Poisoned Shadows

A Sister’s Duty

Rosamonde du Montaigne ran a bare finger lightly across her bottom lip as she stared out into the darkness. Her white gown glistened with salt from the ocean spray, and waves lapped at the ship beneath her. Behind her, the Montaigne sailors adjusted the sails and prepared to navigate the waters between the town and the isle of Mann that lay just outside the harbor. Attempting this at night was a desperate move, but it was her sister’s last hope. The flash of the lighthouse reminded her of her last trip to the port and the man she had met…

He was large—a bear of a man stuffed into courtier’s clothing despite a rakish eye patch. He had been scornful. “No, madam naval inspector. Neither myself nor my officers have time for a party.”

Rosamonde raised a graceful eyebrow. “I’m not discussing an Eisen drunken brawl. Just a small affair for your officers and yourself. Surely your duties can spare you for an hour or two?” Her lips dipped into a frown of irritation. Who did this thug think she was? No one refused a personal invitation from l’Empereur’s daughter—especially not in such a condescending manner. The General stood and paced about the room, overfilled with maps and nautical charts. He gestured broadly as he spoke. From the dents in the panels and broken filigree, he usually wore his panzerhand in here.

“I don’t think you understand our position here, madam.” Rosamonde frowned again at his use of that word. “Pirates have been plaguing this area for over a year. They have at least three large ships and are well organized, but every ship sent here finds nothing. It’s too far from any naval base to position a ship here constantly, especially one that cannot uncover anything.”

“Exactly. Just as you’ve found nothing. This seems the perfect time for more…civilized pursuits.”

The General slapped his first into his hand and continued speaking—more to himself than to her. “And I’ve found nothing. As if they know we’re here. But we came in at night and hid the ships immediately. The crew hasn’t even been allowed onshore. Du Mar is the only one who knows we’re here. But why would he tell the pirates? They’re plundering his town, stealing from his merchants. Why raid yourself?”

Rosamonde interrupted his musings. “Because if pirates take your people’s goods, you are not responsible for the taxes. You can simply pocket the money. And then l’Empereur will send ships to investigate these pirates, which brings in traffic and trade for the local merchants. It’s ingenious.”

The General turned to her and quietly asked, “Who told you where we were docked? Whose idea is this party?”

“Du Mar’s. He told me where your ships were and suggested a small ball to relieve the boredom.”

“I’m certain boredom won’t be a problem for much longer. Those pirates mean to hit us while our officers are at your party. But we’re not going anywhere.” He turned away from her.

“One problem. I’ve already invited the other two ships. Du Mar suggested this would go better if you didn’t have too much time to consider it.”

The General shouted, “They deserted their posts? Without even informing me?” Before she could respond, he took a deep breath and calmly asked, “How does du Mar feel about peasants?”

Rosamonde shrugged, “The same casual contempt of most nobles.”

“Then he won’t care if I agreed to the ball or not. If I was at the party when the pirate attacked, it would ruin my career. If I refuse, then a strong attack will likely leave me dead. Either way, I’m no longer a threat to him. But you…”

Realization lit Rosamonde’s eyes. “If I realized what had happened, his life could be forfeit. In any case, l’Empereur’s daughter would fetch quite a ransom. Far more than they’ve been getting from the warehouses. I must get out of here…”

The gruff reply interrupted her. “No. They’ll be expecting that. They’ll also expect us to try to run if they attack in force. Never surrender, never flee.”

“Is that an old Eisen saying?”

“In Eisen, we have no time for old sayings.”

He swept out of the room with Rosamonde in close pursuit. Their bodyguards, his in fighting leathers and hers in blue silk, fell in behind them. As she looked around, her heart fell. She knew most of the officers from court or inspections and individually, they were highly skilled, some of the best of the fleet. But their expressions ranged from distrustful to positively hostile. The General ignored their faces and began barking orders.

“Topmen, cast off, pull us out for the north passage around the Isle of Mann. Lookout, call out when you see the sails. Men, we’re about to be attacked and our escort’s officers have gone dancing. It’s up to us. Rois et Reines, Le Beau, take command of the Pincer and the Anvil. I expect one ship will be coming from the south, deal with her. You have full authority to do whatever is necessary.” The First Mate and the Porté Master saluted and hurried to the forecastle. The scream of Timothy Le Beau’s freshly-opened portal filled the air behind the General’s orders.

“du Sices, du Crieux. Pound them as hard and as fast as you can. These are not the Crimson Rogers. They won’t fire on each other. We board one of them and they won’t be able to keep firing upon us. Then all gunners transfer to the other side and keep firing at the other ship.” The gunners muttered their acknowledgement of the orders.

“Babette, Isabeau, we need the pirates shattered as a unit immediately. They have us outnumbered, so hit them hard and fast!”

Babette nodded. “Nothing quite like a little stroll across the ship’s decks.”

Gilles Allais du Crieux pointed out, “These men are going to be trying to kill you.”

Babette glowered back at him, “I don’t believe their intent is any more savage than yours.” Before he could return her barb, the lookout yelled, “Sails in the north passage!”

The next few minutes flew by in a haze of nausea as the small Grenouille du Gráce skipped across the waves towards the rapidly approaching pirate ships. Despite her misery, Rosamonde watched the crew around her with alarm. Years of inspecting naval ships hadn’t taught her a slip knot from a main mast, but it had given her the ability to read a crew’s skills and a captain’s ability to handle them. She noticed the hostility between the women on board and Gilles Allais du Crieux, the way the topmen were snapping at each other while one small figure tried to direct them, the tension in every crewman. The General had obviously alienated his crew to the point where their ability to work with one other was faltering. Before she could act on her observation, it was too late.

The pirate ships had split up so that one was ahead to port and the other ahead to starboard. Both ships were older and slower then the Gráce, but they were half again her size and the passage wasn’t wide enough for the Gráce to use her maneuverability well. As the pirates opened up with their cannons, she saw that they ran the same number of guns as the small frigate, despite their larger size. Of course, that still meant that the Gráce’s guns were outnumbered two to one. Most of the shots missed, but one smashed through the railing and struck one of the crew. Rosamonde shuddered at the eruption of blood as the Gráce returned fire. Both sides exploded into smoke and the cannonballs flew. Each target shuddered with multiple impacts. The gunner crews spun into action and minutes later, the Gráce fired again. Rosamonde began to hope, until the General called out a course correction as the pirates closed.

The correction brought the Gráce’s portside guns in line with the pirate on that side, and Gilles Allais and his crew scored a direct hit. But on the starboard side, Louis Sices’ guns were pulled far out of alignment just as they prepared to fire. He shouted an order to his men and they hauled at the gun mountings, struggling to aim them back at the target. The guns shifted a few degrees, and Louis reached out with one hand as the crew heaved again. The gunners’ desperate efforts shifted one heavy gun, but sent them tumbling to the deck, exhausted. Louis staggered to his feet and his hand plunged into a bloody rift, emerging with a small steel plate. His gun fired immediately, while the adjacent gunners lit their fuses, their guns firing a few seconds later. Their shots flew wide, but Louis’ struck home—and now the Gráce was bearing straight for the second ship.

Rosamonde glanced around, taking stock of the crew. The topmen were preparing the boarding nets, directly above the main deck where Babette rallied her marines. Louis Sices’ men were still scattered on the deck as if dead. Isabeau Dubois and her marines had gathered on the aft deck. du Crieux ignored the ship currently bearing down on them and continued to fire on the other, which had begun to close as well.

A moment later, Rosamonde’s worst fears were realized as the Gráce collided head-on with one of the enemy ships and a wave of pirates outnumbering the entire Montaigne crew washed onboard. One crowd of them leapt onto du Sices’ men, still trying to regain their feet, leaving Louis to faced a doze men alone. Babette and her men engaged another mass of boarders until the boarding nets fell from above, entangling marines and pirates alike. The topmen stood frozen in shock as their poorly-timed action gave the advantage to the pirates’ greater numbers. Elsewhere, Isabeau Dubois’ men barely fired off a single shot from their muskets before they were engulfed by another swarm of invaders. Isabeau’s two servants tried to hand her loaded muskets, but the press of attackers prevented her from bringing them to bear. Still, she was holding her own. For now.

The General swore once, then turned to his cabin boy and barked, “Get up in the rigging and tell those topmen to get down on the deck or I’ll have what’s left of them whipped when this is over!” Without waiting to see if his order was obeyed, he threw himself away from the main deck and towards Isabeau. Rosamonde and the bodyguards tried to stay close as he hit the pirates from behind like a grenade, smashing men aside with his panzerhand and broadsword. Rosamonde drew back in distaste as a mouthful of teeth danced across her feet, but her bodyguards leapt into the fray and within seconds, the pirates were thrown into disarray. Isabeau and her men drew back and aimed their muskets at their attackers until the General growled, “Save du Sices.”

Isabeau nodded and shouted a few quick commands. The marines turned and fired a volley across the ship and into the mass of pirates trying to get to the disoriented gunners behind Louis Sices. The impact of the musket balls drove the pirates forward, while the thunderous report brought the gunners to their feet. With a shout, they surged around their commander and swept over the wounded pirates. The pirates surrounding Isabeau and the General took heart at the smoking muskets of the Montaigne, and one of them shouted, “They’ll need to reload before they can fire again!”

Isabeau smiled. “Really?” Over her shoulder, she lightly called, “Now, Pierre.” The pirates elation changed to fear as the servants who stood behind the wall of marines slapped a freshly loaded musket into each pair of hands. A close range volley from the front rank of marines shattered their pirates’ formation. Another servant handed Isabeau a third musket as her front rank dropped to one knee and the back rank raised their weapons. The pirates tried to scatter, but failed, and the air exploded with the sound of flying iron. Only a few pirates remained, clustered around the General and too close for musket work, even if any of the weapons had still held ammunition.

Rosamonde turned, and time slowed to a crawl as three pirates slashed out at the General. The General parried two attacks with his sword and lashed out with his panzerhand against the third. One pirate was sent crashing to the deck, where he tripped up Rosamonde’s bodyguards. One of them, Martin, had been drawing a pistol at the time and it flew through the air towards her. She grabbed it reflexively. Another pirate shouted a challenge and charged across the deck, his cutlass in both hands and raised above his head, aimed for the General’s back.

There was a clap of thunder and a cloud brimstone all around Rosamondem, then the pirate was falling to the deck, a crimson spray still filling the air behind him. Her hands ached, and when she looked down she saw that they clutched a smoking pistol. Black powder covered her dress. The General walked towards her, stepped over the pirate who lay crumpled at his feet to stop before her. “Thank you.”

Then he had walked past and was ordering the Montaigne marines into action. Somehow, the tide had turned in the last few moments. Isabeau and her men were firing on the remaining pirates. The riggers and Marines under Babette had cleared the main deck. Louis and his men had joined Gilles and were firing volley after volley at the remaining pirate ship, which was struggling to escape. Rosamonde felt numb as she watched the Montaigne all around her continue as if nothing had happened. She looked down. The man she had shot…the man she had killed lay at her feet. Everything blurred around her.

“Lady Rosamonde! Lady Rosamonde! Help me, Lady Rosamonde!”

“Hmm?” Rosamonde glanced around. She was still on board the Gráce, but some time had passed. The pirates had been thrown overboard or secured below, in the hold. The wounded were being cared for as the General dealt with the last few details of the attack. One of her bodyguards was delicately fanning her with his blue silk cravat.

“Lady Rosamonde!” She focused her attention on the man cowering before the General. He was a slight figure, dressed in the finery of a Montaigne noble. He appeared terrified, but unharmed, as the Montaigne captain ordered him into the hold with the other prisoners.

Rosamonde rose to her feet, gliding across the deck towards him. “General, wait a moment. There must be a mistake. This is no common pirate. This is Phillipe du Mar, the brother of Duke du Mar.”

“He’s a pirate. A common rogue.” His look was filled with contempt for the man before, and with something else. It took a long moment for her to realize that it was respect for her.

“No, General. Not a common rogue at all. He is a noble and a gentleman. We must put him in an officer’s cabin and make him comfortable until we can return to port.” The nobleman straightened up for a moment and smiled. But Rosamonde continued speaking. “Of course, then he will be put on trial. Not as a pirate, but a traitor for raising arms against the Montaigne fleet. The penalty for that is the removal of noble status, confiscation of all property and execution…as a common criminal.”

The nobleman’s face dropped in horror. He stared into Rosamonde’s face for a moment, then dropped to his knees and crawled towards her. “No, please! Not that!” The General looked down at the man in disgust, and Rosamonde compared the two. All her life, she had dealt with those like du Mar. Noblemen who cared about her station or influence. Men who crawled to her for what she could do for her. But the General didn’t care about those. He was treating her with respect because of her actions, for saving his life. He respected her, not her position.

“Yes. Exactly that for yourself and your brother.” Rosamonde’s eyes suddenly lit up with an idea. “Unless…”

Du Mar grabbed at her words like a drowning man reaching for salvation. “Unless? Unless what? Anything I have is youra!”

“The General and I were discussing earlier how this section of Montaigne has no naval bases, and the difficulties this has presented. However, l’Empereur has no plans to build one here. It would be very convenient if a nobleman were to build such a naval base and give it to the crown as his patriotic duty.”

Indignation flared in du Mar’s eyes. “A naval base? That would cost a fortune.”

Rosamonde’s face was impassive as she replied. “A fortune that you will not have once your crimes are brought to light.” The nobleman bowed his head for a moment before nodding. “And trust me, du Mar. If you think to co-opt the base for your own ends or weasel out of this, I will make certain that your fate is long, slow, and unpleasant.” Her voice was as hard as the General’s panzerhand.

She turned to the General and drew him aside. “General, please put this man up in one of your officer’s cabins for now.”

“He attacked us and tried to kidnap you. Why allow him to weasel out of his crimes?”

“This way, Montaigne profits from a new naval base, he pays for his crimes, and the officers can keep an eye upon the activities here. That will give you allies in this area as well. He’s a nobleman of Montaigne. No matter what evidence we have, the chances of him ever being brought to anything resembling justice are remote. If we take it to my father, it will come down to what mood he is in. Most judges are no better.”

The General’s voice was soft. “Alright. A base in this area will be a benefit. And allies are always useful.”

Rosamonde smiled slightly in response…

Rosamonde du Montaigne shook her head and stared into the darkness around her. That had happened a long time ago. She had saved his life that day. Later, she had protected him from the wrath of the Admiral and the other nobles who hated him. She had saved him, time and again. But now that she needed him, he was gone. Her mouth tightened at the thought.

Her small ship slipped through the dark waters and into the naval base. She had helped build it and had inspected it several times. She should be able to slip in and out without any difficulty. She had learned that day that she was far from helpless. Her sister Evelyn’s life was at stake, and even though she didn’t know how to go about saving her, Rosamonde would try. Damn the Revolution, she would try to save her sister!