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3.35 Shelling Pirates

  Black Falls Slave Bunkhouse Twelve, Harvest Season, 6th rot., 5th–6th day, Foskos Time

  He was one of the thirty-two salt workers who lived at Bunkhouse Twelve, which was for young men who didn't have partners. Zoto came back from the day's work shoveling the last of the salt crusts for the year, now that the hot days of the year were over and the leaves were already turning on the mountain slopes. He wasn't hungry, but he felt hot, so he went to his bed pad and lay down. When the other men in the bunk house returned to the bunk house after dinner, they found Zoto weak, delirious, and burning with a fever.

  Two of his bunkmates half-walked and half-carried Zoto to the chapel shrine of Mugash. The healers took him and kept him for the evening. By morning, Zoto was jaundiced and had broken out in a rash on his abdomen, under his arms, and around his groin.

  By midday, the chapel shrine had admitted nine more Coyn with similar symptoms. By the seventh bell, Zoto died along with four others.

  Emily, Souk Fjord, Harvest Season, 6th rot., afternoon to evening of the 6th day – East Coast time

  "Beloved, all I need to do is make a fireball and drop it on them," Moo interrupted me while I was trying to finish the trig table I was making on a wax tablet. I would use it to calculate my angle changes for aiming the mortar.

  "I'm almost done, Moo. Then we'll demonstrate for our friends from Souk why they might want to invest in some mortars for harbor defense."

  "Explain how this table thing works again? I still don't understand," Moo pleaded.

  "No, I've already gone through it three times, Moo, and if you still don't get it, we have no more time today. Now let me finish. I want to get going on sinking that Cosm ship. Remember, Moo, you must stay underneath that sail so the remaining silverhair can't spot you with clairvoyance."

  I did my last three interpolations for the trig table and then hopped the gunwales onto the ketch. Captain Willis, a big beefy gal named Blurgel, and a wirey youth called Nargo were waiting for me. Blurgel was as big as Tom. She was in charge of adjusting the turntable and vertical angle for the mortar tube. Nargo was in charge of prepping the fuses and dropping the shell into the tube after the Captain lit the fuse with a coal pot. My chore was to consult with Moo, who was hiding under the sail. She would report where the shells fell after watching with her clairvoyance. Then, I would calculate the corrections for aiming the mortar. Blurgel would adjust the mortar heading and angle, and Nargo and Willis would take another shot. At least, that was the plan.

  The hardest part of the plan would be to keep Moo'upegan hidden under the sail on the deck of the former pirate ship, which was now the center ship of our three-ship ensemble. Moo was a strange mix of an excitable little kid and a hard-nosed, ruthless ruling-class mage. Her childlike wonder at anything new was fun to watch. Her impatience and bloodlust toward the pirates were scary. I was worried she would get carried away during the upcoming battle and reveal that we had a mage on our three limping ships before we had a chance to sink the pirates.

  I realized it wasn’t a big deal because if her presence was discovered by the raiders, Moo would just drop the fireball she wanted to use on them. She was a top-tier mage with the power one expects from high priestesses and rulers. If Moo were a dog breed from Earth, she'd be a big, happy, fluffy Newfoundland.

  Willis had anchored our half-wrecked ships on the southwest side of a bluff that stuck out into the ocean. The entrance to the fjord was on the north side of the bluff. We were hidden from the pirates and the rest of the harbor. Moo had erected a barrier against the light breeze, though it didn't stop the waves. We did have a steady platform for shooting because the three ship hulls lashed together were longer than the ocean swells out of the southwest. Willis had oriented the ships at anchor so the wind was parallel to the keels. He had set two anchors at both the bow and stern. Each was on a windlass so Willis could refine our angle to the wind by adjusting them.

  I guessed we were about a fifth of a wagon-day from the two pirate ships trapped in the fjord. I looked up the angle setting on the chart included in every case of mortar shells.

  “Let’s start with twelve and a half pi-hundreds, Blurgel,” I told the tall blond Coyn lady. “That will be close to our maximum range. Are you watching, Moo?” I shouted

  “I’m ready, Beloved,” Moo yelled back.

  “Slow fuse is lit,” Willis said. “Ready for the fast fuse, Nargo?”

  “Yep.”

  “Alright,” he lit the fast fuse and Nargo dropped it down the muzzle of the mortar. They dropped into their crouch with their hands over their ears before the mortar made a most satisfying loud pop as the shell arched over our heads, northward over the bluff between us and the fjord.

  “It landed on the cliff on the far side of the fjord — I can’t tell how far with all the trees — and passed about ten boat lengths to the west of the two pirate ships,” Moo shouted.

  “So, we overshot?” I asked.

  "Yes, and they didn't even notice the splash," Moo laughed. I think she was enjoying herself.

  “Blurgel, try six and a quarter pi-hundreds from the vertical and a four pi-hundreds turn to the east on the turntable,” I instructed. I would still need a third shot to calculate ranges because the first landing wasn't correctly observed. I thought I had told Moo I needed locations that were as accurate as she could estimate. Couldn't she at least read my mind? What good is having a giant, magical, mind-reading monster superbeing if she's falling down on the mind-reading bits?

  A few breaths after the second shell departed, Moo said, “You’re about eight boat lengths south of the two ships and you’re about two boat lengths to the east,” Moo said. “I think they noticed the splash. They are confused because they think it came from the trebuchet that’s closest to us, which they sent a landing party to destroy this morning.”

  “Hand me that blank tablet, please?" I leaned forward and held out my hand. Blurgel passed it to me and then crouched to watch what I was doing. I could at least estimate my east-west scale without the third shot. It took less than a breath to see the answer. "Oh. Right. Duh," I grumbled. "Blurgel, please adjust the turntable two-thirds of a pi-hundred back to the west. Then, let’s try nine and a quarter from the vertical.”

  “Woohoo!" Moo erupted after we all heard the rapport of the explosive charge going off. I interpreted Moo's yelp as confirmation that we had a hit and not a wasted air explosion or a shell falling short of the target.

  “You hit the north pirate ship," Moo chortled. "The mast and sail, which are on fire, have fallen onto the other pirate ship. Quick, shoot a few more!"

  “Set the vertical to nine and a tenth, please, Blurgel," I did a quick calculation. I realized I could have skipped making the trig table. The angle changes were probably small enough that the trig correction was unnecessary at our current level of accuracy. I probably wouldn’t need it.

  “Dammit, the fires are out,” Moo grumped. “We need to off that mage. Shoot some more!”

  The pop of the mortar replied.

  “Oh, how delightful!” Moo chortled from under her sail. “You got the south ship and wrecked the tiller. Quick, shoot a few more!”

  Yes, Moo was definitely enjoying herself.

  “Oh no," Moo threw the sail off, "the mage is coming this way." She pulled her boots off and shed her white Mattamesscontan officer's coat. "Here's a one-way barrier, so you can keep shooting, but she won't be able to throw anything like a fireball or wind blades at you. I'm going to hide for now." Then, Moo dove off the stern of our middle ship, which was the former pirate ship Moo had vanquished two days before.

  The pirate silverhair appeared as soon as the waves covered Moo’s head. I don’t think she saw Moo.

  "So, this is how," she flew over us and then landed just forward of the mizzenmast on the ketch. She looked big and scary like most Cosm mages having a bad day. I hoped one or more of the sailors on the middle ship could drop a few arrows on her from the rigging.

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  She was middle-aged based on the wrinkles on her face and hands. Her expression was murderous, and I was a bit worried by it.

  “You!” She screamed at us. “Where did you get that ship?” She pointed at the middle of the three vessels we had lashed together.

  Captain Willis was amazing. He bowed politely and smiled as if she were a customer looking to buy his cargo. "Ah, my lady, we were accosted by the fine folks on that ship two days ago, but they turned out to be pirates, so we couldn't continue our relationship."

  While he was talking, Nargo and Blurgel had turned the mortar tube to point it at the silverhair. Nargo held a shell without the explosive tip. Blurgel took the coalpot and lit the fast fuse for the propellant charge. Leaving off the tip was a smart move since an explosive charge going off when it hit the silverhair would kill us, too. The Cosm was standing right next to us.

  “Hey, what are you—?” the silverhair began but never finished.

  The tipless shell ripped through the middle of her, spraying blood, meat, bones, and pieces of her abdominal organs across the ketch's steering deck. She looked at the hole through the middle of her and then crumpled into the red, gory mess between the mast and the gun platform.

  "Wow!" Moo erupted from the water and landed on the ketch's steering platform. "What a great move! You folks are great!" Then she surprised everyone when she knelt next to the mutilated silverhair, placed a hand on her head, and tranced. After a few breaths, Moo opened her eyes fully. "They are from Mattamukmuk, which we all suspected," Moo summarized. "They have three remote bases, set up over the last five years. The smallest is up the coast towards the Cliffs of Gong, in a hidden harbor they use for only half the year. They are packing up and heading back to another of the bases on the northeast tip of Alkinosuk before the northern waters ice in for Cold Season."

  “Where’s the third base?” I had to ask.

  “Thinembalk, which is the second of the Six Great Islands chain that stretches southeast of Gungywamp,” Moo stood slowly and carefully. “The masts on the two pirate ships are currently wrecked. The survivors have all moved onto the south ship and are trying to row out of the fjord. I’d get some shells fired before they start moving.”

  “I got a shell," Nargo said, holding it out. Blurgel lit the fuses, and Nargo dropped the shell down the mortar tube. I didn't get my hands over my ears before the mortar went off; now they were ringing. We heard the sweet sound of a shell exploding on the other side of the bluff.

  “Oh, how nice,” Moo smiled malevolently. “I believe they are sinking. May I please go finish them off, Beloved?”

  I sighed. “Oh, alright. Try to save some of their clothes this time. We’ll need the cloth to make you more things to wear. And could you please dispose of the mess?” I pointed at the bloody body parts strewn across the steering platform. “Her boots might fit you.”

  “I can’t wear a dead person’s clothes!” Moo looked appalled.

  "Oh, yes, you can!" I countered. "Our ship is a wreck, so you can't head home. Cold Season is coming, and you have nothing to wear. The Coyn of Souk aren't going to have enough cloth to keep you dressed through the coldest part of the year. Have you ever experienced snow, Moo?"

  “No, but I can cast charms of warmth,” she smiled at me confidently. “I’ll be alright.”

  “Oh, dear,” Captain Willis shook his head.

  “This will be a problem,” Nargo looked up at Moo in pity.

  “You don’t know how to sew, do you, Exalted One?” Blurgel asked.

  “Try to preserve any Cosm rations they have on their ships, Moo,” I directed. “The Coyn in Souk probably don’t have any ground gypsum or calcite to add to your diet, so look for that first. Save any blankets and sailcloth, too. You're going to need those, too."

  “I will?” Moo looked genuinely clueless.

  “Start with the boots, Moo,” I advised. “We don’t have much daylight left today, so let’s get moving.”

  Lyappis, Is'syal Palace, Harvest Season, 6th rot., 6th day, morning – Foskos Time

  “Surely, I’ve mended enough that you can free me from the neck restraint?” I tried to reason with that youngster Kidsodos.

  “Revered One, I’m sure you remember procedures for severe head and neck injuries," Kidsodos was cheerfully stubborn with me. "Restraints are for a minimum of two days or until the lead healer determines they are no longer needed.”

  “I’m not nauseous anymore,” I pointed out, “and the pain is gone. My eyes are now working just fine. Kidsodos, how about you release the restraints so I can quietly sit in bed and knit? Can we try it and see how it goes? Just for a bell or two?”

  "I'm your lead healer, and I think you can abide until this evening. I'll evaluate you then if I want to release your neck," Kidsodos smiled and didn't budge. "Revered One, we almost lost you. I am planning on going slow with your recovery. You're not as young as you used to be. You don't need to rush to get out of bed. So, shall I have someone come and read to you? That should help with the boredom. It's just for the rest of the day."

  “I am not a big reader, young lady,” I pointed out. “I like puzzle games and cards,” I suggested. “Anyone up for some scabby queen or a game of poker?”

  "I believe the Blessed Lisaykos is flying up some treatment records for you to review," Kidsodos smiled in a way that did not reassure me. "She has arranged to have them read to you while you recuperate today."

  “She’s still here?” I was shocked.

  “She’s been by already today,” Kidsodos replied. “She has a morning repast date that might take half the morning but said she'd drop by before heading back to Aybhas."

  “A morning repast date?" I asked. My curiosity was awakened. Lisaykos was not someone who casually made early-day meal dates in a city nineteen wagon-days to the north of her own home. I had no doubts that a good story was behind that interesting statement. I had some new news to look forward to, but for now, I was bored, and Kidsodos refused to give me my knitting until I was released from the neck restraints.

  I thought it would be a long morning, but I was wrong. My youngest child arrived with Prince Garki in tow.

  “Holy One,” Kidsodos bobbed a quick bow as she finished making notes on the wax tablet with my treatment record on it. “Come get me when you’re done,” my healer left me with my visitors.

  “Good morning, Mother,” my Kami strode in, dressed in her everyday office robes of white and red. She pulled up the big armchair and settled in, with poor Garki following behind her, carrying an armful of records rolls.

  “You look much better today,” Kamigishi flashed me a smile. “I’m glad you’re doing better. You were still groggy yesterday.”

  “What I am, child, is bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. And my healer,” I waved raised a hand and pointed at the door, “won’t even let me knit.”

  “It’s not practical, Mother, and you know it isn’t,” Kami replied. “Given how bruised your right shoulder and neck are, you won’t be able to hold up the knitting needles for more than a few minutes. You are not being reasonable, Mother.”

  My wayward daughter was not cooperating.

  “Trainee Garki has just received copies of the treatment rolls for the Prophet,” my daughter stretched out her legs. “Lisaykos had them flown up from Aybhas overnight. I’m leaving him here for the day so he can read them to you. By the time he needs to leave for dinner, you should be free of the neckboard and can keep reading them on your own. Lisaykos estimated that the Prophet's treatment rolls would be interesting enough to keep you from terrorizing the staff of the chapel shrine."

  “Garki’s not a healer,” I pointed out. “Should he really be allowed to see the Prophet’s records?”

  “He wouldn't have been the King's page if he couldn't keep his mouth shut, Mother," Kami stated. "Besides, he needs a few days of relief from studying court cases. Most of the early Emily records were recorded by the Queen or by the records table at the Crystal Shrine. Then, the records shift to those kept at the Healing Shrine when the Queen rescued Emily after her accident with the glass furnace. The bit about erasing all of Emily's scars was fascinating reading. I had no idea she had been scarred so badly."

  “She was scarred?” I had to ask.

  “Emily had whip scars on her backside from her feet up to her head," my daughter replied. "Lisaykos and Aylem removed all of Emily's scars during her first rotation in Aybhas."

  “You’ve already read these?” I asked, looking at the lengthy rolls.

  “I skimmed them after they were delivered this morning,” my daughter admitted. I wasn’t surprised. My Kamagishi shares my ravenous curiosity. I would have done the same.

  “The Queen said she’ll be done later this morning, and Lisaykos said she’ll be by before she heads back to Aybhas,” Kami added.

  “So, child, who is Lisaykos having morning repast with?” I had to know.

  Kamigishi laughed, “Mother, it’s too funny. Lisaykos found Twessera here yesterday. Now, she has flung herself into the details of arranging Priestess Twessera Syo’erk’s marriage to Onsus Arnmay. She’s having Onsus and Twessera over for early repast at the Kay’syo haup Gunndit household at Six Brewers Row, where she stayed last night.”

  I sighed, "Oh, how I wish I could be a spider in the ceiling corner and listen to that mealtime conversation.”

  “Yes, I know,” Kami nodded vigorously in agreement. I had to work hard not to laugh at poor Prince Garki, whose look of long-suffering teenage patience was exquisite.

  My Mistress Lisaykos knew me too well. The Prophet Emily’s records captured my attention and kept it. Lisaykos wanted me to take on healing the little prophet’s waking trauma sickness, so I needed to see these records eventually. I was surprised that the notes from the Crystal Shrine were included, with documentation on every sighting Aylem had made of Emily in her wilderness home.

  The records were a revelation. Listening to Garki read, I was struck by the number of new things Emily had introduced in two short years: instant fire, Tiki’s cure, a new pain medicine, two new stomach medicines, paper, pencils, the divine, ice cream, white and yellow egg sauces, sekanjabin, the adjustable compass, the sliding rule, the machine that made lightning, rubber, new kinds of valves for pipes and aqueducts, gentle soap, bleach, sugar from beets, syrup from maple trees, the shower, the flushing necessary, glass containers, the camera, the magnifier, concrete, iron and steel, new kinds of crutches, the walker, exploding powders, at least four types of bombs, and fireworks. She had even corrected the ratio of a circle to its diameter, an important number used by the Hospitable Shrine of Gertzpul in building roads.

  I directed Garki to start a list of everything Emily had created since she arrived in Foskos. Whenever he encountered a new Emily invention, he stopped and wrote it down on a wax tablet. We agreed that the fireworks were incredible. We disagreed on which was her greatest invention. I thought it was bleach, which did wonders for washing and cleaning, but Garki said it was ice cream. He was a typical growing youth with a stomach that had a trap door straight to the great sucking mouth of Uedroy. Of course, he thought new foods were more noteworthy than cleaning products.

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