9. Council of Kame

Pi increasingly saw the advantages of being an innocent fishing boat. Yes, they traveled incredibly slowly. But they were also impossible to find on the wide ocean. They must have spread the warning posters with his face all over Origina. Everyone was looking for Pi—nobody could find him.

He sailed over the Midterra Sea, which was cold this time of year and an unpleasant place to be stuck on a ship. They were also unfortunate: the Ancient Turtle had recently resurfaced and blocked the ocean for many miles, forcing them to take a wider route.

After many weeks of travel they finally neared the Apire. Placed on the north-west tip of Origina, it was most recognizable by the tall trees and even taller buildings.

The idea of giving up and returning to the Apire was pressing. His family would accept him, sure, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. You had one chance to become a hero for your homeland, and you’d waste it? Pi shivered at the thought.

They sailed on and reached the Dolphin Pass. Once upon a time, this place bustled with activity. Ships moving from Origina to Aprania, or Origina to Garda, and back of course. They traded everything you could possibly trade. When the Seafarers came and told everyone there were even more islands out there than they knew, sea trade became the most important thing on Somnia.

Then the sea bandits came, the buccaneers, and it all stopped. The more valuable your ship, the better your trade, the more likely you were to be plundered and killed. It wasn’t worth it. And the enemy dared call him a bandit?

Only the richest empires, like Casbrita, owned a fleet strong enough to protect their most valuable ships. That had been Pi’s job for years, using the Adventure Galley.

The empires liked to sail tot he Caribean and back again, but never across the Dolphin Pass. Because the Council of Kame was there, and it was regularly called the breeding ground for all that’s dark.

And now his crew counted just three: him, Thorngold and Karlos. The longer the cat was out of water, the more Karlos returned to being his old self. There was something in the water here—a curse, a gift, he didn’t know—but maybe he could use it.

“Karlos,” said Pi. “What can you tell me about that curse? What happened to you since you fell in the water? Tell me all.”

“I already did, captain.”

Pi sighed. “We must … in some way or another … conquer the Council of Kame against at least twenty sea bandits. Does the water have magic? Can we use that?”

“Oh, for sure.” Karlos plucked something from his teeth and studied his reflection in the water. “You do know why it’s called the Dolphin Pass, right?”

“This was Gulvi’s throne, godchild of water and oceans, in the form of a dolphin. Maybe it’s still his throne.”

“The curse is surely some godly magic. A magic flow that seems to go everywhere.”

“But the gods are gone.”

“And what did they leave behind? The Heavenly Objects. Every god had their own magical object which was so strong they couldn’t always have it on them. Many think these objects still exist, spread across Somnia.”

Pi dug into his memory. The lessons of his youth returned to him, when he dreamed of the sea and life as the “best captain ever”. He’d asked his mentors about the world, magic, ships, Gulvi, until they went insane and asked him to shut up.

But this lesson had always been at the forefront of his mind, for it was about his own ancestor.

Gulvi’s Heavenmatter was the Fartherwater. And it fit Karlos’ description perfectly: it showed you visions of the past … or, sometimes, of the future.

Pi took off his uniform. His thick red shawl, his black hat, the long coat he always wore. Soon he was just an ape in his underwear, standing on a fishing boat. He only kept his belt, holding his weapon and tools.

“Erm, captain,” said Thorngold, his face contorted. “What on Somnia ya be doing?”

“The best way to win this fight, is to know all the future moves of your opponent.”

Pi missed his parrot. He had nobody to explore the area of a battle before entering it now. Where was Widagai? Would he still be searching for him?

The Council of Kame appeared in the distance. It was surrounded by countless ships, in a neat row, ready to defend it against him.

Karlos shrank back. “I’m not entering the water. Not entering the water.”

“I, erm, was made more to stand on a ship,” Thorngold said. “Aye, with a cannon.”

Pi nodded. Then he jumped overboard, elegant as a dolphin.

Immediately, he was bombarded with visions. Visions that seemed so real, as if they happened right in front of him, right now, and he’d be able to touch them and influence them. Water and bubbles cooperated to craft powerful illusions left and right.

To his left he spotted a vision from the past: how his ship had been broken into pieces during the attack near Mateshaven.

He shut his eyes. Calm down. Take a breath—no, don’t take a breath under water. When his eyes felt ready to receive more visions, he opened them again.

To his right he saw something that just happened: a very normal day in the fishing boat, as they passed the Apire. Why would the magic show that? It’s not interesting at—

He could influence what he saw.

Future, near future, please.

He felt connected to the Fartherwater, as if he’d always known and understood. It wasn’t a curse to hem; it was coming home.

Future, near future, Council of Kame, how do I win the next fight—give me something.

A new vision flashed through the waves, further away and harder to spot. A monstrous ship added itself to the fight, around sunset. Just like … just like everyone had said who’d touched the curse.

He couldn’t recognize its flag. But a simple bandit who paid for such a large ship? Unlikely.

As a godchild of Gulvi, he’d hoped to be able to stay in the water for longer without breathing. That turned out to be a false hope. He could only see this future vision twice, then he had to return to the surface.

His head swam. His body seemed exhausted, lit and burned until there was nothing left. Still he lingered. He pulled a glass bottle from his belt and tried to catch fragments of the Fartherwater.

Soon after, he broke through the water surface and eagerly gulped for air. First he threw the bottle onto the stern, then he pulled himself back onto the ship.

Thorngold studied him, horn raised. “Hmm. No glassy look. Do you remember your name? What’s ya date of birth? How many horns am I holding—”

“I am fine.” That was a lie. He felt sick in a way he couldn’t explain.

He pointed at a small island just outside the territory of the Council. “We wait there. Near sunset, a ship will appear that is so powerful it should be able to defeat everyone.”

And so they waited.

And they waited even longer.

Several ships were already firing, but never getting even close to them. Warning shots, he thought, or practice shots. Or maybe, for once, he was lucky and their enemies were terrible fighters.

The sun set. The water colored orange, yellow, red.

And then black, because a monstrous ship cast a shadow over it all.

Pi, Thorngold and Karlos secretly pushed their boat alongside, matching its speed. Once close enough, they dug their nails into the expensive wood of the ship’s hull and climbed onto it from the side.

It was called The Wrath. The wrath of the king? The wrath of a buccaneer? Or the wrath of a god?

He received his answer instantly. Hanging from ropes along the edge, they could just about peek onto the deck.

“No, you are the captain.” An ape yelled at a peacock, hands in their hair. “What should we do? What cannons must be loaded? Where should we sail?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know! What do you think that—”

“You’re the captain!”

“Well, then, well, I’d recommend you all read a good book, say I. Something about military strategy or—”

The ape groaned. “We can’t read!”

“Oh, well, not a problem. Tell everyone to come here, I’ll give you an alphabet lesson and—”

“No time!” The ape groaned loudly and tore apart his shirt.

“And you were planning on fighting … in these clothes?”

“Commands, captain, commands.”

“Erm, well, then, raise the sails! Port! Starboard! Load all the cannons and—”

Pi took the chance to climb onto the deck and make himself known.

“I hear you are looking for a real captain.”

He started giving commands. The crew looked at Paunet with some sense of loyalty, but the peacock seemed relieved that someone else took over that duty.

They listened to Pi.

Thorngold ran to the nearest free cannon. Karlos sharpened his nails against the mast. Pi had the ship moving at full pace, in the right direction, before the sun had fully set.

They approached the wall of ships. They were already in frighteningly close range.

But they didn’t attack.

They were fighting other ships closer to the Council. That’s what you get with bandits, thought a smiling Pi, they betray each other over nothing.

He could sink two entire ships before the others noticed and turned around. That’s when Pi noticed his monstrous ship might have looked great … but wasn’t really functional from the inside. Several cannons fell apart at the first touch. Several wooden planks just fell off and slid into the sea.

Pi glared at the peacock in his gown. He crossed his wings.

“The President refused to give me enough gold for a finished ship! Not my fault, say I!”

The more he shot, the faster they sailed, the more parts imploded, bend or outright broke.

The battle field used to be orderly—now it was chaos.

All ships chose a different direction. Attacking the nearest enemy, whoever they were, in whatever state they were, was the only strategy.

The Wrath had to accept several cannonballs before Pi realized another advantage: their cannons shot further than all the others.

He turned around and modified the plan. His ship stayed out of range of everyone else, then merrily shot the two nearest ships to the bottom of the sea.

Pi screamed. The crew screamed. Thorngold fired his cannon, again, and again, until his explosions where brighter than the star-filled sky. Other ships didn’t navigate by star, no, they navigated by the light of Thorngold’s terror of fire.

Pi gave his commands with ease. The line had been broken; they could now move directly into the heart of the Council. Even when ships tried to circle and enclose them, they could still move faster, stay out of range, and just blast them all to pieces. Even though one of the masts broke into two and Pi, in his excitement, broke several spokes of the rudder.

He fought for the king, he told himself with every ship he destroyed absolutely. His goal was not death and destruction—his goal was conquering the Council, spare everyone who surrendered, and turn that place into a legal and well-faring colony.

The Wrath cut through the masses, like a sword perfectly aligned to slice the Council’s core. Wreckage drifted on the waves like ten newborn islands. Enemy ships mixed with parts from his own ship, most of them broken of their own accord. A part of the enemy fleet’s crew had drowned; most of them survived by holding onto other ships or even climbing on board.

Two impressive ships were brave enough to chase them down, but even they were too slow. Pi walked to Thorngold to tell him to aim at their pursuers at all times. Just to be sure.

But the peacock, the actual captain, grabbed his wrist with surprising force.

“Thanks for the aid, I say. But, erm, two matters. When this battle is over, I am captain again. And … what on Somnia do you think you’re doing?”

“Pardon me?”

“Are you not Pi? Highest ranking captain in the royal fleet of Casbrita?”

“Aye. And we’re freeing the Council from all the scummerbags that—”

“On what ship do you think you’re standing?”

A parrot landed on his shoulder. One with a wooden leg.

“Pi!” Widagai yelled out of breath. “The war is over!”

The war … is over?

He looked up. It was hard to see, in the dark of night and through the fog of gunpowder and wood flakes, but The Wrath had the flag of a buccaneer.

He looked to the side. Really looked, as he shook out of his daze. All the ships he’d sunk wore the same glimmering blue flag holding the symbol of the king.

All the buccaneers had left him alone and just watched from the sidelines as he … as he …

But then … but then …

Casbrita had visited the Council themselves to conquer it with twenty strong ships. They would have won … if Pi hadn’t come along and absolutely decimated the entire fleet of Casbrita.

The war has been over for months.

Because of his bad luck, the message had never been able to reach him. He had kept fighting in all those places—Smalljourn, Mateshaven, Lovelily—that were actually at peace with the empire.

All that time, he’d attacked innocent animals in peaceful villages. Because he thought they were still at war, and because he’d received a command from his leader. That’s why they called him a cruel bandit.

But even if we were still at war, he realized. Does that suddenly make it less cruel?

The final Casbrita ships fled. The sea bandits cheered and let Pi dock at the Council harbor, with whatever was left of The Wrath. The Council had been definitively defended in the largest sea battle it had ever seen. A battle that would become known around the world as the Raid of Pi.

They also gave the council a new name.

“Council of Pi!”

“Council of Pi!”

“Council of Pi!”

His dream had come true.

He was a hero—just in the eyes of the wrong group.