The tavern was noisy, smelly, and absolutely full of life, exactly as Ghassan remembered it from the many times he had passed by during his youth as well as the more recent occasions when the Wind of God was docked here. However, despite his familiarity with the building, he had never before set foot inside it.
The interior was murky, reeking of the root cultivated by the desert nomads that was burned and smoked in clay pipes, mixed with the smell of sweat and that curious salty odour that only a lifetime sailor could cultivate. Squinting, Ghassan cast his gaze left and right. The tavern population seemed to polarise, with certain types gathering in small groups. There were several likely-looking groups that could represent the crew of the Empress and for a moment the fugitive officer chided himself for not asking more detail of his brother.
Through the crowds, as he clicked his tongue irritably, he spotted a heavy-set man with a design of whorls and spines tattooed across his scalp. Smiling, he realised that was probably why Samir had directed him to the first officer. Ghassan remembered that scalp from his brief time on board. Ursa was rather hard to miss.
Taking a deep breath, the tall man straightened and strode across the room, coming to a halt before the group who were spread across four tables at one end of the room. He almost laughed when the whole bunch fell silent, to a man, as he approached them. It was like something from an old comedy tale.
“Ursa, yes? I’m sure I remember you.”
The big man turned an angry face on him and his eyes flashed dangerously.
“Only if you’d like me to shout out your name, captain.”
Ghassan nodded.
“Agreed. Indiscreet of me. My apologies. I’m here at the request of my brother.”
Ursa nodded.
“He warned me. You’re to help us cut out the Empress and meet him later?”
“Yes, but more than that” Ghassan said, gesturing at a chair and raising his eyebrow.
The big first officer nodded and, as they sat, Ghassan noted with a mix of humour and discomfort the unpleasant looks many of the pirates were directing at him. He couldn’t entirely blame them, of course. He had been their most ardent adversary for many years and, were the roles reversed, he might well have tried to kill them by now.
“My brother is unwilling to leave even a part of his crew, and I tend to agree. We’re to free your shipmates and then take the ship. But before we make any sort of move, I need to be sure that you’re with me and I have a feeling some of you are struggling with that?”
Ursa shrugged.
“You’re no one’s favourite here. Can’t say as I’d have time for you myself if it weren’t for the law having been laid down by the boss; he threatened to gut anyone who laid a finger on you. Most of the lads would never dream of disobeying the cap’n, but there might be the odd man who thinks it would be worth it just to watch you bleed out.”
Ghassan nodded and turned to smile at the other men, who were still glowering at him.
“Anyone here have an issue with taking orders from me in your captain’s absence?”
There was a tight silence, though the level of apprehension around the table increased noticeably.
“Let me put it another way: I release every man here from their oath to my brother. I can’t do anything with a crew that are only with me because they’ve been told to be. So… given that you’re all free to knife me, with Ursa as a witness to my promise, who wants a go?”
Smiling, he pushed his seat back from the table, remaining firmly in it.
There was an uncomfortable pause as two men opposite him looked at one another and shuffled in their seat. The threat of displeasing Samir apparently still held them back. He smiled.
“No one at all?”
Ursa, next to him, leaned close for a moment.
“Don’t do this, sir. The cap’n will kill me if I let the men hurt you.”
Ghassan smiled and nodded.
“I’ll take my chances, Ursa. You take yours.”
Noting the man opposite who was almost out of his seat, his knuckles whitening on the seat arms with strain, Ghassan sized him up. These men were brutal and dangerous, but they would be honourable at some level, or Samir wouldn’t have them. It would be a shame to hurt them, but an example was worth a thousand speeches.
“Well?”
He took a preparatory breath as the man launched himself from the seat, pushing the table out of the way as he rose. Ghassan continued to sit and smile.
Stepping closer, the man clenched his fists and leapt in. Ghassan, having apparently goaded the biggest of the opposition and therefore most likely the slowest, waited until the first swing came. Lunging forward out of his chair, he rose immediately in front of his target, so close he was already inside the man’s swinging arm.
Ducking his head as he rose, he jabbed out with both hands. His left, formed into a shape resembling a dog’s paw, jabbed hard into the inner elbow of the swinging limb, his aim accurate. Simultaneously, his other hand homed in on the man’s free arm, which was reaching toward the sheathed dagger at his waist. Ghassan’s thumb and forefinger shaped into a pincer, he grasped the man’s wrist on the inside, just up from the heel of the hand, and squeezed hard.
As the man stumbled forward, blinking, his right arm dead from the elbow down and his left hand frozen in a claw of pain, Ghassan sighed and stepped back.
“I’ve always accorded myself a man of principle and honour and, as such I need everyone here to be completely open with me and I’ll extend you the same courtesy.”
He smiled as he gently pushed his assailant back upright.
“This man was going for his knife with the plain intent to kill. At least he’s let me know where he stands with this… or rather, where he falls…”
Still smiling warmly, he took a single step forward to stand inches from the nose of the stunned attacker, who was staring at his own lifeless hands in astonishment. Tilting his head to one side, Ghassan reached out and tapped the man in the temple with his forefinger. With a sigh, the large pirate folded, his eyes rolling upwards as he collapsed to the floor.
“See…” Ghassan said, stepping back away from the shuddering heap, “I don’t really want to hurt any of you but I’m going to need every man tonight, and I can’t have anyone with me who isn’t totally committed to the goal. Anyone else have any issue?”
He held his smile as he looked around the assembled stunned faces. Ursa blinked at him.
“How the hell did you do that?”
Ghassan turned to him.
“I’m a man of hidden talents, Ursa. Now, shall we get on with this?”
With a nod, the heavy-set, tattooed man sank into his seat and pulled it up to the table. Ghassan nodded to himself and returned to his own seat, pulling it forward next to the unconscious form of his victim, and leaning with his elbows on the table conspiratorially.
“I’ve no idea what your captain’s grand plan is, but I am with him now, entirely. My duty is done and I am committed to helping get your crew and your ship out. I don’t want to have to perform any more demonstrations so, if anyone is still unsure, leave the tavern now.
He waited for a moment. There was silence and a great number of meaningful looks were exchanged, but nobody stood.
“Good. This is going to be hard enough if we’re all reading from the same scroll, if you get my drift. Now… are we safe enough to talk here, so long as we keep our voices down?”
Ursa nodded.
“Lot of friends of the Empress here, sir, so no problem as long as you’re quiet.”
“Good. The way I see it, we’ve two distinct goals here, and they each have their problems. Firstly, we’ve got to get your shipmates out of the stockade, and secondly we’ve got to get on board the Empress and get her underway before anyone raises the alarm.”
The man across the table next to the recently vacated seat, who had clearly been verging on attacking Ghassan himself, leaned back, his brow furrowed.
“I’ve been in that stockade, drunk and detained. There’s no easy way in or out. There’s a compound with three huts for the port guard: guard house, armament store, and bunk house. The compound’s walled and patrolled, with only one gate. The stockade is inside that, and has its own permanent guard. I’m not even going to go into how hard it’ll be to get the Empress out…”
Ursa nodded.
“I helped the cap’n get the big liquid fire pots from the store, but that was easy. The ammunition store backs onto the perimeter wall. The stockade’s inside, though; much more difficult.”
Ghassan frowned.
“There are only eight guards in the compound at night on a normal night. Given the current situation with them looking for myself and my brother, I would expect them to double the guard, and they’ll be more alert than usual. So we’re looking at perhaps sixteen guards.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You say you got into the armament store?”
“Yes” Ursa replied, shrugging. “It backs onto the outer wall. The cap’n and I went over the wall onto the roof of the place and just took some of the tiles away and climbed in. That was easy, coz the man on the door was asleep. Tonight’ll be different, though. They won’t be asleep, there’ll be more of them, and you’ll need to get past that and across the compound.”
Ghassan grinned.
“I think I have an idea how we can do this. In fact, if I’ve got this worked out right, it’ll help with getting the Empress away too.”
The crew collectively frowned, but they were used to such tight-lipped confidence from their own captain, so this was nothing new.
“I give you my word” Ghassan said, his face straight, “and my word is not given lightly, that I am in allegiance with my brother and I intend to do everything I can to get the Empress and her crew out of M’Dahz. Do I have your word that you won’t make stupid attempts to knife me in the back as soon as I turn it?”
There was a general murmur of assent, though Ghassan would have liked a little more vehemence about it. Ursa leaned on the table and gestured at him with a finger.
“We’re all honest men, cap’n… or at least as honest as ever trod on Lassos. The boss carefully chose every man here over years, shipping out crewmen he didn’t trust or that didn’t have the right sort of character for him, if’n you know what I mean. You’ll have no trouble from us, but every man here, me included, wants to know why you’re doing this, you being a naval man and all?”
Ghassan raised his brow and nodded slowly.
“That’s a fair question. Firstly, I am not turning against my former comrades… that would be unthinkable. Consequently, I will not attack a naval ship or crewman without just cause.”
He sat back heavily.
“But I know my brother. He is not a bloodthirsty maniac and, despite appearances, he is as noble and honourable as I. He has some grand plan that he’s not shared with any of us yet, but I’ve seen for decades how his mind works, and he’s cleverer than any of us.”
The frowning man beside the empty chair narrowed his eyes.
“That’s half an answer. You’ve spent years hunting your brother down and now you want to join him? There’s got to be more to it than that.”
Ghassan nodded.
“Truly, I wouldn’t be here by pure choice. Unfortunately, when the woman responsible for all of this sold your captain out to the governor, she also blackened my name and made me a traitor in the eyes of my superiors. Had I stayed in the tower, I would be dead within the week. My brother offered me the chance to free myself and clear my name.”
The other pirate laughed.
“Strange directions the fates take you, captain, when you have to join pirates to clear your name.”
Ghassan laughed. “Strange, indeed; but nothing that involves my brother is ever what it seems at first to be. Come on. Let’s wake your friend here and get to serious planning.”