Calliope grinned, though the expression was not one of humor except of a very dark sort. Markus spoke lightly of attacking Calaverde but in truth that was a massive undertaking, perhaps as massive as attacking the treasure fleet once it began its eastward voyage. Still it was nice to contemplate Sebastian’s face when a fleet appeared on the horizon.

“See what I mean about power?” she said, “One fortune just isn’t enough.”

___________

They beat south easterly ahead of the storms, the Weather Witch slicing through the choppy grey waters under full sail. Calliope sat in the fighting top, black tresses whiping to the wind. She had to admit that Makus had been right not to risk the westward voyage this late in the season. On the western horizon lighting flashed and stabbed down at the sea. While the costal trade never ceased, the storm season would keep ships in port rather than risking the passage across the Sea of Swords. Right now the officers of the Treasure Fleet and there men would be drinking and whoring in some well protected anchorage, waiting for the weather to turn.

Markus’ plan was to head south to Arad Lind and skip westward along the corsair infested coasts of that savage land, taking ships and plunder as they went. Such a course, hugging the coasts, was safer and much more lucrative. Calliope didn’t object, she knew that the captains of the treasure fleet were a conservative bunch. Only a fool would take any chances with so vast a fortune, any captain who lost a ship and was unlucky enough to survive could look forward to an appointment with a headsman. There would be time for them to make it to the Westerlands long before their foes set sail.

Below her Grimey was hurranging the crew to get one of the guns into position. The gnomes foul language was evident even here, fifty feet above the deck. An amazing feat for one whos lungs were so small. In the weeks since they had left the keep things had settled into a routine. The watches ran smoothly and Halvard, with ship building in his blood, had partnered with Grimey to serve as the ships carpenter. Together they had widened the gun ports and began installing the looted weapons. Grimey had initially been concerned that the extra weight would cause the keel to hog, but Markus had assured her that the Witch was well found enough to take the weight.

Calliope’s time had been spent in studying the Litch’s note books. They had stowed the alchemical equipment that could be recovered below decks and she was starting to think about setting up a lab somewhere below decks, though so many open flames and the rolling pitch of the ship posed some problems. Necromancy was not a school of magic that one encountered often and Calliope’s head was buzzing with new found dark lore. Her sleep continued to be troubled with vague and unsettling dreams of beating wings and sheets of flame as well as the odd grey landscapes she had seen when using the codex and she had taken to sleeping during the day watch and wandering the decks at night. A habit that did little to reassure the crew. The fighting top was a place to find solitude and to ponder what she had learned. 

Jim sat beside her, peering out into the nighted darkness. He had bought her a plate of heavily salted beef and the last of the fresh vegetables they had taken from the keep. The crew had stripped the fortress of everything that they could find. Pirate vessels were forever short of basic necessities, rope, pots, nails, booze and other such things were of more value than gold until the ship actually reached a port. Most of the food they had taken from the fortress was old salted meat but a few of the gardens had vegetables that had been salvageable. Periodically Jim glanced at her, nervous and excited to be in her presence. Calliope found that leading the boy on with the occasional ‘accidental’ contact to be a diverting game.

“Sail HO!” the elven look out above them screamed. Calliope looked up to see the half elfs hand outstretched to the south. SHe followed the line of his finger and could barely make out a smudge of black against the night sky.

“Two sail! Two sails four points of the starboard bow!” he called through cupped hands.