Chapter 17: Best Laid Plans

As usual, Morgan’s body clock roused her at the crack of dawn—no rooster required. Not one for dawdling or preening for that matter, she leapt out of bed, yawned and threw on a loose white blouse. Feeling a sudden need, especially after a late night, she raised her arms up into the air and let out an undignified squeak when her stretch reached the middle. Leaving one hand elevated she shoved a corset through and over, pulling until it was hanging loosely. Still on the move, she yanked the leather straps of the corset from behind with one hand while tugging up her pants with the other, all the while walking towards the sliding door to her day room. Legs working faster than her brain could catch, she tripped through the door and was greeted with a pleasant surprise. Morgan was a creature of habit, let it be enough to say that it made her feel warm inside when she sighted Meena standing in front of her, holding a tankard of what her nose told her was undoubtedly coffee. Coffee was a luxury, yet it was the one thing she afforded herself and by association her crew. Her favourite brew was from Hautbas in the Duchy of Dulcea. Beans from Hautbas were exceptional in flavour and famous because the growers had to cart them a great distance from hills to lowlands, whenever The Tempest sailed into a Kingdom port, she would buy a few sacks for her stores. Taking an exaggerated sniff of the air, she grinned at Meena who unlike her was not a morning person. Grunting, Meena waited until she took the tankard and stood silent in her normal fashion, “How are you doing this morning, you must be happy that Castain’s going to be okay?” Morgan asked cheerily.

“Okay, so I was a little out of sorts yesterday,” Meena replied, flaring her nostrils.

Morgan raised an eyebrow, “A little?” She asked playfully.

Meena was easy to rile up, especially in the morning, “The man did save me, from a fate worse than death, Morgan!” She grumbled.

“Peace, just ignore me, it felt like I was losing my bristly, sometimes rash friend. I’m glad that you finally have some answers,” she affirmed.

Meena continued to bore a hole into her with a concentrated stare, when it got to the point of uncomfortable Morgan decided to take the hint, “I had better go and check on the patient,” she announced, grabbing her boots in one hand and the coffee in the other.

Morgan whistled cheerily on her way to the officers’ quarters. The whistle died however when she entered Marlo’s cabin, her patient frozen in place, one foot hovering above the ground, a raised eyebrow the only response she could give, “I’m certainly not going to sit around here and do nothing,” Castain grumbled.

Morgan walked calmly over to the bed and proceeded to check all dressings, breaks, dislocations, and bruises, then she placed hands on hips, “You look like a mummy, can’t you just stop being a captain for one second and relax?” She asked, unashamedly lecturing her unwilling patient.

As if Castain somehow knew how far he could push, he scoffed and replied with a half-smile, “That is a gross exaggeration, besides I know how things work on this ship, you will be having a little meeting shortly, and I’m going to make my report in person.”

Momentarily stunned, Morgan blinked for a few seconds before giving in to inevitability, “So be it, but you better get your butt back to this bed straight after,” Castain’s smile widened, “I’m beginning to get a picture of where you are getting all the information about my ship, and it looks like I will need to have a candid talk with Marlo.” Castain’s smile slipped.

Morgan headed for the door amidst an air of vindication. Her patient stopped her at the threshold with an innocently worded question, “Is that coffee I smell? You couldn’t get me some, it would go a long way to making me feel much better.”

Morgan reluctantly handed over her tankard, “Just what I need, another joker on my ship,” She grumbled, feeling the loss. Ignoring the look of bliss upon Castain’s face she left in search of another brew.

 

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It was still early morning and although Meena did her best to spend mornings staying away from other humans, Morgan had called a meeting. After swapping the rest of her crow’s nest duty she ambled down the ropes, rewarded for her troubles, when she sited Castain. The meeting was being held at the main deck table, mainly due to the fact they couldn’t fit everyone into Morgan’s day room. The table was filled with all the people that Meena accepted as friends and then there was Aiden. Morgan opened the meeting as always, her commanding voice causing all discussion to cease, “Alright, Castain, as you insisted on telling your story in person, and as it may be important to our next move, you’re up.”

All eyes turned to the Captain of the Serpent, clearly no shrinking violet, he cleared his throat. Before he spoke however, he raised his tankard into the air then took a slow sip, all the while meeting Morgan’s gaze. After placing the tankard back upon the table, he spoke, “Firstly, someone needs to tell me who that bird belongs to?” Pointing upwards at Aquila, Castain waited for an answer, when everyone’s gazes stopped on Aiden, he extended a hand, “It seems I owe you my life, that bird is the sole reason, that I am still alive.”

The conversation was making Meena uncomfortable, she was confronted with the possibility that Aiden wasn’t all that bad, then he opened his mouth, and things were once again set right, “I have no idea what you mean, Aquila does what he wants, I’m not actually sure why he chooses to attach himself to me.”

Castain appraised Aiden as he lowered his hand, “Nevertheless, I owe you a debt friend,” he affirmed before turning to meet the stares of those before him, he cleared his throat before continuing, “The first thing I would have to say, as it’s now pointless to hide, is that I am a kingdom spy.”

Meena was listening intently hoping that no one would interrupt, when Aiden did exactly that, “I have to disagree friend, you are not one of mine, and it’s my job to know, being that I am the spy master.”

To Castain’s credit he continued as if Aiden had never spoken, “I was a spy under King Jaegar, long may he rest in peace, when he died, I was left in the unenviable position of working to disrupt from within, or run with my tail between my legs, obviously I did the former.” The pirate captain had everyone riveted, “Until recently I was working in the kingdom’s interests the best way I knew how, then I was captured. I still don’t know how I was found out or how much they know about my actions.” On it continued thus, Castain spinning a harrowing tale of torture and treachery that ended in an otherworldly escape. One thing was certain, Meena would never look at the bird the same way again. Castain finished his story with the statement, “I know from experience that it is impossible to walk into that labyrinth and get out in one piece.” Meena understood why Morgan suddenly wore a frown, it was bad pirate etiquette to make undermining statements in front of another Captain’s crew.  

The meeting continued, thus, all the while the very thing that Meena wanted to talk about, went undiscussed. Frustrated, she simply interjected when she could no longer stand the useless nature of the conversation, “Come on, we all know what needs to be done here.” It was enough to get their attention; all eyes were upon her. “We will go in there and demand one on one combat with my poor excuse for a father.” Silence greeted her so of course she attempted further explanation, “You know, like, hi dad i’m home, have a sword in the ribs.”

For a second, there was silence then everyone talked at once, the most shocking comment came from Morgan who said, “OH, HECK NO!”

Castain’s remark wasn’t much better, “No way, did I save your life, so you could risk it on suicide?”

Meena spoke loudly to be heard above the din, “I remember more every day, and I can tell you one thing for sure, if you challenge the King, he has to accept-”

Castain interrupted, “That is because no one is crazy enough to do it, the man is simply inhuman.”

She opened her mouth to plead her case, “I’m sorry Meena, it’s a no,” Morgan’s icy words heralded silence, some had the decency to look elsewhere, some like Aiden looked directly at her. The deathly silence stretched, then feeling a sense of betrayal and swallowing the knot in her throat, she nodded and turned away.

Meena sat there as the useless talk continued, desperately hoping that all remained oblivious to her paying attention to nothing but her own inner turmoil.

 

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Morgan was in agony, it was obvious to her that Meena was hurting, her friend had clocked out of the meeting long ago. Pushing her feelings aside, she offered a possible solution to their current stalemate, if only to move on from the relatively useless conversation, “How about this, Castain can show us the grotto entrance, then we will undertake a stealth mission to gain information. Once we have the best plan of attack the Garrison can provide support to flush the Black Cloaks out of their nest.” When no feedback arose, she ended the meeting, “Dismissed.”

Morgan turned to find Meena, yet she had already escaped, her friend was now planted at the bow, swords slicing the innocent air. She approached cautiously, offering gentle words, all the while readying herself for the onslaught, “I’m sorry, Meena, I can’t let anyone put their life in danger because they have a personal grudge.”

Meena executed a riposte, her reply laced with sarcasm, “I thought we were friends, what comes first Morgan, friendship or subordination.” Morgan sighed, then turned to leave, “Just give me a bit of time on this one,” Meena growled.

As Morgan walked away it dawned on her that this particular dilemma was an eventuality, internal thoughts tormented her, cutting deeper than any enemy’s blade, “How could you be so stupid to think, that you could be friends, and in charge at the same time.” Stubbornness descended allowing her internal thoughts to align once again, “If this is what it takes to keep my loved ones alive, then so be it.” Onwards she walked feeling forever changed, desperately wanting to find something to take her mind away from her troubles, then Brady walked up and gave her what she wished for. After handing her a message Brady waited to see if she was needed. Morgan found a request inside, a request for a clandestine meeting. “Brady, can you go and get Marlo for me?” She asked.

Brady scampered away after a firm nod, the servitude of her act, once again providing Morgan with a reminder of recent events. She was still frowning when Marlo found her, “You are in charge, I’m going ashore to meet this Desert princess of yours,” She commanded.

Marlo nodded in affirmation then he responded as if he could read her thoughts, “Listen Captain, you don’t need to second guess yourself, because Meena is going through a rough patch. You have always been good at being a Captain first, and a friend second, and for that I thank you.” Morgan smiled in gratitude, then went in search of a friend who was the complete opposite to Meena in character. She found Bella amidst her break in the officers’ quarters, a book that could easily be used as a weapon upon her lap.  Bella’s second favourite pastime was reading, her first of course, was archery.

Morgan pulled Bella out of the world that she was concealed in, offering enticing words, “How about you take a break from that book and come on some shore leave. I’ll let you check out a few fletchers to sweeten the deal.” The book went flying as Bella leapt upwards, her friend shouldered her bow and quiver, then pulled on her boots. When Bella followed, nothing needed to be said. She headed for the Jolly boat, once again, reminded of the diverse range of people aboard her ship.

Sha was waiting for her at the rail, “Heard you were going ashore,” he stated, “I was wondering if I could come along, I want to see if there is any further word from the garrison.” Her nod was the only permission that was required; Sha ambled down the ladder towards the waiting boat, Morgan climbed after and was surprised to find Meena perched at an oar, a look of determination upon her face. Most would be offended by her friend’s brash behavior, but she knew better. Meena didn’t apologise to anyone; her version of an apology was to be nicer than usual and pretend that all was well, until it was. Wordless, Morgan sat, she started to row, determined all the while to keep her face serene amidst the glee that was threatening to appear there.

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Morgan’s uplifting feelings were short-lived, for when she stepped upon Astrom’s docks the hair raising begun. She helped her friends tie the boat, all the while searching her surroundings, noting that they were doing the same. Something was wrong, noises of all kinds should have been assaulting their ears, instead they were meet with silence. The very real threat of a Black Cloak attack sent her keen sword into waiting hands, “Be on your guard,” she said, her friends reacted, taking up positions around her, similarly armed. Morgan crept forward, her faith in her friend’s abilities as well as her own fueling her decision to proceed.

Up the long dock they walked and as dock turned to dry land they stepped out onto the main street towards their destination. It was there that they stumbled across the aftermath of an attack, the culprits still present. Before them a dozen Black Cloaks sunned themselves, some sitting at stalls, others leaning against walls, more gruesome still, some were sitting right next to their freshly dead prey. It was as if Morgan had walked into a tea party for corpses, the Black Cloaks emotionless gazes were staring lifelessly in her party’s direction, as if they had been gainfully entertaining themselves while waiting for them to arrive. Morgan had no time to engage the deep burn that was edging upon her senses, a turn disclosed the fact that her party had been flanked. The odds were in her favour, employing a defence stance, she brought up her short sword and dagger, the first to die would have to be the smug one sitting on a barrel using a dead fish monger as a footrest. Unfortunately, as if her anger triggered such, a row of archers appeared on the rooftops above. Her mind calculated probabilities that most could not fathom in milliseconds, burning hatred was pushed aside and she accepted that her friend’s lives were paramount, the smug face before her would have to wait to die. Throwing her weapons down in disgust, she indicated that her friends do the same. They obliged, Meena a split second slower. Mr Smug stood up from his barrel and walked towards her, Sha placed himself in front, he got a daggers pommel in the chest for his efforts. Morgan kept her face passive and met her enemy’s gaze. Mr Smug did not slow or take his eyes from her, he threw his dagger up in the air then caught it on the way down, meanwhile he stepped over a winded Sha, who was still fighting to breathe. The knowledge that Sha had been successfully incapacitated and not killed on the spot gave her hope. Stopping before her Mr Smug aimed an I-enjoy-this-part-of-the-job smile in her direction, then he sent a fist into the bridge of her nose. Training gave her the ability to cushion the blow somewhat. Nevertheless, her head snapped backwards, and her body followed soon after. As Morgan fell, her still conscious mind hoped that Meena would go quietly. Meena’s feral scream answered and despite dashed hope comfort could be found in knowing that Meena would do some damage before she went down, then everything faded into darkness.