by Apryl Baker
“Easily.” Stephen looked over to Ryder, who was now securing the opposite end of the chain to her own left wrist. “You?”
“Just fine.” Ryder finished securing the chain, allowing the slack to drop.
A harsh bang echoed through the room as the heavy steel links made contact with the ship’s wood floor.
The changeling went down to a knee under the weight.
“Are you kidding me?” For the first time, the changeling shifted to his true form. Pasty, translucent skin with a mouth of sharp teeth and reptile-like eyes. “I can’t walk like this.”
“Learn fast, Buttercup.” Stephen motioned for Ryder to exit first. “Like I said, when we get to Atlantis, I have an idea for a more user-friendly option, but until then, you’ll have to deal with it.”
“Ugh.” The changeling made it to his feet with some effort and followed Ryder out of the cell. “So, what are we, anyway?”
“What?” Ryder asked.
“Yeah, I mean, are we the good guys? Do we have a cool name like The Gang or The League?” The changeling looked at Ryder then over his shoulder at Stephen. “Come on, we need some kind of cool team name.”
Stephen slowed his walk for a bit as Ryder and Change made their way to the top deck of the ship. For everyone’s sake, he hoped he was making the right decision.
Since his brush with death at the hands of the Atlantians, there was something changing within Stephen, a perspective he didn’t ever think he’d have. That life was precious, and everyone was capable of mistakes. If he could forgive Ryder, he could give the changeling an opportunity to redeem himself. He just hoped no one would have to suffer if he was wrong.
***
The tavern Valeria, Ileana, Lukas, and Tobias found themselves in was much like those she frequented along most of the ports she’d visited. Being on the dock, it was rougher than most of the gentry would step into, let alone palace guards or the city watch. This place housed the worst of the worst that came from the ships docked not far from where they were. Criminals came and went, as did some of the shadier merchants who had need of a seedier merchant than they’d find in the city.
Dark wood tables matched the equally dark interior. Smoke filled the air from the tobacco many puffed away on. Rank smells assaulted Valeria, unwashed bodies the culprit. Most of these men had probably just docked, and they wouldn’t bother cleaning up. They’d be right back on board their vessels within a few days, some as early as the morn. She didn’t take offense. It was what it was.
The other three men sitting at their table took more than a mild offense at being forced to meet here. She wanted to snort, but kept the bottom half of her face neutral. Her mask she wore as Emerald, captain of The Emerald Queen, covered most of her face. She’d gotten a few curious looks when she’d walked in, but it hadn’t deterred her. A woman must portray even more confidence than a man if she wanted respect amongst pirates, who were typically male. If she showed even a hint of weakness, they would eat her alive.
She’d gone to the biggest table in the back. It wasn’t large enough, so she’d had Lukas shove another table against it. When one of the serving wenches had started to make a fuss, Valeria turned, staring her down with a look that promised pain if she didn’t shut her mouth. The girl had gone back to doing her job.
Two of the three men who joined them were as out of place as a beggar child sitting at the head of the king’s table. They wore silks of bright colors, their hair fashionably done in the same shade as the garments they wore. Rings adorned their fingers, and heavy gold chains lay upon their necks. They were asking to be robbed.
“Tobias Dendali.” The shortest and fattest of the three spoke first. “I did not think you’d ever have the courage or the audacity to return home.”
Tobias inclined his head, his eyes hard as they took in the man. “Maester Grigoren, I return to keep a promise made to my brother at his request with his dying words.”
“And what promise would that be, traitor?” This from the one on the left, the only one of the three who understood what to wear to a tavern on the wharf. His clothes were plain, simple, and had no adornments. He wore one gold ring with a sigil of some kind. Valeria knew men like this one. They were deceptively average, but usually the most dangerous.
“He’s no more a traitor than you, Darius.” The baldheaded jovial man laughed. “Like you, he chose the winning side. Unlike you, he got labeled a traitor for it.” The man turned to face us. “Welcome home, Tobias Dendali.”
“It is good to be home, Heyshen. Although, it is quite disturbing to see the changes that have been made in my absence.”
“Dark times, my friend.” Heyshen nodded, tugging at his short goatee. “Our beloved king does have a certain vision none of us could have imagined.”
“Beloved?” Tobias tilted his head. “Is he so loved among all our people?”
Maester Grigoren let out a heavy sigh. “Of course, we love him. No one wants to end up with their head mounted on the palace walls for all to see.”
Valeria blinked. Mounted on the palace walls? This Kronos ruled with fear, not kindness. Granted, your people did need to fear you a little, but only so far as they knew justice would be forthcoming. Any crime needed to be dealt with swiftly, but you needed kindness and empathy to rule as well. If you had no sympathy for the plight of your people and only concerned yourself with your own importance, the people would only put up with it for so long. Why had they not rebelled against such cruelties?
“Why do the people put up with so much brutality in their king? Surely there are enough citizens to rise up?”
“And who might you be, my dear?” Darius leaned forward, his muddy brown eyes squinted like a rat’s.
“I am Emerald, captain of The Emerald Queen.”
Darius let out a full belly laugh. “A pirate? You bring us to meet with a traitor and a pirate?”
She stood and had her sword against his throat before the words were finished tumbling from his lips. His gasp was loud, and only a few curious glances of onlookers met the action. They’d pay no mind to one of their own threatening a noble.
“I’m no’ just any pirate, gov’ner.” She smiled the smile that sent shivers through the hearts of those who had tried to hurt her and let her pirate accent come out. “I’m the most feared pirate to ever roam the skies. They sing tales of my courage throughout the nine Kingdoms of DeCadia, and even here in Atlantis you know my name. So, no, I’m no’ just any pirate. I’m Emerald, and you had best remember your place.” She pushed the blade just a bit, nicking the soft skin of his neck, and watched as a red trail of blood ran down his chalky white skin. “We all bleed red, gov’ner.”
“Be at ease, Emerald.” Tobias placed a hand upon her forearm. “He’s ignorant, I agree, but we need him.”
“Best remember your place as well, girl.” Darius flashed her a smug smile.
Valeria stared him down and went to draw the sword away from him, but let it drop at the last second and cut a long slash down his fancy silk tunic. He gasped and red bloomed against the vibrant white of the material.
“Something to remember me by, gov’ner.” She wiped the tip of her blade against his shoulder before sheathing it. She bowed and took her seat. “Now, explain to me why we need fools, Tobias.”
“He’s not a fool, my lady.” Ileana sipped at her wine. “He controls the Merchants Guild. If you want them on your side, we need him.”
Darius laughed. “You dare to call this…criminal ‘my lady’? She is no lady.”
“I’m more of a lady than you’ll ever be. At least I have all the right parts.”
Maester Grigoren burst out laughing. “I do admire your fire, girl. You remind me of our old king. He could laugh at anything, even in the direst of circumstances.”
“It’s true. My brother always saw the best in even the worst of us.” Tobias looked down, but Valeria caught the flash of pain in his eyes. “He was a wise and honorable king.”
“He was,” Dariu
s agreed, wiping the blood from his neck. “He is missed by all.”
“And that, gentlemen, is why we are here today.” Ileana took control of the conversation. “I think it’s time we had a true leader back on our throne, one of the bloodline that built this great city from nothing but sand to the great architecture we see today.”
“And you think the people will want the man who murdered his brother as their king?” Heyshen’s question wasn’t littered with ire or derision. It was a simple question of fact. Tobias may not have plunged the sword through his brother, but he had brought about the circumstances that led up to it. His people may not want him.
“I know they won’t support my claim.”
“Then why are we here?” Maester Grigoren seemed genuinely confused. “Why ask us here to support a claim if you are not making one?”
Valeria’s senses heightened. He wouldn’t. Not after she’d refused.
“Because I am asking you to support a claim. My granddaughter’s claim to the throne. She was not raised by me, nor did she know about me or her heritage growing up. She’s innocent of all the evils that befell our bloodline because of me. She’s strong. Confident in all she does. Careful in her choices, and has the wisdom to listen to others before making decisions. She’s already a leader men follow boldly into battle, someone they trust with their lives. She shows compassion where it’s merited, and is swift with justice when needed. She is already a queen in her own right. That is whose claim I urge you to support.”
“And where is this paragon, dare I ask?”
Tobias looked Darius squarely in the eyes and waved his hand toward Valeria, much to her utter horror. “Meet Valeria Dendali Riverthorne, Captain of The Emerald Queen and the future Queen of Atlantis.”
He had to go and say it, didn’t he? As much as she wanted to strangle him, she knew better than to let the words of denial burst from her. If they saw her waver even an inch, they’d be on her like a pack of wild dogs, and that was not who she was. She was Emerald, the most feared pirate in all DeCadia. She would not show anything less than what her status deserved.
“You want us to support a self-proclaimed pirate and scourge as our queen?” Darius sat back, dumbstruck. “The people of Atlantis would never back such a person.”
“Do you know the story of how Atlantis came to be?” Maester Grigoren asked Darius. “Not the ones they teach children in school, but the ones that are written in the chronicles stored in the great library?”
“I can’t say that I do, Grand Maester.”
“Nor should you.” The man smiled. “You are not the keeper of records, as I am. There was a man who landed on our shores with a ship overflowing with wounded men. Atlantis was only a small fishing village then. It was called Dark Wolf Bay. The villagers took in the wounded and cared for them, shared all they had. The men did not leave as the villagers thought they would. They had been looking for somewhere to hide when they stumbled upon the village. It was a perfect cove for a pirate’s den. The villagers demanded they leave at once. They wanted to be left in peace.”
Valeria sipped her wine, caught up in the Maester’s words. He was a gifted storyteller.
“How did the men repay the kindness that had been given to them? They slaughtered all the men in the village, even some of the male children old enough to understand what happened. The pirates claimed Dark Wolf Bay as theirs and used the remaining women and children as slaves. The pirate’s name was Blaindell Dendali. He was the first of the great kings, only then he was a pirate who ruled over our waters. It wasn’t until a hundred years later that his grandson, Ailyen Dendali, wanted more. He used the slaves to begin to build himself a city. Once the first crude structures were completed, he named it Atlantis. That is how our city was born, not out of some great battle as was told in the history books, but from thievery and deceit.”
“And while all that is fascinating, how does that help us when no one in Atlantis knows the story?” The derision in Darius’s tone was plain, and it made Valeria want to stab him again. The man would be the first person she replaced if she decided to do this.
“Because they will soon know it.” Maester Grigoren grinned, one of his front teeth missing. The man had to be at least seventy. It was a wonder he still had any teeth. “Tomorrow celebrates our history, and I can very easily take out the tome and read from it in the city center where the masses will be waiting to hear our stories. Kronos won’t care. He’s too focused on battle plans, and he might even enjoy knowing the great Dendalis came from such lowly beginnings, beginnings he himself came from. The orphan boy would be king.”
“And if we do back this girl’s claim to the throne, what is in it for us?” Heyshen asked.
“Something you’ve always wanted, my friend, a title and lands.” Tobias kept his face free of emotions, but Heyshen wasn’t quite as good as Tobias. Surprise and then greed flitted through his eyes before he shut his emotions down. Valeria had seen it though. She was good at reading people. This man would support them so long as he was given a reason to. He saw the world in terms of profit and loss, not in terms of justice and honor. Deplorable, but necessary.
“I have no need of a title or lands.” Maester Grigoren shifted in his seat. “I’m too old to care about things like that. I just want a warm bed and to serve at my post for as long as I am able.”
“Then you shall have it, Grand Maester.”
The old man nodded, and then it was Darius’s turn. Valeria hated to promise the vile man anything. “And what of me, Tobias Dendali? What would you give me to support your little scheme to hand over our great city to a pirate?”
“What is it you want, Darius, son of Micah?”
He thought for a long moment. “I want a seat at the table.”
What was he talking about? Valeria had no idea what table he referred to, but Tobias certainly did.
“You have no right to sit at that table.”
“If you want my support, the support of every merchant and shipper in this city, you will give me a seat at the council’s table.”
“You need him, Tobias.” Ileana’s words were soft, but full of resolve. “You can’t take this city without him.”
Valeria didn’t like the way Tobias was tensed, his muscles aching for a fight. She could tell from the way his entire body had tightened and coiled.
“Why should he not be allowed to sit at the table?” Valeria needed to know more so she could come to a resolution.
“He murdered his own wife to become the head of the Merchants Guild. She was my niece, bastard daughter of my brother, but she was loved by her family. He killed her so he could marry the daughter of the man who made him what he is. We may not have been able to prove it, but the king knew, as did I.”
Well, that explained that. Valeria didn’t particularly like it either, but she understood something better than most. Anyone could be replaced, even if that came with poison or a swift blade to the right organ.
“I understand rage, Tobias. I do, but Ileana is right. If you want to do this, you must put away your anger and stand alongside your enemies. Many men have done the same to achieve their goals in the past. Today is no different. If Ileana says we need him, we need him. Stand down.”
The slight jerk of Tobias’s head was enough for Darius to grin and settle back. As much as Valeria would have liked to run him through with her sword, she pushed the urge down. She didn’t want this, never had, but she would not weaken Tobias in the presence of these men by rejecting the idea of her claim to the throne. That would be done in private.
“We will have the time we need to persuade the people of Atlantis when Kronos and the troops leave to conquer the nine kingdoms of DeCadia.” Heyshen pulled their focus back to the discussion at hand. “While he is gone, we can take the city. Only the city guard will be left, but we’ll need to sway them to our side. It won’t be easy or quick. We’ll have to start small, convincing those in power, and then the common people…”
“No.” Tobias sh
ook his head and interrupted his friend. “The common people outnumber the nobles three to one. It is them who we need to convince. My brother always said Atlantis was only as strong as the bond between him and the commoners.”
“Then he shouldn’t have died, should he? They must not have loved him so much.”
Darius’s sneer almost snapped Tobias’s restraint. Almost. Valeria watched, fascinated, as the vein in his forehead began to throb.
“Nay, Darius. It was the nobility that undermined my brother. It was the nobility that shoved a sword through him. It was the great and powerful nobles who killed him, not the common people. Had they known what was about to transpire, I doubt we would be here having this conversation now. Kronos knew the people loved their king. The noblemen? Not so much. That’s why he planned his coup among them, those who considered themselves better than the hardworking people who made what they had possible. Never doubt our people’s love for their true king.”
Darius yawned, and a low growl emanated from Tobias.
“You never did associate yourself with the common peoples of Atlantis, did you, Darius? Even though you were born to a lowly craftsman who made trinkets for only the poorest of people, you always thought you deserved more.”
“I did deserve more.” Darius’s tone went hard. “I worked for it, old man. I worked for everything I have. No one gave it to me like they did you. I wasn’t born into nobility. The Dendalis meant nothing to me except as the people who stole some of my hard-earned coins each week. I worked for it. They didn’t.”
This was going nowhere fast. Valeria had had enough of their bickering. “Quiet. Both of you. You don’t like each other, but you don’t have to like each other to work together. If this crew is going to stand strong, you need to bite back your bitterness and do your part. If you can’t, you have no reason to be here. Can you bite your tongues, or will you continue to bicker like children over a toy?”
Neither said a word, only stared at each other, hatred rolling off them.