Unfavorable Wind

Posted on 30 Jan 2021 @ 11:04pm by Rogue Jaslyn & Rogue Cainan Sauvage

3,660 words; about a 18 minute read

Mission: Lore's Labour's Lost
Location: Jader Harbor – Richelieu's ship
Timeline: Cloudreach 16th - afternoon

OOC: After 'Suspicious Distraction


Jaslyn had put up her hood, and now strode toward the docks beside the nobleman. He had not given her permission to use his first name, and the elf thought it was perhaps best she continue calling him Monsieur Sauvage, to avoid any premature pretense of friendship. He had agreed she didn't deserve a death sentence, and agreed to help her speak to Richelieu, and she was grateful. Jaslyn even hoped he was right about his friend, even though it would put her investigation at another dead end.

They passed warehouses to reach the pier at the east end near the harbor master's offices. Jaslyn held her hood with one hand against a strong breeze that carried the smells of salt air, fish, and the hard work of men and women. "Have you visited Captain Richelieu's ship very often, Monsieur Sauvage?"

"I've been on it a few times, I even sailed with him, once; paid my way by sparing his debt," he replied, sighing. "The Cassabianca has been his pride and joy for over ten years, he spends more time on it than he does at home in Val Royeux. Sometimes I think he should marry the boat and make it official," Cainan joked, half heartedly. Whatever could be said about Richelieu, he always loved his ship, and his life as a captain.

Jaslyn led the way to Richelieu's ship, the Cassabianca. She was no sailor, but she could see that it was one of the largest in the harbor, with sleek lines and three masts. Three guards stood at the gangplank, and Jaslyn came to a stop, resting a firm hand on Sauvage's arm. "You will have to ask to speak to Richelieu. They've already turned me away."

Cainan felt her hand on his arm, and stopped, sizing the guards up. They weren't people he knew; nor were they people that Richelieu would normally hire. Richelieu had a type when it came to his crew; quick to smile, but equally able to look tough - the sort of genuine looking strong, but gentle giant. Richelieu was no giant, so he liked to know the men weren't likely to mutiny.

These were not in keeping with his usual crew-type. They were just huge; all scarred and muscled, and armed with clubs and rapiers, though each looked able to rip a plank, or another sailor, in two.

"Where's Richelieu?" Cainan said, resting his hand on his pommel.

"Who wants to know?!" the dimmest looking sailor demanded, looking at Cainan. He was sizing his clothes up, and Cainan could tell he was wondering if he could get away with robbing him. What the hell had happened to the Cassabianca?

Jaslyn's hands rested on the hilts of her daggers beneath her cape, ready to stand with Cainan if the guards attacked. The nobleman had already gotten further than she had - these goons responded to his question.

"His old friend, Cainan Sauvage. We have business together," he announced, his eyes moving from one to the next. The mention of business had a curious effect; all three men stood straight and instantly looked more professional.

"Ah, er, Monsieur," the first man said, smoothing his tone; he sounded northern, not Orlesian; and certainly didn't look Orlesian. "Yes, ah - Gar, go get the Captain!" he hissed to the man next to him, who lumbered back up to the ship, leaving the other two standing awkwardly. Cainan turned and looked back at the docks, as if casually surveying his surroundings.

"I think they are under the impression that I'm one of their employers," Cainan said under his breath, rolling his eyes. "I see Richelieu is hiring dumber than usual. That's... unexpected."

"Hurlocks would be smarter, and not as greedy," said Jaslyn, with a smirk. She'd seen the way they looked at her companion before he identified himself as a business associate of Richelieu. The guards didn't seem to pay much attention to the potential threat posed by herself and Monsieur Sauvage, and she released her hold on her daggers. "Such employees do beg the question, what exactly is the business that Captain Richelieu and his real partners are involved in?"

Cainan was bothered by that, as well; now he looked, he couldn't see much of the crew that he was familiar with, and he wondered what had befallen them. Richelieu had always prized a good crew above the most profitable trade routes; at least, that had been Cainan's impression.

Gar, the man sent to inform Richelieu he had a guest, returned. "Captain says to bring you on board."

Jaslyn reached for Sauvage's arm. "May I? That is, if you don't mind presenting me to the Captain as your... associate."

Cainan hooked his arm out, for her to take. "It would be a bit remiss of me to leave you alone in such company, especially after you asked for my assistance; I am a gentleman, whenever I can be," he added, the simple action announcing their association to the ship guards and challenging them to question it.

As they walked onto the plank, the guards made way for them, looking at Cainan's elven companion; while he knew she had armour under her cloak, they were more interested in her figure and her face; pretty, fair - they assumed a more... carnal relationship between himself and his companion.

"I can handle myself, though I do appreciate your chivalry." The way the three guards looked at her as they walked up the plank – an elf woman on a nobleman's arm - suggested certain conclusions. Jaslyn tossed her hair flirtatiously to enhance the impression and paused with Sauvage near the center mast.

Jaslyn could see no people working on deck. She knew little about ships, although the Cassabianca was docked, so she presumed the sailors were spending their pay at taverns and brothels along the wharf. In addition to the three guards, Jaslyn noted a woman with a crossbow looking down at them from the upper deck at the ship's bow.

"If Captain Richelieu doesn't recognize me, feel free to tell him whatever you think best about who I am. I don't need acknowledgement or respect, and I don't' need you to defend my honor. I just want to find out what he knows about the disappearances of elves and poor humans in Jader." She looked up into Sauvage's handsome human face to make sure he understood.

Cainan chuckled under his breath, looking up at the crossbow wielder watching them from the upper deck. "Oh, I'm sure you don't need me to defend anything," he replied, amused. "But sufficed to say, if things do go sideways, you will have me at your back, honour or no." He gestured towards the doors towards Richelieu's quarters. The woman above hadn't taken aim, which he appreciated. He opened the door for her and they walked into the slightly warmer interior. The room was as he remembered it; Richelieu's office and quarters took up the width of the aft of the ship. The sleeping chambers were walled off from the office, which was before them. The walls were lined with bookshelves with charts, navigation equipment and letters that Cainan knew included such things like writs of exemption, and favours used by sea captains as proof of their rights to be in certain waters, though there appeared to be fewer of these than he remembered. The room was illuminated by candles in sconces, and on the desk at which Richelieu now sat, going over papers by candlelight.

"Evening, Javert," Cainan said, amicably, though his eyes were drinking in the details of the room, and of the captain.

"Cainan?" Richelieu asked, blinking rapidly; clearly he had been expecting someone else. Cainan suddenly got the distinct impression the guard who had announced them had forgotten his name and just flubbed it. "Why, what are you doing here?"

"Can't I drop in to see a friend?" Cainan asked, smoothly, casually strolling into the light, gesturing to Jaslyn. "We were in the area and I thought I would drop in and see you, and Harlan, Jules, Kanpery and Fariweather," Cainan added, reeling off the names of Richelieu's principle officers, who had been with him for time immemorial. The flinch the man's face had for each name told him they were no longer aboard, but he continued without breaking stride. "Though I see you've hired some new security types since my last time aboard; is the textiles shipping business really getting so rough as to need those three trolls on the pier?" he asked, jerking his head back towards the deck.

Jaslyn took in the accoutrements of Richelieu's office, books, instruments, and papers that would take significant time to search. The captain himself had the same self-important bearing she recalled, serving him at her mistress' home in Val Royeaux. But now Richelieu appeared weary, stressed, and even guilty. He also showed no indication of recognizing her, which was for the best, and yet he didn't acknowledge her, an elf, either.

"Those new guards were hired by, uh… my new first mate," said Richelieu. Jaslyn observed the captain's manner bordered on fearful, but he was not afraid of them. "You really should not be here, Cainan, my friend. I'm quite busy. We can discuss our mutual comrades another time… over drinks." He got up from his desk, went to the door and peeked out, then stood next to the door, an invitation for them to leave.

"New ... first mate," Cainan repeated, unmoving. "You no longer sail with Kanperry? Moira is the best sailor this side of the Amaranthine." It was said as a statement, but it was clearly a question. Richelieu was visibly sweating. Cainan looked again at his friend; paler than he had ever seen him, and maybe wearing a bit thin; something was very wrong, and he wondered what could have affected the man so when he was docked safely in an Orlesian port; he looked like he was being run down by a Qunari Dreadnaught. "So, tell me about this new first mate - does she... he? Does he play wicked grace?" he asked, reading his friend for the answer to the gender of the first mate.

"He's... not the gambling sort," Richelieu replied, cautiously. "Is there... something I can help you both with?" he asked, giving up on getting rid of them politely and moving to expedite things till they moved along.

"Ah, as for that," Cainan said, gesturing to his companion. Richelieu fixed on her, though if he recognised her, it didn't show.

"Captain Richelieu, I'd like to ask you a few questions about incidents that may be connected." Jaslyn adopted a mild and conversational tone of voice. "Someone is offering mysterious work at unusually high wages. Elves in Jader are missing, along with poor humans, especially Ferelden refugees. It is rumored that you recently paid off some rather large debts, and despite your recent improved fortunes, most of your long-time crew members have taken jobs aboard other ships, and some have disappeared altogether."

Richelieu shrugged, but didn't look either of them in the eye. "Profits have been exceptional. Besides, what business is it of yours?" He glanced to Cainan then looked away. "So what? I've had extra coin to lose to you at cards. You never worried about that before."

"No, I never have been," Cainan replied, looking at his friend. He had crossed his arms, he realised; but he didn't uncross them. His false demeanour of amicable friendliness had fallen away, replaced with concern, and disappointment. "But then, you never gave me cause to worry about it. Till now."

"Captain, I am not accusing you." Yet, Jaslyn thought. "Hahren Liriel asked me to look into elves disappearing in general. She also said that your cook's brother came to the Cassabianca looking for his sister, but was turned away by the guards. Where is Julanna?"

Richelieu's eyes flashed with regret, and despair for a moment, and Cainan felt a lump suddenly form in his throat. Had he not known Richelieu's face so well, he might have missed the absolute howling, haunted look in the other man. But Cainan knew Richelieu, had studied that face for hours from over his cards or his wine. He knew every line of his face, knew every twitch of muscle, every tell... So it was easy to tell that something awful had happened to Julanna. Cainan just started at the man as his facade, or what passed for it, returned.

"Julanna - ah... she chose to sign on with another company. Left the ship a few weeks ago," Richelieu said, pointedly not looking at Cainan. But Cainan could see nothing but the man he had called friend, who was lying about the fate of his friend. Cainan was completely unable to speak for a moment, as he re-read that face, looking for reassurance that he was wrong - that this man, his friend, had not just lied about his ships cook. Julanna had been a simple, gentle woman - barely more than a girl in a woman's body.

"How could you allow that to happen?" asked Jaslyn. There was something false in Richelieu's manor and story. According to her family, Julanna was a savant in the kitchen, everyone in the alienage was looking forward to her Summerday visit. But she was also naïve and slow in many respects. "Why didn't you notify Julanna's family?"

Cainan found his voice again. "Tell me what you did to Julanna," Cainan said, quietly. His tone could not be mistaken - it was simple, direct, and had the same effect as a coup de grace. Richelieu was trembling, trying not to look at Cainan.

"I think, ah, that's enough - terribly busy, must -"

"Tell. Me. Now." Richelieu blinked, and slumped back into his chair, whimpering as his facade dropped for good. He began to weep; quietly - as if he had finished wailing long ago, but not finished with the tears. "Tell me how she died," Cainan finally said, fighting tears of his own.

"Oh Cainan, I'm in trouble," Richelieu whimpered, finally looking him in the eyes. "I only wanted... I needed to pay my debts. I needed the money, and they offered me so much for so little; just... changing my cargo. It wasn't even illicit - just metals - Silverite, for Andraste's sake!" he cried, and then settled down, defeated. "I didn't think anyone would get hurt. It was even good - easy work, great money - I paid off all the debts on the Cassabianca and even turned a little profit, after," he added, bitterly. "But Kanperry didn't like it. She... asked questions I didn't want the answers to, and she left; chose to seek her fortunes elsewhere." Richelieu met Cainan's eyes again, and softly wiped his cheek. "I should have done the same, but..."

"You wanted to roll the dice a little longer," Cainan finished for him. He felt tired, watching his friend. "So what happened?"

"Well, I needed a first mate, and... he made it a condition of the next trip." Richelieu said, spitting the pronoun. "And that's how I got my new first mate, Gerlach Robertson," he said, his tone regretful and his tongue barbed. "He was the one who had approached me, initially; wanted me to change my route, my cargo... offered me more than any legitimate route should have. I should have asked more questions, but..."

"But you didn't." It wasn't an accusation, Cainan realised; and felt sickened when he saw, suddenly, himself sitting in Javert's place. How often had he not asked those questions himself?

Richelieu shook his head, solemnly. "No, I didn't. And everything that came afterwards... came to pass because I didn't ask questions I didn't want to know the answer to." He took a moment, then took a bottle of rum from his desk drawer and unstoppered it, taking a healthy swig. "Well, Fariweather... you know how he gets. Kept asking questions, and Robertson - he didn't like it. Fariweather came to me with letters; ledgers he had taken from Robertson's room; Ledgers that didn't have columns for things like 'wages'. I... I didn't want to believe."

No wages. Jaslyn felt sick, her fears for the missing people confirmed. But she still didn't have the answers she came here for.

Richelieu swigged his bottle again. "Robertson noticed the ledger's disappearance and got to Fariweather before I could smooth things over. When we got to our drop off rendezvous, he had Fariweather and Harlan row him out to meet with the captain of the other ship. I... I don't know what happened there, truly. But he rowed himself back - alone. And Jules..." his voice cracked, as a new wave of tears began. "She just kept asking where Harlan and Fariweather was. She didn't even understand - she was just asking how they'd catch up. But Gerlach..." he took a few shuddering breaths, and Cainan felt his heart tense. "He killed her... made an example of her for the others. One trip and I lost three of my longest, truest friends. And by the time we had docked back at port, I had lost the rest of my crew, either to desertion or to Gerlach. Robertson had those that had left replaced within the day; all louts, brutes and... unsavoury types. They've taken the ship, Cainan. She isn't even mine, anymore - not really. I own it on paper, but it's Robertson who commands her. I'm practically a figurehead. A puppet captain," he mused, his gaze falling to the desk.

Cainan was silent for a time, as he processed what he could.

"And now here you are, wallowing in self-pity and drink, after you watched your criminal ally murder an innocent woman, and two members of your crew are dead or worse." Jaslyn leaned on the desk, looming over Richelieu. She could barely contain her loathing for this man. "Why haven't you reported this criminal, Gerlach Robertson, to the authorities?"

Richelieu cringed. "I would lose everything. The Cassabianca. My estate in Val Royeux. My reputation. And… and he threatened my wife!"

"You already jeapordised all those things," Cainan said, quietly, as he felt the anger roll off of Jaslyn beside him. "You jeapordise them every day you're in business with these people. You could perhaps be forgiven when you didn't know... but to give them your crew? To gamble that reputation to help them kidnap, murder and do Maker knows what with the ore you smuggle for them... You made a choice. Make another one now; a better one. Tell my friend what she want's to know, and we will do the rest."

Jaslyn resisted the urge to slap Richelieu, not just for his selfishness, but for the order of his priorities. Instead she yanked the bottle out of his grasp and slammed it on his desk. With effort, she concentrated on the reason she was standing here in the presence of this ship's captain no better than Antoine. In a firm and commanding tone she rephrased her previous question. "The missing people. Where are they?"

"Th- there's a mine… r- run by a carta dwarf… s- southeast of Jader. On the coast. Exporting silverite ore." He grabbed for the bottle and took another swig. "You can't tell anyone I told you."

Having obtained the information she wanted, Jaslyn stepped back to let Cainan take over. She went to the door to keep watch in case the first mate returned.

Cainan watched his friend... watched Captain Richelieu for a few moments, feeling drained. He could see the inconvenient truth in front of him; that Richelieu was a mirror image of his own failings; failure to ask the right questions, to confront that uncomfortable feeling; failure to recognise the path he walked down was lined with the suffering of others. It was like looking into a mirror if there but for the maker he had gone.

He didn't like the view. He slowly stood, slipped his purse off his belt and tossed it onto the desk, where it landed with a heavy thud that startled the other man, who looked up at him with questioning, bloodshot eyes. There was no doubt from Cainan's expression that this wasn't charity.

"I won't carry coin earned that way. I won't be a part of this," he said, quietly. "Take your money, make your way to Val Royeux and escape with your wife. Or not, I don't care. But you still owe me every coin in that purse, and I won't accept it till it was earned honestly. And if you're not willing to do that... well, then those coins are the worth of your soul," Cainan said, softly. "Three rounds of drinks and a lucky hand at cards. If you're comfortable being damned for the contents of a Tuesday night on the town... well, then I guess you have what you are worth," he said, turning away from the man he had once called friend. Richelieu didn't speak.

Cainan didn't look back to see if his friend pushed the money away or not; he didn't care. He walked through the door and out onto the open deck, breathing the cool, crisp sea air as he did so, feeling momentarily cleansed of the last few minutes.

Jaslyn put up her hood and followed Cainan, closing Richelieu's door gently behind them to avoid raising suspicion among their audience of thugs on deck - working for a man named Gerlach Robertson, not Richelieu. She took Cainan's arm as she'd done before, and together they walked down the Cassabianca's gangplank with a casual stride. Jaslyn didn't relax until they left the docks and she was relatively certain they weren't being followed. "I could use a drink."

 

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