by T B Phillips
Her body pressed harder against his, her firm breasts exposed against his bare chest as they slipped from her half-unbuttoned blouse. His arms held her warm body and his mouth searched for hers, her soft supple lips dancing and teasing his own. His body pulsed with blood as he felt her hips press into his, rubbing slightly with pressure. After they had pulled away, she whispered, “I wish that you were not leaving me, Braen.”
“I have to go, Hester. Father is taking us raiding in Loganshire at a place called Brentway. He said that we’re to become men.”
Smiling, she reached her hand down and grabbed ahold of his pulsing manhood. “You’re more than man enough now, Braen.”
He laughed and kissed her again, rolling her over on her back as he did. She nodded and shyly smiled her consent. He fumbled at the buttons of his breeches, hurrying to finish the task before they changed their minds. The two made love in the meadow amidst the tulips, creating a memory they would carry their entire lives. After they had finished, they napped in a lover’s embrace, steamy bodies cooled by the spring wind and the scent of lilac.
Chapter Forty-Two
Eusari had lain in her stateroom and cried the entire voyage to Middleton. Peter Longshanks had tried several times to check on her, mostly to ensure she was eating. She never once opened the door to speak with him. She had asked not to be disturbed on the voyage, but was thankful that he loved her enough to check. She had Gelert, and that was the only friend she wanted during her misery.
The wolf lay beside her on the bed, facing the door. Her face was buried in his fur, wet from her tears. “I shouldn’t have left, but I couldn’t bear to see his reaction when he arrived.” Gelert let out a soft whine of understanding. “What have I done?”
She raised her head at a knock as Peter’s voice called through the wood. “We’re arriving in the bay, Captain. You’ve got about thirty minutes, is all.”
“Thank you, Peter.” There was a time in her life when she would never have spoken those words. Life had groomed her hard demeanor and only depended on herself for too long. Meeting and falling in love with Braen had taught her so much more regarding herself and about life. To Gelert she whispered, “He taught me how to love and be thankful. I want so badly to trust him right now, but I’m so afraid that he’ll choose her over me.” I’m so stupid, she thought, I knew he’d eventually hurt me, and I never should have let him in.
Her thoughts turned to that fateful night on She Wolf when she had violated and beat Braen unconscious. I was so wicked before, until he taught me how to love. “How can he be so full of forgiveness to everyone? Even if he chooses her, I know that I should forgive him and move on, but I can’t. Not with all the changes in our lives.” The wolf whined again and nudged her belly with his muzzle. “I don’t know what to do.”
Another knock on the door informed Eusari that they needed her topside. She dried her eyes and pulled a cloak over her shoulders. The hood completely covered her face. When she emerged, she walked up on Peter and Devil Jacque in a heated argument. “What’s the trouble, boys?”
Longshanks tried to make light of the conversation. “Nothing, Captain. We’re merely disagreeing about our role.”
“What about your role? You’ll all stay aboard while I infiltrate and work the city until he arrives.”
Jacque interrupted, “Captain, with all respect, you’ve trained us to fight and that’s what we want to do. Many of us wish we were getting some action and plunder.”
Eusari pulled a knife from her sleeve and toyed with it, cleaning her nails. In a low rumble she purred, “It seems that you’ve been questioning a lot lately, Jacque. Can I count on you or not?”
He stepped back, eyes on the knife, and answered, “Of course you can, Mum. I only ask that you allow me to accompany you in town. You’ve trained us well, and you’ll need a partner if something goes wrong.”
“I have Gelert.”
“With all due respect, Mum, you need a partner who blends in slightly better with the city folk.”
Eusari mulled his words carefully and found wisdom. “It’s true that movement through the city would be easier in a disguise rather than shadow. You may come.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“Then it’s settled.” She slipped the knife back into its hiding spot and got down to business. She pointed around at the scenery. “Middleton is situated on a series of inlets and bays. The primary entrance is heavily guarded. Once we slip in, we will have to hide She Wolf in a spot that can egress without difficulty, as well as avoid Skander’s attention when he arrives.”
Peter frowned. “That’s a tall order, Mum. Where do you suggest?”
She pulled out a chart and pointed at a tiny cove nearby the financial district. “I think we should situate here.”
He nodded his approval. “Because when Skander makes his attack he’ll pick a spot close to the plunder?”
“Exactly. He’ll also want to remain near the entrance of the bay in case something goes wrong.” She paused, remembering the night in Estowen’s Landing when Marcus’ men killed Sa’Mond. At the time, she had believed her world destroyed, only later to learn that it had grown vast around her. “Hear me now when I tell you that Skander Braston is a coward. He attacks the weak and flees at first hint of trouble.”
“But Middleton isn’t weak, Captain. Middleton would be difficult to take, even with King Robert’s and Shon’s combined forces and the Kraken’s sea power.”
“I know, and that’s what troubles me.” She gave Gelert a scratch behind his ears to calm herself more than him, then added, “I don’t think he’s here to conquer. He’s here to raid and send a message to Braen.” She again fell silent, ending the conversation and turning her back on the two men.
The city sprawled before Eusari, so large and spread out. He’s here for something specific. Whatever could he need or want? Her eyes scanned the buildings for a clue but finally gave up and went below to change her attire. If she were to walk the city streets she would need to fit into the crowd.
A few hours later, she walked the city with Devil Jacque at her side. They were dressed like a merchant and his wife, out for an evening stroll. They made small talk as they meandered through the streets, Eusari often complaining about the ruffle of the skirt. “I can’t move silently with this crap on. I sound like crushed wrapping paper when I move.”
“Aye, and this jacket restricts my arms. I should have worn a vest.”
She looked up at her crewman. “Jacque, what’s really going on? You’ve been so bitter and openly showing disdain for my decisions. Are you unhappy on my crew?”
“No, Mum. It’s not that, at all.”
“Then what? Tell me.”
The tall pirate, not near as articulate as Peter Longshanks, grew quiet as he searched for the words. “I’m craving the action. It’s literally the only outlet I have.”
“What else troubles you?”
“I can’t tell you, that, Mum.”
“Please stop calling me ‘Mum.’ When we’re alone you may use my name.”
“Eusari.” She watched him closely when he spoke the word aloud. He resembled a child tasting new candy, eager to try it, but wary of the taste. “I’ve got a bit of a crush on you, always have. Before I was afraid to approach because of Sa’Mond, he’d have taken my jewels and fed them to a shark if I’d tried.”
“And now?”
“Braston’s a difficult man to best in any contest, much less a duel over a lady’s affections.”
Eusari felt a laugh slip out at the thought, then quickly grew grim at the thought of Braen alone with Hester. “Well, it wouldn’t have worked anyway. You’re on my crew and I don’t fraternize with my cohort.”
“Then I’ll leave your crew and switch to another vessel, Mum.”
“No need for drastic measures, Jacque.” She decided to let him down easy. “We’re
friends and that’s the extent of our relationship.”
“Even if Braston were out of the picture?”
She nodded, “Even then. I’m not looking for a harbor to drop my anchor in permanently.” They walked along and quickly reached the financial district. Eusari pointed at a large building with several soldiers milling about. “There’s the bank and city vault.”
“It’s impenetrable.”
“Aye. He’d need cannons to get inside.” She looked around, “Where do you think the armory is? That’s where he’s likely to hit as well.”
“I remember the map showing it closer to the shore battery.”
“Then let’s head that way.” As they walked, she thought about their own raid on Diaph months before. One of their chief targets was the armory and looted it quickly. The only surprise of that night had been the Rookery and the people within. She remembered the glowing tubes in the ceiling and the naked bodies laid out on stone slabs. The tubing running in and out of every orifice made her sick, even to this day. She hated slavery in every form and fashion, but the act of farming people for powers was most despicable.
“What did Shon’s dispatch say about Skander’s raid on Diaph?”“What do you mean?”
“I remember reading that the city had been burned after Skander found the armory empty.”
“Aye, that’s what I recall. That seemed like a waste of time, to me. Why would anyone take the time to raze an entire city that’s already been plundered?”
“Usually to cover something up.” She focused on that detail. What would Skander have found in Diaph that he would want to cover his tracks? She mentally checked the jail and armory off the list. The batteries were also useless to him. She stopped in her tracks when they rounded a corner, suddenly standing before a simple stone building that looked odd against the rest of the city architecture. The structure lacked adornment and two Falconers stood in the doorway speaking with a constable. Eusari felt her dinner rise into her throat. “Jacque, he would have also found the Rookery.”
She abruptly pulled her crewman into an alleyway. Devil Jacque’s eyes were wide with questions and asked, “What? What is it that you’re afraid of?”
“We need to get back to She Wolf straight away. If he found the Rookery, then he found the emotants inside!” She gestured toward the building across the street with fear in her eyes. “He’s not here to raid, he’s here to gather more!”
All of a sudden, horns sounded throughout the city, announcing invaders in the harbor. Skander Braston had arrived.
Middleton loomed in the distance but Skander focused on the knife in his hand. He held the tip against the hard wood of the rail and carefully scored a deep line. Not satisfied with the groove, he tried a different angle, cutting across the first. He frowned at his work and sighed, but a glance at the city ahead slightly comforted his mood. Flesh was much more satisfying to carve.
Artur’s voice broke his concentration, “Sails!”
Skander turned to the gathering behind him. Each was eager to hear their father speak. “Behold the city that conspired against you, my children.” The Sabre Cats swayed collectively, humming with eyes closed and focused on the air over Middleton. The sails on the incoming vessels fell limp, impotent and lifeless as the warships drifted without a current. The stolen wind gathered into a visible vortex above the harbor, swirling and raging.
The skies above darkened instantly, turning the whirlwind black. An electrical storm raged within the massive spiral, barely able to contain the current. Everyone within miles felt hair stand up on end as city dwellers stepped outside to investigate the phenomenon. Then the northern king added his own theatrics. The people of the city stared and called out in alarm, unable to turn away their collective gaze.
All at once, the Braston sigil burned brightly. Skander had warned his crew, who averted their eyes unlike the unfortunate citizens watching in awe. The retinas of those looking on were burned instantly, the image permanently fused in their vision. Cries of pain clashed against the sound of the storm, a churning roar that rattled shutters and shattered glass. Above it, all could clearly hear the wails of an infant.
When the vortex split into a hundred tornados the crews of his armada gasped in awe. The electrically charged demons fanned out into the city, lighting rooftops afire and inciting panic in the streets. Everywhere the blind fumbled in darkness as they found themselves unable to flee. Many collapsed in heaps as loved ones raced from their homes, desperately trying to bring them inside. Then Skander released his army.
Chapter Forty-Three
The streets of Weston had been wrapped in eerie calm all evening, but storms often followed tranquility. Percy Roan hurried through the empty streets with eyes darting back and forth. He was early for his meeting, but rushed to outrun a growing anxiety. Since the riot, he rarely went out at night, a new habit adopted by most of the people of Weston. Heightened paranoia created images of buckskin-clad warriors leaping from shadows, and even the most rational of city-dwellers questioned their safety.
When he reached the palace, he breathed a sigh of relief and gathered his nerves before making the journey up several flights of stairs. He found Eachann atop the highest tower, standing next to a roaring fireplace and watching the city below. His focused attention fully rested on the Pescari district. The refugees had been isolated for more than a week, but stood as defiant as before. Surely, they would soon acquiesce to the governor’s demands.
Percy watched the lawmaker with growing concern. Politicians often changed platforms, but this sudden switch in policy confused the accountant. The decision to go after the Pescari weapons made sense, but the way he went about it seemed provoking. It almost appeared that the man, prized for his humanitarianism, planned the uprising. There must be intervention by another party, he mused, a wealthy and more powerful investor.
“Spit it out, Percy.” The politician turned to his friend with expectant eyes.
“You knew this would happen?”
“A Pescari uprising? I thought it a possibility.”
“That’s why you picked the lower district,” Roan mused, “you were able to trap them at the first sign of trouble.” He scratched his chin for a bit then asked, “You intentionally provoked them by taking their weapons?”
“The Esterling boy and Horslei were right about these savages, Percy. You saw the damage that boy wrought on Weston the night they arrived.” He pointed at the sector below. “And now at least one more of them has the same power.”
“Where’s the boy named Taros? How do you know he won’t return to free his people, Cassus?”
“Right now?” The city leader smiled proudly, “He’s trapped hundreds of feet below ground, completely separated from open flame and slowly running out of air to breathe. He’s trapped.”
“It sounds to me like you want them all to die. Each and every one. Him by suffocation and them by starvation.”
“If they do, the blame won’t be mine. The people of Weston will believe that I tried everything in my power to make this cohabitation work, but the nature of the Pescari ruined it.”
“And you’re once again the savior of Weston who has united both the war hawks and the humanitarians.” Percy felt bile rise from his belly but forced it down. Stealing from the wealthy rested fine on his conscience, but these people were helpless. After he had collected himself, he got down to more business-like questions. “Why did we invest so much in the infrastructure if this was an elaborate scheme for genocide?” Without waiting for an answer, he added, “And why didn’t you tell me your plan?”
“Because you wouldn’t have understood. There are forces at play that make us look like fleas on a dog, Percy.” The governor grew quiet, chewing on his own words for a while before adding, “The best we can do is take pride in the contracts we’ve issued, and trust that after the Falconers cleanse the city we can rebuild.”
“You made a deal with the Falconers?”
Eachann’s stoic expression reacted at the mention of the specters, but quickly recovered. “After the Pescari are gone we’ll restore the sector to its original glory. Perhaps it’ll become the center of high society?”
Roan digested his friend’s words, sickened that their entire constituency had eagerly lapped up his lies. He tried to reason excuses for his friend’s behavior. We really are powerless to the Falconers, he thought, how could he have refused them? He almost told that to Cassus, to let him know that he understood, but Eachann enjoyed the misery below.
Percy considered his options. If he left now, he had enough wealth to build a plantation on the southern continent. If he stayed north, he could curry favor with whichever of the Esterling brothers won out. He may even find a way to grasp political power in one of the other cities. Soston sounds nice, he thought, but so does Middleton.
A messenger burst into the room, panting and out of breath. “Your Lordship!”
“What is it?” Eachann replied, lighting a southern cigar with a coal from the fireplace.
“The Pescari are attacking a section of wall.”
The governor stood quietly, drawing shallow puffs. His face glowed an eerie red against the twilight. “It’s time. Let’s go rid the city of pests, Percy.”
Teot howled with rage as several warriors fell at his side. Their initial attack had been swift, testing the wall above the Elder’s Lodge. They had tried to use stealth and set homemade ladders against the stone, ready to sneak their way toward the Northern gate. They climbed only halfway before archers, cleverly hidden atop the walls, popped up and picked his scouts off one by one.
He had tried a technique that he learned from Taros, to burn the weapons in the air, but each hit their mark and dropped the entire first wave. He walked to a warrior and plucked an arrow, turning it over in his hands. The metal tube was unlike anything he had ever seen, shiny and silvery in appearance. Curious, he ordered another squad up the ladders and watched closely.