Cutlass (22 page)

“Usually, when pirates attack, they send a warning shot—a cannon. Because of the way Conn is fashioned, it is unlikely that pirates would be able to raid. A cannon would destroy the first building, creating a barrier between the attackers and the rest of the island.”

Barren looked around uneasily.

“Well, Conn is in one piece...they must not have much trouble with pirates,” said Larkin.

“No,” agreed Cove. “But then again, pirates are not the only ones with cannons.”

The crew continued, forward, entering another causeway. Finally, they came to the end of the island and the last brick building. It was probably the shabbiest of them all—broken windows were scattered randomly across the front. Parts of the building were black from age. Stone stairs, chipped and crumbling, led to a weatherworn door, stripped of paint. The pirates looked up at the building and cringed.

“I don’t think anyone lives here at all,” said Cove.

“‘E’s on the third floor,” said Alex. He took a step forward.

“Are you sure this is safe?” asked Larkin.

Alex looked back at her. “No, but we look pretty suspicious just standin’ out ‘ere starin’ at this place.”

Alex made his way up the stairs, and pushed in the rickety door. As the pirates entered the building, the smell of mildew hit their noses. Furniture still crowded the entryway and living room; old rugs covered the dusty floor. It looked as if nothing was out of place, even the cobwebs hung undisturbed. Many of the windows were painted black, so the only light that greeted them were the bits that peeked in through the chipped panes. Alex didn’t pay attention to the look of the place; he had eyes only for the stairs, and hurried up them. The company followed, only slower, because as they moved over the steps, they creaked beneath their feet, worn and warped.

“I don’t think anyone is here,” said Larkin.

“People are ‘ere,” said Alex. “They are just hidin’.”

The silence was deafening. If anyone was here, they were dead.

The third floor was just as lifeless as the rest of the building, except that the air was warmer, and the smells were stronger—spice and sweat hit their noses. The hall was filled with dust and cobwebs, and the walls were covered with peeling patterned paper—dark green with pink flowers. Alex hurried to the end of the hall and knocked on one of the many doors. There was no answer.

Barren stepped forward and withdrew a small knife from his boot, jamming it into the lock. The door swung open.

“I bet this isn’t what you expected to find,” said Barren.

The room had been ransacked. Nothing was left unbroken—wooden pieces from chairs and tables were everywhere, the windows were shattered and glass covered the floor. Barren stepped inside the room, looking around at the mess. Luckily, there was no body or blood—whoever had been here hadn’t killed Devon Kennings.

“Did William find him?” asked Larkin.

“We did lose three days,” Alex stated grimly, shifting garbage around with his cane.

“What do we do now?” asked Leaf.

Barren looked at Alex who was about to respond when an elderly man stumbled into the room. He was dressed in a tattered blue coat. A long white beard adorned his face, stained with alcohol.

“Ye lookin’ for Devon?” When he spoke, gold teeth were visible beneath his mustache.

“Yes,” said Barren, turning to him. “Who are you?”

“No need fer names, but there was some soldiers in ‘ere the other day. Took off with the ‘ole man. He gave ‘em a fight, but they took ‘em anyway. Trashed the place.”

“Did you recognize the men who took him? Were any of them from Maris?” Cove asked.

“They were all hooded. Didn’t fit in well with this crowd, I’d say.”

“Where’d they take him?” asked Barren.

“Well, I’d imagine Estrellas,” the old man leaned against the door. “That’s where they take all those fugitives.”

Estrellas was a fugitive island. It was where the islands of the Orient sent their worst criminals. To the pirates, it was known for its brutal forms of punishment.

“What’d they arrest him for?” asked Alex.

“He’s involved in piracy. Was part of Jess Reed’s crew, he was. Guess it came back to haunt him.” Barren turned again to look at the room. He didn’t want to listen to the man anymore—he could tell by the way the old drunk was speaking that his opinion of Jess Reed was not favorable. “What do you need with ‘em anyway?”

“That is none of your business,” Cove’s voice rang with authority, but the older man just looked amused and narrowed his eyes.

“
Yer
from the government…Arcarum, is it?”

“We do not want any trouble,” said Cove evenly—it was a warning that the man should leave.

“If yer walking around with Barren Reed, you do.”

Cove’s quickness surprised everyone. One moment, he was perfectly still, hands clasped behind his back, the next he had the man pushed against the wall, a knife at his throat. “You have two options: you tell no one you saw us, or you die. Which is it? And don’t think I won’t find out. I have spies everywhere. You speak, you die. Maybe not today, but keep in mind, I make no empty threats.”

The man seemed to consider Cove’s warning, but when the pressure increased around his neck, he wheezed, “I-I’ll tell no one.”

Cove relaxed his grip slightly and stood back. The old man glared at the Ambassador, rubbing his neck. “But make no mistake—pirates and politicians don’t mix. You’re either one or the other.”

This time Cove wasn’t giving him a chance. He lunged at the man, stabbing him through the stomach. “You sealed your fate.” He said through clenched teeth before pulling the blade out with a jerk.

Barren glanced at Larkin, wondering what she was thinking. She looked bewildered, as if what Cove had just done hadn’t quite sunk in yet. Barren had to admit, he was a little surprised himself. Cove could usually keep calm, but when it came to a threat against him or his crew, he wasn’t so patient. The Ambassador turned, pulled a white cloth out of his pocket, and cleaned the blood from his blade.

“He would have spoken up the moment we were out of sight,” he said, not looking at anyone as he worked.

“How do you know?” Larkin’s voice shook a little as she spoke.

“He voiced his opinion on pirates a moment before he fell,” said Cove. “He would have met his end sooner or later.”

“Why do you hide in that uniform if you’re going to act like them?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Barren demanded.

She ignored him and continued to stare at Cove. He, however, was completely calm and collected. “What would you have done, Larkin? Turned him over to the authorities here? Let him run and tell whomever may be within distance that Barren is in Conn and he is with the Ambassador of Arcarum? In this business, we have to choose whose life is worth saving and whose life is worth ending.”

Larkin looked horrified, so Barren stepped in quickly. “We should leave soon. There is nothing for us here. It would be beneficial if we could figure out whose soldiers took Devon.”

 The company made their way out of the building and back into the streets. They decided to split up and head for the ship, just in case anyone had noticed them in a pack. Cove and Hollow went one direction, Alex and Leaf disappeared down an alleyway and Barren and Larkin continued toward the markets, hoping to blend in with the sea of people who would be unfamiliar to this territory. The two pushed through the square easily, and with the ships in sight, they thought they were home free.

Larkin pulled on Barren’s arm and pushed him behind a tent. Peering out into the market from the shelter, she whispered, “It’s William. Looks like he just arrived.”

“What?” Barren stared in the direction she was looking and saw his brother in the crowd. He walked casually before carts of fruit—picking up an orange or an apple here and there, judging its quality. He seemed tense as he tried to maintain his composure, as if he were attempting to slow himself down, as if he didn’t want to appear suspicious.

Barren set his jaw, and he felt his eyes darken. He pulled off his jacket hurriedly, intending to fight.

“Barren, you cannot fight him,” Larkin snapped. “You’re injured. What if you can’t kill him?”

Barren glared at her. “I’ll be fine.”

“Barren, please don’t fight him!”

He studied her for a moment, repressing the anger he felt boiling in his stomach at seeing her plead for William’s life.

“Larkin, the one thing I won’t do for you is keep him alive.”

Her eyes grew dark. “This isn’t about him, it’s about you,” she snapped.

“I know what I’m capable of,” he hissed. “So let me by.”

She didn’t say anything, but stepped aside so Barren could move past her. This is where Jess’s life had ended—why not end William’s life here, too? Barren held his sword in his left hand, but it felt awkward and uncomfortable. He had used knives before, but this was different—a sword was heavier, harder to maneuver, but that didn’t stop him from calling out to his brother.

“William!”

As his brother whirled around, caught off-guard by the familiar voice, Barren suddenly felt insecure. At any other point in his life, he was the most confident swordsman in the Orient, but seeing his brother’s hatred flare at the mere sound of his voice made him wonder how easy it would be to win this fight.

“Brother! I did not expect to see you here. It seems my privateers did a decent job—you still look pale from the bullets.”

“It has always been your cowardly way—to send others to face me.”

“I am facing you now, brother,” William drew his sword, and the zing of the blade sounded against the silence in the market. Until now, Barren hadn’t realized how many people were here or how many eyes were on him. He was vulnerable. Any one of these people could step in and take him down, just to gain William’s favor. He couldn’t worry about them, however—his target was before him. “Do we end this here?”

“Better now than giving you a chance to be king later.”

William struck, Barren jumped back, deflecting his brother’s attack. Barren’s arm already ached from the strength of William’s blow. Up until this moment, he had sworn to fight William on his own terms—at sea. So why had he made the exception? Perhaps he felt if he could win this fight, it would end the need for the bloodstone. Then he wouldn’t have to go searching through his past, digging up things that might only hurt him more.

“So, how did kidnapping my fiancée work out for you?” he mocked.

“I didn’t know I was helping you,” said Barren through his teeth. “But she is too good for you.”

William laughed. “I suppose you think you’re better?”

Barren’s arm was growing weaker. The harder he tried to the hold the hilt of his sword, the more his hand shook. He knew William had the advantage. Every strike he made was filled with power and hate.

“No,” he growled. “You used her!”

“And you didn’t?” William parried Barren’s blade and the pirate stumbled forward, catching himself. He glared at his brother. Yes, he supposed he had used Larkin to lure William to him, but she had known that from the beginning. Larkin was Barren’s prisoner, what else was expected? Barren forced guilt from his thoughts. He couldn’t be concerned with Larkin at this moment.

“I only wanted to fight you.”

“And you got your wish.” William nicked Barren’s fingers and the pirate dropped his sword. He ducked as William’s blade flew over his head, throwing out his leg, tripping his brother. Barren reached for his blade, but William was already on his feet, kicking Barren in the stomach. He landed on his side, grunting from the pain. He had no time to recover before William’s sword was at his neck, the tip cut into his skin. His arm felt as if hundreds of daggers were stabbing him, and he knew there was blood, but he glared at William, not taking his eyes off his brother, daring him to strike.

“How does this feel?” he yelled. “You have failed brother!”

He raised his blade, intent on cutting off Barren’s head.

“No!” Larkin ran out of hiding, pushing back her hood and drawing her sword. Gasps broke from the crowd surrounding them.

“Larkin!” William moved his sword from Barren’s neck and held out his arms for her, but she did not embrace him. Her gaze was dead. She moved between the two, standing with her sword aloft. When William saw she was not going to touch him, his gaze burned. “I thought you were dead,” he said, sounding disappointed.

“You knew I wasn’t dead, bastard!”

William laughed. “I see my brother’s language has rubbed off on you. But it is no matter, now that you are safe, you will come home with me, and I will
break
that habit.”

Larkin’s eyes blazed as William reached for her. “No! I will not come with you!”

William snarled. “Move! Let me finish him!”

“I won’t let you hurt him,” she did not yell, but there was promise in her voice.

Barren watched her raise the sword he had given her. William laughed. “You realize you are admitting to all these people that you are a traitor.”

“I am no traitor. You’re the traitor! You are guilty of slander! You will never be my king!”

William eyes flared, and he charged at her with all his strength—their battle began. There was no pause in the clang of the two swords, no break. They would clash and recede, like the ocean, each intent on destroying the other. Larkin had fought Barren, but not with this much intensity, not with this much hatred. Larkin parried two attacks and then spun, her sword met something, and then startling silence followed.

Larkin stood, eyes wide with shock as she watched him. William hugged his abdomen, but blood quickly seeped through his crossed arms, staining his skin and the ground before him. Barren got to his feet at some point during their brawl, and now he was pulling her away from the display.

“Let’s go! Run!” he said as he pulled her along, grabbing his sword as he went.

“Get them! Make sure they don’t escape!” William commanded.

Barren and Larkin ran. They were already close to the ports and Barren could see his crew working feverishly to get the ship away from the docks as men were running toward it, weapons drawn. Leaf stood on the railing of the ship, bow out, arrows strung, shooting at any who made an attempt to reach them. Barren’s sword was still drawn, and despite the weakness in his left arm, he managed to cut down anyone who came after them. When Barren noticed Larkin lagging, he pushed her before him, keeping his hand on her back, and making her hurry toward the ship.