Chapter 155: Aella’s Journey
Aella stalked about the deck, her anger burning. How dare they? She scowled at the ship heading steadily toward them. It was painted a faint, mist-like grey, as if it were a ghost ship. She could see the crew crawling about like ants. The ship was real. Terribly, awfully real. Her children were below deck, safe with Dymion. Epelda had a cloak on, covering her gossamer wings. She would not go below, but the threat wasn’t against her. The Admiral cleaned her blade’s hilt again, glad to have it back. Evander, who was supposed to be sleeping, was instead at the helm, his face set in a neutral expression that would have impressed Nereida. Everyone moved with purpose, eyes on their Admiral or their Captain, watching and waiting. The air was charged with an anxious energy that had nothing to do with magic, and everything to do with the oncoming ship.
The other ship slowed as it approached, and their semaphore flags began to dance, requesting parlay. Aella asked what they needed, and almost lost herself to inappropriate laughter when they revealed the issue. They were running short of water. On the ocean, without potable water, they would die. She couldn’t help but think of her full stores, knowing that her wife and son-in-law could restock them at any time. She considered, ever so briefly, poisoning the water they would sell to them. She looked to Evander and Epelda.
“Thoughts?”
“If they’re low on water, they’ll come for ours… one way or another,” it was Gregors who spoke. The well muscled helmsman sneered, having none of the restraint of the first mate or captain. “Begging your pardon, Admiral. I spoke outta turn.”
“No, please, go on.”
“We can give them enough spare to get them to port. Four days of water is fine, or we can short ‘em to three in case we want to make ‘em hustle.” She nodded.
“I’ll wine and dine them, get Matthias to get them talking,” she mused. “We need to know if they are a single ship or a fleet off killing the sirens.” She glanced back at the other Admiral. Matthias’s eyes shone with something malicious that made her deeply uncomfortable. He crossed his arms slowly, a feral grin on his face.
“Oh, Admiral Aella, you do give me ever so much credit.”
“Make them sing,” she replied, her tone set to match his grin. He laughed.
“Give them permission to come aboard. Six only, to negotiate.” She gave the order, then turned to Epelda. “Give the order to Dymion to hide the children and my wife in his secret garden. They’ll be safe there.”
“Admiral?” Matthias had strolled toward her. His expression was lazy again. “Can I trust, darling, that you can hold your tongue enough for me to slide into their good will?” She grunted, and, without words, plucked her hat from her head and handed it to him.
“You, Admiral, will pretend to be the Admiral for the ship,” she said, hating herself. Her face must have shown her frustration, because bloody Matthias softened.
“An honour,” he whispered. “Thank you, cousin." He paused, just a beat, before his teasing lilt came back and his mask slid back into place. "First mate.” She nodded curtly, ignoring the emotional twinge that tried to surface.
She did turn away from Matthias and his strangely sincere expression. She was not going soft on him too. She just needed his skills. And he was family, of a sort. She wrinkled her nose and gave a shout.
“Until steel is drawn or the grey ship is on her way, Matthias is acting Admiral. His orders are my orders. Understood?”
“Aye!” was the reply from more than a dozen voices. Others scampered below to inform the rest of the crew. Matthias switched to her hat, asking one of the crew to put his down below for safe keeping. Without turning toward her, he quietly asked her to look busy.
“It’s almost time for the curtain to rise, Admiral,” he added with a lopsided smile. “Can’t be out of position now, can we?”
“No,” she sighed. She gave him an exaggerated salute, knowing they were likely being watched, and she headed to stand beside the helm.
The grey ship came up close enough to lower a gangplank. Aella busied her hands with untangling some rope as the delegation from the other boat came aboard. She’d expected demons. She’d fought so many demons, that it seemed they’d be the only ones evil enough to prey on sirens. But, then again, how many still believed the generations old lie that they sirens were insane? The leader, likely the first mate, was a tall elf of all things. The Sky-blooded elves normally did not come out of their mountainous homes. They were sharp of nose, with large, long ears and overly long fingers that would haunt Aella’s nightmares for weeks. They had short-shorn hair and looked around as if everyone was beneath them. Given their height, it was mostly true.
“Greetings, friends!” Matthias wore a charming grin. “I am Admiral Matthias, welcome to the Dragon’s Tooth.”
“I extend to you a greeting most friendly.” The mountainous elf’s voice was even and deep, lacking inflection. It was the least friendly greeting that Aella had heard in a long while. “I have come to offer a simple trade. Gold for water.” Aella noted that the elf did not offer their name or rank in return. She made eye contact with Gregors, and the large man nodded. He’d heard too. Trouble was brewing.
“We have just set out on our journey,” Matthias replied with what was likely a charming smile. The speaker seemed unmoved by the smile, Matthias plowed on. “Perhaps you’d regale us about what to expect between here and Port Windfall?”
“You will find the way clear. The demons and gnomes are engaged fully in the conflict by Havensburg. There are no sirens in the waters, and we have seen no great storms. The oasis island, however, has been poisoned by some kind of black ichor, and the only fresh water between here and Windfall is deep into the Forbidden Waters.” The elf barely moved as they spoke. Their crewmates shuffled from foot to foot, some looking around. One, who had the lean, pale build of a sylph, looked over Epelda in a way that made Aella’s skin crawl. He gave her a flirtatious smirk, but she had caught the leer, and turned her head away in silent rebuttal. He flashed a sign at one of the others, the sign for “whore”. Aella saw red, her hand straying to her hilt, but Matthias had also seen the sign, and he spoke. Some of his foppishness faded.
“I’d ask, friend, that you have your crewmates refrain from insulting my officers. Perhaps that word is best struck from your vocabulary, sylph.” He fixed his eyes on the offender. The elf chuckled, but it was a grating, almost hollow sound.
“Apologies. We have long been at sea, and my crew have some required rough edges to do what we do.”
“Oh?” Matthias looked back to the elf with a smile. “Treasure seekers are you?”
“No, nothing so vulgar.” The elf shrugged their shoulders. “We are pest control.”
“Ah. Well, I am afraid, given our stock, that we can only spare enough water for three days,” Matthias said. “It will be tough, as the nearest Lagrian port is just over three days away with fair weather, but not impossible.” The elf’s face showed the first hint of emotion: derision.
“No, we’d need a week’s worth, at least, to return to Windfall. We won’t enter Lagrian waters while their king is beset by madness.”
“I’ve just come from there, but I heard no such rumours!” Matthias’s grin did not falter, and he managed to sound genuinely surprised.
“If you made port there, surely you must have heard the rumours that sirens are welcome, that their own princess has been replaced by a siren changeling. They have embraced vipers in their midst, and when the gods awaken, they will be struck down for the audacity to side with the corrupted, insane, murderous fish folk.” The elf delivered their words without their voice changing pitch or tone. It was almost monotonous, which filled Aella with yet more dread. Her crew were openly staring at the elf, some with naked hostility. The elf’s crewmates shuffled, taking in the hate in the eyes of those they begged for water. Hands moved towards weapons on both sides. “I see your crew has fallen under the spell of such creatures as well. Tell me, Admiral, is this ship yours? For I had heard that the Tooth’s Admiral is a woman being held captive by the Lagrians.”
“I think, friend, that you have worn out your welcome. Return to your ship. My people will spare none of their water.” Matthias’s voice was calm, almost kind, as if he were offering some kind of peace accord. The elf’s eyebrow rose slowly, as if they could not dare believe that Matthias was sending them away.
“I will be having your water one way or another,” the elf said, never taking their eyes off Matthias. He sounded bored. “Will you be taking gold or steel for it?”
“Oh, darling, if you think you can take the Tooth without getting bitten, you are mistaken.” Matthias said with a laugh. Aella knew him enough to hear that the laugh was forced, but the elf took offence and spun about. He ordered his crew back.
Matthias let them go, and did not order the gangplank withdrawn until the six were back on their ship.
“If they don’t attack us before dawn tomorrow, I’ll eat my hat,” Matthias muttered with uncharacteristic gloom on his face.
“I’ll let you use some of the good seasoning,” Aella offered. He barked a laugh, caught off guard by her blithe comment.
“Oh, darling, you are secretly very funny.”
“Did you think my wife kept me for my sharp tongue?” she replied. Matthias gave a good long chuckle, before he ordered they continue course in his loud voice. As the others got back to work, he paused, looking over at her with a sly, amused expression.
“Oh, Admiral, darling, I think that’s exactly why she keeps you around.” He wandered off, still barking orders in between adolescent-like giggles. She stared after the man, wondering if she could get away with dunking him in the sea. Just for a moment.
Luckily for Matthias, and to absolutely no one’s shock, the other vessel gave chase within the hour. Matthias, still wearing her hat, called all All-Hands. Aella let him, content to observe him. There was a rallying cry, someone clearly happy to turn their weapons on the ship.
“Darling,” Matthias said, pulling her aside as the crew gathered. “It is best if we keep the sirens beneath. These… well, I hesitate to use the term monsters, but, alas, here we are, these monsters will not stop with simply boarding us if they win but see the sirens.”
“I’ll give the order,” she sighed, feeling dread in her very toes. Dragons’ fuzzy moss-covered ass, Nereida was going to be pissy about being told to stay below.
Aella forced her way past her crewmates who were rushing up, elbowing past them and catching one poor soul in the gut with her elbow. But she knew she had to get to Nereida and Jules before their blue hair and blue skin got everyone on board killed. She made it to the corridor, calling out for Jules first, knowing the young man was quicker on the ship than Nereida. He was by her side in half a breath, his chest heaving. He straightened up, taking a moment to straighten his vest and hair before he turned to her with a serious expression.
“Reporting for duty, Admiral.”
“Get to the bilges. Bring my wife and Alejo. Do not come out, no matter what you hear above. If the ship starts taking in water, keep it out. I’ll have Dymion keep the baby and Egaz out of your hair.”
“Yes Admiral,” he replied, his shoulders falling. He looked down at his bare feet.
“It’s not a punishment, you daft boy. If they see you, they’ll burn the ship and kill all of us. Remind my wife of that, after she’d done yelling at me, you hear?”
“Yes ma’am. Sir.” He stuttered and flushed a bit, before he turned and started trotting away.
Aella tried not to heave a great sigh as the boy disappeared below. She had no time to coddle him. She pushed the door open to the kitchen, only to find her wife and sons peeling potatoes without a care in the world. Nereida looked up at her, almost defiantly.
“I assumed I’d not be welcome to the All Hands,” the princess said, her tone clipped as she dragged the peeler across the potato.
“Can you and Alejo help in the bilges? If we take on too much water…” Aella let the thought die. Slowly, Nereida placed the half-peeled root back with the others. She nodded, though every movement was tense. Alejo carelessly tossed his own potato into the sack. He paused and glanced back at Egaz.
“I’ll protect Eggy,” the little boy said, crossing his arms to mimic his mother’s stance. “Someone has to.” Aella swallowed, but pushed away her urge to tell him it would not be necessary. It might be. She straightened her posture.
“That’s a good little crewman. Off you pop.” Egaz grinned at her, and scurried into the back where Dymion had, somehow, hidden a magical oasis.
Above deck, a faint whistle sounded.
“They are in range,” Aella told her wife softly. “Be safe, yeah?”
“I will if you will,” Nereida replied with a teasing smile. But her grin faltered and fear crept into her eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you, Ner. See you shortly.” Aella turned and ran as cannon-fire shook the deck above her. If those dragon-cursed asshats broke the door to her quarters, she was going to be cross.