The Queen's Pardon (Alexis Carew Book 6)

by J. A. Sutherland

  She had a moment to take in the farmhouse itself as Kannstadt and his men came downstairs with a morose farmer and his sons firmly held by two men on either side of each. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it had certainly been that a farmstead which worked its fields with slaves and used implanted explosives as a threat to keep them docile would not look so very much like the home she’d grown up in.

  The house was small, with but a sitting room, dining room, and kitchen downstairs. The dining room was the largest, with a long table indicating the family and farmhands all ate together. The sitting room was smaller and probably just for the family, with a long couch along two walls and a pair of comfortable chairs all facing an entertainment center and the farm’s data core. The decorations were different from her grandfather’s house — the myriad bits and pieces that made the home this family’s and not some others — but take those away and move her grandfather’s in, and the place would feel like her own home.

  What she could make out of the kitchen, a clean, practical space, reminded her so much of home that she could picture Julia, her grandfather’s housekeeper, there even now. The bunkhouse beyond, where Kannstadt’s men were busy trussing up the three remaining farmhands, was neat and tidy, not the filth and disarray she’d come to expect from pirates, much less expected from slaveowners.

  In all, it was far too homey a place to reconcile with the half-naked men she’d seen working the muddy fields the day before.

  Kannstadt reached the bottom of the stairs. He pointed to the dining room and barked out some German to his men, then to the front door and ordered something else, before coming up to Alexis.

  “As agreed,” he said, handing her the pistol he carried butt first. “My men will return their weapons to yours and arm themselves as they may from this farm.”

  “Thank you. It needn’t have been right away.”

  Kannstadt shrugged. “We were once enemies and trust is hard. It is better to have no doubt.”

  Alexis nodded. The fact was she would be most relieved when all her lads had their own weapons back.

  “I have sent men to the slave barracks to free them and those most experienced to begin removing the devices. We should go there — I would have you with me in case any are of New London.”

  The Hanoverese captain fingered his ear and neck, as he always did when he spoke of the slaves and the means of controlling them on Erzurum. Alexis couldn’t imagine how having such things in one’s body, even for a short time, might affect someone.

  Alexis nodded. She could see that New London spacers, held captive here for so long that they didn’t know there was now a cease-fire in the war, might be wary of such a large force of Hanoverese.

  “These —” Kannstadt nodded toward the dining room where his men were binding the prisoners to chairs set back against the wall. “— we will question, hein? Before you contact your ships, to make certain there are no tricks to guard against.”

  “Tricks in their comms?”

  Kannstadt nodded and started for the door. “We have not seen it, but the older slaves tell of codes that must be entered, or an alert is sent to neighboring settlements.”

  “I see.”

  Alexis followed him. She wondered what other methods these small farms might use to control their workers — she disliked to even think of them as slaves.

  Her own men and the rest of Kannstadt’s had arrived and milled around the yard and on the dikes. Hers were tracking down the weapons they’d turned over and Kannstadt’s were returning them — some of his reluctantly and hers examining the returned weapons carefully for any sign of damage. It was a wary truce, still, and she respected Kannstadt for turning the weapons back so quickly.

  No dike ran directly to the slave quarters. Instead, the fields between were smaller than the others and staggered, so that one’s approach was either a series of turns and walks away from the true course or a slog across those fields and up and over a series of dikes.

  Alexis and Kannstadt took the dikes.

  They arrived at the barracks and found five of Kannstadt’s men clustered around the open door.

  There was a brief exchange in German and Kannstadt explained, “They are New London and will not come out. They think we are an enemy or that the farmer will set off their explosives if they leave the building. I would have Ian speak to them first, as he did to you, but he is wearied.”

  Alexis nodded, the New London lieutenant in Kannstadt’s band did seem worn out by his effort at talking to her that first day. He’d sat in the cave, staring into space in such a way that Alexis worried for him, but Kannstadt said this was not unusual and he would come back eventually — though he said it with such determination that Alexis wondered if the New Londoner’s spells might be becoming worse and Kannstadt worried for him, as well. They’d had some success in getting him to his feet and moving with them for the attack on the farm, though he’d still moved sluggishly, as though unaware of what was happening. He was likely on his way across the fields from the tree line with the rest of Kannstadt’s men even now.

  They stopped a few meters from the open door, unable to see within its shadows, and Alexis cupped her hands to her mouth.

  “Halloo, you in the barn! We’re friends! New Londoners come to get you — you can come out!”

  There was silence for a moment, then a voice called, “Who are you? I heard Hannies!”

  “It’s a joint force, sir,” Alexis called back, assuming it was an officer speaking. “There’s news of the war. A cease-fire holds, so no fears of the Hanoverese here.”

  “Are you in control of the farm? I’d rather keep my head attached, if it’s all the same to you!”

  “I understand, sir.”

  She shot a look to Kannstadt.

  “It is safe just outside the barracks.”

  “I’m told the devices are still active, sir,” Alexis called out, “but it’s safe to come out a bit.”

  In trickles, twos and threes, and hesitantly, men began to emerge from the structure.

  The men were as skinny and ill-kept as Kannstadt’s — more so, for where Kannstadt’s men had trousers and shirts of the scaled snakipede skins, these wore only bits of cloth wrapped around their waists. They were still covered and stained with the muds of the fields, whatever the constant drizzle hadn’t washed away on their way back to the barracks. Their exposed skin was red and raw in places from the corrosive effects of Erzurum’s mud.

  One man came to the fore — back erect, despite the filth and primitive garb.

  “Who are you again?” he asked.

  “Lieutenant Alexis Carew.” She used her Naval rank first to give him some comfort. “Commanding the private ship Mongoose, in action against the pirates.”

  “Lieutenant? Royal Navy?” the man asked. “They’ve come for us.”

  “A certain force is here, and the battle’s not done yet,” she told him. “We’re private ships, but we’ve come to get you out of this.”

  The man’s posture eased, as though all the weight in the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He smiled and stepped forward, still not out of the building’s shelter, but closer and he held out his hand.

  “Private ships or no, we’re bloody glad to hear a New Londoner’s voice, I tell you. Captain Ellender, Inscrutable.”

  Alexis saw his wince at naming the ship he must have lost in some battle, before spending who knows how much time adrift in its dead hulk or making for safety in a boat before being taken up by the pirates. She took the offered hand.

  “Bloody glad, I say,” Ellender repeated. “You have these Hannies well in hand, I hope?”

  “This is Captain Kannstadt. He and his men were captured by the pirates as well, and his men make up the bulk of our force. Captain Ellender, I should tell you, the war is over — a cease-fire, at least,” she added quickly as Ellender started to ask a question she was certain would be about who won.

  “I see,” Ellender said. “Thought as much — the cap
tives, I mean — when those blokes opened the barracks door. All snakeskin and not proper uniforms.” He eyed Alexis. “Not that yours is better.”

  “Our boat crashed some distance from here and we had to make our way through the swamps, which is where we encountered Captain Kannstadt’s group. They were instrumental in taking the farm and freeing you, Captain Ellender.”

  Alexis hoped that knowledge would ease any lingering tension Ellender had about the large number of Hanoverese milling about. He hadn’t yet found that Alexis’ New London force was outnumbered by their former enemy nearly four to one, nor truly had time to adjust to the cease-fire.

  “I see, well.” Ellender cleared his throat and held his hand out to Kannstadt, his other hand going to brush back his hair, which was long and unbound. The gesture uncovered his ear which, unlike Kannstadt’s men, was unscarred, but instead still carried the slaver’s odd assortment of rings and studs. “My thanks to you, as well, then, Captain Kannstadt, there being a cease-fire and all, yes?”

  Kannstadt took the offered hand and nodded.

  Ellender’s free hand went from his hair to his neck. “The, ah —”

  “We will work to get the codes from the farmer,” Kannstadt said, “and begin removing the devices. I have a man who is experienced and the farmhouse has proper equipment.” He fingered his own neck. “It will not be so ragged as some. As soon as it is safe, we will begin.”

  Ellender nodded and his shoulders slumped. “I suppose we must stay here until you have those codes, then.”

  They took their leave, assuring Ellender, and the others who’d begun to cluster nearer the door, that they’d be free as soon as possible, and started the walk back to the farmhouse.

  “Captain Kannstadt,” Alexis asked, something gnawing at her, “these devices — you said the items in the ear have something to do with it?”

  Kannstadt nodded. “Ja, yes, there is one in the neck, which will explode, and these in the ears, which are — to track, to record, to give information, you understand? The patterns say a thing, too —” He spat into the muck of a nearby field. “— about who is der Herr.”

  “I didn’t see any earrings or studs on the farmer and his men,” Alexis said. “So, it is not some sort of Barbary custom? A fashion adapted for those things?”

  Kannstadt shook his head. “They are free. It is only for slaves, and only on Erzurum.”

  Alexis felt a growing anger. She’d seen such things before in the Barbary, only not on Erzurum. Many of those back on Enclave, workers in Wheeley’s casino, wore the same heavy assortment of rings and studs, which she’d taken for some sort of fashion there. If they were not, if such things were only done on Erzurum and only for those sold as slaves, then what did it mean?

  Wheeley owned the casino there, and, now she thought about it, she’d only seen that odd ear piercing in the casino itself, not anywhere else on Enclave. Was Wheeley also a slave owner? And if he was, then he must be involved with the pirates in some way.

  It would explain his seeming inability to get her any information at all on the fleets, despite Avrel Dansby’s assertion that he was the man to ask. It might also explain the tainted solution for Mongoose’s beef vats, if she wasn’t rushing too far afield in her suspicions.

  If the man was involved with pirates and slavers, might he not be willing to sabotage the supplies of a ship searching for those things? The other private ships had reported no problems with the supplies they purchased on Enclave, but none of them were specifically looking for news of the missing fleets and their crews. They wanted only word of pirates — or, preferably, the easier targets of merchants who dealt with pirates. Alexis and Mongoose had been after the source as Wheeley well knew.

  “Bloody bastard,” she muttered.

  “What?” Kannstadt asked.

  “Nothing — I’ve only found I must plan for a future meeting, it seems.”

  She and Kannstadt returned to the farmhouse and the waiting prisoners.

  The seven men — well, six and a boy, as the farmer’s youngest son was with them — were lined up against the wall, hands bound behind them and legs bound to the dining chairs’ legs. Two of the farmhands were in nothing but briefs and the one Alexis took for the farmer’s eldest son was naked, the others wore whatever they’d been sleeping in. All had the dark hair and brown skin she’d found common to the Barbary.

  The farmer himself was older, balding in the middle, with a long mustache going grey. He was fit, but under a layer of fat, and he glared at Kannstadt with undisguised anger bordering on hatred.

  Kannstadt looked at Alexis, then barked something in German and one of his men tossed a cloth from the dining table into the naked man’s lap. The Hanoverese captain approached the farmer and fired off another rapid string of German that had Alexis fumbling for her tablet in order to translate it. The farmer snorted, but made no other response.

  “Sprechen sie Deutsch?” Kannstadt demanded.

  “Ecdanını sikiyim,” the farmer said, spitting at Kannstadt.

  Kannstadt stepped back, face red as he wiped the farmer’s spittle from it. “This one will claim not to speak a civilized tongue,” he said, nodding to Alexis’ tablet. “If you will, a translation will be easier than forcing him to admit he does.”

  Alexis keyed the tablet’s speaker instead of her earpiece and set it on the table near Kannstadt.

  “Now we have no difficulties, hein?” Kannstadt said.

  “Profanity filter your ancestors,” came from the tablet in response to the farmer repeating what he’d said before.

  Kannstadt glanced from the tablet to Alexis and she felt her face grow hot.

  “It has some settings I haven’t bothered changing,” she explained.

  Seventeen

  O’, shout me hearties, jump me mates,

  To see her resoluteness.

  No force could keep her from her path,

  Nor trickery pass her shrewdness.

  Kannstadt crouched in front of the farmer.

  “Tell us the codes to access the planet’s net and it will go easier for you,” he said.

  “Kill me hard or easy, racial slur on those of Hanoverese origin — either way we are dead and we will not help you do the same to our neighbors.”

  “We have no interest in your neighbors,” Alexis said. “We only want to contact the ships in orbit and be on our way.”

  It wasn’t strictly true. She did intend to visit his neighbors, and every other farm, settlement, and holding on Erzurum, until all of the enslaved spacers of the fleets were freed — along with any other slaves held here. It would only be with the overwhelming force of her privateer fleet and once the pirates themselves were dealt with, or possibly a fleet brought back from New London or Hanover. A strong enough force might minimize the resistance and loss of life. Perhaps Kannstadt could take some sort of control of the system as Hanover’s representative and put some official weight behind it.

  All of which, though, would depend first on her being able to contact the fleet without bringing all of the neighboring farms and settlements down on them.

  “Pirates,” the man muttered, spitting again, but this time on the floor and not in Kannstadt’s face.

  “Not the pirates,” Alexis said. “A privateer force out of New London.”

  The farmer cocked his head at her. “Those who attacked the pirates?”

  Alexis smiled. If the farmer had no love for the pirates occupying Erzurum, then perhaps he’d help them with more than the communication codes for his network.

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s a large fleet — large enough to defeat the pirates if we can fully man the ships while not giving up the targets we hold on the ground.” That was probably too much information — the farmer wouldn’t understand what was necessary and likely wouldn’t care. “My ships are in orbit now and we hold several positions on the ground — if you help us, we can free your world from the pirates.”

  The farmer stared at her for a moment, then th
rew his head back and laughed.

  “Barbary dog!” Kannstadt quite unexpectedly drove his fist into the farmer’s gut, cutting off his laugh.

  “Captain Kannstadt!” Alexis yelled.

  “Fischer,” he said, ignoring Alexis. “Get the men.”

  “Ja.”

  One of Kannstadt’s men left the dining room and then the farmhouse.

  “Bauer,” Kannstadt said, nodding to one of the farmhands.

  Before Alexis could react, the man drove his wooden spear through a farmhand’s thigh.

  “What are you doing?” Alexis made to put herself between Kannstadt and the captives, but two of his men grabbed her arms.

  “You will be easy to them,” Kannstadt said, “because you have not been on Erzurum.” He pointed to the farmhouse door. “You have not worked those fields with a knife always at your throat!” He turned back to the farmer. “You will tell us — or next it will be your boy, and it will be his belly, and you will watch him die a slow death full of pain.”

  Alexis struggled briefly against the men gripping her, but couldn’t easily get free. She might be able to free herself, but it would mean doing them real damage, and Kannstadt had four others in the room. She had the pistol he’d returned to her, and her flechette pistol still tucked away at the small of her back, but she and her lads were still outnumbered by Kannstadt’s — the New Londoners in his group would likely come over to her side, but they might not even understand what was happening until it was too late.

  “Captain Kannstadt,” she tried saying calmly, “this is not the way. He’s a simple farmer, not one of the pirates — not some enemy.”

  “You do not know,” Kannstadt said. “War does not choose the just or the righteous, Kapitän Carew. War chooses who will survive.” He turned back to the farmer. “Tell us.”

  “Kill us now or leave us on Erzurum as you did my grandfather’s grandfather, pig,” the farmer yelled. “I have heard the tales of our outcast!”