit, which, of course, begins with a discussion of the three rules.”
Grant took a deep breath. Now was the moment, and it was harder because there were so many witnesses. “Sheriff,” she announced in a loud proud voice. “I agree to all of your rules. I do not need to hear them again. In truth, I will not be here long enough to break them. I am here to ask—”
Her voice cracked as the enormity of what she was doing struck her—a captain of the proud Forestrian navy requesting help from a rabble of pirates. Then she remembered that tens of thousands of lives were at stake—a third of them probably children and she firmed her resolve.
“No,” she corrected herself. “I am not here to ask for anything. I have to come beg for your assistance.”
Two dozen people gasped in surprise, everyone but the tiny sheriff who continued to look up at her with those warm brown eyes.
“A fleet of orc battle barges has destroyed the colony of Oak Grove and is bearing down on Queenstown,” Grant continued while everyone gaped in horror at her. “You and the people of this community are the only men and women alive who have bested the orcs in battle at sea. There are thirty thousand lives at stake and I can’t save them on my own. Will you please help me?”
Navarre, ridiculous halfling sheriff of the pirate community of Hidden Harbor, took off his hat again and held it over his heart. “I give you my solemn pledge, Captain Grant, that I will do everything in my power to help defend those poor unfortunate people. As for the rest of my people, let us go into town together and make our case.”
Against all sanity, Grant felt her heart warm, as if there really was a chance that they could save Queenstown.
Without another word, Grant, Whitelock, and the sheriff, followed by four of the eight marines who had rowed her to the shore of the lagoon, turned and began to walk toward the ramshackle little town while most of the two-dozen people who had heard her conversation with Navarre ran ahead to tell everyone else what was happening.
To Grant’s surprise a rough column of men in ragtag Forestrian uniforms appeared on the beach marching toward them. At its head was a man wearing a naval lieutenant’s insignia. He brought his column straight up to Grant, stopped, and saluted. “Lieutenant Mitchel and crew from the frigate, Sir Nelson, captain. Thank, Thorne, you have arrived to bring some order to this place. That halfling—
“A Forestrian officer?” Grant interrupted him. “Excellent! Where is your frigate, lieutenant?”
“Destroyed by a giant local predator, captain,” Mitchel reported. “This halfling could have saved it but chose to let it be destroyed.”
Grant frowned. “It appears that he rescued you, lieutenant.”
Mitchel seemed slightly offput that her response was not immediately supportive. He tried again. “The halfling is pretending to be a Forestrian sheriff. He even has what appears to be a forged star of office. He has assaulted me and my men on several occasions. I recommend that you immediately arrest him. I will happily testify at his trial so he can be hung from the nearest yardarm.”
Grant turned to examine Navarre. “Assaulted an officer of the Forestrian navy? That is a very serious accusation. Tell me, lieutenant, did Sheriff Navarre explain to you and your men the three rules of Hidden Harbor?”
A strange tick made the lieutenant’s cheek pulse. “Captain, I don’t think you understand. He’s not really a sheriff. He’s—”
“Answer the question, lieutenant!” Alfred Whitelock snapped.
“Um, yes, sir,” the officer stammered. “He did explain the rules.”
“And did you violate the rules?” Grant demanded.
“Captain?” the officer obviously couldn’t believe that he was being cross examined like this.
Grant turned back to Navarre. “Sheriff?”
“The lieutenant and his crew did not get out of the wreck of their frigate with money,” the tiny halfling explained. “They were offered work as pickers and guards on harvesting trips into the jungle. They refused the employment and then stole food. When I corrected them, they drew weapons and I was forced to pacify them. It took being knocked unconscious three different times for Lieutenant Mitchel to understand that he is not owed support by the residents of Hidden Harbor.”
“I see,” Grant said with a withering glare at Mitchel who shrank back a step. “And has he fulfilled any penalty that you have placed upon him?”
“The lieutenant owes one gold crown and each of his men ten silver sovereigns before they can leave on any vessel,” Navarre reported. “In lieu of payment, they are welcome to surrender their left hands.”
“That seems remarkably fair,” Grant acknowledged.
“Captain!” Mitchel’s voice was filled with outrage.
Grant hefted her own coin purse, felt the weight, and tossed it to Navarre. “I think you will find this sufficient, sheriff. Please make a donation to the shrine of Iris of any additional funds you may find there.”
“That is very generous of you, captain,” Navarre said as he accepted the money.
Grant returned her attention to the grounded naval officer. “Lieutenant, you are very fortunate. Normally, I would place you under arrest for bringing such shame upon the naval service, but as we are about to go into combat against a fleet of orcs, I have decided to delay judgement pending your performance in the coming battle.”
“What?” Mitchel exclaimed, unable to understand his change in fortune.
Grant turned to the man in charge of her marine guard. “Sergeant Stebens, escort the lieutenant and his men back to the Steadfast while I discuss the situation we are facing with the good people of Hidden Harbor.”
The sergeant saluted and immediately began to lead Mitchel away.
“Now that that minor problem is resolved,” Navarre suggested, “let us continue down the beach. You can see that the people are already gathering—far more than could fit in Bonnie’s Tavern. Let’s go plead your case.”
Chapter Twenty-Four: Hard Decisions
Navarre climbed up onto a barrel in front of Bonnie’s Tavern and faced the thousands of people who formed the community of Hidden Harbor and its visitors. He was a little bit surprised by the number of people who had come, but then, everyone had to be afraid that the orcs would be coming back here.
He waved his hat back and forth until the crowd grew quiet, then he addressed his neighbors. “Thank you for coming, my friends. I am certain you all already know the heart of what is happening. The orcs who have three times threatened our community now move to crush another. I am told that more than thirty thousand lives are at stake and—”
“No one helped us when the orcs came here!” someone shouted from the middle of the crowd.
“Now you know that is not true,” Navarre lightly chastised the man. “The valiant Captain Braddock of the Sea Hawk stood by us and fought the orcs during the second invasion. And the noble Baronet Reginald bravely stepped forward to help during the third assault.”
“The orcs never got here that third time,” someone else—a woman this time—objected. “You stopped them at sea.”
“They were in sight of our island,” Navarre reminded them. “I think they would have come after digesting their prize. But we are getting sidetracked. Three times the orcs have been in our neighborhood. Now they are threatening to kill others and Captain Grant of the Royal Navy of Forestria has come to ask our help. Please listen to her. Daughter Lily has brought a message from the gods asking us to listen to the captain.”
“Himel wasn’t asking,” Furaidh grumbled inside Navarre’s head.
Winston, the old man who helped Bonnie run her tavern, carried a wooden chair over to Grant and then offered his hand to help her step up on it so she could be seen. She looked pale in the sunlight despite her tan. She opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, and then started again.
“You all know who I am and at least half of you hate me and everything I represent.”
A rousing murmur of agreement.
“And let’s face it,” the captain continued, “many of you have cause to do so.”
That brought exclamations of surprise to the mouths of many while Grant pressed forward with her plea.
“Forestria is trying to re-establish order out here in the Western Sea and that is exactly what a lot of you and your—let’s call it businesses—do not want. Maybe you’re right and maybe we are. I suggest to you that that doesn’t matter now. The orcs have returned in numbers for the first time since the Battle of Ice Flow Cove and no matter how bad you think that my king and queen and our navy are, we are nothing compared to the horror that those orcs represent to you.”
She paused but there were still no friendly faces directed toward her.
At her side, still standing on his barrel, Navarre quietly encouraged her, “Go ahead, captain.”
She resisted the urge to wet her lips. “Queenstown has thirty thousand people living in it and if those orcs reach them, they are all dead. You know it and I know it. Crater Island has another seventy thousand outside of Queenstown and most of those will be killed as well if the orcs decide to plunder the whole colony. My ships cannot stop them alone. But there are a lot of ships here and men and women who know how to fight. And I am begging you to put aside the grievances of the past and help me save all of those people.”
Captain Zack of the Red Wind raised a neutral question. “How many ships are you talking about, Captain Grant?”
