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Privateer (Alexis Carew Book 5)

Page 8

by J. A. Sutherland


  Her left arm was stuck under her body, while she groped with her right to find something, anything, to grasp and twist that might drive off the man on her back — or to reach the small flechette pistol tucked at the small of her back. Even that effort was stopped as her hand was grasped and yanked painfully up to her shoulder blades.

  “Enough of that, you bloody bitch,” a harsh voice whispered.

  She heard Isom cry out again, and the meaty sound of blows, then more distant shouting.

  Then there was a sharp crack of ionizing air from a laser shot, and the hands holding her were suddenly gone. She rolled to her back, clawing at the cord around her throat, finally loosened it enough to pull the bag from her head, and kicked at the cord binding her ankles.

  Cool air made her realize how hot and stuffy that bag had become in such a short time.

  There were more shouts and footsteps.

  Hands grasped her shoulders to pull her up and she almost struck out, before sense told her the attackers were long gone and this was just someone come to help.

  “Are you all right, Lieutenant Carew?”

  Alexis turned to find it was Edmon Coalson helping her to her feet. He grasped her arms firmly as she swayed. A slight pain twinged her shoulder, where the arm had been pulled behind her, but otherwise she felt uninjured.

  “I am, I — damn me, Isom! Is he all right?” She shrugged off Coalson’s hands and made her way to Isom’s side. There was a bag over his head, as well, which one of Coalson’s friends, Warriner, was only now removing.

  After she assured herself that Isom was whole, if a bit battered, she looked around the street, which was crowded now, though it had been nearly empty when they’d been attacked. People gathered to watch the aftermath, but those who’d intervened seemed to all be of Coalson’s group — him and a trio of friends.

  “I heard a shot,” Alexis asked. “Did you manage to strike any of them?”

  Coalson shook his head.

  “No, I fired into the air, not wanting to strike you or your man. The bastards ran off when we got near, but Moring and Kenderdine went after them and may have — ah, here they are now and we’ll see.”

  Two other men were approaching through the crowd, also part of Coalson’s set by their clothing and bearing, but Alexis could tell there’d be no joy there. From the look on their faces she was certain the assailants had got away.

  “Moring and I were on their heels,” Kenderdine said, “but lost them in the alleyways nearer the field — once we broke out onto the field itself … well, even so late there’s a great deal of to and fro from the boats.” He shook his head. “Could have been any of them out there.”

  “Damn,” Coalson said. He turned to Alexis. “I’m sorry we couldn’t catch them — do you have any idea what they were about?”

  Alexis picked up the bag which had been thrown over head from the ground and fingered it. It was the heavy, waxed canvas many of the miners used to contain their tools. Perhaps Doakes and his new constabulary might make some use of them to identify the assailants, but she had her ideas of it already. Monks and his ilk were just the sort to pull such an ambush, she thought, but without proof and with her set to leave the system, there was little she could do about it.

  She shook her head. “Nothing above suspicions, I’m afraid.”

  “World’s turned upside down when a lady can be assaulted in the streets,” Warriner muttered, helping Isom in setting their cart to rights.

  Alexis had to raise an eyebrow at that, for she’d never been on friendly terms with Warriner — the man was usually too smug and superior for her tastes — but they were of a similar class of holder and she assumed he’d like to see no one of the original settlers so treated.

  Coalson held out his hand. “I’ll turn that over to Doakes, if you like — along with the other. I’d heard you were leaving this evening and I assume you’ve not the time to do it yourself.”

  Alexis nodded and handed him the bag. “Thank you. I fear I’ve nothing to tell him that might be helpful, either — only some muffled curses in voices I couldn’t identify.” She frowned. “It does seem odd that they treated Isom so much more harshly than me, though.” She felt at herself and realized that, aside from the bag’s abrasion about her neck, she wasn’t very much injured at all. “It was almost as though they made an especial effort to avoid doing so.”

  Coalson grunted while Warriner said, “Afraid to truly harm their betters, as it should be.” He scowled around at surrounding buildings. “We’d crack down on this cesspool if that ever happened.”

  “Indeed,” Coalson echoed, then to Alexis, “Will you accept our escort the remaining way to the field, lieutenant? I doubt these miscreants will try again, but one can never be too careful.”

  Alexis nodded. She doubted that as well, but it would do no harm. “Thank you, Mister Coalson.”

  In a trice Coalson’s friends had her baggage — vile creature included, it not having been released to Port Arthur’s mercies in the ruckus, as any benevolent universe would have seen fit to grant her. Warriner even took the managing of the cart from Isom, patting him on the back and telling him to rest himself.

  They reached the edge of the landing field, where Nabb and the other Nightingales waited, without incident. Nabb eyed Coalson warily and his jaw clenched as Isom explained what had happened.

  “We got her from here,” Nabb said, edging Warriner away from the luggage sled with his bulk, two others from her boat crew flanking him.

  Warriner gave way with an amused smirk, but Coalson looked around at the field, brow furrowed with concern.

  “Most of these boats are owned by some rough folk, lieutenant,” he said. “Perhaps we should —”

  “Not so polished ourselves,” Nabb muttered.

  Coalson grinned at him, causing Nabb to clench his jaw. “Indeed.”

  “Meant we can protect the captain,” Nabb said.

  “Certainly,” Coalson agreed. “My friends and I were only necessary while you were … elsewhere.”

  Nabb bristled and squared his shoulders while Sills and Paskell, flanking him, cracked their knuckles.

  Alexis sighed. Were they really prepared to argue about who might best escort her across the landing field? Men were such … boys, at times — as though she needed their escort. Though Coalson’s arrival had been timely. She supposed she did if she were taken by surprise, outnumbered, and outweighed by assailants — she’d have to take pains to see that the first didn’t happen again.

  “Surely you and your friends were on your way somewhere, Mister Coalson?” she asked. “I’ve no wish to delay you further — glad as I am for your assistance already.” She nodded to Nabb with a smile. “I’m certain two dozen and more burly spacers can see me safely through any roughness we may encounter from here on.”

  “If you’re certain,” Coalson said. “May I be of any further service, lieutenant?”

  Alexis had to smile, he was being so bloody courteous and such a far cry from their meetings years ago — it seemed he had truly changed and was almost charming now. She supposed she’d changed as well.

  He’s not nearly so full of himself and I’m not nearly so inclined toward indulging my temper. I suppose we’ve both matured …

  She realized with the thought, that they’d each had experiences thrusting maturity on them — experiences that their peers, such as Warriner for Coalson and Lauryn Arundel for Alexis, lacked. She had all she’d been through in the Navy and Coalson had faced the loss of his father, the disgrace at his family’s involvement in some nefarious doings, and the need to take over running his family holdings at quite a young age.

  It may be we’ve far more in common than we did when I was fifteen, as well.

  She gave Coalson a grateful smile and, for the first time between them, she supposed, there was real warmth in it. She held out her hand to him.

  “I believe that will be all, Mister Coalson — I have my Nightingales about me now. Though you have my
true gratitude for coming along as you did. It was the nick of time, as they say.”

  Coalson smiled as well, surprising her by taking her hand and raising it to his lips. Alexis flushed, as only one other man had ever done that — and the association with Delaine quite confused her when standing next to Edmon Coalson.

  “Nothing more than a gentleman must do, lieutenant,” Coalson assured her, lowering her hand and releasing it. “I’m only sorry I could not have been there sooner.”

  Eleven

  They made their way across the field, winding their way amongst the other landing craft, to Dansby’s boat. The field was dark, lit only by the lights of the boats they passed, and those were concentrated at the loading ramps for the most part.

  A glance behind showed Coalson and his friends following and Alexis smiled. Obviously they’d not wanted to risk her, despite the group of muscled spacers and farmhands she was walking with.

  The other group, Coalson especially, was attempting to look as though they were quite nonchalantly making their own way, and doing a poor job of it, as the field itself led nowhere but to the boats sitting on it.

  Her glance back was caught by Nabb pushing the luggage sled, his own bag carried by Sills. She smiled tolerantly as her coxswain looked back as well, caught sight of Coalson’s group, and scowled.

  “Mister Coalson,” Alexis called loudly enough to be sure he heard. “If you’re going to insist on tagging along like a lost puppy, then you may as well walk with us the rest of the way.”

  She heard some muttered words, not clearly enough to make them out, but saw Coalson give Warriner a shove and the others laugh at it.

  Almost sheepishly, Coalson approached — his friends following behind with grins.

  “It’s only that I wished to see you safely away.” He paused, then rushed on, “Not, I mean, that I wish you away — I don’t. Damn me, not that I wish you to stay, either …”

  Warriner and the others were nearly laughing out loud and Nabb openly snorted.

  Coalson glanced back at his friends and looked quite embarrassed, something Alexis had never noted in him. He took a deep breath. “I’d not see you attacked again is all I’m saying.”

  Warriner was whispering to the others and grinning openly, which set Alexis’ teeth on edge. Of the group, she had to admit she liked Coalson better than Warriner, and saw no need to mock a friend’s concern, no matter how poorly phrased. She regretted, now, her choice of words in calling him over — certain Warriner would make use of the puppy label to needle Coalson for some time.

  “Come along, then,” she said, and making a sudden decision, “Edmon.”

  She reached for his arm and he extended it automatically, though his eyebrows raised at that and the familiarity of her using his given name.

  They resumed walking and a moment later Coalson said quietly, “Thank you … Alexis.”

  “For walking with you?”

  “For deflecting Warriner a bit,” Coalson said, still quiet. “My … concern for you has given him a bit of a target for his wit.”

  “It must be a large and rather slow-moving thing for his wit to have a hope of striking true.”

  “Certainly large,” Coalson said, “and growing more so.”

  Alexis glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow.

  “I —” Coalson’s step faltered for a moment, then he grinned and shook his head. “You do have a way of flustering a man. I meant to say that my concern for you has grown.”

  Alexis was suddenly more aware of their closeness as they walked. Her hand on his forearm and her own forearm held tight to his side — tighter, perhaps, than was entirely appropriate. Closer than was appropriate, as well, for his arm brushed against her side with every step.

  “I believe it’s I who owe you some further thanks,” she said, changing the subject.

  Coalson’s brow furrowed. “For chasing off those fellows? You already did —”

  “For your act at the Conclave,” Alexis said. “We didn’t speak after, and I believe you did carry the day for me.”

  Coalson snorted. “It was only the right thing to do — time we put away some things from the past. Past time, perhaps.”

  “Still, you have my thanks.”

  Coalson laid his free hand over hers on his forearm. He was silent, but Alexis thought there was more of a message there — one she had no time to understand, for they’d arrived at Dansby’s boat.

  Alexis paused for a moment and stared at the craft, remembering another time, years ago, when she’d left Dalthus from this very field. Then it had been to join the Navy and all that entailed over the last few years. Now it was to something very different — and she was leaving not because she had no future on her home world, but because she’d gained one and wasn’t at all certain it was right for her.

  One more time — once more on a quarterdeck. I’ll find Delaine and bring him and any others home, then I’ll settle in to help Grandfather. She turned to regard the growing town of Port Arthur and smiled a bit sadly. Once more.

  “Come on, then, Rikki!” Dansby called from the boat’s ramp. “Before your churlish sot of a chandler levies me another day’s landing charges! You, rather, as I’m starting your accounts for this endeavor this very moment!”

  Alexis bit her tongue to keep from snapping back at Dansby, not wanting to show her temper with Coalson and his friends about. She’d managed to alleviate some of her previous reputation for having a sharp tongue, after all, and didn’t wish to build a new one. She’d have to work with those young men for decades, once she returned to actively working her family lands.

  “He’s a rather familiar sort,” Coalson murmured to her.

  “He has his ways,” Alexis allowed, then, not at all certain why she felt the sudden need to defend Avrel Dansby, “Not a bad sort, though, once you get to know him.”

  “He’s the look of a rascal about him,” Coalson said. “Are you certain he’s to be trusted? You’ll be safe?”

  Alexis almost laughed. She was about to set off in command of a private ship, with only the barest core of a crew from Nightingale and a few hands from the family farm, off to hunt pirates in one of the most lawless sections of space this side of the Core’s settled planets.

  “Avrel Dansby is the least of my worries about this endeavor, I assure you.”

  Coalson looked skeptical, but said no more.

  “Thank you for the escort, Edmon, sirs,” she added, nodding to his friends. “And the rescue.”

  “Of course.” Coalson shook his head. “I can’t imagine what Port Arthur’s come to, when one can be accosted in the street like that.”

  “I suspect it was some of the miners I’ve had run-ins with, and not some larger problem.”

  “Perhaps,” Coalson said. “In any case, I wish you good fortune in your endeavor, Miss Carew … Alexis.” He offered his hand, raising Alexis’ to his lips again when she took it, and giving her the same sense of uneasiness she’d felt before. “I hope to see you safely home again, soon — perhaps you’d do me the honor of allowing me to host a welcome party when that day comes?”

  “I —”

  “Merely give it some thought, will you? After all, we younger holders —” He gestured to his friends and Alexis. “— are the future of Dalthus.”

  “Yes — thank you. All of you, for your help today, again.”

  Coalson and the others nodded, smiling, and left. Alexis made her way up the ramp, followed by Isom and their baggage cart.

  “About time,” Dansby said from the ramp’s top. He nodded at the departing group. “Who’s that fellow?”

  “One of the other settlers,” Alexis said, deciding to say nothing about the attack on her and Isom. “Seeing us off.”

  Dansby’s eyes narrowed. “I’d watch yourself, Rikki,” he said, turning to enter the boat. “Looks the proper rascal, that one.”

  Dansby took the pilot’s seat for the trip up from Dalthus, Alexis in the cockpit to starboard.

 
; The passenger compartment held a little over thirty men, former Nightingales and a half dozen from the farmstead who’d never been into space before, but had stepped forward when it became known Alexis would be setting sail once more. Some of those last were indentures and she didn’t know how that would be handled in the farmstead’s books. She felt a bit bad about taking men off when her grandfather had made such an investment in their future labor, but he’d shrugged the matter aside.

  She couldn’t help feeling that she’d taken advantage of him, both in removing hands from the farmstead — he’d come to rely on those Nightingales who’d stayed with her, as well — and to be leaving again. Perhaps “taken advantage of” wasn’t the proper term, either — perhaps it was that she felt she’d disappointed him in some way, though he’d said nothing of the sort.

  “You’re unusually pensive, Rikki.”

  Alexis looked around to find that the boat had already lifted while she was lost in thought. Dansby was talking while piloting the boat, looking from the controls to the viewports and not at her.

  “Isn’t leaving one’s home always a bit pensive?” she asked. Dansby grunted and it occurred to Alexis that she knew very little about the man, despite all they’d been through together during their incursion into Hanoverese space. “Where is your own home, Mister Dansby? I don’t believe you’ve ever said.”

  “No, I haven’t.” He nodded to the viewport. “Elizabeth’s in a low orbit, you should be able to catch sight of her shortly.”

  That caught Alexis’ attention and she was hunched forward, searching the darkening space in front of them for sight of an orbiting ship, before she realized that his words were likely an effort to distract her in just such a way. She sat back with an effort, still keeping her gaze ahead of the boat, but also paying some attention to Dansby. It might bother her that he knew her well enough to choose exactly what would throw her attention elsewhere, but he’d also given a bit of himself away at the same time in avoiding the topic.

  “Why is that?” she asked. “Surely your operations have some base, at least?”

 

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