The port official had been suspicious, and in order to contact a professional forger, Carlton had left the ship unsupervised. This worried me greatly, and for a good reason. Before Carlton had returned, the Kieran militia had decided to act again, and this time in force. We spotted several dozen, later even more than a hundred soldiers getting into positions along the quay, erecting barricades and artillery. Meanwhile a heavy chain from the bottom of the harbour was pulled taut, to block entry and exit.
Finally, a military officer came aboard, together with a large entourage. I had hoped that they, too, saw the virtual impossibility that our grael was Captain Cortés. The Captain, however, hadn't done too much to emphasise that point, and it was open to speculation to whom Carlton had spoken in the mean time, and to what extent he had blabbed. Hence, this time the Kierans they were determined, more than ever, to investigate all that on their own terms.
Thus, the Captain was given an ultimatum. Ship and crew were to be surrendered within two hours, else they would respond in force. Under the watchful eyes of the Kierans, we consulted, and while most of the crew hadn't had too much say in the chain of the events that had made our ship a national enemy, we suspected that the Kieran judicial system wasn't a very lenient nor discriminating one. Early on, the Captain had decided that going out with a large spectacle was the way to go, but kindly enough, we made plans to evacuate the crew first, across the bottom of the harbour.
So we used the remainder of our time to pack a few belongings, split up our remaining funds, and prepare the Grandpa's Revenge for her final act of defiance. Master Krastus and Kyrie assigned groups of crew members to enchant and accompany. Our magical sails and rigging were too valuable to sacrifice, so we prepared them for evacuation, as well, but since we couldn't take our magical figurehead with us, we could only try to shield it from the explosion as well as possible, and maybe salvage it from the sea afterwards.
As the time drew near, we dove into the water, in the assigned groups, while the Captain stayed on board longer, in order to prime our large cargo of gunpowder we had picked up on our previous visit. We had decided we would disperse into the city in small groups, in order to remain undetected. Once out of the water, I watched the proceedings alone from a space near the harbour, dripping wet and affected with more than a trace of sadness and guilt, but somehow I also felt a tremendous relief.
Our ship was engulfed by a large, fiery explosion that sent a violent shock wave onto the quay, and all over the city, and the crippled carcass sank beneath the waves with what little dignity it had left. To some, it may have been an awesome, beautiful spectacle, to me it largely wasn't.
When I had seen enough, I hustled into the city, amid the chaos and confusion caused by the explosion, and found an inn in which to stay for the night. The following day, at noon, as we had agreed on, I clandestinely met with the other officers and a few of our most trusted crewmen in the tavern "Swollen Eye", where we had stayed months ago, when our adventures had just begun, and it was a fitting symbolism that they ended there, too. I was relieved to see that everyone, including the Captain and Carlton, had survived the escape, and there were new plans to be made.
If the Captain was devastated by the loss of his ship, one could not tell, for with unbridled optimism he was already planning his next voyage. The ship was gone, and there was little money left, but my companions felt there might be a way. To finance a ship, using the good name of the ever-popular Barton Grey, Carlton was to secure a loan from no other than the Kieran National Bank. Over the course of the next few months, we would then find passage to New Madrid, where this ship, possibly a brigantine, would be purpose-built for our next voyage.
I felt that to me personally, moving to New Madrid was a prospect somewhat more attractive than staying in Kiera, so taking a ship there struck me as a good choice. Maybe in a couple of months, with all the bad memories past us, I'd miss the seafaring life, and I'd meet with the others again.
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