her head slightly in an almost imperceptible nod as she watched the work from the Lady’s Nightmare’s quarterdeck. The rest of the crew followed her lead, keeping busy and out of my way. They didn’t even accept my help when I tried to aid the rope crews stabilizing the nets of cargo as they swung it across with the makeshift crane. Only Zann bothered with me, and only by handing me a bottle of the same stuff Drovani had offered me prior, Artenanka. I drank the red fluid straight from the bottle and crossed back to our ship, intent on finding the woman and getting my well-deserved reward, except as I dropped on our deck, I noticed a row of white sails in the distance.
“Captain,” I said, crossing the deck and pointing at the approaching ships. I wasn’t comfortable enough to yell, “Sail Ho!” nor could I be sure that they were using the same nomenclature of the age of sail from Earth’s history.
Nicatrix came to the gunwale beside me, stretching out a spyglass. She smiled when she identified the newcomer.
“Just in time,” she said.
Noting how perplexed I was, she handed me the spyglass. After a moment to track them, I noticed it was not just one, but several Vershani ships. Two like the one we had just taken, big feathery-looking bastards, each with their own different sail configuration. They were accompanied by four smaller ships. Focusing further, I noticed another ship at the farthest edges of my vision. This final vessel was so big it had to be larger even than the massive dreadnought craft that had carried the Mist Army to battle against us. The other ships were just escorts for this monster.
“Oh, fuck,” I said.
“Not to worry, Blackjack. It is according to plan.”
I just chuckled and returned the folded-down spyglass back to her.
“Yes,” she said, turning away. “Better to laugh and stay out of Vershani politics and civil wars. If you plan to live longer, that is.”
I didn’t find her, but I did locate a case of Artenanka that was two-thirds full. I took it to the forecastle and drank as the ships came closer. They came in formation; like the destroyed Vershani ship, they were mostly sail, with thousands of sheets of canvas stretched from every angle, in particular two ventral appendages that jutted out twice the length of the ship, giving each vessel the look of a large feathery bird rather than a ship of war.
They slowed and circled, with their smaller ships forming a perimeter around us, and the massive one standing off several miles to our rear. They launched a skiff, and as it neared it was apparent the small boat was almost as large as the Lady’s Nightmare.
“You trust them?” I asked a crewmember as he walked by carrying sacks of grain. He just shrugged, eyeing the bottles of Artenanka greedily. I gave him one, stuffing it into his waistband so he didn’t have to drop his burden. He shrugged again and strolled off.
The Vershani skiff was made of the same bone-white material, pale like alabaster. It was oblong and one-decked despite its size, and ringed with an angled gunwale that gave it a sleek look. Sail strakes jutted out from the rear and a small complement of thrusters powered it toward us. Aboard were a dozen warriors, standing in formation along the middle, each of them wearing golden armor that revealed only their midsections. Each wielded a long scythe with a blade made of pure white-blue energy that rippled and glowed. Their faces were obscured under a faceplate of the same color, and feather-like decorations, shrouded in the same swaying energy, shot out the backs of their helms.
Along with this honor guard were other Vershani wearing robes instead of armor, though the decorations were similar: swirling patterns on the fabric of their clothes, porcelain masks sprouting feathers, and glowing staves of the same material as their ship hulls. They were led by a short figure that bore the least decoration, just bare white robes and only a silver-blue amulet hanging from his neck.
Other Vershani were aboard, but they were tasked with manning the ship and sail. A small group of females, mostly nude, huddled near the rear of the ship, cringing in fear of an elderly female that wore a decorated robe and a heavy golden necklace. Once the skiff came close, the “worker” Vershani threw ropes across the gap to the Lady’s Nightmare that our men caught and tied to