Nikov was late—very late. I waited in a warehouse, dripping with the mountain cold and misty with early morning air—a phantom seeping through the cracks in the windows deep into the metal cocoon. Many would call it an untimely hour, yes, but I was not one to leave unfinished business unattended to. Or else, the scum I dealt with would rest on their laurels. They would sit in their fur-lined boots, the aroma of hot coffee wafting about their noses whilst the finest tobacco stained their teeth and filled their homes like a dishonest prayer. They thought I would linger in the quiet, anticipating their call like a servant, expecting me to bend to their will.
The first mistake these men made was to keep me waiting, and to treat me like I was simply just a woman. As if I was beneath them—as if I didn't shift the product they were greedy to get their hands on. As if I wasn't more than familiar with getting my hands dirty.
Silence was disrupted by the irregular footsteps of Nikov Levin. Shifting in the shadows, his reassurances steadied their guns, the distinctive click of their bullets being loaded into place rung true and I stilled my breathing, listening for the various melodies of their faint echoes. This was another mistake, his defence giving themselves away as if they were ignorant to my tenebrous allies. Nikov had brought four men with himself which only meant one thing; he didn't have my money.
A head of blond whispered near my ear, "situation?" I hadn't heard him come near; Charles' existence was soundless when need be, his only give being the faint smell of earth which lived in his skin.
"Unconscious, not dead." Nodding in response, Charles withdrew into the towers of sacks which lined small sections of the warehouse, filled generously with oats and rye, serving as the staple diet for mountain dwellers of Iv Turek. For city merchants like Nikov, such grains were beneath them.
Lifting my face to the little sunlight which had battled its way through the frozen glass, I stroked Razine twice between her eyes. She slithered off my shoulders and hissed at the chill when her scaled body touched the ground. Gliding across the warehouse, her movements quickened into a dark flash. For a moment silence tried to slip back into place, but an ear-splitting scream and the snapping of bones took hold.
"Nadine," called Nikov with a desperate edge to his voice, "come out where I can see you."
I navigated through the walls of grain, nudging one of Nikov's crumpled men with my boot for good measure. Charles was a fast worker, it made him a valuable asset where time was adverse. Continuing through the columns of sacks, I spotted the crooked merchant. He was clutching a pistol as though his very life depended on it and beads of perspiration sat heavy on his brow, catching the sparse light. I emerged behind the man, kicked him down onto his knees and pulled the pistol from his grasp. His body was rigid with alarm as I grabbed a fistful of his hair.
"Trav, Ilya!" he barked as he struggled against my grip. A bullet rubbed past my arm and I pulled his hair tighter, feeling the skin lift from his scalp. "Misha, Feliks, do something!"
Another bullet bounced off the roof and a long groan washed over the metal clanging from above. "They're not coming to help you," I thrust his head towards the ground and he caught himself with his palms. Rolling off his body in waves, the sweet musk of Seijani tobacco exploded in the dimness of the warehouse from his sudden movement. He had always been a loyal customer and I needed to know what changed. "Get up."
Scrambling to his feet, Nikov's fingers twitched as they wiped his brow. His eyes darted around the warehouse, "what did you do?" Fingers inching towards his belt, he released a final cry for help, "Tezerik!" With a quivering lip and an unsteady hand, Nikov looked a disgrace as he finally gained the courage to uncover a second pistol and aim it at my face. He was anxious that morning, it made him foolish.
I tutted, watching another drop of sweat roll down the side of his face. I almost couldn't feel my toes, yet he was dripping as though the summer sun was beating down his neck. "I'm only going to ask you once Nikov, so think carefully," I spoke with a level voice. "Who threatened you into this?"
I made no move for his gun. Fear shone in his eyes-he didn't have the heart to shoot. Fate had a strange way of dealing with men like Nikov. It was situations like this which either broke them into little boys or set them free from the boundaries of desire they had constructed for themselves. Fortunately for me, Nikov was as predictable as he was spineless.
His eyes flickered past my shoulder and dimmed with defeat. "Caught this one outside, I'm guessing he's Tezerik," said Joa in his deep rumble, nudging a bloodied figure with his gun. "On your knees," he instructed, and the man grudgingly fell into kneel.
"So, this is your son," I said, grabbing Tezerik's chin so he was forced to look at me. He had the build of a man and although his eyes gave away his youth they held steely challenge. His face was showing early signs of heavy bruising and I let go of his chin, wiping the blood of his broken nose on my sleeve. I focused my gaze on Nikov, aware of Charles who had joined our small gathering. "Do you have an answer for me?"
His eyes dropped to his son who was staring down Joa. "My boy has nothing to do with this."
"I'm losing my patience here," but in reality I was bored of the situation. Nokiv was probably the least-threatening man anyone could send after me, and the way Tezerik leaned away from the hand his father tried to rest on his shoulder, only added to Nikov's shame. I almost felt pity for the leech.
"My son—"
"Tell them, or I will," spat Tezerik.
Nikov looked as though he had been stabbed in the gut and then given the same blade as a peace offering. "Very well," he shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
With quick fingers, Charles reached for his gun and I sensed the unwanted presence too. I whipped my head around, narrowly missing an arrow which lodged itself in Nikov's chest. Tezerik was on his feet and managed to dodge an arrow which was destined for him. The assassin leapt out from behind a tower of sacks and I didn't have to give the instruction, Charles was racing towards the figure retreating through the open end of the warehouse. I turned to the boy and I saw he was making no attempt to escape. Nikov writhed in pain on the ground, Tezerik crouched beside him, readying himself to pull the arrow from his body.
"He's going to die either way." The arrow had done its duty well.
The boy shot me a glance, "I know what I'm doing." Tezerik watched the colour slowly drain from his father's face. He balanced his weight on his knees in the pool of blood beside Nikov who was struggling to breathe, one hand scratching at his chest, another digging into his son's arm.
Eyeing the dying merchant, I addressed Joa, "bring them outside once he's done." I noticed Joa's split lip and the gash on his thigh, "and for the love of all things holy, don't do anything stupid."
Making my way out of the warehouse, my senses were alert for any other unwanted guests. Once I was outside, I felt full force of the mountain wind and made note of the footprints in the ground frost and faint trail of blood racing down the steep of the slope. I could still hear Nikov's groans, but they were weakening. Razine emerged from behind and coiled around my body until she was loosely wrapped around my shoulders like a shield from the icy air. I took a few moments to watch out onto the port-side city of Ozrinisk in the near distance, lazy fingers of the sun reached out to the streams of smoke rising from its buildings. Razine's tail gently swayed against my back and I relished the quiet because, my gut knew only chaos would follow.
—
Back on the Basilisk, some of the crew were loitering around the mainmast, indulging in a breakfast of syrniki whilst they jested over sips of bitter tea. Alp and Kaptan were wrestling on the upper deck, whilst their sister Dide watched, sharpening her knives. She turned her head and gave a two-fingered salute, eyes falling onto the tall, bloody stranger in tow, raising an eyebrow in question. Tezerik must have took notice of Dide too because a grunt sounded from his lips and Joa pushed him ahead below deck.
Entering my cabin, I stood behind the great wooded desk and shifted the open map to a side. "Joa, leave me and the boy alone." The drooping of his lips showed he wasn't overjoyed with my decision but left without a quibble. Once the door was shut, I spoke, "let us hope you speak before you get killed, too."
If Tezerik was offended by my words, he did well to hide it. His nose had stopped dripping but as soon as he opened his lips the fresh wounds on his face cracked open and started to spill. "Nikov was bribed into the whole thing. His greed got the better of him," he paused, dark eyes dropped to his tied fists.
"I don't need you alive to tell me that. Who paid him?"
He clenched his jaw, "I have terms."
"You're in no position to barter. The odds say I know exactly what's going to come out of your mouth." I raised my chin, "you want a place in my crew." Tezerik almost spluttered on the air. He had shown no resistance during our short journey from the mountains and this cooperation was not unintended. He regained his composure and I could hear muttering outside the door. "Now, Tezerik, this is what I want to know," I had walked around the table and we were standing face to face, "why the disdain for your father?"
"I'm not Nikov's blood," he rasped, the sound of loose gravel against hard soles.
Bursting open, Joa fell into the room and a smug Charles stood in the shadow of the doorway. "You've just cost me fifty dogan," complained Joa.
"You're both to pay me double that for eavesdropping," the smile vanished from Charles' face. "But now that you're here, you can stay, it won't make a slight difference," I accused, cutting the rope at Tezerik's wrists; the boy was not a threat. I beckoned him to reveal who was behind the morning's events with a quick flick of my wrist.
He flexed his fingers and the rest of his steeliness returned. "A man called Deveraux—"
Joa whopped, "—pay up." He held out his palm towards Charles who pulled out a thick stack of mezniti and slapped it into his hand. He flicked through the stack, "a weaker currency but it'll do."
"See, we have no need for you," I said to Tezerik, "Charles, take him away."
"Wait—" Tezerik took a step towards me, "—please..."
"You want to be part of my crew, after you attacked one of my men during an attempt on my own life?" I tilted my head to left, Charles and Joa stood to the boy's sides. "Keeping you alive was a mercy on my part."
"Then let your mercy serve you."
I took the opportunity to scrutinise him. He was strong, both in will and form; there was a fervent quality to him and through tribulation we would discover how strong its weld was. I looked at Joa's injuries marking his brown skin; Tezerik had to be skilled to even lay a hand on him. I thought over my decision, my instincts told me he was earnest. "You have the day to prove yourself. Joa will see what you're capable of, but if I get a whiff of any second agenda I'll have your head bundled to your sister, Amalia." His jaw clenched but he nodded once in understanding.
After Nikov was late on payment, I knew something was wrong, so took the liberty in finding out everything I could regarding said merchant. Tradesmen of Iv Turek liked to flaunt their fortune in coffeehouses over a game of cards, boasting of their feats. When I showed with my gifts of Seijani tobacco, their tongues ran wild on mention of Veriian noble blood who had stopped upon Ozrinisk's shore.
Once Joa and Tezerik had been dismissed, Charles updated me on the situation of the assassin at the warehouse. "I didn't manage to catch him," he shook his head in frustration, "but I got a shot at his leg."
I spared a glimpse to my watch, "he'll be back, it's just a matter of when."
I spent the rest of the morning going through the books with Tore and allocating the remainder of the tobacco stock for separate buyers in Sen Vera. We had taken a hit on the way to Iv Turek from Yanlu, raided by a band of pirates who managed to steal fifty of drums of tobacco leaves and a further twenty of sugar from the transportation vessel. These were prized commodities-control the sugar trade and you controlled half the world; control tobacco, and you would have succeeded in being seated at the head of the largest monopoly in play. Whatever piece pirates could claim they'd take, it was pure profit on their part.
We tailed the goods as was the norm, however on the day of the raid a thick shroud of sea fog hindered our vision, so we kept a distance of safety. Through the low visibility, the warning cries from my crew aboard the Ophidian cleared the way. "Afvit on'dyo!" We're under attack.
Aboard the Basilisk, Kaptan rang the bell and disappeared below the surface of the ship, emerging moments later with a storm of men. There were cheers from Joa as he went around, patting the backs of crew as eager for pirate blood. I called the order for sails to be trimmed and the anticipation connected us by our spines-we were a serpentine creature ready to spit our poison. Through the fog, I could see the crew, ready to jump from deck to deck, knees bent, minds focused with fingers grasping their weapons-with the exception of Gio who was manning the rudder.
I held my arm out as the triple-masted Ophidian started to become more than just a shadow. There was a moment of stillness. Within the chaos sounding from the nearing ships, I felt push of the waves beneath Basilisk, the clattering of used cartridges vibrated against my teeth and the heaviness of the mist spilled over my skin. I tasted the salt on my lips and I sliced my arm through the air—the serpent hissed and was ready to bite. My crew leaped over the sea-lined cavity between both my ships. Joa made the landing first of course, revolvers firing away with his very next breath. He was the type of man who could never step away from a fight.
Slashes of blades and firing of guns continued in cycles until the pirates had their fill and tried to get away with the drums loaded onto their own ship before our arrival. Masumi, a daughter of Yanlu anarchists, launched firebombs at the pirate ship once bullets became sparse, her pastime proving useful. "That's every smoker's dream," Joa had commented once a drum of tobacco had caught fire, and soon the rest of their ship was licked by the flames.
Whilst the crew offloaded dead and injured pirate bodies from the Ophidian into the Yuluan Sea, I saw a piece of lacquered metal escape from the weak grasp of the pirate's fallen captain. It landed in a pile of spilled sugar; its black form was a stark difference to its white surroundings, an insignia crafted into the shape of a wolf, jaws wide as it chased its own tail. What game is he playing this time, I thought. I pocketed the symbol and was conscious of its weight since.
Tore huffed, his voice tinged with a Veriian accent, "the leeches won't be happy about this but we're going to have to charge seventeen percent on each drum."
"Such is the nature of business."
"I don't like it."
"It's better for them to take the hit equally than to single out a few."
"I still don't like it, Captain." Tore looked miserable as he buried his face within the leather-bound pages of the stock-keeping book. "They'll never cough up the coin—they'll find another supplier, they'll—"
I pulled the book from his grasp and went over the numbers as well as the buyers lined up. Two names jumped from the page, Tore had them underlined, written side by side. I slapped the book closed and slid it across to him. "Never mind seventeen percent, we're getting more. We shall sell through word of a tender, more or less."
Tore dropped his head in his palms. "Chaos," he muttered, "complete chaos." But even then he couldn't hide the brightness of his smile. He was a graduate from the university of Oma and was characteristically emotional and flamboyant like most residents of the city.
Merchants were slaves to their pride. The scare of a tender would mean that members outside of the trade council would have the right to put forward bids on my stock. It would create a frenzy in the financial district and would declare whose pockets were the heaviest, illustrating exactly who I was up against. For my crew, it would mean flipping a loss into bounty. As for leeches, they would never overlook a chance to dominate a bidding war-another opportunity to cement their social standings. However, merchants were powerful figures in Sen Vera, particularly in the city of Oma. A bidding war was a dangerous idea, but nothing great ever came from playing a children's game.
—
a/n welcome to the new Hearts of Crows!
This was a pretty long chapter by my standards, so some errors may have slipped through but nevertheless I hope you enjoyed it!
I would love to hear your feedback on anything in this chapter xo