Dragonfire Sea
Bennett lowered his spyglass at the roar of delight that split the air. He turned away from the distant coast sailing by, looking toward the packed bodies in the middle of the deck. It wasn't the usual frivolity he allowed, but he'd made an exception with the hopes of seeing Cat get a black eye, or perhaps a broken nose. He wasn't sure if her healing magic only worked for others, or if she'd be able to heal herself. But even if it was only temporary, it would certainly be satisfying.
New wagers were placed as shouts echoed around the group.
Cat stood in the middle of a mass of bodies, fists bandaged and raised, facing off against Emmon. They circled, eyes locked. He didn't miss the red blossoming across Emmon's cheekbone. So...she'd managed to land a punch already. Interesting.
Ever since Tortalia, a new dynamic had taken form on board the Lady Faith, and it was ever changing. The crew still wasn't keen on Cat, but word of her healing six of them had circulated. She still clawed and hissed at everyone she encountered, but the crew was less afraid of hissing back.
They'd even taken to quietly approaching her with requests to heal this and that. Yesterday, he'd spotted Reza requesting she heal the rope burns he'd acquired working the sails. As far as he knew, she'd agreed to each request. But no one broadcasted this; none of the crew wanted to admit they'd turned to her. He couldn't help but admit that for all her inconvenience, she'd suddenly become more...convenient. He'd never considered hiring a mage to sail with them, had never heard such a thing done, but...it certainly made him wonder.
The dynamic continued to change with her aboard. Especially when she'd strode right up to Emmon in sight of all, and asked him to teach her how to throw a punch. Things had truly taken a turn for the interesting. She stood now, in a pair of breeches, tunic, and belt she'd acquired on their latest port stop. Her long hair was tied back in a low bun at the base of her neck. She'd deposited the tricorn she'd taken to wearing next to the stairs leading up to the poop.
Another roar rose up from the group as Cat's fist shot out for Emmon's stomach. This time, he dodged, landing a punch of his own to Cat's abdomen. She doubled over, hissing as everyone around them roared and coins were exchanged.
Bennett chuckled.
They continued back and forth like this. He took the stairs two-at-a-time to stand beside Jonah, manning the helm. "Quite the she-cat, eh, Captain?" Bennett hummed in answer, keeping his eyes on the pair, but said nothing. "Least now she'll be able to defend herself better when we stop in Bagradas, assuming...?"
"Yes, we continue on as planned, Jonas."
"Right. As you wish. But...two days?"
He shrugged. "Why not? I haven't had a chance to catch up with Aspen in quite a while. Like to see what she's been up to."
Aspen had been the first true captain he'd known. Most of what he knew he'd picked up from her. Although, he'd thought her a man when he first boarded The Bellona. She certainly looked and acted the part. A necessity when dealing with sailors, he supposed.
Why Aspen had decided to settle in a shit hole like Bagradas was beyond him, but it was there she'd established a bed and breakfast with a tavern on the ground floor. One of the rowdiest taverns in existence. Perhaps it was a good thing Cat was learning to land a good punch.
Speaking of...he couldn't help but chuckle as Cat managed to land another, right into Emmon's jaw. And she didn't stop at that, she stomped hard on his foot, then—
"Ouch! That's not going to go over well," Jonah cut in as Emmon groaned and doubled over, clutching his jewels. The gathered crew roared with delight and more coins were exchanged. Cat drew herself up, hands on her hips, shoulders proudly drawn back. He saw then that her nose was bleeding. A smirk spread across his face, but it slid off almost immediately when her eyes flashed in his direction, latching onto him.
She didn't see Emmon until it was too late. He lunged and they both tumbled to the deck, a mess of fists and kicks. He suspected that cornered like this, the she-cat was using her claws now.
He sighed. "I'll handle the helm. Go break them up. Get them back to work. Land's coming quick."
Jonas gave him a solute and descended to the main deck, roaring at the crew, gaining their attention. He had to cup his hands around his mouth be heard. Those near the middle, closest to the pair rolling around didn't immediately stand at attention. Others had to step in and pry Cat and Emmon apart. But soon enough the fun was over and Jonas was ordering the crew back to their positions.
They'd be landslide in a few hours and he was eager to disembark. Bagradas was another port town set on a pair of islands near the mouth of Stormy Bay. They didn't plan on entering the bay; Bagradas was the farthest in they'd go. He'd heard too many rumors about the dragons controlling Squall's End to get any closer.
He sighed, thinking of the fort leader, Lord Davi, of their meeting together not so long ago. How things had changed. It turned out the Ice Metal hadn't solved all their problems, and that was a damn shame.
A figure climbed the stairs, heading directly for him. He blinked, keeping his attention on the helm, navigating the Lady Faith.
"I take it you insist we stop in Bagradas," Cat tisked, taking up a wide stance beside him. It was hard to believe, but the past week had seen a change in her. Gone was the green girl who wobbled about the deck. With her tricorn in place, she almost...almost passed as a crewman. Except that her curves were far too generous for anyone to miss if they looked for more than a second.
"We would reach Ice Port faster if—"
"Come now, kitty cat, I—"
"I told you not to call me that," she snarled, rounding on him.
He chuckled, keeping his gaze forward. "I'll call you what I want. This's my ship, remember. And I wouldn't miss Bagradas for the world. But you needn't worry. Now that you can throw a punch or two, you'll be fine taking care of yourself. Make sure you carry the knife Jonas gave you. But I wouldn't recommend pulling it on anyone unless it's truly necessary. No one will take kindly to a weapon when fists will do."
"Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"Stopping in the worst ports," she snapped. "Don't play me for a fool, Captain. I've spoken to the crew. They—"
"Have you now? They actually spoke to you? Amazing. Have they truly managed to get over their dislike of you? Perhaps I should ask what their secret—"
"Believe it or not, Captain, I'm quite capable of getting what I want."
"Oh." A laugh rumbled in his chest. "Of that I have no doubt. My order stands. We drop anchor in two hours." Though he kept his face forward, he was keenly aware of the way she crossed her arms and glared at him. "Look, girl, the whole reason we stop in places like this is so the crew can have a spot of fun. I told you this wasn't a passenger vessel. Go enjoy yourself. You need not stay glued to me when we embark. I'm sure you can find ways to entertain—"
"Oh, believe me. I plan to stay plastered," she said through clenched teeth. "I wouldn't dare deprive you of my company."
"Ah. So you are playing along. Fine. I'll be visiting my old captain Aspen while we're here. If you can stand her company, I suppose that's punishment enough."
He spared a glance in time to notice her blink. "Your old captain? Shouldn't someone old enough to be your captain be dead?"
He snorted. "Not sure how old I look to you, girl, but no."
"And how old are you?" she asked. He didn't miss the genuine curiosity in her voice.
"I'd tell you were it any of your business."
"Oh, that's rich. How unsurprising. Shall I take a guess then? Forty-five? Perhaps verging on fifty."
He opened and closed his mouth, then clenched his jaw. She was doing it on purpose—he knew she was. And he shouldn't have fallen for the bait, but—"I'm thirty-seven, kitty cat."
"Ugh! Call me that again. Go on. Say. It. Again."
He turned to her then, fully facing her. "Use so much as a single measure of magic against me and I will throw you off this ship. I don't imagine kitty cats are great swimmers, but I'm willing to test the theory." He took a step towards her and her eyes widened—a reaction he wasn't expecting. It stopped him short. She quickly schooled her features. He wanted so, so badly to take a fistful of the front of her tunic and drag her to the edge of the ship, maybe even dangle her over it to prove he wasn't joking.
Her throat bobbed. She eyed him a final time then turned on her heel and left him fuming on the poop. He returned his attention to the helm, but couldn't help his gaze. It followed her as she made her way across the deck when it should have been tracking their progress.
"Shall I, Captain?" Jonas appeared beside him to take over. "Don't let her get under your skin. That's the trick," his first mate added.
He nodded and stepped aside, clasping his hands behind his back. His eyes didn't leave Cat's figure. "I need a damn drink, Jonas. Sooner rather than later."
***
Unfortunately, it was later by the time he found himself strolling the filthy streets of Bagradas, heading up from the Pits to the Cliffs. Both small districts were aptly named. The Cliffs were considered swanky by the filthiest standards in a place like this. While someone like Cat would be disgusted to know people in these parts considered the Cliffs swanky, it was the most expensive area to live in Bagradas. The view of the port was quite spectacular.
Beaky cawed above him, swooping and bobbing with delight as she surveyed the island town. Those of his crew that were lucky enough to get the first shifts landslide had mostly gone their separate ways. But a small contingent was as eager as he to reach the Crowded Clam. Houses and shops—if they could be called such, given the constant state of disarray most buildings in Bagradas suffered from—lined the streets leading up to the Cliffs.
His progress was followed by exasperated tuts. He didn't bother turning around, but a smile did spread across his lips. Cat had stayed in her new choice of attire. Smart girl. She wasn't keen for more fruit jokes jokes, he supposed. The others following in his wake were the same contingent that often did, sands Jonah and Peter, who'd both drawn short straws. Rules were rules. He was glad he hadn't. Most times he lucked out.
"That's the Crowded Clam?" he heard Cat scoff. "I expected..." He didn't bother to find out what she expected, and didn't care either.
These buildings, like all the others, lined narrow streets and were stacked high. Each level was wider than the one beneath, until the upper levels jutted out over the lower, hanging over the streets and casting them into shadow. The only benefit to the ones on the Cliffs was they occupied one side of the street with nothing on the other, lending to spectacular views.
A weatherd wooden sign hung above the door with an open clam and pearls spilling out of it. There were other inns along this street, but none as tall as Aspen's Crowded Clam. He could hear the roar of noice coming from the open door even in the middle of the day.
"After you, Captain," Emmon said when the others had stopped behind him.
"Yes," Cat said sweetly, voice riddled with sarcasm, "after you."
"Beaky!" he shouted, looking up at the bird. "Find me later, eh?"
"Find later! Find later!" That was all Beaky needed to turn on her wing-tip and take off to do...whatever she often did when they were land side. Probably irritate the local birds and forage in the copse of trees just outside of town.
He shot a grin over his shoulder at Cat then strode through the open door. The sound tripled, the light dimmed, and the stink of old drink and unbathed bodies hit him as soon as he stepped inside. It took a moment for some of the regulars to look up from their drinks, but as soon as he was noticed, several roars and lifted tankards greeted him.
"Bless my boots, we've got scoundrel in our midst!"
He chuckled. Now that was a voice he'd recognize anywhere after years of shouted orders.
"Aspen! Good to see you too!" he called across the crowded tavern. She stood behind the bar, overseeing the bar maids and lads as they served drinks. He strode over, leaving the rest of his contingent behind.
Aspen came out from the bar and hugged him. She'd aged a fair bit since he'd last seen her. The wrinkles and tanned skin he was used to, but her close-cropped hair was entirely white now. She'd always been androgynous, but old age made her sex even harder to discern.
"And who's this? A new crew member? You finally took my advice and brought on a female? Never thought I'd see the day," Aspen said, turning to Cat, who must have followed him. He scowled, annoyed to be sharing Aspen's attention with someone so insignificant.
Despite Cat's having pulled her tricorn low over her forehead, there was still no mistaking her curves or the expression of distaste plastered to her face. "So, you're Aspen," she said, not quite a question.
"I am indeed, girl." Aspen eyed her warily. "Prickly, this one," she said to Bennett. "I like her already."
He snorted. "You'd like her less if she graced your deck. And I'd drown myself before ever letting her serve on my crew."
"Then—"
"We're taking her north," he said at the same time as Cat said, "I'd never be caught dead serving in his crew."
He huffed and opened his mouth again—
"How about a round of drinks—on me." Aspen didn't wait to hear whatever else he'd planned to say, turning to the lad left standing behind the bar. She barked orders and led Bennett to the only unoccupied table in the corner. He knew it well. Aspen kept it empty at all times for her own personal buisness. It was here she entertained favored clientele and cut smuggling deals.
"Tell your lads they can join us, if they please," she said. He motioned to the others with a flick of his head. Emmon urged them forward. There wasn't anywhere else for them to sit anyway. He slid into the booth beside Aspen, none too pleased that Cat made it a point to slide in beside him. He'd have preferred Emmon or Tris.
Not a moment too soon, serving maids bustled over with trays of tankards. He kept his own tied to his belt.
"And some food, too," Aspen added, holding one of the maid's gazes.
"New help?" he asked. "Where's Ferra?"
Aspen snorted. "Don't get me started on her. Ran off with a sailor, like the rest of them."
"Never thought she'd leave, if I'm bein' honest," he said, chuckling. Ferra had always been a favorite. Not quite like Colleen in Kastali Dun, but he'd taken her to bed a few times.
"They always do. Now, you want to tell me why it's been months since you last paid me a visit?" Her scolding tone wasn't lost on him.
He shrugged. "Been busy. Had a couple jobs that needed my attention."
"Like that one?" she asked, flicking her eyes toward Cat.
"Something like that," he grunted, lifting his tankard. "To you, Aspen." The rest of his crew lifted theirs and toasted the Crowded Clam's owner. They'd been politely waiting for him to take the first drink. Aspen nodded but left hers untouched.
He drank deep.
"Where you heading? Not north, I hope."
"Unfortunately for me, that's exactly the way I'm headed." He couldn't help but glance at Cat. She'd not bothered to touch her tankard or even toast, but kept her hands locked around it as if it were a warm cup of tea. She certainly wouldn't find any of that in a place like this.
"How far north," Aspen said, cutting into his thoughts.
He sighed. "Far north as north goes, I'm afraid."
Aspen shook her head. "I'd reconsider, were I you, boy."
He couldn't help his smile. Boy. If only.
"And where's that cheeky bird of yours, anyway?"
"Beaky's off doing what she wants," he said. "And why should I reconsider? Way I heard it, only real trouble is inside the bay here. How's things been in light of Fort Squall? No trouble, I hope?"
"Oh no you don't."
He leaned back, eying Aspen. "You never were one to let a subject drop. Well, if you must know, I tried convincing this one to reconsider,"—he elbowed Cat hard enough that she grunted and turned her eyes like daggers upon him—"but I'm afraid she won't take a lick of advice."
"You should reconsider," Aspen said in answer to his initial question, "because there've been rumors coming my way, and none too good. Word is, Oshean ships, whole fleets of them, been seen docking in Ice Port. Just the other day, I heard of some questionable cargo being loaded a few weeks back."
"Questionable?" He lifted an eyebrow. "That's saying something coming from you."
She laughed. "Questionable, yes. Scores of beasts—unnatural beasts—loaded into cages. Word is, the port doesn't belong to the Dwargs anymore. Not truly."
"Hmm...interesting. Hear that, Cat? Perhaps now you'll reconsider, eh? Doesn't sound like much of a place for a lady."
"I appreciate your advice, captain"—at this she elbowed him back, just as hard— "but I'll take my chances. I have buisness up north and I will see it settled."
"What possible buisness could you have with the Dwargs, eh girl? You ought to take your captain's advice."
"He's not my captain," Cat seethed, finally lifting her tankard and drinking it to the last drop.
Tris's eyes went wide as he watched her. Then he clapped her on the back and roared with delight. "See here! She's not just learning to throw a punch. She's going to be drinking like the rest o' us too! Lady indeed!"
Cat tutted but said nothing more. Bennett eyed her, wondering what kind of business she could possibly have up north. He still hadn't put the pieces together, not for lack of trying. "Heard anything else?" he asked Aspen, hoping to prepare himself for the remainder of their journey as best as he could.
"Plenty," she said. "Wasn't just beasts they loaded up and sailed off with. Some say they've seen a strange, hooded man in the streets. A sorcerer—goes the speculation. Perhaps even the same that was seen with them wild dragons in Squall's end."
Cat sat up straighter. "Did they see him boarding the Oshean vessels, or is he still there?"
"What's it to you, girl?" Aspen asked. Cat shrugged then turned her interest back to her empty tankard.
"Her question is valid, Aspen. I certainly don't want to encounter any sorcerers rumored or otherwise walking the streets while I'm there. I'll feel better knowing whoever it was is off in Oshea at this point." Not that he planned to stay in the freezing north. He'd dump cat on the nearest iceberg and turn right back around. Probably wouldn't even let his crew disembark.
Aspen shrugged. "Hard to say. They's all rumors anyway." Her conversation turned to other gossip as she began telling him everything she'd heard about various old crew members who'd moved on. Some had taken up positions of captain and first mate on their own vessels. She always did have a fair share of gossip.
He politely inquired here and there, keeping her talking. But he couldn't help his wandering thoughts. What would he find in the north? And what, for the love of the gods, was Cat up to?
⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️
Happy Friday Bookdragons!
I always have so much fun writing Bennett's chapters. I think this is the first time I've ever revealed his age? I hope so at least. It's gotten hard to remember so many details 4 books in. Thank goodness I have all of you experts to help keep me straight!
Next week's chapter is from King Talon's POV and is titled "A Poisonous Solution" ...dun dun dun. Sounds kind of ominous. I know you've all been waiting for a Talon chapter :)
I hope you have a great weekend and a great week following.
Until next week,
Mel