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Pirates & Privateers

Page 11

by Jane Glatt

“Now I’m not sure,” Calder said. “He told me that a Trait said you needed to be found.”

  “Whose?” Dagrun asked.

  “He didn’t say,” Calder replied. His own Trait was still focused.

  “Because no one has a Trait that works that way,” Dagrun said. “Joosep lied about that.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I told you; my Trait.” She frowned. “But why did he lie? Did he mention Tarmo Holt?”

  “No.” Calder stopped. Dagrun already knew something about Tarmo Holt. Did she know he was collecting twins? Looking for those with Traits so he could harness their talents for himself?

  “You have information about Holt,” Dagrun said. “I’ll tell you what I know if you tell me what you know.”

  “All right,” Calder agreed. He didn’t think his information was something he couldn’t share. Especially with another Intelligencer.

  DAGRUN WATCHED CALDER Rahmson, wondering why he’d agreed to her terms so easily. She didn’t know much about him; did he have his own doubts about Joosep?

  “Tarmo Holt was pressuring my sister to bear children for him,” she said. “And Joosep helped him.”

  “How did he help him?”

  Dag noticed that Calder didn’t ask about children. Had he already found out about that?

  “He waited until I was on assignment—my first assignment—then he told Inger that Holt wanted to speak to her.” She was still angry about this. “When she stalled, Joosep kept pressing her to meet with him. When she finally did and then refused his request, Holt threatened to have Joosep send me into danger.” She paused. How much could she say without exposing Inger’s—and her own—Trait? “Inger believed him and ran away.”

  “Why didn’t she stay and wait for . . .” Calder paused. “That was your first assignment as an Intelligencer?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t mention that she thought Joosep might have created it in order to get her out of the way. Joosep knew she would have figured out what was really happening. But saying that could expose her Trait, and she wasn’t sure she could trust Calder with that.

  “Joosep would never put any Intelligencer at risk and especially not someone just out of training.” He frowned. “You knew that but Inger didn’t.”

  “She does now,” Dag said. “But still, Joosep had her meet with Holt. Holt’s up to something.”

  “He’s looking for Traits,” Calder said. “I saw him tell someone to find twins. Right after sending a pair away because they were too young.”

  “Traits,” Dag repeated. And her Trait in particular, why else would he be interested in Inger’s children? “Is it usual for the Master Intelligencer to tell the Grand Freeholder what Traits are at work on behalf of the Three?”

  “No.” Calder actually looked worried, so Dag was pretty sure he was telling the truth. And probably wondering if Holt knew what his own Trait was. “The Master Intelligencer never tells anyone about Traits—not even the instructors, although I think they figure some of them out.”

  “But not yours,” Dag said. Nor mine, she thought but didn’t say.

  “No one has ever figured out mine.” Calder gave her a long look. “Until you.”

  Dag shrugged. He might find out what her Trait was—he was Lucky, after all—but not from her. At least not right now.

  There was a noise from the hallway and then the door opened.

  “Hey, Dag . . .” Inger stopped talking when she saw Calder.

  “Quick, get in here,” Dag said. She hopped off her bed and pulled the still-surprised Inger into the room. “Quiet.”

  “Is that Calder?” Inger asked. “What’s he doing here?”

  “Shhh,” Dag said. She sat back down on her bed and patted the spot beside her. “He came looking for me. I’m wanted back at the Hall.”

  Inger sat down and looked directly at Calder. “Joosep sent you?”

  “Yes,” Calder said.

  “I’ve been telling him what happened,” Dag said. “With Joosep and Tarmo Holt.”

  “I’m not going back,” Inger said. She turned to Dag. “I told you already.”

  “I was only sent for Dagrun,” Calder said.

  “Of course, you were,” Inger said with a sneer. “Joosep doesn’t care about me. No one cares about me.”

  “Inger, that’s not true.” Dag was hurt—she’d come all this way for her sister and now she was saying that she didn’t care?

  “Well, not you, of course,” Inger said. “You should know I didn’t mean you. But Joosep forced me to meet with Tarmo Holt, who only wants to use me.”

  “Yes,” Dag said. “And Calder shed some light on that. Like we thought, Holt is looking for twins with Traits.”

  “But twins run in some families,” Calder said. “If they run in yours, does Joosep know?”

  “Yes,” Dag said. “To both of your questions. Our mother is a twin, although her twin did not survive birth. Joosep knows that.”

  “So, we have to assume Holt knows that too,” Calder said. He turned to Inger. “I think you’re right to stay away. Something is going on—Holt has something planned—but I don’t know what.”

  “Don’t worry,” Inger said. “Dag will figure it out.”

  “Eventually,” Dag said. She wanted to signal to Inger to not say anything more, but she knew Calder would catch that and then he’d know that Inger had said something important. Or was that how his Trait worked? People just said things they shouldn’t in his presence?

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know when you do,” Calder said, and Dag caught that he said when not if.

  “Are you staying long?” Dag said. “I’m not ready to return to the Hall.”

  “I can’t leave on the ship I came on,” Calder said. “I told them I was heading to the Sapphire Sea. I need to wait for the next ship going west.”

  “Captain Ansdottir goes to North Tarklee every few weeks or so,” Inger blurted out. “You might be able to travel with her.”

  “That’s how both Inger and I got here,” Dag said, not telling him that she stowed away. Or that Margit Ansdottir didn’t like her much.

  “Thanks,” Calder said. “I’ll look into that. In the meantime, we need to pretend that we don’t know each other so I can keep up the story I gave when I shipped in here.” He pulled out a handful of coins. “But I’ll share Joosep’s generosity with you if you need it.”

  Dag held out her hand but Inger slapped it away.

  “I don’t want anything from him,” she said.

  “All right,” Calder got up. “Next time we meet, we’re strangers.” He nodded and left.

  “What was that about?” Dag asked Inger. “Because I wouldn’t mind taking Joosep’s coin and spending it on figuring out what he’s up to.”

  “Oh, sorry,” Inger said. “I didn’t think of that. When did you run into Calder Rahmson?”

  “He found me,” Dag said. “I was out behind the tavern. I don’t think anyone saw him come in with me.”

  “Well, I wish he’d leave,” Inger said. “I don’t like that he came all this way to take you back.”

  “Neither do I,” Dag replied, wondering how long Joosep had waited before sending Calder after her. Granted, she hadn’t actually had permission to leave North Tarklee, but once he’d found out she had left he should have given her more than a day or two. What was so urgent and important that Joosep needed her back at the Hall?

  “I have to get to work,” Inger said. “Come by for some dinner later. Oh, I almost forgot. Ursa was really impressed that you walked around the island. She said she’d love the chance to ask you about it.” Inger left and Dag listened to her footsteps fade.

  Ursa Ozlinch wanted to know about her walk around the island. Dag would bet she was worried about what she’d found. She’d tell her the truth—about the walk and the children. She wouldn’t mention the stored weapons in the forest, of course, or that she’d seen the pirates. But she would talk to her. Dag had a feeling Ursa knew all of Strongr
ock’s secrets.

  Chapter 8

  CALDER WANDERED INTO the tavern—it was the only place for him to get a meal—just as it was opening for business. He was hungry: he’d missed lunch, so he was hoping for an early dinner.

  Inger was there, along with Ursa Ozlinch.

  “Ursa,” he overheard Inger say to her. “Espen heard that the ship is still docked—and will be overnight, so are we . . .”

  “The crew can eat but if the sailor who put his hand on you comes in, I’ll deal with him,” Ursa said. “And the ones that were with him? Charge them whatever you want. But tell them up front.”

  “Thanks,” Inger said. She walked away with a smile, which faltered when she saw him. Thankfully, Ursa didn’t seem to notice Inger’s reaction to him.

  Calder sat down at a table and Inger came over to him.

  “What can I get you?”

  “An ale and whatever stew you have tonight,” Calder said, making sure his voice carried to Ursa. “And I came in on the Bright Breeze, but I hope you don’t hold that against me. They took a dislike to me and me to them, although there are a few decent folk on that ship. In fact, I’m not welcome on board and have taken a room at the inn.” He smiled over at Ursa, who acknowledged him with a nod.

  “You weren’t with the group who was in here earlier, so you’re welcome to eat here,” Inger said. “I’ll just be a moment.”

  Calder leaned back in his chair as Inger left. The only other customer in the tavern—he suppressed a smile—was Hanne the tattle, who sat at a table near the back.

  Ursa Ozlinch seemed to be counting mugs at the bar, but Calder knew she was watching him. He didn’t know what had happened with some of his former crewmates; he could only hope it didn’t adversely affect him.

  Inger came back and set a mug and a bowl down in front of him. Calder thanked her before she moved off.

  He spent the next few minutes eating. The stew was decent: it could have used more spices, but he thought that about most meals he hadn’t cooked himself. The Pilalian side of him liked a meal with heat and flavour.

  When Inger wandered by, he asked for a second bowl of stew, and when she’d gone to fetch it, a group of sailors from the Bright Breeze walked in. He recognized Steen—the one who had threatened him—and Nils.

  “Look who it is,” Steen said, pointing at Calder. “The sailor who can’t follow simple orders.”

  “Shhh,” Nils said. “We already had trouble in here, we don’t need more.”

  “This is a place of business,” Steen replied. He was loud and Calder wondered if he’d already been drinking. While in port many ships opened their casks on board, but they were usually strict about how much each sailor was allowed to drink. “And I have coin.”

  Inger came out from the kitchen with Calder’s stew, and Steen stepped in front of her.

  “Hello, lovely,” Steen said. Inger tried to dodge him, but the sailor kept stepping in front of her.

  Calder stood up. “If you have a problem with me, then talk to me about it,” Calder said. “I’d be happy to discuss the issue with you outside.” He took a step towards Steen, and Inger sent him a grateful look.

  Ursa Ozlinch had already come out from behind the bar. An imposing woman, she was taller than either of the sailors and broader as well. The way she was brandishing a large knife demonstrated that she knew how to use it for more than carving a roast.

  “Get out of my tavern,” Ursa said. “And tell the rest of your crew that none of you are welcome.”

  “But I haven’t eaten yet,” Steen said. Nils was trying to pull him away.

  Calder took a step closer. Steen was still trying to keep Inger from getting past him, and he didn’t seem to understand the threat Ursa posed. If he could, Calder would stop it from reaching the point of bloodshed.

  “I think you should heed the lady’s warning, Steen,” Calder said. “And go back to the Bright Breeze.”

  “Who asked you?” Steen finally pulled his attention away from Inger and focused it on him. But he was still ignoring Ursa. “You’re just a skit sailor who almost got us killed.”

  “You’ve got that wrong.”

  Calder whipped his head around in time to see Charis close the tavern door. The First Mate walked slowly towards Nils and Steen.

  “If Rahm here hadn’t done what he’d done,” Charis continued, “we’d all be on the rocks off Ostland. You’d understand that if you knew how to sail.”

  “You’re wrong,” Steen said. “I seen how angry the captain was.”

  “Yes, he was angry,” Charis said. He was only a few steps from Steen now. Ursa had backed away and now stood protectively beside Inger.

  “It doesn’t change the fact that if Rahm had followed the captain’s orders most of us would be dead.” Charis stopped in front of Steen. He punched Steen, who hit the floor, clutching his jaw. “Get him out of here,” Charis said to Nils, who grabbed Steen under his arms and dragged him away.

  “Captain will hear of this,” Steen managed to croak out.

  “He won’t care,” Charis said. He met Calder’s eyes and shrugged. “I spoke to Captain Olmar and he couldn’t see the truth even when it was pointed out to him. So, I quit. I’m not interested in dying on the Bright Breeze.”

  “I can’t blame you,” Calder said. He gestured to an empty chair at his table. “Feel free to join me,” he said. “We’ll probably be seeing enough of each other. I’m waiting on a ship; you too now, I’d guess.”

  “I hadn’t thought that far out,” Charis replied, “but I suppose that’s the case.” He sat down, looked over at Ursa and blinked slowly. Calder wondered what that meant, but then Inger brought his second bowl of stew and took Charis’ order.

  “Was this your first voyage with Captain Olmar?” Calder asked.

  “Third,” Charis replied. “But the first travelling this far. The Bright Breeze isn’t a log hauler but we’ve mostly been up and down the coast hauling timber to the shipbuilders on Lavais. I didn’t realize Olmar had no idea how to sail past Ostland. The man would have scuttled us if you hadn’t been there.”

  “Maybe not,” Calder said despite knowing that there was a very good chance they would have. Something about Charis didn’t ring true. “Did the Bright Breeze bring timber to Strongrock?” Even Hanne hadn’t heard what the ship was hauling, but the First Mate would know.

  “No,” Charis said. “Ahh, here’s my dinner.”

  Inger set a mug down alongside a plate of fried fish and fresh bread and butter. Charis started to eat and Calder wondered if he had deliberately ignored his question.

  Calder pushed his empty stew bowl away and fished out some coin. “Well, that’s it for me. Have a good evening, Charis,” he said and stood up. His Trait would help him find the information he needed when he needed it. And he’d always found it better to look like he wasn’t interested. Nobody trusted someone who was too curious.

  Charis waved a forkful of fish at him as Calder headed out. A group of Bright Breeze crewmen were huddled together a few paces away from the tavern, and he heard Charis being cursed. Calder walked in the opposite direction, toward the inn and his room. It felt like a good time to stay away from the trouble he thought was brewing tonight.

  A LOUD NOISE jerked him awake. Calder peered out the window of his room to see a group of people in the square that surrounded the well. The sun had set and half a dozen people held torches. Someone picked up a log and swung it at a small cabin on the other side of the square. It hit with a thud and a few enthusiastic shouts followed.

  He briefly thought about staying in his room, but instead he shoved his boots on—this could be one of those times where bare feet could be hazardous—and left. What was happening might not have anything to do with his assignment, but it could still affect him.

  After making sure the door to his room was locked, Calder strode out the front door of the inn.

  Now that he was close he recognized some of the Bright Breeze crew. Steen stood in the mid
dle of the crowd, waving a log above his head.

  A dark figure split from the group and headed into the shadows, and curious, Calder followed them.

  The path wasn’t well used like those around the inn and the tavern, but it was travelled often enough that it wasn’t overgrown. The path led directly to a small house, and even in the moonlight, Calder could see that it had been built to be defended: the windows on the front were mere slits, and the door was made of the same dressed logs as the rest of the house. If this house had its own access to a spring someone could hold out for days.

  The shadowy figure knocked on the door, and when it opened, a large woman was outlined by the light that spilled out: over six feet tall and almost as wide as the doorway she filled, she stared at her visitor for a moment.

  “Jaak, you scoundrel,” the woman said. “I thought you were never going to darken my door again.”

  The visitor moved into the light from the doorway, and Calder recognized his fellow rigger.

  “Don’t mean to bother you, Captain,” Jaak said. “But I thought I’d warn you. The crew from the Bright Breeze is looking to cause trouble.”

  So Jaak had come to see Captain Margit Ansdottir. Her size was legendary, but Calder had often wondered if it was an exaggeration. Now he knew that it was not.

  “I appreciate that, Jaak,” Ansdottir said. “Does this mean you’re returning to us? I always hoped that you would.”

  “You know why I left,” Jaak said. “No disrespect.”

  “There are risks in everything,” Ansdottir said. “Whether you’re a privateer or crew on a Freeholder’s timber hauler.” Ansdottir leaned closer to Jaak. “I hear your captain would have sent you into the rocks off Ostland if it wasn’t for a single sailor. You know that no ship I captain will ever end up on the rocks.”

  “That’s not true,” Jaak said. “I mean, not about you, about Captain Olmar. Who would tell you such a thing?”

  “The First Mate,” Ansdottir said. “He told me himself a few hours ago. And now I’ll tell you something, for your own sake. Don’t get back on that ship when it hauls anchor tomorrow. The rocks off Ostland aren’t the only dangers for this ship.”

 

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