"'Ere, now," Patch challenged the old man who'd broken into the conversation. "What'cher mean by that?"
"I mean that I know why's th' treasure's never been found!" he said. He spoke softly, so that the people at the next table couldn't easily hear, but there was still a trace of a triumphant cackle in his voice. "What's more, I know where's it do be now!"
"Well, shiver me timbers!" hissed Scrope, another of the pirates at the table. Morgan showed more sense, to my way of looking at it, giving the old man the sharp glance of the skeptic.
"I doubt that very much. If you know, why hasn't anyone heard about it until now?"
"I'd me reasons, ye feather-capped macaroni. For all too long, there'd be all too many lawful owners, or them as claimed ter be, and all with too good a cause ter stretch me neck fer me ter talk ter them. Y'see, I be th' last o' old Bloodheart Van Dierken's crew, and ye told it true about what them's as were in power thought o' us! Arfter a while, I found meself a wife and family, and it didn't seem so important ter go haring off arfter treasure troves. Now, though, I do be all alone in this world, and it do seem a fine thing ter lay old ghosts ter rest afore I furl me sails fer th' last time."
Hell Mel fixed the old man with a steely glare.
"So ya just decided ta tell us the tale and lead us ta the loot out o' the goodness o' yer heart?"
This made the old man once again break into peals of ragged laughter, going so far as to slap his hand against his thigh with a sharp crack.
"Goodness, ye says? I sailed with Van Dierken, Cap'n Mel. There's not a bit o' goodness left in me. I be doin' this fer money the share that'd be rightfully mine if we'd shared out back then, and forty-five years worth o' interest fer the waitin'."
Jack Hook chuckled.
"Now that makes sense, at least. If the tales are true, Van Dierken always took the dragon's share for himself before splitting out with the crew."
"One-quarter o' th' booty his every time," agreed the old man. "Cap'n Mel be known fer givin' a more equitable split o' th' proceeds, and there's a second reason I've said nothin' all these years. I've grown fond o' this old hide, and I means ter keep it intact. I s'pect ye'd not take th' loot and gully me fer me pains, y'see."
"Trusting sort," Ace murmured.
The point was something of a revelation for me, though, so it stuck in my mind. As the pampered daughter of House de Alkirk, I'd only heard of pirates as criminals, honorless dogs who existed outside all law and order. It hadn't taken long to see that not all of that impression was true the mercy shown to the crew of the Swiftsure, for example but that could have just been good business. This, though, was an unsolicited testimonial to Hell Mel's reputation for fair dealing among other pirates a group of men who'd be as suspicious and untrusting a lot as anyone not involved in professional politics could be.
This knowledge cheered me to no end, I had to admit, for it meant that I had a reasonable chance of making it through this escapade alive and well.
Apparently our new friend found it cheering as well, for he favored us with a broad smile. The ingratiating effect, if that's what he intended, was lost on me, thanks to the mouth full of half-rotted teeth separated by broad gaps which he flashed in my direction. Once again I found that just because something looks like a parody of a classic archetype, it doesn't really make one inclined to laugh when meeting it face-to-face. Thankfully, I was out of range of his breath.
"I overheard ye talkin' amongst yerselves, and when I realized who ye be, and better yet what ye be interested in, well, it was like fate put a chance o' a lifetime in me lap. So what does ye say? Be ye game fer it?"
"Game enough to hear ya out," Mel told him. "If nothing else, it'll get ya a round on me and keep us entertained."
The old man snorted.
"D'ye think Tobias Teach be born yesterday? Ye think ter get th' details, then get th' treasure on yer own."
Mel growled under his breath. I got the idea that he didn't much like being taken for a liar and a cheat no surprise, if he was the kind of man to earn the reputation I'd been thinking of a moment ago. In fact, the rest of the pirates were giving Teach angry looks right along with their captain. Ace, Scrope, Morgan, Patch, a couple I didn't know by name; all of them but Jack.
"What can you expect," that latter said with a shrug. "A man like that paints everyone as crooked as he is."
"Well, if that do be the case, Mr. Teach, I give ya me word o' honor that if we choose ta follow up on any leads ya gives us, and if it leads ta anything, then we'll gives ya five full shares o' the treasure. Now, be ya satisfied, or does ya prefer ta leave us be ta do our drinking in peace?"
Teach broke into another smile.
"Yer word on it be good enough fer me, Cap'n Mel. Everyone says yer be most scrup'lous 'bout keepin' it even if it's not in yer best interests ter do so."
"Good. Make room fer Mr. Teach, boys."
Scrope pushed aside to open a space, with the result that as the pirates shifted around the table in a chain reaction, Ace nearly ended up in my lap. A tankard was shoved in front of the codger and he drank gratefully, wiping his lips on the back of his ragged and stained sleeve.
"It were like this, mateys," he began. "Cap'n Van Dierken was a sharp one. He couldn't keep his money on th' Balthasar, an' it were sure no legitimate financier would take it, so he cached th' loot so's he could come back ter it later. 'Course, that's th' way it is fer half th' pirates in th' Keys and surely every one in stories, so he had ter be sneaky about it. Sneakier, at least, than th' rogues who'd try ter help themselves ter any ill-gotten gains. He picked out an uninhabited island."
"What's new about that?" protested Scrope, who was a tanned specimen with a red headcloth. "Every pirate story in the world has got to have buried treasure on an uncharted isle."
"That's as may be, and I ain't sayin' yer wrong, but that's what he did. One surrounded by rocks and reefs enough ter rip th' bottom out o' any ships that tried ter make their way in. 'Twas a twisty course ter bring a boat safely ashore, but he knew th' way through th' currents ter his own private fortress. No one'd even think o' lookin' there fer anythin'."
"Clever," Mel judged. "Anyone looking fer a pirate lair would expect a harbor fer putting ashore, and it'd take a fair piece o' stubbornness to fight ta shore without some sound reason fer doing it."
"Well, now we know a very sound reason," Ace joked.
"As fer what happened ter th' Balthasar, well, she t'weren't found 'cause she's sleepin' in the Blue Dragon's deep, and not far from th' treasure trove, neither."
"It went down and no one knew about it?"
I admit it, that question was me. Against my better judgment, I was becoming intrigued by the story no, let me be honest, I was positively excited by the prospect of learning the end to the story, especially since it had apparently puzzled people for over twice as long as I'd been alive.
"Y'sees, th' Cap'n had gone ashore in th' longboat ter stow th' treasure, while th' ship stayed off a ways. But while we were waitin' fer him ter finish up, a fire broke out, on account o' Old Tew gettin' drunk and gettin' inter it with th' cook over th' quality o' th' stew near a lit stove. She burned ter th' waterline, and them as didn't perish in th' fire got took by th' current or crushed on th' rocks, 'cept fer me and two others, who made it ter shore. Well, we looks at each other and says, this could be a fine thing arfter all. No one knowed our faces, y'see, and so long as we're not with Van Dierken, then there's no one as wants ter hang us. Moreover, we says, with th' Balthasar on th' bottom o' th' sea, there's not much ter be gained out o' stayin' with him. With that in mind, we decided that we had more use fer his nice, fine boat than he did, and seein' as how he'd gone inland with th' diggin' party he didn't offer a counterin' vote. We got picked up at sea by a passin' ship, and we told them we were survivors o' a wreck, which were Althena's own truth--although I freely admit as how we were not precisely accurate as ter just what wreck."
"You marooned your own captain, and the last survivors of your crew?" I exclaimed in horror, and I wasn't the only one with that reaction. Even pirates, it seemed, had a hierarchy of sins.
"They was all dead men anyway, all but Van Dierken himself, at least!" Teach protested angrily. "Anyone who went ashore with Bloodheart didn't come back, on account of how he liked to keep things private. Th' only exception was First Mate Colvin, the Cap'n's toady. They'd go ashore with prisoners taken from other vessels, to use in th' carryin' and th' diggin', or if there weren't none they'd take th' green'uns as didn't know any better."
I gave myself credit for not actually saying "Dead men tell no tales!" out loud.
"I'd call it justice, then," Mel concluded. "Belated justice fer his crimes."
"I'm just surprised that you didn't hang the bastard from the yardarm long before," Jack said. "Why did you crewmen put up with him?"
I didn't understand the casual way he said it, or the nods of agreement the hook-handed man's statement received from the others. Of course, these were pirates, committing robbery, murder, and kidnapping on the high seas, so what was a little mutiny? But why, I thought, would Mel's pirates expect Van Dierken's crew to mutiny against a man who was apparently the epitome of all the classic horror stories about Meribian Sea piracy?
Even Teach, though, seemed to take it as a reasonable question, for he gave a thoughtful and serious answer.
"There be a few reasons fer that, I think. One's easy; th' man was every bit th' master mariner th' legends say. Knew every coast o' the Meribian like th' back o' his hand, knew th' wind and wave and currents. He brought us prize after prize, and his reputation made sure no one would think o' puttin' up a fight, not against a man who'd made blood and pain his name across all o' Lunar. He made us rich men, made us feared men, me, a lousy piece of dockyard scum, became part o' somethin' big and powerful." His voice trembled faintly, with long-suppressed emotion at what had been and no longer was. "And... he was Van Dierken. Any one o' us raised a hand against him, he'd cut us down without a thought. If it t'weren't one and all, hangin' would be a happy way ter go, by comparison." Teach bobbed his head slowly on his long, spindly neck. "He had us scared but good, that devil, and in th' end he gave us nothin' but death at sea or memories instead o' gold ter warm us at night."
He raised his head, and his gaze swept the table to look at all of us.
"Now, I'm goin' ter go back ter that isle and spit in his grave, and then I'll go off with well more than my fair share fer bein' th' last one left, now that Rummy Bill and Dirk have gone ter their rest if ye'll lend me yer strong backs and strong heads ter th' quest."
I'll give the man this: he knew how to get an audience. Honestly, I'd half forgotten what I was doing there and was ready to hare off in search of the lost Cape Matapan treasure--although, I was soon brought back to ground when a gust in the chimney caused the airflow to shift and a fresh wave of stench to assault my nostrils, it being quite difficult to dream while gagging.
"It could have happened the way he tells it," Morgan offered. "No one found the ship because it was already destroyed by the time the hunters started after in. Van Dierken and Colvin were marooned on the island, and no one would have looked for them in a hard-to-reach place without settlements. All the other officers were dead but not at anyone's hand that would be telling about it."
"All of 'em vanished off the face of Lunar," Scrope agreed.
"Yeah, it could've been that way," Mel weighed in.
"Thank ye much, Cap'n."
"That doesn't mean it actually did happen that way," the half-beastman quickly reversed course. "Each o' us here could think up a story just as good as yers be, and with all the same amount o' proof: none. Even Miss Amelie could, I'll wager."
"No," Ace opined, "she's still sober. You need to be at least one sheet to the wind to make up sea stories."
"Do you truly believe, Mr. Ace, that I would drink anything served in this filthy den?" I asked archly.
"Oh, you'd be surprised what's served here. Some days the drinks will strike you blind, and others you'll sample Tamur stout or the finest Reza brandy. It all varies with the source of supply, you see."
In other words, what the tavern's pirate suppliers could steal.
"So's ya see how it is, Teach," Mel cut through our asides. "Ya may be handing us an easy fortune, or just telling a tale that's more rum than fact. Moreover, we've got other business" --he sent a sharp glance in my direction, as if to remind the others that I wasn't just there to improve the decorations-- "to finish afore we be starting in on the new."
The old man sighed heavily and scratched at his thinning whiskers.
"Well, I can't fault ye fer feelin' that way, Cap'n, and I do thinks ye've treated me gentleman-like, hearin' me out and standin' me ter a drink. Just remember that me offer's open fer now, but not ferever. There do be other fish in th' sea if ye takes me meanin'."
"It do be hard ta misunderstand, and be sure we'll be keeping it in mind until the time comes."
There being little else to say, Teach rose from his seat and hobbled to the door, leaning heavily on a twisted crutch carved from weathered driftwood, a pitiable figure and yet by his own words an unrepentant participant in some of the most vicious acts ever committed at sea in this age.
"D'ye think that was smart, Cap'n?" Patch asked. "Arr, the Cape Matapan treasure's not a prize I'd be keen on missin' if it t'were in our reach."
"Bilgewater, all of it," Scrope decided scornfully. "The old fool's just crazy, or else he's a good storyteller who let his tongue win him a free drink."
"The Cap'n's right," Jack Hook said. "Whether Teach is a liar, a braggart, or telling Althena's holy truth, we've got one affair on our plates already. Two major undertakings at once is juggling too many potential problems."
One of the men who's name I didn't know leaned forward to argue the point, and it proved to be the worst idea of his life. It was also the last decision of his life, because it moved his head directly between Hell Mel and the crossbow bolt that came hurtling out of the corner of the tavern. Even as he hit the table, spilling drinks and plates of food, the rest of the pirates were leaping to their feet, cursing and reaching for weapons, and six masked men seemed to materialize out of the rest of the clientele, tossing aside hooded cloaks as they emerged from different parts of the tavern.
Every one of them had their gazes fixed squarely on our table.