Chapter 41

Work halted on Silvermoon’s harbor as monster girls leapt from the deck of The Scarlet Bitch to the wooden pier, then turned to catch the mooring lines cast down by the crew. Once the ship had been secured, Ratt called for the furling of the two remaining sails used to bring them slowly into port.

Dockworkers and sailors resumed their jobs as the ship extended its gangplank, and the unusual spectacle devolved into the mundane task of loading and unloading cargo but with monster girls instead of only men. Kal looked out from the bow and frowned. He had only experienced Calfera, Kuji, and Soma’s dockside. Compared to them, Silvermoon felt dirty and dingy.

“It’s in your head, Kal,” said Ikuno as she joined him. “This is no dirtier than Soma’s docks. You just think it is because you already dislike the city for being slaver-friendly.”

“You’re probably right, but I’ve already seen multiple men, women, and monster girls wearing collars in just the few minutes I’ve been standing here. That alone makes the city feel dirty. Look,” Kal pointed at a group of collared men straining by twos to carry crates to one of the neighboring ships. “On top of being disgusting, they’re doing work for free that could let a man feed his family.”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘free,’ but I understand what you mean. The other dockworkers seem to feel the same way,” she said, noting the dirty but sometimes pitying looks the dockworkers gave the porter slaves. “I heard from the crew that a fair amount of the slavery in Silvermoon is indentured servitude, selling yourself into temporary slavery to settle a debt. Their reactions make me wonder how many had a collar around their own necks for a time.”

“‘Temporary slavery to pay off a debt’ doesn’t feel much like slavery at all. Unlike the slaves in Fazal or The Bitch’s original crew, those people will eventually earn their freedom.”

“Remember that some of these indentured servants will spend years or even decades under someone else’s thumb, and like any other slave, they and their debt can be bought or sold. I’ll give you that the indentured have a degree of hope slaves do not, but when you become a ‘thing’ to be freely traded, I wonder how much that difference matters.”

Kal scowled. “It’s almost like you’re defending them.”

“I’m not,” the oni replied, “just pointing out that there may be less difference from their perspective than you think. Also, purchasing a slave is an investment, and while a slave owner purchases them for a specific job, it’s in their best interest to protect and care for that investment. With indentured servants, you only have them for a limited time, so it makes sense to get the most work, and consequently the most value, out of them before their contract ends. Kolas said the indentured servants are often treated worse and work harder than the actual slaves in Silvermoon.”

“I recall him mentioning he was from here or at least spent some time here in his youth.” Kal spied a group of about ten men marching down one of the main streets to the docks wearing Darrow’s colors. The mage groaned as they angled directly toward The Scarlet Bitch. “That didn’t take long,” he grumbled.

“Where do you need me?” Ikuno asked.

“I’m taking Kashka, so just be ready. I’d rather avoid bloodshed, but if it comes to that, I’d rather you not be involved.”

“Aww, you’re no fun.”

“We’ll be in this city until The Perdition comes into port. I don’t want the commoners screaming in terror whenever they see you.”

“As I said, you’re no fun,” the oni chuckled.

Kal grunted with annoyance when he realized she was joking before leaping over the deck rail and slowly floating to the dock directly into the path of Darrow’s men. Moments later, he felt more than heard Kashka glide up behind him. The cat’s mind had gone eerily still in anticipation of a fight.

“Scarlet’s on her way,” sent Ikuno.

“Keep her there. These are my men, and I have an idea how to settle this peacefully,” he replied over the bond. Aloud, he called, “Ria.”

The sprite appeared and flitted up to his shoulder. “‘Sup, bitch?”

Kal raised an eyebrow at the unusually aggressive greeting. A ripple of laughter momentarily disturbed the stillness of Kashka’s mind.

“Don’t give me that look. You’re the one who gave me some of that good dick, then didn’t summon me for the next few days when I was hoping for a repeat. Now that we’re back on land and away from all the extra women, I want back in the rotation.”

“That’s fine, but I need my staff right now.”

The weapon appeared in Kal’s hand as Darrow’s men halted in front of him.

“Stand aside,” growled their leader.

“State your business with The Scarlet Bitch,” Kal countered.

“That ship is The Intrepid, and the women aboard are mutineers. I have come to return it to its rightful owner.”

“The ‘rightful owner’ you speak of is dead.” Kal briefly studied the man’s face before saying, “You aren’t surprised.”

The security detail’s leader suddenly looked unsure of himself. “There have been rumors...”

“Those rumors are true. The rumors probably did not mention that Darrow turned over his estate and possessions to me before his death. You work for me now, and I’m telling you to let The Scarlet Bitch unload its cargo in peace. Now, unless you plan on looking for a new employer, show me the way to Darrow’s offices. I have business to take care of.”

“I’ll do nothing of the sort until I see proof.”

“Your proof is what few bones remain at the bottom of The Spine, where he was knocked overboard.”

The man’s face went pale. The dangerous waters around The Spine were well known by those associated with the shipping business.

“Agreements made at the end of a blade mean nothing,” he spat after a brief pause.

“In Silvermoon, and in most places, that may be true. But the rules are different at sea, and I honored my end of the bargain.”

“By killing him?”

“I did not. In fact, that was the deal. His property and riches for his life.”

“Yet he’s still dead.”

“But not by my hand. I only promised not to kill Darrow, not to protect him from others who may want him dead. Listen, if you want proof that I own all of Darrow’s holdings, I can show you, but we should do so at my offices.”

“No, I won’t take you anywhere without proof.”

Kal sighed. “As you wish. Are you familiar with bags of holding and how they work?”

Darrow’s man answered with wary, “Yes.”

“So you understand I cannot tell her,” Kal pointed at Ria on his shoulder, “to store things which I do not own?”

“Yes.”

“Finally, were those uniforms purchased by you? Or were they issued to you as part of your employment?”

The man’s eyes widened.

“That’s the answer I was expecting. Ria, strip him.”

The security detail leader sucked in a breath as his clothes vanished, turning into motes of light that floated into the bag on Kal’s belt. A moment later, laughing, catcalls, and whistles floated down from the women watching from the Scarlet Bitch’s deck.

“Is that enough proof?” Kal asked, stoically looking the man in the eye upon realizing he wore no undergarments beneath his uniform.

The man drew a deep breath in through his nose, then let it out slowly through his mouth but made no attempt to cover himself before speaking.

“First, may I have my pants back? Second, by what name should I call my new employer?”

“Ria, give the man his pants back. My name is Kal, and yours is?”

“Thiben,” he answered while pulling his pants back on to groans of disappointment from The Bitch’s female crew, “I’m head of security for Mr. Darrow’s dealings here in Silvermoon.”

“Was head of security for Darrow. If stripping you in public didn’t send you running for the hills, then I’m guessing you work for me now.”

Thiben sighed. “Yes, Sir.”

“What about the rest of you?” Kal asked the men with Thiben. “If you don’t want to work for me, I promise I will let you return home and change out of your uniform.”

“I’ve got a newborn son at home, Sir. I couldn’t leave if I wanted to,” said one of the men. A few others murmured agreement but for different reasons. None chose to leave.

Kal waited for Thiben to secure his belt before saying. “If that’s all out of the way,” he looked up at the deck of The Bitch and waved Ikuno down. The oni vaulted the deck rail and landed heavily on the pier, giving everyone who was looking, and Kal felt like everyone was looking, a flash of her bare sex and breasts until the leather flaps fell back into place.

“Show off,” Kashka muttered, startling the security detail by seeming to appear out of nowhere.

Ikuno grinned at Thiben as she joined them. “If you aren’t already taken, a few women aboard would appreciate your,” she glanced at his crotch, “gifts if you don’t mind being with a monster girl. Looking at the men behind him, she said, “Captain Ratt extends the same invitation to any men who are unattached. The men aboard The Scarlet Bitch do a wonderful job keeping up with a ship full of monster girls but would appreciate if any of you could give them a chance to rest. If you’re interested, drop by the ship after sundown.” She turned to Kal, “That was all the Captain had to say.”

“That’s quite the change of attitude.”

“Getting an eyeful of your man here had a few of the girls practically begging to invite him aboard. That offer was her compromise.”

“Good way to make friends, I suppose. Thiben, take us to my offices, please.”

Thiben’s face had turned bright red with embarrassment, but at the same time, he had difficulty keeping the smile off his face. Kal could hardly blame him. Despite the humiliation of being stripped in public, the mage imagined it would be hard to ignore that your naked body lit a fire in most of the women who saw it.

The detail split and allowed their leader, Kal, Ikuno, and Kashka to pass before falling in behind them as Thiben led them off the pier and into the city. The men didn’t move with military precision, but the mage, oni, and cat could tell they all had at least some combat experience.

The dockmaster and another security detail in the city’s colors met them as they stepped off the wooden docks.

“Do you need assistance, Thiben?” asked the dockmaster, looking warily at the blue, golden-horned woman who towered over everyone in the city.

Thiben nodded. “There have been some changes in my employment. I don’t want to say too much until Olvo has spoken with these three. I’m escorting them to him now.”

The dockmaster shrugged before allowing them to pass and dismissing the city’s guardsmen.

“That seemed odd,” said Kal.

“The procedure if The Intrepid ever docked has been in place for years. Me and my men would try to commandeer the ship, but if I felt it beyond our capability, Darrow had the city guard on retainer to help.”

“Scarlet would have burned The Bitch and your docks with it before letting Darrow take her ship back,” said Kashka.

“I don’t doubt that,” Kal added. “I doubt your men, even with the help of the city guard, would have stood much of a chance,”

Thiben frowned. “My men are well trained.”

“As well trained as the mercenaries and mage Darrow hired to take The Scarlet Bitch back?” asked the cat. “The mercs are all fish food along with Darrow, and the mage only lived because of Kal’s good graces. Kal and I helped in the battle, but without us, I doubt the outcome would have changed once the mage was neutralized.”

Thiben seemed doubtful. “Surely they couldn’t be that strong.”

“We lost only one crew member in the attack, a silver fox who went berserk, swearing she would never be put in a cage again. She alone ended many mercenaries before finally succumbing to wounds that would have killed you or me minutes earlier. Had you attacked The Bitch, you would have been up against an entire crew with the same mindset as the fox, and I doubt you would have fared any better than the mercenaries. Don’t disregard the power of desperation.”

The head of Kal’s security seemed flustered by Kashka’s tirade and couldn’t come up with a dignified response. “You mentioned a mage,” he said instead, steering his conversation back to Kal and away from the seething cat-girl. “The rumors about Mr. Darrow seemed to come from the drunken ramblings of a female mage, but when we tried to verify her story, she had moved on from the city.”

“Good to hear. I hope she finds what she’s looking for. It’ll make it worth not throwing her overboard.”

“And pissing off most of the crew by not doing so,” grumbled Kashka.

“Exactly.”

“Look behind us, Kal,” said Ikuno. The mage quickly glanced back and saw the city guard from the docks following them. “I’d bet a gold piece they aren’t following us because of you or Kashka,” the oni said with a resigned sigh. “Does it make sense now why you found me out in the middle of nowhere, being quiet and pretending I don’t exist?”

“If ‘pretending you don’t exist’ involves protecting a local town from bandits, rescuing a girl from being raped, and falling in love with an alarune and a farmer, then I’d say you did an excellent job of pretending you didn’t exist. But I understand why you wouldn’t haunt any large cities if your receptions were always like this.”

“At least in Azumbaho, they understand what I am and treat me with respect instead of fear,” she stated.

“Forgive my asking, but what are you?” inquired Thiben. “You most certainly aren’t an ogre, though I can see some similarities.”

“I’m an oni, an Azumbahan spirit given form,” she replied.

“A powerful Azumbahan spirit,” Kal corrected. “She alone could easily take out your men and the guardsmen behind us, and that’s without using magic.”

Thiben looked annoyed at Kal’s flippant dismissal of his men and their skills. “And what about you?” he asked Kashka. “Are you some Azum cat spirit?”

“No, I was Fazal’s most skilled assassin until I became Kal’s bodyguard.”

The man quickly looked away from the cat’s piercing stare at Kal. “And you?”

“I’m just the humble mage who stole their hearts,” he quipped.

Kashka snorted, and Ikuno snickered behind her hand at his response.

“I gathered you were a mage of some sort from the way you floated to the deck and the markings on your bracers,” said Thiben. “Though you are easily the youngest I’ve met that wasn’t at a magic academy.”

Kal grinned up at Ikuno before saying, “I’m a little different from other mages.”

Darrow’s offices weren’t that far from the docks, but Thiben took them on a longer route that avoided some of the more unsavory portions of the city.

Despite his earlier conversation with Ikuno, Kal still thought Silvermoon seemed dirty compared to other cities he had been in. Even the streets of sand-choked Fazal felt more comfortable. In general, the city’s atmosphere felt more like the slums of other cities. The image wasn’t helped by the many homeless and beggars lining the streets. Among them were men with wild eyes staring into nothingness and often dotted with skin lesions.

“What is wrong with them?” Kal asked, though confident he knew the answer already.

“Droosa,” said Thiben. “Once they stop reacting to the people walking by, the corpse cart picks them up.”

“When they’re still alive?”

“Their heart may still pump blood, but when they reach that point, the drug has eaten away so much of their minds that they won’t survive unless someone forces them to eat or drink. The lesions are from not cleaning themselves, but they rarely live long enough for the infection to kill them.”

“What about magic healing?”

“Healing can fix the body, but it can’t fix the sickness in their minds. Those who are healed return to using Droosa and just take longer to ride the corpse cart.”

“Fazal had drugs, but nothing like this. They were so expensive only the rich could afford them, though sometimes lower-class people would band together to fill a hookah for a night,” said Kashka.

“Hookah?” Kal asked.

Kashka sent him a mental image over the bond. “It’s essentially an ornate metal incense burner with tubes people use to inhale the smoke. The smoke makes you feel calm and ... happy? I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“You experienced this calming smoke?” he asked.

“Yes, but all I will say is that the smoke significantly affects your judgment and slows your reaction time. Don’t ask me more.”

“There are no women,” noted Ikuno.

Thiben sighed. “No, only men. Women hooked on Droosa have other uses and are often picked up by brothels in the rougher parts of town.”

“This looks pretty rough, near as I can tell,” said Kal.

“I’m sad to say it can get worse. The brothels supply women with Droosa until they are too far gone to be useful.”

“And afterward?”

“It’s best for decent folk not to think of such things. But by the time they reach that point, whatever comes next is probably a mercy.”

Kashka’s memories of when Azrin assaulted her bubbled up in Kal’s mind before he pushed them away. “I don’t think you understand how twisted some people can be.”

“I understand, alright, but for the sake of my sanity, I chose not to think about it.”

“You seem like a decent person,” said Ikuno. “How are you working for a slaver?”

“I was born and raised here in Silvermoon, where slavery is common and accepted, unlike in other places. I didn’t work for Darrow because he was a slaver. He merely offered me a job that let me pay my bills and take care of my family.”

“What about those kidnapped and taken away from their homes and families?” asked Kashka, her voice dripping with anger.

Thiben stared at the cat momentarily before saying, “For the sake of my sanity, I choose not to think about it.”

“How convenient,” she hissed.

“Peace, Kashka. If this Droosa is so awful, why doesn’t the Silvermoon High Council do something about it?”

“Officially, it’s not allowed in the city. But those laws are never enforced since the Droosa suppliers pay off the town guard. Not to mention, the Silvermoon High Council has gotten stupidly rich off of the Droosa trade. As with all people in power, once they have so much, they stop caring about the people beneath them.”

“But they are entrusted with the city’s welfare, are they not?” asked Ikuno.

Thiben shook his head. “Maybe at one time they were, but people in power get to make the rules. They abolished public elections before I was born. Now the council holds private elections when a seat needs to be filled.”

“That sounds stunningly corrupt.”

“It’s how things are here in Silvermoon. For the sake of your sanity, I suggest you don’t think too hard about it.”

“That seems to be a common theme with you. What about cutting off the supply?” asked Kal. “Where is it coming from?”

“Rumors say it’s made from a plant that grows somewhere in the area, but I don’t know what plant it could be. Another rumor lately is that it comes from a fungus or plant deep underground, but I’ve also heard its origins are in lands to the north. I don’t think anyone in the city, except the suppliers, knows where it comes from. The other component, silverleaf tea, is one of Silvermoon’s largest exports. There is no chance of people giving up one of the city’s main sources of income.”

“You mentioned lands to the north. I’ve heard there are people north of Silvermoon who cast spells by singing. Do you know anything about them?”

“The Meekari people are said to have shamans that sing blessings or spells. I’ve never heard this singing, but a friend of mine has. He says it’s unnerving. It’s like you can’t decide if you want to watch, run away, or soil yourself. His words, not mine. We’re here,” said Thiben, stopping in front of a whitewashed building that seemed notably cleaner and in better shape than most they had passed on the way there. Above the door sat Darrow’s crest cast in bronze.

“Ikuno, could you get that thing off my building?” asked Kal.

The oni chuckled as her claws easily punched through the metal. With a twist of her hand, the emblem came loose from its anchors. Thiben hopped sideways to avoid the shower of whitewash where it cracked around the mounts. “Here you are,” she said, handing the crest to Kal.

“This should be interesting,” muttered Thiben as he opened the door to Darrow’s offices.

Eight people stared wide-eyed as the door swung open. Four desks lined each side of the room, with the one nearest the door not in use as it lacked the stacks of parchment and instruments for tallying on the others. A larger desk sat at the back of the room, and this one was also unoccupied, but only because the person sitting behind it a moment ago was striding down the middle aisle toward the door.

The man stopped in his tracks as Thiben, Kal, Kashka, and Ikuno stepped inside, though Ikuno had to squeeze sideways and nearly crawl through the door, then chose to kneel instead of standing hunched over.

“Who ... Who are these people, Thiben?” he screeched. “And why are you coming in here without a shirt on?”

“Calm down, Olvo. The rumors are true: Darrow is dead, and he surrendered everything over to this mage before passing. His name is Kal.”

“But ... how? There was no change to his will.”

“I offered to spare Darrow’s life in exchange for his property and riches,” Kal explained, grabbing either side of Darrow’s crest and folding the bronze metal in half. “Darrow accepted the agreement, and his acceptance was witnessed and recognized by two Captains aboard that day. By the laws of the sea, our deal was binding.” As he spoke, Kal used his strength rune to continue folding the crest until it was about the size of his fist, then set it on the empty desk.

“I’m shirtless because his bag of holding stripped my uniform off,” Thiben added. “He was kind enough to return my pants, but we both know he couldn’t have done that if he didn’t own my uniform.”

Olvo cursed under his breath as Thiben’s words sunk in. “No, no. This has to be some kind of trick,” the man said, backpedaling. “He must be using some trick to deceive you, Thiben. Call the city guard and have these people removed.”

Thiben looked back and shrugged. He hadn’t expected Olvo to accept Kal’s story any easier than he had.

Kal sighed and turned to the sprite on his shoulder. “Ria, store their ink and quills, any parchment with wet ink, then the rest of the documents on top before storing their desks.”

The sprite waved her hand, and according to Kal’s instructions, the inkwells and quills vanished into motes, followed by the documents each office employee was working on. A collective gasp shot across the room as everything purchased with Darrow’s money except for their chairs vanished in a flurry of lights, leaving the workers scrambling to catch the small personal trinkets they brought from home. They sat there staring in awe, and a little bit of fear, between Kal and Olvo.

The office manager looked around at the empty room, finally peering back to where his son’s ornamental dagger lay on the floor where his desk had been. The weapon was given in acknowledgment of his son’s bravery and leadership in fending off a bandit attack. His boy had received many such daggers, but this was his first. It was the only thing in Olvo’s desk that was completely his, and the only thing this man’s bag of holding didn’t, or couldn’t, take.

Turning back to the mage, he said, “Return my desk.”

Kal shook his head. “I will only return your desk if you continue working for me. The same applies to the rest of you,” he said, making eye contact with the other people in the office. “From this day forward, we will no longer be transporting slaves but standard merchant cargo. I am not a slaver and will not allow my ships to transport slaves.”

Olvo returned to where his desk once stood and picked up his son’s dagger before sitting hard in the chair. “All of our current contracts are for slaves. I don’t know if I have enough cargo contacts to put together a full ship’s worth.” He shook his head. “The men won’t be happy about losing access to the slaves.”

The mage flew across the room and grabbed Olvo up by his shirt before slamming him into the back wall. “The men’s inability to fuck the cargo is the least of my concern!” he snarled. “When the next ship comes into port, unload the slave cages and sell them. Then, fill it with standard cargo. Undercut the other shippers a little, if necessary, just as long as we aren’t operating at a loss. Understood?”

“The Perdition will be in next week,” Olvo gasped. “I’ll get it filled.”

“Good,” said Kal, setting the man down. “I apologize for losing my temper like that, but I feel the world would be better if every slaver fell over dead. Ria, return his desk.”

Light poured out of Ria’s bag, and each mote carefully positioned itself before transforming into its respective item.

“Um, Mr. Kal?” Thiben called out. “First, can I have my shirt back? Second, I don’t think this is going to work out.”

“Ria, give the man his shirt. Why do you say that?”

“Everyone here, myself included,” he said, pulling his uniform over his head, “owns a slave we purchased from Darrow. If you are so against slavery...”

Kal sighed. “Are they happy, healthy, and treated well?”

The office workers exchanged looks with each other before nodding in unison.

“Just because we worked for Darrow doesn’t mean the slaves were cheap,” said one woman. “We aren’t paid so much that we can mistreat such an investment.”

Kal rubbed his temples in frustration. “Then continue on the way you are. I need people to run this business more than I need justice right now. The next time I return, we can discuss your continued status as slave owners. Maybe, if you free them, I’ll reimburse you for their price or something. I don’t know right now. That’s a discussion for another day.

“What I do need right now is some idea of what exactly I own.”

“Understood, Sir. However, if you are changing your business’s direction, then there are matters I must attend to immediately. Horm,” Olvo pointed to the man sitting at the desk closest to his, “will be able to go over all of Darrow’s assets with you. Also, Darrow was a powerful man in Silvermoon, and I will be telling people of his passing. The authorities may have some questions.”

“That’s expected. Relay any inquiries to The Scarlet Bitch at the docks. Both Captains who witnessed Darrow bequeathing his estate and belongings to me, then his subsequent death, are currently aboard.”

“Did everyone hear that?” Olvo asked the other workers, who nodded in unison. “Those of you who need to find cargo contracts for The Perdition when it comes in should get moving as well.”

Olvo picked up his overcoat and looked at the crest on its chest. “Would you like me to order new uniforms with your crest on them, sir?”

“I ... don’t have a crest ... or a flag. I’m still working on it.”

“I recommend doing so sooner rather than later if you don’t want to be known as ‘Darrow’s successor.’” Two other workers began preparing to leave along with Olvo, and a minute later, followed him out the door.

“Was it wise to let them go alone?” asked Kashka. “If he manages Darrow’s money, he could be collect it all and run off with it.”

“That’s highly unlikely,” said Holm, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Olvo is a hardass and a stickler when it comes to the books, but he’s honest to a fault. It’s gotten him in trouble with Darrow many times.” He glanced over at Ikuno, his eyes lingering on her ample breasts. “Do you really want us to free our slaves? Mine has certain attributes,” glancing at Ikuno’s chest again, “I find very appealing.”

“Human or monster girl?” asked Kal.

“Monster girl.”

“Was she taken from her family?”

Holm shrugged. “Not that I know of. I haven’t asked her about her past, but from what she has mentioned, she doesn’t remember a time not living as a slave.”

“Then, when you free her, ask her to stay,” said Kal. “If she hangs around, then I wish you both the best. But if she leaves, I expect you to let her go quietly. I recommend you be sure she knows how much you appreciate and admire her body before you let her go. Now about my assets, and not the ones attached to my lover’s chest.”

“Wait, Kal,” Ikuno interrupted. “Does Darrow have a private room?”

Curious about where her question came from, Kal scanned the oni’s thoughts and discovered she was intensely aroused. “Really? Now?” he asked.

“Darrow’s office is on the second floor, but the door is locked.”

“That’s not an issue,” said Kal as Kashka jogged past him and up the stairs in the back of the room. “Thiben, we may be here for a while if you have anything else that needs your attention.”

“Thank you, Sir, but I feel my time will be best spent acting as your guide to the city. However, I will dismiss the other men to their posts.”

When Kal arrived at the top of the steps, Kashka stood beside the open door, dropping her lockpick case back into a belt pouch.

Darrow’s office wasn’t on the second floor; it was the second floor. Everywhere they looked were gold-trimmed silken silks and furniture made of exotic woods. In the back corners stood two statues of naked women with sultry expressions, while paintings of women in the throes of passion lined the walls.