You can view the previous installment of Mario's tale here.

Chapter 7
5th of Coldeven, 588 CY
1st Bell, Mid Watch
Leukish, Duchy of Urnst
Nias Patri strode down the stone pier towards the Wavdancer's berth. There was some sort of altercation at the base of the gangplank that had the rail lined with smiling ratings that were catcalling a small detachment of soldiers standing ill at ease and with growing agitation behind a young, blond haired officer in the colors of the Ducal Guard.
"Ngumo!" Nias called as he strode past the soldiers.
Ngumo Kangoro, his First Officer, stood at the base of the plank arguing with the young officer. The Bakluni turned towards Nias with a look of relief, "Sahib, this man says that he is to come aboard the Wavedancer."
"Lieutenant Kale, Ducal Guard." Lieutenant Kale was a tall man, of medium build, with sandy blond hair, brown eyes and high cheekbones. He saluted as Nias halted at the gangplank.
"He and his attachment are assigned to help us, Ngumo." Nias said, returning the Lieutenant's salute somewhat awkwardly: as a rule sailors didn't salute; though Mariners, those that served in the Merchant Marine of the Duchy, had compromised with a fist to heart gesture, "We're to Nystran on the Admiral's orders and the good Lieutenant and his men are along to help."
Ngumo frowned, and Kale nodded at Nias' words, "You understand that we're not sailors."
"Fully understood, Lieutenant." Nias replied, "We won't need your services until we reach Nystran, and I'm hoping not even then. But I've learned to trust the Admiral's instincts on these matters."
"Just so as we're not expected to row or anything."
"The Wavedancer is a cog, not a galley, so we'll be sailing, not rowing." Nias replied with a hand gesture to Ngumo to still any scathing remarks than man might have had.
Ngumo grunted, giving the landlubber another measuring look then turned and strode up the gangplank. The sailors lining the rail moved away as the First Officer began bellowing orders.
"Make ready to cast off! Out the sweeps!"
"If you and your men will come aboard, Lieutenant, we'll be under way." Nias said and strode up the plank to his ship.


The Silver Goose was an upscale gambling and drinking parlor, much different from the surrounding trades and craftsmen shops. It opened after most honest craftsmen had gone to bed, and stayed open until the crack of dawn. It sported a number of tables where those who wished to gamble could find anything from Lan Tan and Pokiir, to Schak-the Suloise version of chess-and dice.
Its understated exterior hid the bourgeois interior of yellow and burgundy, the hardwood tables and the scantily clad 'hostesses' that served food, drinks, and at times other pleasures, to the guests of the establishment.
It was, Keifer thought, the nicest whorehouse he had ever had the pleasure of visiting. But it wasn't pleasure that Keifer Slade, the Peregrine's bosun, sought this night. He glanced around the room filled with the upper crust of Leukish society as they wined, dined and gambled away small fortunes.
Behind Keifer four ratings armed with truncheons looked around with wonder and a little envy.
"What's it take for a guy like me to taste o' this life, sugar?" Asked one of the ratings as he pinched one of the scantily clad waitresses, eliciting a squeak from the girl, and a burst of laughter from the other ratings.
"Knock off, Berkley, or you'll spend the night cleaning the scuppers."
"Sorry, Mr. Slade." Berkley said, "What are we looking for anyway?"
"This gentleman by the name of Tormand Reede, a supposed Captain gone without leave." Keifer said, and referred to a note scribbled with thick-lettered writing.
He looked around the room until his eyes fell upon a well-dressed individual, blond haired and mustached and speaking with the crisp notes of Leukishan nobility as he dealt cards at a table nearby, "That's looking like him."
Keifer strode across the room with the ratings tagging behind, stopping at the gentleman's elbow.
"Excuse me, sir. Are you Captain Tormand Reede of the Lady Palanine?" Keifer asked.
"Not now, my good man. Can't you see I'm busy?" the gentleman replied, "Dealer takes two." He tossed two cards down and drew two more off the top of the deck.
"I'll ante with a gold." One of the men said, tossing in a shiny gold piece stamped with the Arms of Urnst.
"Look here, are you Captain Tormand Reede?" Keifer said, tucking the note back into a breast pocket.
The gentleman looked up, "I am, and whoever you are, you're going to find yourself broken to private, or whatever they call it these days, and in jail for a fortnight if you don't leave me alone right now! I can't believe the rabble they let in here these days. Marsha should have better guards on the door."
"Captain Tormand Reede, I am placing you under arrest. You're wanted for questioning by the Admiral of the Navy. Please come with me." Keifer said, reaching for the gentleman's arm.
"What! Arrest? Impossible!" Tormand said incredulously, "Marsha! Have your guards throw these buffoons out of here!"
Marsha Tetwild, the proprietor of the Silver Goose drifted over flanked by two liveried young men, "I will have to ask you and your friends to leave. You're not welcome in this establishment."
"What she's said?" asked one of the ratings in a bewildered tone.
"She's throwing us out of this here whorehouse, is what." Another answered with a snicker.
The two liveried men beside Madame Tetwild stepped forward.
"Berkley, get the Captain and let's get out of here."
"Right, Mr. Slade." Berkley said, and grabbed Tormand by the shoulders and began lifting the nobleman from his chair.
One of the bouncers lashed Keifer across the jaw with a right hook. Keifer shook his head from the blow, reset his cap, and decked the astonished young man with a powerful blow to the top of his head.
Two of the ratings jumped the second bouncer, truncheons flying, and Berkley lit into Captain Tormand with a couple of good strokes before Keifer's bellows stopped them.
Brandishing truncheons they pulled the barely conscious Tormand out of the brothel and gaming house.
As the door to the Silver Goose was slammed behind them, Keifer took out the slip of paper from his breast pocket, "Right then. Next is a Captain Carris Peltrades..."


Hansel Bruleigh scooped up all the papers and shuffled them in his hands, tapping the bundle against the desktop to even out the edges, "Well, Ficks, there you have it. Do you have any in mind for sergeants and corporals?"
"I've pulled Huggins from the Raven, and Kanteed from the Wavedancer, they'll give me my first two. I don't know about those who're shipped out right now, but the only two that are of interest to me from the land-bound bunch is Sergeant Koch, and the private, Wendsley Tate." Anton Ficks replied, running a thick thumb across his chin and frowning at the growth of stubble he found there.
Anton Ficks was a wide man: wide shoulders, wide hips, wrists as thick as hawsers, thighs twice the diameter of a strong man's with a booming voice and an almost permanent snarl on his blunt face. His nose had been broken several times, and never quite set straight afterwards. His heavy brow and thick, black hair made some remark that he must be part Euroz or, given his size, part Eiger.
He had at one time been the senior sergeant of a House cavalry brigade under the command of a Seltaren nobleman. That had ended the day Dervishes from the Bright Desert had slipped across the border through the Knife's Edge Pass into the Duchy of Urnst. The nobleman, whose brigade had been guarding the pass, had bugged out with the greater part of the brigade leaving Ficks and the remainder to fight or perish.
Anton Ficks and twelve of the fifty abandoned troopers survived. They had held the three hundred plus raiders for twelve hours until, alarmed by the smoke from the fires that Anton and his men had started as barriers against the raiders, the local Barons had arrived with their knights and retainers to investigate. The Dervishes were driven off, and Anton went looking for his nominal commander.
As a commoner Anton did not have the right to challenge the cowardly noble himself. But having seen the catastrophe that had been prevented by Ficks and the abandoned cavalry troopers, and having heard evidence of the shameful retreat from officers and troopers who had bugged out with the nobleman, Baron Ludwig Hess had challenged the faint-hearted nobleman and had designated Anton in his place.
The duel had lasted seconds. With powerful strokes of the scimitar that Anton had used when his own broadsword had shattered during the twelve hours he and his command had stood off the Dervishes, he cut the nobleman down.
After that day he had sworn off the Army, refusing honors and offers of promotion, even some magnanimous offers of some of the Border Barons who recognized his exceeding worth. Instead he shipped out on the first merchant cog that would take a non-sailor aboard as a seamen apprentice: The Wrath of St. Cuthbert.
Ironically he found himself back on land in the same position that he had held in the Army. He was somewhat mollified in that he and Hansel Bruleigh had no intention of letting the Marine Corps become anything like the Army.
Admiral of the Navy, Horatio Kaste, was more interested in a job well done, than in whom actually completed the task. A view also held by Commandant Hansel Bruleigh and his Sergeant Major, Anton Ficks.
"Sergeant Koch was in the brig for fighting and striking an officer." Hansel said, shuffling through the reports until he came to Sergeant Pietr Koch, Naval Detachment-Leukish.
"Yes, and while Sergeant Koch wouldn't comment on the reason for his incarceration, one of the guards did tell me why he had been jailed. The gentleman officer, and I use the term loosely, he struck had been engaged in extorting gold from the lesser tradesmen; if they didn't have the gold he would work out an 'equitable' trade, especially if the tradesman had a pleasant looking wife or daughter."
Hansel frowned and lifted a quill pen, "Which officer is that?"
"Gormat MacKlister, the First Officer on the Gran Marlin. He's still in the infirmary, as the healing spells performed by the Lydians had no effect." Ficks replied, smiling at the poetic justice, "go figure."
Hansel looked down the list, "He's already on the list of suspects, but I'll add the note."
"And about Private Wendsley Tate?" He continued.
"I'll bump her to Corporal. It's long past due, and she's been passed over several times. She's a practitioner of that new martial hand-to-hand form promulgated by the Scions of the Suloise. I've seen it used before. Both it, and she, are impressive."
"Okay, I'll mark them down." Hansel made the notation, "You don't want to keep anymore?"
"If this were just a garrison detail, we could probably keep a few around, but I wouldn't trust my back, or my purse, with any of the rest. Gallows-bait, all of them." Ficks said with a wave.
"I'll cut orders sending them back to their units." Hansel said.
"Horatio agrees with us about starting from scratch," Hansel smiled, "So we're going to do this right. I'm going to start looking for someplace to convert into our headquarters and training camp. That'll give you and your men time to get squared away and figure out how you're going to break in our new recruits."
"Someplace close to the water would be good. We'll need to train them on swimming and naval assault." Ficks said.
"Noted." Hansel replied, "Now, as to pay. We're going to be offering superior wages to those found in the Army or Navy."
"You will start off with five golds a sevenday; your sergeants will start at four golds a sevenday; and your corporals will start off at three golds a sevenday." Hansel read from his ledger, "We'll start the recruits at one gold a sevenday, and after training they'll receive two golds a sevenday."
Anton's eyes widened and he let out a low whistle. The common sailor or trooper received a silver a day, as well as room and board, equating to seven silvers a sevenday. At ten silvers per gold, marine trainees would receive almost half again what a normal serving soldier would receive as pay. After training, marines would receive almost as much as junior cavalry officers received. At five golds a sevenday, Anton was receiving more than most senior cavalry officers received.
"Yes, the pay is high, considering that they're also getting free room and board, even if it is in a military barracks and mess hall." Hansel agreed, "We want to attract the best of the best. This will make it hard on you and your recruiters, as we'll get more recruits than we'll want or need. Take only the cream of the recruits. This is to be an elite force, it is up to you and your cadre to make it so."
"Kord's Teeth, with an offer like that, we'll be able to pick and choose from hundreds of recruits."
"That was the general idea, " Hansel replied with a hard smile. "