The Duke & the Pirate Queen
Page 25
“I think,” Imena said, “that one of those bonnets probably costs a great deal, and wouldn’t be very practical aboard ship. But if you wore it many times, say, every shore leave for six months, the value per wearing—” Casually, she laid her hand on her knife. “Pretend nothing is wrong,” she said.
“What is it?” Norris asked.
“I thought I recognized someone. There, across the street. One of Venom’s sailors.”
Norris’s breath caught. “I see her. She’s the one who made Roxanne take her hook off. I recognize her scar, there, by her ear. You can see it when she turns her head.”
“She’s seen us,” Imena said. “Let’s walk, shall we? Easy. Think about bonnets.”
“There’s no joy in hats for me just now,” Norris said, her breathing a little rushed.
“Stay calm,” Imena said. “Pretend you’re about to shoot someone, and need to have steady hands.”
“That is completely different from this, Captain,” she said. “We’re not in the middle of a battle, when you expect such things. Any minute now, she’s going to throw a knife at us, or shoot, and next thing, we’ll be running down the street with a troop of filthy pirates chasing us. I thought I was done with that sort of thing. I thought I only had to keep your clothes clean and pressed. And take a turn in the rigging now and again. Do you know how many times I’ve been chased in my life?”
“No, I don’t,” Imena said, slowing before another shop window. The glass was poor quality, but good enough to see that their follower had been joined by a companion.
“I don’t, either. It was too many times to count. I don’t want to die now. I’m too young. I haven’t even—”
“You’re armed,” Imena reminded her. “Use your cutlass if you have to. I know you can do it. If you lose your cutlass, use your knife.”
“Aye, Captain,” Norris said. She sounded a little calmer.
“Is your pistol loaded? Don’t put your hand on it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The next time I chaff you about carrying that thing, remind me of this day.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Deliberately, Imena slowed her pace. She hooked her arm casually through Norris’s and led her down a narrow, angled street. “I’ve spotted another one,” she said, keeping her voice low and steady. When she was sure Norris had regained her equilibrium, she released the girl’s arm and slipped her hand into her trouser’s pocket. She carried a knuckle protector there, on some occasions, and was pleased that this was one of them.
Imena said, “If we’re attacked, and there’s an opening, you’re to run. That’s an order.”
“Aye, Captain.” Norris did not sound pleased.
“You’re to run and fetch help. Don’t bother hunting for Chetri in particular, it’s numbers I’ll likely need. Use your judgment.”
“Sir.” Norris’s voice squeaked slightly on the word, but Imena didn’t remark on it.
She’d spotted a third pirate, and a fourth. These were less concerned with discretion than the others. One of them, a brawny man with waist-length braids, elbowed aside an innocent pedestrian, who nearly complained before taking a good look and retreating hastily.
Norris squeezed a little more closely to Imena’s side and said, “I saw another one, Captain. Do you think if we went into one of these shops, we could—”
“No. We don’t want them to follow us in, and perhaps harm people who have nothing to do with this.” She paused. “You could do that alone, perhaps. I could cause a distraction, and you could escape out the back, and bring back reinforcements.”
“I don’t want to leave you, Captain,” Norris said.
“You will if I order you. But all right. You may stay with me a little longer.”
Imena walked more quickly. In her peripheral vision, she saw another pair of pirates, easily recognizable in their black garb as two of Venom’s crew. One of them braced a halberd against his shoulder, and she caught a glimpse of a cutlass at his side. The other’s torso was wound with chains; spiked metal balls dangled against his ribs. She’d never seen anything exactly like it, but it was clearly a weapon. The scars on his face indicated he’d fought often and bloodily.
“We’ll avoid those two,” she murmured to Norris.
“Don’t look! We’re probably faster, but that won’t help against that much upper-body strength, and their weapons look as if they have reach. We’ll aim for the women we saw first. They were only armed with cutlasses, that I saw.”
“Aye, Captain.” Norris’s voice trembled slightly. Imena squeezed her arm, and her shaking eased. Norris said, “They’re herding us back to the docks.”
“Yes.”
“We might find help there.”
“Very good,” Imena said. “Don’t forget the water as an escape route, and the ships and docks as protection. Just be careful where you jump.”
“I grew up portside,” Norris said, now sounding more miffed than afraid. “I know not to bash my head on a piling.”
Imena grinned. “Good, then you’ll jump right in as soon as you’re clear. Look, you can hide behind that heap of nets and then make a dash for it.”
“Captain!”
“You will fetch help,” Imena said, implacable. “On my mark. One, two, go!”
A small shove helped Norris on her way. To Imena’s satisfaction, the girl darted swiftly into concealment for a short distance before appearing only briefly at the end of a dock. She plunged into the water like a thrown harpoon.
Imena’s breath rushed out of her, then she drew it in again, deeply, preparing for a fight. The pirates didn’t rush her as she’d expected. All six of them approached her slowly, closing in, forcing her toward a long pier.
She glanced left; she was at the far end of the docks, well out of range of Seaflower. She glanced right and saw Venom’s black pirate ship, its paint and rigging altered to look more innocuous. At the end of a nearby pier stood Cassidy himself, a cutlass balanced on one shoulder, his poisoned dagger in his free hand. He was smiling at her, well pleased with himself. He spat on the dock.
If he’d been smart, he would have simply shot her. Imena bitterly regretted not borrowing Norris’s pistol.
She glanced around. This far-flung area of the docks was nearly clear of ships and their accompanying cargo, fishing gear and other detritus. There was little concealment. She glanced over the side. Along with the usual flotsam, something white and red bobbed in the water, jerked, was dragged and once again bobbed to the surface. Another—they were the corpses of goats or sheep, she couldn’t quite tell—slammed into a piling and was swiftly dragged under, streaming red into the murky water. Snouts and fins surged, white and gray. Heavy jaws seized and mauled; the sun gleamed off flashes of razor-sharp teeth.
“Fuck him with a brittle bowsprit,” she muttered, drawing her cutlass. The cup-guard hilt curved over her bare hand. She drew her knife with her other hand, glad she’d carried the longer one today. Its prominent cross-guard would help her to keep Venom’s poisoned blade from her.
She wasn’t sure when or if help would arrive. Regardless, she was equal to this type of fight, and angry enough that she didn’t want to draw it out. Taking another deep breath, deliberately emptying her mind, she strode to meet her opponent.
She stopped just out of lunging reach, her weapons at the ready. “Where’s your mistress, Captain Cassidy?” she asked.
“Otherwise occupied,” Venom said, again flashing his unsettling, empty smile. “My name is Venom.” He lifted his cutlass from his shoulder and spun it in his hand, the blade flashing in the afternoon sun.
“I’m surprised she let you out on your own.”
Venom took a step closer, and she retreated the same distance. He said, “Litvinova is no longer my concern.”
She hadn’t succeeded in luring him into a rage. Imena shifted her balance, watching Venom’s every twitch and hoping for a momentary advantage. If she was quick, and lucky, she might be able to end this befo
re it really began. She eased closer, close enough for their blades to engage. “Does that mean she didn’t provide you with a reference?”
“I’ve taken my payment and have no more need of that old cow. She did not amuse me.” He licked his lips. For a moment, they gleamed. “After I’ve killed you, I’ll take your ship.”
Imena laughed. “Feel free to try.”
Venom spat. Green liquid pooled on the wood near Imena’s foot. She sucked in a breath and he attacked, a straightforward lunge.
She flung up her blade to parry his. Steel rang. She withdrew a step, then attacked.
She didn’t think. Her feet moved, her arms swung her blades, all too fast for thought. His longer blade clashed against hers, skidded, clanged into her cup guard. The shock reverberated up her arm. His teeth flashed, bubbling with poisoned spit. She reared back and he lunged with his poisoned dagger. She barely managed to trap its blade with her own knife. When he spat, she ducked sideways, eyes closed; poison landed on her tunic. She wasn’t sure if it would burn through the cloth, wasn’t sure of its effects. She had to finish this quickly.
Using all the strength of her back, she shoved him away from her, at the same time thrusting and twisting her knife in a sharp move that flipped Venom’s dagger out of his grip.
He staggered backward and she lunged, her cutlass meeting his in a flurry of noise and numbing impacts. She risked a glance to see where the poisoned dagger had landed; it wouldn’t do to step on it with her bare foot. In that instant, another dagger shot into Venom’s hand from a concealed harness she should have been expecting.
He forced his blade to scrape along hers, pushing with his superior strength to get close enough to use the dagger. One touch of its poisoned tip and she likely wouldn’t last long. Panting, she used leverage to thrust him away from her again and attack in a shower of blows, forcing him to engage at greater distance.
When she began to tire, Venom attacked vigorously, grinning each time his heavier strikes knocked back her blade.
She could sense the end of the pier to her left, the sides of it before her and behind. Unless they changed direction, one of them would be forced off the pier, into the roiling mass of blood-crazed sharks. Which was Venom’s intent, she assumed. She roared out a battle cry and attacked again, trying to force him back, her breath sawing in her chest.
She stumbled. Venom yelled in triumph. She twisted her body, turning her lurch to momentum, to a lunge that slapped her cutlass flat against his body and shoved him off the edge of the pier.
First she heard only her own sobbing breath; then splashing; a wild, unrestrained screech; and then footsteps, slapping against the wood of the pier, rushing toward her. She turned and Maxime stumbled into her, seizing her arms.
His voice cut through the horrible gurgling and occasional shrieks coming from the water. He said, “Are you all right?” Looking her up and down, he yanked off his tunic and used the fabric to scrub at the blob of green poison on her chest. “Did it burn through?”
Imena looked. “No.” She took the shirt from him and tossed it into the water just in case, following it with her stained tunic.
Maxime wore a pistol tucked into his belt. She took it, checked to be sure it was loaded and walked over to the pier’s edge. She waited a few moments until Venom, or his remains, surfaced, took careful aim and shot. She gave the pistol back to Maxime. “I wasn’t sure if he was dead yet,” she explained.
Maxime swept her into his arms, squeezing her so tightly she couldn’t move. Over his shoulder, she saw Chetri and a group of her crew, armed but milling uncertainly on the dock. The other pirates were either being pursued by Roxanne and her group, or they’d already fled. She could take a moment, and if she didn’t, she thought she might collapse. She wriggled free of Maxime’s embrace and trapped his face between her hands to kiss him.
It felt like more than a kiss. It felt as if time stopped. She only released him when she had to breathe. She didn’t resist when he trapped her in his arms again, his breathing rough against her ear, his beard prickling her neck. Without willing it, she relaxed and let him hold her.
Maxime’s arms felt like safety. She knew it wasn’t true. But her feeling would not be denied.
If she’d died instead of Venom…she might never have known this.
Would giving up Maxime be worse than death?
For this, she would give up a great deal.
“Will you marry me?” he murmured at last.
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
Several hours later, Imena and Maxime were ensconced in the port master’s cozy office, eating buttered bread and drinking hot tea. They’d both refused the pickled eels. “I appreciate your help with capturing Venom’s crew,” Imena said.
The port master sipped his tea. He was a heavyset man, wrinkled like dried fruit and bald as an egg. He said blandly, “I appreciate you feeding a pirate to the sharks. That crew has been quite troublesome in the past week.”
“Norris was very pleased with her reward.” She’d purchased a special basket just to hold her new hat. Imena decided not to wonder aloud where the port master’s guards had been while she’d been battling a pirate for her life. She said casually, “I assume I have the right of salvage for the pirate’s ship? My first mate, Chetri, can take it over. He’s a sailor of great skill and many years’ experience.” She smiled.
Looking only slightly disgruntled, the port master nodded. “I’ll have the papers drawn up immediately.”
Maxime poured more tea into Imena’s cup. He looked about to speak, when a furious pounding began on the door.
“Master Chandler! Master Chandler! Pirates!”
This time, the pirate was Captain Litvinova. Even in the darkness, the bright lanterns hung on her ship made it clear she’d anchored a short distance out from Venom’s ship, currently occupied by a mixed crew of locals and sailors from Seaflower. Sound carried easily over water, and Imena heard nothing from the ship that sounded like preparations for battle.
Shortly, a boat launched. The lamps hung fore and aft signaled its ostensibly peaceful intentions. It contained only two figures, one rowing and the other sitting upright in the bow. It was easy to see her crested hairstyle even at this distance.
On the dock, Maxime stood at Imena’s shoulder. There were people nearby, but he spoke close to her ear so no one would overhear. “We know now it’s you they want,” he said. “But perhaps I can negotiate for your ship’s safety. Offer her more money than Diamanta, at least.”
“Which you are carrying…” At the moment, Maxime looked like a sailor cleaned up for shore leave, not a duke. He didn’t even have any jewelry, except the gold earrings she’d lent to him. True, there was easy authority in his posture, but that might not be enough.
“The promise of money, then.”
“What if she just prefers Diamanta?” Imena shook her head. “I think she came here after Venom, not me. We defeated her crew once, and now she’s lost both her allies and the element of surprise. It would be madness to attack us when we’re in a friendly port.”
“Could she have come for Annja and Suzela?”
“Perhaps.”
Maxime said, “I’m more neutral in this matter. Would you like me to speak for you?”
Imena pondered. At last she said, “I’ll speak for Seaflower. But be ready if I should need you.”
“Always,” he said.
Imena met his eyes. “Don’t.”
He flinched. “I thought you’d reconsidered my offer.”
“I did. I am reconsidering. It’s just…difficult. I’ve stopped worrying so much about how it would be between us. Now I’ve moved on to my parents, and your king, and the world.”
He put his arm around her and squeezed, following with a rough shake. “Small matters, then.”
Imena resisted the urge to lay her head on his shoulder and close her eyes. “Come. We need to return to Master Chandler’s office.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
She did, however, believe that Captain Litvinova had not been entirely pleased with Venom’s actions. The stories she’d been told by Annja and Suzela, in addition to what she’d witnessed with her own eyes, convinced her of that. Thus, she could believe that Captain Litvinova had a shred of conscience, and was willing to listen to her, while maintaining a healthy level of skepticism.
Maxime and Imena concealed themselves in a curtained alcove while Captain Litvinova faced the port master. After an initial exchange of stiff pleasantries, Litvinova said, “None of my crew will come ashore.”
Master Chandler said, “My men will be keeping watch.”
Litvinova said, “I would like to request information of you.”
Master Chandler looked at her for a long moment, then sat. He indicated the chair across his desk. Looking surprised, Captain Litvinova sat, as well. He asked, “What sort of information?”
“We intend you no harm. Neither your people nor your port.”
“Yes, yes. What did you want to know?”
Litvinova shifted in her seat. “The ship that now flies a salvage flag. I was searching for its captain.”
“Dead, I’m afraid,” Master Chandler said. He did not bother to affect sorrow.
Imena noted with interest that Captain Litvinova’s posture visibly eased. “And his crew?”
“In custody. We cannot charge most of them, as their names and descriptions are not all on record. We will wait weeks or months for a reply from the imperial authorities regarding those men. Perhaps you would like to take custody of a few?”