The Traitress of Nessanti

The Traitress of Nessanti

Bromm IV

Emerald jungle met sapphire sea upon beaches of gold. Between two long, thin arms of jungle lay a shallow bay. Its waters were often plied by small fishing boats and sometimes the sleek, black, galleys of the Amazons. On this day, however, the boats had fled from the approach of a squadron of pirates. At the head of the squadron was the polacca Quickblade¸ a fast warship of twenty-four guns. Her captain stood at the helm, but at her prow was a young sailor, recently turned pirate. He was tall and broad-chested, with a wiry black beard growing about his chin. He crowded into the forecastle with four companions, looking out into the open bay.

"Captain wants to go ashore right away," Imre, a lanky sailor in a red headscarf, said. He held the group's spyglass to his eye and scanned the shoreline, perhaps a mile off. "They've seen us for sure."

"They'll be raising the alarm," Tahavi said. The short, olive-skinned man kept a hand on the pistol thrust through his checkered green waistband. He pointed to a bare hilltop beyond the shoreline. "Five coppers says they've got a signal fire up there. Once they've lit it, every galley within twenty miles will be coming down on us."

"We can take them," Bromm replied confidently. His hand went to his own weapon, an ivory-hilted saber with two rubies in the hilt. "We've got three warships, sixty cannons, and four hundred men."

"Plus the captain," Imre added. They all looked to the helm, where Captain Gonnsar stood. He cut quite the figure, standing bare-chested and wearing only bright green silk trousers, a bandolier, and a pair of elephant-skin boots. His face was famously ugly, with a lumpy bald head and a craggy brow overhanging his beady eyes. He was barrel-chested, nearly six and a half feet tall, and broad-shouldered, with a reputation to strike fear in any ship or town from one shore of the Sea to the other.

"I expected more out of him, to tell the truth," the fourth member of their group said. Sahat was the oldest of them. Nearing thirty, he wore a shirt of white cotton underneath a black vest and kept his shaven head shaded under a broad-brimmed black hat. In expectation of imminent action, Sahat carried his two daggers and a long curved shamshir, along with a pistol he had taken from the armory. He adjusted his hat as he lowered his voice. "Ever since Buccaneer's Bay, these men have been telling me that he's the most fearsome pirate on the seas today. But now we're just sailing into the bay. No tricks, no scouts, nothing."

"We've got enough cannons, we don't need scouts," Tahavi said, puffing up his chest.

"It's that woman of his," Imre opined, "her hatred has got the better of him."

"She must have inside knowledge of this place," Bromm suggested. "If she knows where the vulnerable targets are, we wouldn't need to waste time scouting."

"She's been away how long?" Sahat inquired, "Two years? Three? Who knows how much has changed since then?" He shook his head. "I don't like it."

"It should be easy," Bromm cheered. "We'll go in, loot the town and be out again before they can gather enough ships to stop us. In no time at all, we'll be back in Buccaneer's Bay, drinking the house wines!"

"Guldrin says it's on to Sostrum after this," Imre interjected, "He says the captain says the rich men of the Empire want Amazon slaves."

"Sostrum is a long sail," Bromm groused.

"It's as I said," Imre replied, "That woman wants to see Sostrum, so the Captain says we go to Sostrum."

"That woman's revenge is going to get us all killed," Sahat grumbled.

The woman in question emerged from the captain's cabin. She was tall and powerfully muscled, her long black hair done up in braids that knotted behind her head. She wore a cuirass of bronze, sculpted like a woman's bare chest, over a tunic and soldier's cingulum. Tall black boots climbed her legs to the knees, while a silvered steel sword hung from her belt. She climbed the steps to the helm and stood at Gonnsar's side. They exchanged words, with her pointing to the shoreline and he consulting a notebook.

Gonnsar nodded and closed the book. He summoned his first mate, Uldrong, and the grumpy dwarf went stomping up to them at the helm.

"Hey, lads," said the young sailor Pyet, swinging down from the ratlines to join Bromm and the others, "When are we going ashore?" He smiled eagerly as he set foot on the deck again, settling his faded blue vest around his shoulders.

"Shouldn't be long," Tahavi replied. "Captain and the Amazon are making plans." He gestured to the helm.

"Sahat's grumbling again," Imre said, and Pyet laughed.

"Sahat is always grumbling. Cheer up, old man. We'll be ashore soon and swimming in Amazonian rubies."

"What can you see from the crow's nest?" Bromm asked.

"The whole bay. There's a narrow inlet on the far side, that must be where the town is because I don't see it anywhere else. There's plenty of little villages along the shore, though."

"Can you see the ruby mines?" Tahavi asked eagerly. Pyet shrugged.

"They must be in the hills. That's where mines usually are. But I can't see anything that looks like a mine. The fields are cut through the jungle here and there, but I can't tell what they grow."

"Cassava, cotton, and coffee," Sahat replied. "That's what our crew would buy whenever I came here as a sailor."

"I didn't come here for the crops," Bromm said, "I want to know where they keep their rubies."

"Guldrin says Tissarna says the town will have plenty in the matriarch's vaults," said Imre. "We'll blast our way into town and plunder the richest houses first."

"Amazons have cannons, too," Sahat objected.

"Tissarna has thought of that," Imre replied, "She knows their defenses. She'll find a way in for us."

"Looks like she has," Pyet said, indicating Tissarna and Gonnsar at the helm. They had stowed their charts and spyglasses, while Uldrong was leaning over the rail with a bullhorn in his hand.

"Listen up, sea rats!" Uldrong barked from the rail. "Gather round and shut your faces, the captain's got something to tell ya!" Bromm and his companions hurried to obey their first mate. The dwarf motioned to gather everyone in front of the helm, waving his arms as if he was scooping them altogether in a heap. When they were satisfactorily present and quiet, he turned to Gonnsar.

"All yours, captain," said the dwarf.

"Alright," Gonnsar replied as he stepped forward to lean on the rail. "We're coming up on the town of Nessanti, and we're not going to be stopping for a view. We're going in hard and fast, before they can muster a defense."

His Amazonian lover stepped up beside him, a heavy, forward curving sword in her hand. Bromm noticed that her cuirass was even decorated with nipples and a navel. She pointed her sword at the hilltop that Tahavi had been observing earlier.

"Their smoke signal is late," she declared in her foreign, liquid accent. "The warriors are still unaware of our approach."

"They are experienced at defeating raids," Gonnsar continued, "so they will respond quickly. We must be quick about this. Now, when we are in sight of the harbor, we will turn the squadron broadside and drop anchor to get our guns in position.

"Quickblade and Furious will bombard their bastion to keep them busy. Meanwhile, those not on the guns will load into the longboats and row to the base of the wall. Tissarna will lead them, for she knows where to land. Once she is ashore, the ships will cease firing and the landing party will scale the walls with ropes and grapnels. This will be close work, so bring any armor and pistols that you can. These Amazons are bold warriors, so the fight will not be easy. But you are pirates, the most fearsome on the seas! Put your war faces on and cry havoc like you are Tarnilaen Himself! They will not withstand our assault for long.

"Once we've taken the bastion, turn their guns on anyone in town who still holds out. Tissarna will lead a group to assault the town square. In the event of an attack, they will muster the militia at the square, so it must be taken quickly. Once it is, they will have nowhere to rally, and the town will be ours."

"And then the looting can begin," Tissarna said, and the crew broke into cheers.

"Quick, brave, and bloody," Gonnsar reminded them. "Everyone stick together, stay to the plan, and we'll be at sea again before nightfall, richer and fatter and drunker than when we left port."

"Go and make ready," Tissarna told them, and the crew began to disperse. Uldrong turned to the stern of the ship and, leaning over the aft rail, began shouting commands through the bullhorn at the ships behind them, relaying the plan Gonnsar had just outlined to his own crew.

Trailing a hundred yards behind them was the brig Furious, commanded by Gonnsar's lieutenant Japhet. She was an old vessel of eighteen guns, but still quick on the helm. Behind her was the sloop Silly Lad¸ captained by the pirate Yagin. Yagin was a freesailing captain who had signed on with Gonnsar in Buccaneer's Bay. He and his crew had signed out for plunder alone and cared nothing for the success of survival of Gonnsar's crew if it did not impact their own fortunes. For this reason, Gonnsar left them out of most of his planning.

Finally, the rear of the squadron was brought up by the lumbering fluyt Scarlet Sturgeon. Captained by Gonnsar's lieutenant Lyekk, it had been bought in Buccaneer's Bay to hold their plundered cargo. In particular, Gonnsar had had it fitted to transport the slaves he expected to take in his raids.

Bromm and his companions armed themselves from the armory. Bromm took a pistol and a matchlock musket, while Tahavi fitted himself with a second pistol and an iron cuirass. Imre and Pyet each took a boarding axe and a matchlock musket. Once armed, they went up on deck as Quickblade drew into sight of the town of Nessanti.

A five-sided stone bastion jutted out into the harbor, blocking their direct approach to the piers with the threat of cannonfire. Its walls were sloped to deflect shot, but the stonework was rough and Bromm spied several footholds that would make climbing easier. Through Tahavi's spyglass, Bromm could see the garrison scrambling to the parapet. The black tips of cannons protruded from the stonework.

But Gonnsar's squadron was approaching fast. The Amazons would have little time to muster a defense.

"Steel yourselves," Tahavi said, as much to himself as the others. "It'll be a hard fight, but we'll carry each other through."

Imre clapped him on the back and smiled. "Just think of the rewards. Rubies, Amazonian blackwood, strong wine, and silver bullion."

"And women," said Guldrin, butting into their group. The old sea rat was smiling his toothless smile as he clutched a flintlock musket in his hands. "We'll have the women of the town at our mercy, ready to make our dreams come true."

"You want to ravish an Amazon?" Sahat asked skeptically, "That is, as they say, your funeral."

"An Amazon is like any other woman once she's naked and bound," the sea rat replied."

"Look at Tissarna," Bromm retorted, and the old man licked his lips, "even in ropes, she could crush your head between her legs."

"She is something to look at," Guldrin said, his gaze going to the Amazon's back as she conferred with Gonnsar and Uldrong.

"Why is she armored?" Imre asked quietly, "I had heard Amazons fought naked."

"I was looking forward to that," Bromm agreed.

"Ah, you little whelps have not fought Amazons before, have you?" Guldrin said with a laugh. "Their rich women fight armored, just like rich men everywhere. The poor sometimes fight naked, but then there's the Stormsisters. They are devotees of Arvoran, or Torthun, as they call him, and do not fear death in battle. They fight almost completely naked, wearing only feathered cloaks and war paint. Few can stand against them."

"Are there Stormsisters in Nessanti?" Pyet asked, worry suddenly evident on his young face.

"Who knows?" Guldrin shrugged. "Tissarna said there are none, but she has been in exile for years. You might get your wish to see some naked Amazons up close, lad."

"We're coming into range!" Gonnsar shouted from the quarterdeck. "Look lively, men, and watch out for incoming shot!"

"Brace for a hard turn!" shouted Kharam the bosun, and Bromm grabbed onto the ratlines. The ship lurched underneath them, heeling severely to port as the gunports opened and Quickblade turned her broadside toward the Amazon guns. The deck shook under a roar of cannon fire and smoke filled the air. His ears ringing from the guns, Bromm looked about. With the guns firing alee, the bosun and his crew were lowering longboats into the water on the ship's windward side. Beyond them, Bromm could see the Furious and Silly Lad following Quickblade's lead. The Sturgeon meanwhile had dropped anchor three hundred yards back.

Quickblade's guns thundered a second time, soon followed by the guns of the other ships. Bromm could still see the bastion through the billowing gunsmoke. None of its guns had replied in kind, and some of the pennants on the parapet had been shot away. Crewmen were clambering over the side of the polacca into longboats, and Bromm soon was drawn that way by the press of the crowd.

Gonnsar and Tissarna each led a crew of picked sailors into a longboat and pushed off into open water. Gonnsar stood up in his boat, gathering the others to him as they launched. Furious and Silly Lad launched their own boats, which sheltered themselves behind their ships to avoid cannonfire and giving away their numbers. Bromm could see that Tissarna held a furled banner in her hands, while Gonnsar carried a large battle-axe and musket in his. Other crewmen loaded the boats with grenades, grapnels, rope, and lots of bandages. Bromm gulped at the sight of the last.

Reaching Kharam's side as the crowd thinned down to its last crewmen, Bromm found himself clapped on the shoulder by the burly orc and hastily ushered down the hull into a longboat. Pyet, Imre, Tahavi, and Sahat joined him as well. Guldrin stood up in the boat, and thrust an oar into Bromm's hands with a smile. Bromm and his companions settled into the boat, oars in hand and weapons by their feet. At last, Kharam descended into the longboat.

Their little flotilla of boats pushed off of Quickblade and drifted out into open water. From the deck, a horn sounded and Furious's boats joined them. Rowing hard, they raced toward the base of the bastion. Bromm and his fellow oarsmen faced to the rear of their boat, watching the Quickblade grow smaller behind them as they rowed toward an enemy they could not see. From the boat's prow, Kharam acted as coxswain.

There was a blast of thunder and smoke, followed by a great gout of water as a cannonball struck near the boat. The Amazons had at last readied their cannons. Bromm looked over his shoulder in the direction of the fire. The bastion still seemed so far away, and here they were on the open water, just waiting until the Amazons found the correct range. Another shot struck close by, showering the boat with water.

"That will put the fear in you!" Guldrin cheered from his oar. "Come on, lads! Let's get up there are start giving some back!"

Another cannonball struck near one of Furious's boats, and the boat began to falter. Panicky men rowed as fast as they could, destroying the rowers' rhythm and causing the boat to waver in its course. The coxswain shouted commands and fought to steady his men to a regular pace. All the boats rowed as hard as they could, though Kharam and the other coxswains fought to maintain cohesion. Some boats fell behind the pack while others shot ahead and Kharam had to call them back.

"Stay with the pack!" he roared with an orcish snarl, standing up in the prow, "If you get there ahead of us, they'll cut you to pieces!" Turning his attention to the stragglers, he shouted "Come on, row! At that pace, there won't be any loot left for you lazy dogs!"

Another barrage of cannonfire struck among the boats, and one tore right through one of Silly Lad's boats. Three men were instantly killed by the shot and the rest soon found their boat sinking fast. Bromm's heart beat faster in his chest and he looked to his left, where Pyet was staring at the doomed boat, his face white as a sail.

"That's it, Pyet," Bromm said, his chest heaving with each stroke of the oars, "keep rowing. Just keep rowing, we'll be there soon."

Pyet heard him and looked down at the oars, realizing that he was still rowing. He turned back to Bromm with a smile, the color returning to his scruffy face.

"Rubies," he said. "I'm thinking of Amazonian rubies." Bromm nodded in reply and smiled. He was thinking of a strong drink.

"Almost there, we're under their guns now!" Kharam yelled, and a fresh blast of cannonfire rang loud in Bromm's ears. He could see the gunsmoke growing thicker in the air around him. The cannonballs flew past over his head and killed an unfortunate coxswain in one of Quickblade's boats.

"Who was that?" Imre asked. "Was it Maurias?"

"It didn't look like him," Sahat yelled as he pulled hard at the oars, "I thought I saw Arik's hat."

"Damn," Imre replied. "I liked Arik."

"Brace for landing!" Kharam yelled. "Ship your oars!" The crew slid their oars aboard the boat and stowed them as the boat coasted the last yards to the base of the wall. A few feet of sandy ground lay between the surf and the stonework. Bromm disembarked and wedged the boat into the wet sand as the others retrieved the rope and grapnels. Far behind them, the guns of their little squadron fell silent.

On the narrow beach beside them, a boat coxed by Boyas beached itself as well and the pirates scrambled out to begin their climb. With no projecting bastions, the Amazons were forced to shoot down on them from above. Kharam grabbed a handful of men with muskets, though Bromm left his in the boat.

"Watch the walls!" he commanded. "Any Amazons look down on us, shoot them. Imre, give me the grappling hook."

Imre did as he was told and Kharam, with all his orcish strength and great height, hurled the hook up the walls where it landed with a satisfying clack. Pull it taut, he shouted to the others that it was ready. Boyas' man Maurias had readied another hook and begun to climb. Bromm, not to be outdone, drew his saber and grabbed hold of the rope.

"We're right behind you," Imre told him as he began to climb. Above them, the bastion's guns thundered again. Hand over hand, Bromm made his way up the sloping stone wall. In places he could see where cannonballs had struck and left dents or cracks, which made useful footholds for him. Kharam's shooters on the beach kept the Amazons back, though a man on Boyas' rope was felled by an arrow fletched in the brilliant plumage of some jungle bird. His fall knocked two more men off the rope, but other ropes along the beach kept a steady stream of pirates flowing up the wall.

Bromm reached the parapet and leapt over, saber in hand. The parapet was manned by a scant few warriors. Five gun crews and a handful of archers and musketeers topped the walls, though other warriors ran about madly in the courtyard below. The cannons thundered again and from out in the harbor came the cries of a boat's crew. Bromm rushed toward the nearest cannon as Imre and Pyet came over the parapet behind him.

The Amazons had their cannon nearly readied to fire, and vacillated as Bromm charged, unsure whether to fire or confront their attackers. They waited too long, and Bromm was upon them. The first he slew before she could draw her sword, and then he clashed blades with another who had barely drawn her own. Imre shot down another with his musket and set to reloading. The Amazon entangled with Bromm grabbed his hand and pulled him close, leaving him off balance. One of her companions raised her sword to strike off Bromm's outstretched arm, but diverted into a parry as Kharam came thundering down on her. The big orc nearly bowled her over, but the warrior woman stayed on her feet. Her blade rang against Kharam's and the two of them traded parries over the loaded cannon.