Probably It's Prophecy, page 12
part #3 of Antiheroes Series
She laughed softly, more of a giggle really which, up until that point, Dannen would have said the woman wasn’t capable of. “You said that already.”
“Did I?” the captain asked with mock surprise on his face. “Surely not, for if I had, I do not doubt that you would have told me your name as well, and while I might be a bit…”
“Drunk,” Dannen offered.
“Comfortable, let’s say,” the captain continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “I do believe that, had you told me your name, I would have remembered it. How could I do anything else? A man does not forget the name of a sunrise, after all, does he? Nor does he forget what to call the starlight filtering down through the mantles of the trees in the darkness.”
“Or bullshit,” Dannen growled. “He doesn’t forget the name of that either.”
“Tell me, Two-Time,” Mariana said, still smiling, “are you hiring out your ship? We are seeking passage—as my friend here said—and we would be most…thankful, if you would carry us across the sea.”
The man nodded thoughtfully, rubbing a hand on his chin. “Across the sea, is it? Yes, well you’ve come to the right man, anyway. All these other—” he waved a hand at the common room—“sailors,” he sneered with obvious distaste, “are too scared of their own shadows to venture out into the ocean. Scared of children’s stories and fairytales.” He scoffed to show what he thought of that.
“According to Perrik,” Mariana said, “these fairytales are quite real.”
The man sighed. “Fine, I can’t argue with you—yes, if you want to be technical there is a sea monster in the water. Ooh, a terrifying sea monster,” he laughed. “Gods, but you’d think they never saw one before the way they carry on.”
Mariana raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean that it isn’t something to be scared of?”
“What?” he asked. “Oh, no, not at all, lass. I’ve seen the damned thing and believe me there are few enough of the living that can say as much. Scary as shit, and I don’t mind sayin’ so.”
“But…” She frowned, confused. “You just said—”
He sighed dramatically. “Fine, lass, you’ve got me. The truth is, I just don’t like the bastards.”
She laughed at that, and Dannen glanced at Fedder, shaking his head in wonder.
“So does that mean you’ll take us or not?” Dannen asked.
The captain glanced at him, raising his eyebrows as if he was only now realizing Dannen was standing there. “Who are these then?” the captain asked, glancing between Dannen and Fedder. “Your dad and…uncle, perhaps?” He craned his neck, nearly spilling out of his chair as he did to look at Tesler. “And that—he’s your brother, I take it?”
Mariana burst into another fit of giggles at that—there really wasn’t another word for it—and shook her head. “No, they’re…friends. This is Dannen, and Fedder and this is Tesler.”
“Her boyfriend,” the young man said considerably louder and more forcefully than necessary, but Dannen couldn’t blame him. Considering the way the man was carrying on he was tempted to be a bit forceful, a bit loud himself.
“Oh sure, sure,” the man said, grinning and nodding along as if he’d never heard something so ridiculous, and Dannen thought that Tesler would murder him. Thought, too, that he’d probably help. But the young man said nothing, studying his feet as if embarrassed.
“Anyway, will you?” Mariana asked. “Help us across the sea, I mean? We would be most thankful.”
The man nodded, running a hand through his lank hair. “Thing is, lass, I’d love to do nothin’ more. After all, what better way for me to bring a smile to that face than to do what you ask? And what a face it is, too! Indeed, it is the standing rule of Two-Time that he never denies a pretty woman, particularly one as pretty as you are. Only, there’s a bit of a problem. I’m afraid that I cannot sail, at least not right now.”
“What’s wrong, then?” Dannen asked. “Your ship gettin’ repairs?”
“Oh no,” the man said, “Gorgeous is quite well, I assure you, better than she ever was.”
Fedder grunted. “You…named your ship…Gorgeous?”
“So I did,” the captain agreed, “but lately I’ve been considering renaming it—to…what was your name again, lady?”
Mariana grinned again at that, and Dannen seriously considered punching the man in the face. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that they really had no other option. If they didn’t get out of the city soon, it was only a matter of time before they died—indeed, the only real question was what would get them first. A pissed-off mayor, wererats, or assassins. And, the gods being as cruel as they were, it seemed that this drunken fool was their only chance of doing that. It seemed to Dannen to be quite a bit of bullshit to put up with just to end up getting eaten by a sea monster, but then what choice did they have? None, that was the truth of it.
“So what is it?” Dannen asked. “Look, if it’s money, we’re prepared to pay well for—”
The man waved his hand dismissively, a frown on his face. “Coin, my friend, cannot buy a man joy or peace or…” He paused, glancing at Mariana and giving a meaningful wink. “Or love.”
“Maybe not,” Dannen agreed, “but in my experience smiles don’t pay for ale as easy as coin.”
The man sighed. “True but, as I said, it isn’t a matter of coin—you see…” He paused, looking at Mariana again. “I am quite rich. It comes from sailing places everyone else fears to, from doing things that no one else will. No, you see, it is not my fortune which I am concerned for, but the fortunes of us all should we set foot onto Gorgeous without everything in its…” He hesitated, running a hand through his long lank hair, a miserable expression on his face. “Well, in its proper place.”
“Why do I get the feelin’ you don’t mean supplies?” Dannen asked.
The captain heaved another heavy sigh. “You are right, of course, Mariana’s father.”
“Damnit, I’m not—”
“You see,” the captain said, “victuals, those might be easily enough acquired, if for a price far higher than in the past, what with the wererat invasion and the subsequent—and unfortunate coincidence—of the sea monster’s arrival. Some things though…some things are irreplaceable.” A look of pure misery came over his face then, and he ran an arm over his eyes as if to rid himself of tears.
“Oh, what’s wrong?” Mariana asked, sounding deeply concerned despite the fact that she’d just met the bastard—and he was a bastard, Dannen had long since decided that—only a few minutes ago. “Did…did you lose someone?” A pause then and she leaned closer. “Was it…was it your wife?”
The last came out in little more than a whisper, and Dannen glanced at Tesler to see the man watching the exchange with a pale expression.
“Oh no, nothing so…pedestrian as that,” the man answered shaking his head. “After all, wives can be replaced. The object of which I speak is far more…unique. Far more…necessary.”
“Well, damnit man what is it already?” Fedder asked.
“It is…” The captain leaned forward with a heavy gravity, and Dannen leaned in as well, drawn in by the man’s dramatic demeanor. “A hat.”
Dannen frowned and shared a look with each of the others, all of whom had leaned forward and all of whom, like him, were looking confused and more than a little annoyed. “Wait a minute,” Dannen said, “you mean to tell me that you’re acting this way over a damned hat? That…what, that you won’t sail over a hat?”
The captain gave a defensive look. “It’s not just a hat, friend,” he said. “It’s my lucky hat.”
“Your lucky hat.”
“That’s right. There isn’t another like it in all the world, and I’m not the only one who knows it. Ask the sniveling, cowardly thieves who stole it. They’ll tell you.”
“So…let me get this straight,” Dannen said. “You won’t sail without this hat and someone…stole it.”
“Exactly,” the man said, nodding.
“But…but that’s ridiculous,” Tesler said, speaking for the first time in a while, and they all turned to look at him.
“Is it?” the man asked, an undeniable challenge in his voice. “And what would you know of it? You’re barely more than a kid.”
Dannen frowned. It was hard to tell, what with the ale-stained shirt, the scraggly, unkempt facial hair and the lanky blonde hair on his head, but it seemed to him that if the man was any older than Tesler, that difference was minimal. He waited for Tesler to say as much, or to tell the man to shut up, or something. After all, Dannen figured that a man who could turn into a giant lion at will didn’t have to put up with the same amount of shit that other people did—not that he knew many who would put up with the amount of shit the captain had thrown out in the last few minutes.
Indeed, Tesler squared his shoulders, puffing his chest out for a moment. He opened his mouth as if to say some scathing retort, then he glanced at Mariana, and suddenly the anger seemed to go out of him. His chest deflated, his shoulders slumped, and his mouth slowly closed as his eyes drifted toward his feet. “I only meant…” he said, his voice barely loud enough to hear, “it’s just a hat…isn’t it?”
The man rolled his eyes then glanced to Mariana. “Tell me, my lady, did I ever tell you why they call me Two-Time?”
Dannen grunted, angry for Tesler. “And by ‘ever’ do you mean in the last five minutes which was the only time you two have ever spent together?”
“I thought…that is, Perrik, the barkeep, he made it sound like you were the one who called yourself that,” Mariana said.
The man winced at that, a brief consternation—which Dannen enjoyed to no end—flashing across his features before he schooled them once more, giving her a smile which seemed more than a little forced. “Anyway, the name came from my hat. You see, my lucky hat—and it is lucky—has saved my life twice. Once from muggers attacking me in the street, when my attacker’s blade became entangled in it, buying me the time I needed to ru—” He paused, clearing his throat and glancing at Mariana. “That is, to strategically withdraw to a place more advantageous to myself.”
Fedder grinned. “Like where? The guardhouse?”
The captain glanced over at the mage, opening his mouth, preparing, Dannen suspected, to offer some angry retort. But he paused as he took in the mage’s size and, apparently thinking better of it—which just showed that even drunken men had some sense left—he turned back to Mariana. “The second time was when one of my crew, thinking to…shall we say, put in their vote for a change of leadership, pulled a bow and fired an arrow at me, one meant for my neck and one that would have found its target had an errant wind not swept my hat from my head and I bent, at that exact moment, to retrieve it.”
“You mean to say that your crew mutinied?” Dannen asked. “Huh. I can’t imagine why. Anyway, what does this hat have to do with us?”
The man shrugged. “Well, nothing, I suppose, unless, of course, you want to get across the ocean. Then it means everything. You see, I cannot sail without my lucky hat.”
Dannen blinked. “You’re kidding.”
The man wasn’t, though. “It’s my lucky hat,” he repeated, as if that explained everything.
Dannen glanced at Fedder then back to the man, sighing heavily. “And where is this hat, exactly? And if it’s so lucky, why haven’t you gone and gotten it yourself?”
“I would have, of course,” the man said, “only, the thieves who took it…well, they are not reasonable men as one might hope. Mostly, one suspects, because they are not men at all.”
Dannen frowned at that, thinking he knew where this was going and not caring for it one bit. “They’re not men.”
“That’s right,” the man said, then he shifted uncomfortably. “You see, my hat was taken by the same wererats which currently infest the sewers of Berush.”
“Of course it was,” Dannen said. “Well, we appreciate your time.” He turned back to the others. “Come on—let’s go.”
He started away but paused as Mariana grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Wait, that’s it?”
“You’re damn right it is,” Dannen said. “Look, Mariana, we’ve got enough people applying for the role of our murderers. You ask me, there isn’t any need to go recruiting for the job.”
“So what then?” Tesler asked, though Dannen couldn’t help but see the sense of relief on his face, glad no doubt that they wouldn’t be making use of the captain’s services. “I mean…we do have to get across the ocean…don’t we?”
“Yes we do,” Dannen agreed. “But I’m sure one of these other captains would be more than willing to take us for enough coin.”
Fedder grunted. “Want we should start asking around?” the mage asked, glancing around the common room. Dannen followed his gaze and saw that while not every sailor was staring at them like they wanted to check their daggers’ sharpness in their backs, most were.
He shook his head slowly. “No, I think not. Seems we don’t have a lot of fans in here just now—no doubt what comes of stomping over half the common room’s patrons. Besides, it’s been a long day. We’ll get some rest, start in the morning.”
“And if they don’t?”
He glanced at Mariana. “What’s that?”
“If none of the other captains agree to take us?” she pressed. “What then?”
Dannen shrugged. “We could always try swimming.”
She frowned. “Seems silly, doesn’t it? What with a captain willing to take us?”
“Look, lass. I’ve found myself in a wererat infested sewer before. It isn’t an experience I care to repeat.” Even as he said it, memories of that terrible time surfaced. It had only been a few hours, yet it had felt like a lifetime. Shadows moving in the darkness, just outside the torchlight, and that chittering, so loud, so piercing that it could drive a man mad. “Don’t worry,” he said with more confidence than he felt, “we’ll find someone. We leave Berush tomorrow.”
Fedder grunted. “Won’t hear any complaints from me.” He hocked, started to spit then apparently realized that he was in the common room of an inn and swallowed it. “I don’t care for wererats. Nasty little bastards, they are, and the damned plague they bring with them…” He shook his head, a look of disgust on his face.
Dannen nodded. “Yeah. That’s another thing that’s bothering me.”
“What’s that?”
“Perrik said the wererats showed up a few months ago.”
“Yeah, so?” Mariana asked.
“So he did, Butcher,” Fedder said, “though I don’t see—” He paused, then frowned. “Ah. Shit.”
“Right,” Dannen said.
“What?” Tesler asked. “What is it?”
“As I mentioned,” Dannen said, “Fedder and I have seen these creatures before. They were in the city for a full year before anyone found out about them and by then, the place seemed a lot like Berush.”
“I…don’t understand,” Tesler said.
“What I mean, lad,” Dannen said quietly, glancing around to make sure they couldn’t be overheard and there, at least, he seemed safe. The only person close to them, after all, was Two-Time, and the ship captain was either meditating deeply or, more likely, passed out once more. “What I mean,” he repeated, “is that the signs we’re seeing, people getting sick, that sort of thing, well they had just started to happen when we were hired to clean out the wererat infestation. Took a year for things to get so bad, but according to Perrik and what the mayor said these wererats have only been here for two months.”
“Which means…” Mariana said.
Dannen shared a glance with Fedder and turned to the woman. “Which means someone’s lying. Something’s going on here. I don’t know what it is, and I don’t care. All I know is that we need to get out of Berush—soon.”
“But…why would the mayor lie?” Tesler asked.
Dannen met his eyes. “Why indeed. Anyway, it doesn’t matter—we’ll wake up at first light and get out of Berush as quickly as we can. The people of the city will have to deal with their wererat problem by themselves.” He glanced back at the unconscious captain. “The gods know we’ve got enough of our own just now.”
***
A short while later, Dannen was in his room, the door closed—and locked, of course. He lay in his bed, exhausted, but unable to find sleep no matter where he looked for it. Partially, he thought that was because he’d grown accustomed to Clarissa’s soft bed—and Clarissa sharing it with him, of course—during his time in Talinseh and so he felt each lump in the mattress on which he lay. Mostly, though, he chalked it up to the fact that, downstairs, was a common room full of pissed-off sailors looking for something to vent their anger on and thanks to Fedder, he and his companions were no doubt their first choice. Another worry then to add to the growing list.
It was the most damning thing, and one that grew worse as he got older, being tired and yet not being able to sleep. It was like some cruel jest of the gods, like dangling fresh cooked meat in front of a starving man then pulling it away each time he reached for it. Finally, resigning himself to another night of little or no sleep, he let out an angry huff and rose, walking to the room’s window.
It wasn’t much of a window in truth, barely more than a foot across in either direction. He glanced out of it at the ships sitting in the dock, their fishy cargo rotting and putting off a god-awful scent. He glanced down at the entrance to the tavern, half expecting to see a contingent of guardsmen come for them—such a misfortune would have been in keeping with the last week, shit, his entire life truth be told—but thankfully there didn’t seem to be any.
What he did see, however, was that most of the groups of sailors they’d seen huddled together when they’d arrived had dispersed, no doubt to find what sleep or drink they could. Most—but not all. One still remained, a group of four men, standing together and whispering, looking at something.
Dannen followed their gazes and saw a lone figure standing by itself about a dozen feet away from them. Poor fool, Dannen thought. Might as well hang a sign saying “Victim here: criminal wanted.” True, in the best of times, the sailors were probably friendly enough, certainly not the type that would attack a man for no cause. But then, with their cargo rotting on the decks of their ships and them unable to make any money, it was far from the best of times. They were angry, those sailors, and like all men when angry, they were looking for someone to blame.
