The Wrath of a Shipless Pirate (The Godlanders War) (28 page)

The window ledge was wide and empty, no glass separating the room from the three-story drop outside. But there was light enough, by moon and stars, to aid Corin in his quest. He saw papers, loose on the writing desk, a leather envelope, a locking drawer. But then he spotted the battered footlocker tucked into a corner, and he dismissed the rest.

It was all of iron, and Corin felt a sudden grim recognition. Three exquisite locks stood side by side in its top. It was the same model Dave Taker had used to firebomb the smuggler’s ship with Auric trapped below.

Corin cursed. He couldn’t break those locks. Not in any
useful
time. Not with Blake downstairs and guards out in the hall. But in his heart he knew—he
knew
—this would be the chest that Blake trusted to preserve Sera’s letter. Corin knelt over it,
running
his fingers over the locks, but it was no use. He’d tried when it was Auric’s life in the balance, and nothing he had learned since then would aid him here.

While he was kneeling there, a new light, warm and golden, washed across the surface of the chest. Too late he spun around, raised a hand to shade his eyes, and stared past a glowing candle at Aemilia. Corin heaved a grateful sigh. “Praise Fortune,” he whispered, “it’s only you.”

She came forward, lowering the candle and shaking her head. “It’s so unsettling the way you do that.”

“Do what?”

“See through my glamours. My heart stops every time.”

“You near enough stopped mine. What are you doing here?”

“Ben sent me. He charmed a serving girl into sharing her secrets. Somehow. I didn’t ask.”

“Smart of you.”

She gaped. “Truly? We’ve only been here half an hour.”

“He
is
an artist.”

She puffed out a breath and shook her head. “She told him Blake keeps a study up here.”

“And you thought it would be wise to just come traipsing up? How’d you avoid the guards?”

“I didn’t.” She did a little twirl. “I traded my glamour for the serving girl’s. She does the grates.”

“The grates?” Corin said, his gaze flashing to the smoldering coals in the fireplace. A grin tugged at his lips. “I will call you my muse, Aemelia.”

“You’re the artist now?”

“I dare to say it. Aye. But I’m afraid I’ll need a little help.”

“With what?”

He nodded to the iron lockbox. This one stuffed with
letters
was not as heavy as the one Dave Taker had loaded up with dwarven powder, but still it took them both to lift it. They
lumbered
four hard paces, then set it down among the burning coals. Corin flapped his cloak above them to stir a little life, and all the while he grinned.

Only then did Aemilia ask questions. Breathing hard, she nodded to the chest. “Does that contain—”

“The letter,” Corin said. “I’d bet my life on it.”

“Then we are done here! We can go.”

Corin shook his head. “I’d bet my life, perhaps, but not Sera’s. We’ve gotten lucky so far. There’s time enough for me to look around a little more.” He frowned. “But you and Ben have done all I asked of you. Go find him. Wait for me at the shady tavern.”

She licked her lips and stood her ground. “I won’t leave yo
u h
ere.”

He sighed. “These are dangerous waters. It’s no place for inexperienced hands. Trust me.”

“I do,” she said. “But I also made a promise. My fate is tied to yours.”

“We don’t have
time
for this!” he snapped. “Just go.”

“And you’ll
…
you’ll be safe?”

Corin nodded. “I always do pull through somehow. Find Ben for me, and get him out of here.”

She squeezed his hand, then turned and started for the door. She’d made it halfway there when another inspiration struck Corin. He leaped forward and caught her elbow. “Better yet! Be the princess now. Change your glamour,
then
go downstairs. Let the guards see you sneaking around up here. That will put the fear in him. But do
not
let them detain you.”

“Will they?”

“They shouldn’t. They should go report what they’ve seen to Blake. But if they try
…
you have the dartguns?”

She nodded. “Aye.”

He grinned at her. “Use them well.”

She closed her eyes. He watched her. Her forehead crinkled as she concentrated. Her lips moved soundlessly. Then her eyes opened, and she looked down at her ordinary clothes. “Such a lovely dress,” she whispered.

“We’ll make Sera buy you one of your own, once this is done. You’ve earned it.” He caught her hand and squeezed it, reassuring, then escorted her to the door. “Remember. Make a show. Be seen, but once they spot you, get away. I’ll handle all the rest.”

She hesitated at the doorway, still gripping Corin’s hand. She bit her bottom lip, a touch of mischief in her eyes. “Have we really done it? Have we really brought down a Vestossi lord.”

“I think we have,” Corin answered, full of optimism. And then his gaze slipped past the druid to the distant lantern bobbing down the hall. The silhouette behind the flare of light was not a hired guard. It was much too familiar.

“Gods’ blood, I spoke too soon. He’s here. He’s right behind you.”

A
emilia spun around, drawing the guns as she went. “Should I shoot him?”

Corin clapped one hand over her mouth and the other around her waist and dragged her back into the room. “No!” he hissed in her ear as he released her. “He hasn’t seen us yet. And I have a plan.”

“You have a plan? For this? Already?”

“I’m
…
making one. Just trust me.”

“What do I do?”

“Get out the window.”

“What? It’s a thirty-foot fall!’

“Well, don’t fall. You don’t have to hold yourself. Just get behind the curtain. Get invisible.” He darted back, but he didn’t have to glance down the corridor to see how close the light had come. “Just go! And make no sound!”

She’d already climbed onto the window ledge, and Corin felt a flash of fear when he saw her there. It was a narrow ledge and such a long fall. He stepped close to her and tipped his forehead against hers. “It’s almost over. I swear it.”

“I trust you.”

He breathed out heavily. Then he stepped back and let the curtain fall to hide her.

He caught his breath.

When he turned, Ethan Blake was standing in the doorway. He had the lantern in one hand and a bare rapier in the other.

“I thought you preferred a cutlass,” Corin said.

“Oh, the times have changed. Haven’t you heard? I am a
gentleman
now.”

“Someone said as much, and I called him a liar.”

“Funny,” Blake said, coming into the room. “Someone told me you were come back from the dead, and I was smart enough to believe him.”

“Not smart enough to act on it, though. You should have r
un aw
ay.”

“Run away? From a pirate without a ship? Without a crew? What’s there to fear?”

“I have a princess.”

Blake chuckled. “That’s an empty threat. I have a—” His eyes cut to the corner where the lockbox had been, and his throat closed up. His face went pale.

Corin gestured to the fireplace. “You have char paper and tinder, if you’re lucky.”

Blake dashed toward the fire, but before he’d made it halfway Corin had his sword in his hand. He lashed it out, within an inch of Blake’s face, before the other man pulled up.

“Be careful of your choices, Corin Hugh. We’re not pirates on the lawless seas anymore. You know that, right? I am a Vest
ossi lor
d.”

“You’re bilgewater.”

“It doesn’t matter what you think of me. It’s who I am. Do you think a man can just cut down a Vestossi and walk away? Any man? You’d have a nation hunting you. Ephitel himself might come for you.”

“Not over you. They wouldn’t waste the effort.”

Blake flashed a smile, but the rage behind his eyes was barely contained. “You don’t understand. It’s a matter of precedent. No one wants the common folk to think there’s
any
sufficient reason to spill Vestossi blood. It’s a matter of principle.”

“I’m not concerned with their opinions,” Corin said. “I’ve come to make you pay for all your crimes.”

“That’s a righteous sentiment coming from a thieving pirate.”

“There are rules, Blake. There are limits, and you have crossed them all.”

“And what is it I’ve done to so offend you? Mutiny? But what’s a man without ambition? You’d have done the same.”

“You left me to die.”

“But look at you! Storming seas, you look better than ever.”

“You burned Jezeeli. Do you have any idea what was written in those books?”

“I had no choice. It was the only way to—”

“That’s not the worst you’ve done. By far. You killed a good man, Blake.”

He frowned, thinking. “I’ll need more than that. I kill a lot of good men. Did you hear about the justicar?”

Corin showed his teeth. “I mean Auric.”

“What, the farmboy? Of all the claims you have against me, you would bring up some nameless Raentzman?”

“You might at least show some remorse.”

“I wouldn’t even know how to fake it, I’m afraid. One of the great joys of coming home is I don’t have to try. It’s good to be Vestossi.”

Corin turned his sword so that the firelight danced along its edge. “You don’t seem to recognize the intention I have for this sharp blade.”

Blake shook his head. “I’m not afraid. I know you, Corin Hugh. It’s not ambition that drives you, though all the gods know you have ambition. No, it’s freedom. You long to have the freedom to do anything your heart desires.”

“Right now, my heart only desires one thing, Blake.”

“That doesn’t worry me. Desires change just like the tide. Just like the summer winds. One moment you’re rushing up the shore, straining hard against your boundaries, and then things change. That’s the key. When things change, perhaps you’ll be prepared to run the other way.”

“Nothing changes. You know what I’ve come for.”

“I do. You’ve come for satisfaction. You resent some of the things I’ve done, and you suspect a little bloodletting will make things right. It won’t. It never really does. But I believe I can appease you through other means. You see
…
I’ve recently lost my first lieutenant.”

“Dave Taker? Aye. He’s dead.”

Blake frowned. “Not quite. Not yet. But when my men track him down—”

“Unless they’re looking in the bottom of the sea, they’re not going to find him. That wasn’t Taker in the bathhouse.”

Blake showed a more genuine grin this time. “You see? You prove my very point. You are resourceful, and I am in need of a man of resources.”

“I’m not interested in working for you.”

“Not for me. For all Ithale! The fleet needs a new admiral. That’s more than freedom—that’s command!”

“I’ve had command.”

“Of a petty pirate ship. I’m offering you an armada.”

Corin snarled. “I don’t want it, Blake.”

“You may not like the alternative.”

“I know
you
won’t.”

Blake barked a bitter laugh and shook his head. “You don’t get to kill me, Corin. That’s the part you’re missing. What you came here for
…
that’s not an option. I have already explained. I’m not some mutinous scalawag now; I am a Vestossi lord. I have but to raise my voice and two dozen of my guards will fall up
on yo
u.”

“And yet you ramble on.”

“Because I don’t want you dead. I’ve already tried that route, and it proved unprofitable. You have potential.”

“Auric had potential.”

“The farmboy again? Storming seas, why are you so obsessed with him?”

“Why did you have him killed?”

“Because it pleased my sensibilities. Because I could. As I told you, I am a Vestossi lord. If you’re looking for a better
reason
, you won’t find it.”

“He might have changed the world. Were you afraid of him? Or did you do it to hurt Sera?”

“Afraid? Of a common Raentzman? No. I detested him. If you must know the truth, I loathed the very thought of his filthy common blood mingling with my family’s purity.”

“And what of your family? Now you’ve abducted Sera, and you mean to kill her come morning.”

Blake raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Forget about the admiralty; I’ll make you master of my spies.”

“Why?” Corin snapped. “Why would you go after Sera?”

Blake shook his head, baffled. “She is in line to be the queen of all Ithale. And she meant to marry that farmer.”

“He went to the Wildlands to earn himself a name.”

“A name cannot be earned! A common man cannot become noble.”

Corin scoffed. “You can’t believe that. There’s nothing noble in your house. But Auric was a good man.”

“He’s better dead and so is she! All Ithale will be better off for it.”

“Those are treacherous words, Blake. You should be ashamed
.”

“Ashamed? I speak them proudly! They’re the decisions of a statesman.”

“You’re proud of all your sins. You’re proud you played the pirate Ethan Blake.”

“I was a better pirate pretending than you ever were while giving it your all.”

“You’re proud you conspired against Princess Sera?”

“Who does not conspire against her?’

“You’re proud you murdered a justicar aboard the
Diavahl
?”

“A master stroke. It was perhaps my finest hour.”

“And you killed Ezio in his loyal service to you, just to tie up your loose ends.”

“It is the way of kings. At the rate I’m going—”

“You aspire so high?”

“I do. And that aspiration could benefit from a clever right-hand man. If you want the part.”

“I’d rather nail you to the wall,” Corin said. “But I will not. I will refrain.”

“Oh?”

“Indeed.”

“But you won’t take me on my offer?”

Corin shook his head. “No chance.”

“Then you leave me no other choice—”

“But to call the guards?”

He shrugged, disappointed. “It seems such a common end for such a storied rogue.”

“And one I think you would regret.”

“Only a little.”

“You misunderstand me,” Corin said. “You would not regret what they did to me, but what they did to you.”

“Me? How?”

“Because I am not alone.”

Blake blinked at him, and Corin let his grin escape. “It’s true.” He sheathed his sword. “While you stood here prattling on about all the wretched things you’ve done,”—Corin went to the window and caught the heavy curtains in one hand—“confessing
proudly
heinous acts unfitting of a noble lord, you didn’t know you were in the presence of a most charming eavesdropper.”

He ripped the curtain aside to reveal Aemilia, seated on the window ledge. Her eyes shot wide, her hands went white-
knuckled
where she gripped the windowsill, but Blake could not have seen that from across the room. Corin stepped aside and revealed her with a flourish.

“Don Giuliano de Vestossi, may I introduce Her Royal Highness, Sera de Vestossi. I am afraid she is no longer in your gentle custody. And she
may
have heard your every word.”