Master of Myth (The Antigone's Wrath Series Book 1)

by Starla Huchton

  Iris was at her side, regarding the waiting men. “Are you sure you don’t wish me to accompany you?”

  Rachel shook her head, remembering the last time they visited Yong Wu. “I can’t risk it. You know he’d love to add you to his… collection.” She grimaced, recalling the harem of witches, seeresses and mediums he kept around for “entertainment.” He’d taken a fancy to Iris, believing her to hold some sort of mystical power. “Besides which, I need you here. If anything goes wrong, it will be up to you to finish this little adventure.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t speak of it so certainly,” Iris said. “I have no desire to be captain, nor to take on the Brotherhood. I will leave both in your capable hands, thank you.”

  She gave a half smile and clapped the first mate on the shoulder. “How kind of you.” She glanced back down to the pier and took a deep breath. “Well, wish me luck.”

  “Captain, if I thought you needed it, I would do so.” Iris smiled warmly. Rachel chuckled before heading down the stairs.

  The two merchants, who were nearly invisible during the journey here, appeared and strolled down the gangway, looking relaxed and refreshed. They garnered looks filled with irritation from the crew as they went.

  The last to appear was Danton. Rachel watched an odd, wordless exchange as his eyes met Iris’s. There was a quiet longing in his gaze as she gave him a genial, but distant, smile. Danton was most assuredly interested, but something was amiss with Iris. Rachel thought it odd that an intelligent, kind, attractive man, and one who clearly fancied Iris, stood no greater a chance for romance with the first mate than a cold, dead fish did. The matter confounded her many times. It was not a new subject. Iris simply refused to consider any gentlemen suitors, Danton included. She let out a resigned sigh as the master-at-arms joined the party on the dock. She turned away and nodded to their escort. Without further conversation, Yong Wu’s guards led them off the pier.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Gangster

  She left her best weapon with Iris.

  Rachel’s mind returned to that thought the entire march to Yong Wu’s palatial compound. She knew they would search for and take any weapons they found on her upon arrival, but still, she missed the feel of her gun strapped to her rib cage. It was her security, and its absence plagued her.

  As she predicted, the moment the compound gates closed behind them, all obvious daggers, pistols, and swords were removed from both her and Danton’s possession. They relinquished them willingly, as a show of good faith. Rachel didn’t mention the knife concealed within the sole of her boot, however. She would give Yong Wu the advantage, but refused to be defenseless. She wasn’t stupid.

  She also handed over a wrapped bundle, indicating it was for the Hakka leader. It contained the knife she had taken from Li Han as proof of his Brotherhood involvement. Rachel asked that it be presented on her arrival.

  She knew Danton was not as deadly without a blade, but his hand-to-hand combat skills were nothing to disregard. On more than one occasion, she saw him snap arms and legs in brawls and skirmishes. If any member of her crew could handle themselves in this situation, he was the one. If Yong Wu had a mind to eliminate her, she’d make sure to take as many of his men with her as possible.

  Once disarmed, they were escorted into the main building, a three-tiered structure with swooping roofs tiled in gleaming brass plates. After passing through the massive, ebony wood entrance, they stopped in front of large, rice paper sliding doors. The queued man of the escorting party spoke to a posted guard who, in turn, slipped inside the room and disappeared from view. Several minutes later, he returned, opening the entrance to allow the entire group to proceed.

  Gleaming wood floors reflected the light from the gas-powered fixtures attached to the support beams lining the expanse of the meeting hall. The master here had expensive and technologically advanced tastes regarding his home.

  Rachel fixed her gaze on the front of the room, where Yong Wu lounged on his throne. Several dozen of his black-clad guards sat on their knees, knuckles pressed into the floor, awaiting the command from their Lord Mercenary. A path up the middle of the group led to the front. She tried to hide her displeasure at her circumstances. Any sign of weakness would invite disaster. Being a woman was enough of a mark against her here; she didn’t need to give him another reason to disrespect her.

  They stopped, and the escorting guards circled behind the visitors. No one spoke as the opponents sized each other up.

  Yong Wu leaned on his left hand, long nails pushing into his cheek. His left foot hung over his right knee and shiny gold slippers caught the light as he bounced his foot, an indicator he was unhappy about who stood before him.

  “Why…” Yong Wu began, his voice nasally as he drew the “w” out longer than necessary. “Why is it that the only captain brave enough to transport my cargo is this… woman?” The venom in his voice was tangible as he spat out the word “woman.”

  Rachel bit back her urge to rail at him. Her position was a precarious one, and any misplaced word or snide comment could make the difference between an uneventful transaction and a slit throat. She refused to speak unless spoken to. Under any other circumstances, hurling a dagger at his chest would be her first response. The blasted truth of it was that her whole plan hinged on the outcome of this meeting.

  Yong Wu sat up and leaned forward, and his eyes narrowed as he stared at Rachel. “I could have you executed where you stand. Tell me why I shouldn’t.”

  She forced her expression to remain unreadable. “I could have your cargo torched.” There was no malice in her words. “The safety of your precious tea depends entirely on the return of myself and Monsieur DuSalle to my ship. If I am not back on board, unharmed, by an appointed time, I’ve left standing orders with my crew to destroy the goods you started a war to get.”

  His jaw set and face flushed an angry shade of red. “You are bluffing.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Are you willing to wager the entire shipment on that suspicion?”

  He was silent, and she knew he was considering his options. Taking the cargo by force might prove too risky. His knowledge of the Antigone’s Wrath armaments and layout would be limited. There were too many unknowns. She saw his mental scales of logic tip in her favor. Brute force was not an acceptable choice. She allowed the corner of her mouth the flicker of a smile. The first victory went to her.

  “Very well.” Yong Wu settled back. “Excellently played. Now as for my men you killed in Baraawe—”

  Her fists clenched tightly, then relaxed. She exhaled. “The ones who tried to kill the only person capable of securing your cargo? The ones who spoke with unabashed hatred about their employer? The ones also working for the Brotherhood? Those men I killed?” Rachel crossed her arms in front of her, silently smug. One of the guards scurried to the front and knelt in front of the throne, presenting the opened bundle to his master.

  Yong Wu flicked his gaze at the weapon, then back to her. He was visibly unhappy at this turn of events. By disposing of disloyal men, Rachel had actually done him a favor. With so many of his men witnessing the interaction, he was now beholden to her. He wouldn’t be able to tolerate that for long. “It appears I am in a position to grant you a request in repayment for your considerable trouble.” A muscle below his left eye twitched hatefully. “Is there something I might grant you?”

  It was all she could do to keep from laughing out loud. Stifling any and all outward signs of amusement, she made her request. “We seek safe passage to the Tibetan Plateau. Will you grant me immunity from attack while my ship is within your area of control?”

  While clearly irritated at having to grant her anything, he seemed relieved that this was all she asked, but also that his debt could be repaid immediately. “Done. I give you two weeks immunity in any area within my reach.”

  “Then we have an accord.” Rachel nodded. “We’ll return to my ship to oversee the unloading of your cargo and—”

  “Ba
ba!” An impatient female voice broke through the closing niceties. “You promised me the next ship that—”

  “An jing!” Yong Wu slammed a fist on the arm of his chair. “Not this one, Jiao.”

  A young Chinese woman stepped out of the shadows from the right side of the room, hands on her hips, lips pursed angrily. She was a tiny thing, dressed in the finest green silk cheongsam, gold dragons embroidered throughout, her black hair drawn into a tightly secured bun at the base of her skull. She argued with him now, in Chinese. Rachel blinked confusedly as the exchange grew heated, unsure of how to react. Jiao’s voice rose in pitch until it was nearly unbearable to hear. “You promised me!” She screeched. “Pian zhi!”

  “Enough!” Yong Wu pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. He ground his teeth together as he looked up at Rachel, at the end of his patience. “Captain Sterling…” he trailed off, took a deep breath, and spoke again. “I must ask one more thing of you.”

  Her mouth hung open slightly. Could it be? Was the merciless, cold-hearted Yong Wu completely and utterly wrapped around the finger of his daughter? She snapped her jaw closed and stood up straighter. “Ask what you must.”

  A pulsing vein added to the growing cacophony of twitching muscles in his face. “My daughter, Jiao, has made me promise to send her for training at a monastery in Tibet. She wishes to board your ship and have you take her there.”

  Rachel blanched. This couldn’t have come at a worse time. Not only could she not guarantee the girl’s safety outside of her father’s home, but, in fact, the trip could prove to be fatal. “I… I… My apologies, but I don’t think it’s in her best interest to—”

  “Let me rephrase,” he cut her off. “If you refuse this request, I will personally guarantee that the last several months of your life will be spent in complete agony.” The blaze of anger behind his eyes told her he was deadly serious. He was so intent on this that he would risk the destruction of the cargo he worked so hard to secure in order to make this happen. Clearly, he would rather have that than his daughter unhappy.

  Either way, it would end badly for Rachel. She sighed, resigned to her fate. “Very well, but be sure that this… favor,” she paused for emphasis, “will be remembered.”

  The significance of this registered on his countenance, and he gave her a tight nod. “Jiao!” His head whipped around to his daughter. “Prepare your things. You will depart in the morning.” The girl gave an excited squeal and rushed out of the hall. He turned his attention back to Rachel. “You understand the great responsibility I am entrusting you with?”

  She swallowed in an attempt to ease her dry throat. “I do. Am I to assume then, that should any harm come to her, I will be held accountable?”

  “You are correct.”

  She took a deep breath and went all in. As long as she was risking her neck, she might as well get something out of the deal. “Then you will also make sure my ship is adequately supplied and armed?” This was pushing the limit of his generosity, but she had little left to lose.

  Yong Wu snapped his fingers and three of the kneeling, pony-tailed guards popped to a standing position. “You!” He pointed to one on her left. “See that Captain Sterling’s rations are fully stocked. And you two!” His hand shifted to the other side of the room. “See to it that her armory is prepared for any eventuality.” The three men bowed and exited.

  “Return to your ship, Captain Sterling.” He folded his hands in his lap. “In the morning, I will send Jiao to you, along with instructions for her conveyance. Her things will arrive within two hours time. I expect you to clear an adequate space for her to accommodate her belongings.”

  “Belongings?” Rachel balked. “Exactly how much are we talking abou—”

  “Two. Hours. Time,” he repeated, punctuating each word. “I suggest you be on your way.”

  She bent at the waist, giving a small bow of respect. “By your leave, then.”

  Danton, Rachel, and their escorting party departed at a quicker pace than when they arrived. Their weapons were returned to them at the gate, and they were on their way back to the Antigone’s Wrath.

  The chaos at the dock was much more organized than it appeared. While Yong Wu’s cargo was being unloaded, another group of men restocked the food and water supplies. Yet a third group was attempting to pack as much extra ammunition into the armory as was possible. Rachel was sure Yong Wu had lost his mind if he thought all of this would be completed by mid-morning.

  And then, Jiao Wu arrived, an entourage of young men hunched over from the weight of her luggage trailing behind her. This, on top of the main baggage from the night before, was hardly a welcome weight.

  Rachel’s gaped as she took in the sight. She hadn’t thought it was possible to fit any more chaos into this mess, but it appeared she was wrong. Yong Wu’s daughter continued down the pier, and the crowd parted without so much as a word from her. The girl had a distinct presence. She held her head high, back straight, and walked as though she owned everyone and everything within her line of sight. She was draped in brown silk this time. The embroidery was minimal, so these must be her traveling clothes. Rachel’s eyes followed the girl’s progress down the dock, then up the brow. Jiao’s gaze swept across the deck, stopping when she came to the captain. Rachel set her jaw and prepared to put the child in her place as she approached. Temper tantrums and screaming would get her nowhere, and Rachel wanted to make that very clear from the start.

  Before she had the chance to say anything, Jiao halted a few paces from her, bowed, and spoke in a calm, controlled manner. “A good morning to you, Captain Sterling. If you have a moment, I would beg an audience to discuss our destination and my accommodations for the duration of our journey.”

  Baffled by this unexpectedly mature behavior, Rachel nodded. “Er, yes. Of course. If you would follow me, please.” She motioned to Iris, who was reviewing some inventory, to accompany them. By chance, she glanced at the front of her ship and frowned. The harpooner was gone. She mumbled a curse under her breath. She would deal with that later.

  In her quarters, Rachel offered Jiao a chair, and then seated herself behind her desk. Iris prepared tea while the other two talked.

  “Now, you were saying, about your destination?” Rachel folded her hands and rested them on the desk.

  “First, I feel I must address another issue,” she said. “I could see from your face yesterday that you were not at all pleased at having me aboard your ship.” Rachel made to protest, but Jiao held up a hand to stop her. “I assure you that the…” she paused momentarily. “The exchange you witnessed yesterday is not my preferred method of interaction. I would rather deal with things in a more adult fashion, but sometimes my father is stubborn, and a different tactic is required. When I learned of who had come to Singapore, I knew it was my only chance to meet you.”

  Rachel raised an eyebrow. “And why was it so important that you meet me?”

  Jiao smiled. “I owe you a great deal for freeing me from obligation to Li Han. I have wanted to meet you since I heard how you stole his hand. Any woman who would stand up to him and to my father is a woman I must know.”

  “I don’t make a habit of removing the appendages of others.” Rachel smirked, then frowned as she remembered the confrontation, “but I don’t take kindly to assassination attempts, either.”

  The girl nodded. “As for that, I hope you can trust that I’ll not attempt any such foolishness. There are far too many other methods to employ before resorting to violence. I do what I must to get what I want, but I do have my limits.”

  Rachel was silent as she studied the girl. Iris placed a cup of tea on the desk for her after handing one to Jiao. The two women sipped their drinks as Iris retrieved her own cup and sat next to the younger woman. “Which monastery are we seeing you to?”

  “I received an invitation to study with the monks at Zhuqing monastery,” Jiao explained. “It was an unsolicited correspondence, but I was quite excited to be asked.”

&n
bsp; At the mention of Zhuqing, Iris choked slightly on her tea. “Zhuqing? Who sent for you?”

  Jiao set her cup on the saucer, and looked at the first mate, evidently as surprised as the other. “Jamyang Drisa Rinpoche. Do you know of him?”

  Iris’s confusion was obvious. “He was my teacher for many years. I didn’t know he was taking on more students.”

  “Then this is a happy coincidence.” Rachel smiled. “It appears we’re headed for the same location.” She took another sip of tea.

  Iris’s eyes narrowed. “It would appear so.”

  At her tone, Rachel’s smile faded and she looked back and forth between Jiao and Iris. There was clearly more to this discussion than was being said. Whatever it was, she was sure Iris would fill her in later.

  Miraculously, all the cargo was unloaded, all ammunition and supplies were restocked, and all of Jiao’s possessions were stashed on board shortly before eleven that morning. Rachel marveled at the efficiency of Yong Wu’s workers. They scurried off the dock now, looking more like ants than men, as the Antigone’s Wrath cast off the lines and pulled away. In a little more than a day’s time, they would arrive at the Zhuqing Monastery, hopefully to find some answers.

  It was a treat to have a normal underway. Too many times of late, their departure was hasty and unprepared, and this took a toll on the pipes and sails. A small bit of welding was necessary at this stop to fix a bulging pipe, but that was seen to and completed in record time.

  Silas remained holed up in his workspace, and she hadn’t seen him since she ordered him to make himself scarce. That was as it should be, but she found she missed his presence a little. His absence was probably for the best. Jiao hadn’t met Silas, and Rachel didn’t trust her yet. Despite her initial honesty, the girl admitted to resorting to almost anything to get what she wanted. That more or less boiled down to a “the ends justify the means” mentality. While, admittedly, some of her own dealings were in a morally gray area, Rachel never accepted a job she knew would bring harm to innocent parties. Small victories of conscience made her feel much better about some of her more questionable choices.