Salt and Blood - Chapter 165

Rose sat in the restaurant, uncomfortable with how stiff all the serving staff were behaving around them

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2.71 - Elmer Saff’s Retribution

The fury of an old man is never to be underestimated. They have the patience to wait as long as is necessary in order to achieve their vengeance

-Excerpt from ‘Starsea Tales,’ author unknown

Rose sat in the restaurant, uncomfortable with how stiff all the serving staff were behaving around them. It made sense, given that this was apparently the most expensive restaurant in Nirodas, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

The only reason they were eating dinner here and not in a tavern with the rest of the entourage from the Emerlan Isle was that her uncle apparently had something important to tell her. Even the two princes were drunk before they’d left their accommodations, a fact that made Rose rather jealous.

Her uncle had shut her down when she tried to order some rum from the waiter, who’d also given her a disdainful stare. Supposedly she had to be sober to listen to what he had to say.

In the end it turned out to be a pretty serious conversation. Rose hadn’t expected her uncle’s opening sentence.

“I have a feeling a lot of people will die in the next few weeks. No doubt Minenblum is already aware of our alliance and I doubt they will take it well. I believe in our victory, but it will be hard won and bloody,” he said with a grim expression.

“That was always going to be the case,” Rose replied, slightly confused at where he was heading with this.

“Right, I often forget that you’re…”

“I’m what?” Rose snapped, a little more harshly than she expected.

“You. You know what I mean. Usually–”

“What, because I’m a girl I can’t be a pirate? I can’t fight for my homeland?”

“No, Rose! Because you’re fifteen bloody years old! Half the Emerlan army is made up of women. Hell, my wife could probably beat me up with a salted fish. She’s tougher than a doori! You know damn well that isn’t what I meant.

It’s not normal how fast you’re… doing…” His hands waved wildly in the air as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. “Life!” he eventually exclaimed, slamming them on the table and earning pointed glares from half the other patrons in the restaurant.

He froze in muted shock, the glares transferring from her uncle to Rose as she burst out into laughter. After a few seconds she doubled over and clutched at her aching belly, unable to stop the giggles from coming.

“Is that seriously why you’ve been looking two seconds from hitting the toilet all day? For this? Honestly, it’s really sweet that you’re worried for me. I appreciate you looking out for me, uncle, I truly do, but it’s not necessary,” Rose said once she finally managed to stifle her laughter.

For all his experience as a councillor, dealing with unpleasant nobles, disgruntled workers, and everything in between, her uncle had no clue what to say anymore. He’d prepared a whole speech about how she should take a step back from the conflict, spend some time with her family.

When she was a little older, then it might be more appropriate to follow her childish dreams, if that was still truly what she wanted. Yet the words died in his throat as he looked at the confident girl smiling brightly at him across the table.

In that moment he realised two things. Being a pirate wasn’t some foolish kid’s dream that she was blindly chasing, it was something she was made for. And compared to most of those who lived in their backwater nation, she was destined for a far grander stage.

“It seems I was mistaken. Us old fools are too set in our ways, you see. It’s hard for us to adapt to these shifting tides.” He chuckled at his own joke, waving over the waiter as he finished speaking.

“Can I get two glasses of rum- actually, just bring the whole bottle, we’ll need it,” he said.

The waiter looked around at that, almost embarrassed to take the order. “As you wish, sir. Anything else with your… drinks?”

Rose had to suppress the urge to giggle at the scene. Staff in these sort of fancy places were trained to expect anything from their rich clientele, but clearly her uncle’s request was still a little out of the ordinary.

“Give us meat. Lots of it! And grilled fish,” Rose said, earning an approving nod from her uncle.

“I see,” the waiter said, a faint sheen of sweat appearing on his brow. “I’m sure the chef will manage to prepare something to your tastes,” he said with a smile and a nod. With that, he rushed away as fast as his feet could carry him.

“Poor man. We could have just gone to the tavern with the others if that’s what you wanted to order,” Rose said with a mischievous smirk.

“Hey, be fair to this old fool!” he replied with mock offense. “In my mind, this conversation and meal went very differently.”

Whoever the chef was, he apparently understood their desires a lot more than the waiter. The poor man returned, looking even more haggard than before, laden with a huge platter that was piled high with meat of all kinds, along with at least a dozen fillets of grilled fish.

“The chef was quite pleased to receive your order, sir, madam. He told me to pass on this message. ‘Tell those magnificent bastards they’ve made my year. Meal’s on the house and I’ll be joining them shortly!’”

He then placed a dark green glass bottle on the table, which had no label, along with three glasses. Her uncle raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. After that he beat a hasty retreat, leaving them to their feast.

Rose suspected that chef was a terror in the kitchen, but a good natured soul. She was right. About half an hour later, a burly man in chef’s whites strode through the restaurant, throwing disdainful looks at all the customers until his eyes found them.

When he saw the platter of meat was already half eaten, he beamed with pride. “So you two are the ones who gave me a chance to stop cooking all those boring fancy dishes! Let me raise a toast to you.” As he said that, he poured himself a glass of rum that went all the way to the rim.

Rose shrugged and raised her glass, with her uncle following suit after a moment. “Thanks for the meal,” she said, clinking her glass against his.

“Anytime, lass! Now, let’s get drunker than a drowned fish and forget our woes!” the man roared, his red nose telling her this wasn’t the first time he’d done such a thing.

***

“Admiral, I urge you to reconsider this course of action one last time,” a sweaty officer said, standing beside Admiral Valynor as he gazed at the distant coast of Derridas.

The Admiral paused for a moment, his gaze turning towards the sky and then back to the coast. “I have considered your suggestion. It has been dismissed as the ramblings of a fool. You’re lucky I want to watch this or I’d be hanging you from the mainmast and whipping you senseless,” he said coldly.

The man shrunk back, exhaling as he narrowly escaped the unfortunate fate that many of his comrades had over the past week. Sailing under Admiral Valynor hadn’t yet been the enlightening experience they expected it to be.

That might change in the wake of what they were about to do. Only a single ship in the fleet had been equipped with Elmer Saff’s new weapon, the flagship itself.

It was at a ninety degree angle to the coast, an enormous cannon poking out from the lower decks. The barrel was about ten feet in diameter and forty feet long. It was so large that the ship needed a counterweight placed on the other side of the hull to ensure it didn’t tip over.

“Initiate the charging sequence,” the Admiral ordered, the entire fleet falling silent as they prepared to witness history.

It began as a faint hum, like the buzzing of a bee. Soon it grew loud enough that the weaker soldiers had to cover their ears. That proved not to be enough as those who hadn’t awakened their core or were still lacking in arcane power started to drop to the deck like flies.

The barrel started to crackle with visible energy and the air around the flagship heated up. Those who managed to resist the arcane power found themselves sweating like dogs, but none of them dared break formation.

This weapon might be powerful, but it was untested. Admiral Valynor’s wrath was a proven and terrifying retribution that they feared far more.

“Admiral, the charging sequence is complete,” a voice crackled out from the control panel on the poop deck. For the first time in almost three decades, Admiral Valynor felt his heart beating in his chest.

Elmer’s passion for this weapon had been evident. When that crazy old bastard got that glint in his eyes, the results were sure to be spectacular.

“Fire.”

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