Which was exactly what Uriah was waiting for.
He clicked the heel of his boot twice, causing the spur to jingle in a precise way as a signal to his partner. Spurs were an entirely unnecessary accessory for most pirates… but most pirates didn’t have a blind partner who was excellent at listening for auditory cues.
“621 on the list of reasons why nobody likes you, Uriah…” Ransom began.
Uriah gave a quick high-pitched hunting whistle, their longstanding signal for “Kill him/her/them.”
Ransom lunged forward and wrapped her arm around the man’s neck, then stabbed him with the jackknife she carried, “…you ‘ain’t’ amusing.’” She finished.
At the same instant, Uriah threw his hat into the face of the man across from him as a distraction, then swiftly drew his swords, slicing at one of the other men and cutting him from neck to waist. The first man recovered his senses and swung his own weapon, which Uriah dodged, then he calmly sliced open the man’s stomach and kicked him away so that he slammed into the stone wall, and was dead before he hit the ground.
Stiller lunged forward in an attempt to run Uriah through, but Uriah parried the strike so that Stiller’s blade stabbed the man across from him. Uriah then turned to swiftly decapitate Stiller with the heavy edge of his Khopesh blade. The curved sickle sword took the man’s head clean off and sent it tumbling down the street with a wet echoing sound.
Uriah turned in a quick circle to make certain that all of his opponents had been dispatched.
Ransom nonchalantly let her victim fall to the ground in a bloody heap and flipped her jackknife closed.
“Huh.” Uriah watched the scene expressionlessly for a moment as the men’s blood stained the cobblestones at his feet. He turned to look at his partner. “What an entirely preventable tragedy.” He heaved a weary sigh. “It seems that some fresh misfortune has befallen our beloved crew, Dove. Will they ever catch a break?”
The girl didn’t move a muscle, her scarred face remaining entirely impassive beneath the shadows of her tattered hood. “Halfway pirates.” She observed calmly, derision in her tone. His partner was always personally offended by posers and people who didn’t live up to the proud ethos of piracy and crime.
“Indeed.” He nodded sadly. “May the Gods save our profession from the dilettantti, Dove.” He agreed. “They have no passion for our craft.”
“Maybe you should stop hiring people based on their ability to remember dirty songs, and instead start looking for people who know how to sail or fight?” She offered unemotionally. “Just a suggestion.”
“But I already know how to sail and fight.” He argued logically. “If I have to endure other people, the least they can do is keep me entertained.” He straightened his coat. “Besides, if I hired people who could fight, I’d have a harder time killing them when they inevitably betrayed us.”
She thought that over for a moment. “Well, you got me there.” She admitted.
“Ha!” He nodded. “That’s right. Bow to reason.”
“I don’t know what would happen if you ever made an enemy who wasn’t a complete idiot.” She thought aloud.
“She almost killed me with an arrow and then punched me in the face.” He smiled at the memory. “But thanks in no small part to a convenient bout of amnesia and my own magnetic charisma, we were able to put that misunderstanding behind us.”
“I’m just lulling you into a false sense of security.” Ransom teased.
Uriah threw his head back and laughed, still having a wonderful day. True, he had killed a higher number of people than usual so far today, but that was to be expected.
Weekend.
The crewman Stiller had inadvertently stabbed, rose up on his elbows and weakly put his hands up.
Uriah stooped to retrieve his hat, then watched the man for a moment, pursing his lips. “Our best course of action?” He asked his partner.
Ransom shrugged disinterestedly, as if none of this concerned them anyway.
Uriah nodded in understanding. “Excellent guidance, Dove, as always. This is why you’re in charge of charting the long-term goals of our enterprise. Too often I find myself steered by my gentle soul, rather than letting the more down-to-earth practical concerns of business direct my course.” He chuckled, as though admitting something he was ashamed of. “But such is my nature, I suppose. I have the heart of a poet.” He turned to look at her again. “Remind me to show it to you sometime, yes? I keep it in a box on my dresser. The unfortunate chap it belonged to didn’t need it anymore.”
His partner snorted in amusement and then they both broke into genuine laughter a moment later, finding themselves the funniest people around.
He absently swung his sword again, putting the man out of his misery.
He really had no other option.
If he let the man live, it would put Ransom in danger.
So the man had to die.
Piracy was a brutal trade, but its rules were easy to understand. The crew all knew that going in.
“Come, Dove.” He put his weapons away, then took her hand to help her over the bodies. “I’ll buy you a cool libation at the hostelry while we continue to await our contact’s tardy arrival.”
Her hand was so soft and small in his.
He loved touching that woman. Even if it was just something tiny and casual like this. After years in her company, it still caused his heart to beat faster and his throat to become dry. Just feeling her skin against his…
He found quietly holding her hand more sensual than the prospect of a lifetime of sexual exploits with anyone else.
But she didn’t want him.
He knew that.
She’d told him that.
But if this was as far as he could ever expect their relationship to go, it was more than enough. He could be happy with this.
She made a non-committal sound and pointed at the bodies. “I think that’s probably why everyone hates you, Uriah.” She told him, starting to walk from the scene using her cane to guide her way. “Because you’re a tough man to kill, try as they might.”
He started after her. “But that still doesn’t explain why anyone would hate me to begin with, Dove. Yes, I’m rather difficult to kill, but why would anyone even decide to try?”
“Do you want me to continue telling you reasons? Because I have a few hundred more, if you really want to hear them. I’ve been keeping a mental list for years.”
He rolled his eyes. “Again with the negativity.”
“Reality has a way of inspiring pessimism.” She agreed.
He made a face at her retreating back, feeling annoyed and pouty. And when his good mood was in danger of crashing, he always turned to one thing. “Dammit… I want a cupcake.”
She stopped in her tracks at the non sequitur. “Huh?”
“What?” He shrugged. “I want a cupcake.”
“I don’t think they make cupcakes here.”
His eyes narrowed in irritation as his gaze flicked around the godawful town in question. “Bastards.” He pointed at her. “What kind of uncivilized kingdom doesn’t have cupcakes? It’s no wonder its people are so deceitful.” He held up a finger. “First rule of piracy, Dove: never trust a country that doesn’t have cupcakes.”
“This whole enterprise is going sideways, Uriah.” She turned so that he could see her face.
“I couldn’t possibly agree more.” He shrugged. “But I’m sure they must have some kind of dessert which…”
“Forget about your fucking cupcakes.” She snapped, cutting him off. “We still have no ship. We’re still broke. And your potential client is still nowhere to be found.”
“Oh, we’ve been in worse shape than this before.” He waved a dismissive hand again as he caught up with her on the road. “You just always like to pretend that every little setback is the end of the world.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re a catastrophist, Ransom, that’s what you are.”
“It’s hard to be a pirate without a ship,
without a crew, and without something to steal.” She reminded him. “And we have no other way of making a living.”
“True, ‘Piratical Engineer: twenty years ago to present’ doesn’t look too good on a résumé.” He conceded. “But on the other hand, I do interview very well. I find that good people skills are a more important asset than experience. You have…” He caught her arm to stop her a moment. “Oop, watch out for the severed head, Dove.” He casually kicked Stiller’s decapitated head to the side so that Ransom didn’t trip over it, then returned to his thought. “You have to really care about people, you know?”
She pointed at her scarred face and the blindfold which covered her ruined eyes. “I’m not exactly an employer’s first choice of new hires to begin with.”
He watched her silently for a moment, then tenderly wiped a drop of her opponent’s blood from her cheek. Her skin was soft and warm and reminded him on the most basic of levels that he was a man.
And that she represented everything he had ever wanted… but could never have.
“You would be my first choice for anything.” His hand lingered on her face, seemingly of its own volition. Like it was incapable of tearing itself away from her. “There will never be a time when I pick someone or something over you.” He swallowed. “Ever.”
She opened her mouth to say something, then stopped. She turned away from him abruptly, clearing her throat. “Yeah… but you’re an idiot. And it’s not like deciding to work with you was the best business decision I ever made, anyway.” She shook her head. “I need a job that actually pays.”
“Oh, come on!” He called after her playfully. “We’re a team!” He hurried after her. “What’s money between friends?”
Chapter One
Five Years Ago
“Keep your ‘friendship,’ all I want is the gold.” Uriah told the other captain bluntly. “You can take the cargo and whatever else you find.”
Captain Rowland considered that for a moment. “The prize is already in my hands, Uriah.” He pointed at the ship in question. “I fail to see why you and your men deserve anything.”
At the moment, Uriah was standing on the deck of his ship, The Deceitful Whore, watching as Rowland’s men cleared the last of their quarry’s defenders away.
The battle had been going on for quite some time now, and by the look of it, most of the soldiers on the enemy craft were dead.
For her part, The Deceitful Whore had played no real role in the chase or the taking of the ship, but good manners dictated that Uriah and his men should get something for their effort, even if they’d done little more than stumble upon the action already in progress.
Or at least, that was Uriah’s take on it anyway. The actual procedure used by pirates in situations like this really didn’t matter to him.
Uriah was a greedy man, generally unconcerned with the feelings of others, especially when the “others” in question happened to be his fellow pirates. In his opinion, he was entitled to whatever he could take. And life had given him the ability to take quite a bit.
“My men and I deserve a share because we’re asking you nicely, Rowland.” Uriah eyed the man seriously, keeping his tone level. “I hope you understand the difficulty I would have explaining to my men that, yes, a valuable ship was taken, but they will have nothing to show for it because you had already claimed it all.” He paused for a moment. “That wouldn’t make them happy, Rowland.” He slowly turned his gaze to glance at Rowland’s ship, which was essentially a sitting duck for the Whore’s cannons, then back at the other captain. “Angry men are unpredictable.”
“That’s extortion, Uriah.” Rowland gasped.
Uriah held up a finger to make a correction. “I prefer to think of it as: ‘a compulsory gift.’”
“I have other ships.” Rowland gestured to the vessels joining him in his fight against the prize he’d just taken. “Ships which would open fire on you in return, should you move against me.” He countered. “You’d be sunk.”
“Possibly.” Uriah nodded, unable to disagree on that point. “But how would that help you not to be dead?”
Uriah had arrived on the scene, full of smiles and well-wishes for his fellow pirate. But he had also deliberately placed the Whore precisely where she was, poised to rip the guts out of Rowland’s flagship and blast the man himself straight to the afterlife.
Uriah was a thief… but he wasn’t stupid.
Rowland was silent for a moment, then burst out in laughter. “You greedy little bastard!” He slapped Uriah on the back. “I’ll give you 5%— which considering this score, is enough to make you rich— as long as you promise to return the favor one day.”
“Absolutely.” Uriah nodded pleasantly in agreement. “You have my word of honor.”
But Uriah had absolutely no intention of ever returning the favor. None.
What he took, he kept. He’d sink it to the bottom of the sea before he ever shared it with anyone.
He was a greedy, selfish, and possessive man. He always had been.
But Rowland didn’t need to know that.
The other captain clapped him on the back again. “Come, my boy. Let’s go inspect the prize I’ve caught.”
Uriah tried to keep the distaste from showing on his face. He couldn’t stand Rowland. Despite the man’s apparent friendly disposition, he was a bottom-feeder. Rowland was a slaver who attacked unarmed civilian ships and sold their passengers into servitude, but only after mistreating all the women and girls. He took time off from that charming little hobby to steal medical supplies from relief convoys and generally profit any way he could off the suffering of others.
Uriah didn’t really believe in that. Which was probably why Rowland was making money hand over fist off this war, while Uriah languished in obscurity.
But no matter.
Even 5% of this catch would be enough to keep him in the good graces of his crew for the foreseeable future. He had no idea how even Rowland had managed to track and overpower a ship that size though.
The warship in question loomed over the waves like a fortress, flying the Adithian flag.
Uriah also wasn’t sure what a ship from the Southern Isles was doing this far north, but luckily, none of that mattered.
Because either way, he was about to get paid.
And Uriah loved getting paid.
He found that gold had the most wonderful ability to quiet any lingering moral uncertainties about the circumstances of the gold’s arrival into his life. Gold was the most persuasive talker in the world.
Rowland started back towards the gangway which stretched between his ship and the Whore. “Frankly, I’m rather surprised that you got here so quickly.” The man told him conversationally. “We didn’t even get word of this until the day before yesterday.”
“Word of what?” Uriah asked, not really caring but wanting to stay on the man’s good side so that Uriah wasn’t forced to kill him.
That would be awkward.
Rowland pointed to their quarry. “Got word of her through the regular channel and tracked her down with the greatest possible speed.” He nodded in appreciation. “It speaks well of you that you almost beat us here though.” He pursed his lips in thought. “Did you get the letter early or something?”
Uriah was silent for a beat as he tried to decide his best course of action. “Something like that.” He agreed, being as cryptic as possible.
In actuality, he had stumbled upon this battle through sheer happenstance. Uriah had no idea what the other man was talking about, but decided that it was best to pretend like he did.
“What did your letter say?” Uriah hedged, trying to see what fount of potential criminal schemes he was missing out on and just how he could go about being added to this mysterious benefactor’s mailing list. “I’m curious what took you so long? If we are getting different letters and different information, I think that’s something we both need to know, so that we don’t get played for fools by our… mutual friend.”
Uriah’s hand fisted at his side and he silently reminded himself that he couldn’t simply kill the man and be done with him.
Uriah was by no means an amateur at this. True, he hadn’t been doing it as long as Rowland had, but he’d been a pirate for quite some time. Longer than most. And he’d been fighting and killing his entire life. Certainly for more years than Rowland, when all was said and done.
The only “rope” he wanted anywhere near Rowland was a hangman’s noose. He couldn’t stand the man. Rowland was a butcher and a bully. He was everything wrong with piracy and the world itself.
Uriah was a killer and a thief, but that didn’t mean he had to be a jerk about it.
Rowland got off on being a jerk about it. That was his entire reason for going into piracy in the first place. He didn’t want to be rich or free; he simply liked having power over weaker people.
Uriah was an asshole. Rowland was a monster.
Rowland was charming and he smiled at all the right times, but the man was a monster all the same. And he’d helped school an entire generation of pirates to be just like him. A beloved mentor and treasured friend to half the psychopaths who worked in the industry, sharing with them the cruelties and horrors which brightened his day and made him rich.
Uriah didn’t believe in putting people in chains. He didn’t believe in killing the innocent. Robbing them? Sure. Holding them for ransom? Absolutely. But not killing them. If Uriah robbed you, it was because you could afford to be robbed. If he killed you, it was because you needed killing.
Rowland did the opposite.
Uriah thought Rowland took things too far. And generally speaking, if even someone from the Grizzwood thought you were taking things too far, you were incredibly out of line.
Travels With a Fairytale Monster Page 36