Marri's Approach (Brackish Bay) (11 page)

“Shh, shh. We need to clean your wounds.”

They continued the work they'd done on the right side, cutting off my makeshift bandages and dousing them with cold fire. I thrashed, but couldn't go anywhere; my ankles were bound, also. I tightened my grip on Jacqueline's hand until she sucked in breath, but I didn't care.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7

 

I woke up alone. I was lying on a soft mat in the same cell where I'd lost consciousness. I tried to move and realized I was bound, but not tightly. My wrist and ankles were cuffed, but only one of the ankle cuffs was fastened to a ring in the back corner. I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forced me to lie flat. I gave up and closed my eyes again, determined to recover as quickly as I could. Who knew how long Sandra would behave herself before my foolish attempt to protect her backfired, and I found myself thrashed for some misdeed of hers? There was a soft tunic covering most of my body, loose enough to not constrict my wounds.

I stretched slowly, carefully, trying my best not to completely disrupt my bandages or the freshly scrubbed and newly healing cuts on my arms. I should thank them, Fortuna. They probably saved my life. It was not unheard of for soldiers to die from small wounds when marching through the swamp. I came all the way awake with a start, and sat up, despite the throbbing in my head.

“Governor Roy. I must speak with him.”

“Why?”

It took me a minute to focus on the woman outside the cell. I frowned as I tried to remember her name. “Jacqueline?” She nodded. “I have news, information for him.”

She held up the quiver I had stolen. “This?”

“Yes.” My heart sped up, and I wondered what they thought of it, bloody, muddy, and smeared. “Please. It's important for the whole city, for all the outposts.”

A man spoke up from just outside my cell. “Why?”

I swung my head towards him, and had to close my eyes for a moment to regain my sight. “It's the plans. Their plans.” I frowned, swallowed hard. “Who are you?”

The woman answered. “That's Roy. Our master.”

I examined him for a full minute. He wore a chain around his neck with a medallion on it, carved or cast with the sigil of the House of Brackish Bay on it. He also had a ring filled with tiny numbered keys on his belt. His hair was short, and a large scar ran across his jaw and throat. He looked the way William had described him. I took a deep breath.

“There's an army two days from here.”

“I know.” His voice was deep, dark, and resonant.

“Those are their plans.”

“I read them. How do I know you're not one of their spies, sent to give me misinformation?”

“William the Poet will vouch for me.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from the woman. “William? Where is he?”

“What do you mean, where is he? He sailed to your island days ago. Or at least one of the outposts. I jumped ship before it landed, but he should have been here long before now.”

“I have not seen him. I would have. He—my daughter is his apprentice.”

Oh, Fortuna. That's why she's familiar. “Katherine.”

“You know her?” There was no disguising the hope and fear in her voice.

I frowned. How was it possible that they had not made it to a port in Brackish Bay, when I knew for a fact that the ship they were on had made it and had traded with the merchants in the outposts?

“I know her well. We traveled for months together, to Zalactown and Cinitar and Ken's Corner and—”

Both of them stood bolt upright.

“Ken's Corner?” Her voice was a cry of dismay, his of accusation. He continued.

“How the hell did William let her go to Ken's Corner?”

I squirmed, feeling again the shame at nearly getting her raped by continuing my mission to find Simon's bones without William's permission, even after I'd discovered she had snuck out after me. “I, uh. I might have gone without permission.”

“Why would you do that? Didn't William tell you how dangerous it was?”

“Yes, he did. But I—” My mission seemed very foolish now. “I wanted to find Simon's bones. So that you could bring him home. If you wanted to.”

Roy's voice softened. “I would like to do that.” It hardened again. “But a dead man's bones are not worth your skin, and especially not worth Katherine's. Was she harmed?”

“No. Maybe.”

Jacqueline threw the cell door open and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Maybe? Maybe? What happened, tell me everything!”

I winced. “My lady, um, everything?”

She looked to Roy, a plea in her eyes. “Master! Please make her tell me.”

He came into the cell and crouched down beside her, taking my jaw in his big hand. “Marri. Tell her what happened.”

I swallowed hard, and he released me, his gaze a quiet intensity I could feel in my bones. Inexplicably, the weight of it stirred something in my core.

“She followed me on my mission. When I realized that, I kept her close to me. We went to the south gate.” I could feel rather than see Roy tense. “Two men took us out to the place where Simon died. One started to fuck me, and I cut his throat. The other was still fumbling with Katherine's clothing when I cut his. He—” I swallowed hard again, looking anywhere but at the stricken woman's face in front of me. “He bled. All over Katherine.” Jacqueline paled. I hurried on. “I washed her off. In the river. And took her back to the boat. And William beat me. Twice.”

Roy nodded, satisfied. Jacqueline was still distraught.

“How could you?”

Roy stroked her gently. “She killed the man before he could rape Katherine. I think that counts for quite a bit.”

She turned away from me, biting her lip as tears streamed out of her eyes. “How could you even take her to that place?”

He stroked her, murmuring soothing words. Finally he spoke firmly. “Go to Devon. Do not come back to Marri's cell until tomorrow morning.”

She obeyed, but not before sending me a final piercing glance. Roy's eyes followed her out, and then he came back into the cell with me. Without Jacqueline's gentling presence, he felt bigger, scarier. I instinctively drew away from him, my belly tight with fear even as my traitorous cunt responded to his power. He crouched in front of me again. I stared at him, not wanting him to know just how much he intimidated me.

He half-smiled. “So you're the troublemaker. One of the sailors was telling Stephanie how there was a soldier woman on his boat who was the worst troublemaker he'd ever seen.”

I blinked. Fortuna, I am not sure that playing dumb will be the right tack to take with this man. He seems to see too much.

“Yes, sir.”

“When did you last see William?”

When did I, Fortuna? “Some days ago. Maybe as long as a week or a fortnight. I'd have to think back.”

“Where?”

“At the last little dock before Brackish Bay. They told me it was only a day away by boat. It took us several on foot.”

“And Katherine was with him?”

“Yes, sir, he and Amadeus both.”

Roy relaxed a touch. “They didn't disembark with you?”

“No, sir. Why would they? William knew my mission.”

His attention sharpened. “He did? What mission?”

“My mission to prove your defenses were insufficient.”

He stared at me for a long moment, and I had the unsettling feeling he was deciding how to react to me. Then he threw back his head and laughed.

“You sit here in my jail cell and tell me to my face that my House's defenses are insufficient?”

I shrugged. “If William hadn't made me swear not to harm any of your people, I'd have better proof. As it is, I've been on your island twice now without getting caught. I only got caught when I needed to bring Sandra to safety.”

Roy looked at me with new respect. “So you have no fear of killing? The murder of Katherine's would-be rapist was not a fluke, but a skill?”

I shrugged the shoulder with the mercenary tattoo on it. He touched it, gently, as it was only partially covered by the fresh bandages.

“I am a soldier.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“No one. I last belonged to William, because he saved our lives.”

“Our?”

“Dinis's and mine. A fellow soldier who also belongs to him now,” I explained.

“Who set you to this mission?”

“I set myself to it. I was concerned when William described your House and your relatively open borders.”

“You understand why my borders are open, don't you?”

“No, sir.”

“My wife—” He stopped for a moment, swallowing hard and blinking away a sheen that came over his eyes for a moment before continuing more strongly. “My
wife
, Jessica, wanted this to be a safe haven where people who needed protection could come. This world is harsh.” I nodded. “Those brutal enough to rule, do so. The strong submit, and the weak die.”

I cocked my head. Was he calling those who submit the strong ones, Fortuna?

“Are you brutal, sir?”

He smiled slightly. “When I need to be, yes.”

I remembered Petunia's description of rust, Sarafina's description of the consequences of rule-breaking in this House. “Death for death or excessive damage.”

He nodded. “Yes.” His eyes were approving. “You've learned things.”

“Of course, sir. My mission would not be complete without information.”

“So you understand that you have broken one of our rules and will be punished.”

I swallowed hard. “My information is service enough to atone for any rule-breaking.”

He shook his head. “No. Your information is valuable enough to keep you alive.” I winced. “Had you killed or attacked any of my people, I would accept your information and then you would still be put to death.”

Fortuna, maybe William cared just as much about me as he did the rest of the people in Brackish Bay when he made me swear to his rule.

“I give you my oath, sir, that I have not harmed any of your people.”

“Good. I will check.”

“Of course, sir.” My heart was beating faster than I wished it to, but what could I do? I was bound, my body still far below full strength. “Have you checked the information in the quiver?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“It is none of your concern, other than to know that you will be safest here, in my land, when they attack.”

His words reminded me of my patrol, and I cursed myself for forgetting them. “Sir! My patrol! Are they safe?”

He frowned at me. “Your patrol? Who are they, and where are they?”

“My—they're soldiers from Cinitar who swore themselves into my service as a way to learn more than city-protecting. One was injured. She—I'm hoping all of them have either been captured or turned themselves in to Brackish Bay, as what is coming is far more dangerous to their health.”

“I will check.” To my surprise he stood immediately and left the cell to speak to a man who left quickly. He came back in and sat down, contemplating me. “They will let me know if any strangers have arrived in the last few days.”

“And if they have? Will you grant them protection?”

“It will depend on their behavior.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then thought better of it. Now was not the time. “Thank you, sir.”

“Good girl.”

I blushed from my chin to my hairline and hated that he could make me feel that way from a couple syllables of approval. “And Sandra? Will she be cared for?”

“How did you come by her? You said she was not a soldier.”

“She was one of the slaves to the man who captured me in the forest. One of the enemy soldiers. I helped her escape.”

“Is that the only reason you left the enemy camp?”

I scoffed. “Gods, no. I was on my way out and took her with me.”

“She is terrified.”

I grimaced. “I'm sorry for that. It would have been worse if I'd left her there. Lorenzo was harsh to her. He would have beaten her for my disappearance and probably seriously damaged her, as she could have been the only one other than him to have the combination to my shackles. And she was dying of emotional neglect there.”

Roy raised an eyebrow. “Dying of emotional neglect?”

“She needs to be a
one
—someone special for her man. Lorenzo had a dozen captive women. She was the senior, but it didn't matter. She was not worth much to him.”

“I'll see what I can do to offer her to men looking for a wife.”

I bowed my head, my breath a sigh across my lips. “Thank you, sir.” One down, five to go. “One of my patrol was captured by Rari's people, a tan skinned, brown haired woman named Sami. She needs to be released.”

He snorted. “You don't ask for much.”

“I protect my own.”

“We'll discuss it once I hear the details from Rari.”

“I—”

He silenced me with a look. I closed my mouth. Fortuna, that's strange. I swallowed hard. He changed the subject.

“How are your arms?”

“Sore. But I feel less likely to black out in the middle of this conversation.”

“Good.” He touched my bandages then, examining them carefully and making sure there was no longer any rot in my flesh. I flinched when he touched me, but it was bearable. “I'm going to unbind you now. You will stand up, slowly, and you will stretch your limbs.”

Again, the weight of his voice, of his orders, lay heavy in my belly.

“Yes, sir.”

I waited, then when I felt the tension on the cuffs release, I obeyed. Carefully, slowly, I stood up. He stood with me, a strong hand steadying me. I stretched, the cuts burning and throbbing. I inhaled, pulling air into the deepest parts of my lungs, and with it came the scent of the man in front of me.

Fortuna, that's a dirty trick.

I exhaled, pushing the desire away, pushing the pulse that started between my legs out of my mind. He leaned over and locked my ankle cuffs together with a small lock with a key from a separate ring on his belt. I grunted, annoyed, and he raised an eyebrow. I sulked. He guided me back, and helped me sit down in the corner, my back to two walls.

“Tell me if Jackie comes back before tomorrow morning.”

“What will happen to her if she does?”

“She'll be punished.”

“Why?”

“She belongs to me. She knows better than to disobey me, and if she does, she knows to accept her punishment.”

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