“Why does it matter to you?” Yanko couldn’t imagine her wanting to settle down on some remote continent—or anywhere.
She rolled her eyes and made a scoffing noise. No, she wasn’t interested, but maybe some of her people were? They might be sick of perennially roaming the seas and want a safe place to come home to.
“Some of your people are interested?” he guessed.
“Gramon,” she said dryly. “And others, yes. For the others, I would tell them to simply leave and find their own way into your entourage if that’s what they wish. But Gramon has served me well over the years. We’ve had a few altercations, but I’ve recently come to realize…” She shrugged. “He means something to me. If he wants to retire on an ugly lump of land and open up a smithy, then I won’t stop him.”
A smithy? Yanko had no trouble imagining the muscled Turgonian wielding a huge metalworking hammer, but it was strange to think that a pirate might have such simple dreams for retirement. He’d always assumed they all wanted great wealth so they could buy their own private islands. Maybe they did when they got started, but time tempered expectations, and in the end, they realized they would have been better off if they’d never become pirates. Was that why his offer had proved more effective than he’d expected?
“And—” Pey Lu leaned closer to the orb, “—if you intend to take the dais, I already told you that I would help.”
Yanko glanced toward the door, afraid his comrades would overhear her words. She was going to get him in trouble if she kept bringing this up and they started to believe he truly wished the position. But the door was shut. Whatever he said ought to stay between them.
“Why?” he asked, playing along to give himself time to think. “What would you want if I did?”
A part of him wondered if he should let her believe that he planned to use Zirabo and his resources to his own ends, but his honor shrank into a tiny wilted ball at the idea of lying about something so big. And who knew if she—or Gramon, who might be standing just out of view of the communications orb—would gossip and the word would reach Zirabo? The last thing Yanko wanted was for the prince to stop trusting him.
Pey Lu chuckled. “Only the delicious irony of having one of my sons, those who were deemed dishonored by the old Great Chief because of my actions, take the dais for himself.” Her mirth turned to a sneer. “I would love to stab a dagger into the jugular of the old system and all those pompous asses who trained me to be their little killer, then cast me aside when they no longer had a use for me.” She gazed straight into the orb, but she didn’t seem to be seeing Yanko.
When her eyes refocused, he opened his mouth to admit that he planned nothing more than to help Zirabo acquire the dais for whoever his candidate was, and hope they would help Yanko deliver on the promises he’d made. But she spoke first.
“We will join you, Yanko. For the same deal you gave the others. Not all of my people want to become smiths and farmers—” she sneered again, “—but they would all take land that might grow in value and that they could one day sell. And I will assist you if you promise to grant me, not a pardon, but a temporary abeyance so that I can walk into the Great City and see you on the dais on the day the priest puts the wreath on your head.”
“Mother, I am not going to betray Zirabo. I would love your help, but I’m only going to assist him.”
“Of course, Yanko.” Her eyes glinted, as if they shared some unspoken understanding. “Of course.”
The communications orb went dark as she cut the link.
Yanko stared at the gray sphere and mumbled, “What just happened?”
Steel clashed as scimitar met cutlass on the deck of the yacht, the noise of the sparring match drowning out the roar of the sea. It almost drowned out the sound of heavy breaths rasping in Yanko’s throat. He couldn’t keep going for much longer. How was he going to help Zirabo and his army fight in huge battles? If he had to use the blade, he would be in trouble.
Kei squawked from a nearby perch. It wasn’t clear if he was complaining about the noise or enjoying the sun on his feathers. His sounds of contentment weren’t a lot different from his squawks of complaint.
“Need… break,” Yanko panted, stepping back and trying to disengage from Dak.
Dak lowered his cutlass without any comments about how they’d barely warmed up. His face gleamed with sweat, and he was breathing hard too.
“Did we make it more than two minutes this time?” Dak asked Tynlee, who was pretending not to watch from the railing.
“Nearly three, I believe,” she said, her dimples appearing as she smiled.
Dak made a disgusted noise and wiped his brow. He had been sicker than Yanko when they’d been at their worst, so Yanko would expect him to take longer to recover. Dak should be patient with himself, but he mostly appeared annoyed at not being superhuman.
“We’ll go again in five minutes,” Dak said. “I don’t see how I’m going to avoid being embroiled in some conflict or another if I step foot on Nurian soil and go with you to join Zirabo.”
“Is that still your mission?” Yanko knew he had orders to support Zirabo, but he didn’t think those orders extended to Dak marching into battle.
Before Dak could answer, Tynlee called, “Yanko?” and waved for him to come over.
Secretly relieved for a chance to extend his break, Yanko joined her at the railing.
“Is it my imagination, or are there more pirate ships following us than before?” she asked.
“There probably are.” Yanko hadn’t shared the details of his chat with his mother the day before, partially because it had unnerved him, and partially because he hadn’t wanted to explain why she might show up.
“If this many pirate ships were sailing this close to the Turgonian coast,” Dak said, joining them, “it would be seen as an act of war, and warships would be deployed to deal with them.”
Yanko grimaced. “I suspect Nuria’s warships are too busy battling each other to notice.”
“That’s Pey Lu’s flagship,” Dak noted after a minute.
“Nothing wrong with your remaining eye,” Yanko murmured.
He could barely pick out her black vessel in the distance. It and her fleet’s other vessels were sailing farther out than the privateers. Yanko hoped Pey Lu or her mages were communicating with the other fleet’s mages and that they knew they were on the same side right now.
Tynlee and Dak regarded Yanko with raised eyebrows.
“She said her fleet might join us, at least insofar as sailing into the harbor in the Great City and looking intimidating. I’m skeptical that any of the pirates will actually fight for Zirabo.”
“And she’s doing this in exchange for what?” Dak asked suspiciously.
“She heard someone is offering land and pardons,” Yanko said.
Dak’s eye narrowed.
Yanko shrugged. “Apparently, Gramon and some of her people are interested.”
“Gramon?” Tynlee asked.
“Her Turgonian lover.”
“Ah yes,” Tynlee said, “everyone should have one of those.”
Yanko couldn’t keep from choking a little.
Tynlee smiled serenely. Dak turned his squinty eye on her. It didn’t faze her in the least.
“She has to want something else,” Dak said. “I don’t believe she wants a pardon or cares about land.”
Yanko wished Dak weren’t quite so perceptive.
“Yellow Delta ahead,” called the first mate from the wheel.
Yanko pretended great interest in their destination, so he wouldn’t have to address Dak’s speculation. He was aware, however, of Dak watching him.
“It’s quiet,” Tynlee murmured, her eyes glazed.
“The city?” Yanko reached out with his senses.
He hadn’t been delighted when Zirabo named this as their meeting spot and would have preferred sailing straight to the Great City, but he assumed Zirabo wanted his arrival to be a surprise and en masse, not for his allies to s
traggle onto the battlefield piece by piece
“Yes,” Tynlee said. “There should be fishermen out, activity at the docks. I assume Zirabo wouldn’t have had any reason to curtail the daily civilian activities once he had the city.”
Now that she mentioned it, Yanko could tell how devoid of life the beaches and docks were. He sensed people in the buildings and homes farther back from the waterfront. Many of them were armed and watching out their windows. Expecting trouble? The streets were empty, other than a few patrols here and there.
People that Zirabo had appointed to keep the peace? Or watchmen with magic detectors? No, the freed moksu prisoners had taken the city only a couple of weeks earlier. How much could have changed since then?
“That flag is back up,” Dak said as soon as their yacht sailed around a point, and the river and the docks came into view.
Yanko’s stomach sank. It was the red flag of the Swift Wolves. He’d witnessed Zirabo’s people tearing that down.
“Do we sail in?” Tynlee asked with uncertainty.
A handful of ships were docked in the harbor, but less than half the number that had been there on Yanko’s previous visits. He glanced toward the pirate ships sailing right behind them. He’d told them they wouldn’t need to do more than loom, and not even that until they reached the capital. Would they be willing to help here?
“Yes,” Yanko said. “If something has happened, we’ll deal with it.”
Dak arched his eyebrows. “Deal with it? Retake the city?”
“If need be. Zirabo is coming back here to meet us. I’m surprised he’s not here already. If that faction regained the city while he was off collecting more troops and military officers, he could walk his people into a trap.”
“When was the last time you spoke with him, Yanko?” Tynlee asked. “Is it possible that’s already happened?”
“No,” Yanko said firmly, though he didn’t know, not truly. But Zirabo couldn’t have fallen. Yanko wouldn’t know how to go forward if he had. “No,” he repeated more softly.
Dak and Tynlee exchanged long looks.
The yacht sailed toward the dock. Yanko sensed people watching from the alleys between buildings, but no watchmen rushed out to confront them. Still, that ominous red flag flapped in the sea breeze.
The crew waited a few moments before securing the yacht. When nobody rushed out to confront them, and when numerous cannon-bearing pirate ships sailed into the harbor behind them, they grew more confident. Soon, the gangplank was lowered, leaving Yanko and friends the option of heading into the city if they wished.
Yanko scratched his jaw. Did he wish? Zirabo had said to meet in the city, but he hadn’t specified any particular part.
Yanko closed his eyes and tried to sense farther into Yellow Delta, seeking Zirabo’s familiar aura. It was difficult to pick out a single person in such a populous area, but after several minutes, he didn’t find Zirabo. He tried to stretch farther, to the highway leading out of town on the far side, a cobblestone route that followed the river inland before turning north toward the Great City. But nobody was traveling on the highway or the waterway this day.
A woman’s scream came from a building near the waterfront, and Yanko jerked his eyes open. He couldn’t see her, but he found her quickly with his senses. The woman ran through an abandoned street with two men chasing her, men armed with swords and bows.
“It’s a trap!” she screamed, the words barely reaching them.
The men gained on her, raising their weapons.
She had to be nearly a half a mile away, but Yanko did his best to channel the wind over there, to knock the men back. They stumbled, pitching against the walls. She glanced back and kept running.
Out here, Yanko spoke into her mind. On the dock. We’ll protect you.
He sensed her alarm at the telepathic communication, but she sprinted toward the waterfront street.
One of the guards recovered and lifted his bow, aiming between her shoulder blades. Yanko created a barrier around her. It was more difficult to work his magic from afar, but he managed. An arrow bounced off the shield and clattered to the cobblestones. Whoever she was, those men were genuinely trying to kill her.
More arrows zipped toward her, the two men giving chase and firing as they ran. Yanko gritted his teeth and knocked them on their butts with raw power. One struck the side of an adobe building hard enough to break his bow. Good. Yanko was tempted to break their skulls, but he didn’t know yet if the woman was a friend or an enemy. Whatever she was, it irked him that they were ganging up and trying to kill her.
When she raced into sight, Dak jumped onto the gangplank with his cutlass, looking like he might sprint into the city to deal with whoever wanted to hurt her.
“I’m protecting her,” Yanko called to him.
If there truly was a trap, the last thing Yanko wanted was for Dak to rush into the middle of it.
“I recognize her from the island,” Dak called to him. “She’s one of your rescued people.”
Yanko clenched his fist, relieved that he’d helped.
The woman ran toward them, sandals slapping on the dock boards. By the time she reached the yacht, sweat drenched her face, and she was panting. Her eyes widened when she spotted Dak, and she lurched to a stop.
Yanko ran onto the gangplank beside him and pushed Dak’s sword arm down. He still gripped his cutlass and appeared ready to lop off heads.
“You’re supposed to save that look for our enemies, not our allies,” Yanko said, then waved for the woman to approach.
She edged around Dak, who complied by lowering his sword and saving his glower for anyone looking his way from the waterfront buildings, and lunged into Yanko’s arms.
He was so surprised when she gripped him and bawled against his shoulder that he almost fell off the gangplank. She started speaking with her face buried in his robe, and he barely understood half of it. He used his mental senses to augment his understanding—and determine if she was telling the truth or if this was part of some ruse. What if someone had forced her to rush out here and deliver false information?
But no, he sensed genuine terror and that her last week had been horrible, tied up in a basement with a number of the other people that Zirabo had left to guard the city after the main force moved out. Unfortunately, the Swift Wolves had learned that they’d lost the city quickly and had returned with greater numbers to retake it. And they’d guessed that Zirabo might send people to try to take it back and had been lying in wait near the waterfront and also near the highway on the far side, ready to attack whoever approached. They’d heard of Yanko and actually hoped he would come so that they could capture him and drop his head on their leader General Tang Chu’s camp desk.
“Uh,” Yanko said, alarmed at the vision—and that Tang Chu knew who he was.
“Can you understand her better than I can?” Dak gazed down at the woman with a furrowed brow. “My Nurian isn’t up to the task of deciphering that.”
“Only with help,” Yanko admitted and gently gripped the woman’s arms, trying to ease her back a few inches, if only so they had a better chance of understanding her. “It’ll be all right.” He smiled and tried to sound soothing, though he wasn’t used to anyone turning to him for comfort. “What’s your name? I’m Yanko.”
“Ayta.” She wiped her eyes. “And I know. I saw you on the island. We all did.” She glanced uncertainly at Dak.
Maybe that meant she remembered seeing him too. She just wasn’t convinced that he was on her side.
Dak looked back toward the waterfront, as if he expected her pursuers at any second. Yanko could sense men hiding in an alley and peering out. They pointed at the yacht and then, with more frantic gestures, pointed at the pirate ships. None of them had come in to dock yet, but more than two dozen were in view, anchored beyond the breaking waves.
“Am I right in guessing that someone would already be attacking us if we hadn’t shown up with reinforcements?” Yanko asked.
�
�Those are pirate ships, aren’t they?” Ayta whispered.
“Yes, but they’re working for me currently.” Sort of, Yanko amended silently.
She turned round, impressed eyes on him.
“It’s a long story. We’re here to reinforce Zirabo.”
“He’s been gone for two weeks. We failed him.” Her face was in danger of crumpling, and she eyed his shoulder again. “Jai Gook said he should have left more people, but we are moksu. We should have been able to handle them. But they had two mages, and all we had was—”
“Down,” Dak barked and grabbed their shoulders, pushing them to their knees.
A thin metal canister blurred through the air toward the yacht. Yanko erected a hasty barrier a split second before it would have landed on the deck. It bounced off and exploded with a boom and a blast of orange flames.
“If we were in Turgonia, I’d say that was sent by a grenade launcher,” Dak said. “Here, I suppose it was some magical artillery weapon.”
“I didn’t sense magic,” Yanko said.
“The Swift Wolves have some Turgonian weapons,” Ayta said. “That’s one of the reasons they outmaneuvered us so easily.”
It seems you’re not welcome, a voice spoke into Yanko’s mind. Pey Lu. Do you want some assistance?
Yanko frowned. Did he? If the entire city had been taken, he and Dak and Jhali wouldn’t be enough of a force to retake it.
Yes, he replied, though he worried what the price might be. What would happen when his mother realized he’d never had any intention of trying to take the dais for himself? He was still flabbergasted that she even thought that was a possibility.
I will send some of my people who are eager to prove themselves worthy of free land. Her voice was as dry as ever.
Yanko didn’t care. Thank you.
“Thank you for the warning, Ayta,” Yanko said aloud. “We will retake the city, and once it’s ours again, we’ll make sure to leave a sufficient force to guard it.”
“We’re going to retake it?” Dak looked at Yanko for a long moment and then shifted his gaze toward the fleet. The first couple of ships were veering toward the dock. “You told the pirates to come?”
Great Chief (Chains of Honor, Book 4) Page 20