Pirates & Privateers

by Jane Glatt

  “The water helps,” Dag said. “And dinner should too.” She picked the bowl of soup off the tray. The downside of pretending to be ill was that she wouldn’t be given anything substantial to eat. She sipped the thin soup.

  Inger sat down on the bed. “Ursa said I can give you anything Espen cooks for any meal at no extra charge,” she said, beaming. “She really hopes you get better soon.”

  “Does she?” Dag asked. “Because Captain Ansdottir said something different.” She put her empty soup bowl back on the tray and crossed her arms.

  “You misunderstood,” Inger said. “Ursa wants you to get better. She told me.”

  “The captain’s exact words were Ursa is not happy you’re still breathing,” Dag said. “It’s hard to misunderstand that.”

  “She didn’t mean it,” Inger said. “She couldn’t have.”

  “You know how your Trait works, Inger. People can lie to you, and you don’t realize it.”

  “She wouldn’t lie to me!” Inger said. “She wouldn’t!”

  “Then Captain Ansdottir lied to me,” Dag said. “But you know how my Trait works.”

  Inger stood up and started pacing. “Why would she lie to me? Why would Ursa say one thing to me and the captain say another thing to you?” She stopped and met Dag’s eyes. “You tried to tell me not to trust them. You said they drugged you. They really did, didn’t they? Hanne and Ursa?”

  “Yes,” Dag agreed. “They drugged me and tried to lock me up.” She sighed. Inger seemed ready to believe her; she had to tell her the rest and hope that Ursa didn’t convince her that Dag was telling her lies. “Do you want to know why I jumped into the sea?”

  “To . . .” Inger paused. “It wasn’t because you changed your mind, was it?” She slapped the side of her head. “I’m so stupid. Stupid, stupid skit!”

  “Hey, stop that,” Dag said. She reached up and grabbed Inger’s hand and pulled her back down onto the bed. “Never say that about yourself. It’s how your Trait works, that’s all.”

  Inger took a deep breath and nodded. “I hate my Trait.” She frowned. “So why did you jump?”

  “Ansdottir threatened you,” Dag said. She wasn’t going to mention that the captain had said she’d have Inger hurt herself—Inger didn’t need to worry about that. “She has a Trait, and I think Ursa does too. I think that’s why Ursa can get you to trust her. There’s a student like that at the Hall: Vilis.” She didn’t think Vilis’ Trustworthiness Trait worked exactly like Ursa’s, but the end result was the same.

  “Vilis,” Inger said. “I’ve met him a few times and really liked him. Skit! The same way I like and trust Ursa.”

  “Similar, I think,” Dag said. She was relieved that Inger was willing to believe her, but would she still once Ursa had a chance to use her Trait against her? “You know you can always trust me, right?”

  “You’re my sister, of course I trust you.”

  “Just remember that,” Dag said. “Always remember that.”

  “I will,” Inger said. “I promise.” She sighed and her shoulders slumped. “I just wish I wasn’t so useless, or worse, a burden.”

  “Don’t think that,” Dag said. “Joosep was wrong not to train you along with me.” Training might have given Inger more confidence in the abilities she did have.

  “Do you really think so?” Inger said.

  “Yes. Joosep never bothered to figure out how to use your Trait, but we already have.”

  “We have?” Inger asked.

  “Yes. The night we stopped the sailors from that ship from being shot,” Dag said. “You were able to hold everyone’s attention while I got them to stand down.”

  “I did do that, didn’t I?” Inger grinned. “Maybe my Trait can be useful?”

  Dag didn’t mention that the sailors were all dead by now since they were aboard the Bright Breeze when it was taken by the pirates. She hoped that none of them had been killed by Inger. “You did. I’m sure that there are other ways to use it; we just have to figure out how. But we will. Together, we will.” She wasn’t going to tell her that she’d already been using Inger’s Trait: that convincing Inger meant that others believed her. She couldn’t risk her twin telling Ursa or Ansdottir.

  Inger leaned over and hugged her. “Thanks, Dag. I need to get this tray back to the kitchen and then get back to work.” She stood up. “Next time I’ll try to sneak you something more solid.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” Dag said. Inger left and Dag could only hope that Ursa wouldn’t realize she’d switched her allegiance again. That would make the tavern owner even more furious that Dag was still breathing. Would Ansdottir feel the need to remedy that?

  THE DOOR OPENED out to darkness. The small lamp in the corner threw shadows onto the figure who stood in the doorway.

  “Charis,” Calder said. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” He took it as a good sign that he was being dealt with by someone who respected him as a sailor. Not that Calder thought Charis was here to set him free.

  “The captain wants to see you,” Charis said. “Don’t try anything.” He pointed a pistol at Calder, who shrugged and headed to the door.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Calder said truthfully. He’d wait for his Luck to make an appearance, rather than try to force it. Although this was one of those times when he wished he could make his own Luck.

  He stepped outside and waited while Charis closed the door, then with the pistol shoved against his back, he was directed out into the yard to the small door that led into the taproom. When he entered the tavern, Inger Lund paused as she picked up a tray, her mouth an O, before she turned and left the bar.

  “This way,” Charis said, pointing to a small door. “Captain’s in there. Be nice or you’ll be dead.”

  “Should I open it?” Calder asked, gesturing to the door. Charis reached past him, knocked on the door, and then stepped back while Calder opened it.

  Captain Margit Ansdottir sat at the head of a long table. She was flanked by Ursa Ozlinch on one side and the Yedrissian from that afternoon on the other.

  Ansdottir lifted a mug and took a gulp before slamming the mug down on the scarred wooden tabletop.

  “Is this the one who ruined our supplies?” Ansdottir asked.

  “Aye, Captain,” the Yedrissian said. “We caught him in the act.”

  Calder shrugged at the man’s blatant lie, but he didn’t say anything. It was never a good idea to interrupt people who were holding you captive. Besides, he wasn’t sure Ansdottir even cared about his perspective. His Luck had already shown Inger that he was here. That might be the only positive thing he got from this meeting. He rocked back on his heels, waiting for whatever was going to happen to happen.

  “What, no rebuttal?” Ansdottir asked him. “No declaration of innocence? No complaint about how you were in the wrong place at the wrong time? Speak up!”

  “Well, not to overstate the obvious,” Calder said. “But I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And that’s whether I did what I’m being accused of or not.”

  “Hah!” Ansdottir pointed a finger at him. “Charis likes you. I can see why. Did you do it?”

  “Does it matter?” Calder asked. “From what I understand, you had something stored out in the forest and now it’s ruined. I’m not sure you care who caused the damage.”

  “No, you’re right,” Ansdottir replied.

  Something in her tone of voice made Calder think that someone was in danger. Was it him? He didn’t think so, at least not right now.

  “What’s done is done,” Ansdottir continued. “But lying about it? That I can’t abide.” She turned to the Yedrissian. “Is there anything about what you’ve told me that you care to amend? Like saying that you caught him in the act?”

  It was a double-edged sword, that question, and Calder thought the Yedrissian knew it. Tell the truth and admit that you lied to your captain, or stick to the lie and hope she believed you. Except he knew that
Ansdottir had the Unseen Trait: she already knew it was a lie.

  The Yedrissian’s eyes widened and his hands started to shake, but he didn’t say a word.

  “That’s what I thought,” Ansdottir said. “Charis, make him an example. My crew doesn’t lie to me, ever.”

  The Yedrissian preceded Charis out of the room, who closed the door, leaving Calder with the two women.

  “Aren’t you afraid to be alone with me now that Charis has left and taken the pistol?” He grinned. He knew that it was a ridiculous question. Each woman had at least fifty pounds on him, and he doubted he could best either one alone, let alone both of them together.

  Ansdottir and Ursa looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

  “Rahm, I’m going to hate killing you, but you have to die,” Ansdottir said, and he thought there was real regret in her voice.

  “Can I at least have one last decent breakfast?” he asked. “It’s my favourite meal, and I would hate to think my last meal in this life was that slop I was fed this evening.”

  “That would be a shame,” Ansdottir said. “Ursa? It’s your kitchen.” Ursa nodded. “That’s settled; one last breakfast before you die in the morning,” Ansdottir continued. “And I rather like not having to reduce the impact of the example Charis is setting for me tonight. Too many hangings in a row produce only fear, and the crew misses the important lessons I’m trying to teach them.”

  “I can see how that would be a problem,” Calder replied, and Ansdottir laughed again. She looked at him and squinted.

  “What were you doing in the boat with the Lund girl?” she asked.

  “Trying to leave Strongrock,” Calder said. “As you can see, it didn’t work for either of us. At least I assume she’s here as well.”

  “She didn’t survive,” Ursa said. “Water that cold? You know how little time a person has.”

  Calder closed his eyes. “That’s too bad.” It might be true, but only if they’d kept Dag’s death from Inger. Because when he’d seen her, Inger had not had the look of someone grieving for her twin. As someone who grieved for his twin regularly, he was certain he’d recognize that in someone else.

  “You knew her well, did you?” Ansdottir asked. “From being Intelligencers?”

  Calder opened his eyes to find Margit Ansdottir staring at him. “My days as a spy are over anyway,” he said. “So, there’s no harm admitting that you have the truth of it.”

  “I really like you,” Ansdottir said almost wistfully. “And according to Charis, you’re a very accomplished sailor. It makes me sad that you have to die.”

  “Not as sad as it makes me,” Calder said. “And I’m a decent sailor, but I don’t possess the right qualities to sail through the Teeth. That I would like to see.”

  “Ah, you know about my knack,” Ansdottir said. “My Trait.”

  “And Ursa Ozlinch has at least one of her own,” Calder said. Ansdottir looked at Ursa, who raised her eyebrows and shrugged. Ah, that surprised them both. “I’m not sure what it is yet, but I’ll figure it out if I need to know.”

  “What’s your Trait?” Ursa asked.

  “And you were both being so polite up until now,” Calder replied. “Even Intelligencers don’t tell each other their Traits.”

  “So, who knows?” Ursa asked. “Someone must?”

  “The man in charge knows,” Calder replied. “He’s the only one who does, as far as I know.” He smiled again. “So Tarmo Holt will be left trying to figure it all out on his own. I heard the Neas was here, in case you’re wondering how I know about Holt.”

  “You recognized it as his? And yet I don’t think you even sail the Pale Sea.” Ansdottir shook her head again. “I am really, really sad that you have to die.”

  There was knock on the door and Charis entered. “It’s done,” he said. “In the square.”

  “Thank you, Charis,” Ansdottir said. “You can take our guest back to his quarters. He’s negotiated a breakfast in the morning, so see that he gets it, before.” Charis nodded and prodded Calder with his pistol.

  “Oh,” Ansdottir said. “Make sure the other one is removed before you end our friend here. He doesn’t deserve to be tainted by the lying piece of skit.”

  “What was that about?” Charis asked once he closed the door to the room.

  “Oh, you know,” Calder replied. “Just making friends.” As he was pushed through the taproom, he spotted Inger Lund again, serving drinks to tavern patrons. She blinked slowly and then scowled at him, and he deliberately looked away from her. And his eyes fell on Ursa Ozlinch’s tattle, Hanne. Her eyes flicked from him to Inger and then back to him, and a slow smile spread across her face. Then he was pushed out the door and into the night. He let himself be guided back to the small cellar. Once Charis had locked him in, he tested the lock. But Luck didn’t make it easy on him and leave the door open. He sat on the cloth and leaned back against the wall. He’d have to wait—and hope—that his Luck worked.

  Chapter 16

  DAG SAT UP, her hands already clutching whoever had grabbed her.

  “Shhh, it’s me,” Inger whispered.

  “What time is it?” Dag had been fast asleep: she rubbed her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Calder’s here,” Inger said.

  “Where? Is he all right?” Had he come to rescue them? She pushed the covers off and started to get up.

  “He’s being held prisoner,” Inger said. “I saw him earlier, but I couldn’t just leave. I had customers to serve. I would have been missed.”

  “Prisoner?” Dag sat back down on the bed. “Where?”

  “In the cold cellar here in the inn,” Inger said. “He’s to be executed right after breakfast.”

  “Skit, skit, skit.” Dag ran a hand through her hair. So much for Calder rescuing her; she’d have to rescue him. “How long until breakfast?”

  “A few hours,” Inger said.

  “Skit,” Dag said again and sighed. “Where exactly is this cellar?”

  “I’m coming with you,” Inger said. “I feel responsible. Neither one of you would even be on Strongrock if I hadn’t run away, so I’m going to help get you—both of you—off this island.”

  “Yes,” Dag said. “And you’ll leave with us.” She stood up and started dressing. She’d come to take Inger home, and that was still her plan. She tied her boots and hung them over one shoulder. She might need them later, but she’d be much quieter in bare feet. “Show me where he is.”

  As quietly as possible they crept down the hall to the back of the inn. Dag had only been in the inn once when she’d visited Calder and now, in the middle of the night, she found the layout disorienting. Thankfully, her twin knew the way, and soon they were standing in the hallway that led, Inger said, to the cellar.

  Dag held a hand up for Inger to stay silent as she peered into the gloom. She didn’t think they would leave Calder unguarded, but where was the guard? There was only one way to approach this room. She felt a chill run down her spine just before she heard a floorboard squeak. From behind them.

  “Who do we have here?”

  Dag ducked down to hide in the shadow. Her Trait should be enough to keep her from being seen, she hoped, but Inger’s meant that she had no chance of escaping notice.

  “Hanne, what are you doing here?” Inger asked. The shadow that was Inger shuffled into the middle of the hallway. Dag took the opportunity to shift a little closer to the cellar door. Her Trait might not be enough to hide her from Hanne forever, but combined with Inger’s there should be enough time for her to unlock the door.

  “I’m supposed to be here,” Hanne replied. “And you’re not.”

  “I was curious,” Inger said. “There was talk in the tavern about a prisoner. A Yedrissian? I’ve never seen a Yedrissian, and since I heard he was going to be executed in the morning I thought . . .” Inger paused. Dag had been about to reach out to the lock so she stopped too, her hand in the air.

  “I thought,” Inger continued.
“I’d come take a look while he was sleeping.”

  “It’s too late for that,” Hanne said with a sneer. “The Yedrissian was hanged tonight. You can still see him in the square, though.”

  “Dead!” Inger exclaimed, and Dag flicked the lock open before retreating to the shadowed corner. “I don’t think I want to see him dead.”

  “Well, that’s the only way you’ll see a Yedrissian tonight,” Hanne said and cackled with laughter. “Go away before I fetch Ursa. She won’t like hearing that you listen to talk while serving her customers.”

  “Please don’t tell her,” Inger said. “I’ll just go up and check on my sister, and then I’ll head to my room.” She looked at Hanne. “Please?”

  “Get going then,” Hanne said. “But remember, I can tell Ursa you spy on her customers whenever I want.”

  “I’m leaving,” Inger said. She headed down the hallway, slipping past Hanne, who turned to watch her go. Dag lifted her boots from her shoulder and threw them. One hit Hanne in the temple, and she dropped to the ground with a yell. By then Dag was on top of her, using her body to keep the other woman on the floor. Dag clamped a hand over Hanne’s mouth and pushed her chin into the floor so she couldn’t bite her hand.

  “I hate this one,” Calder said from her side. He looped a piece of cloth around Hanne’s head, allowing Dag to remove her hand as he tightened the cloth between the other woman’s teeth. He tied a knot at the back of Hanne’s head. “Thanks, by the way.”

  “Sure,” Dag said. “You have her under control?” She barely waited for Calder’s nod before she sprinted down the hall.

  “Inger?” she called softly. “Inger?”

  “I just saw Hanne,” Inger said loudly.

  Dag peered around a corner. Inger was talking to a man in the hallway.

  “Charis.” Dag turned to find Calder at her shoulder. That was the second time he’d been able to sneak up on her: was something going on with her Trait? And Inger’s? Her sister had lied tonight and been believed, and now she was trying to do it again. She’d never been able to lie before: she shouldn’t be able to lie and now here she was doing it twice in one night.