The Disjointed Tales Of Renryre Island

14-2: A Tail Of Revenge [continued]

"Right," said Tailfin, "hop in the tender, all of you. We have a job to do."

The men all piled into the tender, which wasn't designed for a dozen men. All of them except the henchman.

"I can't swim, boss!"

"I remember. So, would you prefer to climb into the boat, or be thrown into the bay in a sack?"

"Ah... neither, boss."

The henchman turned and sprinted, vanishing into the distance.

"I suppose he won't be coming with us then," remarked The Scribe.

Tailfin and The Scribe joined the bruisers in the boat, and watched them paddle in desperate confusion while the boat swung in circles. It took a while to organise them into a synchronous motion – even then it was rather a sad display.

"I hope you aren't planning on having this bunch paddle us all the way to Littleren?" asked The Scribe.

"Of course not," said Tailfin. "See that ship over there..."

The tender bumped into the side of the luxury ship, and the men scrambled up the ropes. A short commotion on the deck quickly died down, and Tailfin and The Scribe followed them onboard.

"Good evening, gentlemen," said Tailfin to the crew being held hostage by his men. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Tailfin. Welcome aboard my ship."

"Your ship?" protested the captain.

"Yes, my ship."

"This is Arynlock's ship."

"I know whose ship it was."

The crew stood startled a moment longer before the captain relented.

"No harm will come to my crew?"

"None at all, assuming they follow orders."

"Where to, then?"

"Littleren. It's a little—"

"I know it. Claims more ships than it allows safe passage. Too risky. Besides, we'd need to fight the Whalebreaker current to get there. This ship isn't made for the high seas, nor are my crew trained for it. This is a luxury ship, it stays in the bay."

"That doesn't sound like following orders to me, captain," said Tailfin without a hint of humour. "You can die here, or you can attempt to land on Littleren. What will it be?"

The captain sagged, his arms metaphorically bound.

"Prepare to sail!" he called, then turned back to Tailfin. "Your cabin is the largest in the sterncastle, over there."

"Thank you, captain," said Tailfin, smiling as he strolled towards his cabin.

"And your cabin—"

"Thank you, captain," said The Scribe calmly as he began walking. "I know where it is."

*    *    *

After settling in, Tailfin called The Scribe to his cabin for a meal. Arynlock's ship was well stocked with fresh food, always prepared to entertain guests, evidently. Tailfin could relate – a successful businessman, whatever their business, should always be prepared for the unexpected.

The Scribe sat quietly, observing Tailfin, making him ever more uncomfortable.

"Right. How do we being?" asked the crime lord.

"We go back to the beginning," said The Scribe. "In fact, further back. To before it all began. Think about the first crime you ever committed. What happened before that, what drove to you crime?"

Tailfin struggled to recall that day, forty years back. Helen's Bay had been a city in chaos, its citizens stunned, staring out into the empty ocean, their pockets left unguarded.

"The mainland disappeared, along with the city watch," said Tailfin, shrugging nonchalantly. "I saw an opportunity, I took it."

The Scribe began inking his parchment, nodding as he listened.

"And when did you know you were more than a petty criminal; when did you decide to become a crime lord?"

"I always knew," he said. "I never doubted it, never questioned it. Never considered anything else really."

"Never thought about a change of career?"

"I suppose I have considered it over the years," acknowledged Tailfin. "But Helen's Bay needs me. Renryre Island needs me. Without me, the city would fall into chaos. Crime would run amok, uncontrolled. The powerful would be robbed, and the hierarchy of society would fall. Merchants would be put out of business; all trade would fail. Renryre Island would be reduced to an island of savages. I couldn't do that. This island means too much to me."

"And yet you want to retire?"

Tailfin sighed deeply, his disappointment clear.

"I want to retire, yes."

"You were gone a week. Helen's Bay was still there when you returned."

"Yes. I suppose Madrik held things together. He and his girlfriend."

"Madrik? You think Madrik stepped in? No, he was just a face, as was Tally. Arynlock is the one who stepped in."

"Arynlock?" exclaimed Tailfin. "The woman who threw me to the sharks?"

"She knew what she was doing."

"She planned that?"

"She plans a lot of things," said The Scribe, shrugging. "Sets things in motion. Moves the pieces, if you will. If you really want to retire and leave Helen's Bay in good hands, Arynlock is who you should look to."

Tailfin sighed deeply, rubbing his temples.

"Arynlock..." he said. "I sent Madrik and Tally to kill her just this morning."