(AFTER THE EXODUS OF THE G.o.dS).

The sails are rent, and the engine's blown The keel is split to stern, O We lost the rudder to the tide And the mizzenmast is burning The rain's like nails, and our harbor's lost And the compa.s.s spins and turns, O.

-"Weather the Storm"

"I don't understand why the man can't see reason!" Cobiah strode up the large cobblestone steps in the town's main plaza. Walking beside him, Sykox laughed and s.h.i.+fted a heavy bundle of cogs and gears he carried over his shoulder. A dolyak cart clattered past in the roadway, carrying a wide load of lumber from the nearby forests. Merchants hawked their wares throughout the streets, and citizens ate, shopped, and moved about in the casual errands of everyday life.

Lion's Arch had been reborn.

"You've been saying that for five years, Coby. If you dislike Captain Nodobe so much, why don't you throw him off the council? Or kill him? That works in the citadel. A nice, clean killing always makes me feel better." Sykox's smile split his tawny muzzle, and the black leopard spots along his shoulders rippled with the effort of carrying a hundred pounds of iron.

Cobiah ran his hands through his hair, mussing up the ribbon that held it. He jerked the thing out, annoyed, and smoothed the hair back behind his ears. "You know I can't do that. The Captain's Council doesn't work that way."

"Well, maybe it should!" Sykox shrugged-an impressive feat, given the circ.u.mstances.

A hot sun beat down on the stones of the plaza, blazing on merchants and sailors alike. In the seven years since the area had been cleared and the first docks built, the newly reconst.i.tuted town of Lion's Arch had prospered and thrived. Merchants had been desperate for a place to s.h.i.+p their trade rather than porting it by dolyak caravan through the dangers of the Maguuma Jungle. The response had been overwhelming, once the harbor was considered "safe." It'd taken only four years, through three attacks by Orrian raiders, to prove Cobiah right. Now the port held a populace of over five thousand, of many different races from all areas of Tyria. The primary rule: leave your bigotry and bias at the gate of the city. Everyone was welcome here. Thus far, it'd worked well.

Now the docks were bustling with trade s.h.i.+ps, and though they weren't always the most reputable businessmen, they always paid their portage fees. s.h.i.+ps of every size and structure came through the Arch: shady dealers from Rata Sum, mercenaries from Ascalon, norn from the far north, and pirates of every stripe from cutthroats to vagabonds. The best of them, the wealthiest, had been offered a chance to invest in the port and join the Captain's Council, of which Cobiah was the head.

It was a tenuous situation at best. Money changed hands frequently, keeping the wheels of commerce turning, and the city had a thriving underbelly of illegal trade. The only person who'd stepped up to take the position of guard captain was a roaring drunkard named Mort Duserm, and the keeper of the biggest store in the city was a strutting, self-centered asura named Yomm. Each captain was expected to keep their crew in line, and they did, for the most part, but the disposition of the city was only as stable as the s.h.i.+ps in the harbor-and every captain had his own idea of how "strict" he wanted to be in observance of the laws.

When something needed to be decided in Lion's Arch, the captains who had purchased a seat on the council were contacted. Those already in the port, or who could make it to the city within a week's sail, would gather to discuss and address the problem. Other than that, and arranging for the small roster of guards to be paid, there was little in the way of bureaucracy governing the settlement. The system had worked when Lion's Arch was little more than a handful of structures cl.u.s.tered around two long docks. But the town had grown.

In the last year or so, the friendly little port had become larger as more s.h.i.+ps started using it. Before, it had been a loose confederation of rogues, pirates, and misfits. Now that it was clearly holding its own against the incursions of the Dead s.h.i.+ps, it was becoming practically respectable-and ironically, that meant there was a lot more crime. Furthermore, the friction was starting to show, and profiteers circled like vultures, waiting to see how they could gain wealth by taking a side in the arguments. Yomm and Nodobe were only two of many.

"I can't kill Nodobe," Cobiah said at last. "It'd cause too much trouble."

The charr engineer bellowed in laughter, clapping his friend's shoulder. "Good old Coby. You had to take a while to think about it!"

Grinning, Cobiah chuckled. "I did. And if we were back on the Pride, maybe I'd have come to a different conclusion. If there was ever a man who could use a good keelhauling, that'd be Nodobe." Striding through the streets of the little town, he continued. "But I have to consider the fact that Captain Nodobe's paid his due, just like the rest of us. Man's got the right to argue his point."

"Pity. I was hoping you'd give him the old 'Gah! Getum!'" Sykox extended his claws and made a silly-looking murder face. Cobiah laughed, and Sykox settled back into their walk. "I don't like Nodobe, either. He wants the council to allocate an additional twenty percent of the town's revenue to building new docks. We can barely defend the five we have now! Bah, the man can argue his point from here to the Orrian deeps for all I care. It's not going to change facts."

They reached the top of the wide stone staircase that led up the cliffside. Below them, the town spread out like a blanket, with some fourteen buildings catering to five long docks. There was an inn, a general market, and a plaza full of carts tended by wandering traders selling odds and ends. Most of the buildings were built on the wreckage of the original stone houses left behind when the floodwaters receded. One or two captains, their s.h.i.+ps irrevocably ruined by Orrian a.s.saults, simply dragged the hulls up onto the beach and built them onto permanent foundations. The s.h.i.+p-buildings were as good as anything else, and Cobiah had to admit it gave the village a certain nautical charm.

"Look, Sykox." Cobiah pointed up toward the cliffs. "They've nearly finished the ramparts on the east face. We'll have those last two bombards installed as soon as the architects say the foundation is stable."

The engineer chuckled. "If they're using the architectural columns from the old temple of Balthazar, they'll be stable."

"Well, of course they a-How can you know that?" Cobiah stared at him. "That temple was washed away by the tsunami. You said you hadn't been to Lion's Arch before the wave hit. How did you know where the temple of Balthazar used to be?"

Sykox looked uncomfortable. "Er . . . thought I'd mentioned this before. We studied the architectural plans of Lion's Arch in the fahrar, when I was a child. The imperator of the Iron Legion was planning for our generation to a.s.sault and seize the city. You know . . . when the charr were done conquering Ascalon." A sheepish smile. "Nothing personal."

"Really? Huh. I grew up begging on the steps of that temple," Cobiah responded with good humor. "It's probably a good thing the charr never got very far along with that plan. We had this one priest named Brother Bilshan. I swear, the man must have been seven feet tall. He fought with a giant war hammer-in each hand. I don't think the fight would have gone well for the charr."

"Maybe so, Coby." Sykox smiled. "Maybe so. I'll give you this-we weren't exactly eager for the duty, that's for sure." The big charr narrowed his eyes to stare past the stone pillars. "Ah . . . and there's the Nomad. As usual, the last to arrive."

Cobiah's smile grew twice as broad. He looked out to sea, where a big galleon was being towed into the harbor by Lion's Arch tugboats. The s.h.i.+p's sails were half-furled upon the yardarms of her two large masts. The flag waving upon her highest point was colored with the gold and green of Kryta, yet this was not a military vessel. It was the Nomad, a merchant s.h.i.+p and occasional privateer with a letter of marque from King Baede himself, signed in Divinity's Reach.

Few Krytan s.h.i.+ps came to Lion's Arch these days. King Baede considered the city a pirate haven: lawless, filled with anarchy and criminals hiding from Krytan justice. To some extent that was true-most of the human s.h.i.+ps that came to the city were there to avoid Krytan ports-but by no means was Lion's Arch completely without laws. Rambunctious, perhaps, and chaotic, but it was ruled by the Captain's Council. Those who threatened the safety of the town met harsh punishment.

But this s.h.i.+p was well known to the citizens of the Arch, and Cobiah felt his heart leap to see her colors. The Nomad's captain was a supporter of their rugged little town, one of the members of the Captain's Council, and known to be the best pilot in the Sea of Sorrows. Isaye's back, Cobiah thought, wis.h.i.+ng he could catch sight of a dark-haired form on the Nomad's deck.

The s.h.i.+p moved slowly past Claw Island, a stony curve near the harbor's mouth. A small defensive fortification was being built there, designed to keep enemies from sailing close enough to bombard the docks. Cranes lifted stone deliveries to a rudimentary dock, placing them carefully on foundations that would one day become walls. It was the crowning jewel of the protection Sykox planned for Lion's Arch, and the charr was understandably proud of it. The fortress would take years to complete, but when it was done, it would guard the mouth of the harbor, providing gunnery posts and defenses as well as early warning if the Dead s.h.i.+ps came in force, as they'd done at Port Stalwart years ago. Still, for now the fortress was little more than a pile of rough-hewn stones and foundation ditches along a rocky stretch of sh.o.r.e.

"Glad to see Isaye could make the council meeting." Sykox hefted his load higher on his shoulder and started down the thoroughfare that ran along the cliff.

"I specifically held it off until she could make it. Her last letter-"

"Her last love letter, you mean, Coby?" Sykox grinned wickedly. "Aw, c'mon, I'm surprised she's not living here with you. When are you going to pop the question and make an honest woman of that pilot, eh?"

Cobiah rolled his eyes. "I'm busy here in town. Isaye wanted to help keep the sea safe for Krytan traders. Our relations.h.i.+p works better when we don't see each other all the time." He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it unconsciously. "I just hope Gr.i.m.j.a.w doesn't give her a hard time when she docks."

"Oh, he would if he could, I a.s.sure you. Gr.i.m.j.a.w can't stand Isaye. Still, I doubt the black-hearted gunrunner will give her any trouble on the docks . . . since he's right over there." Sykox grunted and jutted his muzzle toward the building ahead of them.

In the wide doorway of the town's main store, four charr cl.u.s.tered around a burly, square-shouldered asura. The asura's arms were crossed, and a glower was smeared on his features, belligerence positively dripping from his long sloping ears. Opposite him, the charr sailors were clenching their fists and growling in low tones. Their legionnaire-the captain of their vessel-snarled down at the asura in warlike defiance.

"What's the problem, shopkeep?" Cobiah pushed his way through the charr nonchalantly. Though he managed to sound at ease, he was glad Sykox was by his side. "Is there some kind of disagreement?"

Xeres Gr.i.m.j.a.w was the charr captain, a surly fellow with dark tiger-striped fur, a thick muzzle, and two long snaggled canines. "It's a scam. Nodobe said that his crew gets twenty percent off at the store. I want my crew to have the same. He gives preferential treatment to humans." Gr.i.m.j.a.w said the word scathingly. "This wretched, miserly asura's the problem, and I'm the solution."

"I'll admit one thing, you surly stinkball. I do give Nodobe's crew preferential treatment," Yomm sneered haughtily. "But I do it because I prefer customers who pay their tabs. You and your crew skipped town with seven gold on your ledger. Seven gold!" The asura wrinkled his nose as if he smelled something rancid. Jade-green eyes as hard as stone chips glared at Gr.i.m.j.a.w. "You're a dirty cheat!"

"You copper-counting cutthroat! We'd pay if the prices were fair!" Gr.i.m.j.a.w roared, the furor of his breath blowing back the little asura's ears. "You'll get that gold from us over our blood and bone!"

"Blood, bone. Whatever," Yomm taunted, revealing long rows of teeth. "You're still not getting the rum."

Two of the charr reached for their weapons, jerking them half clear of their sheaths. Cobiah stepped between them quickly, shouting, "Enough! All of you!" Sykox flinched, ready to fight. Among the crowd, Cobiah saw Aysom, the youngest of the charr in the Pride's warband. The golden-maned warrior moved up behind the others, looking to Cobiah for a signal to attack. Since the death of old Grist a few years back, Aysom had taken the post of bosun aboard the Havoc and had grown into a ma.s.sive specimen of his race, each muscular arm as thick as a human thigh. Aysom shook his mane with a growl and looked intimidating.

Sykox s.h.i.+fted the bag of machine parts onto his shoulder like a club. Although Cobiah couldn't see Fa.s.sur, he was certain that the black-furred charr was somewhere nearby, just waiting for an opportunity to strike. Heartened, Cobiah squared his shoulders and met Gr.i.m.j.a.w's eyes. "The Captain's Council meets today. If you think Yomm's prices are unfair, you can make a complaint at the meeting, Gr.i.m.j.a.w. Now, take this out of the street."

Frustrated, the charr knocked it aside. "You're d.a.m.n right I will. And that's not the only complaint I'll be making," he snarled. "I stored four bags of goods in his shop, and he says he's lost them!"

"I didn't lose them." Yomm shook his head, ears flopping smugly. "I sold them, and all the belongings inside them, to pay part of your debts."

"What!" Gr.i.m.j.a.w roared even louder. "You skelk-stinking, ooze-chasing gold monger! Those were my dress uniforms!"

"Really?" Yomm lifted his eyebrows in mock surprise. "With all those spikes? I'd hate to see what the charr consider 'dressing down.'" Pompous to the end, the green-eyed asura tossed his head. "I'll tell you the same thing I tell everyone who uses my storage services: pay your tab or lose your deposit."

"This isn't over, Yomm. Not by a long shot." His whiskers bristling in anger, the striped charr glared at Cobiah. "C'mon, boys." Gesturing for his warband to follow, Gr.i.m.j.a.w stormed away. One of the other charr spat on the hearth of the general store before he turned away. Yomm reached for a pistol at his belt, but Cobiah stepped in front of him and caught the asura's arm. As Gr.i.m.j.a.w and his warband strode off, the shopkeep redirected his anger toward Cobiah. "I demand the right to speak before the council!" Yomm said imperiously. "I have a right to refute these ridiculous claims and demand repayment."

"We've had this discussion before, Yomm." Cobiah shook his head. "What you do with your store is your own business, so long as it's legal." Cobiah's eyes darkened. "You've got the right to refuse them service, but the council can't force Gr.i.m.j.a.w to pay you if he says he doesn't owe anything. He's a captain of the council. Unless you have evidence, we have to trust his word."

"That charr's a liar and a cheat. I've caught his sailors stealing more than once. My 'evidence' is the ledger of debt he owes. I tell you, Marriner, that thieving charr shouldn't be allowed to get away with this." Yomm crossed his arms belligerently. "I'll pack up and leave, that's what I'll do. Without my store to get your goods into Kryta, this town's just a glorified pit stop."

Cobiah sighed and exchanged a glance with Sykox. "I'll bring up your side of the story, Yomm, but you can't come to the meeting unless you're on the council. It just confuses the issue. If everyone in the town showed up and kept interrupting us, we'd never get anything done." More sternly, he added, "You're no captain, Yomm. You abide by the laws we set, or you take your business elsewhere. Don't worry about the town. We'll build another store and make another shopkeep rich."

"Macha will hear about this." Yomm's scowl was as fierce as any charr's.

"Go ahead and tell her. Tell whomever you like." Cobiah stepped down from the shop stairs. "If you think you'll get further with her than with me, you go right ahead and try."

When they were out of earshot, Sykox cracked a smile. "You're a mean cuss, Cobiah Marriner. You realize Macha will eat him alive if that little rat tries to get between the two of you, right?"

"Realize it?" Coby winked devilishly. "I'm counting on it, my friend. I'm absolutely counting on it."

The central building of Lion's Arch was a long well-built pavilion on the eastern cliffs with a magnificent view of the harbor. It was st.u.r.dy, built from the hull of a large galleon and constructed to weather even the coldest of severe winter storms. Since the flooding, the tides and the weather in Lion's Arch had never been quite the same. Meaner, some said. "More protective," Cobiah would reply. The storms made the winter harbor even more difficult to navigate without the tugboats. That kept the Dead s.h.i.+ps away and gave the city a season of relative rest. To Cobiah, it felt as if the G.o.ddess Dwayna were watching over them in the wintertime. Of course, he'd never say that to the charr.

After escorting Cobiah to the council building, Sykox had returned to the Pride to take his bundle of tools and equipment aboard. Each captain was allowed to bring one crew member as aide to the council meetings. Cobiah had learned from experience that bringing any of the charr-even Fa.s.sur or Sykox-only caused trouble. Neither had the patience for long meetings. "Too many brunches, not enough fighting," Sykox would grumble. Macha, on the other hand, actually enjoyed going with him.

She was already inside the foyer of the pavilion, waiting for him, tapping her foot in sullen annoyance. Macha's braids were still dyed all the colors of the rainbow, but in recent years, she'd exchanged her blue feather robe for a plainer set of clothing. She wore a turquoise bracelet around the top of one arm, a mark of her advancement in the asuran colleges-genius first grade. Its inscriptions matched the markings of Macha's invention, a navigational tool she had t.i.tled "the s.e.xtant." The first norn who laughed at the name found himself unable to speak properly for a week. Regardless of that, the instrument had so revolutionized navigation that the city had named a section of the docks after her: Macha's Landing.

Macha glared at him. "You're late," she said grumpily. "I got stuck talking to Nodobe for ten minutes. Ten minutes with that pompous, self-absorbed nincomp.o.o.p is worse than three days in the doldrums with no wind. How could you do that to me?"

"Sorry. I had a little problem with Yomm." Cobiah paused outside the big pavilion, lowering his voice so pa.s.sersby wouldn't overhear. "By the way, he might come talk to you."

"Is this about Gr.i.m.j.a.w and his warband?" She raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "I've heard rumors they're running up tabs and then leaving town. Sometimes it takes months for them to come back, and when they do, they argue the charges before they settle up for the minimum possible. Now, I'm sure Yomm's charging them an arm and a leg above everyone else, but I don't blame him for being angry."

"Angry's one thing, but Yomm's threatening to shut down the store."

Macha paused at that, c.o.c.king an eyebrow. "Is he now? Hm. He might do it if he's mad enough."

"Can we stop him?"

"Is it going to go that badly?" she replied.

Cobiah sighed. "Worse, I think. Yomm wants to set prices according to each s.h.i.+p, so he can charge Gr.i.m.j.a.w's crew more. Gr.i.m.j.a.w wants standard prices for everyone. Most of the other captains will vote with Gr.i.m.j.a.w. Yomm won't like it, but we'll just have to find a way to deal with him."

Macha's expression darkened like a small thundercloud. "Don't underestimate Yomm. He's dangerous, Coby."

"So's a s.h.i.+p full of charr. Do you want to tell Gr.i.m.j.a.w that we're going to let Yomm gouge the captains?"

Macha's ears twitched as she spun the issue around in her head. At last, the asura tossed her rainbow hair and sighed. "Nothing we can do about it out here. Best get inside, Coby, before the other captains vote to hang us while we're not there."

Cobiah chuckled and started walking again, Macha toddling along at his side. "Always practical. How late are we?"

"We are not late." Macha smirked. "You are late. I've already been inside, so they know I'm here."

They walked into the main chamber of the building, where a single long table stretched the length of the room. It could have easily seated thirty people. Today, there were only seven, plus an equal number of aides: seven of the fifteen s.h.i.+ps whose captains had invested in the city. Cobiah's contribution had been the largest, but these captains had each bought a seat on the council so that they could have a say in the city's management. When the beacons were lit, they made their way to Lion's Arch. Today, these captains would set the law.

Four captains were already seated at the table. One was the elegant Captain Nodobe, his dark skin s.h.i.+ning in the sunlight that streamed through the pavilion's high windows. Gr.i.m.j.a.w reclined in a chair farther down the table, speaking to his first officer in low growls. Cobiah recognized the other charr as the burliest of those escorting the legionnaire that morning.

Captain Hedda was also at the table: a broad norn woman whose flabby arms disguised her well-known strength. She was renowned for lifting the entire prow of her s.h.i.+p from the sh.o.r.e and shoving it into the sea during an unexpected low tide. Although the rumor was greater than the truth, it wasn't much of an exaggeration.

The last of the four at the table was old Captain Moran, previously of the Salma's Grace. After retiring from the Krytan military, he'd used his severance to purchase a small clipper of his own, which he'd named the Valor. He'd stayed on good terms with Cobiah and the others over the years and spent more time than not in Lion's Arch. Moran was the only captain who smiled when Cobiah entered the room.

A small cl.u.s.ter of other individuals stood at the far end of the room. One was an asura, bigger and more muscular than most of his people, carrying a heavy war hammer across his back. His name was Captain Tarb, a relative newcomer to the council. His first mate was with him: a pet.i.te human woman named Gamina, only slightly taller than the burly asura. Gamina was slender, with a snub nose and honey-colored hair. Cobiah didn't know much about either of them other than their s.h.i.+p's name, the Priority Divide. It was an odd name for a vessel, and Cobiah didn't get it, but Macha a.s.sured him that the name was extremely meaningful to the asura of Rata Sum.

Neither of them held Cobiah's attention once his eyes fell on the final captain in the room. She was a human woman, tall and athletic, with her dark mane pulled back in a simple ponytail. Hazel eyes caught the sun as she turned her head, and her lips turned up into a charming smile. Clearly, she was as happy to see him as he was to lay eyes on her.

"Oh, great," Macha groaned, ruining the moment. "Isaye brought the bookah."

Indeed, Henst was standing beside Isaye, wearing his typical gear: two swords and a scowl. He placed his traveling rucksack in a corner of the room and took his place standing behind Isaye's chair. It was as if Henst's presence sucked all the joy out of the room, dimming even the sunlight. Henst had served on the Pride for a short time, but difficulties with the charr and a dislike for being thrown overboard made him leave the s.h.i.+p for other work. Yet he stayed in touch with Isaye, and when she commissioned the Nomad, he joined her aboard as first mate. "Predictable. When Isaye's had a good journey, she brings Verahd." Macha hopped into the main chamber, keeping her voice low so that only Cobiah could hear her speaking. "She has a bad one . . ."

"And we get stuck with the squall," Cobiah said, finis.h.i.+ng Macha's sentence with a sigh. Ignoring Henst's scowl, Cobiah crossed the room to greet Isaye, but he'd made it only halfway there when a resounding voice boomed out from the big table.

"Ah, there you are, Captain Marriner." Sidubo Nodobe spoke without rising from his chair, but his thundering ba.s.so voice rumbled in the pavilion. "We feared you were forced to abandon the meeting." There was no other voice like that in all of Lion's Arch-possibly in all of Kryta. Nodobe was Elonian by birth, and when he spoke, it was with a flair for oratory and the distinct, ringing timbre of the people of Vabbi. It was too bad that the warm color of his skin and the generous tone of his voice didn't reach the man's features. Nodobe's smile was brilliant, but his eyes were cold and sharp.

"I wouldn't miss the meeting, Captain Nodobe," Cobiah replied formally. "I, and the Pride, are here to serve Lion's Arch." Cobiah curved his path toward the table, trying not to let his voice reveal his annoyance. Isaye nodded and strode toward the table as well. Their h.e.l.los would just have to wait.

"Then we are fortunate, for today, Lion's Arch needs you. And here you are, ready to face the many problems plaguing our town." Nodobe spread his hands in welcome. Cobiah stopped himself from obviously looking between the man's fingers for a hidden knife. Nodobe smoothly took control of the meeting, directing everyone's attention as if he were wholly, smilingly in charge. Although it rankled, Cobiah wasn't going to let the man see his irritation. He smiled and took a seat, waiting for the others to gather around the table.

Once the last of the captains was seated, Cobiah spoke up before Nodobe could get started. "Lion's Arch is growing more rapidly than we expected. The larger the city becomes, the more we will be a target of Dead s.h.i.+ps, pirates, and other predators. Raiders already patrol the roads from here to the s.h.i.+verpeaks, seeking to take out easy prey. We need to capitalize on the natural defenses of our location, and build more. We need to put those guns on the north cliff. Finish the fortress in the bay-"

"Claw Island?" Nodobe's laugh was condescending. "A doomed undertaking. The sooner we abandon it in favor of realistic improvements, the more certain it is that our little town"-he spread his ebony hands, revealing dusky palms-"will grow into something mighty."

"Mighty?" Macha's eyebrows shot up like hovering seagulls. "What do you mean, 'mighty'?"

"A force to be reckoned with." Nodobe lowered his hands and pressed the palms against the table. "Prosperous. Strong. Independent. Isn't that what we all want?"

"Point of order." Tarb, the burly asura with the war hammer, rapped his knuckles on the table. "Seconds are not allowed to contribute unless directly requested. Macha, be quiet or leave the room." He fixed Macha with an icy gaze, and she returned it in kind. Behind Tarb, Gamina gulped and stared at the floor, s.h.i.+fting from foot to foot in a nervous sort of dance.

"Agreed." Cobiah made no apology for Macha's outburst. He kept his eyes on Nodobe and said, "The simple fact of the matter is that unless we defend the port, it won't matter how 'prosperous' the businesses are in Lion's Arch. They'll be rubble."

Nodobe shook his head. "Cobiah, you're overestimating the threat. The town has survived several attacks in the last six years. We can easily survive more. Our defenses are already adequate."

"Is there such a thing as an adequate defense against the dragons?" Hedda, the heavyset norn woman, tapped long fingernails on the table. She'd painted them red, possibly with the blood of her enemies, but more likely with a bucket of s.h.i.+p's primer.

Farther down the table, Moran sounded unconvinced. "The town's been attacked, all right, but by small groups of s.h.i.+ps. Not a full-on a.s.sault like the one that destroyed Port Stalwart."

"No one's been to Orr and returned. We don't know what they might throw against us. There's no proof the Dead s.h.i.+ps are the worst thing Orr can bring to bear." Hedda frowned.

"They're puny, rotten wrecks." Gr.i.m.j.a.w ran his claws through the fur on his forearm in an idle gesture. "You're scared of s.h.i.+ps that barely sail and gunnery that barely fires. The Orrians are about as efficient as a devourer with a torch between its tails."

"Perhaps," Nodobe said. "We know that nothing we do will stop them from raiding. But we've also seen that Orrian s.h.i.+ps seek out locations they can overwhelm. They'll choose an easier target than Lion's Arch. Hylek villages along the coast. The smaller, private docks at the edge of the Maguuma Jungle. Perhaps the Krytans' new dock at Port n.o.ble. We won't be their first choice-"

"That's your argument? Let them kill somebody other than us?" Cobiah said, mocking him. "These are walking corpses; they're not ogres or grawl. They don't get weaker with every attack; they get stronger. With each battle, they add more undead to their ranks-and more firepower to their armada." An awkward silence settled over the table as each captain pondered this point of view.

"I don't agree with either of you. Make more money? Pfaugh! Build more walls to hide behind? Bah! I say we buy enough s.h.i.+ps to storm Orr and destroy the dragon that lives there once and for all. Anything else is just wasting our time." Gr.i.m.j.a.w snarled, his long canines glinting hungrily. "Cowards, both of you." He glared at Cobiah and Nodobe. "You humans have got to get your fingers out of your noses and try to find your spines."

"That's uncalled for!" Isaye's voice was loudest among the chorus of captains shouting Gr.i.m.j.a.w down. The table erupted into catcalls and shreds of arguments. Captain Tarb finally pounded his fist on the table and raised his bellow over the others, shouting them into silence so he could speak.