The Otohime's Revenge
Part Two
It was midmorning the next day when the shout went up from the crow's nest that a sail had been spotted on the horizon. They sent Dan scrambling for Yuuta, and the crew—Saeki with them—went tense on the deck, alert and poised to pile on more sail and run. Saeki looked up at their colors—still the skull and crossbones of a pirate ship—and prayed that the sail didn't belong to one of the navy's ships.
"She's coming about," Sengoku yelled down to them, as Yuuta strode on deck. "Looks like the navy, Captain!"
The rest of them were moving almost before Yuuta called the orders to add more sail and bring their heading about, and the Heron surged ahead in the waters as the wind filled her sails.
Yuuta stood on her deck, calm amid the chaos and shouting of his crew; Saeki couldn't help but respect his nerve, especially as the navy's ship closed the distance, slowly to be sure, but steadily enough that by mid-afternoon, Sengoku yelled down, "The Dragonfly, Captain!"
Next to Saeki, Davide groaned. "We're in for it now."
"Why?" Saeki asked, a cold chill of sweat washing down his spine. The navy hanged pirates.
"Captain's got a history with the Dragonfly," Davide grunted.
"Save your breath," Bane put in. "You're going to need it."
He was right; the next few hours were grueling as they made the fullest possible use of the wind, trying to outrun the other ship—sometimes drawing ahead, sometimes not, until late in the day, when Yuuta laughed, and called for them to haul in the sail.
"Is he crazy?" Saeki, drenched in sweat, demanded of Davide.
"He's a lunatic," Davide agreed, cheerfully, hauling on a rope.
Saeki stared at him, baffled, until Shishido shouted at him to get moving.
The billowing canvas was got under control in short order, and their momentum slowed dramatically. It wasn't long before the Dragonfly was close enough that the activity on her decks was clearly visible.
Yuuta dropped down to the main deck. "Raise our colors," he called, grinning like a madman as his crew leaned on barrels and over the rails, panting. "Weigh anchor!"
"Aye, Captain!"
"What in the hell good is that going to do?" Saeki asked, bewildered, as they lowered the pirate flag and changed it for the royal flag.
Davide laughed at him. "You'll see."
The Dragonfly drew alongside them, decks swarming with sailors. "Prepare to be boarded!" came the cry, and Saeki watched in disbelief as Akutsu and Bane helped maneuver the plank into place, while Yuuta stood back, arms folded across his chest.
The Dragonfly's captain was the first across, grinning just as broadly as Yuuta himself. "It's not like you to give up so easily," he said.
"Just showing respect for my elders," Yuuta snorted, and pulled him into a rough embrace. "You're slowing down in your old age, Shuusuke."
"Bite your tongue," the other captain retorted, "or I'll give you the thrashing you deserve."
"You'll do no such thing," Yuuta said, grinning. "Will you take supper with me tonight?"
"Of course not. It's my turn to play host," the other captain said. "My cook's been in his galley since this morning, in anticipation." He clapped Yuuta on the shoulder. "Come along, and bring Shishido with you. It's been too long since I've seen him scowling at me."
Yuuta grinned. "What, aren't you afraid he'll spoil the meal?" He gestured at Shishido, who was glaring at the other captain fiercely. "Actually, I have another guest, too, if your cook won't object?"
"The more the merrier," the Dragonfly's captain said.
"Glad to hear it." Yuuta turned away from him. "Davide, you have the helm. Sae, grab your gear, you're eating with us tonight."
Saeki gaped at him. "...what gear?" he managed, finally. "I don't have any—" Although he supposed that if he counted Tachibana's belongings—
"Grab what you have," Yuuta repeated, while the Dragonfly's captain looked at him with sharp, curious eyes. Yuuta raised an eyebrow as Saeki hesitated. "Now, perhaps?"
Saeki scrambled down to the crew's quarters to retrieve the meager handful of his belongings, and back up to the deck, where the Heron's crew had dispersed, and the two captains and Shishido waited for him. The Dragonfly's captain escorted them over to the other ship, and conducted them to the stateroom, where a collection of officers waited for them, and dinner was already laid out for them. "I believe some introductions are in order, Yuuta?" he asked, while a place was made for Saeki.
Yuuta's mouth quirked. "I suppose." He gestured at Saeki. "This is Saeki. We happened upon the wreckage of his ship and fished him out." He looked at Saeki, and his expression was shuttered as he made the next set of introductions. "This is Fuji, captain of the Dragonfly."
He continued on with his introductions, naming the other officers with the ease of long familiarity, but Saeki didn't hear them over the roaring of the blood in his ears. Fuji. Fuji Shuusuke, whose wife's portrait was in the box in his arms. He looked to Yuuta, who gave him the barest fraction of a nod.
"I'm sorry for your misfortune," Fuji told him, eyes sharp and curious. He looked at Yuuta. "And I trust you didn't bring him along for casual reasons, Yuuta?"
"Business can wait until after we've eaten," Yuuta told him. "Let's not offend your cook by failing to appreciate his hard work."
Fuji frowned, but nodded. "Fair enough," he agreed.
An extra chair had been found for Saeki, and an extra place setting, and he quickly found himself seated between Shishido and one of Fuji's officers, surveying more cutlery than he knew what to do with. Fuji and Yuuta struck up a lively conversation about the chase the Heron had led the Dragonfly on, and whether Yuuta would have outrun Fuji or not.
At least, Saeki brooded, he understood why Yuuta would have brought him along for this meeting (although why a navy captain should be so friendly with a smuggler, he didn't know, and with his luck, he wasn't likely to find out), although he wasn't looking forward to the prospect of telling Fuji what had happened to his brother-in-law.
The meal dragged on, and on—the Dragonfly's cook apparently had put a great deal of effort into it, and none of the officers seemed inclined to rush as they laughed and talked around him. Even Shishido relaxed his frown enough to exchange words with his neighbor while Saeki picked at his food, wholly out of place and dreading what was to come. Eventually, though, the plates were cleared away, and Fuji leaned back in his chair. "So," he said. "To business."
"To business," Yuuta agreed. He reached into his coat and produced a portfolio. "I had hoped to give you a better report than this." He slid it across the table.
Fuji tapped his fingers on the leather. "Has it been bad?"
"The past two weeks have been hell," Yuuta said, blunt. "I lost three men to a storm, and we took more damage than I would have liked." Yuuta glanced down the table, eyes flicking over Saeki, and then he looked back to Fuji. "And I mean to take the Iron Rose." He said it flatly, mouth set in a stubborn line.
Silence greeted his declaration, until the officer to Saeki's immediate left snorted. "When you overreach yourself, you don't do it by halves," he drawled. "Stick with running rum and spying, and leave Yukimura to those who can handle him."
"No. Not this time." Yuuta's voice was cold. "I've handed Yukimura to the navy three times now, and he's slipped through your fingers each time. I'm not going to let you botch it again."
"Yuuta, I know how you feel about Yukimura—" Fuji began.
"Shuusuke, he got Kippei," Yuuta snarled, and pointed at Saeki. "He was the Otohime's first mate."
Fuji's face went white. "No."
Saeki pushed his chair back from the table, and reached under it for Tachibana's box before walking the few feet around the table to lay it in Fuji's hands. "I'm sorry," he said, into the stillness of the room.
Fuji looked at the box, and stroked his fingers over the polished grain as Saeki made his way back to his seat. "What," he said, softly, "am I going to tell Ann?"
"You're going to tell her that I'm going to give her Yukimura's head on a platter," Yuuta said. "And if I have to sail to hell and back to do it, I will."
Fuji looked up. "You'll do no such thing," he snapped. "I've already lost one brother to him, Yuuta. I'm not going to let him take you from me as well."
Saeki stared, as the final bit of the puzzle clicked into place.
"I am tired of losing people to him, Shuusuke," Yuuta hissed. "And if you won't help me, then I'll do it myself."
"I'll order you not to," Shuusuke retorted, eyes glittering blue and hard. "I still outrank you, little brother—"
"Then I'll resign," Yuuta said, calmly, "and if you can catch me, you can hang me for treason, or for smuggling, or anything you damn well please, and I'll laugh my way to hell, knowing that Yukimura'll be there to greet me."
One of Fuji's officers cleared his throat. "Are you that willing to throw away the lives of your men?"
"My men all know what they signed up for, Kikumaru," Yuuta snapped. He smiled, brief and humorless. "But I'll be sure to remind them. I wouldn't drag any man into this against his will."
"Damn it, Yuuta—"
Yuuta cut his brother off, again. "You've never managed to out-stubborn me, Shuusuke," he said. "Not once."
Fuji stared at him for a long moment. "No," he said, finally, heavily. "I haven't." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "For God's sake, tell me that you have a plan, at least?"
Yuuta's smile was quick, and fierce. "Oh," he said. "I've got plans."
There were arguments, of course. Fuji's officers were not nearly as insane as Yuuta, nor as willing to indulge that insanity as Fuji. Yuuta laid out his plans for them, and calmly countered their objections. Saeki, forgotten amid the debate, admired the thought Yuuta had obviously put into the matter. Nothing that Fuji or his officers threw at him fazed him. Watching the argument, Saeki was reminded of a street preacher he'd seen once—Yuuta's eyes burned with the same sort of zeal that man had possessed.
The arguments wore on, and on, until Yuuta—who was every bit as stubborn as he had claimed to be—wore his opponents down, either into accepting his schemes or into simply giving up. At length, Fuji's first mate, the last hold-out, sighed, and looked at his captain. "There is going to be hell to pay if the commodore hears about this."
"Let me be the one to worry about Tezuka, Oshitari," Fuji said. His smile was crooked. "He's had his own dealings with Yukimura. He might not be as opposed to this as you'd expect."
"On your own head be it," Oshitari muttered, throwing up his hands. "You're all mad."
"It runs in the family," Yuuta said, and sat back with a satisfied smile.
"I wouldn't let Mother catch you saying that," Fuji muttered. He rubbed his eyes. "Gentlemen, I propose that we adjourn for the evening."
"Thank God," Kikumaru groaned, hauling himself to his feet and stretching.
Saeki sighed as he stood as well, ready to make his way back to the Heron as Fuji's officers filed out of the cabin to seek their berths.
"Stay a moment, Saeki," Yuuta said. "Shishido, I'll be just a bit longer."
"Aye, Captain," Shishido said, and dipped his head to Saeki before ducking out into the night.
"This can't wait, Yuuta?" Fuji asked, wearily.
"Be patient with me for just a bit longer." Yuuta's smile was tired. "I'm afraid I pressed Saeki here into serving on my ship. He's a bit too honest to make a good smuggler, but he's a good sailor. Can you find a spot for him in your crew? You'll see more upstanding ports than I will, and sooner, and he's interested in finding another ship to serve on."
Fuji turned his eyes to Saeki; they were still sharp, even with the lines that weariness and grief had etched around them. "Of course," he said. "That won't be difficult at all."
"Thank you, Shuusuke." Yuuta stood, and stretched his back. "Now that that's settled—"
Saeki cleared his throat. "I'd prefer to remain on the Heron," he said.
Yuuta stared at him. "You would?" he asked, blankly.
"You want a crew that knows what it's signing on for," Saeki said, after a moment's hesitation. "I know as well as anyone else what you're proposing to do. I'll help. If you'll have me."
A frown wrinkled Yuuta's forehead. "...all right," he said. "I'd be a fool to turn down an offer like that. Shuusuke, I apologize for your time."
"It's nothing, Yuuta." Fuji shrugged. "Now. I'd like to get some sleep this evening."
Yuuta nodded. "Of course."
Fuji saw them back to the deck, where Shishido and a sailor waited, huddled in a circle of lantern light. Saeki joined Shishido while the brothers said their goodnights.
"You're coming with us?" Shishido murmured, lifting an eyebrow at him.
"Of course I am," Saeki said.
"Huh. I thought you'd stay." Shishido shrugged, as Yuuta joined them, and Fuji took the lantern from the sailor to light their way as they clambered down a rope ladder to the longboat below.
"He volunteered," Yuuta grunted, as they arranged themselves in the boat and the sailor took up the oars, pushing them away from the Dragonfly and pointing them at the dark bulk of the Heron, moored a short distance away.
Shishido's laugh barked through the darkness, short and rough over the splash of the oars. "Funny, he didn't strike me as the crazy sort."
"I'm just full of surprises," Saeki told him.
"Then you'll fit in, just fine," Shishido said, comfortably, and the rest of their passage back to the Heron passed in silence.
Yuuta and Shishido returned to the Dragonfly first thing the next morning, leaving the crew to work at odd jobs around the ship, and did not return until the middle of the afternoon, with Fuji and three of his sailors in tow. The first thing Yuuta did was call for all hands to gather on the main deck, while Fuji and his men stood a little apart, watching.
The Heron's sailors arranged themselves on the deck, and Yuuta paced back and forth in front of them, looking them over. "If you want to leave my crew," he said, stopping and folding his arms, "now's a good time to do it." He gestured at his brother. "The Dragonfly'll take you, and you'll be free to find another crew the next time they put into port. I'll settle up with you, and I won't ask any questions, or think any worse of you if you go." He paused. "Anyone?"
No one said anything, although there was the rustle of men shifting on their feet and casting puzzled glances at Yuuta, at Shishido (whose face gave nothing away), and at each other.
Yuuta waited. "No one?" Again, no one answered. "I'm touched." He resumed pacing, stalking along the straggling line of them and back again. "You all know what happened to the Otohime by now," he said, abruptly. "You all remember what happened to the Mercury."
A ripple ran through the crowd of them, at that. Saeki didn't recognize the other ship that Yuuta had named, but the rest of the crew seemed to, judging by the muttering.
Yuuta waited for their reaction to subside. "You remember, two summers ago, the first time we had Yukimura pinned down, and how Kuki ignore us, and let him get away?" His crew muttered louder; Yuuta lifted his voice, cutting through the muttering. "And that winter, when we gave the Rose to Atobe, and how the navy lost Yukimura, and damn near lost the Adonis, too?" The muttering was turning into darker, angrier. "And last fall, how even Tezuka and the Polaris managed to let a sure thing slip away?" The muttering turned to outright growls. "I'm not going to let it happen again."
Sengoku snorted. "With all due respect, Captain, how do you plan to do that?" He waved a hand, the careless gesture including Fuji and his men and the Dragonfly. "The navy can't pour piss out of a boot when the instructions are written on the heel."
Fuji covered his mouth with his hand, ostensibly coughing, while the tallest of the sailors he'd brought with him drew himself up, an angry flush spreading over his cheeks at the guffaws greeting Sengoku's assessment.
Yuuta intervened before trouble could break out. "I don't intend to rely on the navy to do it this time," he said. "I mean to take Yukimura myself."
The crew went silent at that announcement, and for several moments, the only sound was the creaking of the ship as she rocked in the water.
"This isn't what you signed on with me for," Yuuta began, after he'd granted them a moment to digest what he'd said.
"You're damn right it isn't," Akutsu said, scowling. "What in the hell are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking Yukimura's been let to do as he pleases for too long," Yuuta told him. "And I think I'm tired of seeing my hard work and yours go for nothing." He spread his hands. "But I won't ask anyone to risk his life for this. If you want to leave, leave. Shuusuke's got a berth for every one of you, if it comes to that, and I'll sail this ship myself and find a crew that's just as crazy as I am, if that's what it takes to get the Rose." He shrugged. "But if you stay, I'd be glad to have you."
The crew muttered, unhappily; Saeki caught the words 'crazy bastard' and 'yeah, but the Mercury—' among the dozen whispered conversations.
"One last thing, and then I'll let you decide," Yuuta said. "Anyone who stays gets paid double, starting today, until we get Yukimura. When we get him, there'll be a bonus for each one of you—three months' double pay. And I'll give the man who kills Yukimura a year's double pay."
The tenor of the crew's muttering changed, again, until Yanagisawa spoke up. "A dead man can't spend money, no matter how much he has."
Yuuta shrugged. "A good point. That's why I'm leaving it up to you boys to decide what you want to do." He stepped back, and gestured. "All right. Who's in?"
Shishido moved to stand next to him, face set and grim, while Fuji tilted his head at the sailors who'd accompanied him from the Dragonfly. The tall one and the spiky-haired one detached themselves from that little group, and joined Yuuta and Shishido.
Saeki sighed, and nudged his way past Sengoku and Muromachi, and crossed the little clear space between the two sets of the Heron's sailors. "I'm in," he said.
"I appreciate it," Yuuta murmured. This close, it was easy to see the strain in the lines around his mouth. He looked past Saeki to the bulk of his crew.
"Aw, hell, Captain. I've been sailing with you for too long to stop now." Davide strode across the deck to join them, and looked back. "Bane, you aren't going to miss out on this, are you?"
"'Course not." Bane shook his head as he ambled over to them. "Gotta have something to tell the grandkids about."
"You're both insane," Yanagisawa said, flatly. "You're not going to last long enough to have kids, let alone—"
"'Scuse me." Dan pushed past him, and crossed the deck. "If you're going to kill Yukimura, then I'm going with you, Captain."
"Thank you, Dan," Yuuta said gravely, while Bane reached over to ruffle the cabin boy's hair.
Akutsu stomped across the deck, glaring the whole way. "Damn it, kid," he growled, in response to Dan's sunny smile.
That left the group of them facing twelve sailors who wore a range of varying expressions. "Well?" Yuuta said, after a moment, when no one else had moved to join them.
"Was that triple pay you said, Captain?" Sengoku drawled.
Yuuta folded his arms. "Double pay, Sengoku," he retorted.
"Hm. Not even for the lucky?" Sengoku's smile was careless, despite the intent expression in his eyes.
"Smuggling rum isn't that lucrative, even for me. Not even for the lucky, Sengoku."
"Hmmm..." Sengoku tapped his chin. "I suppose it's not."
Yuuta waited while Sengoku mulled it over, until he lost patience and blew out a breath, exasperated. "Are you staying or going?"
Sengoku grinned. "I can't decide." He nudged his neighbor. "Oi, Touji. Lend me a penny, will you?"
Muromachi grumbled, and found a coin for him. Sengoku smiled, and flipped it into the air. He slapped it down against the back of his hand. Without looking at it, he said, "Call it, Captain."
"Heads," Yuuta said, evenly.
Sengoku lifted his hand to peek at the coin, and his smile got wide. "Ah," he said. "Looks like the lucky's with you today, Captain." He tucked the coin away and sauntered over to join them.
"Looks like it." Yuuta's tone was dry, but he smiled, faintly, as the little knot of Sengoku's superstitious cabal crossed the deck to join him. He looked to the cluster of men remaining behind. "Well, boys?"
Yanagisawa straightened his shoulders, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Captain. Not this time."
"I understand," Yuuta said, quietly. "Kisarazu?"
Kisarazu hesitated. "I have a fiancée," he said, softly. "I can't, Captain."
"I can't blame you for it," Yuuta murmured, and looked to the last man. "Nomura? You're the best cook this ship has had. Don't know if I can replace you."
"You flatter me, Captain." Nomura wavered, twisting his fingers together. "I... I'm in." He darted over to join the rest of them, leaving Yanagisawa and Kisarazu standing alone.
Yuuta nodded. "All right. Thank you." He clapped his hands. "Shishido, see to it that everyone gets a double portion of rum tonight."
"Aye, Captain," Shishido said, over the din of the cheering.
Yuuta's mouth quirked. "Settle the new ones in, Shishido. Yanagisawa, Kisarazu. Over here. The rest of you, back to work."
The crew dispersed to their various duties, talking in low voices, as Yuuta and Fuji converged on Yanagisawa and Kisarazu.
"'S'pose I can't blame them," Davide murmured to Saeki. "Yanagisawa's not one for fighting. Never has been. And if I had a pretty girl waiting in port for me... eh. I'd be reluctant, too." He sighed. "But a chance to get the Rose..."
"Mm," Saeki said, settling himself and picking up the sail he'd been mending. "So you've been chasing Yukimura for a while."
"Going on three years," Bane put in. "Yukimura's a tricky bastard. And Sengoku's right. The navy has fucked up every chance we've given them."
"Tch." Davide spat over the rail at that.
Saeki considered his sail. "What happened to the Mercury?"
Davide and Bane exchanged looks. "The Mercury was like us," Davide said, finally. "Did a little smuggling, did a lot of spying, kept an eye on what was going on and sometimes gave a nod to the navy when Mizuki got wind of where a pirate might be found. But word got out, what she was. And Yukimura, well. He's been known to do a spot of privateering, from time to time. If it suits him."
"And his crew boasts, sometimes," Bane added. He looked away. "Word was that the Mercury didn't go down easy. Or well. And that Yukimura and his crew were paid well to make sure that it happened that way."
"They play with their food," Davide said, biting off the words. "Bastards."
"It doesn't matter. It's getting a shot at them now—that's what matters," Bane said, with a dark smile.
"Saeki!" a call from further up the deck interrupted the conversation. "My cabin, now." Yuuta turned away before seeing whether his order would be obeyed.
Davide and Bane shrugged at him, so Saeki put his sail back down, and went to see what the captain wanted. "Sir?" he asked, sliding the cabin's door shut behind him.
Yuuta was standing with his back to the door, staring out the windows at the water, and Fuji had the chair by his desk. "Shuusuke would like to hear what happened to the Otohime from you."
"Oh. Of course." Saeki looked at Fuji, and marshaled his thoughts before launching into his account of the Otohime's last minutes. It was still painful, and brief; the short time since had done nothing to ease the pain of having lost his ship.
Fuji listened, still and attentive, and nodded his thanks when Saeki finished. "It is good to hear it," he said. "Ann will appreciate—" his mouth twisted "—the details. Thank you."
"I'm sorry I can't tell you more," Saeki said, helplessly.
"Don't be. You told us what happened. If you hadn't survived, we would have been left to wonder what had happened to Kippei." Fuji sighed. "Knowing is... small comfort, but it is comfort nonetheless."
"Revenge is the most comfort of all, Shuusuke," Yuuta said, without turning. "Thank you, Saeki. You may go. Tell Nomura Shuusuke will be eating with me this evening."
"Aye, Captain." Saeki nodded to Fuji, and went to do as Yuuta had ordered.
Part Three
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