Where Loyalties Lie (Best Laid Plans Book 1)

by Rob J. Hayes

  Keelin made a show of considering the offer.

  “Don’t keep me waiting, Stillwater.”

  “Fine,” he said. “But you’re undressing first this time. I want to make sure you ain’t hiding any weapons – anywhere.”

  “Ya really think I’d use that trick twice?” Elaina grinned, already opening the door.

  More water sloshed over the side of the brass bath as Elaina rhythmically moved her hips back and forth and Keelin struggled against the rising tide of pleasure. He gripped hard at her buttocks, hard enough to bruise, but Elaina didn’t cry out and she didn’t stop, just stared down into his face as she ground her groin against his. Unable to hold back any longer, Keelin grunted, gasped, and released with a contented moan, all to the braying laughter of Elaina Black from atop him. More water sloshed over the side of the bath.

  “Looks like I win again,” Elaina said with a wiggle and a devilish grin.

  Keelin nodded his assent. “You always win the first round, bitch.”

  “Rematch already?”

  Keelin laughed. “I might need a quick rest first. Besides, we should talk business.”

  Elaina cocked an eyebrow at him. “We have business?”

  “Aye, of a sort. First things first. Where’s your father?”

  Elaina grinned and squeezed Keelin with her thighs; it wasn’t comfortable, and she was easily strong enough to hurt him. Elaina was tall and plain-faced, toned from years of hard life and hard toil aboard ships. She had more experience on board pirate ships than any sailor Keelin could name, despite her youth, and could be as cruel as her father or as kind as her mother in equal measure.

  “Are you really asking where Tanner is while you’re still inside his daughter?” Elaina said. “What happens if he’s here? What happens if he walks through that door right now?” She pointed at the door just to make her point.

  “I reckon he’d slit my throat on principal and beat you half to death for not doing it first.”

  Elaina grinned and opened her mouth to reply just as a hurried banging on the door startled them both into rigid inaction.

  “Is he here?” Keelin whispered. He could feel his heart racing.

  “I fuckin’ hope not,” Elaina whispered back. He could feel her heart racing.

  “Cap’n,” Yanic’s shout came through the door. “Got news, seems urgent.”

  Elaina relaxed a little atop Keelin; he couldn’t help but notice she had yet to dismount. “Come in, Yanic,” she shouted back.

  The door opened. Yanic froze mid-step, his mouth hanging open. Elaina took the cue to arch her back and stretch her arms, giving Yanic full view of her breasts. The poor man seemed lost and unable to look away. Keelin couldn’t exactly blame his first mate; it was taking all of his own willpower not to follow the man’s lead, and he could feel that willpower slipping away even now.

  Keelin attempted to move Elaina, but she only tightened her grip with her thighs. “You ain’t going nowhere, Stillwater. I’m not done with you yet.”

  “What is it, Yanic?” Keelin said.

  “I, uh, there’s… um… damnit! Elaina, could ya put some clothes on or something?” Yanic still seemed unable to tear his eyes away from the naked pirate.

  “Why? Am I distracting you?” Elaina said, and her own eyes flicked down for a moment. “Ya definitely look distracted.”

  Keelin attempted to move again, but Elaina’s thighs squeezed him tighter still and she shot him a dangerous look that threatened real physical harm should he attempt to force the issue. Content that he was much safer off in the woman’s good books, Keelin relaxed back with a sigh. “Just… What is it, Yanic?”

  “Aye. Um… news, Cap’n.” Yanic's eyes seemed locked on Elaina's chest.“Boat in from Black Sands. Town’s gone.”

  “Gone?” Keelin and Elaina said in unison.

  “Burned,” Yanic clarified. “Couple of lads… um… from the Nipples… um… no, not that.”

  Elaina laughed. “I think ya need to order ya first mate to the brothel, Stillwater. I’m starting to think he’s never seen a pair before.”

  “The Narrow Escape,” Yanic continued quickly. “A, uh, couple of lads went ashore. Said the place was burned to the ground and… um… folk had wounds and such from swords, I guess.”

  “And this couldn’t have waited?” Keelin said. “We’re busy, Yanic.”

  Yanic’s face somehow managed to find an even brighter shade of red. “Seemed… um… important, I think. Oh – Drake!”

  Keelin frowned. “Morrass?”

  Elaina let out a noise worryingly close to a growl, and her grip on Keelin’s midsection tightened even more. He was beginning to find it hard to breathe. “Elaina,” he wheezed, “this hurts.”

  The woman sneered at him but released some of the pressure. “Don’t go soft on me, Stillwater. What about Morrass?”

  Yanic startled back into life. “They said… um… that is, the boys from the Narrow Escape said they saw the Fortune sailing away – from Black Sands.”

  “He did it?” Keelin shifted his weight slightly in the cooling tub of water, and quickly held up placating hands to Elaina as she sent a glare his way.

  “They reckon so.”

  “That it, Yanic?” Elaina asked coldly.

  “Aye.”

  “Good. Fuck off.”

  “Aye,” Yanic said, backing towards the door, bumping into the door frame, and then backing out into the waiting hallway. His eyes never left Elaina’s body even as he was shutting the door.

  Keelin decided it was his turn to stare at the naked pirate. He found Elaina watching him curiously. She leaned in towards him, far enough down that her breasts dipped into the tepid water and her face was just inches from his own.

  “Do you know him?” she whispered.

  “Drake?”

  “Aye.”

  Keelin stared into Elaina’s bright blue eyes. “I’ve met him once or twice. Why? Do you know him?”

  She smiled then, and it made her pretty, if not beautiful. Keelin felt the urge to kiss her, but he resisted; Elaina wasn’t the type for such affection. “Everybody knows Drake.”

  Keelin felt blood rush to his face. There was something in the way Elaina said it that made him unreasonably jealous, and he didn’t like it. “What’s that mean?”

  Elaina leaned backwards until she was upright and shrugged. Keelin felt the urge to grab hold of her, and this time it wouldn’t be gentle. He surged out of the water, picking Elaina up and turning her around before bending her over the side of the tub.

  Elaina laughed as Keelin manhandled her, but she spread her legs and braced against the tub. “It’s about fucking time, Stillwater. You promised me round two.”

  Chapter 6 - Fortune

  The waves lapped up the stretch of sandy shore, the wind breezed through the nearby jungle, the gulls cawed high up above in the blue sky, and the Fortune sat still and silent, keeled over to her port side.

  Drake hated seeing his ship like this. On the water the Fortune was sleek and fast and indomitable: a truly unique design. Drake had made certain of that by murdering the genius who had built her. She was the fastest ship he’d ever had the fortune of knowing, and her reputation was as dark as his own. The Fortune had haunted the seas from Sarth to the Five Kingdoms to the Dragon Empire to the Wilds; all knew her name, and all knew to fear her. There was no sense in running from a ship that could outrun the wind itself. But that was out on the water. Here, on land, she was nothing but silent, dead wood. Drake hated seeing his ship like this, and he also knew she hated being seen like this.

  “She’s lookin’ pretty banged up, Cap’n Morrass,” said one of the shipwrights. He was a squat, balding man with one eye and a jawline the likes of which a stone Adonis would have been proud to own.

  “Aye,” Drake said, morose. “Been a long while since we last put her in for real repairs. Couple of leaks here and there, but nothing we ain’t been able to handle or patch until now.” He missed the sound of her
creaking under his feet and the spray as she cut through waves. Strange that he could go months at a stretch on land and away from his ship, yet the moment she was beached he couldn’t stand to be apart from her.

  “What about the gipples?” asked another of the shipwrights, as different from the first as day from night. This one was tall, thin, and chinless, with skin as dark as onyx and eyes as bright as the bits Drake was offering to pay him to fix the ship.

  “Dead.” Drake pointed to a stretch of beach where dark shapes were splayed out in stark contrast against the yellow sand. “Found four of them in all, and all had damn near chewed through the hull. Plenty of wood needing replacing. My boys could patch it, but I want her fit as a fiddle and tarred up to stop this happening again.”

  “How else is she lookin’? Any other damage?” The third shipwright was a young man who barely looked as though he was off his mother’s tit, but he was the son of an old man Drake knew well. While Drake couldn’t say he trusted the fellow – he wasn’t given to trusting any living soul apart from his brother – he would happily claim to respect the ancient ship builder.

  “Bugger me, lad,” Drake said with a snort. “She’s been out on the waters for about three years since anybody last had a good look at her. What do you think?” The older shipwrights laughed, as if the boy’s question had been so obvious he needn’t have asked. “Minor damage for the most part. Some railing replacement and the like. Might as well give her a new mast while we’re at it, I suppose. That one’s been set fire to once or twice.”

  “I suppose you’ll be wanting the good wood for replacements?” said the squat shipwright. By way of response Drake only stared at the man. “Of course. Well, I reckon I could do it for seven hundred and fifty bits. Three weeks’ work at most.”

  The chinless shipwright chimed in next, while Drake looked at all three of them, thoroughly unimpressed. “Seven hundred bits and two weeks.” He grinned at his fellows as though he’d just secured the deal.

  “My da’ll do it fer five hundred just to have the opportunity to work on the Fortune,” said the child with a smug grin. “Still take two weeks though. Can’t rush good work, he always says.”

  “Five hundred?” said the stout shipwright in a voice so high most singers would have been envious. “You can’t do it for that, won’t even cover the costs.”

  The young lad grinned at them both, and within moments all three shipwrights were arguing as though who Drake chose to fix his ship was up to them. With a sigh he turned away and went back to staring at his poor, beached ship. Nearby he could see Princess and the Arbiter arguing about something. The woman was becoming a constant pain in the poor man’s arse with all of her demands, but Drake wasn’t about to turn her away. An Arbiter was a powerful ally, and Hironous had, for some reason, ordered her to protect Drake.

  He thought about what his brother had said the last time he’d seen him. Not only was Hironous Vance the youngest Inquisitor the Inquisition had ever seen, but he also had the sight. The sight manifested in women as the power to look into a person’s past through their own eyes, but in men it manifested as the power to look into a person’s future – and for that reason Hironous Vance was also known as the Oracle, though not to many outside of Drake’s crew.

  “I don’t have time for this,” Drake said quietly. “I gotta find that bloody pretend pirate, Stillwater.”

  “Did you say something, Captain Morrass?” said the chinless shipwright.

  Drake looked over his shoulder at the arguing fools. “Reckon ya might have mistaken the point of me bringing you here,” he said with a charming grin. “I ain’t asking you what price one of ya can do it for. I’m telling all three of ya to get to work and fix my damned ship. And I’m giving ya one week to do it.”

  “I already have a client.”

  “One week?”

  “They couldn’t fix it in a month!”

  Drake spat into the sand. It was a small gesture, but enough to silence all three shipwrights. “I don’t care about your other clients and I don’t care about your issues with each other. Ya each get one thousand bits, all nice and shiny, and if the Fortune ain’t back on the water in a week, I’ll cut ya noses off and sew them to your arseholes. Good?”

  The three men looked at each other quickly and, as one, nodded their assent. “What should I do about Captain Barklow?” the stout one said.

  “Who?” Drake had never heard of Captain Barklow, which put the man well and truly in the realm of inconsequential. Captains came and went all the time out in the isles, and unless they’d proven they had a name worth knowing, Drake didn’t bother taking the time to know it.

  “The Captain of the Hearth Fire,” the shipwright said, nervously scratching at his chiselled chin. “My workers are currently fixing his ship.”

  Drake considered the situation for a moment, then grinned as opportunity once again presented itself. “Pull the workers and get them to fixing the Fortune. I reckon I’ll go have myself a chat with this Captain Barklow.”

  Drake looked over at his first mate. “Princess,” he shouted. “I want you and Byron with me. We’re going to town. Beck, might be you want to tag along as well. Maybe you’ll get to see what us pirates are really like.” He turned back to find the three shipwrights watching him intently. “And you boys might want to get to work. You’ve got a week to fix my bloody ship.”

  Port Sev’relain was fair buzzing with activity and noise. Drake wagered he’d never seen so many folk out and about in the town at once. Pirates walked about in groups, some enjoying snatched days of shore leave while others hauled loot and supplies to and from their respective ships. Horses and carts may be the accepted method of transporting goods in most civilised places, but the Pirate Isles were far from civilised and the people that lived there even less so.

  Pirates were many things, Drake knew, but work– shy wasn’t one of them. They were men and women who eschewed rigidly lawful societies in a bid to make something for themselves, and there was no better way to make something for oneself than by taking it from someone else. It was a work ethic Drake could agree with. The pirates of the isles were his people, and he’d make sure they all knew that soon enough.

  Their entrance into the town proper, from the beach upon which the Fortune sat sad and silent, didn’t go unnoticed. Drake had been the one to bring the dire news of Black Sands, the first major pirate town to be destroyed since the days of the old Captain Black and the Great Purge. Deun Burn had already cast doubt on Drake’s legitimacy simply by suggesting that he may have had a hand in that destruction. Whether that accusation was true or not, the Riverlander would need to be turned or buried before he began speaking out against Drake. But the Oracle had been clear and crystal on the matter: Stillwater had to be recruited, and soon, before he joined the other side.

  Drake felt himself growing warm and sticky under his clothing, but it would take more than hot weather and a lack of a breeze to remove him from his jacket and hat. Instead, he decided somewhere with a more indoors locale was in order, and preferably somewhere that served something wet and alcoholic. With those thoughts in mind he made for the Piper’s Flock.

  “Run off down to the docks, Princess. Find the Hearth Fire and let me know when you discover where its captain might be hiding.”

  Princess didn’t change direction. “What if he’s already having a drink?” the first mate said, pointing at the tavern.

  “Then I reckon we’ll be seeing you real soon.” Drake dismissed the man with a wave towards the docks and continued on.

  With a groan Princess turned and trudged off through the heat and dust towards the harbour. Drake spared the man a quick glance, but he couldn’t be seen to care too much for a single disgruntled crewman, even if he did count Princess as a friend and ally.

  “The more loyal the dog, the more it hurts when kicked,” Arbiter Beck said smugly just as Drake reached the door to the tavern.

  Taking his hand from the door, Drake turned to find Arbite
r Beck taking off her hat and shaking out her golden blond hair, which reached down past her shoulders and made her skin glow in the bright light of the sun. Drake decided right then that there wasn’t much he wouldn’t pay to see Arbiter Beck naked, but that was a matter for another day.

  “Cover your ears, Byron,” Drake said to the giant, who looked either pleasantly uninterested, bemused, or possibly constipated; it was hard to tell, as the man’s head seemed too small for his body and his features too large for his head. Despite his inscrutable expression, the big man took two meaty hands to his ears and covered them obediently, which made for a strange sight and no mistake.

  “You might wanna be careful who ya go calling a dog, Arbiter,” Drake said. “Some folk around here don’t take too kind to such insults. Even folk as placid as my first mate can be a real terror when ireful. And you don’t reward loyalty with laxity. Now, just what were you and he arguing about earlier, down on the beach? Looked fair intense.”

  “You said I should take all issues to Princess,” Arbiter Beck said with a cold stare. “You were quite adamant on the matter, as I recall.”

  “Aye.”

  “Well, I’ve taken an issue to Princess, and if he knows what’s good for him he’ll soon start handling it.”

  Curiosity nagged at Drake, but he had enough matters to worry about and he trusted that Princess would acquiesce to the Arbiter’s demands without giving away the ship. With a shrug he tapped the hulking Byron on his arm, and the giant uncovered his ears.

  “Fancy a drink, Byron?” Drake said slowly.

  Byron seemed to think about that for a moment, then looked up at the tavern. “Piper’s Flock. One copper bit for an ale,” he said quietly. “Two copper bits for rum. For five copper bits ya get a room an’ a woman.” The giant’s mouth twitched up into what Drake could only assume was a smile. “Carol always calls me sweetie and pats my arm.”

  Drake winced. “Carol ain’t here no more, Byron. Not since you… It’s why you don’t get to go anywhere on your own no more.”