XXX. In Shadows

In a whirlwind chain of events, Alice found herself in a small office in one of the castle towers, with a Duvachellian staff she neither wanted nor asked for, and a stack of documents regarding troop supplies, requests and incident reports. Unsurprisingly, most of the incidents involved Admiral Donnelyn’s men getting too rowdy in the entertainment district. She brushed a strand of hair from her face with a groan and lay her head on the table. The misgivings Fiora had expressed about keeping the Pirate and his crew around seemed well founded.

A sudden knock at the door caused her to slam down her pen with an irritated huff. Alice paused to collect herself and straighten up the paperwork strewn in front of her, before she bid the visitor to enter. The Admiral stepped in and took off his tri-cornered hat with a deep, exaggerated bow. His long salt and pepper dreads nearly swept the floor. Despite being a man in his late fifties, his skin was as taut as a man twenty-years his younger; a canvas for barely visible ink over ebon skin. Alice recognized several medals pinned to his breast, medals reflecting valor and a distinguished service during the war. Difficult to forge, and not likely to be sold or traded,she was hard pressed to take them as anything other than genuine.

Francis smiled, revealing a toothy grin that glimmered golden in the light. “Ye summoned me Duchess?”

Alice Frowned and motioned for him to have a seat. “I did, and it is Countess, my father is duke, not I.”

Francis bowed his head in deference. “How is old Charles by dee way?”

Alice pursed her lips together and folded her hands atop the desk. “Do not insinuate intimacy with me or my Father Admiral, you may have Lord Aichlan fooled, but you’ll find me far more discerning.”

Francis smiled and bowed once more, more mocking than the first. “Mi meant no disrespect to im Duke an’ da Lady Countess.”

The Admiral had an accent she had heard once or twice before, mostly in the eurithanian immigrant communities along Prosperity bay and the Estuaries, where Aichlan was from. Fortunately, his time in the service, assuming he was in the service, had softened it enough to be intelligible to her noble ears. The dialect was an odd mix of Aes Sidhean, Eurithanian, and Elysian. Most of those living outside of Briartach spoke some bastardization of the tongue, a corruption of old fey and sylphian tongues,but the Eurithanians had a puzzling yet joyful way with the language. Even if she was only able to grasp his meaning through context when he really got going on a yarn.

Francis unbuttoned his coat and made his way over to the bar. “Your father was in da Navy for a spell.”

Alice’s face flushed. “As an intelligence officer. I know for a fact that you had no contact with him. But that is not why I’ve called you in here.”

Francis opened the cabinets above the bar and whistled, impressed by the selection. Without asking, he mixed together a golden colored rum, simple syrup, orange juice, sparkling wine and a sprig of thyme in a highball glass. The audacity of his actions was shocking, but Alice found herself more intrigued by the cocktail and the deftness with which he made it.

“True, mi started as im quartermaster. Af’er Admiral Pimm’s lil’ fuck up,” Francis shrugged “I was promoted to captain, and quickly af’er, Admiral.”

Alice frowned. Admiral Pimm’s disaster during the Rhodarcian campaign was well known, wherein the aforementioned admiral blundered into an obvious trap and squandered two-thirds of the fleet in the process. It was quite possible that Francis was a part of the Navy, in fact, that aspect of his character wasn’t in question. Alice just did not buy that the man was anything other than a criminal throwing around names to save his neck.

“I did no meet Charles ‘till well af’er da war.” Francis held up his glass. “Can I make the lady a drink?”

Alice turned up her nose in disgust and leaned back in her chair. “You may, and from henceforth, I will insist you refer to my father by his proper titles.”

Francis flashed a tooth grin, revealing several gold capped teeth, and turned his attention back to the bar. “Ye know, Ol’ King Céolsige didn’t wanna shuffle me out. Dat’s main reason why mi still wearin’ da coat and fly dem colors.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Alice snorted.

“Oh, sure. Da Rhodarcians paint mi as a privateer, a reg’lar ol’ scoundrel. And dey be partly right. ‘Twas war lass, and our orders came from on high.”

“I am not your lass sir.” Alice said sternly.

“Apologies mistress.” Francis said offhandedly as he mixed her cocktail. “But as mi were sayin’, our mission was to intercept and disrupt shippin’. Our targets were mostly military, Brass in Rhodarcium were just butt hurt it was so effective is all.”

Alice stifled a giggle at his odd turn of phrase. “You were formally charged as a war criminal.”

Francis waved her off as he brought over a lowball glass of a layered pink and red drink. Alice took the drink with a mumbled thanks. It tasted heavenly, and more like a confectionary than an alcoholic drink, though admittedly, she hadn’t had many alcoholic drinks in her life. It was even topped with a bright red cherry.

“Come now girlie,” Francis took a seat and kicked his boot up onto her desk, “don’ tell me ye buy the enemies propaganda?”

“This is delicious.” Alice said with a smile as she sucked it down. “What’s in it?”

“Coconut rum, orange-pineapple juice and grenadine. A bit too rich for my blood, but I figured you’d like it.”

“What’s a pineapple?”

Francis chuckled. “A fruit from dem tropics, dey grow it in the greenhouses, I’ll be sure to bring yuh one next time we chat.”

While she knew he was a man of ill repute, none of the encounters she’d had with him reflected this. A bit crude and crass, he was nonetheless a charming fellow. At least, from what she saw of him. An opinion Aichlan seemed to share, though the reports of his crew were undeniable at this point. Regardless of what she thought of the man personally, his subordinates had been making a mess of things in this city, and it couldn’t be allowed to continue.

Alice set down her drink and leaned in, more and more curious about the Admiral. “How did you know Garrick?”

Francis leaned back in his seat with an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, now dat dere’s a tale an’ a half. Ferried im and his men in a fleet o’ a hundred vessels across da Irae, den back up through da rift when tings went sour.”

“The rift?” Alice said and she took a sip.

“The Eurithanian rift. They di’nae teach ye none geography?”

Alice blushed and took another sip. “Eurithania is a continent of hermits.”

“Can’t argue there lass.” He said with a dismissive smirk.

Alice rolled her eyes, equally fed up with the Admirals subtle snark. “And where are you from?”

Francis chuckled. “Despite me complexion, I can trace at least four generations back to Slateport.”

Alice cocked her head and smiled. “That’s on the Eastfaire side of the estuaries if I’m not mistaken.”

Francis took a sip of his cocktail and placed a finger to his lips. If Aichlan knew, he’d likely throw a fit. For some asinine reason, Westfaire Towers and Eastfaire Towers were mortal enemies, despite basically being the same towns on opposite sides of a river. They even shared a bridge, from whence the Towers part of their name originated. If only they sat down and shared one of the pink drinks Francis had made, Alice was certain the animosity would dissipate.

Alice sucked her teeth as she drained the last of the cocktail. She had allowed herself to be sidetracked from the reason of this visit. Charming or no, she simply would not abide banditry committed by her countrymen, particularly those who acted under her banner.

“The king,” Francis said, as if reading her thoughts, “said to me ‘You know Francis,’-this was af’er da war mind- he says ‘our new allies keep calling yuh a criminal an’ a pie-rut, and either dey be lying, or we are. And we can’t be accusing our new friends in the east of dishonesty.’”

Alice smiled with his emphasis on each syllable in the word dishonesty. They certainly sounded like her cousins words, more or less. She cleared her throat and pushed her empty glass towards Francis. He smirked and he slid his half-finished drink towards her. While not nearly as sweet, it was still quite good.

“I fail to grasp the point of this little anecdote.” Alice said and emptied the glass in a single gulp.

Francis chuckled a bit uneasily and held out his hand. “Perhaps ye should be taken it slow lass, dese’re mighty strong draughts.”

Alice waved him off as she crunched on an ice cube. “I think I’ll be fine, I barely tasted any liquor at all. Now if you would be so kind as to make me another pink thing and answer my question.”

Francis picked up her empty cup and hesitantly obliged. “Basically, mah king told me dat if dey were gonna call me criminal and pie-rut, den it’d be in my best interest to not make dem liars. So, before dey were to be marchin’ me to da gallows, ol’ king Ceolsige set me men up with a couple o’ ships and the guards forgot to lock mi cell. Been fuckin’ with the Rhodarcians for nigh on fif’een years now.”

“And kidnapping, murdering, raping.” Alice counted the crimes off on her fingers.

Francis aimed his finger at Alice, a serious look in his eyes. “Now I may be a lot o’ tings, but ne’er a rapist. Thief?” he shrugged. “Sure. But ne’er that o’er ting.”

Alice sighed and averted her eyes. “But your men did. Princess Aislyn has informed me that you were willing to allow your crew to have their way with her. Fiora has reported repeated unwanted advances and even stalking by some of your men. Not to mention the reports from the brothels.”

“They always paid.” Francis said with a flippant gesture.

Alice slammed her hand down on the desk. “That’s beside the point. This behavior is unacceptable.”

Francis sat down and slid Alice’s drink to her. “I had most o’ these boys since they were not much older than ye, some even younger. All bright eyed boys looking to serve dem king and country with honor, only for her to turn her back on ‘em after dey sacrificed so much. They’re honorable lads mi’lady.”

Alice suddenly felt guilty, and rather lightheaded. The Lyresian accord was a joke, and everyone knew it. It was just a series of petty demands from both sides, most notable was the accusation that over half of Aes Sidhe’s Navy had committed war crimes by targeting supply lines. Francis very likely was a man who served his kingdom honorably, but today, he was a pirate. And her family was partly to blame.

“Honorable men don’t carry on in such a manner Admiral.” Alice paused and sighed deeply. “What would Garrick think? If you truly did know the man.”

Anger briefly crossed Francis’ eyes. “Aye lass, I knew ‘im. Be’er ‘an ye ever could, and he’d know dat if you walk in shadow long enough, eventually, you become one with it.”

Alice was silent for several moments as she hung her head. That was admittedly a low blow on her part.

“Still, it’s a problem that needs to be addressed.” She said after several tense moments. “so far it seems to be limited to harassment, but I will not tolerate men under my banner acting in such an uncouth manner.”

Francis nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact. “Aye, and I’ll deal with it. Dem dat took too many liberties will be punished accordingly.”

“Thank you.”

Before Francis could stop her, Alice knocked back the entire glass.

“Aww hell lass. Aichlan’s gonna be right pissed he is.”

Alice covered her mouth with her sleeve and belched. “Pardon me. Why would Aichlan be upset? And would ye mind fixin’ me another?”