Chapter 74: Book 1: Chapter 26 (Part 3 of 3)

Ten hours later and night would soon be falling.

After inspecting the Dockyard and Markets we had returned to the stronghold and walked through its marbled buildings for over an hour. The place was huge, a true palace and had hundreds of rooms and antechambers. We found the master suite which I took for myself, though it was sparsely decorated and the bed that was present, while large, didn’t have the same appeal as the one I owned on the Marena’s Mercy.

I let the ladies pick out rooms on the same floor as me, but I planned on us staying on the ship for the time being. Paradoxically the Palace and the stronghold which surrounded it were too large to be adequately defended with our current numbers. So, we closed and locked the doors behind us, raised the drawbridge and locked down both Gatehouses.

Then we visited the podium for some supplies and ventured out beyond Stormblade Harbour’s current limits.

What we picked up from the podium were settlement flags which we could use to claim more land for Stormblade Harbour and work towards completing my quest to control the whole of Beaver Island.

Although completing the Corsair’s Canon four had granted me ownership of all unclaimed property on the island, there wasn’t a lot of that outside of the settlement’s limits. Most of the island was state-owned, not private, and as such, I would need to plant the flags I’d bought and usurp the land from that ‘faction’ so to speak.

We’d gone to the Northwest part of the island, skirting Font Lake which had indeed intersected with the moat of my stronghold and filled it. There had been a few homes dotted around on this part of the island and I thought this would be the best place to start the process of expanding my domain.

Quixbix had reluctantly explained the process to me. His preference had been that we crack on with raiding and work towards completing the Corsair’s Canon five, but I stuck to my guns and eventually, he caved.

We had to plant the flags on land claimed by another and then remain nearby as the flag’s influence expanded outward and began the conversion.

Exactly how much land each planted flag claimed wasn’t fully revealed until the process had finished. Which was a pain in the ass, but it’s how it worked and there was no way around it.

Apparently, the time it took to complete had several dependencies, including how long the land had been in the possession of the other party, their faction’s strength relative to yours and the proximity of them or any of their representatives.

As a dungeon, Anastasia couldn’t plant a flag, but Shana and Jackson could on my behalf as part of my crew.

We ended up having to abandon the separate beacon plan almost immediately. The timer for Shana and Jackson both read as infinite and even mine read that it would take more than a week to complete. When the two of them returned to my position the timer reduced to six hours and we waited it out.

During the time that we waited, we came under assault twice from low-grade groups of mobs. Pestilence monkeys. They were vile creatures with scabbed and mangy fur, and they literally flung their diseased shit at us.

They weren’t very hardy, but they were mobile little pests whose disgusting attack sickened all concerned. Fortunately, the lake was nearby to assist in cleaning off their foulness the few times one of us was hit. About the only real benefit from the encounters was that it essentially confirmed there had to be a spawning crystal for them on this part of the island.

The timer flashed to zero not long before sunset.

“Quixbix, how much land did that get us?” I asked the imp eagerly.

<Have you braced yourself? This will likely knock your socks off> my imp teased.

“I can check this myself you know,” I sighed.

<Whatever. You have secured roughly a five-metre radius from the point of insertion> he relayed, with barely repressed laughter.

“A five-metre radius!” I yelled. “After six fucking hours, and being pelted with monkey shit, that is all we got.”

<I’m afraid so> he answered not even bothering to hold in his laughter this time.

“You bloody knew this would happen, didn’t you?” I growled at him.

<I did. Taking land from established factions is a slow and laborious process. By my calculations at this rate, if you did nothing else all day, every day, you should claim the rest of the island in about two hundred and eighty years. The hilarity of the shit-flinging monkeys was an unexpected bonus, though. I did tell you we should have gone raiding> he snarked.

“This was not helpful, Quixbix,” Shana admonished the imp angrily. “I got their faeces in my hair twice. You should have told us how little land we would get doing it this way.”

<This was way funner, though. For me at any rate. Also, practical lessons often work best> he opined.

“Fine. Point taken. We are heading back,” I ordered the group in a very foul mood.

A mood shared by most of the group, barring my smug quest imp.

Everybody, including Quixbix, had the common sense not to poke the bear as we trudged back to the ship.

 

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A few hours later and we had finished up eating our evening meal in the mess on the ship. After we had all bathed, thoroughly, of course.

Jackson and Anastasia were cleaning the dishes. Ana doing so reluctantly, but she didn’t make me order her, which was unusual. She was probably up to something related to our conversation in the Slave Market earlier today.

Shana and I were sharing a bottle of red wine we had recovered from one of the bars. I’d used the drudgery of looting the former town’s surviving buildings to help calm me after I had cleaned up. Although seeing as I now owned all the buildings, it wasn’t really looting, more like collecting.

“Quixbix,” I addressed the imp for the first time since we returned. “As the beacon plan was a bust what else can we do to secure the island?”

<This again> he groused in my ear. <I thought we were past this after the poop monkeys. We should be out there, hitting the coastal villages and building our reputation.>

“It may have escaped your attention but there are only four of us, Quix. I need to build a crew first, probably using the Slave Market. And as you haven’t said shit about anybody becoming available, I’m assuming that hasn’t happened yet,” I explained to him patiently, burying the kernel of my anger at him semi-successfully.

<But…> he started

“No buts, Quix,” I interrupted. “I’m not going out and attacking random settlements with four people. We might, and I stress might, start scouting the coastline in the morning for potential targets. But I’m not making any kind of a move without a plan. Therefore, in the meantime, what can we do to secure the situation here?”

<Fine. I suppose formulating a plan is the kind of forward-thinking successful captains do> Quixbix conceded. <As for claiming the island your choices are limited. Most of the land is registered as belonging to the state of Michigan. You either must build the strength of your faction, the Shattered Storm, or wait for the influence of Michigan as a recognised faction to wane or even fall, which could happen if its leaders perish. That will make claiming the land quicker and if Michigan is disbanded entirely, probably automatic, assuming nobody else is present to contest the transfer.>

“That’s it. Grow strong or hope Michigan State falls?” I pressed him.

<Yes, unless you can find the leader of Michigan State…> the imp said.

“The Governor?” I interjected with sudden excitement.

<Yeah, the Governor. If you can hunt him down, then you can force him to give you the land> Quixbix replied.

“That is hopeless,” Shana complained and slumped onto the table uncharacteristically. “Tricky Dicky mark two could be anywhere.”

I rubbed her shoulders to comfort her. The incident with the Pestilence Monkeys must have upset her more than I thought. When my hands gripped close to her neck she moaned happily.

“Hmmm, maybe,” I mused. “However, I happen to know where he was at the moment of integration and with any luck, he might still be there.”

Shana’s eyes shot up from the table and she turned to look at me. “You do? How would you know where the Governor was? I mean he could be in Lansing; it is the state capital, but everyone knows he is off gallivanting more often than doing any actual work.”

“Simple,” I explained. “Just before the lights went out there was a news report on his latest brush with infidelity. The reporter claimed he was holed up in the Governor’s summer residence on Mackinac Island. With any luck, he still is.”

Jackson and Anastasia had finished the washing up and were sauntering over to us. Well, Anastasia was sauntering, my earlier prediction of her upping the flirty ante coming to pass. Jackson was following in her wake trying to hide that he was watching her ass sway. I couldn’t blame him; she had a very shapely and curvy ass, and he was a teenager. Anastasia was well aware of what she was doing.

Of course, if he reached out and touched her swaying butt, I’d have to cut his hands off, but Jackson didn’t strike me as the dumbass creepy type.

I did say people were complex and contradictory, which includes me. I might be patient and willing to wait for Anastasia to choose to be with me but that didn’t preclude me from feeling possessive towards her anyway.

Had she not been into me I may have felt differently, then again, maybe not.

To be on the safe side, I made a mental note to see what we could do about getting young Jackson a girlfriend of some sort and keep him apart from Ana in the immediate future to minimise any damage the minx could do as she pushed the boundaries.

I knew Anastasia had no genuine interest in him. Jackson was most definitely not her type, but I didn’t want him getting hurt if she took testing the veracity of my word too far.

A no-handed sorcerer isn’t much use to anybody.

I waited for Anastasia to sit down opposite us and then gestured for Jackson to sit on my other side. Ana’s lips tugged upwards with a triumphant smirk at my less than subtle reaction.

I ignored her smuggery and outlined the strategy for tomorrow. “Crew, we have a plan of action. At first light I want us to set sail for Mackinac Island. Ana, how long will it take us to get there without burning any of your surplus energy?”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, and her eyelids flickered. “It’s mostly open water, so a couple of hours. Three tops,” she replied.

“Why are we going to Mackinac?” Jackson asked.

“I’m looking to have a word with our beloved Governor.” I grinned.

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