The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  “Ourselves, Your Majesty?” asked Parish with a tilt of his head.

  “Yes.”

  Parish and Dolan exchanged a look.

  “That’s too dangerous, Your Majesty,” said Dolan. “You’ll be a target for the Nazarien.”

  “That can’t be help.”

  “It can,” argued Parish, “by you staying here.”

  Kalas forced a grim smile. “One of the perks to being King is that I get my way. Let’s pretend that you respect that aspect of my position and spare me the haggling. I’m trying very hard not to explode right now.”

  Dolan dropped his gaze and Parish inclined his head in acquiescence.

  Kalas moved past them for the door. “I’d like to talk with the guards before we go. I suggest we all stop standing around. I can promise you my sister isn’t.” With that, he left the dining room.

  * * *

  Tyla leaned forward, straining to see through the fog. She sensed something large in the distance, but the fog made visibility shrink to the area just outside the boat. It wisped around them, reminding her of the mist where she’d talked with her father.

  Jarrett shifted nervously and looked back at Brodie. The old man’s head was lifted and his hands were relaxed on the tiller. He wasn’t worried about the fog in the least. If Tyla could see the sun, she’d judge it was about midday. They’d been sailing for hours, tacking this way and that by some means that she didn’t begin to understand. How Brodie navigated in this soup was beyond her.

  Ahead she saw a darkness loom above them. The fog split, sliding around this massive shape, marking a boundary. A moment later, they glided through, the sun blazing down again. She blinked against the glare and caught her breath.

  An island rose before them – gigantic cliffs of green, long stretches of sandy beaches, towering crags topped with broad canopied trees the likes she’d never seen. The roar of the waves against the shore was deafening, punctuated by the cries of sea birds winging through the spray.

  A bed of jagged rocks broke the ocean’s surface, blocking the way to the island like a rampart around a castle. She tried to see a way between them, but the waves broke against them with each new surge, fragmenting into white foam.

  Brodie turned the boat parallel to the island and Tyla had to shift in her seat to keep it in sight. There were no domes of green glass, no alien creatures coming to greet them. The beaches were empty and the cliffs rose high above her head, a solid expanse of jagged stone and brambles.

  “There she is,” whispered Brodie behind her. “The island of Delure.”

  “Who named her?” she asked, never taking her eyes from the sight.

  “Don’t know. She’s been a legend since I could remember. Every sailor knows her name, but few have found her.”

  “Have you ever set foot on her?”

  Brodie didn’t answer for a moment, then he exhaled. “Legend also says she’s haunted by monsters seven feet tall. Never believed it was true, until Jax. Still, I wasn’t about to risk it.”

  “How did you know where the island was?”

  “Found her on accident about twenty years ago. Got caught out in a storm, and suddenly there she was. Came through the fog and saw this. I tracked her bearings as I made my way back to land, so I could find her again. Sure enough, I did. I’ve never forgot how to get here.”

  “Yet you won’t go ashore?” came Jarrett’s surly voice.

  Tyla looked down at the side of the boat, waiting for Brodie’s answer. None came. She shifted in her seat and studied him.

  He fingered the tiller and then nodded at the shore. “Shouldn’t be a bad swim. At least it’ll be warm, being summer and all.”

  Tyla started to respond, but she saw Jarrett’s hand slide to his sword hilt.

  “We’re not swimming from here. Take us in closer,” he said.

  Brodie’s jaw grew stubborn. “See them rocks. You want me to smash my boat on them? I can’t get any closer. You’ll have to swim.”

  Jarrett’s body tensed. Tyla recognized the look. Brodie was a fool to challenge him. She knew she should intervene, but she honestly didn’t think she could swim that distance.

  “I wasn’t making a request. I was giving you an order. Take the boat closer to shore.”

  Brodie’s disbelieving gaze shifted to Tyla. “I can’t get past the rocks,” he said, motioning toward them.

  Jarrett leaned forward. “Find a way. Sail around the island. I don’t care what you do, but bring us closer to shore.”

  Brodie looked like he might argue, but Tyla gave him a sharp shake of her head. He clenched his jaw and tightened his hold on the tiller, shifting the boom and belling out the sails. They tracked around the island a bit until the jagged rocks fell away. Tyla tried to peer ahead and see if they lay below the surface, but the froth on the waves prevented her.

  Somehow Brodie knew where to sail. Tyla was grateful for his expertise. He brought them closer to shore, then climbed into the bow and released the anchor. Climbing back to the tiller, he nodded over the edge.

  “You should be able to touch the bottom from here,” he said.

  Tyla slid around in her seat as Jarrett rose. “You go first,” said Jarrett.

  Brodie’s eyes widened and he turned to Tyla. “That wasn’t the agreement. You asked me to take you to the island, nothing more. That doesn’t include going ashore.”

  Tyla started to answer, but Jarrett stepped in front of her, obstructing her view of Brodie. “The minute we climb off this boat, you’ll pull anchor and head back to Kazden.”

  Brodie’s eyes whipped back to his face.

  “You’re going ashore with us.”

  “Oh no I’m not. That wasn’t the agreement. I made it clear I got no desire to see them aliens. I also don’t need that pox. I didn’t sign up to do anything else but sail you out here. The rest is up to you.”

  Jarrett’s hand lowered to his sword again. “You’ll go over the side or I’ll throw you, but either way you’re coming. I’m not going to be left out here.”

  A strange look entered Brodie’s eyes and his hand tightened on the tiller. Tyla opened her mouth to shout a warning, but before she could speak, the boom shifted, swinging toward them.

  “Down!” Jarrett shouted.

  She saw him dive for the bottom of the boat and tried to do the same. She wasn’t as quick as he was and the boom raked across her back, bringing a gasp of pain to her lips. When she lifted her head again, Jarrett had Brodie pinned against the tiller, the tip of his sword pressed to the old man’s throat.

  “Tyla, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, struggling to climb to her feet. The boom had swung back in place, but the sails snapped, straining the boat against the anchor.

  Brodie gave Jarrett a defiant look. “You won’t kill me.”

  Idiot. He wouldn’t brave the island, but he’d challenge a Nazarien warrior at sword point.

  “I wouldn’t provoke him if I were you,” she said, rubbing her shoulder where the boom had raked her.

  Apparently, Brodie didn’t care. “You won’t kill me because you need me to sail you back to Kazden.”

  Jarrett gave him a slow smile. Tyla had never seen him look so homicidal. “I need the boat, not you. If it takes me ten years, I’ll find a way to pilot this craft, but you, you are dispensable.”

  The smug expression on Brodie’s face fell. His eyes shifted to Tyla. She shrugged. She wasn’t feeling as sympathetic toward him as she might another time.

  The sword never wavered beneath his chin. “You have two choices. One, get your ass in the water and walk to shore, or two, sit here and I’ll paint your boat red with your blood.”

  Brodie hesitated a moment more. Jarrett shifted the slightest amount and a line of red appeared in the stubble on the old man’s chin. He hissed in fear and drew back, then he scrambled around Jarrett and grabbed his pack.

  “I have to pull down the sails,” he said.

  Jarrett didn’t replace hi
s sword. “Hurry up, and if anything else swings at my head, consider yourself a dead man.”

  “All right, all right,” he said, scrambling for the sails.

  Jarrett eased up beside Tyla. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  She resisted the impulse to rub her shoulder some more. “I’m fine.”

  “Go into the cabin and see if he has anything we can use. A lantern or fuel of any sort, while I make sure he doesn’t do something stupid.”

  Tyla nodded and grabbed their pack, moving toward the entrance of the cabin. “Try not to kill him.”

  “I’ll try, but there are no guarantees.” He gave her a wild eyed look, reminding her of the old Jarrett more than he had since they began this journey.

  She smiled, so damn happy to see a spark of the man she’d loved in him, then she ducked below the deck.

  CHAPTER 14

  The Blue Sturgeon didn’t have an official sign above the entrance. Someone had scrawled the letters on a piece of crate and tacked it in the window by the door. Kalas didn’t think the building had started life as a tavern. It looked more like a house than anything else.

  Soldiers moved into the narrow alleyway on the right of the building and secured it, while Parish and Attis moved to the door. The Blue Sturgeon abutted the street, no transition, no walkway, just paving stones, then door.

  Kalas drew a deep breath and waited for Parish to push open the door and step inside. As he moved to enter behind him, Attis held out an arm, blocking him. Kalas gave the Cult member a frown.

  “Let us secure the location first, Your Majesty.”

  Kalas resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. He felt like he was more exposed on the street, but who was he to argue with those paid to guard his life? Just getting Dolan to agree to his coming had taken all of his kingly resolve.

  Ellette offered him a scathing look. She’d been giving him the evil eye since they left the manor.

  “What? Why do you keep glaring at me like that?”

  “You take stupid risks,” she said coolly. “You put your security and your soldiers in unnecessary jeopardy.”

  “You’re one to talk. Let’s not forget who’s King and who is mediocre assassin.”

  She made a strange noise. He’d suspect it was laughter if he didn’t know better. “I stand corrected, Your Majesty. Who can argue with such non sequiturs?”

  He started to respond, but Attis appeared in the doorway.

  “The room is secure.”

  He pushed past Ellette and entered. Dolan immediately moved to his left side. The tavern occupied one room with a fireplace and a few booths along the right wall. Two men sat at a booth, but they were motionless, guarded by three soldiers.

  Parish stood before a long bar that took up the back half of the room. A blond woman, whose bust-line strained the bodice of her dress, stood next to him. The hem of her skirt came to mid-thigh and she had a dirty apron tied around her waist.

  Behind the bar leaned a large man with blunt features. He eyed the assembly, then snapped to attention once he saw Kalas. The woman gave a whistle and moved away from Parish.

  “As I live and breathe,” she said, her eyes tracking a path up and down Kalas’ body, “Your Majesty, you are most welcome here. Them drawings of you sure don’t do you a bit of justice. Anything you want, you just ask, baby.”

  Before Kalas could respond, Ellette blocked the woman, a knife in her hand. “I suggest you have some respect,” she snarled.

  The woman’s eyes widened and she held her hands out to the side.

  Kalas was taken aback by Ellette’s response. “Stand down, Ellette,” he ordered. “And put the knife away.” He turned to Dolan. “Where did she get a weapon?”

  Dolan looked alarmed as well. “I’m not sure.”

  Kalas dismissed it and focused on the woman again. “What is your name?”

  The woman recovered from her fright and a broad smile spread across her face. “Junelle, Your Majesty. Greyburn and I own this establishment.” She winked at him. “He’s my brother, if you were wondering.”

  He wasn’t, but he didn’t tell her that. “Junelle, I’m looking for my sister. She may have come in here last night. About this tall,” he said, indicating with his hand, “mass of black curls, green eyes. She would have been with a tall Nazarien.”

  Junelle nodded enthusiastically. “Handsome devil, but nothing compared to you, Your Majesty. I’ll say those eyes of yours are something special.”

  Kalas marked the uncomfortable expression on his soldiers’ faces. Parish was smiling with his arms crossed over his chest, but Ellette looked like she was a moment from gutting the tavern owner.

  “Thank you, but this is important, Junelle. I need to find my sister. She did come in here last night, yes?”

  “Yes, looking for an old fisherman by the name of Brodie.”

  Kalas took a step closer to her. “Do you know Brodie?”

  “Oh, yes, Greyburn and me rent him a room above our tavern.” She pointed at the ceiling. “Your sister and her man went up there too. I can show you.”

  She headed toward the door. Kalas turned to follow her, but Attis hurried between them and Dolan motioned Kalas to hold back. Junelle led them from the tavern and to the alleyway on the right. Soldiers still fanned the length of it, but Junelle took the narrow staircase, reaching for a key ring tied to the strings on her apron.

  Attis, then Ellette mounted the stairs before Kalas; Dolan and Parish brought up the rear. At the landing, Junelle gave a mewl of protest, causing Attis to push past her and inspect the door. He shoved it open with no resistance and disappeared inside. Ellette shouldered the woman back and stepped inside as well.

  Kalas climbed to the landing and looked to where Junelle pointed. Someone had forced the door in, broken the lock, and splintered the door frame. Attis loomed in the entrance, startling the two of them.

  “It’s clear,” he said.

  Kalas motioned for Junelle to precede him, then he stepped over the threshold. A dingy, dark room met his gaze and he waited for a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloomy interior. Gradually, he saw a couch, a rickety table and two chairs, and a small kitchen with a few dusty cabinets.

  It certainly wasn’t much of a room. He wondered how much Junelle and Greyburn charged the old sailor for it.

  “Looks like a struggle out here,” said Parish, moving into the room. “The banister is cracked and the door is nearly off the hinge.”

  “Did you hear anything downstairs?” Kalas asked Junelle. She was standing as close to him as she could.

  “No, but when the Blue Sturgeon’s full, it’s hard to hear.”

  “Was it full last night?”

  “Nearly so.” She reached out and took his arm, pressing against his side. “You don’t think anything happened to Brodie, do you, Your Majesty? This just scares me to death.”

  Ellette looked like she was about to shoot flames from her eyes. Kalas found it a bit amusing.

  “I don’t know. I hope not.” Tyla. What had she gotten herself into now? “Do you know where Brodie keeps his boat?”

  Junelle pressed tighter against him. “The docks, of course. That’s where everyone keeps their boats.”

  “Do you know which one specifically?”

  “Oh,” she said, her breath fanning against the side of his throat. “No, I don’t know which one. There are a lot of docks, but it can’t be too far from here. It would have to be someplace where he could check on it often.”

  Kalas met Parish’s gaze.

  “I’m on it,” he said, motioning to two of his soldiers, who left the room immediately.

  Kalas patted Junelle’s hand and carefully extricated himself from her grip. “Thank you for your assistance. I appreciate it.”

  She clung to his hand, pressing it to her bosom. “It’s my pleasure, Your Majesty. And should you need anything else…anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  Kalas forced a smile and motioned to the Cult member. �
�Attis, see the lady back downstairs, please.”

  Attis made a grunt of annoyance, but he moved toward the door, motioning for her to follow. She finally released the King and backed away, smiling furiously the entire time. When she was gone, Kalas met Ellette’s venomous look.

  “What?”

  “Anything you need,” she mocked in a fair impression of Junelle.

  Parish chuckled. “You certainly are your father’s son.”

  Kalas glared at him, then turned to Ellette. “What are you talking about?”

  “Tell me, Your Majesty, are men really that enamored of such overblown protuberances?”

  Kalas shared a bewildered look with Parish. “Protuberances?”

  She motioned at her chest. “Protuberances.”

  Parish gave a bark of laughter and Kalas chuckled. “I can tell you with great confidence, Mediocre Assassin, that yes, men are enamored of such things.”

  She tossed back the hair over her eye. “Just proves that men are inferior.” With another glare, she moved toward the door.

  Kalas watched her until she disappeared onto the landing. He felt Dolan’s gaze and met it.

  “It is a dangerous game you play, Your Majesty,” he said. “Nazarien do not understand such games.”

  Kalas’ expression sobered, but he didn’t know how to respond. He had to admit that Ellette’s reaction to the other woman amused him, but he wasn’t sure why.

  * * *

  Jarrett hung back in the surf, watching Brodie and Tyla pull themselves onto the beach. Tyla dropped her pack and sank to her knees, while Brodie bent over at the waist, bracing his hands on his thighs.

  Keeping an eye on Brodie, Jarrett moved to Tyla’s side, lowering his sword. He’d held the blade over his head, not wanting it or the sheath to get wet in the ocean. As he strapped it around his waist again, he surveyed the island.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  They’d had to wade a few hundred yards into the beach, but the surf was relatively calm and they’d been able to touch ground most of the way, still Tyla was panting heavily.