The Wrath of a Shipless Pirate (The Godlanders War) (13 page)

C
orin spent the morning making contact with his old acquaintances. It wasn’t hard. He picked a dockside tavern, almost at random, took a table in the corner, then sat and waited. Within half an hour, word had spread, and sailors from his past started dropping by. Yesterday’s encounter at the
Espinola
was the talk of the town, and it seemed like everyone wanted a chance to shake his hand, thank him for chasing the wretches out of town, and perhaps glean a bit of truth from all the rumors.

Corin let the rumors stand. He held hard to his claim that he’d stopped Tommy’s heart with a touch of his hand. A lie like that could sometimes serve a man better than cold steel, so he protected Aemilia’s secrets and fabricated some of his own. It was a double victory.

His real intention, though, was to find crews for any of Taker’s men still stuck in town. He was surprised to learn how many of them had responded to his threat. More than a hundred men had booked passage yesterday, some at enormous rates once word got around, but there were those who’d been too stupid to skim from the plundered booty, too poor now to pay their way, and by and large those were the same men who’d shown some sense of guilt for their betrayal.

Even lacking that, Corin had no wish to see two men left toget
her fro
m Taker’s old crew. He would spread them to the winds. So now he asked around and traded favors, paid for some and
bartered
for others, and most he managed on nothing more than his swollen reputation. In three and a half hours he found stable work for two score of rotten pirates, and by noon he was already bored again.

Shortly after lunch a new messenger arrived at the Nimble Fingers tavern. This one came from another postal stop along the road to Ithale. Apparently, Francois had ridden hard throughout the night, and he insisted he would do the same again. By the innkeeper’s calculations, the man might already be at the border, and by tomorrow they could have word from northwest Ithale. From Nicia by the weekend.

That gave Corin hope, but alas, there was no actual intelligence to report. There would be more once he reached Ithale—the Nimble Fingers there were much better organized—but it chafed at Corin’s heart to have to wait.

He spent an hour playing cards with Josef, Charlie, and the innkeeper. Then Charlie Claire excused himself to take a nap, and the other three spent another hour or two talking business. They discussed the Nimble Fingers organization, and Corin made some recommendations that could easily make Marzelle’s the finest chapter anywhere in Raentz.

But all the while, Corin’s mind was drifting. He felt the hours sloshing past like breakers on the shore, rising up to tower over him, full of promise, then smashing at his feet as so much froth. His fingers itched. He had somewhere to be.

Night brought no news from Francois, and still no visit from the druid. Corin went out for a walk, searching every common room, every busy street corner, for any sign of Aemilia. He went back to the docks and spent two hours buying beer for sailors newly arrived from distant ports. Some of them had heard of Ethan Blake, but none of them could tell Corin his true name or what town he now called home.

Heading back to the shady tavern, Corin cut down through empty alleys every chance he got, just hoping he might crash into Aemilia again. He never did. He spent another sleepless night, then rose at dawn and headed back across the town to see if any new sailors had come in with the tide.

Exhaustion drove him back to the shady tavern early in the afternoon. He announced himself with a knock on the door,
nodded
absently to Josef as he went past, and then scanned the room for messengers and thousand-year-old ladies. It was depressingly deficient.

“Any news?” he asked the innkeeper.

“Have patience, Captain. It is a long road.”

“Longer than you know.” Corin sighed. “I’m going to my room. If you hear the sound of things breaking, send up rum.”

The man looked a little more alarmed than necessary at Corin’s quip, but Corin didn’t feel like soothing him. He slunk away, down the hall and up the stairs, and then let himself into the modest room.

Aemilia waited by the window. She didn’t turn when Corin entered, so he took his time addressing her. He shed his cloak and unbuckled the sword belt, then collapsed onto his bed and lay there staring at the water-damaged ceiling. For a while, he just breathed.

At last, he pushed up on one elbow and asked, “Well, are you going to join me here or what?”

She rounded on him, unamused. “This is no time for joking, Corin Hugh. Our destiny hangs in the balance—and yours more than most.”

Corin quirked an eyebrow. “And? What’s the verdict?”

“Six to one against.”

“Against what?”

She came a step toward him. Her expression showed no sense of humor. “Preventive homicide.”

“Oh. Then I guess I won.” He breathed a moment more, then frowned, “Were you the one?”

Just a hint of a smile. “I was not.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“You haven’t heard the details yet. You will not like the details.”

“I haven’t liked much since killing Tommy Day. Tell me anyway.”

She came to stand at the foot of his bed, staring down at him. There was pity in her plain brown eyes, but no compromise. “You’re going to have to come in. The Council wouldn’t budge. You cannot be allowed to run the risk—”

He growled at her like a cornered animal. “I already said—”

“And I repeated everything you said. I argued for you, Corin. What do you think took so long? But this is a chance we’ll never have again. This is a final gift from Oberon. This is an
opportunity to
—”

“No! This is my life,” he said, unyielding. She flinched at the severity of his tone, and he regretted that. But he did not relent. “It’s not up for discussion.”

She sank down on the end of the bed and stared at her hands in her lap. “This is not imprisonment. Far from it.”

“But you would bring me in? You would restrict my movements?”

“For your own protection! And it’s not
that
bad. There are some special luxuries among the druid circles. It’s certainly far more comfortable than
…
this.”

“I don’t ask for comfort. I ask for freedom.”

“You will have it. And you’ll offer it to millions of other lives. Can you imagine that? If you make good on what you’ve promised, you will offer a new kind of liberty to all the sons and daughters of the Godlands.”

“If I do as I am told? If I bow and scrape before the druid council?”

She closed her eyes. “It’s not like that. We’re not like that. You claimed you met some of us in the past. You knew about the Council.”

“Aye. And I helped Jeff and Delaen save you from Ephitel. Do you know what happened next?”

She shook her head. “No. The timelines were divergent.”

“So you said. But I will tell you now. Jeff and Delaen
scampered
off like rats and left me and the Violets to face Ephitel and a hundred of his men.”

“But you’ve admitted that was not the real—”

“It was real enough to me,” Corin said. “And you
…
” He trailed off, almost smiling in spite of himself. “You are so much like the you I met in Oberon’s dream. And honestly, your
organization
doesn’t seem much different either. They’ll do what they deem best according to the strictures, and woe befall the
manling
caught up in the works.”

“That isn’t fair. We’ve given our lives to serve the sons and daughters.”

“And now you’re ready to give mine.” Corin shook his head. “I told you my terms. They’re not negotiable.”

She sighed and met his eyes. “As it happens, I have not come to negotiate. I came to warn you.”

Corin blinked. “Warn me?”

“Indeed. The Council voted to detain you. They have
extraordinary
means.”

Corin’s lip curled in a snarl. “They’re not the only ones.”

“Please, Corin. I shouldn’t even be here, but I came to ask—”

He cut her off. “Will you help me, Aemilia? Are you truly my friend? Will you help me evade them?”

For a moment she said nothing. Then she gave a tiny shake of her head. “I can’t.”

He leaned toward her. “I’m not asking for a big betrayal or a life on the run. I’m only asking for a brief diversion and a bit of information.”

“Why?”

“I have to get to Ethan Blake. More than one life depends o
n i
t.”

“Oh.” She looked away. “The girl you love?”

Corin shook his head sharply. “I don’t love her. I never
…
why do people keep saying that?”

Aemilia gave him a quiet smile. “It shows when you talk about her.”

“I don’t love her! I owe a debt, and I take that personally.”

She watched him for a moment, saying nothing. Then she shrugged. “Sure. I did tell them about her. Perhaps there’s
something
we can do.”

“I can’t trust this in someone else’s hands. And I owe Ethan Blake more than you’d be willing to give him.”

“That’s precisely
why
we need to bring you in! Can’t you see? You’re talking about a war with the Vestossis!”

“Just one.”

“There’s no such thing as just one Vestossi! And war with the Vestossis is war with Ephitel.”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

“Yes! On our terms. You said yourself that we have the advantage of surprise. Will you squander that to kill some wretched little man?”

Corin opened his mouth to answer, but he couldn’t. Not right away. It only made him angrier. “There’s
…
no. No, but
…
Listen, we will still have the advantage. If I slaughter Ethan Blake, will Ephitel really come after me over one stinking, worthless cousin?”

“His authority is built on the threat of power. He will leap at the opportunity. I’m surprised that you don’t know this of him.”

Corin hung his head. “I do. Then let us make a trap of it.”

“You see? That’s a brilliant plan. That’s why we should work together. Come back to the circles.”

Corin met her eyes. “How long will it take them? How long will they dither? How long will they make me prove myself?”

She licked her lips. “It is not so bad as that.”

“How long?”

She didn’t answer.

Corin smiled, lips pressed tight. “I appreciate your honesty. That’s why I’m asking you this favor.”

She wrung her hands, trembling. “I cannot defy the strictures!”

“But you can delay. Surely you can delay. Lose track of me for a moment. That’s all it really takes.”

“And then what?”

“I’ll disappear. They can’t blame you for that. I am a sneaky scoundrel. I only really need three days of liberty. Maybe four, depending on where he is. Find the rodent for me and step aside, and I’ll deliver myself to your Council when the week is done.”

“If you are still alive.”

There was a touch of real concern in her voice. Not for the world, not for the druids’ plans, but for Corin himself. It stunned him for a moment, and then he snorted dismissively to cover his surprise. “I’ve tangled with Blake’s sort before. Gods’ blood, I’ve tangled with him. He thinks he’s lightning with a sword, but I am not looking for a duel. I will settle him and then I’ll melt into the shadows. Let them look for me then. Let even Ephitel come after me. He will not find me.”

“You’re something, Corin Hugh. Such confidence
…
”

He shook his head. “Experience. I’ve been doing this since I was still a child. Please, Aemilia. Give me a name. Tell me where he is. Then turn your back for but a moment. That’s all I ask of you.”

“So you can go do murder.”

“For the greater good,” he insisted. “And in exchange for this small mercy, I
…
I will bow to your Council. Think how many millions of lives you could benefit by bending this one small rule.”

She shook her head, an admiring smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You are a force of nature.”

“I am justice dressed in black.” Then Corin saw something in her eyes and grinned outright. “Storm’s fury, you have his name already, don’t you? You tracked him down while you were with the Council. Tell me. Say it’s true.”

“I
…
did not come to send you after Blake. But I did bring another offer.”

“You think I am so easily distracted?”

She smirked. “Like a ship in a gale.”

“Oh! You wound me!” But then he hesitated. He rolled his eyes. “Oh, very well. What’s this other offer?”

“I want to try to teach you how to work a glamour.”

“This is more dream magic?”

“Yes. It is a power specifically conferred by Oberon, so if he did not share it with you—”

“He gave me dreamwalking and sampling. I can’t imagine he restricted that.”

“We’ll learn in just a moment. And if it works,” she heaved a hopeful sigh, “it might just keep you alive a little longer.”

“It warms my heart to know you care.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but she was smiling. “It isn’t hard to do,” she said. “If you can, I mean. The dream itself does all the heavy lifting. You just
…
sort of
…
ask it to pretend you’re someone else.”