by Claire Frank
“That is quite simple,” Athon said, his voice smooth. “You can come with me.”
“A bounty hunter,” Rhis said. It wasn’t a question.
“You’ve never heard of Athon, the man with the steel arm?” Rickson asked from the corner of his mouth.
“No.”
“This is bad, Rhis,” Rickson said.
Asher stood next to her, his gaze darting between Athon and Rhis. “It’s okay, Ash,” she said. “Stay back.”
Athon’s eyes flicked to Asher. “I have no business with the boy, nor the rest of your crew, Captain Rickson. This will be a simple exchange.”
Relief washed over Rhis. He wasn’t here to kill the boy.
“Exchange for what?” Rickson asked.
“I take her,” Athon said, pointing at Rhis with his metal arm. “You keep your ship, and your crew.”
“Not exactly favorable terms,” Rickson said.
“I disagree, Captain,” Athon said. “I’m asking for just one person, and giving you an entire ship and crew.”
Rickson snorted, although Rhis could hear the fear behind his swagger. “Giving me something that’s already mine, aren’t you? Like I said, those terms are a bit suspect.”
“Are you asking me to negotiate for the woman?” Athon asked.
“Well, no. Truth be told, I’m not too interested in giving her up,” Rickson said. “She’s grown on me.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Athon said. “It would be better for all involved if this could be done … peacefully.”
“Who sent you?” Rhis asked, hoping to keep him talking.
“We have a mutual….” Athon paused, pursing his lips. “I hate to use the word friend, as he’s no friend of mine. Associate. Someone in Altia who would very much like to see you.”
“I’m sure he would,” Rhis said.
“Good, then we have an understanding,” Athon said. “My ship will come up alongside shortly. Mistress Sen and I will depart, and the rest of you will be free to go on your way.”
Rhis raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid not. I prefer my present company, but thank you for your kind offer of transport. You can tell our mutual associate that I’ll be in touch.”
A slow smile crept across Athon’s face, and he opened and closed his strange metal fingers. “Very well. I expected this to be a challenge. In fact, I counted on it.”
With a flick of her wrist, Rhis threw a sleek dagger at Athon, but he deflected it with a swipe of his metal arm. The blade hit with a clink and ricocheted away, clattering to the deck. Before it hit, Rhis had already drawn two more and she sent them whizzing through the air. Athon knocked them aside, his arm moving impossibly fast.
“Shit,” Rickson said again and Rhis heard the hiss of metal as he drew his short sword.
Rhis didn’t have time for darts, but the blade in her boot was always tipped with poison. Reaching down, she drew it quickly, wondering why Athon didn’t move forward to attack. She aimed low—a nick was all she needed—but Athon had already moved to the side and he kicked it away with his boot.
She was going to have to get close. Reaching behind to draw another dagger, Rhis took careful steps forward.
Athon smiled. “This is why people like you keep to the shadows, murdering before they can be seen. You come face to face, and you falter.”
Rhis’s heart beat hard and her limbs tingled with adrenaline. “Face me, then. If you just stand there, I’m going to hit you.”
As she tensed herself to attack, Asher let out a howl and ran forward, his knife drawn. Before Rhis could stop him, he lunged with his dagger, his teeth bared. Athon backhanded him with a swipe of his metal arm, knocking Asher backward onto the deck.
“I told you, my business isn’t with the child,” Athon said. “But I can’t allow anyone to get in my way. Come now, Mistress Sen, don’t make me hurt your friends.”
“Damn you,” Rhis said through her teeth. Rage exploded inside her and she hurled herself at the bounty hunter.
Athon lifted his arm, using it as a shield, and deflected her attack. She staggered under the force of his blow. Stepping forward, he swung with his other arm and she pivoted, blocking his strike with her forearm and sending it just wide enough to miss.
Rhis pulled another dagger, clutching blades with both hands, and swiped at him. Her knives struck metal as he whipped his arm around to block, and one went sailing out of her hand. She thrust with the other, aiming for his chest, but he clasped the blade in his metal hand as she struck, wrenching it from her grasp. Athon squeezed his fist around her knife. The blade broke into pieces, and he let the shards fall to the deck at his feet.
As Rhis reached for another weapon, Athon balled his metal fist and smashed her in the face. Pain exploded across her cheek and blood filled her mouth as the impact swung her around. She stumbled, falling to the deck in a heap, her vision filled with white spots. Blinking hard, blood dribbling from her mouth, she tried to get up; her balance was gone and the ship seemed to lurch beneath her feet. She pushed up with her arms, and her head spun as Athon laughed.
“I have to be honest, I’m disappointed,” Athon said. “I was hoping for more of a challenge.”
As Rhis looked up, wiping her mouth, she heard a crack and a hiss of rope. The boom swung across the deck, whooshing over her head, and smashed into Athon’s gut. He grunted as it hit, his eyes wide with shock. Then it swept him across the deck and dumped him over the side of the ship into the water below.
Footsteps raced across the deck and Rickson’s voice called out. “Quick! Help me get the crew out!”
Rhis spit blood and struggled to her feet, her face throbbing. She could already feel her lip swell and her head felt as if she’d been hit by a hammer.
The crew had been locked below in the hold; they sprang into action, untying ropes and readying the sails, as soon as they were freed. In moments, the ship surged forward, the sails billowing in the wind.
Rhis knelt next to Asher, the blood pounding in her ears. He tried to look away, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, but she put a gentle hand beneath his chin and turned his face so she could see his injuries. His lip was split open and his cheek was an angry red, already turning purple in the center. He winced as she probed the area, but nothing seemed broken. Rhis wanted to rip Athon’s throat out for hitting the boy.
“That’s going to hurt for a while, but you’ll be okay,” she said.
Asher reached up and touched his lip with his fingertips. His eyes moved to her face.
“You’re hurt too.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, although her head hurt enough to make her nauseated.
“This is a disaster,” Rickson said as he walked across the deck toward them. He kept glancing back toward the stern of the ship.
Rhis stood. “That was quick thinking, cutting the rope like that. Thanks.”
Rickson shook his head. “You don’t understand. Now I have Athon after me. This is bad.”
“Who is he? He practically has you wetting yourself.”
“With good reason,” Rickson said. “Athon has one of the worst reputations on land or sea.”
“He’s just a bounty hunter,” Rhis said.
“Just?” Rickson asked. “Hardly. He made short work of you, and you’re no novice. Athon is one of the most feared men in Attalon. I bet even the Emperor wants to stay out of his sights. He might be a bounty hunter, but he doesn’t take just any job. If he’s after you, he has a reason.”
Rhis shrugged. “Imperials.”
“I don’t know. I’m sure he’s paid well, but the word is, he turns down even the highest bounties if he doesn’t think they’re worthy of him.”
“Am I supposed to be flattered?” she asked.
“Probably not,” Rickson said. “We need to sail fast if we have any hope of getting away from him. Having Athon on our tail is a very bad thing.”
“He can get in line,” Rhis said. How many more people were going to come after them? Damn
you, Cormant. “At least now we know to expect him. If the wind stays in our favor, we should be able to keep ahead of his ship, won’t we?”
“We should,” Rickson said. He reached down to help Asher to his feet and patted his shoulder. “You still have all your teeth, kid?”
Asher winced as he touched his mouth, but he nodded.
“Good. I need to make sure we’re on the right heading to get to Senlas.” He looked back again. “And we need to set up some crossbows on the stern. What I wouldn’t give for some good ranged weapons on this ship.” He kept muttering to himself as he walked away.
Rhis worked her jaw and touched her split lip. She was going to look terrible. “Come on,” she said to Asher, “let’s get cleaned up.”
TWENTY-TWO: UPRIVER
Rhis lay on her back, her legs tangled in Rickson’s bedclothes, and adjusted her tunic. She ran her tongue behind her split lip, feeling the sting. Her face still throbbed, but there was little she could do about it. The bones didn’t seem to be broken; she’d simply have to wait for it to heal.
Rickson turned toward her and propped his head up on his arm, trailing a finger along her bare thigh. “Should we be cautious about … things?”
“Things?” she asked, and he raised his eyebrows. “Oh, no, you don’t need to be concerned about that. I can’t have children.”
Rickson furrowed his brow. “How do you know?”
Rhis took a deep breath and looked away. She wasn’t sure how much she wished to share. “Part of my training included working with poisons. I learned how to handle and mix simple concoctions. I also built resistance to many common toxins.”
“You poisoned yourself?”
“Only in small doses,” she said. “It’s been worth it. I’ve walked away from disaster more than once because I was immune.”
“Are you ever going to tell me about this?” Rickson said, running his fingers beneath her shirt, tracing the scar.
She almost slapped his hand away, but there was something comforting in letting him explore the puckered skin. They both knew it was there, and he hadn’t seemed turned off by the idea of it. She drew the fabric of her shirt higher, exposing her abdomen. The scar was still pink, although it had faded a great deal from the angry red scab that had taken so long to heal. It cut across her body diagonally, beginning at her right shoulder and ending at her left hip.
Rickson propped himself up on his arm and ran his fingers up the ruined skin. “Did one of your jobs go wrong?”
“No, this happened before,” she said.
“Before?”
“I wasn’t born with a knife in my hands.”
He smiled, and trailed his fingers down again. “It’s hard to imagine you as something else.”
“It was a long time ago,” she said. “Punishment. For choosing the wrong man.”
“Really?” Rickson said, lifting his eyebrows. “This, over a man? That doesn’t sound like you.”
“I was young, and foolish. I thought I was in love, but my family had promised me to another. My betrothed was a brute. He thought his woman needed to be disciplined, and he did so without mercy, even though we weren’t yet wed.” Rhis looked away. It had been so many years, but the memories of the pain that man had inflicted stood out like the scar on her body. “So I ran away with my lover. When we were caught, he was exiled. If I had capitulated, they would have accepted his punishment as enough, but I continued to defy my family and that of my betrothed. You have to understand, honor is everything in Thaya. I spit on the honor of both families, publicly. Still, what he did to me was not honorable. By law, they could have had me executed. Instead, my betrothed attacked me in private. When he was finished, he maimed me and left me for dead. Unfortunately for him, I survived.”
“Did you…?” Rickson trailed off.
“He was the first.”
“Is that when you decided to … you know, take money for it?” Rickson asked.
“Not exactly,” Rhis said. “After he attacked me, I sought out the Order of Assassins in Thaya. It’s the kingdom’s nasty secret, that not all disputes are resolved in glorious open combat. The men would probably have me killed for speaking of it, but everyone knows the truth. The men of Thaya go to war, but the women have their own ways of handling problems. Sometimes that means doing things quietly. I convinced them to train me, but I was forbidden to use my talents on the man who had wronged me. These sorts of killings are strictly regulated by the Order, and the women are never permitted to use their skills to further a personal vendetta. I assured them I simply wanted a new life, and this was my best option.” She paused, looking up at the ceiling. “I was lying, of course.”
Rickson snorted out a laugh, and Rhis couldn’t help but crack a smile.
“As soon as I was able, I took my revenge,” she said. “I made sure he knew it was me, and I made him suffer. He’d taken my life, my honor, my place in the world. I had nothing left, and all I wanted was for him to die. When it was over, I went to the Order and confessed. Then I fled. I left Thaya by way of Halthas, and took a ship across the sea.”
“And the next thing you know, you’re one of the most notorious killers in Attalon,” Rickson said.
Rhis shrugged. “I had to make a living.”
“I suppose I can understand that part.”
“What about you?” she asked. “How does a nice Attalonian boy become a rogue smuggler with his own ship?”
He cracked a smile, his dimples puckering beneath a day’s growth of stubble. “I’m not Attalonian.”
“You’re not?”
“I’m from the Amber Isles,” he said.
“I’ve never even heard of that. Where is it?”
“South, down the coast in the Carthian Sea. You follow the coastline for a while, then head into open water. It’s not an easy journey most of the year. Hidden rocks and coral reefs will rip the hull of a ship right open, and the current wants to take you anywhere but the Isles. There’s a long rainy season, but it’s warm all the time. The sea feels like a bath.”
“It sounds lovely,” she said. “Why did you ever leave?”
“I followed the money up here, I suppose,” he said. “I understand about being young and foolish. The Isles are nice, but there wasn’t much for a hot-blooded kid like me. I wanted adventure, and riches. A lot of pirates and smugglers use the the outer islands as hideaways, so it was easy for me to find my way in with those sorts of men. I’ve been back once or twice, but it’s a long way off. A lot of my crew hails from the Isles as well, so when we get the chance, we like to make a trip.”
“Why is it called the Amber Isles?” Rhis asked.
“Well, to be fair, it isn’t a very original name,” he said. “The sand on the beaches is a rich amber color. Something about the soil or the rock out there, I guess. It’s a sight, I will admit.”
“Maybe you’ll be able to visit again soon.”
“I reckon I will,” he said.
Rhis rose from the bed and dressed, slipping on her pants and boots, and fastening her belt. Someone knocked at the door and Rickson groaned.
“A moment,” he called toward the door. He stood and pulled on his clothes.
“Do you think Athon’s ship is getting closer?” Rhis asked.
Rickson glanced at her as he pulled on his boots. “No. I’m sure the bastard’s still back there, but if he was gaining, the crew would be beating down the door to tell me.”
After dumping Athon into the harbor, Rickson had pushed his crew to get the Wanton Maiden underway as quickly as possible. They had struck out on a course for the river Rickson thought would take them close to Senlas, the ship cutting through the water at a fast clip. Late on the first day, as the sun drifted low, they had caught sight of a ship following in the distance. They knew it was Athon, and Rickson had spent the last several days working the crew hard to increase the distance between them and Athon’s ship. He spent a good deal of time looking across the water with a spyglass, muttering to himself, a
nd shouting at the crew.
Rhis followed him out on deck and went to the rail to look back. The faint outline of another ship could be seen near the horizon, the tall sails poking out above the waves. The image of Asher’s face, marred by a purple welt, came to her mind. The boy was healing well, but the thought of Athon hurting him made her furious. When had she started to care what happened to Asher? It wasn’t long ago that she had been willing to trade him to Cormant to get her life back. The kid had gotten under skin. So had Rickson, for that matter.
It had been so long since she’d let anyone get close to her. Keeping people out had been the only way she could survive. But now that she had, she couldn’t let them get killed on her account.
“Rickson,” she called out. He stood across the deck and looked up from a conversation with his second-mate.
He finished speaking with the sailor and made his way over to her. “I know, Athon is still back there. He isn’t getting any closer, and we’re almost to the mouth of the river.”
The ragged coastline loomed in front of them.
“Your plan to go to Senlas sounded like a good idea at the time, but our friend back there changes things,” she said, nodding toward Athon’s ship.
Rickson rubbed his chin. “He’s making the men jumpy, but we’ll be able to keep our distance.”
“Will we?” she asked. “Maybe we need to rethink our plan.”
“Our plan is sound. What’s one more man who wants you dead?” He grinned, showing off his dimples.
“Now Athon is just ‘one more man’? I thought he was the most feared man on land or sea?”
“He’s a tough bastard, but we’ll just have to be faster than he is.”
“Rickson, this isn’t going to work,” Rhis said. “If you want to take Asher to Senlas, then by all means, trudge into the mountains with him. But wherever I go, Athon is going to follow. I need to cut my losses now. I’ll send a bird to my contact in Altia as soon as we hit the next port. I’ll have to find a way to negotiate with him.”
“You and I both know it isn’t that simple, otherwise you never would have concocted that scheme to take Asher with you.”
