“Then he has a reason to help us?”
Back to business. She tamped down her disappointment. Eirik needed to understand a few things before he spoke with Adem. “Ferals are second-class citizens. We’re denied access to the best neighborhoods, the best schools. There are laws to assure a human’s equal rights, but we’re treated like animals. Some of us like property.
“Adem was a gladiator. Trained in hand-to-hand. Part of the spectacle. He fought the fiercest beasts and ferals in the arena. But he escaped that life. He’s part leopard. Perhaps more leopard than man. Stronger than an average man. Perhaps stronger than a Viking.” At a sudden thought, she gasped. “Don’t provoke a fight. He could shred you with his teeth.”
Eirik grunted. “The Helio you were with? What’s his story? How do you know him?”
“There’s no time to explain. I promise. I’ll tell you everything I know . . . after.”
Tension tightening his frame again, he climbed off her. She pulled up the sheet, and tucked it under her arms, watching as he dressed in his stolen clothing. When his boots were tugged up his calves, he gave her one last look.
Her breath hitched in her throat. She didn’t know what that look meant. Tried not to read too much into it, but the tension in his face, the way his gaze clung to hers—it felt like a promise.
Fatin sat on the edge of the cot to pull on her boots, trying to keep focused on the task, not on the emotions roiling inside her. She was worried about what Adem might do once he discovered the full truth about Eirik’s heritage.
Adem might have been her friend once upon a time, but his friendship was something transitory—and something that depended on whether the person he befriended could serve his cause. All those years fighting in the arena had cauterized his heart. Closed it like a wound to deeper emotions. When one battled to the death against men one shared close quarters with, deep emotions other than fury and triumph were a liability.
If Adem saw Eirik as someone to exploit, he wouldn’t kill him on the spot. But even then, his agenda would be served first. Something she didn’t see Eirik tolerating.
A knock sounded at the door, but it swung open before she could reply. Baraq stood there, his posture so straight, his expression so sour, her heart dove to her toes.
“We’re free to go,” he said woodenly.
“Really?” She stiffened.
“Finish dressing,” he said, eyeing the messy bed, his mouth drawing into a straight line.
A flush heated her cheeks. Why should he look so disapproving? He had no room to judge. She’d been crushed against the wall of the room at Suffrage House while he’d nailed his princess. “What about Eirik? Is he coming too?”
“Adem’s keeping him for now.”
“Did he say whether he would help him and the others?”
“They were discussing how to free the rest of the Vikings when I was told to leave.”
Fatin tugged on the other boot, then planted both feet on the ground and lunged up from the bed. “I need to talk to Adem.”
Baraq blocked the door. “Adem says you’re lucky to leave with your life. I had to talk him out of killing you. It’s only because he knows you’ll be in my custody that you can leave.”
Fatin pushed at his broad chest, but he didn’t budge. “He doesn’t know the full story. Doesn’t understand what’s at stake.”
“He knows more than you do.”
Fatin eyed him with suspicion. “How’d he get your trust so quickly? You told him how you came to be here rather than sitting in orbit around New Iceland, didn’t you? That’s a story I’d still love to hear.”
He gave her a baleful glance. “Since most of that story begins with you and your thickheaded plan to kidnap Vikings and make them into playthings for the wealthy, we both think we’d do better without your counsel. Let’s go.”
Fatin planted her fists on her hips. “But I need to see Eirik. To make sure he’s going to be all right.”
Baraq grabbed her upper arm and pulled her toward him. His face lowered, bronze skin deepening in caste with a flush of red. “You haven’t any say in what happens next.” He pushed her toward the door. “Go! And hurry before he changes his mind about letting us leave. Birget and the others have been cooling their heels so long I’m surprised they haven’t already stormed this place.”
They were let out a side door on the opposite end of the building from where they’d entered. The night was still pitch-black. Frustrated and angry, she hurried down the narrow alleyway heading toward the road that ran parallel to the cannery. “How did Adem react when he heard who Eirik was?” she asked over her shoulder.
“As though Zeus himself had handed him a thunderbolt of his very own.”
“Damn.” Her hands drew into fists. “I needed to warn Eirik. Adem will use him.”
“Eirik may be a Viking, may be plainspoken, but he’s not stupid or unsophisticated.”
“And you know this on long acquaintance of what . . . five minutes?”
“I know Birget. She’s cut from the same cloth.”
“Yeah, how does that feel? Knowing you were rescuing her lover?”
“They’ve never been lovers. Never even met. Still haven’t.”
How could that be? “But she came for him.”
“Because she swore to free him. They’re betrothed. An arrangement their families made.”
Birget was his betrothed? Fatin stumbled, but righted herself before she landed on her knees. “And they’ve never met.”
“Not so unusual, even in Helios’s upper strata.” He waved a hand. “A merging of kingdoms.”
They turned a corner. Shadows moved away from the walls to stand in their path. Large shadows.
“Birget?” Baraq called softly.
“Here.” Birget stepped around the men blocking their path. “Will this Adem help us?”
“Not us. Eirik escaped and is with him now.”
Birget’s breath caught. “He belongs with us.”
“Adem and his followers are well armed. It would serve no purpose to oppose him. And from what I’ve seen of him, Eirik won’t hide in safety while others risk themselves to free the captives.”
“But this is our fight too.”
“We’re to stay low. You’re all too noticeable. He doesn’t want enforcers tipped off. We’ll wait at the ship. He’ll send word when things are about to go down.”
“What about me?” Fatin asked.
Both Baraq’s and Birget’s heads swiveled toward her. Birget’s upper lip curled.
“He wants you to stay in lockdown,” Baraq said.
“I can’t.” Panic grabbed her chest. “Tomorrow I’m supposed to see my sister. Aliyah might guess something’s wrong if I don’t show up.”
Birget snorted. “Why would she care whether some ex-whore doesn’t show up to see another whore?”
Anger welled inside. Fatin balled her fists and launched herself at Birget. The fist landed with a satisfying thud against the other woman’s jaw, but Birget turned with it, grabbed her by the waist, and slammed her chest first into the mud-brick alley wall.
She saw stars for a second, and then shook her head to clear it. Birget twisted Fatin’s arm behind her back and leaned in close.
Gritting her teeth to prevent a groan at the extreme angle of the hold, Fatin gave up struggling.
“I don’t give a frig for you or your sister,” Birget growled. “I care only that my people are set free. You are responsible for this. I have no pity, no mercy inside me. I haven’t killed you yet because Baraq says you might still be of some use to us.” She gave Fatin’s arm another twist.
Pain shot through Fatin’s shoulder, but as soon as Birget loosed her hold, Fatin spun, dipped, and grabbed Birget’s arm. She pulled and rolled Birget over her back. Before Birget could react, Fatin sat in the center of Birget’s chest while the other woman gasped for breath.
Fatin leaned toward her face. “I’ve taken enough abuse from you.” Her breaths huffed, short an
d choppy. “Your betrothed and the rest of your barbarian friends are all alive and extremely well sated. The worst they’ve suffered is chafing from overuse of their man parts. You and I have the same goal. To free people we love. Next time you strike me, prepare to draw away a stump.”
She stood, stepping over Birget and passing through a line of Vikings who all stood away as she stomped past. Behind her, she heard the clearing of a throat.
“Guess our little bounty hunter has more grit than you imagined, Princess.”
A smile tugged at Fatin’s mouth, but she kept her head down. Her body might be aching from everything she’d endured the past couple of days, but she wasn’t beaten. And she’d be damned if she sat this fight out.
Eirik bent over maps laid on a table. For the past hour, he and the leopard-man had pored over maps of Heliopolis, the PG compound, and now the islands dotting the mouth of the Blue Nile River. That was, after Adem had thoroughly questioned Eirik about the men who’d been taken, and in particular why there was such interest in Eirik from Baraq and the others who’d accompanied the Helio in search of the Vikings.
For the first time since his capture, Eirik revealed who he was, trusting Fatin’s estimation of Adem. He didn’t care about the leopard’s motives, only that he was capable of helping him.
Adem was indeed eager to help, but only because he hoped to weave the Vikings into his own plan to bring down PG.
“The Consortium has an embassy on an estuary island,” Adem said, pointing toward an unremarkable island. “Their security is unlike anything the Helios have. Their technology is far advanced.”
Eirik’s jaw tightened. “I was under the impression that the Consortium worked in tandem with the Helios. Why fortify themselves against intrusion?”
“The Consortium doesn’t trust the Helios. With good cause. They consider them nearsighted and far too short-lived to share in governance over anything other than the human worlds in this galaxy. They’ve seen how Helios treat their own people. How they’ve treated you Icelanders. They tolerate Helios only to a point. As long as pure light ore continues to flow from your planet to the rest of the worlds, they leave Helios alone.”
Eirik shook his head. “And yet they enforce certain laws. Like a prohibition on murder and abduction of ruling families.”
Adem’s lip curled. “Only because the supply routes tend to be interrupted during times of war. It’s always about money.”
“If security is so impossible to breach, how do I contact them? Will we be able to approach their island in the open?”
“All communication is made through encoded transmissions, which are carefully safeguarded by Helios’s ruling council.”
Eirik raked a hand through his hair. “You’re not offering a solution. Just declaring more obstacles.”
“I’m telling you how it is so that you will know what I’m about to suggest is your only option.”
Eirik didn’t like the sound of that or the hard gleam in Adem’s pale eyes. “There’s a reason you sent Fatin and Baraq away so quickly.”
Adem snorted. “I don’t want you distracted or playing the martyr to save Fatin.”
“Which intimates there’s to be a sacrifice.” Eirik didn’t need to hear more to know that the sacrifice would be his own. He shoved back the maps. “Why don’t you just tell me your plan.”
“You’re not going to like it.”
Eirik aimed a steady glare at the leopard. “Will your plan secure the freedom of my men?”
Adem nodded slowly. “That is my hope.”
“Will Fatin be safe?”
“If she does as I instructed Baraq she should do, then yes. Again, I didn’t want you concerned for her safety. You will have more than enough to contend with.”
Eirik studied Adem, noted the proud set of his shoulders, the unbending straightness of his back. His eyes, although eerily inhuman, remained unblinking as Adem waited for his decision. “It seems I have little choice,” Eirik murmured. “I can escape to a ship and flee to New Iceland, but that choice is a coward’s tactic. I will not leave my men behind. Aliyah is unstable. If she thinks to refute any claims I make from New Iceland, she can easily hide the proof of her crimes by killing them.”
Again, Adem nodded his agreement, as though he’d already thought of the same argument.
Eirik continued, thinking through options as he spoke. “Seeking an audience by contacting Consortium officials directly would require my getting inside the compound. And I cannot simply walk in there without being noticed. Even with the uniform. Security will be tighter than ever.” Eirik let out a breath. “This plan of yours . . . Will I at least be able to fight like a Viking?”
Adem’s split grin stretched across his face. “I can almost guarantee that. Eirik, you will get your chance to show all of Helios why they should fear the wrath of a Viking.”
Fatin straightened the silk tunic she wore, then brushed away a speck of dirt from the hem of her trousers. Birget had allowed her to return to her own ship to retrieve clothing and make sure that the crew she’d left behind still maintained the ship’s systems. Miriam had rushed to her when she’d crossed the gangway, muttering a list of complaints but not even commenting on Baraq’s presence at her elbow.
Miriam should have recognized the Consortium security officer. His dark, striking face and broad build were distinctive. The woman had been aboard the Proteus with the rest of her crew when they’d been busy ferrying captives from the surface of New Iceland. And yet, Miriam chattered on about needing to pay the crew again since they were staying so long on Helios, and when would they be returning the ship to Roxana on Karthagos?
She hadn’t realized that Fatin’s change of plans, to bypass Karthagos altogether and deliver the Vikings directly to Aliyah, hadn’t been part of any plan the pirate had been privy to. But then again, Miriam was single-minded and didn’t think beyond her own comfort or needs.
Baraq had remained silent while she’d brushed aside Miriam’s concerns, wrote a note for Miriam to cash and pay the crew. Then she’d shooed away the woman, changed the launch codes to ensure no one tried to leave port without her permission, and gathered a change of clothing.
With his arms folded over his chest, Baraq eyed the shambles of her cabin.
“What?” Fatin said, flushing. “I don’t spend my time aboard cleaning.”
“Did I comment?”
“No, but that look said plenty.”
Baraq grunted. “I met Roxana. While we searched for you. She’s furious with you. She didn’t seem the forgiving type. Do you really intend to return her ship?”
Fatin shrugged. “Of course. I’m not a thief. Not by trade. This was necessary.”
“How do you intend to repay her for the proceeds from the cargo you hijacked?”
“I’ll share whatever’s left.” And Roxana would likely take the rest of what she owed from Fatin’s hide. But that was a problem for another day.
“You’ll share proceeds after you’ve paid for your sister’s papers?”
Baraq’s raised brow annoyed her. So she wasn’t the most trustworthy partner a pirate could have. She nodded sharply.
“Even though you know it’s not likely for Aliyah to honor her promise to sell your sister’s papers . . . ?”
Fatin gave him a sour scowl. “Aliyah has one chance to make this right. If she refuses me, I’ll find another way. I had hoped Adem would provide that option, but since he’s not talking to me . . .” She shrugged and stuffed her clothing into a bag.
“Fatin, you could put your trust in Eirik and Birget,” he said softly. “Neither thinks only of a cause or of themselves.”
She didn’t glance up. Didn’t want to see his expression softening. She needed him to stay angry because anything else would weaken her. “Why would either help me?”
“I don’t claim to know Eirik, but he hasn’t harmed you.”
Fatin shot him a glance and raised an eyebrow. Baraq knew good and well that she’d sported a few bru
ises the first time they’d met.
“Nothing lasting,” he insisted, “and I’m guessing nothing you didn’t enjoy. My point is, he’s had his chance for revenge, and let it slip through his fingers. And that room back at the cannery wasn’t awash in blood. It reeked of sex.”
She blushed, but lifted her chin in defiance.
“He doesn’t sound like a man bent on revenge. And as conflicted as you are about how you feel about him, my guess is that he’s in a similar state. These Vikings are honorable people. You have to trust someone.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Not even your sister?”
“With my secrets. But I’ve been the one to make the decisions for us both.”
Baraq moved away from the door, dropping his arms. “Well, it’s time, don’t you think? To lay your trust in someone?”
“Maybe,” she muttered, wanting the conversation to end because she felt a stab of emotion deep inside her chest that felt like loneliness. “I’ve just been so focused for so long.” She gave herself a mental shake. “We should head back. I need to shower and change.”
Sixteen
Fatin headed directly to the women’s saray, remembering that Aliyah had promised her she didn’t have to seek permission from her office to enter. If she were stopped and questioned about Eirik’s escape, her surprise would be more plausible if she proceeded according to their arrangement.
Stepping across the fragrant threshold brought back bittersweet memories. She and her sister, giggling during those first months, when they’d still been in awe of the changes in their circumstances. After months of hunger and fear, they’d felt giddy with the abundance and attention showered upon them.
They’d been bathed, groomed, clothed in silk, and instructed in etiquette, in how to pleasure a man or a woman. Everything had seemed a very funny game, and they’d felt beautiful, like petted princesses. It hadn’t been until they’d been put into service that reality struck.
Fatin had drawn an old man for her breaching.
Enslaved by a Viking Page 19
