by P. T. Hylton
“Your actions saved three men’s lives,” Caleb said, “and the king took notice. And that was before one of the bandits you captured talked.”
“Yes, yes,” Jacob said with the wave of his hand. “Let’s all leap to action at the words of a bandit looking to save his own life.”
Caleb ignored him. “Turns out one of the bandits had just been hired for another job. A very big job. Our skilled jailer persuaded him to share the details. Have you heard of the Longstrain widows?”
An image flashed in Lily’s mind: Amber Longstrain stabbing Zane in the leg with a poison-tipped dagger. And a moment later, Lily kicking her in the face. “I believe I’ve heard of them. Terrors of the Gamlond Sea, right?”
Caleb nodded. “That’s them. Terror of every captain who sails it, too. According to our captive friend, the widows are working together. Planning something big.”
“As I told you earlier,” Jacob said, “that’s impossible. The widows don’t work together.”
Lily remembered how the widows had banded together to search for Zane in all the taverns, but again she bit her lip.
Caleb said, “Historically, that seems to be the case. But this could be the exception.”
“At least according to our oh-so-trustworthy source,” Jacob said. When Caleb didn’t respond, Jacob turned to Lily. “We’re sending Caleb and some of the King’s Guard to investigate the man’s claims. Since I’m going to be tied up with the negotiations with Tavel, the king has asked that you accompany his Sword in my place.”
Lily couldn’t hide the smile that leapt to her face. She was being given a real assignment, and it wasn’t tracking down some two-bit thief, either. It was a matter of consequence. And, the king had asked for her personally. She hadn’t been this excited since the first time Zane allowed her to accompany him in the field. “So what’s their plan? Where are we going?”
Jacob waved away her questions. “Time is of the essence. Caleb will explain on the way. And, Lily?” He held up a chastising finger. “You are going along in a support role. Caleb will serve as your commanding officer. Do whatever he asks, and no more, understand?”
Lily nodded. “I understand. I’ll follow orders.”
“Good. I’ve prepared you a collection of magical devices from the armory. They’re waiting in your room. Stay safe. I trust we’ll be celebrating your successful return in no time.”
Caleb rose and motioned for her to follow.
When they had left Jacob’s study and were safely down an empty hallway, Lily grabbed Caleb’s shoulders and shoved him against the wall. He started to protest, but she silenced him with a kiss.
When she finally pulled away, a slow smile crossed his face. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that all morning,” he said.
She pressed herself against him and grinned. “Do you realize I just promised my mentor I would unquestioningly follow your orders? I am completely at your mercy.”
Caleb said, “This should be a very interesting trip.”
He leaned down and kissed her.
CHAPTER TWO
Zane knew something was wrong the moment he opened the door and walked into his house. He couldn’t identify what had set him on alert. Nothing seemed to be out of place. There were no telltale noises or shadows. For a moment, he thought maybe it was Lily, come back either to visit him and make amends or to kill him and reclaim her place as a ferox.
But, of course, that wasn’t possible. She had given up any chance of ever becoming a ferox when she’d joined the Abditus Society, just as he’d given up any chance of becoming an abditus when he’d become a ferox. The Societies didn’t easily forget when someone quit their ranks, and they never forgave.
He’d given up hope that he’d ever make amends with her. And maybe that was for the best. He’d turned her into a killer, and she’d likely never forgive him for it. She needed to move on with her life, and that was understandable. Once or twice, he’d considered visiting her, just to talk and clear the air, to apologize for putting her in the position that had forced her to kill Beth Farns, but it wasn’t his place. She’d been the one who’d left; for him to pursue her would be a disrespectful intrusion.
He’d sought out news of her progress. He’d been impressed when she graduated from the Abditus Academy in less than a year. He casually asked other ferox to pass him any Lily-related news, so he’d heard about how she was making waves in court, impressing all the right people. He kept up with her as best he could, but he never contacted her.
Today, Zane was returning home after a job on the western outskirts of Barnes. He’d been hired to kill a man who had maintained a monopoly on the tobacco trade in the city for years through fear and intimidation. Zane had gotten the job done, but it hadn’t been clean. It had come down to a fight, and the tobacco baron had been a big, swarthy gentleman with experience in the boxing ring. He’d somehow managed to get the jump on Zane, and the ferox had taken a few good blows to the head and body before he’d managed to regain the advantage. Now his ribs ached, and there was a ringing in his ears. Tomorrow would be much worse. He intended to have a few stiff drinks tonight and sleep until the worst of the soreness was gone. One of the benefits of living alone was no one gave him any grief if he wanted to sleep all day.
Zane was three steps into the house when he identified what had set off his mental warning. There was a smell. It was faint, but it was there. And now that he’d detected it, he was able to identify the likely intruder. He drew his sword and moved quickly and quietly through the house, searching room by room.
He found her in his study. The sharp tang of sea salt was heavy in the air here, softened with just a hint of lavender. She sat in one of the chairs, the one he usually favored, as if she were an invited guest. Her shock of red hair stood in sharp contrast to the green upholstery.
“What are you doing here?” he asked through gritted teeth.
Amber Longstrain smirked at him. “Relax. I’m not here to kill you.”
“Lucky thing,” he said, still holding the sword in front of him. “That usually doesn’t go well for you.”
“How’s the leg?” she asked.
“Fine,” he said. That was a lie. It still hurt sometimes. The pain came unexpectedly and with no discernible pattern. It often seemed to strike at the worst possible time.
“I’m surprised amputation wasn’t necessary. You must have identified the poison quickly. I’m impressed.”
It had been Lily who’d identified the poison and prepared the treatment, but he wasn’t about to get into the details with this pirate. “Why are you here, Amber?”
She held up her hands, an innocent look on her face. “I imagine the same reason most people come here. I’d wager a man in your position doesn’t get a lot of social visits. I can relate.” She leaned forward and smiled. “I’d like to hire you.”
He waited a beat and let it sink in, not sure that he’d heard correctly. When he finally convinced himself his ears had not deceived him, he said, “That’s not going to happen.”
She smiled thinly. “I think I can convince you otherwise. I believe you’ll be intrigued by what I have to say.” She held up a cloth sack and shook it, making the coins inside jingle. “Payment first, isn’t that how this works? Take my money and listen to my story. What’s the harm? You can turn me down afterwards.”
He paused. A big part of him wanted to grab her and toss her out the window. He was offended by her audacity, coming here to hire him after she and her sister-captains had spent the last twelve years trying to kill him.
And yet, there was another part of him that was curious. Things had been routine, of late. Ever since Lily left, if he were being honest. His work had been challenging at times, but it felt more like a slog than it ever had before. He’d began wondering why he was still doing it and how long he’d keep at it. He had enough money to live comfortably for the rest of his life. Maybe he should retire while he still could, before the job killed him.
But he didn�
�t. Because he longed for that spark of excitement he used to feel. Maybe it was foolish, but he was chasing the feeling. He’d begun to think he might never experience it again. But hearing Amber Longstrain say she wanted to hire him made him feel something.
“Thirty thrones,” he said. “Payment up front, like you said. You tell me about the job, and either I’ll accept it or I won’t. But I keep the money either way.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I heard it was twenty-five.”
“Thirty is the people-who’ve-stabbed-me price.”
She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out another handful of gold coins. Zane’s eyes widened. How rich was this woman? She counted out five thrones, dropped them into the bag, and then set the bag on the table.
She gestured to the empty chair across from her. “Now that I’ve bought a bit of your time, care to sit?”
He lowered himself into the chair, folded his hands across his lap, and waited.
“It’s difficult to know where to begin,” she said.
Normally, he would provide some prompt or ask a few questions to get the conversation started, but he didn’t feel like making things easy on her. He just waited quietly.
“My sister-captains and I have a meeting each year,” she said. “It’s in a secret location, don’t ask. And the dates vary. We have to be careful, you understand. With the bounties on our heads, plenty of mercenaries would love to catch us together. Any one of us would bring a handsome prize, but all of us…one could buy a small castle with the reward.
“It’s a rowdy affair, even by pirate standards. We drink and gamble for each other’s best crew members. We bring our most attractive young pirates to trade and share with our sisters. We exchange memories of Henry and curse the bastard who killed him.” She smirked at that. “But the true purpose of the gathering is to plan the routes for the following year.”
“The routes?” Zane asked. He couldn’t help himself.
“Aye. Can’t have twenty pirate ships all stalking the same trade route at the same time. There’s no profit in that, besides the fact that we’d all get ourselves strung up. So we plot it out. So-and-so ship gets the Tavel passage in early spring, another in late fall. You understand?”
Zane nodded.
“It gets complicated. And more than a little heated. Not all routes are created equal, savvy? And each captain has her reasoning as to why her crew should get the choice spots. Blood has been spilled at these meetings, some of it by me, I’m not too proud to admit. If you ever meet my sister-captain Roslin, ask her what happened to her eye. She’ll lie, but it’ll be enjoyable to see the look on her face.”
“So that’s the job?” Zane asked. Normally he waited, let them tell their stories at their own pace, but he felt like pushing Amber. “You want me to kill you one of your fellow captains? Help you get the best pillaging route?”
“No! I would never…” A shadow passed over her face as if she were reconsidering her statement mid-sentence. “The thing to understand is these meetings always go the same way. They start out as a revel, drinking, gambling, everyone one big happy family. After a few days, the hangovers set in hard and the negotiations begin. By the time the routes are divvied up, we all hate each other. But, we go off and have a year to cool down before the next meeting, when the cycle repeats itself. It’s always the same.”
Zane had heard enough of these types of stories to make a guess where this was going. “Except this time it wasn’t.”
She nodded solemnly. “Everything was going according to schedule until the negotiations began. I wanted to start out strongly, so I suggested my crew take the early spring run on the southeast quadrant of Gamlond Channel. It was a ridiculous opening, and I knew it. It’s the best route at the best time. Practically every wave seems to bring another ship loaded with spices from the Crags. I figured I would get them all riled up about that route before graciously agreeing to take the second best slot while they all fought and squabbled over the first one. If things went the way I hoped, it would give my crew the best return without bargaining away my soul to get it.” She leaned forward on the edge of the chair and looked Zane in the eye. “But the strangest thing happened. They agreed to let me have the best route. There was a bit of bickering, but I could tell it was for show. In fact, no one seemed to care what route they got for the early spring run.”
Zane scratched his chin. “What does that mean? What would make them not care?”
She leaned back and smiled. “My question exactly. So I traded a few of my crew onto some of my sister-captain’s ships with the understanding that they’d report back. It didn’t turn out that way for those boys. It wasn’t a month before each and every one of them turned up dead due to some accident or another.”
Zane said, “So there’s treachery among pirates. Doesn’t exactly sound like shocking news so far.”
Amber scowled. “Perhaps you don’t understand us as well as you think. We all learned our trade from the same man, and we all learned his code. Aye, we’ll slit each other’s throats in the heat of an argument, and we’ll fight just to find out who’s best at it, but plotting and teaming up against one of our own sister-captains? It just isn’t done. So I kept investigating. I hired outside operators this time, old sea-dogs in harbor towns up and down the coast to report to me about my sister-captain’s movements. Before long, I heard tell of a meeting betwixt the rest of them down south in Morven. And according to my source, there was a man there. A man who was leading the proceedings. A man they all deferred to. And my source identified this man. She’d never met him in life, but she’d seen paintings, the kind that hang in barrooms up and down the coast. The kind of paintings pirates toast to acknowledge he was the best of them before taking their first sip of the night.”
Zane felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. If this was going where he thought it was going, Amber was either doing a pathetic job of trying to trick him or she was insane.
“So I kept investigating,” Amber said. “Next thing I heard was a report of a man traveling with Petra. And the source said she was deferring to this man almost as if he were the captain and she were nothing more than his first mate.”
“Amber,” Zane said, “what you’re suggesting is impossible. I was there. He’s dead.”
“Is he?” Amber snapped back. “You were there, aye. And you felt for his pulse? You watched them bury his body?”
She knew he hadn’t, so he didn’t respond.
“After that, I had no more reports of my sister-captains showing up at any of their usual haunts. It was as if they’d gone ashore and disappeared. The trail’s gone cold. But I know they’re planning something. And, from the way they wanted me in the southeast Gamlond in early spring, I know it will happen soon. But I need to know what they’re planning. And, if he is back, why he left me out of it.”
“Amber,” he said softly, “what’s the job? Who do you want me to kill?”
She laughed a shrill laugh at that. “Kill? I don’t want you to kill anyone. I didn’t want you to kill him the first time. You’re more than an assassin, aren’t you? Don’t the ferox find things?”
He nodded.
“Then I want you to find him,” she said. “I want you to find Henry Longstrain.”
CHAPTER THREE
The city of Morven was a squat thing that seemed to be constructed mostly of scrap wood, perhaps the remains of ships destroyed and washed ashore after attempting to enter the narrow harbor. Only a few years ago, this would have seemed a sprawling metropolis to Lily, but living in the capital city of Langton had changed her perspective. She now saw Morven for what it truly was: a collection of ramshackle homes and businesses that primarily existed to cater to the sailors temporarily docked in the harbor. The wealthy leaders of the shipping industry lived far away from here, many of them in the fashionable and elegant city of Arrow to the south.
It was the laborers that lived in Morven, not the profits.
Such places gave rise to the p
ublic display of things that would be shrouded in a bit more propriety in other places. There were men smoking yarish root out in the open on the street; Lily watched them clawing at the air and huddling on the ground as the hallucinogenic effects took hold. There were brothels that did little to disguise their purpose; women draped in thin, flowing fabric stood in the doorways, trying to lure in clientele with lurid suggestions.
And something else: pirates.
These were a bit more difficult to pick out unless you knew what to look for. The only pirates Lily had ever seen were the ones she’d fought in the tavern in Barnes, but Zane had told her how to spot them. Many of them had the telltale image of a swallow in flight tattooed on their shoulder or neck, which was said to signify their freedom from the laws of dry land. Others walked in groups, all of them with odd, matching hairstyles, no doubt ordered by their captains as shows of loyalty.
Lily and Caleb rode their horses through the street. Unlike most cities, the pedestrians here didn’t immediately give way to riders. They walked in straight lines, daring the riders to divert from their paths or run them down. Caleb took the lead, and he wasn’t one to divert from his path. The pedestrians always moved in the end.
When Lily asked about it, Caleb said, “The people here haven’t seen a noble in decades. That’s part of what makes this place so attractive to unsavory characters. Duke Quintson is the hands-off type, and his family home is a good two-days’ ride. That’s his excuse, anyway. Personally, I think he’s afraid to show his face.” He turned in the saddle and grinned back at her. “I don’t know who’d be first in line to string him up, the pirates or the few remaining lawful citizens.”
They moved their horses through the streets, passing increasingly seedy shops the further into town they went. Caleb stopped in front of an especially shabby-looking establishment. He said, “Wait here,” and hopped off his horse.
Lily waited on her horse, breathing deeply of the seaside air. They were only a block from the ocean now, and she saw the masts of ships towering over the squat roofs in front of her. She’d been to sea exactly once, but, according to Caleb’s plan, she’d soon be aboard another ship. Caleb and Lily had spent much of the trip here discussing the plan. He’d genuinely wanted her input. It was one of the things she loved about him; he respected her ability to think strategically.