Calliope made no effort to contain her disdain for her companions opinion. Imagine a rum soaked sea bum presuming to know the first thing about retaking a city. There was a reason why some people rotted in the gutter and others rose to the heights of power. Calliope had grown up as the daughter of a Praelin currant merchant but through cunning, ruthlessness and exercise of will, she had made herself all but a queen. Given that Sebastian had missed capturing her it might well be possible to retake the city. The passion of the mob was a fickle thing and she could might be able rally enough guardsmen to restore order with generous bribes and promises of power. If she did that however she would have to crack down on those who had supported Sebastian as well as reward her new constituents. In short order she would find every assassin from here to Tak Duran trying to put a knife between her ribs, if only to save their employer from her justice. No it was better to leave. Sebastian would have little joy of the city, the treasury was empty and the trading season would be coming to an end soon. Within months it would become clear to the populace that he couldn’t deliver on his promises. They would remember the better days they had enjoyed under her gentle rule. It might only be a year or so before a mob arose demanding their exiled leader return. Of course all that was predicated on getting out of here alive in the first place.

The Weather Witch swung at her moorings, snugging up against first the bow cable then the stern. A long jetty of salt scoured timber ran out into the gently lapping waters of the darkened bay. The Old Grave as this part of the harbour was known, had been a graving dock a hundred years ago. As Calaverde had grown as a center of trade the needs of the city had expanded and New Harbor, now almost fifty years old had been built. New Harbor boasted better facilities and docks as well as easier access to the roads which lead to Market Square and the warehouse road which ringed most of the island.

 Ships came to the Old Grave for repairs only if they couldn’t aford the more expensive rates over in New Harbour, or if, like the Weather Witch, they were being held for disposal ‘at the tyrants pleasure’. That usually meant an auction that would generate prize money for the captain and ‘tax income’ for her. Calliope smiled, her white teeth flashing in the moonlight. As commandeering the Weather Witch WAS her pleasure she supposed she could consider this a final act of her administration. 

The Witch was old and her hull was dark solid teak from Mandari or Calica. She was long and had a stately elegance to her, like a swordsman that had only slightly let himself go to fat. She had only two masts and was sloop rigged to make fighting the seasonal winds easier for a small crew, dark weather stained canvas hung bundled to the yard arms hardly stirring in the listless breeze. Empty gunports let the starlight shine through, like missing teeth in an age blackened skull.

Calliope sauntered down the dock ignoring the bloody corpses of the former guardians. No one gave out any cry of alarm as she vaulted gracefully over the bulwark and landed on the deck. The ship was not untidy, clearly some efforts had been made to pretty her up for sail. The deck had been scrubbed clean and the cables were for the most part coiled neatly. Anything portable and valuable had already vanished into the clutches of those able to carry them away and the cargo had already been offloaded and sold. Four guns, eight or ten pounders were snugged up on the deck, two of them indifferently covered with canvas sheets. One of them even had most of a set of loading tools though any powder remaining would be below decks in the magazine.

“Normally we would have boats tow her into the channel,” Calli told Markus as he joined her on the deck, having apparently cleaned the blood from his blade. Some ships had sweeps for such a task but normally teams of seamen plied the oars of small cutters to maneuver larger ships. 

“Did you have a plan for that or were you just hoping for a wind to come up?” she asked tartly.