“The Weather Witch,” Calli prompted as she unstoppered one of the rum bottles with her teeth and took a fortifying slug. It was rotgut compared to what she had been enjoying in the palace only a few hours before. Still it was better than nothing.

“She’s down by The Old Grave.” The Weather Witch was a twelve gun sloop of war, or at least theoretically. It had been captured trying to slip past customs with a load of cacao. The captain had officially being arrested for not paying his taxes, though the truth was that the man had foolishly tried to short a port official on his bribe.  It was extremely dangerous to deny an official his hard earned kick back, especially when he had already paid her for the honor of an appointment to the customs dock. It was amazing what some people would to to try to save a few florins. Though the Witch could carry twelve guns, the captain had long ago sold most of the artillery, a fact Calliope hadn’t felt necessary to list on the bill of auction she had signed. As of two days ago the Witch had only four guns and almost no shot and powder. Still a ship was a ship.

“Well anyone wearing a uniform will be laying low for a while,” Calliope reasoned, glancing unconsciously towards the palace at the top. Revolutions were easy to point in a direction but once they went off they were a little unreliable. The mob might have started out filled with righteous anger, but that would be dissipating in an orgy of drunken looting that might last days. Sebastian might be able to get a few of the more hardcore revolutionaries to listen, but she doubted he could control the port for days yet.

“Working the Witch with just two people will be a bitch and no mistake,” she went on. Calliopie had been on ships of course, before she had become Tyrant but she didn’t pretend to be a real sailor. She noticed that Markus had fallen silent as though expecting something and she realized she hadn’t told him her name. It might perhaps have been wiser  to make up some sob story about being a low level courtier, or some such nonsense but this was still her city. Instead she tossed her hair definitely.

“My name is Calliopie,” she said airily.

“You may have heard of me,” she added with dry understatement.