Mermaid Precinct (ARC)

by Keith R. A. DeCandido

  “Yes. Our last talk the night before her food was poisoned was enthusiasm about going back to Velessa.”

  The half-elf got up again and started pacing. “That’s the second time you’ve said that her food was poisoned.”

  Voran shrugged. “So?”

  She stopped and stared right at him with her pitiless eyes. “How do you know that?”

  Suddenly, Voran was completely confused. This had been going so well, with the entire interrogation going exactly as he’d rehearsed it for the past day in that cell.

  This, though, was unexpected. “Everybody knows she was poisoned.”

  “Yes, that she was poisoned, but not her food. I mean,” the half-elf added, “it could have been her food, but it also could have been a drink or placed in her mouth while she slept. Thanks to the wards the Captain put all over the ship, it was impossible for our M.E. to do a peel-back, and there was no evidence in her cabin of what killed her, so we don’t know the specifics.”

  The Myverin leaned forward. “But you do.”

  Voran just stared at the two lieutenants for several seconds.

  He thought he had accounted for everything. It never occurred to him that they wouldn’t even know as much as when she was poisoned, only that she was poisoned. “I simply assumed that it was her food. Look, what difference does it make?”

  “Quite a bit when you know the specifics of a murder that nobody else knows.”

  The half-elf smiled unpleasantly. “Usually such a person is, in fact, the murderer.”

  Voran laughed, and he hoped it didn’t sound as desperate as he feared it did. “Why would I kill her? My entire mission was to bring her back! Our entire plan relied on her being alive!”

  “No,” the half-elf said, “actually, your entire plan relied on her being willing. And she wasn’t.”

  “Excuse me?” This time Voran’s laughter was derisive, and he meant it. “How could you possibly know what was in the princess’s heart? You never even met her!”

  “I haven’t, no,” the Myverin said, “but Lieutenant Tresyllione knew her quite well.”

  That brought Voran up short even more than the slip about the poison had. “You did?”

  The half-elf sat back down and faced Voran. “I grew up in Sorlin. In fact, I was there when she brought Rodolfo to us. Indeed, that is why I was specifically requested to solve her murder, because Lisson and several other members of the crew know me.”

  Another mystery solved—Voran hadn’t been present for those discussions-cum-arguments between the quartermaster and sailing master. He’d heard muffled yelling, but he’d no idea what it had been about, nor had he known why they set sail for Cliff’s End and talked to these two in the first place.

  The half-elf went on: “And one thing I know about the Captain is that she would never, under any circumstances, endanger the lives of her crew if she could possibly avoid it.”

  Now Voran was completely confused. “Of course she wouldn’t. I think we can all agree on that, can’t we, Lieutenant?”

  “Are you familiar,” the Myverin said suddenly, “with a Fealty Contract?”

  In complete honesty, Voran replied, “No.”

  “It’s a contract that’s administered by the Brotherhood of Wizards,” the lieutenant continued.

  “Ah, that explains it.” Voran leaned back and folded his arms. “I try to avoid dealing with wizards in general. Magick gives me a headache.”

  “Understandable,” the half-elf said. “In this case, magick is what binds the contract.”

  “How so?” Voran asked, curious despite not having the faintest clue what this had to do with Princess Lillyana.

  “If the any of the parties to the contract breaks any of the terms, the consequences are magickal in nature.”

  “As an example,” the Myverin said, “a Misfortune Spell would be cast, causing the party as well as any of the party’s loved ones to suffer eternal bad luck.”

  “Well, that’s certainly a good reason to keep to a contract, but—”

  “Like,” the half-elf said as if Voran hadn’t spoken, “the one Princess Lillyana signed.”

  Voran’s reply died on his lips. “The—the what?”

  “You see,” the Myverin said, “when Princess Lillyana decided to cede her throne to Queen Marta, King Tomsim was dying. If she wasn’t going to take over the throne, it needed to be, not just in writing, but unchangeable writing.”

  “Hence,” the half-elf said, “the Fealty Contract.”

  “The only way that the Pirate Queen could have gone along with your Cabal’s plan would be to violate that contract—which would cast a Misfortune Spell on her and everyone she loved.”

  The half-elf leaned forward. “Which means she would never, under any circumstances, go along with your plan.” She leaned back and smirked. “Well, unless she wanted to fail as the queen of the human lands, since the Misfortune Spell would be disastrous for everyone—but it would also affect everyone she loves, from her crew on down.”

  Voran said nothing. He dared not speak another word. They had known about this Fealty Contract since the questioning started. They’d let him weave out the entire tapestry of the lies he’d told to cover his own failure.

  Though at least now the failure made sense. The stupid princess simply would not say why she wouldn’t go along with it—he was even willing to accept her refusal if it came with a good reason, but she never provided one. If she’d just said she’d signed one of these be-damned Fealty Contracts, he would have been on his way. But no, she just refused, and Voran couldn’t—could not—go back to the Cabal with an out-and-out rejection that was not backed up by a solid basis.

  Had he known about that be-damned contract, he never would have poisoned her and set up one of the others to be framed for it. It had been such a good plan. The others should have devolved into chaos as they tried to figure out who did it, and Voran would have eventually snuck off and headed back to Iaron. If anyone had pressed him, he would have told as much of the truth as he’d told these lieutenants: he was the last person who would have wanted Princess Lillyana dead.

  But he said none of this.

  “Have you nothing to say all of a sudden, Cook?” the half-elf asked with a sneer.

  “No.”

  “Very well.” The half-elf got to her feet. “We’ll take you back to the hole—without the mattress this time—and in the morning, the magistrate will condemn you to boil in oil.”

  Voran coughed. “What?”

  The half-elf stared down at him. “People who kill members of the royal family are boiled in oil. Everybody knows that.”

  “But—”

  The Myverin had also risen. “I’m surprised you didn’t realize the consequences of your action. I suppose you might be able to argue that she wasn’t a member of the royal family at the time you killed her—what with the Fealty Contract and all—but you didn’t know about that, and you killed her knowing full well what her bloodline is, so I can’t imagine the magistrate will accept that argument.”

  Putting his head in his hands, Voran felt his stomach churn and his forehead break out in a sweat. He hadn’t expected to get caught, but even if he had, he figured he would be hanged like a civilized murderer. But boiled in oil? That sounded so very—painful.

  “Of course,” the half-elf said, putting her hand to her chin, “he could possibly plea for a lesser sentence.”

  “That would require him to give up his fellow members of the Cabal,” the Myverin said. “I can’t imagine he would do that.”

  “True.”

  Voran just sat there in the interrogation room long after the two lieutenants left, until some guard came to take him back down to the cell.

  As promised, the mattress was gone. So was the food tray and the reading material. He had no idea when his next meal would be, and the guard who was so friendly earlier wouldn’t speak to him now.

  He was doomed. He’d messed up so very badly, and the only way to avoid being boile
d alive was to give up his friends and associates.

  Was it worth it? He’d probably be hanged either way, so he’d be just as dead.

  Unwilling to make that decision without serious consideration, he lay down on the now-much-more-uncomfortable bunk to consider his options.

  Voran believed in the Cabal’s cause. He did. Truly.

  But was there even a cause left? Elevating Lillyana to the throne was the only way to accomplish their goals quickly and bloodlessly. The backup plans were either long-term or violent—or both. Voran had volunteered for this mission precisely because it was neither of those things.

  Was it worth avoiding the bloodshed that would surely follow now that Princess Lillyana was dead to betray his friends—and give himself a less painful death?

  As he set his head down on the cot, he found himself with no clear answers.

  NINETEEN

  “It amazes me that all this time she was the queen’s sister.”

  Chamblin said those words while sitting in the mess hall on the Rising Jewel. With the Pirate Queen’s killer now incarcerated and awaiting the magistrate’s judgment, Danthres had asked Boneen to remove the wards, which made the quartermaster happy, as it allowed the boat to sail out into the open sea and away from the gawkers on the docks, which made Sergeant Mannit happy.

  Danthres and Torin had joined Chamblin here in the mess hall, along with Lisson and Rodolfo. The two lieutenants had boarded the pirate vessel after Boneen removed the wards, and sailed with them out into the Garamin Sea. Once they’d dropped anchor far enough away that they couldn’t be seen from the docks, the five of them had gathered to discuss what would happen next.

  Lisson asked, “What will happen to Cook?”

  “Never liked him much,” Chamblin said. “Never liked his food or him.”

  “Just last week you were calling him the best cook we’d ever had!”

  “I never said that!” Chamblin folded his small arms over his tiny chest.

  Rodolfo smiled. “You did, actually.”

  “Regardless,” Danthres said before Chamblin and Lisson devolved into another argument, “to answer Lisson’s question, Voran will go before the magistrate. If he gives up the rest of his little Cabal, he might get an easier sentence. If he doesn’t, he’ll likely be boiled in oil.”

  Rodolfo’s face scrunched into an unpleasant frown. “Do the king and queen really do that? I though that was just to scare people.”

  “They did it to Lord Blayk last year,” Torin said.

  Lisson nodded. “Two conspiracies in one year, I can see why they’d want the nastiest penalty.”

  “Actually, this is likely the same conspiracy,” Torin said. “But that’s an issue for the authorities in Velessa and Iaron. If we’re fortunate, Voran will forego an agonizing death in exchange for his fellows.”

  “If we’re not fortunate,” Danthres said with a sigh, “he’ll be boiled and then we’ll have to wait and see what their next scheme is.”

  Torin said, “Meantime, you’ll need to find another cook.”

  “Possibly.” Chamblin glanced at Lisson, who glanced back.

  Danthres recognized the exchange of looks between two people who knew each other very well. She and Torin had spent the last eleven years perfecting similar looks, not to mention watching the king and queen do the same thing at Castle Tomsim. “What is it?”

  “The fact is, I’m not sure there is even to be a ship after this.”

  Rodolfo’s eyes went wide. “What?”

  Chamblin sighed. “I’m tired, Rodolfo. Tired of sailing up and down the Garamin, tired of everyone either being in such awe of us that they do nothing but gawk—like those shitbrains in Cliff’s End—or so frightened of us that they try to kill us as soon as look at us. I’m tired of charting courses, I’m tired of scheming, I’m tired of all of it.”

  “And I’m also tired’a him,” Lisson added with a good-natured smirk. “Only reason the two of us haven’t killed each other is thanks t’the Cap’n. Without her, s’only a matter of time ’fore we strangle each other.”

  Chamblin laughed. “Days, I’d say.”

  “But yeah,” Lisson said, “I’m tired, too. I’ve only stayed this long outta loyalty to the Cap’n. Now? I just wanna retire to a life’a leisure. That’s what we’re all aiming toward in any case—no point in acquiring ill-gotten gains if you can’t spend ’em.”

  “I’d say the same is true for well-gotten ones,” Torin said. “And based on what I understand of your hierarchy, Rodolfo, that would make you next in line to captain the Rising Jewel.”

  Silently, Danthres marveled at the irony that the very motive Voran had falsely ascribed to Rodolfo for poisoning the Captain might wind up being the result of Voran’s own poisoning of her. She also noted that Voran’s observation about Chamblin and Lisson’s desire to remain as pirates without the Captain was completely accurate. Aloud, she said, “Before you comment on that, Rodolfo, there’s something you should know.”

  Rodolfo grinned. “In the last several days, the Captain was killed, I found out she was my mother, and then found out that she was also the older sister of Queen Marta. I’m not sure I can handle too many more revelations, Thressa.”

  “And by the way,” Chamblin grumbled, “I still can’t believe the Captain kept that from us.”

  “She wanted it that way,” Lisson said.

  Chamblin pointed a tiny finger at Lisson. “I especially can’t believe that you knew and I didn’t! I’m her damned second-in-command, I should’ve—”

  “It had nothin’ t’do with that, Chamblin, an’ you know it! You weren’t signed on yet when Rodolfo was born!”

  “You were just a deckhand, and you knew of it!”

  “Kinda hard t’miss the Cap’n bein’ pregnant! Not to mention hidin’ out for most’f a year. But she didn’t want no one else knowin’, so she swore us all t’secrecy. Gotta admit, I thought it was strange when he signed on last year, but I talked to the Cap’n about it, an’ she said he was a good sailor with good references—and no one else’d take ’im after Letashia anyhow.” He shook his head. “Stupid sailors.”

  “There, I’ll agree,” Chamblin said. “We got more good sailors that way, though. When no legit boat’ll hire you ’cause you survived a wreck, we’re a place to go.”

  Grateful that the pair of them had worked their way out of the argument without her having to break it up, Danthres said, “In any event, we told King Marcus and Queen Marta about you.”

  “Really?”

  “You sound surprised,” Danthres said.

  Rodolfo looked away. “I am. I’m not sure they’d appreciate such a reminder.”

  “Despite her chosen way of life,” Torin said, “I inferred no embarrassment or anger regarding your mother from Queen Marta. She spoke of her sister only with love, affection, and regret.”

  Danthres added, “And King Marcus specifically said that, if you wish, you are welcome to travel to Velessa and claim your place in the royal family.”

  “Ha!” Lisson grinned. “From boatswain to pirate prince to prince of the realm in less than a week!”

  Chamblin just grumbled something incoherent, and Danthres feared another argument between the Captain’s lieutenants.

  “What about the Fealty Contract?” Rodolfo asked.

  “It only applies to her,” Torin said. “Your mother didn’t wish any potential offspring to be beholden to a choice she made.”

  “That certainly sounds like her,” Chamblin said. “She may’ve been a secretive little schemer, but she was always a fair one.”

  “She was less secretive than most,” Rodolfo said. “In fact, she was far more open and generous than most so-called ‘legitimate’ ship captains. I also think that she had a plan for me, and only didn’t tell me because of that fairness. She wished me to choose my own path, but she also did what she could to clear that path.” He blew out a breath. “To that end, as much as I am honored by King Marcus’s offer to actually be his n
ephew, I think my place is on Rising Jewel, continuing my mother’s work.”

  “Better a pirate prince than a prince of the realm, then?” Torin asked with a smile.

  “I believe so, yes.” He turned to the other two. “The question is, if the pair of you are truly retiring?”

  “Absolutely,” Chamblin said.

  “As soon as possible,” Lisson added.

  Rodolfo smiled. “Just so. Therefore, do you think the crew would accept me as the new captain?”

  The pair exchanged knowing glances again.

  Lisson finally said, “I think we should tell the crew that you’re the Cap’n’s son, first. It’ll be a relief t’those of us who’ve been keepin’ it quiet all these years, for one thing.”

  Chamblin nodded in agreement. “We’ll speak for your worthiness to take over. Between that and your being the Captain’s actual heir, I suspect that most follow your leadership.”

  “Assuming, of course, that the rest of the crew don’t follow the pair of us into retirement.”

  Danthres got to her feet. “We will leave you to that, then.”

  Lisson also rose. “Thank you, Danthres. And you as well, Lieutenant,” he added with a glance at Torin, who had also gotten up. “I know that the Cap’n woulda wanted it this way—I mean, not t’have been killed. But if she was killed, I think she woulda wanted you t’be the one to solve it.”

  Chamblin did not get up, but he sounded sincere when he said, “And you did solve it, for which you have my gratitude.”

  “And mine, as well,” Rodolfo said. “Assuming the crew accepts me and I do take command, you can rest assured that, should you ever need a favor, Rising Jewel will be at your disposal.”

  “Thank you for that,” Torin said. “And also thank you for what you have shown me these past few days.”

  “What is that?” Rodolfo asked.

  Danthres had been about to ask the question herself, as this was not something she had expected her partner to say.

  “I came to this case with a certain prejudice toward those of your vocation. I had many encounters with pirates during the elven wars—not your Captain, mind you, but others. As Danthres can attest, I was disdainful of you all. I will confess that I still do not think well of your choice to exist outside the law. As a former philosopher of Myverin, as a former soldier in the human army, and as a current detective in the Cliff’s End Castle Guard, I fight for order, where your very existence foments chaos. But one of the things that all three of those occupations have also taught me is not to assume and not to prejudge. Particularly as a detective, I should have put my own issues to one side and focused instead of closing the case. What you have all shown me, in our interviews about the Pirate Queen, and in the loyalty you have all shown for each other, is that, while I may not find nobility in your purpose, there is a great deal of nobility in your community. Your support of your fellows is impressive, and the life you have made for yourselves is to be admired.”