Flintlock (Cutlass Series)

by Ashley Nixon

  Cove sighed. He could hear the commotion outside now. He hated to face the crowd, though he knew it would probably be good for him to seem composed among all of them. This would be talked about for weeks, and though it hadn’t gone quite like he had expected, it would still work in his favor.

  “Where’s your stuff?”

  “Upstairs in the room you so graciously offered,” said Leaf, crossing his arms. Cove snatched his shirt from the floor and pulled it on. As he was walking to the door, Leaf called out. “You’ll find it inside the nightstand. A brown bag.”

  “Got it,” as he opened the door, he stiffened, finding Sara on the other side. Her arm was raised to knock, but she quickly faltered when she saw the ambassador.

  Cove inclined his head. “Yes?”

  “A-are you alright?” she asked softly.

  “I’ll live,” he replied stepping out of his study and shutting the door safely behind him.

  “Have you called a doctor?”

  “Everything will be taken care of, Sara,” he said as softly as he could, though his impatience was growing. “I am sorry your night was ruined by such an unfortunate event. Please accept my apology.”

  Cove bowed his head and went to leave, but Sara caught his arm. “Cove,” she whispered. “How could you apologize?”

  He searched her eyes trying to determine what answer she was looking for.

  “How could you think I would be so selfish? To be concerned only with this ball?”

  Perhaps it was unfair to accuse her of something so shallow, but it made the pain easier and the more he lied to himself about her motives, the more he understood her engagement.

  He could tell she was desperately searching for something, anything in his gaze.

  “Sara!” an angry voice cut through the air. Cove snapped his head in the direction of Ben Willow. He stalked down the hallway toward her. Putting his hands on either side of her shoulders, Ben drew her away from Cove roughly. “I told you the ambassador could take care of himself!”

  Cove set his jaw tightly, and his dark eyes went black. “Of course I can take care of myself. You must forgive her for being so kind.”

  Ben’s gray eyes narrowed, and he looked Cove up and down in disgust. “For a man everyone claims to be a gentleman, you do not present yourself like one, ambassador.”

  “I believe that can be argued. Remind me, were you the one who was shot this evening?”

  “I’d be willing to bet that was a ruse. Trying to get your enemies off your back?”

  Cove chuckled darkly. “Something like that.”

  Then Cove’s gaze dropped to Sara. “You will excuse me.” He bowed and then disappeared upstairs.

  Cove made his way down the hall to Leaf’s room. As he entered the room, dizziness overwhelmed him and he stumbled for a moment. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and moved forward, heading toward the nightstand where Leaf said his tools would be.

  As Cove bent to open the drawer, pain tore through his stomach and he fell to his knees breathing raggedly. The ambassador reached for the drawer, pulled it open, and managed to retrieve the brown bag, though his arms felt weak. He braced his arms against the bed and tried to pull himself up, but pain shot through him again and he crumpled to the ground.

  Everyone was quiet. They crowded into Cove’s study, exhausted and unable to sleep while Leaf worked upstairs. Even Camille and Nob sat with them, staring off into nothingness, waiting to hear news of Cove’s condition. Hollow had found the ambassador unconscious in Leaf’s room. He’d had to wait until the house was clear to get Leaf in to heal Cove. By then, the ambassador had contracted a fever and Leaf expressed concern that infection had set in so fast.

  Hollow stood, rubbing his face.

  “What is taking so long?” he growled.

  “The wound had to be worse than we thought,” said Barren. “Leaf is doing as much as he can.”

  “And what if that’s not enough?”

  Barren just stared at the senator. No one wanted to think about what would happen if it wasn’t enough. Hollow turned from them, scowling.

  “None of this would have happened if you had all been where you were supposed to be!” Hollow raged. He pointed at Larkin. “You weren’t even in the room,” then he pointed at Barren. “And you were dancing with the enemy!”

  Barren met Larkin’s gaze, and he could tell she wasn’t happy about what she’d seen, just like he wasn’t happy to discover she’d left. The tension in the room heightened.

  “If she was trying to kill Tetherion, she’s a little less of an enemy,” said Barren.

  “She sided with him for some reason and you can bet it wasn’t for your gain,” said Hollow. “Did she recognize you?”

  “No,” said Barren smoothly, though he felt guilty for lying. There was danger in the answer he’d give, for the woman, the king killer, was under lock and key, guarded by the very people who would like to see everyone in this house hanged. She might try to bargain for her life. Their whereabouts in exchange for her freedom. That was leverage enough.

  Hollow stared at him for a moment, as if he hoped to catch the lie in his eyes, but he soon looked away.

  “The assassin’s name is Aethea Moore,” said Hollow. “She’s also responsible for killing five of our brethren and sending the other three to the noose, so it is a surprise that she would try to kill Tetherion, don’t you think?”

  “Well you said the Commonwealth wants to kill pirates and overthrow the king. She obviously felt she could do both,” said Barren. “And perhaps she acted out of line from her command. You don’t know until you talk to her.”

  “Talk to her?” Hollow scoffed. “There’s no way to talk to her now. She tried to assassinate the king. Her hanging will be swift.”

  That couldn’t happen, not before he got his compass back.

  “Something else is at work here,” said Hollow. “And if you don’t believe that, you’re not the pirate I thought you were.”

  Suddenly, the door clicked open and Leaf entered the room. Exhaustion pulled at his face and he smelled strongly of mint and smoke. To the surprise of everyone, Cove also entered the room behind him. He did not look well. His face was sallow and perspiration powdered his skin. His eyes were lackluster, and he still wore the bloodied shirt he’d been shot in. As he walked, he held his side.

  “What are you doing up?” Hollow and Barren demanded in unison.

  “I have to see Dr. Newell.”

  “What? Why?” asked Barren.

  “Because your Elfin magic wasn’t sufficient!” Hollow accused quickly.

  “On the contrary,” said Cove. “Leaf’s ‘Elfin magic’, as you call it, probably saved my life. Show them.”

  The Elf extended his hand palm open, and Barren and the others leaned in to get a look at what sat at the center of his hand. It was a bullet, only it was red in color and veins of black crawled over the casing.

  “What is it?” asked Hollow.

  “I believe it is poisoned, though I cannot identify the type. I can tell you that the poison was strengthened with magic,” said Leaf.

  Barren’s gaze met Leaf’s, troubled. “Like the magic tied to the hemlock needle?”

  Barren had been poisoned by magic before and to cure him, Leaf had ended up needing his father’s assistance. Even then, the two Elves hadn’t been able to prevent the side effects.

  “Magic?” asked Hollow. “What does that mean for Cove?”

  “We can’t say,” said Leaf.

  “That’s why I need to talk to Dr. Newell,” said Cove.

  “The mortal doctor? What’s he going to know about magic?”

  “I’ve a feeling our men were killed with these bullets,” said Cove. “I just need proof.”

  “But…does that mean you’ll end up like them?” Barren asked. The question left a strange taste in his mouth.

  Cove’s eyes met his. “I guess we’ll find out.”

  A loud knock sounded at the door and tense silence follo
wed. Cove nodded to Camille. “Tell them I’m occupied at the moment, whoever they are.”

  She nodded, smoothing down her apron. She left the study, closing the door behind her. They were quiet while she was gone. It was Leaf who reacted first, twisting and drawing his blade as the study doors opened. A boy with wide, round eyes stood at the doorway. His hair was a mess of curls, and he wore a black suit. Perhaps he had been at the ball, yet Barren didn’t remember him. The boy didn’t even seem to notice them. He only had eyes for Cove.

  “Jonas,” Cove said, moving forward.

  “I know, I know,” he said, holding up his hands. “But we have trouble. It’s Dr. Newell. They’re going to hang him.”

  ***

  “Tell me what happened,” said Cove as he moved from the study, directing Jonas to turn around. The others followed him into the foyer.

  “There’s a mob in the courtyard. They have Dr. Newell and five bodies that were found in his office.”

  “Who is they?”

  Jonas hesitated. “I’m not sure who all is involved, but Ben Willow is leading it. Seems one of his men fell ill at the ball, and when he took him to John, they discovered the bodies.”

  “Nob, get the carriage ready,” said Cove. “Jonas, I need you to get as many of our men down there as possible.”

  “Cove, you can’t go down there. You were just shot!” Hollow protested.

  “I can’t let them hang John for something I did,” he said.

  “Then they’ll hang you! What sort of explanation can you give for bringing five dead men to Arcarum?”

  “I’ll think of something,” he replied as he moved out the door. He didn’t bother to take a coat. Hollow followed him out, but the pirates had to stay. They had no choice. The carriage rambled up the driveway and Cove and Hollow hurried toward it. It had barely stopped when they leapt inside and urged Nob toward the courtyard at the center of town.

  Cove clutched at his side as the carriage rattled hard over the cobbles. The streets of Arcarum were narrow and moved in a slow spiral toward the center of town where the gallows were ever-present.

  Cove felt heat rush over his skin as he thought of how stupid he’d been. He wasn’t surprised this was happening. Ben was bold and he had reason to be confident. He’d watched as Cove was shot hours earlier and probably supposed him to be incapacitated. He’d also been watching him over the last several weeks. He’d seen Cove at Dr. Newell’s office in the dead of night. When Ben had called him out at the courthouse the other day, he should have had the bodies moved. This was the price he’d pay for underestimating Ben Willow.

  Cove saw the torchlight first, scattered across the landscape, then he heard the cries and clamor. Several people crowded into the courtyard, others looked down from their windows far above, but they all joined in to rise in discord and demand justice for the display before them. And a display it was. Five bodies hung by the neck upon the gallows that rose like a dark shadow at the very center of the yard. The bodies had been frightening when Cove first found them, but now, between their wounds and the decay, they were horrific. Before the bodies stood Ben Willow and at his feet was Dr. Newell, who rested on his knees, bent over at his waist as if he’d been hit. His thinning gray hair fell over his face, hiding it from view.

  “Stop the carriage!” Cove ordered as they came upon the mob. Cove climbed out of the carriage followed by Hollow. They stood for a moment, only a few feet from the crowd. He could feel the hostility in the air and it sprouted from one thing, fear.

  He scanned the crowd. It took a moment, but his eyes finally found the men and women he had been searching for. Jonas had succeeded; members of his crew and network stood at the brink of the throng, waiting. Ainsley, Ean, Maddox, Sayida, and Jeanna. They all nodded, and as Cove made the first break in the crowd, they followed.

  There was resistance at first, and the wave of the crowd made him dizzy. There was nothing calm or nice about how Cove moved through the bodies, elbowing, thrashing, demanding entrance. And soon there was no struggle, for the men and women began to move aside, creating a path for him. He walked forward, drawing closer to the gallows. Silence descended, and now Cove could hear Ben’s voice.

  “If you refuse to speak of what befell these men, how are we to believe you aren’t responsible for their deaths?”

  He had not yet realized why the crowd had suddenly gone so quiet. Ben bent to grab a handful of Doctor Newell’s hair, forcing his head back so that his neck was exposed. Cove saw that the old man’s face was bruised and bloodied. A dagger flashed in Ben’s hand, and panic overtook Cove. He broke through the front of the crowd.

  “This is madness!” the ambassador seethed. “Stop! I demand you stop!”

  Ben straightened, letting go of Dr. Newell, who sagged to the floor of the gallows with exhaustion.

  “Ambassador Rowell,” Ben drawled. He didn’t seem surprised to see Cove here. “You would halt the punishment of a man who has killed five men?”

  The crowd reacted, shouting and throwing garbage at the stage, intent on hitting Dr. Newell. Cove moved, holding his side. His skin felt clammy and he was dizzy, but he maintained his focus. “Has this man had a trial? Has he been convicted of murder?” the ambassador challenged.

  “This is all the jury Dr. Newell needs, and they have declared his guilt!”

  The crowd cheered and the fire of the torches in the crowd swayed with agreement.

  “What is going on here?” the voice boomed, but not in its normally cheerful manner. It was Matthew Dulcemer, the governor of Arcarum. The crowd parted even further for his large form.

  “Governor,” said Ben stepping forward.

  “Is this your crowd, Mr. Willow?”

  The man hesitated. “They’re here for answers, Governor. These men were found in Dr. Newell’s office. You will see that their wounds are…rather unnatural.”

  The governor’s eyes moved to the men for a moment, and he studied them. Then his eyes slid back to Ben. “What is to fear of a dead man?”

  Ben set his jaw. “And what of you, ambassador? Can you argue with the men behind you? Surely even you must agree that such an evil must be stopped.”

  “I do agree,” said Cove. “Which is why I brought the bodies to Dr. Newell in the first place.”

  Ben smiled, his eyes alight with pleasure. Gasps escaped from the crowd. The air around them was thick with the smell of rain, and lightning began to flash in the sky. Cove wanted it to pour and douse the sick flames that had begun this panic.

  “Say that again,” Ben demanded.

  “He said,” Matthew’s voice boomed. “That Dr. Newell was only doing what he was instructed, and you, Mr. Willow, should also know that I was aware of this agreement.”

  Cove was careful not to look surprised, but he felt it. Matthew had not been aware of such a thing.

  Ben narrowed his eyes. “Why keep this a secret? Did you not feel the people of Arcarum had a right to know about this?” Some voices rose in agreement.

  “The men were not found in Arcarum. They were found at sea,” said Cove. “Besides, we cannot infer anything from what we have here, and we should not spread fear needlessly.”

  “But this is to be feared!” Ben argued, pointing at the men. “This is fear!”

  “The only thing I see to be feared here is your disregard for what is right,” said Matthew. Ben didn’t look at Matthew. His eyes were on Cove, menacing and dark. Cove stepped forward to help Dr. Newell to his feet. He took a knife from his boot and cut the bonds from the doctor’s hands.

  “Are you okay, John?”

  “Yes,” he wheezed, leaning into Cove. “Thank you.”

  “You’re bleeding, ambassador,” Ben said. Cove didn’t look at his shirt. He still felt lightheaded from the wound.

  Matthew’s voice rose. “Go to your homes! You should all be ashamed!”

  The crowd broke away slowly, and Cove helped Dr. Newell down from the gallows. Those who had come with Cove wandered to him.

>   “Take the bodies to the church. Alaster will know what to do,” he ordered. As they obeyed, Ben’s voice rose, catching the attention of those who remained in the courtyard.

  “These are the bodies of pirates, are they not, ambassador?”

  Cove paused and turned with Dr. Newell. “If they swore by the mark, we will never know,” he said. And they wouldn’t. The wound over their hearts had erased any traces of the tattoo. “We cannot make assumptions about things we do not know…that’s how people die.”

  And he meant that as a threat.

  Then he turned, moving past what remained of the crowd. He felt Matthew following close behind, like a thought he didn’t want to recall. Matthew was reminding Cove that he still wanted answers.

  As Cove helped Dr. Newell onto the carriage, he turned to face Matthew. The governor didn’t look severe, but he didn’t look jolly either. No, the look in his eyes made Cove’s chest tighten up. It was a mix of fear and sadness. This was what it was like to be on the brink of losing.

  “I expect a visit,” said Matthew. “And soon.”

  Cove nodded, and while he was indebted to Matthew for what he’d done, he knew there was a profound change between them. Tonight had ensured that a seed had been planted in Matthew, in the people of Arcarum. Cove Rowell was not to be trusted.

  Barren studied the old man sitting in one of Cove’s padded chairs, face bruised and bloodied. He’d heard his name a lot over the past few days—Dr. John Newell. He looked educated, with half-moon glasses perched upon the bridge of his large nose, a straight set to his shoulders, his head tilted slightly upward. But there was also something firm and rough about him. Maybe it was the way he had handled the beating he’d taken. Barren was more intrigued by the fact that the man hadn’t once looked his way.

  “I’m a doctor,” the man was saying. “I can dress my own wounds.”

  “It’s better that you rest,” said Cove. “Besides, I’m sure Leaf has faster medicine for you.”

  “Just because his medicine is faster, doesn’t mean it’s better,” he replied.

  Leaf stood with his arms crossed, the look on his face passive. “You can have my help or not. It’s your face.”