Cutlass (7 page)

“So, you will not take responsibility for your careless actions?” the lord’s tone was biting.

“We both know the king would not have approved of destroying the Cliffs with his sons aboard Barren’s ship, even if he were here to make that decision.”

“But
I
did not approve of destroying the Cliffs with my daughter aboard Barren’s ship!”

“The rubble was searched, and there were no signs of the pirates. They must have fled before we got there. Larkin is alive.”

“Alive? She’s alive for now,” Christopher’s voice rose in anger. “Considering your engagement to my daughter was my arrangement, I think I must reconsider, since you are so willing to put her life in danger for your own gain. Pray, tell me again what you gained from destroying the Cliffs?”

If Christopher did call off the engagement, it would leave one of them happy—Larkin had made it perfectly clear that she was only agreeing to the marriage to satisfy her father. She had also made it clear that she could never learn to love him, even if he learned to love her. William ground his teeth together, recalling those words. She would learn to love him or he would see to it that she never loved another.

“Everyone knew Barren’s strength came from his ability to move in and out of those Cliffs, hiding in the shadows. They should have been destroyed long ago to prevent him from wreaking havoc on our island.”

“Yes, and you should have met him at sea long ago! Yet here you sit, stewing in your anger as I lecture you about your rash decisions!”

William pressed his lips together. “Ensuring her safety at the party was not my responsibility, alone.”

“Are you attempting to blame me for my daughter’s disappearance?” Christopher stepped behind his desk again.

William averted his eyes. While he couldn’t completely blame Christopher, he knew he was part of the problem. Christopher always seemed lost in his own thoughts and consumed with his own agenda, which left Larkin to fight for his attention in any way she saw fit. This normally added up to her inappropriate behavior in society—meaning she often voiced her sonorous opinions about politics in the Orient and relations with the Octent, not to mention she had habit of sneaking off to the shore late at night. She remedied this by doing anything Christopher asked—like marrying William.

 Christopher leaned across his desk. “Do you think I arranged this marriage because I’m fond of you?” His voice was low and gruff. “I agreed because you are the king’s nephew and may someday become king, especially since Tetherion’s sons have gone rogue. But if you defy Tetherion’s rule, how do you expect to become king?”

“With force,” William replied simply.

“Force? This is politics, William. Plain and simple—your job is to show them you’re king material, not act the part of an ex-pirate.”

“If King Tetherion hasn’t removed his sons from succession by now, what makes you think he will? I will have no choice but to take the throne by force, and Larkin’s disappearance is just the beginning of that.”

“And how is that?” Christopher wasn’t hiding the fact that he felt William was an imbecile, but William knew the old man by now. If he weren’t intrigued, he wouldn’t have asked.

“The king can easily be blamed for Larkin’s disappearance,” said William at last. “His orders have stopped any attempt to destroy that ship. Now, with the embargo and Larkin missing—well, the public will only take so much. Maris has already stomped several revolts because of Barren.”

Christopher’s brows perked, and he sat back in his chair. “What are you suggesting?”

He had had a lot of time to consider what he was about to propose to Christopher Lee. Through the night, he’d sat on the shore near the ocean, fighting the anger that welled within him at the realization that Barren had gotten the best of him, but perhaps that was not so…perhaps this was the perfect situation to accomplish an even greater goal.

“This situation has put us in the perfect position.” William finally met Christopher’s gaze, and with a shrug he said, “What if we say Larkin has been killed? And blame Tetherion for not taking care of Barren when he became a nuisance? For not dealing with pirates properly?”

“But she is not dead,” said Christopher.

“Barren will not return her until I meet him at sea. Who’s to say we are lying?”

“The people will want proof.”

“Is it enough that I cannot prove she is alive.” William held up the scarf. “I am a grieving lover, do I need proof?”

Lee was quiet for a long moment. He tapped his fingers together as he considered what William was saying. “And you think this will be enough to shake the foundation upon which Tetherion stands?”

“I do,” William replied. “Would you not agree it is the perfect storm?”

“Perfect storm, perhaps—but you would incite rebellion. You realize this is treason?” Christopher raised his brow in question, as if William were stupid. The Ambassador wiped his sweaty palms on Larkin’s scarf. They’d waited for this opportunity for a long time. Here it had presented itself in the strangest of situations, enabled by his brother, and he wasn’t about to let it slip away from fear of prosecution.

“We barely have a king,” said William. “Once we go public with our grief, it is only a matter of time before the people of Maris are revolting in the streets, demanding that King Tetherion be removed and I put in his place. What does Tetherion think he can do? Ignore Barren until the public forgets that he has murdered half our population? Before they forget his sons joined in on Barren’s cause? I think not.”

Lee shrugged. “They have before.”

“But Barren has never crossed over to the boarders of Maris. This is different.”

“What happens when the people of Maris discover Larkin is not dead?”

William shrugged. “It will merely be a happy ending.”

“You risk death,” Christopher reminded William, and then he was silent for a long moment, reclining in his chair, fingers steepled. “Tetherion could return and crush you easily. You do not have the support Tetherion has. The nobles would turn against you...unless you possessed power greater than Tetherion’s title.”

“What has more power than the title of king?”

Christopher smirked, and it made William feel uncomfortable. “Why, the stone that binds your blood to the throne.”

“You’ve gone senile in your old age,” William said. “The bloodstone is just a legend.”

“Legends bear some truth,” said Christopher. “And I can assure you, the bloodstone is real. It has only been stolen.”

The legend Christopher was referring to was known as
The Elder King and the Bloodstone.
In it, the Elder King, Eadred, fought against Gesalec the Defeated for the kingdom of the Orient. Eadred was given a bloodstone by the Elves, and was able to defeat Gesalec, winning the throne of the Orient. No one was really sure how Gesalec was defeated, and the legend only claimed that the stone tied the Reed line to the throne, making it impossible for any other to lay claim. The legend was one of the reasons the people of Mariana still believed the Elves were hiding powerful magic in their realm.

“Who took it?”

“Your father,” Christopher replied. “He, of all people, despised its existence. He believed that nothing entitled a man to the throne. He has hidden the stone somewhere in Mariana, I am sure of it. If you really want to become king without opposition, you’d do well to find it.”

“But if it truly exists, then it is of no use in my hands. It would only mean I am entitled to the throne, as I share Eadred’s blood.”

“On the contrary, at this moment, the bloodstone is not in any one person’s possession, which means it is protecting the whole of the Reed line, but if you were to possess it, it would recognize you as king and do anything in its power to protect
you
. You would be…invincible.”

All his threats would be eliminated. A chill spread down his spine.

“Where do we begin searching?”

“I have a few ideas,” said Christopher. “But first, I want my daughter. If we are to hold up this charade, she cannot come here, and I’ll be damned if she remains in Barren’s hands.”

“We can send our privateers for her,” said William. “She’ll be as safe with them as she is with us.”

“Well, then, let’s get to grieving.” 

The next morning, Barren emerged from his cabin, a stale roll in his hand—breakfast. He tore at it absently, chewing on small pieces. The sun was abnormally bright, and almost blinded him as he left the shadow of his shelter. He moved up the stairs to the helm where Sam and Leaf stood. The Elf clutched a compass, and he and Sam were discussing navigation. Though they were both used to sailing to Silver Crest, there was always that chance that they’d make one wrong turn and miss the island entirely.

Barren stared out at the deck of his ship. Datherious and Natherious were gathering supplies to repair a sail the violent wind had torn in the night. Seamus was inspecting several swivel cannons resting on the gunwales of the deck, and Slay sat perched in the crow’s nest, cutting away at a piece of wood: the shavings fell like rain, landing on the deck below. Barren thought about telling him to stop, but he guessed after having the pirate go after a blanket for Larkin, it was probably best to let him chop away at the stick, or he might find the knife in his back.

“Anyone following us yet?” Barren asked Leaf.

“Not that I can tell,” replied the Elf. He gazed around him one last time, not needing the aid of a spyglass. His Elvish sight was far superior to anything manmade.

“Has she said anything?” Barren nodded toward Larkin. She remained against the wall of the ship where Barren had left her after the attack on the Cliffs. Remnants from the previous day still adorned her. Bits of flowers were tangled in her hair. Loose curls fell around her face, and black smudges beneath her eyes. Her dress, dirty and tattered, was spread out before her, and the jewel-toned fabric shimmered in the sun. To his annoyance, Barren still thought she was beautiful.

“Not a word,” said Leaf. “She’s barely moved, and more surprisingly, she hasn’t complained. If I couldn’t hear her breathing, I would assume she was dead. You might want to feed her, though. She is looking pale.”

Barren watched her again; she didn’t look up. It was as if she were deliberately trying to stay focused on anything but the pirates. Barren took another bite of his roll.

“I still marvel at how my brother managed to become engaged to her.”

“I am surprised, too,” replied Leaf. “But only because she would not let him have his way so easily. Perhaps she will be good for William...she might put him in his place.”

“Blasphemous words, Leaf,” said Barren. “Suggesting that anyone can be happy with William Reed. Besides, if she is so independent in thought, how did she let herself be directed into a marriage she did not want?”

“You are not a part of their world, Barren. The only aspect of her life she has no control over is who she marries. Who she loves, well, that is a different story entirely.”

“To marry William would be a waste.”

“I must remind you that Larkin is half-Elf,” Leaf’s sea-green eyes were on her now. “And she can hear every word we are saying. Now...the bread?”

Barren looked down at his roll again. He grabbed the canteen of water sitting next to the helm, and moved away from Leaf. His boots thudded against the deck but even then, Larkin didn’t look up. Barren stood before her for a moment, waiting to see if she would acknowledge him, and yet again, she didn’t move. So the pirate knelt to meet her gaze—her eyes seemed to simmer, and despite the fury aimed at him, he smiled.

“Here,” he held out a piece of bread for her. “Eat.”

She hesitated for a moment and then took a bite of the bread as he held it to her mouth, chewing slowly. After she swallowed, she met his gaze.

“You can untie me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“How can I trust you when you attacked me so viciously last night?”

She smiled cynically. “I can’t swim.”

He didn’t want to believe her, but he remembered her saying that her father refused to let her go to the shore for fear pirates might abduct her. If that were true, why then wouldn’t he teach her how to swim? He took a knife from his boot, and, placing a finger through the ropes around her wrists, he lifted her hands to him. He studied her face for a moment before slicing the ropes and letting her hands fall into her lap, hoping she wouldn’t slap him. “Here,” he handed her the bread. “Eat, then.”

Larkin still stared at him fiercely, nibbling at the bread. Barren laughed at her. “It’s not poisoned, I was eating it.”

 When she took a bigger bite from the roll, Barren was satisfied. He rocked back on his heels. “So where did
you
learn to fight like that? Seems strange that someone like you would have such skill.”

“What do you mean someone like me?” Larkin snapped.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean,” Barren said blandly. “You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You’ve never wanted for anything—so why would you require swordsmanship skills?”

“I require them because people like you exist,” she said. “My father wanted me to be well-prepared.”