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Salt and Blood - Chapter 28
🕑 Added 2024-10-02 13:07:31 +0000 UTC<< Chapter 27 | Table of Contents | Chapter 29 >>
1.28 - A Minor Distraction
There’s no better time for revenge than during a festival. Anyone who might care to stop you is either drinking, already drunk, dancing, or trying to slip into someone’s knickers. We got Turin Firebeard while he was at Nuringuard’s Dance of the Depths. His crew were drinking not two metres away and they didn’t realise it was his blood dribbling down his beard and not his wine until we’d already unmoored.
-Excerpt from ‘Tales from The Dread Sea’ by Everett Pew
When a second rumble, still distant but louder than the last, made the harbour rock and churned the once still waters, Rose wondered if something had happened in the city.
Anchors banged against hulls and loose rigging jingled as every ship in Highbream was tossed about by the frothing waves.
Even the guards seemed on high alert. A fact that she couldn’t avoid being aware of, when the guard who she’d previously thought quite highly of given his keen vigil, but now thought was overcompensating for his blabbering mouth, started jabbering to the sleepy fellow.
“–overzealous parties, it’s not fair for the common people, I tell you. Nobles used to have class, back when I was a lad.”
The man had an opinion about absolutely everything. Rose felt as though she knew him better than some of the people back in her village—people she’d known her entire life.
A flash of white that faded to orange covered the world.
Boom. A thunderclap echoed across the harbour.
For a few seconds, the world fell silent. She feared it was permanent deafness, until the familiar nattering of the panicking guards tickled her ears.
They barely squeaked out a few words before a fearsome blast wave smashed into the harbour, ripping through sails and peeling planks from the ships.
Rose was saved from the worst of it, given that she was already lying down against the deck, but she still covered her face to guard against splinters. A smart decision—two were wedged into the back of her already wounded hand.
She struggled to stand up with the ship rocking from side to side as though caught in a storm, but her experience on board the Unrequited Love had given her rookie sea-legs.
And then she threw herself back to the deck when she realised the stupidity of exposing herself.
The guards weren’t looking in her direction, but it was better to be safe than sorry. That had to be the distraction, right? If it wasn’t, Rose was worried for Trent’s safety.
Regardless, it seemed to be working in her favour.
“I think we should go and see what’s happened. There might be injured citizens who need our assistance,” declared the ever vigilant watchman.
At least his character was sound.
“I’m not sure. What if something happens to the ship while we’re gone?”
“Oh come on you wimp—who would have the time to rob a ship after an explosion just rocked the entire city?”
The sleepy guard grumbled, but nodded in agreement. They left their posts and made their way towards the harbour steps, then into Highbream proper.
A great cloud of smoke in the shape of a mushroom billowed into the sky in the far distance. The explosion had cleared the surrounding clouds, but with the smoke it made little difference.
Once more, Rose stood up. The ships were still rocking in the churning waters, but not as much as in the immediate aftermath of the blast. The distance between them was shifting with each moment, but she knew she could make the jump—she had to.
Well… she could jump back to the harbour walkway, but she fancied her chances of sticking the landing on the wooden hull of her prize better than the solid stone of the harbour.
Rose shot a final glance back towards the occupied ship—the blast had done a number on the galleon, leaving holes all over the deck. The sails had been spared a similar fate as they were rolled up and tied off.
Crashing and banging could be heard inside, but the window had somehow survived. They would probably come out to investigate soon, but she hoped they would be more focused on their own vessel and not whether someone was making off with the neighbouring ship.
Before she could be discovered, she bounced on the balls of her feet a few times and slapped her cheeks twice. And then she started to sprint.
Thrice she had to dodge a broken plank or hole in the deck, but even five paltry levels in athletics seemed to work wonders—she was moving smoother than she ever had. There was also her profession; Rose just noticed little imperfections and obstacles and her body avoided them on instinct. It was novel, and useful.
She reached the edge of the deck faster than she’d expected, but didn’t falter. Her last few jumps, she’d sort of just leapt from the hull of the ship. This time, her leg compressed and then sprang upwards—she flew at least a metre higher than before.
Athletics was the same as her other skills; minor improvements that built up the more your level increased.
Rose failed to suppress a gleeful giggle as she soared towards The Crown of Salt. Despite the elegant form, her flight was brief and the railings loomed, growing larger with each passing moment.
Her right hand slammed into the wood, followed by her feet. There was a tentative moment where she tilted too far to one side before grasping hold of the railings with her injured hand. Her quick thinking had paid off—her wounded palm was saved from the crippling pain that would’ve come with slamming into the varnished hardwood.
Skill up!
Athletics 5 > 6
After a few seconds rest to catch her breath, she hauled herself up and over the railings. It’s barely damaged… A majority of the ships moored in Highbream Harbour had been rendered catatonic by the blastwave—The Crown of Salt had only lost a few railings.
That their ship was sturdy was to be expected—Trent wouldn’t have chosen an inferior craft to carry them through the adventures that lay ahead.
A distant assessment hadn’t done justice to the ship. Every plank of wood was filed and varnished to perfection—running a hand along the railings didn’t loosen a single splinter.
One towering main mast was accompanied by two smaller, yet equally sturdy masts, each adorned with a variety of sails. It was similar to the galleons that surrounded it in that respect, but there was one major difference; The Crown of Salt only had one deck of cannons.
A novice seafarer might think that a disadvantage for a pirate ship, especially when clashing with merchant galleons or naval craft that could sport up to four decks of cannons—Rose had also asked the same of Trent.
His answer had been simple. “Three extra rows of cannons won’t help us much if we aren’t quick enough to catch our prey. Our goal is to get on board and steal the loot—not destroy the ship. Besides, if we have to get into a brawl with every naval vessel that catches us we’ll end up spending everything we earn on repairs. Better to make a rapid getaway and grow our hoard, don’t you think?” he’d said with a sly grin.
Another benefit to the lighter vessel was that it would be far easier for Rose to sail it by herself. With the addition of Trent, they’d have no problems manning the ship until they discovered more crewmates, even if they would be rather overworked.
The first thing she did, once she’d finished marvelling at the beautiful ship, was to kick the gangplank into the choppy waters of the dock. She wouldn’t need to leave the ship and she didn’t need to make it easy for anyone who caught her in the act to stop her.
Next, she had to unfurl the sails and tie them in place. This was the most physically demanding phase of the heist. It would also be exponentially harder to do by herself—even making it a two person job would cut the difficulty by far more than half.
There wasn’t a second person though, so Rose got to work. She’d had a little experience rigging sails on board Unrequited Love, but it was far from enough. She started with the smallest sails and worked her way up.
Skill up!
Sailing 7 > 8
Neat. Luckily for her, The Crown of Salt wasn’t one of the complex beasts with dozens of sails, though she did wonder if setting up a larger ship would give her more levels in sailing. She didn’t encounter any issues until it came to setting the mainsail.
While sliding down the rigging, holding one of the bottom corners in her uninjured hand—she didn’t want to stain the fabric—her hand slipped and she tumbled from the ropes.
In her desperate battle to grab hold of anything that would keep her from falling to the deck, she dropped the sail and it was blown away from her in the wind.
Rose hung from the rigging on a loose rope, swinging gently from side to side and cursing her fortune. Something had to go wrong eventually, I suppose. She was nothing if not determined, so after pulling herself back onto the ladder of ropes, clambered her way up to the top of the mast and daintily made her way along the yard.
Keeping the sails clean was no longer possible. Her plan was incredibly dangerous and if she wasn’t operating under a time limit she wouldn’t dare attempt it.
After the explosion, the winds had whipped up something fierce and the sail was billowing at an almost ninety-degree angle. A quick pinch of the fabric confirmed it was thick enough to hold her weight.
She bounced once on the balls of her feet, an action that was turning into something of a ritual. And then she hopped off the yard into empty air.
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