by Vivian Arend
“And why do you find that strange?” Azurha asked, even though her tone indicated she already knew the answer.
“The emperor said it himself—I was there for two years. Shalfak is a trading post. There are always ships docked there, either delivering goods or waiting for a shipment. The fact your source came into an empty port should have clued him in that something was wrong.”
Marcus tightened his grip on the back of the chair, his stomach knotting. This situation grew more dangerous with each new detail that came to light. “Was there anything to suggest the ships had been destroyed?”
Rufius flipped through a few more pages. “Nothing.”
“Then it means whoever attacked Shalfak probably took the ships with them.”
“Now you know why I need both of you to work on this.” Titus grabbed another scroll from his desk. “Rufius may know the town, but you know the empire’s merchants far better than anyone else, Marcus. Vibius kept his head long enough to grab the port’s log before leaving. Take a look at it and tell me if you notice anything out of the ordinary.”
This time, there was no indication that either Titus or Azurha already knew the answer. Marcus unrolled the scroll and ran down the list of the ships that had come into Shalfak the days leading up to Vibius’s arrival, where they were coming from, what they were delivering, and where they were going next. Most of the ships belonged to merchants who were active in the area. Nothing seemed amiss until he got to the last recorded ship to leave Shalfak.
The Temptress.
His breath whooshed from his lungs, and a violent wave of memories assaulted him. It had been a warm night two years ago with a clear sky full of stars. Sexta was drunk and laughing as she danced in his arms, confiding to him her dream to one day own a ship of her own so she could sail around the empire. She’d even picked out the perfect name for it—The Temptress.
He squeezed his eyes shut to purge the images from his mind. Sexta was gone.
He read the entry again, hoping he’d read it wrong. But there it was, clear as the memories that made his heart ache.
“Is something wrong?” Titus asked, his brow creased with worry.
“Maybe.” He wasn’t going to discuss the pain of his past in front of Rufius. “It looks like I need to go to Tivola, though, to gather more information.”
“Why Tivola?” Rufius shook the papers in his hand. “If we should be going anywhere, it’s Shalfak.”
“The Temptress was the last ship to leave Shalfak, and I want to question her captain to see if he noticed anything amiss. It says here that the ship was bound for Tivola next.”
“I’ll save you the trip.” Titus handed him another slip of paper. “It seems The Temptress just came into Emona this morning.”
The news left a bitter tang in his mouth. This was the ship Sexta had always wanted. Would he be able to look at it and not mourn her? “Then I’ll go down to the docks as soon as you’re finished.”
“I appreciate that.” The emperor turned to Rufius. “In the meantime, I want you to prepare The Seventh Wind for departure so that when Marcus returns, you two can leave for Shalfak.”
“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.” Rufius waited for a dismal from Titus before bowing and leaving the room.
Marcus stared at the entry one more time before rolling up the scroll. “Any word on the other ships that were still in port?”
“None so far.” Titus placed his hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “What did you see that upset you?”
He shrugged off his best friend’s hand and rose from the chair. “Who says I’m upset?”
“I know you. You’re never this quiet unless something’s wrong.”
Marcus wiped his palms on his tunic. “It’s just the name of the ship—that’s all. It’s what she would’ve named her ship if she had one.” He didn’t have to mention Sexta’s name. Titus knew which woman he was referring to.
Titus stiffened, his mouth angling down. “If you’d rather I send Rufius—”
“No, I’m fine. Besides, I want to see the son of a bitch who would name his ship that. Probably one of her former ‘clients.’” He returned the scroll to Titus and jerked his head toward Azurha. “I suppose you want this taken care of before she pops.”
“That would be ideal.” Titus wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist and placed his other hand on her stomach. “I want to make sure the empire is safe for my child.”
“What he really means is that he hopes I won’t feel the need to conceal more weapons on my body.” Azurha brushed her fingers along the neckline of her dress, revealing the hilt of the dagger hidden between her breasts.
Titus rolled his eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you that it’s not necessary?”
“And how many times do I have to tell you that old habits die hard?” She turned to Marcus. “But yes, we’d both feel better knowing the empire is safe while I give birth.”
“And how long does that give me?” He crossed his arms and eyed her belly, noting that she was carrying the child lower than the last time he’d seen her. “A week? Maybe two? Talk about a tough deadline.”
“I wouldn’t ask this of you unless I knew you could find out what happened.”
His stomach knotted again. “And what if my suspicions are correct? What if it is something like Barbarians?”
Titus’s eye twitched, a sure sign that he was forcing himself to remain calm despite the fear building inside him. “Then I need to know how they got past the barrier and stop them before another town suffers the same fate as Shalfak.”
“Then I’ll do my best to solve this riddle as quickly as possible.” He turned on his heel and headed toward the door. “Keep that kid inside until I come back, Azurha. I’ll need to be here for Titus so he doesn’t pass out when you go into labor.”
“Like that’s going to happen,” Titus shot back.
Marcus laughed as he opened the door. He’d had more than one conversation with his best friend about the weight of fatherhood, but he knew Titus’s concerns were unfounded. His friend would make an excellent father. Not like him. He wasn’t ready to be tied down to one port, not when the open skies still called to him.
But as he made his way down the corridor to the throne room, a familiar ache filled his chest. He would’ve given it all up, though, for the right woman.
Too bad she was gone.
Marcus crouched behind a wall of sacked grain and watched the ship on the other side of the pier. The Temptress was a small ship, designed more for speed than cargo. Veins of ores glistened along the hull, and her rolled-up mainsail was a deep red color instead of the standard white. This was a ship meant to be more of a noble’s plaything than an actual merchant vessel.
So what was it doing delivering a shipment of ceramics to Shalfak?
The clang of swords diverted his attention to the deck. A large Alpirion stood with his back to Marcus, blocking his view of the opponent on the opposite side. The sun flashed on the golden ring in his ear, a symbol of his freed status, and a thin sheen of sweat coated his coppery skin. His head was shaved like most Alpirion men, but that didn’t keep Marcus from sensing something vaguely familiar about him.
When he turned long enough for Marcus to catch a glimpse of his profile, he got his answer. Djer, Sexta’s former slave and bodyguard.
His breath quickened. It was far more than just a coincidence that Djer was on the ship Sexta had always wanted. Perhaps he was the owner. Perhaps he’d known of his mistress’s dream and had named the ship in honor of her.
Marcus rose from his hiding spot to get a better view of the deck, and his heart thudded to a stop.
I must be seeing a ghost.
But he couldn’t be. Ghosts didn’t handle swords that blocked their opponent’s jab or twist like a dancer to avoid the blade. Ghosts didn’t have dark auburn hair that burned like the sun just before it set over the horizon. Ghosts didn’t laugh in merriment as the fight crossed the deck.
But it wasn’t until she
spoke that he knew he wasn’t dreaming. “Enough, Djer. I give up.”
A storm of emotions flooded Marcus. Joy. Anger. Resentment. Relief. They overflowed his heart and twisted in his gut until he worried he might either vomit or punch something.
Sexta was alive.
He stumbled toward the ship like a half-drunk man, his fingers digging into his palms to revive him from the shock. Sexta was alive. All these months, she’d led him to believe she was dead. And now that he’d found her, he wasn’t leaving without answers.
He climbed the gangplank and crossed his arms. “Well, well, well, look who rose from the ashes.”
Sexta spun around, her hair whipping around her hips, and paled. “Marcus?”
“Strange seeing you again. Alive. Breathing. Not covered with a dozen burns.” He took a step toward her with each word, his muscles locked to keep him from pulling her into his arms and either shaking her or kissing her senseless. “That was quite a trick you pulled. You even had me fooled into believing you were dead.”
Her lips quivered, but she lifted her chin in the same stubborn way she always did when she was ready to dismiss him. “Then perhaps you’d be better off continuing to think that.”
“No way.” He lunged at her, refusing to let her escape now, only to have Djer block him.
Sexta dashed toward the stern-side cabin and slammed the door behind her. It wasn’t until the click of a lock filled the silence that Djer let him go.
Marcus straightened his tunic and looked the massive Alpirion in the eye, ignoring the couple of inches of height the guard had over him. “I’m not leaving until I speak to her.”
“I know.”
“So you’re not going to throw me overboard?”
“Not unless she orders me to.” He grinned, his white teeth contrasting against his dark complexion.
Marcus crossed the deck and tested the lock pad. Just as he’d expected, nothing happened. “Care to help me out here?”
Djer wedged himself between Marcus and the door. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“Well, tough. This isn’t about her. This is official imperial business.”
The Alpirion cocked a bow before stepping aside and pressing his palm against the lock pad. “If you’re lying, I’ll enjoy throwing you overboard once my lady gives the order.”
“I’m not.” He opened the door and entered the cabin.
Sexta was leaning over her desk with her back to him, her chest heaving with each breath.
Seems like I’m not the only one rattled by our reunion.
He stared at her, still fighting his feelings. He’d given his heart to her, only to have her rip it to shreds when she’d faked her death. What kind of woman would do that? Did he even know her at all? He’d spent the better part of the year grieving for her, and now that he had her back, he wasn’t sure what to do.
Focus on your mission first and deal with her later.
“Is he gone?” she asked, not turning around.
“If by ‘he’ you mean me, then no, I’m not gone.”
She turned her head to him, still clutching the desk as though it was the only thing keeping her upright. “Leave now.”
“Not until I get what I came here for.” He circled her and stood across the desk from her. “The emperor sent me to ask the captain of The Temptress a few questions. I’m assuming that’s you.”
She nodded, her blue eyes still dark with wariness.
“I figured as much.” The rest of the crew appeared to be freed Alpirions, and only those with Deizian blood could wield the magic that made airships fly. “When did you leave Shalfak?”
“What business is that of yours?”
“It’s not my business—it’s the emperor’s. When did you leave Shalfak?”
She shuffled the papers on her desk, but not before he caught a glimpse of the ship’s log underneath it. “A week ago.”
“And what were you doing there?”
“I was making a delivery.”
“Of what?”
She banged her hand on top of the stack of papers and pressed her weight on them. “That’s none of your business, and if you try to drop your best friend’s name again, then please know I’ll be happy to answer his questions if he summons me, but I don’t have to say a single word to you.”
He mirrored her posture, leaning on the desk. “I can arrange that, although I don’t think you’d like being locked up in a prison while you wait for Titus to interrogate you himself. Or better yet, have the empress interrogate you.”
Her mouth snapped shut, and some of the bravado seeped from her shoulders. Mentioning the Rabbit tended to have that effect on most people. “Why is he so interested in my ship?”
“Because this was the last recorded ship to leave Shalfak before it was attacked.”
“Attacked?” She blinked several times. “By whom?”
She was either surprised by the news or one hell of an actress. Seeing how she fooled him into believing she was dead, he’d put his money on the latter. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. So let’s start this over. What were you delivering to Shalfak?”
She pressed her lips together. A long moment of silence passed before he decided to try a different line of questioning.
“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary before you left?”
That got her to open up. She shook her head. “No, it was the same as always.”
“So you’ve been there before?”
“Yes.”
“How many times?” As far as he remembered, Sexta had never left Emona prior to the fire.
“Enough to know nothing was out of the ordinary.” She shifted her stance, but her hand never left the stack of paper covering her log book. “Now it’s your turn to answer my questions. What happened to Shalfak?”
“The emperor just got word this morning that another ship came into the port and found the city completely abandoned. Not a soul in sight. No ships, no people, no bodies, and no clue as to what happened to them.”
“That’s impossible. There had to be at least five thousand people there. They can’t all disappear in less than a week.”
“But that’s what’s been reported. I’m leaving in a few hours to see for myself, but I would appreciate any assistance you can give me in the matter, starting with a peek at your log book.”
Her chin rose again. “I’ve told you enough.”
He’d reached his limit of her stubbornness. He clamped his hand over her wrist and tried to pry it away from the book. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you knew exactly what happened in Shalfak.”
She threw more of her meager weight onto the book. “I’ve already told you—nothing was out of the ordinary.”
“Then what are you hiding from me?”
“The key to my freedom.” She snatched the book out from the pile and shoved it into the desk drawer. The click of a lock followed.
“You think that’s going to keep me from finding out what’s in that book?” He banged his fist on the desk hard enough to make the wooden top creak. “What did you deliver to Shalfak, and who was it for?”
“I think it’s time for you to leave before I have Djer escort you off the ship.”
“Don’t bother.” He straightened, staring at her as though she were an enemy instead of the woman he’d once loved. “You’ve already told me enough. Just don’t be surprised if the Legion comes to arrest you in the next few hours.”
“Thanks for the warning.” He could already see her forming an escape plan, but he was one step ahead of her.
“By the way, I’ve placed your ship on lockdown. You’re not leaving Emona until the emperor says you can, so you can forget about running away. And maybe by the time I get back, you’ll be ready to talk.”
He left the cabin and disembarked from the ship without another word. When he reached the pier, all it took was a jerk of his head to signal the soldiers he’d posted around the ship to come out of hiding and surround it. A gla
nce over his shoulder told him Sexta was watching from the doorway of her cabin. At least she would know he was serious about his threat.
He stopped by the officer in charge. “Let me know the minute she tries to leave the ship and have someone follow her.”
“Yes, sir.”
He may not have gotten the answers he wanted, but he’d scared her enough to hopefully have her lead him to the truth.
And to give him enough time to sort through his feelings before she disappeared again.
CHAPTER THREE
Sexta hugged herself and tried in vain to suppress the shudder forming at the base of her spine. It was bad enough running into Marcus again. The pain in his eyes tore at her heart like the claws of a vicious lyger. But when it was compounded by the news of Shalfak, every inch of her being went on high alert.
She didn’t miss the suspicion in his eyes as he left. He thought she was involved in what happened there. He might have even blamed her for it. And for all she knew, he might be right. She’d blindly obeyed Numicius’s orders not to snoop around the cargo he’d given her to transport. It was one of the many conditions she’d agreed to in exchange for The Temptress and the magic it possessed, and until today, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But now she was left wondering if she’d been set up to take the fall for him. It wouldn’t be the first time a man had used her.
You’d think I’d learn by now.
A knocked sounded at her door before it opened. “He’s gone now, my lady,” Djer said, the calm timbre of his voice soothing her rattled nerves.
“And the guard he threatened us with?”
“Posted around the ship.”
“How many?”
“A dozen.”
She lowered her arms. “That should be easy enough for you and the boys to take care of.”
Djer grinned. “Just give the order, and we’ll be off.”
It would be easy to run away again, to disappear on the fringes of the empire until this died down, but her conscience nagged at her. What if she’d unknowingly helped destroy Shalfak? Marcus wanted answers, but so did she. “Do you know if Numicius is in town?”
“Most of the nobles are here in Emona with it being near the end of the empress’s confinement.”