The Glittering Court (39 page)

Five men rode up, slowing when they reached me. One held a lantern. They all had weathered faces, with worn clothing suggestive of a laborious life. I didn't recognize any of them. But they recognized me.

“Countess,” one said cheerfully. “We're here to escort you back to Osfrid.”

Chapter 30

I took a step back, trying to calm my rapid breathing and pounding heart.

“You've made some mistake, sir,” I said. “I'm a common laborer, making a delivery.”

“A little late for that,” said one of the other men. “Looks more to me like you're trying to run for it before things blow up in Cape Triumph. Not sure I blame you.”

“We aren't going to hurt you,” said the first man. He dismounted, and a couple of others followed suit. “Just need to ship you back and collect our payday. Come with us, and make it easy on everyone.”

I tightened my hold on the knife and took another step back. I was almost off the road and wondered how far I'd get if I took off into the brushy woods. Probably not very. The terrain looked rough, and I'd likely fall over some log before getting ten feet away.

“She ain't going to make it easy.” The first man reached for me, and I swung out with the knife, cutting through his shirt and slashing shallowly across his chest.

“Bitch!” he cried. “Get her!”

The other men surged forward, and I knew I couldn't beat those odds. As with Warren's attack, I refused to make it simple for them. If they expected a woman to be easy prey, they'd soon learn otherwise. I dropped to the ground as they reached me, causing them to run into one another. I wiggled away as best I could, stabbing one man in the calf. I had the sense to yank the knife out and scurry away as he
fell yelping to the ground. I scrambled to my feet and ran—but was quickly stopped. A hand grabbed my hair and jerked me backward. I fell down, slamming the side of my head against the dirt road.

“Don't injure her!” yelled their leader. “We need her intact.”

“She's got two months at sea to heal,” countered the man nearest me. He tried to grab me, but a wild swing of the blade kept him at bay. His companions were moving in, and one finally managed to knock the knife out of my hand. Surrounded, I finally slowed down and accepted defeat—for now. They had to get me back to Cape Triumph and onto a ship. Plenty of time to escape.

Sensing their victory, the men came to a standstill and awaited their next order. That moment of silence was suddenly filled with the pounding of more hooves. Everyone turned to stare down the road—everyone except me. I used their distraction to slip through two men and grab my knife.

But when the riders came into view, even I was taken aback. A man and a woman slowed before us. They both rode white horses and wore black masks across their eyes. The man nearest me gasped.

“Pirates!”

“Tom Shortsleeves!”

“And Lady Aviel,” said another. He spoke the name like that of a demon, ironic since she bore the name of one of the six glorious angels.

Aiana's words came back to me:
All stories have a seed of truth.

Legends come to life. I hadn't really believed the stories. So many rumors flew around Cape Triumph, and this had seemed particularly outlandish. But if these intimidating figures weren't really two of Cape Triumph's most notorious pirates, their impressions were so good that it didn't matter. They matched the descriptions I'd heard numerous times at parties and, of course, from Mira, their biggest fan. Tom's sleeves were, in fact, short, and I could just make out the peacock feather in his hat. A mane of golden hair fell down Aviel's back, over a cape stitched with stylized stars. The two of them drew swords at the same time, their movements practiced and efficient.

“You have something we want,” said Tom or whoever he really was. “Leave Lady Witmore with us, and go.”

Two of the men immediately began retreating, their faces full of fear. The gang's leader faced the riders down. “She and her reward belong to us. Get out of here before we— Ahh!”

Tom charged forward, slamming the pommel of his sword into the leader's head. Aviel moved just as quickly and went after another of the men. They might be outnumbered, but the horses gave them an advantage since all of the other men had dismounted. The fear the twosome inspired was equally effective. Some of the raiders were trying to get away, and the one I'd injured in the leg was having trouble moving at all.

I took it all in as I hesitated on what to do. With the gang in disarray, I could easily join in with my knife and be effective. But as I watched Tom and Aviel swing their swords fiercely, I decided I didn't want to take my chances with this unknown element. It was time to run.

I climbed back on Beth. With all the commotion, she was much more willing to carry me. We set off at a medium trot—not as fast as I'd like, but enough to get me away. My plan was to put some distance between me and the fray, then get off and take my chances with the woods. It would mean abandoning Beth and the painting, but this was the time for hard choices.

I didn't get nearly as far as I'd hoped. In fact, I'd barely gotten started when Tom and Aviel overtook me and blocked the road ahead. I brought Beth to a halt and stared at these new threats. I tried not to get caught up in the mystique of their fearsome reputations, but it was hard not to.

“You don't need to worry about those men anymore,” said Tom, almost cheerfully.

“Dead?” I asked.

“Maybe,” said Aviel. “Or they ran.” She sounded like she had a Belsian accent. Tom's was solidly colonial.

“Well, it doesn't matter. I wasn't going with them, and I'm not going
with you.” The boldness came automatically, even though there'd be little I could do against them. I'd revert to my plan to find a future escape.

“We don't want to take you away,” Tom replied. “Wherever you're going, we'll help you get there safely. We're your escorts for the night.”

I couldn't see their expressions in the darkness, but he sounded in earnest. “Why? What do you want?”

“Nothing that you need to worry about. Our interests are our own. All you need to know is that you're safe with us.”

I didn't trust them. How could I? None of this made any sense, but then, according to all the stories, it was hard to guess the motives of these two.

When I didn't speak, Tom added, “Your horse is lame?”

“Not yet,” I admitted. “But she threw a shoe.”

“Then we'll have to take you on ours.”

I saw him glance over at Aviel. Something passed between them—something a bit strained—and a moment later, she dismounted. “Mine won't have trouble carrying two,” he said. “You can ride hers.”

Eyeing Tom's large destrier, I suspected the beast could carry ten. The smaller mare had seemed lively and energized back by the lantern, and I felt encouraged by the idea of having my own horse. It increased my getaway odds. “Okay,” I said, walking over to her. “We're going to Crawford.”

Aviel moved to the destrier, hesitating only a moment before effortlessly climbing on with Tom. I tethered Beth to a tree. “Sorry, girl.” I patted her neck, feeling guilty about abandoning this gift. “Hopefully we can get you back to Gideon. Or maybe some new owner will get you a shoe.”

I bound the painting to my new mount, and then we were off at a dizzying pace. The speed was exhilarating after Beth's slow gait, and I allowed myself to hope that this might work after all. But I hadn't even made it halfway to Crawford, and time was still my enemy.

When we finally reached the edge of Crawford, Tom and Aviel slowed. “You have the address?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Then it's probably best we wait here. Seeing us in the middle of the night might be . . . alarming to some people.”

I could believe that. Crawford was bigger than the last village, and it took some doing to find the right place. When I did, I could understand how this buyer could afford my painting. His house was by far the largest in town, a beautiful manor on the opposite side of the center green. Lanterns hung outside, but the windows were dark. Taking a deep breath, I retrieved the painting and knocked on the door.

It took two more knocks before someone answered, a sleepy servant who eyed me askance. “I need to see Mister Davenport.”

“Madam,” said the servant, his tone suggesting that title was generous, “it's the middle of the night.”

“It couldn't be helped.” I held up the wrapped painting. “I have something he's very interested in buying. A painting. I think he'd be upset if he learned you turned me away, and I sold it to someone else.”

The servant's change of expression told me he was familiar with the painting negotiations. He brought me into the foyer and warned me not to touch anything while he was gone. Minutes later, a gray-haired gentleman entered in a house robe. His eyes widened at the sight of me. “You're . . . you're delivering the Thodoros?”

“If you still want it,” I said. “There's a Myrikosi lady in Cape Triumph who's very interested.” I unwrapped it, and he hurried forward, leaning close to the canvas.

“Magnificent. I saw it three weeks ago and couldn't get it out of my mind. I saw one of his other works in this series back on the continent. I was struck back then too.” He gently touched the canvas. “See how the sun illuminates her? Thodoros knows his lighting.”

A pang of guilt hit me. This man was a legitimate aficionado, and I was deceiving him. But was it so wrong if it could give him joy and save a life?

We completed the transaction, and I left his house with a heavy bag of gold. It occurred to me as I walked back to the road that Tom and
Aviel might somehow know what I was doing and plan on taking my money. They materialized out of the shadows before I could consider any alternative courses of action.

“All done?” Tom asked, making no threatening moves. “Then let's get you back. Dawn is coming.” Aviel remained quiet. In the light of the lanterns hanging in town, her hair glittered gold.

Our journey back was frenzied as we tried to beat the sunrise. We were going too fast for me to see Beth, but I did notice the point where we'd had the altercation. The lantern still burned on the road, and two men lay prone nearby. I wasn't sure if they were dead or unconscious, and no one stopped to find out.

Our speed was good—but not that good. The sun was touching the eastern horizon when we reached the outskirts of Cape Triumph, and here Tom and Aviel left me. “We disappear with the dawn,” he said with a smile. “But I hope you can handle things now.”

I got off the mare. My legs were so stiff from all the riding that I nearly fell over. “Thank you for your help. I couldn't have done this without you.” I glanced at Aviel. “Either of you.”

“Our pleasure,” he said. She simply nodded in acknowledgment as she mounted her horse. He sketched me a bow from his saddle. “
Que Ariniel te garde
, Lady Witmore.”

I couldn't help a smile, both at hearing a pirate perfectly deliver an old Lorandian proverb and at having Ariniel invoked on my behalf. Back at my parents' crypt, I'd dismissed the glorious angel who helped with safe passages, but I could certainly use her help now. I waved to the pirates, and their horses soon thundered out of sight.

I walked into Cape Triumph alone. I didn't know the exact time, but seeing so many businesses open didn't bode well. The trial would be starting soon. What would Cedric think when he didn't see me among the spectators? That I'd abandoned him. No. He knew me too well. He'd know I was working to save him. I just hoped I could do it.

I went to Nicholas Adelton's home and found him walking out
the door. He sized me up from head to toe. “I'm running late and had planned to go to the courthouse—but it looks like you need me more.”

“Gideon Stewart talked to you?”

“About his tenuous plan? Yes. And I really didn't think it could be pulled off in time . . . especially the part about the woman with nothing coming up with five hundred gold.”

I pulled back my coat and showed him the money bag.

He shook his head and laughed. “Never a dull moment with you.”

“Will you help us? I know it's a lot to ask after everything we—”

“Miss Bailey,” he interrupted. “Let's go find the Westhaven representatives.”

They were staying at an inn in town, one of the nicer ones. The common room here was quiet and orderly, and Nicholas and I sat at a table while the innkeeper fetched the Westhaven representatives. I yawned once, then again.

“You look like you're ready to fall asleep,” Nicholas said.

“Just need a quick break,” I said. “Then I'll get a second wind. Or maybe I'm on to my third or fourth at this point.”

I could tell he was struggling to say what came next. “Adelaide . . . you didn't do anything, uh, illegal to get that money, did you?”

“No.” I reconsidered. “Well, not exactly. Maybe kind of. I don't know. No one was hurt, if that makes you feel better.”

“Somewhat.”

A man and a woman approached our table. They looked respectfully middle class and were dressed no differently than anyone else. After seeing the Grashond residents, I wasn't sure what to expect from those working toward a religiously tolerant colony.

“I'm Edwin Harrison, and this is my wife, Mary.” The man looked us over, no doubt perplexed by the extreme contrast in my and Nicholas's attire. “Is there something we can help you with?”

“We'd like to buy a stake in Westhaven,” said Nicholas.

Edwin instantly transformed. “Absolutely! How wonderful. We're so eager to have more people join our endeavor. Dear, would you go get
one of the contracts?” He turned back to us while she went upstairs. “You must tell me more about yourselves, Mister and Mistress—”

Nicholas and I exchanged amused looks. “It's not for us,” I said, though I would be affected if this worked. “It's for someone else.”

A little of Edwin's enthusiasm diminished. “That's highly irregular.”

“The man in question is detained,” explained Nicholas. “I'll be serving as proxy.”