Merchants and Pirates

"If you don't want to die, move faster! Throw all these ballast stones into the sea! If those damned pirates catch us, we're all finished."

A bearded middle-aged man in his fifties stood on the deck, shouting at the busy sailors.

From his attire and the commanding air with which he gave orders, it was easy to tell that he was the ship's captain.

The sailors being shouted at had no time to care about their captain's terrible attitude.

One after another, they strained with all their might to haul the heavy ballast stones up from the lowest hold, then quickly hurl them into the sea.

Because the sailors all knew that the old captain was right.

If the pirates behind them caught up, the few men aboard their own ship would likely be cut down within minutes.

What was more, most sailors on a merchant vessel were merely laborers and had never learned how to fight.

Unfortunately, the ship's shape and construction meant that even if they threw overboard every last ballast stone, cargo crate, and supply, they still could not outrun a warship—or rather, a pirate ship—modified specifically for pursuit and combat.

The distance between the two vessels continued to shrink.

Before long, the ship's owner, a merchant around thirty from Athkatla, the capital of the northern Amnian Empire, could no longer sit still.

He lowered the expensive spyglass in his hand, strode quickly to the old captain's side, and asked in a slightly trembling voice, "Bass, are we finished? What will those pirates do once they catch us? Kill everyone? Or imprison us and demand a ransom?"

"I don't know. That depends on which faction the pirates belong to, and whether their leader is human," the old captain called Bass replied with a bitter smile.

Gulp!

Upon hearing this, the merchant instinctively swallowed. "I... I think I saw Half-Orcs, Hobgoblins, and Trolls on the pirates' deck just now."

"What? Hobgoblins and Trolls?" The old captain's mouth fell open in shock, then he began cursing through gritted teeth. "Damn it! How could we be this unlucky? That must be Bloodhand Harlett's ship! Only he can control and command those immensely strong, dim-witted Trolls."

"Bloodhand Harlett?"

The merchant could not help shuddering when he heard that name.

Any merchant who transported goods by sea around the Sea of Swords knew of that infamous pirate captain.

It was said that he had once been the son of a noble from the Kingdom of Tethyr.

Later, for unknown reasons, he had been exiled and eventually become a brutal pirate.

But unlike ordinary pirates who merely plundered wealth,

this man, in addition to robbing riches, also enjoyed involving himself in matters of conspiracy and betrayal.

For example, he would accept commissions from a certain noble or an heir to a trading company to intercept a designated target at sea.

The targets were usually the client's parents, uncles, husbands, wives, siblings, and so on.

Once those people disappeared, the client could immediately inherit estates, titles, trading companies, and staggering Legacies.

After completing the job, Harlett would not immediately kill the captives.

Instead, he would take them back, imprison them, and demand that the client fulfill the payment or promise previously offered.

The exorbitant price was often nearly all the savings within a noble's territory, or half the assets of a trading company.

If the client had no intention of honoring the agreement, Harlett would make a similar deal with the imprisoned captives and help them reclaim everything they had lost.

As revenge, the pirate captain would seize the client who had broken the contract.

Then he would order the victims who had been plotted against to personally dig out the hearts of their own sons, wives, nephews, or siblings.

That was how he earned the title "Bloodhand."

"Bloodhand" did not mean that Harlett's own hands were stained with blood, but that he could make others' hands drip with the blood of their loved ones.

No one knew whether this almost twisted, pathological preference stemmed from his vile personality or his own upbringing.

But through such methods, Harlett had acquired vast wealth beyond the reach of traditional pirates, as well as an enormous intelligence network spanning every coastal city.

Even the renowned Shadow Thieves of Amn occasionally chose to cooperate with him.

"Mr. Bernard.

"I think we should abandon this ship and all the cargo aboard, then take the small boats and flee to an island to hide.

"Although distributing those special goods among the sailors might allow us to resist for a little while, defeat would only be a matter of time.

"And once the pirates suffer heavy casualties, they will certainly slaughter everyone in retaliation. They might even burn the ship."

Old Captain Bass gave his suggestion with a grave expression.

He wanted to use this method to determine whether "Bloodhand" Harlett was after the cargo aboard the ship, or after the most favored son of the master of the Roldan Trading Company standing before him.

If it was the latter...

then it meant he had been dragged into a power struggle within the trading company.

The merchant called Bernard had clearly realized this as well. Several brothers and sisters who normally competed with him flashed through his mind as he tried to identify who had both the motive and the ability to do such a thing. At last, he took a deep breath and nodded. "All right!

"When we enter shallow water and the ship is about to run aground, we'll row the small boats directly to the island.

"But there's a small problem.

"To save costs as much as possible when this ship set sail, it was not equipped with enough small boats.

"In other words, we'll have to abandon some of the sailors."

"What? There aren't enough small boats?"

The captain froze instantly and instinctively glanced at the number of small boats secured along both sides of the ship.

He discovered that aside from the four near the bow that were frequently used, the rest were merely makeshift props cobbled together from rotten wood.

If those things were put into the water, they would definitely fall apart in less than a minute.

With four small boats, each holding six to eight people at most, they could carry no more than twenty-four to thirty-two people.

Yet this large merchant ship had hired more than sixty sailors.

Old Bass did not dare guarantee that, once he announced that only half could escape while the other half would remain behind to face the brutal pirates, the enraged sailors would not immediately mutiny.

Bernard noticed the tension in the captain's eyes and immediately lowered his voice. "We don't actually need to tell the sailors the truth. We can secretly take a few trusted men and use the small boats to reach the island while no one is paying attention. After all, the fewer people there are, the easier it will be for us to hide, and the less likely we'll be captured."

"But doing that would ruin the reputation I've built over so many years!" Old Bass snarled angrily.

Without a good reputation, he would not be able to recruit sailors willing to follow him to sea, nor would he earn the trust of employers.

For a captain, that was undoubtedly fatal—enough to ruin his entire life.

"At a time like this, you're still worrying about some damned reputation?

"If anything happens to me, do you think my father will spare you and your family?

"And as long as I return safely, not only can you remain with the trading company as a captain,

"I'll also use my authority to help you obtain a larger ship and a greater share of the trade profits."

In order to escape this extremely dangerous situation, Bernard had gone all out. Gone was his usual refined, peaceable manner; he alternated between threats and inducements.

He did not want to become Bloodhand Harlett's prisoner, much less die at the hands of savage pirates.

After a fierce internal struggle, the old captain finally yielded.

Taking advantage of the panic caused when the ship ran aground, he secretly took Bernard, the boatswain, and the first mate—four people in all—lowered a small boat, and rowed hard toward the beach.

By the time the others noticed, it was already too late.

The helpless sailors could only curse loudly as they watched the pursuing pirates begin boarding, climbing onto the deck one after another with gleaming scimitars in hand.