Head in the Clouds, Got No Weight on My Shoulders...

[Captain Ciera Ancora]

"What is it that drives the world?" Blade had asked her once. "What essential force keeps it spinning madly on? Ask anybeast, anybeast at all, and they?ll tell you. Whether they?re woodlander or vermin, young or old, erudite or simpleton, they?ll tell you sure enough. Some will say it?s gold, or timber, others of a more philosophical bent might say it?s love or greed or the pursuit of happiness. It doesn?t matter what they say, because they?ve already given you the answer. Because you see, what they say isn?t nearly as important as that they say.

"Rumors. Speech. Words. The means by which the smouldering twig of my idea attracts the glowing ember of your idea and begets the melded flame of our idea. Get enough of those ideas together, and they?ll create an inferno, burning bright in a world blackened by ignorance."

The pirate economy may have had gold as its cornerstone, but rumors were the mortar that ran between the bricks. They spread between every ship and every crew, bonding the distant pirates together even as they separated them. News, gossip, who lived, who?d died, what?d been taken? rumor was a chaotic sea, and every story was a current event.

And then along came Cyril, who figured out that by dipping in just here and altering the story just like this, you could create eddies in the current.

Captain Blade began as a rumor, a carefully-spun collection of anecdotes and stories told over one too many tankards of grog. The tales were outlandish but believable, realistically bold, and just humorous enough to snag in the memory so as to remain fresh for retelling. Those tales were passed on from crew to crew, from captain to captain. They grew, they multiplied. Blade had sacked two coastal villages in one night, put every single beast to the sword. Haven?t seen the Darksail lately, wonder if they ran afoul of Blade?

And then, before the eddies grew too chaotic, Cyril stepped in and became Blade. The Captain of legend. The rumor made flesh. His reputation preceded him everywhere he went, and the sheer force of his charisma was enough to ensure that the real Blade came off exactly as impressively as the rumors made him out to be.

Ciera had played a variety of roles. She was the sounding board against which Blade?s rumoured exploits were tested. She helpfully spread a variety of tall tales, which her deadpan demeanour made very hard to doubt. And if that failed, well, there was always a cutlass waiting in the dark for anybeast who doubted Blade too hard.

They made an excellent team.

There was a thundering moment of silence after Blade?s mace smashed into the Badger Lord?s skull. Atlas crumpled into a shapeless black mass. A small rivulet of blood trickled onto the gray stone. Only the slightest coruscation in the hoary darkness indicated that Atlas still drew breath.

The garish apparition that was Blade began to giggle slightly.

Blade. Alive. He turned to her, grinning. Unlocked the shackles.

Ciera numbly massaged the life back into her paws. They still ached from Atlas' onslaught. And there she was, after ten seasons of aimless wandering, face to face with Captain Blade. Blade, who she?d long ago given up as lost forever. Blade, her oldest friend and dearest companion, the beast who knew her more intimately than anyone before or since. Blade, who was the embodiment of all of her hopes and dreams.

WHOK!

The punch caught him underneath the chin so hard it almost lifted him off his footpaws.

Blade, who'd broken her trust. Blade, who'd left her alone. Blade, who'd destroyed her ship and nearly drowned her. 

Blade, who was all these things and more, staggered back amid a chorus of gasps. The sheer enormity of watching the beast who was both Fire God and legendary Pirate King get punched in the face temporarily galvanized everybeast into stillness. Ciera hit him again, reasoning that there?d probably never be a better opportunity.

Shuga looked as if he would spring at her, but Blade waved him off, using the other paw to wipe at the eye she'd socked. Ciera glared at him, but left her fists by her sides.

Blade grinned, slightly lopsidedly on account of the battering. ?It?s good to see you again, Ciera.?

The words echoed about in her skull, over and over, colliding with one another in their endless repetition until they were only fragments. Good to see you good to see you again Ciera to see again Ciera it?s good again again Ciera it?s

Her mind buzzed with questions. Thousands upon thousands of them, a roiling morass of inquiry.

She?d been more right than she knew. The treasure was indeed a trap, a device intended to lure pirates towards this desolate isle. She had assumed Atlas, or one his more cunning hares, was behind the rumors, but it was an onion of a plot, with layers upon layers. The treasure was bait for the pirates, and the pirates in turn were bait for Atlas. It was ingeniously cunning. She?d have been impressed, if it hadn?t been for one errant phrase.

Blade had said something about finding a ?small crew of beasts who are loyal to you.? Small crew. Other beasts had known he was alive, had kept it secret for ten seasons while all around them the seas rang out with the cries of the dead and dying. Others had known, and she hadn?t. He had deliberately kept it from her. He?d left her out there, to fight and scrabble amongst the ruins of their fallen empire, watching most of them die and the rest turn to monsters.

Why? Was it some sort of sick test?

She gazed into his eyes. There was no admiration there, no approval; Blade showed no hint of pleasure at the sight of his favorite pupil standing before him, having survived the trials which had killed so many others. But there was something else in the way his eyes moved, the way he carried himself. Something she couldn?t quite place. Not surprise, clearly. In a perverse way, it was almost a compliment; Blade?s relative nonchalance evinced that he hadn?t particularly regarded a ship full of Waverunners, a wreck, serpents, mongeese, and a berserking Badger Lord as quite enough deadliness to prevent her from showing up here.

So, not a test, and not an oversight? but what?

Guilt? Shame?

?Get rid of it!?

Ciera stared at him, stunned. She?d been expecting? well, she wasn?t sure what she?d been expecting. Denial, maybe? Shock? Certainly not? vehemence.

?I can deal with it.?

?It?s a distraction. Worse, it?ll take you out of commission. I need you ? all of my captains, to be ready. The situation is escalatin' out of control. There are dockyards croppin' up all along the coastline.?

?So??

?So Atlas is buildin' a fleet!?

Ciera mentally kicked herself for even asking the question. Of course. A fleet. It was logical. How could she have missed that? 

?He?s aimin' to pursue us on our own territory,? Blade continued, staring apprehensively at the map. ?We need every ship, every able-bodied pirate, if we?re goin' to be able to weather the onslaught.?

He turned to face her. ?This war is goin' to happen, and I need you there with me. I need your mind, your strategies. None of the other captains understand the skirmish the way that you do.?

?My mind will be just fine.?

?Will it??

?Yes.?

He frowned, obviously disbelieving her but reticent to press the issue. ?How do you think your crew will react when you?re laid up, unable to walk properly? When you?re recoverin' and can?t get out of bed? To say nothin' of how they?ll react to the presence of??

??your kit??

The word lanced through the air like a whipcrack.

No, it couldn?t possibly be guilt. Neither of them had ever felt guilty for what happened, thanks to the unshakeable iron shields of reason and rationale. They?d done what they?d done. It was never a romance, simply a way of discharging inconveniently distracting emotions. He was attracted to her, she was swayed by the passion of his ideals. They?d allow those feelings to blossom every now and again, and then shove them back into the darkness where they belonged and get back down to business. They?d never used the word ?lovers,? because they?d never used the word ?love.?

The pregnancy? He?d never be guilty for that. Loathe as she was to admit it, he?d been right. The pregnancy was a distraction, even before? that.

It could have been an accident. Probably was.

There was a raid, a joint venture between the Silver Maiden and Captain Scarcrab of the Foulwake. Small coastal village, nothing out of the ordinary about it, nothing unusual about the raid.

Scarcrab?s lot were undisciplined, much like their captain. They pillaged quickly and indiscriminately, leaving the more methodical searching for Ciera and her crew. They missed out on a lot of the trinkets, but scored more of the vital supplies: food, water, tools.

Ciera herself, her belly not large enough to hamper her movements but just slightly too large to ignore, had opted to take the rear. She?d been scouting out a hastily-abandoned hut, and noticed an unnaturally straight crack in the dirt floor. The trapdoor was easy to uncover, and revealed a hidden basement stocked with sacks of grain. She headed out to call for assistance unloading it? and then it all became fractured, disjointed sensations. The feeling of somebeast shoving her. The smell of dust as she hit the ground face first. Sky whirling as she rolled, tried to recover. And then?

THUD.

The hollow sound of the club smashing heavily into her stomach. Screams. Rage. Skin and fur tearing apart. Blood running between her teeth. Exhaustion. Blackness. They said later that the beast was probably one of Scarcrab?s crew, a hapless idiot who?d mistaken her for a woodlander. There wasn?t enough left of him to make a proper identification, though.

It could have been an accident, oh yes. Accidents had a funny way of happening to those who disobeyed direct orders from Blade.

She?d never be able to prove it, not really. All she had was suspicion, but that was enough.

The Silver Maiden weighed anchor, and headed back to Terramort. Ciera spent the voyage waiting for the trauma to sink in, for her body to reject the beaten fetus. But nothing happened. Her body continued to swell, as the unborn kit drew nourishment from her flesh. When she arrived at the pirate fortress, she commandeered a section of the fortress ?under Blade?s orders? and sequestered herself to wait for the inevitable. Outside, time passed. Tensions escalated between pirates and Waverunners. Councils were called, to discuss preparations for war. Strategies were outlined, and battle plans were drawn. And Ciera wasn?t there.

She hadn't been there.

That was it, she hadn't been there. He hadn't left her out of the loop as a test, oh no. He'd done it as a punishment.

?So what is all this?? Ciera demanded, seriously considering a third punch. ?You drag the pirates out here, sink their vessels, then press-gang them into your service??

?Press gangin? isn?t really what I?d call it,? Blade said evenly.

Ciera pointed at the charred hare. ?I?d call it a choice between serving or being served up.?

?It ain?t like that.?

?It?s exactly like that.?

?Look, I understand that you?re upset.?

?Upset!??

?And you?ve every right t?be. But before you go slaggin? me in the face again, at least let me show you what I?ve built here.?

?And what have you built??

?The future of piracy. I have an army, Ciera. An army.? Blade?s voice grew steadily more impassioned as he spoke. ?Don?t you understand? I?ve done it. I?ve actually done it. I?ve taken the flotsam and jetsam of the seas, and I?ve assembled them into a workin?, functionin? unit. They work together, they fight together... Don?t you see? This is what we were workin? towards the entire time. Pirates, all of them, united together under a single cause.?

?Impossible. That rabble can?t be controlled.?

?It can. And it is.?

?It can?t work.? It wasn?t possible. It just wasn?t. Pirates were too stupid, too greedy. They couldn?t be made to work together, to be organized into a useful force. They?d tried, and in no time flat the entire framework had collapsed under its own weight. How could Blade have conquered such innate flaws? Even with the isolation of the island, even if you cut off every other avenue? it still shouldn?t have been possible. Not in ten seasons, not in a hundred seasons.

?Ciera,? Blade said smoothly. ?It works. You have every reason to doubt it, but it works. The society I?ve built here is sustainable. Piracy can live again, and keep on livin?, until the seas dry up.?

It was everything they?d wanted, and more ? if it was true.

?But what happens after Salamandastron falls? If Salamandastron falls??

?We do there what we?ve done here. Turn it into a safe haven for vermin everywhere.?

?But-?

?I know you?ve got questions, but please just? come with me. See it for yourself. You and your crew can take a look for yourselves, an? if you don?t like what you see, you?re free to go.?

?Free to go where??

?Hellgates, you?re suspicious.?

?I?m suspicious of a beast who deliberately kept me in the dark and let me think he was dead for ten seasons. You also haven?t given me an answer. Free to go where??

?Wherever you like. You can tag along with us as far as Salamandastron, and then go your own way when the fighting starts.? Blade?s eyes flicked up to meet her gaze. ??I figure you?re comfortable enough with that sort of thing.?

Ciera?s hackles rose. ?Terramort wasn?t my fault. I filled my position.?

?Eventually.?

She bit back a slew of curses.

?Anyway,? Blade continued. ?No point jawin? about any longer. There?s work t?be done. Shuga, have somebeast tend to the badger, I don?t want him dyin? of blood loss before ?is time.?

The sinuous mongoose, busily unchaining a Waverunner squirrel, nodded. He scuttled off to fetch some of his compatriots, shoving the squirrel ahead of him.

?In th? meantime, you might as well hear me out. I think you?ll be impressed by what I?ve built here. I?ll even let you bring your crew along. Although,? Blade scanned the prisoners, ?I can?t really figure which of this lot are yours. Most of ?em are Waverunners.?

Ciera gazed along the line. ?The vixen with the bad leg, and the scarred otter are mine.?

Blade raised an eyebrow at Chak?s inclusion, but Ciera deigned not to indulge him. ??Oh yes, and the rat with the bandaged tail, and the leveret.?

The older ferret smirked humorlessly as he loosened Vera?s chains. ?You always did have a soft spot for children, didn?t you??

For possibly the first time in her life, Ciera Ancora flinched. A hot, burning sensation started at the base of her skull, and coursed like wildfire through her veins.

Chak, Plink, Vera, and Scully formed a loose conglomeration. ?Four crew?? Blade queried. ?That?s it??

Ciera looked at the prisoners, biting back a savage retort. She couldn't afford to lose control. Not now. The prisoners were all Waverunners. Well, all except for one bedraggled figure, dejected and miserable against the stone pillar. Tooley. Her crewbeast. The weasel looked at her, his face pitiful, expectant.

Of course she should release him. There was no reason why she shouldn't. It wasn't actually his fault that the Maiden had been destroyed, not really.

But when she looked at him, all she could see was the burning wreckage of her beloved Silver Maiden, slipping out of her grasp forever. Their days in the jungle had done little to heal that wound, and just the sight of him was enough to peel away the scab and expose its rawness to the elements. It made her weak. And she couldn't be weak; not in front of Blade. Not now. Not again. Not ever.

?Yes,? Ciera said quietly. ?That?s it.?