Catlike in nature and name, she landed lightly on her feet. Passing a cursory glance at the hairline scar on his arm, the only remnant of his heroics thanks to her handiwork, she gave him a smile and propped herself against the balustrade. Tyler remained silent, memorising the final twist of the labyrinth, and mentally flipping through the list of directions before filing it away for another time. The Pirate Lord’s Island, now unmanned.
It looked like any other port, albeit the castle made for a rather imposing figure. The warships in the bay too, were impressive, although they held something un-used about them, like sculptures rather than active ships.
“You been here before?”
“Once. Not to council though. I hear it’s a sight to see.”
“It’s not in the castle?”
Cat pointed out over the town, to the remaining hulk of the volcano that had created the island. “It’s in there.”
~
Irena was trying her best to convince herself that she wasn’t terrified. Or at least give off that impression outwardly. She’d surreptitiously pinched her cheeks a good few times to keep some colour in them. Her stomach was churning like a tidal pool. She felt like a child again, and was surprised when Jim’s hand didn’t dwarf her own as he helped her into the rowing boat. They had passed through the castle without hesitation, down a spiral of stairs that led to the real reason the castle had been built so close to the water.
The man-made cave was crowned with overlapping arches of stone, expertly built to be strong enough to support the huge building that sat atop them. The water was still, no tides reached this chamber. Irena suspected it had been made that way. Tyler hadn’t said anything when she’d called him forward to escort, though she’d clocked the surprised expression he’d masked. He was useful, no matter the history behind them. She was tactical in her decisions, as she always was. Jim was the muscle, Tyler was the thief, Anya the blade, and Malcolm the brains. The four of them combined shouldn’t miss much. Plus he made her feel calmer, though she forced thoughts like that away.
Purely tactical.
Fortunately it was dark enough in the tunnel that she could get away with closing her eyes for a moment, release the pure panic before hauling her breathing back into order. Light broke over them once again. Irena snapped her eyes open, caught Tyler’s looking back at her the second before he looked away. This was the crater of the volcano, long dead. Huge walls burst up on all sides, a ring of blue sky hypnotisingly far away. None of it was as impressive as the tower though. Bursting from the water, a feat of engineering. It looked like an eyeglass, in shape and for the dome of glass that crowned it.
The boat they travelled in continued across the water, slipping beneath an arch at the base of the tower. They disembarked in a chamber similar to the one they had just left. Footprints marred the collected dust on the stairs, the sign of other passengers making the very same crossing. Only those called to council and their escorts came to the council chambers, and there hadn’t been a council in many years. Their guide ushered them onwards, gripping the rope that served as a banister with hands like claws. He looked like he was about to keel over, if he was the cleaner perhaps that accounted for the amount of dust.
Twelve of the most powerful pirate captains, covering all four corners of the earth. Arguably the most powerful people in the world, what remained of order over the seas. The council. If the crossing of the labyrinth hadn’t been terrifying enough the people gathering in the hall were the sort Tyler would put on a mental list of ‘Don’t ever try to rob them. Ever.’ The glares they shot him warned that he’d wind up crucified on their figureheads if he put a foot out of place. All captains had been granted four escorts. No one would disarm, as this wasn’t a parlay, but it had already been made clear that violence would be frowned on. They hadn’t entered the council rooms yet. The Wolves were yet to arrive, and they couldn’t very well make a start without the chairman.
“Little sis.”
“Hello boys.” They were hardly boys, both tall, created for stealth and silence. Nimble yet muscular. They had hazel eyes in place of Irena’s black ones, and dark hair rather than her fiery locks. Were it not for the familiarities in their features he wouldn’t have marked them as siblings. Irena cocked her head at Tyler, “This one’s new. Tyler, my brothers Jon and Kris. Brothers, Tyler.”
“Fresh meat? Sis must like you if you’ve been let in here.” Their accent was slightly different to Irena’s – betraying the varying upbringing they’d received, despite the blood they shared.
“I’m useful.”
“He was a Master Thief. Tyler can break in anywhere, and steal anything.”
One of them whistled under his breath. “High praise indeed.”
Tyler couldn’t remember which was which, they looked like clones of each other. They were even wearing the same black trousers and jackets, their hoods against their backs. And while Tyler had always considered hazel eyes a gentle colour, theirs were sharp, uncompromising. Knowing how they’d been schooled, he didn’t mind admitting to himself that they made him nervous. “I wouldn’t go quite that far.”
Irena tutted. “Shut up and let me boast about you Tyler – these two are pig headed enough as it is, I owe them a bit of boasting.”
“Mongrel.” They grabbed Irena in a headlock and tousled at her hair, though she immediately started struggling to get out of their grip.
Eventually she pushed her way loose, running a hand through her hair to reorder it. If Tyler wasn’t imaging things she was blushing slightly – though why he wasn’t sure. Because they’d embarrassed her in front of her crew? Nah. Irena didn’t care about such things. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were both retired.”
“Ma asked us to keep an eye on proceedings, prevent any slit throats.”
“Or make sure the correct throats get slit if it comes to that.” Their matching grins assured Tyler they’d much prefer that option. He made a mental note not to get on their bad side.
A bell rang, and the council filed in to take their seats. The council room hadn’t been used in a long time. It had that undeniable smell of somewhere that has been left to grow dusty for a great many years, and has only recently been aired out. Polish and incense had been used to try to mask the musky odour, but didn’t do that great a job of it. He could see why they insisted on continuing to use this room though.
The dome of glass that covered the ceiling gave a beautiful view of the sky above, light splitting into tiny rainbows as it passed through the crystals and frame of stained glass that had been collected together. It was difficult to tell what time of day it was without the sun in view, but the deeper indigo through the clear patches of glass betrayed that it had taken longer than it had seemed to pass through the underground tunnels to reach their destination.
Tyler withheld his surprise at the number of pirates who had gathered. The long table was already almost full. He took up a spot on the wall between Anya and Malcolm, Jim slipped into the seat beside Irena. It had all been prearranged, he’d known what was coming, but Tyler was unable to deny the jealousy he felt that Jim was the one at her side. Then again, he was the first mate, what right did Tyler have to be there?
She’d looked scared. She’d been trying to hide it. He wasn’t sure which was worse. He rubbed his tongue over the metal pick secured above his gum without being fully aware he was doing it, and concentrated on examining the pirate leaders who had assembled.
It wasn’t hard to tell who Tristan and Tigerlily were, even without the clear resemblances between them and their children. They had taken the head of the table, as Merek’s emissaries they were to chair this meet. Tristan’s salt and pepper hair was still thick, tied back at the nape of his neck. Stubble traced his jaw, and black eyes, like Irena’s, stared back at him coolly. Tigerlily had longer hair than her daughter, almost to her hip. Laughter lines were the only other thing to betray her age. Her eyes were the hazel of the twins, the red shine to her hair a hint to
where Irena inherited her own fiery locks.
The other end of the table remained bare, an empty seat marking the place Merek would normally claim as his own. As much of a significant gesture as a reminder for what they were here for. Jon and Kris, Irena’s brothers and Merek’s assassins, stood either side of the empty seat, one hand at their back, the other pointedly on the hilt of their swords. Tyler’s lip curled into a grin, there were certainly a fair few Wolves in here.
Tigerlily and Tristan’s four stood directly behind them: a Southerner man with bright blue hair, skinny and tall; a dark haired well-muscled man with the look of the North about him, in all but his colouring; a man with auburn hair, brighter than Irena’s, threaded with a fair few grey hairs, and cloudy blue eyes framed with wrinkles; and the last was a woman, dark skin, Deserter perhaps. Though which island she hailed from Tyler couldn’t be sure, he’d never been great at determining between the isles. None of them claimed a seat as Jim had.
Tyler wondered who knew of the connection between the first mate and the late Pirate Lord. Did he look like his father? Clocking a few double takes and narrowed eyes, Tyler decided that he probably did. More stared at Irena though. Her invite had been personal, perhaps her parents had it in mind to make her a member of the council now that whatever history had been between the Wolves and Merek had died with him.
Beside Tristan was a mysterious figure who had not removed his hood, nor the cream scarf wrapped around the bottom half of his face. You could only see it was a man from his eyes. His first mate was a small man, much older than one would expect to still be an active pirate. But, old pirates were old for a reason.
The other captains were rather similar in stature, no other female captains aside from Tigerlily and Irena, though there were a couple more as escorts. The pirate across from Irena caught her eye and winked. He had dark hair, a short beard, green eyes and a Western Isles tattoo across his cheek. Old enough to be her father. Tyler set his jaw a little tighter.
Anya glanced at him, and leaned closer. “He’s her godfather. Marco.”
Despite the noise in the room, at the mention of his name Marco’s eyes snapped up, meeting with Tyler’s. He gave a quick grin before turning back to the table.
As the last few seats were filled Tristan stood. Immediately the general noise from the room died down.
Tristan grinned a little, then settled his expression into something more sombre. “Welcome, all of you. Thank you for accepting the invitation to gather here. I realise it is not something to take lightly, and that some of you have travelled great distances to be here. I am sorry that I was the one to break the news to you, that Lord Merek has passed on. I can confirm for you all now that this was no falsehood. Lord Merek is dead, and I have brought you here so that we may find a suitable replacement.” He reached into his longcoat, pulling out an envelope. “Merek’s will. It has not yet been opened. I thought best to wait for you all before I did so. Please, pass it along, check for yourselves that it is sealed.”
He was taking no chances. But then Anya had warned him that pirate meets were always like this. Nobody trusted the captain next to them, save perhaps in the case of Tigerlily and Tristan. Those who were strangers were potential enemies, even if they were all pirates.
Once the parchment had been handed around, and everyone convinced that the letter was genuine and sealed, Tristan slipped his thumb under the wax, breaking it open. He unfolded the paper, flattening it out on the table, before beginning to read. It started out like any other will – and Tyler had read his fair share of those – marking out objects of Merek’s personal belongings and who he wished them to go to. Tyler was not surprised to hear Jim’s name come up, though clearly a few in the room did not understand the connection between Irena’s first mate and the deceased Pirate Lord. There were a fair few grumbles, and raising of eyebrows.
Tyler couldn’t see Jim’s face, but he saw his shoulders tense.
Tristan continued without a falter, and got to the section they had all been waiting for. “…As to who I would recommend to replace me in my role, not that my word counts for much now that I’m dead, I hope you will all seriously consider my candidate. I believe them to be an exemplary pirate, proficient in adapting to this changing world in a way that I never was. I have watched their progress with considerable interest, and every time I hear of their feats it only serves to convince me of their suitability. I, Lord Merek, tenth Pirate Lord, name as my successor, Captain–” For the first time, Tristan faltered, his lips moving soundlessly for a moment. He stared up at his daughter, “Captain Irena Wolf.”
The room burst into chaos as shouts erupted from around the room. Chairs were thrown back, hands gripping hilts of swords. Immediately the other captains claimed a fix, claimed that Tristan himself had planted those words. Tristan denied their claims furiously, throwing the paper to the group who clambered to gather around it and see the words for themselves.
A tall young captain with blonde hair pulled himself to his full height and shouted over the din, “It means little. She is nominated, that is all!” He snarled.
Irena hadn’t moved. Tyler wished he could see her face, have some clue as to what was going through her mind. Across from his goddaughter, Marco too had remained seated, his eyes locked onto her. He nodded very slightly, and Tyler noticed her palm grip into a fist. She pushed her chair back.
“I accept the role of first candidate. I appreciate that I have not attended council before, so I rely on you all to guide me as to what happens now. But don’t think for a second that I am some bimbo that can be pressed into situations for your gain.”
“See, she doesn’t know anything.”
Marco stood up, “My goddaughter has made it perfectly clear that she is not some fool, nor a tool to be wielded. She stands as a candidate. So, who will stand against her?”
“This is ridiculous, we need time, we can’t decide like this.”
“You wish to vote on her as a sole candidate?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You’re putting words into our mouths.”
“I’m chairing this meeting.”
Tyler was surprised how quiet Tigerlily was being – he’d expected her to make herself known, have a little more presence. But she just sat there, watching, calculating. So she was that sort of hunter.
“Well no one’s stepping up to the plate, so what else are we to do? No one willing to play their hand, is that it, not willing to openly stand against Lord Merek’s orders? He’s dead boys, there’s no need to be so anxious.” Tristan glared at the room, waiting. It remained silent. “If that’s the way we’re playing it.” He muttered, before raising his voice, “Irena stands as sole candidate. As usual all votes are by majority. The vote will be held tomorrow. Sleep on it. Since no one else is willing to stand forward, if you decide she is not suitable then we’ll go from there.”
Chapter 18
A knife in the dark
Irena drifted awake, shifting slightly between the sheets. The breeze from the window was tickling at her neck. It smelled like salt, the calming scent of the ocean. There’d been a only a few times in her life she’d been out of sight of the shore, and it always made her feel uneasy. One foot in the ocean, one foot on land – that’s what her mother always used to say. She’d confessed the same fears to Irena once, when Irena had rushed into her room crying one night. They’d been staying inland, she couldn’t remember where. But the lack of the waves lapping the shore had frightened her. Her ma had stroked her hair, and told her it was just because she loved the sea. She missed it.
A weight leapt atop her, causing Irena to jolt upright – or try to. Black clothes, assassins clothes. Irena hissed as she felt the metal against her throat, then fought her arm free, shoving the weapon back. Her knee found contact, her attacker backing off enough for her to push herself properly out of their grip, scrabbling her way out of the sheets, onto her hands and knees. Her neck hurt, but she didn’t raise a hand to it. Weapons, w
here had she put her weapons? She threw herself off the bed, taking all but a step before they were upon her again, one of her arms already in a pincer like grip. He was pulling her against himself, trying to overpower her, get her back to him. Panic set in, her mind went blank. Weapon. She needed a weapon.
The edge of his knife glinted in the moonlight. He was gripping her throat now, half strangling her as he fought to keep her restrained enough to use the blade that he clutched. Irena’s eyes darted around the room, her vision was going starry. She took in a deep breath, held it, and braced her back. He flipped over her, his spine slamming into the floor. Irena stamped on his hand, pulled the knife free. He clawed himself up again, lunging for her. Irena slashed the dagger across his neck with a defiant scream.
Blood sprayed, then he collapsed to the ground, his legs folding under him, and the rest of his body following.
Irena stood, panting, gripping the dagger tightly. Blood dripped from the blade.
The bedroom door was thrown open. She almost didn’t register as Tyler ran in shadowed by her parents. Her hands were trembling, the dagger falling out of her grip as her mother grabbed her in an embrace. Irena let her, didn’t raise her hands to hug her back. She felt numb.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
Her mother’s questions sounded far away, she was surprised to find her mouth responded. “No Ma, I’m fine.” She glanced at Tyler over her mother’s shoulder. His gaze remained fixed on the ground. Look at me. Look at me.
Her father bent down to examine the assassin, not shrinking back from the blood that painted his fingers. He rifled through pockets, pulled back the corpse’s shirt. The head flopped uselessly as he manhandled it. “Not an assassin. Not a trained one anyway. He’s one of Captain Clarke’s. That two faced bastard, I thought he was one of the ones who agreed with Lord Merek’s wishes.” He dropped the body back to the floor with a thud.
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