The Red Pearl

by C. K. Brooke

The shopkeeper looked taken aback. “For the lady?”

  “Yeah. And I’ve got money I’m itching to spend. So you want to help us out?” Robin cocked an eyebrow.

  “Absolutely.” The man hurriedly guided Antonia into a chair, where he brought out pair after pair of fine Axacolan boots. Antonia eyed them, amazed. She’d never seen such tall footwear, which extended up her calves, nearly to her knees. Each flaunted a unique design more intricate than the last, and one was even made of snakeskin.

  Once she’d selected a comfortable pair, Robin addressed the shopkeeper again. “She needs trousers, too.”

  This time, the man knew better than to hesitate. After selecting several garments for her to try on, he sent Antonia into a closet, where she could change in privacy. As soon as the curtain was drawn, the young woman slipped out of her gown and into an airy blouse. Grinning to herself, she slid her legs into a pair of closefitting brown trousers, already savoring the sense of independence they gave her. Once she’d buttoned and belted them, with her blouse snugly tucked in, she pushed through the curtain. The men, who’d been making small talk, fell silent.

  The shopkeeper brought his hands together. “A perfect fit! So modern. So daring!”

  Antonia beamed, looking to Robin. He said nothing, only gaping at her.

  “Well?” She spun around. “What do you think?”

  Were his cheeks burning? “I think it’s time to pay,” he mumbled, reaching into his pocket.

  ROB TRIED NOT TO STARE as he followed the young woman down the street. But he couldn’t very well help it, could he? After all, it was right there before him, shouting to be noticed with its every sway.

  Her backside.

  He’d seldom seen a woman in trousers. And he’d certainly not made a habit of eyeing ladies’ posteriors, either. But just this once, he indulged himself. For beneath the straight fall of a gown, he’d missed just how broadly those hips belled out beneath her tapering waist, giving volume to that spherical masterpiece beneath.

  Why had he suggested trousers? If Antonia was going to look like this hereon, the rest of the trip would be torment. Though he tried, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her bottom half. It just looked so…luscious. Hot damn, Annie.

  He was perspiring by the time they returned to the carriage, though not only from the temperature. Maverick wagged his tail in greeting. “I suppose we can travel a bit longer,” the man suggested, returning to his spot behind the wheel, “then look for lodging.”

  Antonia climbed into her seat. “I’m game. Want me to drive?”

  “Nah.” Rob revved the engine and set off again, winding through the busy streets. The landscape grew greener still, and the weather moister, muggier. They passed lane after lane of ramshackle houses and the occasional wealthy hamlet, heading south as the sun descended to their right. The map’s next instructions were to find a southwestern point at Axacola’s tip. They simply had to drive to the coast.

  But as the sky darkened, cueing the hour to seek lodging, they came across no more cities. Rob had expected the land to continue in more or less the same manner—greeting them with town after town—but the road they now traveled was lonely amidst naught but farmland.

  “I can already see the moon,” said Antonia. “Do you think we’ll come across another city soon?”

  “I sure hope so,” Rob muttered. Behind him, Maverick’s stomach growled. “Hang on, boy.”

  They drove several more miles before finally making out the distant light of civilization. Relieved, Rob veered toward it. The sky was dark by the time their carriage bumped along the crackled brick road of a tiny village. Antonia pointed. “I think there’s an inn.”

  Rob didn’t much fancy the rundown building she indicated, but it appeared to be their only choice.

  The host spoke no Innían, but through a series of gestures and babbling, they came to understand he’d only one room available for the evening. “We’ll take it.” Rob extended a coin.

  With a bow of his head, the innkeeper proceeded to serve them dinner. He made no objections to Maverick, so the dog lay by Rob’s chair, awaiting scraps the man was sure to drop.

  After their meal, Rob and Antonia climbed a set of grimy stairs to the second story, and entered the last vacant room. The floor was cold and bare, and the window had no covering. A single mattress rested atop a stack of wooden crates. Meanwhile, to their left, a gecko slithered up the wall.

  “Antonia.” Rob dropped his voice. “My gods, but I think we made a wrong turn and ended up in Elat.”

  Her fair eyebrows came together.

  “But do you not see it?” Taking her by the hand, he guided her inside, outstretching his free arm. “This is the grandest place I’ve ever laid eyes upon. It’s got to be the King’s own castle. Why, look at this bed!”

  She giggled, catching on.

  “Such craftsmanship!” Rob knocked his fist against the crates. “I wonder how many men it took to design such an artful bedframe.”

  “Oh, but Robin, you are forgetting the incredible view.” Playing along, Antonia pulled him to the single window. “Behold: our kingdom.”

  Side by side, they gazed through the window at none other than the brick rear of a neighboring building, while an alley cat mewled in the street below. Maverick perked his ears.

  “Well, my lady.” Rob gave her a bow, and she curtseyed in turn. At this, they laughed, for she couldn’t quite execute one in trousers. “I shall depart your luxurious quarters while you prepare for slumber. You may summon me back when you are through.” He lifted her hand and kissed it in jest. “Adieu.”

  Allowing her privacy, the man quitted the chamber and waited in the hall.

  After a few minutes, the door reopened. Antonia wore one of his mother’s old nightshifts—he vaguely recognized it—with her hair combed neatly behind her ears. She grinned, replacing the lantern atop the end table, while Rob unfurled his bedroll on the floor.

  Her smile faded. “What are you doing?”

  “Making camp.” He swatted the lumpy pillow. “The lady of the castle gets the bed, of course.”

  “Are you sure that’s sanitary? The floor looks sort of filthy, you know.”

  He glanced up at her, half-laughing. “Where else do you expect me to sleep?”

  She blushed. “I’d…well, I’d just thought that…maybe…”

  Rob stared. She hadn’t actually thought they’d be sharing the bed together, had she? Good gods, Annie.

  “Never mind,” she mumbled, folding down the sheets. She turned her back to him, and Rob averted his eyes. Best not to catch another glimpse of the shape of her backside before falling asleep, lest he be driven mad the whole night.

  He climbed into his bedroll, beginning to appreciate how weary he was. He closed his eyes and saw passing scenery, still felt the carriage wheels rolling beneath him. Despite his fatigue, however, he lay awake for a time, even after Antonia snuffed out the lantern. And he could tell by the absence of her steady breathing that she wasn’t sleeping, either.

  Although things seemed to have returned to normal—whatever ‘normal’ was between them—something still perturbed Rob. It was the morning he’d rescued her. She had plainly been upset about something. It had sustained her against him, to the point where she’d even tried to leave him. Whatever Wen and Adams had said to her, Rob needed to know. And if they’d told her the truth, then he wanted the chance to explain.

  “Antonia?”

  Her mattress creaked. “Yeah?”

  “Did…Wen and Adams…mention anything about me, when you were with them?”

  She thought. “What, specifically, do you mean?”

  He still couldn’t tell whether she knew. “Did they talk about the map?”

  “Well, yes, they spoke a great deal of the map.”

  Rob shut his eyes. “Did they tell you how I got it?”r />
  The pause before her reply was agonizing. At last, she answered: “No.”

  Silence. Oh, gods. His paranoia had sold him out, and now he’d no idea how to back out of this one.

  “Robin.” He knew that clipped tone. “Are you finally going to tell me how the map came into your possession?”

  Rob sighed. There was no escape at that point, he supposed. And besides, now that Antonia was involved in the hunt too, she deserved to know. “You know I’ve been tracking it down since I was fourteen,” he began. “Well, some months ago, I learned of a woman called Shivana Azul. And not a day too soon, for she was on her deathbed.”

  Antonia listened.

  “She’d been engaged to Ricardo Rivera before he died. In fact, the date of his burial was supposed to have been their wedding day.” He shook his head at the cruelty of the couple’s misfortune. “Anyway. For years after his death, people asked Shivana the whereabouts of his map. But she never claimed to know.

  “That is, until I came to see her.” Rob exhaled, recalling the frail old woman reposing in her infirmary cot, her long gray hair surrounding a face that might’ve once been rather beautiful.

  “I’m not really sure what made her tell me. Perhaps, because she knew she was about to die. Or perhaps, because she could sense…how important it was to me. That if anyone was to walk in Ricardo’s footsteps, it was me.” Rob swallowed. “But she told me where it was.”

  Antonia’s sheets rustled. “And where was it?”

  “She’d hidden it. Buried it with Ricardo’s body.” Rob shut his eyes, memories of the black night at the grave filling him with dread and remorse.

  “I…” Her voice was barely a breath. “I’m not sure I understand. Then how did you…?”

  “I found out where he was buried.”

  “No.”

  “I waited ‘til the moon was new…”

  “No.”

  “Wen and Adams were my look-outs. With my shovel, I dug—”

  “Robin, please do not tell me you unearthed a corpse and robbed that map from his grave.”

  “Aye.”

  “Oh.” The disgust in her gasp crushed him. But it was no less than he deserved.

  “I committed a felony.” His confession was heavy as stone upon his chest. “I’m a thief of the worst sort: a grave robber.”

  Her next question was admittedly unexpected. “Was it…gross?”

  Rob snorted. “He’s been dead for over sixty years. It certainly wasn’t pretty.”

  “Goddess, Rob.”

  “I know.” He sighed, sick with himself. “I know.”

  Antonia fell quiet, and Rob waited, hoping she’d say more. He only wanted to know where she stood, whether or not she was completely disappointed in him, to the detriment of their friendship.

  “Annie?” He searched for her face in the dark room. “Have you lost all respect for me?”

  “I’d little to begin with, Mr. Watkins.”

  “Ha, ha.” He rolled his eyes, though he admired her ability to tease during such a discussion. “But, seriously?”

  She propped up on her elbow. “If you’re asking whether I think less of you, or if this information somehow changes my opinion of you, then no.” She lay back down, her head hitting the pillow with a thud. “All I can tell you is this: we’d better find that damned pearl.”

  THE FOLLOWING DAY WAS A blur of country roads. As they drove midway down the peninsula, the path was barely paved, and the carriage jostled on gravel and dirt. Finally spying a new city on the horizon, Rob steered toward it, keen on finding dinner and lodging.

  They passed through open gates. The area was surprisingly posh in contrast with its rural setting, boasting tall buildings beneath shady palms, white stone statues and an array of well-dressed villagers. “Let’s hope we can afford this venue,” he joked, parking in front of a fine hotel. Of course, he had plenty of cash from selling his and Adams’s horses.

  A valet approached, looking confused. “Kuan élos animolas?” He indicated the spot where a pair of steeds would normally pull the carriage.

  “No animals,” Rob told him. “And I’ll park her myself.”

  Seeming to understand, the valet pointed to a circle in back, around which rows of pricey-looking carriages were arranged. “Cor blimey,” muttered Rob. “Everyone here drives Santiagos!”

  Antonia looked up. “Santi-whats?”

  “You’ve never heard of Santiago?”

  She shook her head.

  “They’re a carriage manufacturer. Very expensive.” Rob drove to the circle and found a gap between a pair, into which he maneuvered his vehicle. “And next to them, our dusty little buggy looks like a punch line.” He turned off the motor. “I suppose it is a science experiment.”

  Antonia gave an exaggerated lift of her chin. “Well, I’m not impressed.” She opened her door. “One can ride in an expensive carriage any old day. But nothing compares to driving your father’s prototype. It’s the experience that counts.”

  Together, they linked arms and went around to the front of the hotel. Maverick, who was not invited to join them that evening, wandered off into the shade of a nearby alley.

  Antonia gasped. “Oh, but shouldn’t I change out of my trousers? I’m hardly dressed for a place as fine as this.”

  Rob shook his head. “Don’t worry yourself. Trust me, Annie, all they care about is the money.” He patted his pocket. “Which I have.”

  Sure enough, no one seemed to notice their clothing when they entered the cool, breezy courtyard that served as a lobby. Rob eyed the marble columns. Not bad.

  He checked them in for a pair of rooms. Just as they were leaving, the concierge addressed them in Innían. “I do hope you’ll select our restaurant for your dining plans tonight.”

  Rob glanced at Antonia, who looked enthusiastic at the mention of dining. “We just might,” he replied.

  The concierge pointed. “Take your first left down the main hall. It’s on the verandah. You cannot miss it.”

  “I’m starving,” declared Antonia as they followed the man’s instructions, their boots echoing upon marble floors. They rounded the first corner, passing beneath an archway crawling with leafy vines.

  “Oh, wow.” It was the largest verandah Rob had ever seen, lined with tables in white linens, complete with a dark-skinned musician fondling a guitar in back. The notes his instrument emitted were gentle but rich, a variety of flats and sharps in a meandering yet evocative tune.

  The place was fairly empty. A few couples sat sipping wine, while a lone gentleman took his cocktail at the bar. At once, a waiter motioned for them to follow him. “A private table for the lovely couple.” He smiled.

  Rob felt his stomach ripple, and the waiter beat him to pulling out Antonia’s chair for her. Rob sat down across from her, watching as she thanked the server and accepted a menu. The candle on their table flickered in the warm breeze as Antonia pored over the evening’s specials. “I haven’t the foggiest idea what any of these dishes are,” she admitted. “But they all sound delicious.”

  Rob opened his menu. “We’ve not eaten in so long, I’m sure at this point, pickled goats’ testicles would appeal to you.”

  She pursed her lips. “How charming you are.”

  “Hey, what can I say? I’m a real dreamboat.”

  “You wish,” she muttered, though she failed to hide her grin.

  More patrons poured in, and the pair leisurely shared a bottle of wine, listening to the music as other couples rose and danced. Rob watched the sorry blokes make fools of themselves to please their mistresses. Not in a million years would he join them. He didn’t dance.

  The server eventually returned with an appetizer on a silver plate. Rob frowned. “But we didn’t order any appetizer.”

  The server indicated the lone gentleman seated at the b
ar. “Compliments of your friend, señoro.”

  Rob turned for a glimpse of the man, who caught his eye and saluted them. Antonia stared curiously, to the point where the fellow finally slid down from his stool and made his way over. Rob groaned. Whatever this was, he wasn’t in the mood. He wanted to relax. Not deal with strangers.

  “Howdy.” The man approached their table. He looked to be at least fifty years old, finely dressed with a rather brawny build. Judging by his accent, he certainly wasn’t Axacolan.

  Antonia set down her wine glass. “Thank you for the appetizer.”

  Rob didn’t appreciate the way the stranger’s brown eyes twinkled at her. It was not unkind; to the contrary, it was much too fond.

  “Well.” He grinned, beefy fingers gripping the back of Rob’s chair. “I know a pair of fellow travelers when I see ‘em, and just thought I’d give you two a warm Axacolan welcome. Besides,” he swatted Rob on the back, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen such lovely blonde hair as your pretty little partner’s got.”

  Antonia blushed, and Rob cleared his throat. “Oh. She’s not my, er… We’re not…”

  “Forgive me.” The man bobbed his head, turning to Antonia. “In that case, miss, since you aren’t taken, would you mind if I asked you for a dance?”

  Rob didn’t like the way her cheeks rose into a coy smile. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind.” She set down her napkin.

  The stranger laughed, taking her hand as she stood. “I daresay, little lady. A man my age doesn’t see many firsts. But this’ll certainly be the first time I’ll have danced with a woman in trousers!”

  She giggled, accompanying him to the back of the verandah, where they joined the musician and other dancers. Irritated, Rob turned away. He wasn’t going to watch. Instead, he gazed at the steaming appetizer on the platter in front of him. It looked to be a meat dumpling of sorts, covered in tomatoes. His stomach growled, but he wouldn’t touch the plate. He didn’t want anything from that old man.

  Unable to help himself, he peeked back over his shoulder. The fellow had better not try anything with Annie. If his hands roamed, if Rob caught him eyeing any part of her for a second too long, there’d be hell to pay.