Rogues Gallery (16 page)

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Authors: Will Molinar

Tags: #Comics & Graphic Novels, #Graphic Novels, #Fantasy, #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: Rogues Gallery
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Lawson scrunched his face up. “Huh? Since when? Maybe we ain’t as privy to information down at the Southern Docks as you all, but what did I miss?”

“Yes,” Becket said. “I thought the process was months away at the most generous estimations.”

“It’s done,” Muldor said. “It’s taken the better part of this past year, but the work we have put forth has been worth it, for we now have a full seven ships to use against our enemy and bring the pirate Lurenz to justice, either in a watery grave in the high seas or here to the hangman’s noose. Our fleet is ready for deployment and can be underway within the week.”

Silence followed. Muldor watched each of them for reactions. He got deeper confusion from Lawson, typical; guarded interest from Becket, good news; and veiled skepticism from Crocker, also typical and expected. Becket was the first to speak, befitting his position as the de facto superior among them.

“I didn’t think that was possible. How did you do it?”

“Come, gentlemen,” Muldor said and rose. “I will show you.”

 

 

Chapter Six

By the time they reached the shipping yards, the sun had set. Lucky for the string of high ranking Guild representatives walking along the water, three Dock Masters and the Guild Master himself among them, there was sufficient infrastructure built into the surrounding area.

There were several large logs pushed length-wise into the ground all along the space surrounding the inlet. From these gigantic poles, they strung a line of hanging lanterns, some twenty feet off the ground or higher in places, along with several sconces with removable torches.

It was all quite elegant, which surprised Dock Master Becket. He didn’t think ship builders had such an artistic sensibility. Of course, they did build things much like a sculptor did when creating a work of art. But then again, the flowing lights and nature of their beauty were either a happy accident or lost on most people.

Jerome would not have approved of their lack of awareness. When he thought of the man, he felt a tinge of both regret and guilt. He worried the harrowing experience of the other night had soured him towards Becket.

Becket didn’t blame him if Jerome was scared away. The experience had shaken up all four of them. Becket’s staff was still nervous every time they heard a noise from outside. They had waited for hours before some security men had come in told them all was clear.

Theirs wasn’t the only household affected. Several other compounds had been struck by drunken thieves, and it had taken most of the night to roust them out of the neighborhood. Because of the nature of their ownership, the city police were not called. In fact, because Becket and all the others did not own their homes and only leased them from a foreign investor, only the private security was allowed to function in a professional capacity.

Becket had never given the strange bylaw a second thought before the other night, but now it twisted his gut. They needed better protection. And so did his home. The place was ransacked, with a lot of missing items and broken artwork scattered around. His hidden cache of gold, placed in a vault in his cellar, was unharmed, thank the gods, but he had lost a great deal of other things.

The boisterous activities around him were almost overwhelming as Muldor led them on a tour of the shipping yards. The northern end of the Western Docks was not far from the western most edge of the yards, where the inlet swept in to the east from the sea.

They strolled up the long edge of the water, where wooden fences kept people back from the depths wherever there wasn’t a dock. Soon their group stood on a wooden bridge that spanned the length of the inlet, perhaps a hundred paces long. Becket wasn’t sure how they even got there; one moment they were walking, the next they had reached the destination Muldor had planned for them to have a view of the work being done. The vista to the east took his breath away.

There were seven total battle ships arrayed for war. Becket couldn’t finish counting the number of canon lined up on each bow, and that was only what could’ve been seen from this side. Muldor’s accomplishment was staggering considering the amount of time spent. The ships hovered there, exerting their power, bobbing up and down like gigantic fishing lures, huge and threatening.

Becket could see three full galleons, large ships with four decks on one, three each on the other two. He assumed the four deck monster was the flagship. There were also two frigates, medium sized vessels, and two schooners, which might’ve been supply ships. Men and women dashed about finishing up last minute work and running supplies.

The sound of hammers striking nails and people shouting reached them from their perch on the bridge overlooking the inlet’s inner sway. Becket put his hands on the rail and shook his head. He tried to count the number of guns on the largest ship.

“That is our flagship,” Muldor said beside him as if reading his mind. “
The Vigilant
. It has eighty four guns and a crew of four hundred. It shall lead the armada and crush Lurenz into dust.”

Lawson whistled. “Unbelievable. You’ve done it, Muldor. I was wrong about you. Great job.”

The young man eyed Muldor with obvious awe and respect. It was well earned, in Becket’s opinion. Muldor ignored the complement and continued.

“In total, some seventeen hundred men have volunteered to fill this fleet with their courage and resolve. They set sail within the week.”

“A week? They’ll be ready by then, huh?”

“Perhaps ten days. The details are yet to be finalized with the individual captains. But understand I am looking for a Guild representative to sail with them. This is important.”

The last statement seemed to hang in the air for a moment as they all glanced back to the scene.

‘We all want to say something,’ Becket thought. ‘But we’re too stunned to make the first move.’

Crocker broke the stalemate. “I admit this is impressive, Guild Master. But I am disturbed we did not hear more about this before now. Why the secrecy? Hmm?” He crossed his arms and stared at Muldor, and Becket could almost hear his foot tapping under the edge of his robe.

Becket hid his frown but wondered why the old man had to act this way. But then he checked himself and wondered what it was that he and Lawson had done before in his office. The idea of having Muldor followed.

Becket cleared his throat. “We’ve all been busy. It’s easy to get caught up in one’s own affairs and not see what’s going on outside of that tract.” He looked at Muldor while Crocker harrumphed and frowned. “I think Muldor has done a fantastic job here. I was wrong about your motivations as well, Guild Master. And I apologize. I’d like to see more of this fleet,
our
fleet if you’ll be so inclined.”

Never in ten years of knowing him had Becket ever seen the taciturn man-smile, but he thought he saw the glimmer of one working on Muldor’s lips. But then the moment was gone, and he was all business.

“Come, my Dock Masters. I will show you the full scope of our accomplishment.”

Bold words, but from what Becket had seen thus far, it was easy to believe almost anything Muldor claimed. It was beyond Becket’s expectations that a simple merchants’ guild could build and control something like this.

They walked down the bridge and along a dirt path, hugging the edge of the water line, and soon they came to a smaller version of their dock system. Three piers lay on the opposite shore, with three on their side. One ship was anchored on each pier, with the exception of
The Vigilant
. That monster moored in the center of the water, with small row boats ferrying supplies back and forth from its bulk.

“This is
Spirit Breaking
,” Muldor said as they entered the first of the other galleons. The ship was more artistic, built by someone with a painter’s heart. They used a cherry stain on the outside hull, and the bow was a lovely wooden sculpture of an angelic woman, complete with wings and a serene yet grim visage. Like the fleet itself, she was vengeance personified. There were also different enjoinments connecting each section of the ship. They used a more flowery design, black metal that had shape instead of only function.

“Sixty-five guns, a crew of three hundred and eighty, comparable to the final member of the galleon class,
The Righteous
, and where our Guild representative will sail, per my instructions.”

Becket and his colleagues said nothing, though he felt the tension rise a bit. He wouldn’t last ten days aboard one of these vessels. These sailors would’ve eaten him alive and boiled his bones for their stew. The thought of staying in a tiny cabin, locked away, surrounded by dirty raucous men was abhorrent to him.

They were beautiful ships, however. He could appreciate the workmanship and craft that went into building them.

The clean, new smell of wood, and even with the hint of oil and unwashed bodies of the workers, was pleasant enough. It reminded him of when he had expanded his home with an extra outside shack for storage.

The Dock Master held his breath as he thought of the potential disaster in the wealthy quarter, one more problem to deal with; he and some others that lived there had complained to the security forces paid to protect their homes but they were in fact becoming overwhelmed. Thieves were out of control, in the city itself and in his neighborhood, police and security forces alike up to their necks in work.

As they continued their tour, he consoled himself with the fact at least The Guild was doing something about the thievery at sea. Things were going along well in his professional life at least.

Each ship, with the exception of the two supply schooners,
Flotsam
and
Jetsam
, had unique designs.
The Vigilant
was the bulkiest of course, yet according to Muldor, it was almost as fast as the others. It had extra metal stitching along its flans to provide better protection from enemy cannon fire, but he assured them this did not interfere with speed or maneuverability.

“We were forced to use larger mast heads,” Muldor said, “to accommodate the larger sails required to pull the extra weight, but I believed the additional armor is worth the effort. This will be, by many accounts, one of the largest and best armed vessels in the continent, perhaps the world.”

“Sure is,” Lawson said. His eyes were bright, like a young child opening gifts on his day of birth. He followed right on Muldor’s heels, enraptured by everything the man said and showed them. ‘Gunnar’s now one of Muldor’s people,’ Becket thought. ‘There goes my ally.’

Becket hung back and tried to make eye contact with Crocker, thinking he might get an idea of his take on this whole project, but Crocker was busy scowling to notice. Perhaps that was enough to get a feel for what was going on in his mind. But then again, he didn’t like anything that wasn’t written down in a rulebook. If it wasn’t official policy, Crocker wanted nothing to do with it.

It was all a bit overwhelming for Becket. The Guild had resources aplenty, but they were hurting from the loss at sea and building losses within the city, the market included. By the gods, Muldor had been busy! This was a work of monumental proportions.

They continued their tour, and next up was
The Hazard
. It was a sharper looking vessel, with sleek lines and low drag that looked as if it could cut through a mountain. Muldor explained that it was the fastest they could build a ship of the frigate class and the quickest ship among their fleet, even faster than the schooners. It would be used as a scouting ship if needed though Muldor had thought about contracting mercenaries to deal with that task.

“Mercenaries, is it?” Crocker said. “Need I remind you, Guild Master, of the last time the Guild employed mercenaries? It ended in disaster, and our former leader imprisoned.”

Becket held back a retort to defend Muldor, for the man didn’t need any help. Muldor faced Crocker and replied in a firm voice.

“I have not made that decision yet and will leave it in the hands of the captains, capable men who will decide if additional forces will be needed. But I will not allow you to molest them if that is your intent.” He stated this in such a way that brokered no argument, and Crocker let it be.

Rigmarole
was a common enough looking frigate with dark sails. The hull appeared more aged somehow, scraped and rubbed by sanding pads. The wood was even chipped in places, and Becket felt confusion strike them as they walked its deck. Then Muldor explained these accruements were to make the ship look more like one of Lurenz’ fleet. They would use it as a disguise to either distract the enemy or spring a trap.

It could have been a suitable lure. The possibilities were limitless from what Becket had seen thus far.
The Righteous
was similar to the flagship, only a bit smaller with no extra armor. What made it different were the extra cannon. Muldor had them doubled in certain places where the ship could take the weight. It would be the main attack ship along with
The Vigilant
. It had almost as many guns.

Becket decided he liked
Spirit Breaking
the best. It was the only one with a creative flow to it. The unique metal fastening, the carved mosaic along each deck that broke up the cherry finish and provided a nice contrast, and the beautiful figurehead all combined to give him a warm feeling that art was not dead in this world of criminals.

By the time they finished he felt dizzy. They stood on a northern shore near an office building where men rushed in and out. More people came and went, carrying things in their arms or using wheel barrels to cart off equipment. It was the reverse of what they were all used to at the docks; instead of taking supplies off the vessels, men brought them on.

“As you can see,” Muldor said, “the access supplies are being loaded onto the two schooners,
Flotsam
and
Jetsam
. Understand these two shall also be fighting vessels as well. They have been stripped to cargo holds and gun lines. They will serve a simple purpose but an essential one.”

Crocker crossed his arms and Becket knew what he was going to say before he said it. They weren’t people, they were caricatures, puppets repeating the same thing over and over.

“And who is paying for all this, hmm? This appears to be quite an expenditure, and I know for a fact none of these requests came through my office. None!”

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