This is a fan translation of The Treasure of the Kapitana (Сокровище «Капудании») by the Russian science fiction and fantasy author Vladimir Vasilyev.
I claim no rights to the contents herein.
Chapter 24
Alexander Selinium, Prince Moreau, the waters, Tendra, summer of 864
The last of the sacks of gold were being loaded onto the Queen Svenja while knee-deep in water.
Until that moment, Alexander had been in a stupor, while doing a good job making it look as if he was supervising the loading process.
The Kapudah Pasha's ghost ship was still there, even though the prince had expected it to leave right after the light show in the hold of the sunken Kapitana. The Kapudah Pasha himself and his imperishable crew had gone aboard the ghost ship right after leaving the remains of the Kapitana, but they didn't bring Almea Socrates with them, so she, lonely and lost, spent some time just sitting on the sand some distance away from the Queen Svenja. But when the water got close to her, Ishmael Judah approached her.
"Milady," he said peaceably and convincingly. "Why don't you get on board the brig? It doesn't seem as if your former friends are burning with a desire to shelter a lonely woman."
With those words, he proffered his hand to Almea, and she accepted it.
"By the way," Judah added, helping Almea get up. "Where are you copper-skinned bodyguards?"
"None of your business," Almea replied in an unfriendly manner, walking around a particularly quick section of the land-consuming water.
Judah chuckled and asked again, "Don't those masts over there belong to your father?"
Almea's head shot up, staring at the distant horizon in the vicinity of Tendar's northern edge. There were indeed masts there, and quite a few of them too.
"I'm afraid you're right," Almea seemed to be alarmed. She also went pale a little. "I need to speak with Prince Alexander right away!"
"I think this is best done aboard the Queen Svenja."
"Undoubtedly," Almea agreed and threw a brief glance at Judah's face.
Almea Socrates was beautiful even here, on this wild disappearing island, after visiting a ship that had sunk long ago, with disheveled hair and clothes that had wet sand stuck to them here and there. Even here and looking like that, Almea remained a true aristocrat, and not her appearance and not the wild environment had done anything to ruin this Taurican diamond.
"Ishmael," Almea added quietly before walking up the ramp.
"Yes, milady?"
"Thank you."
It was unexpected, at least Judah hadn't been expecting anything of the sort. But he didn't show it, simply giving her a brisk salute and a slight bow, "Always at your service, milady! Except when His Highness needs me more, of course."
Almea got on board, while Judah headed for Alexander, where he relayed the request of the Galitan viceroy's daughter for a conversation to his prince. Meanwhile, Alexander was tired of splashing around in puddles, plus there was so much gold that it no longer matter how many coins and trinkets the soldiers, sailors, and divers were going to stuff into their pockets. Albion's treasury could consider the next several decades to be comfortably full, assuming the cargo of the Queen Svenja was delivered to its destination.
Alexander went up the gangway and immediately saw Almea Socrates. She was standing some distance away, on the port side, and was staring at the ships coming from the north.
"You wanted to speak with me?" Alexander asked, approaching her.
"I did," Almea said, paused for a few moments, and only then turned to him. "Tell me, Alexander… What were you looking for here? But honestly. It wasn't gold, was it?"
"What about you?"
Almea sighed and shook her head stubbornly, making her luxurious but currently unkempt mane of hair get disheveled and fall all over her shoulders.
"I suppose it's a reasonable question. As a gesture of good will, I'm going to tell you first."
Almea lifted her chin and stared into Alexander's eyes.
"I know you're not married, Alexander. But I doubt this has stopped you from studying the female nature. I know I'm beautiful. But I'm already twenty-four. A few more years, and all this," the girl waved her hand vaguely over her face, "will be gone. No creams or ointments are going to help. I don't want to lose my youth and beauty, Alexander. Do you believe me?"
Alexander chuckled, "It's impossible for me not to. And it's only natural."
"That's why, when I learned that my father was in search of the Kapudana," Almea continued (naturally using the Taurican name for the ship of the ancients), "it caught my attention. I didn't believe tales of treasure, even though there really did turn out to be a lot of gold here. I knew for certain that my father wasn't interested in gold much, although I wouldn't say that it holds no interest to him at all. But I realized fairly quickly that the primary subject of my father's search lies in areas other than financial ones."
"And what is it that you father seeks?"
"Power," Almea shrugged. "He's far from unimportant in Taurica. But he's been feeling a little cramped as of late. I once stole and read one of the ancient document he'd obtained. It was then that I learned that the Kapudana's main treasure isn't gold. It's something that gives power, might, and immortality. And I decided that it was what I needed. If power and might come in addition to immortality and eternal youth, then why not?"
"And then you've decided to beat your father to it," Alexander snorted. "I suppose that makes sense. I won't say that it was what I'd been expecting, but now all your actions can be more or less explained. How did you ally with the skeletons?"
"As it turned out, it was the Kapudan Pasha who slipped my father the document that spoke of the Kapudana. That's why, when the Kapudan Pasha learned that I'd also read the document (although I still have no idea how), he found me himself. Then he said that I was worthier of the true treasure of the Kapudana than my father. Do you think I had a choice? I immediately ran away from my father's home and started my own search. The Kapudan Pasha occasionally helped me, sometimes with words and sometimes with actions."
"And you weren't scared of the fairly extravagant appearance of the Kapudan Pasha and his crew?" the prince inquired.
Almea just shrugged, "Scared? As if I hadn't seen human bones before! True, before meeting the Kapudan Pasha, I'd never seen skeletons in clothes and capable of walking, thinking, and speaking… but was it not the first and most important proof that my search had an actual chance for success? That there was something powerful and supernatural involved here, and that the fairy tales of eternal youth might well turn out to be real after all? I took a chance. In fact, that is why I wanted to speak with you."
"We're speaking already."
"Tell me what you were looking for on the Kapudana, Alexander! Because I'm not feeling any changes in myself, and that frightens me, to be honest."
Alexander thought for a few seconds and decided that nothing bad was going to happen if he described his own tasks and motives on general terms, especially since those tasks had already been completed. Besides, if he really thought about it, Almea was entirely in his power: alone, without even her bodyguards, on his ship…
Alexander Selinium Moreau was risking nothing.
"My story is simpler," he began, trying to speak in as non-flowery manner as possible. "At first I was sent to get gold, that was all. Me and Uncle Freemer, you've seen him in Amasra. Later, after our departure from Londinium, His Majesty King Terence, my father and the ruler of Albion, was struck by an unknown malady. He lives but remains in a deep sleep. The advisors of the crown were also aware that the Kapitana—that is what we call the ship of the ancients—held something capable of healing His Majesty. But no one knew what it was and what it looked like. Therefore, my task was to come here and… to simply go with the flow, submit to events because they could only come together in a single way. I believe everything has already happened. I believe you've obtained your eternal youth, and I the ability to heal my father. Ralph—I'm sure you remember him well—has also likely obtained something similar. Except he is not yet aware of what it is. The Kapudah Pasha has also achieved his own unclear goal, but, I'm afraid—"
The prince was interrupted by a high-pitched ringing sound, as if a myriad crystal glasses suddenly touched one another.
The island had already disappeared underwater entirely by that point; the Queen Svenja was swaying gently in the bay waves. The sailors were pulling in the gangway. At the place where there had been an island only recently, the now-empty Kapitana was glowing underwater. The glow was growing brighter and brighter in time with the rising crystal ringing.
And then another ghostly ship rose from the water, identical to the ghost ship, except it looked decent, almost new. Its sails weren't set, but there was no doubt that they were intact rather than rags.
Moments later, the ghost ship suddenly began to move, ignoring the wind as usual, came in from the stern of its new twin and merged with it; at that moment, the crystal crescendo cut off, and the glow faded as well. A ship was swaying on the waves of the Yahorlyk Bay — an ordinary ship, with no hint of any ghostliness. The wood of the sides was gleaming as if polished, the white rolled up sails lay on the crosstrees, and a crimson flag with a white crescent moon and a white star fluttered in the wind over the stern.
Everyone on the Queen Svenja could see the ship from the stern. And anyone capable of reading could put together the golden letters on the quarterdeck, "CAPUDANIE."
Silence fell over the forecastle of the Queen Svenja. Everyone who hadn't yet climbed down were frozen, staring at the marvelous transformation of the ghost ship. This went on for a while, and no one dared to break the silence, until a human figure appeared on the quarterdeck of the Capudanie. The figure waved to the people looking at it.
"Well, Almea?" the prince asked in a slightly excited tone. "Do you still have any doubt that something… out of the ordinary has occurred?"
The out of the ordinary continued happening. The figure on the stern of the Capudanie was suddenly enveloped by a white cloud and seemed to disappear; the cloud turned into a tiny tornado that transported itself from the stern of the Capudanie to the forecastle of the Queen Svenja in an instant, where it took human form again. The figure was dressed in a luxurious cream-colored cape with a thin lacy shirt underneath, blue satin sirwal with a wide belt, and eastern-looking shoes with tips that curved up. The cape hung down to the shoes.
The man standing before Alexander and Almea had a short, neat beard; his head was crowned by a turban with a large emerald in front. A saber in a scabbard was hanging at his left hip, largely concealed by the cape.
"Your Highness!' the man from the Capudanie addressed the prince. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sirhan Günüç, formerly the Kapudan Pasha. Once I was known by a different name, but I've gotten used to this one over the last several years."
"Sirhan Günüç?" Almea asked in confusion. "The shipbuilder from Pantikapaion?"
"Among others," the man replied evasively.
He was speaking in a completely different manner from the recent leader of the skeletons, who'd been rough and harsh. Sirhan Günüç's speech and mannerisms weren't much different from those of any Taurican aristocrat. With one subtle difference, which Alexander, skilled in such matters, picked up on right away — Sirhan Günüç was speaking to him, an Albionian prince, with respect, but not even as an equal, but as a man who was, while worthy, still young and therefore ignorant. It was the way the King of Albion might have spoken to any of the princes when he was in good humor — as their senior, but without any condescension.
"Your Highness, don't you think that it's time to give your attention to that squadron approaching from the north? They will soon within cannon range. I assure you that Nazim Socrates, enraged by your shtarkh's graceful move, is coming to kill and destroy."
Alexander snapped out of it. Indeed! The brig, laden with incredible treasure, was just drifting in the Yahorlyk Bay and being approached by nearly fifteen ships that might be smaller in size but…
The prince threw a pointed look at Captain Philsby. He understood everything and immediately barked, "Battle stations! Civilians, get below deck! Ready batteries! Officers, prepare your companies for musket fire! Get a move on!"
Everything aboard the Queen Svenja kicked into gear; Judah and his royal guards, plus an oddly sad Ralph Kingfisher, seemed to materialize near Alexander, Sirhan, and Almea.
"Your Highness!" Philsby addressed the prince. "It would be best for you to go to your cabin. We are about—"
"It would indeed be best for you to go to your cabin, as I have something to tell some of you," Sirhan Günüç interjected suddenly. "But there's no need to prepare for battle. Your Highness, Lady Almea, Ralph de Kriam! Pay attention, for this has a direct bearing on what I must tell you!"
He stretched out his right hand in the direction of the approach squadron, the way he'd recently done in the powder magazine of the Capudanie, and seemed to throw something there, towards the horizon. Something invisible.
Nothing happened for several seconds. Then one of the waves halfway between them and the approaching squadron rose above the others. And it kept growing.
It was growing at a frightening speed, rising like a tsunami, until even the tips of the masts of Socrates's quarissas could no longer be seen.
A minute later, the wave collapsed and vanished just as quickly.
The waters around Tendra were calm once again. Only the squadron wasn't there, even though they could see lots of debris and even people swimming and grabbing onto the debris in the water.
"That's it," Sirhan Günüç said casually.
"Oh heavens," Almea pressed her hands to her chest anxiously. "Are they all going to die?"
"Why?" Sirhan shrugged. "Only their ships died. The people can swim to shore. Tendra is very close."
Alexander threw a sideways glance at the girl that sighed with relief.
"Are you that worried about your father?" he asked in surprise. "Strange, I thought—"
"This isn't about my father!" Almea threw her hands up. "There was… I mean is someone else aboard the Romana who I care about."
"Oh…" the prince nodded in understanding. "I see…"
"Your Highness," Captain Philsby addressed the prince in confusion. "Should I tell the men to stand down?"
Alexander threw another glance at the horizon free of masts.
"Tell the gunners and the soldiers to stand down," he ordered firmly. "But the current watch is to remain full."
"Aye-aye, sir… What about the sails? Shall we set them?"
The prince threw a pointed look at Sirhan Günüç.
The other man understood, "You know, I don't think I'm going to go to your cabin! There's already someone here to tell you what you have yet to understand. Set your sails, Your Highness! Safe journey! The shtarkh will protect you from the shoals. As for bandits and other villains, Prince George's squadron is hurrying to meet you at best possible speed. Moreover, I'm letting you know now that I am going to answer the question that you will definitely want to ask me. I'll do it if and when you find me in the future. That applies to you as well, Lady Almea. And now, allow me to take my leave. I have been waiting for this moment for far too long to linger when it finally comes. Until next time!"
Not waiting for an answer, Sirhan Günüç returned to the Capudanie the same way he'd arrived and saluted them from there. Sailors were already crawling all over the masts of the resurrected ship and setting the sails. The sailors no longer looked anything like skeletons, just ordinary people.
"Damn it," Alexander muttered. "I didn't even have time to thank him."
"You can do it when you meet him," Almea said. "There's a reason he hinted at another meeting, after all."
The prince sighed and addressed the captain, "Set sail, William! Indeed, it's time to go home. Where's Ralph? Ralph, why are you so sad?"
Kingfisher, who was standing a short distance away, was indeed as gloomy as a thundercloud.
"The cassat is gone," he informed him in a fallen voice. "I can't find him anywhere."