The Wrath of a Shipless Pirate (The Godlanders War) (25 page)

T
he tavern keeper met them on the floor again, and his eyes
went wide at the sight of Signor della Porta in such
condition
.
“Cousin! I do bid you welcome to my fine
establishment
, but is this wise? And tell me what’s become of you!”

Corin spared no time for niceties. He caught the tavern keeper by the shoulder. “Have you set someone to searching for my information yet?”

“Not yet. You did say tomorrow—”

“I need them now. I need them right now, but the target has changed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Princess Sera has been kidnapped. About an hour ago, she was stolen right off the street and carried away in a big black carriage.”

“And

how does this relate to your search for
Don Giul
iano?”

“I can only guess. But I suspect it was my action that led to her capture, and I will do what I must to rescue her. Has anyone been to my room?”

The tavern keeper blinked at the sudden change of topic. “No, my lord. I gave my word—”

“Good. I’ll grab some things while you catch up with della Porta. Find out where we should start searching. Put all your men on finding the princess.”

“And you?”

“I have work of my own to do. I can find the things I need to know. Put all your men on finding the princess. Can you d
o t
hat?”

“I will do whatever you ask.”

“Then help your cousin. I don’t want her fate weighing on my conscience.”

“Yes, my lord. I understand.”

He turned to Signor della Porta for clearer answers, and Corin left them to their conversation. He had to find Blake. His every instinct screamed that Blake had captured Sera, and that gave Corin one more sin to hold against the man. One more potential victim Corin needed to rescue, if there were any time left at all. He darted up the stairs toward his rooms. He burst through the door—

—and found Aemilia sitting on his bed. She held the book of memories in one hand and the dartgun in the other. To Corin’s
horror
, she was reading from the book. For a moment she didn’t move, didn’t react at all to his arrival. She turned a page,
finished
a paragraph, and then raised her eyes to Corin with an
infuriating
calm.

Corin shut the door. He stared at her a moment. How had she found him here? How had she gotten past a Nimble Fingers
tavern
keeper unnoticed? She was remarkable in her own way. And now she simply sat there, waiting. She didn’t point the dartgun, didn’t make a threat or plea. She waited for him with a pretty little smile. Most remarkable.

And at the same time, most inconvenient. He couldn’t run this time. He’d escaped her in Marzelle, but only by skipping town. He could not leave Aerome. He had to win her over or at least buy time to settle Ethan Blake.

So he smoothed his brow and dipped his head to her in
greeting
. “You do keep springing up in unexpected places.”

Her smile broadened. “And you keep running away. A girl could get her feelings hurt.”

“How did you find me here?”

She laid the book aside and climbed to her feet. “The Council caught you traveling again. They know you’re in Aerome, but they do not know where.”

Corin licked his lips. “You’re on the Council. You know where I am.”

“On this one point

the Council and I are at odds.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t need to hear you had been traveling, Corin; I’ve been waiting for you here since you left Marzelle.”

“You knew I’d come to Aerome?” he asked, but then he
nodded
. “Ah. Yes. You’d already tracked down Ethan Blake.”

“And I never doubted you would find him too.”

“I’ve found him, all right. But not soon enough. He’s
committed
more atrocities, and I believe he’s just abducted the princess.”

“We do not meddle in the politics of nations,” she said.

“And I don’t stand idly by while tyrants ply their trade!”

She widened her eyes, apparently impressed at his
sincerity
, then came across the floor toward him. “You are something special.”

He cocked his head. “Are you warming up to me?”

“Corin

why didn’t you tell me about the book?”

He looked away and shrugged. “I told you there were books.”

“But you didn’t mention that you’d saved one. You didn’t mention that it spoke of you and of Oberon’s last design.”

“Honestly? I didn’t think you’d want to share.”

She cleared her throat. “You can hardly claim that this is
yours
. It belongs to the world—”

“You see?” Corin said. “That’s just the sort of thing I thought you’d say.”

She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t wish to fight with you, Corin. I want to be your friend.”

It sounded genuine—desperate even—but Corin couldn’t bring himself to trust easily. He fixed her with a challenging glare. “That’s a cruel lie, Aemilia, especially when you’ve already said the truth more plainly. You want to use me.”

She crumpled, sitting there on his bed. In a tiny voice, she answered him. “The Council wants to use you. I won’t deny that. But they haven’t met you yet. They cannot comprehend
everything
you are until they know you.”

Corin wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but some old,
stubborn
pride kept him where he was. He raised his chin. “I’d prefer to keep them guessing.”

“I understand,” she said, meeting his eyes again. “I truly do. That’s why I didn’t tell them where to look. That’s why I came alone to speak with you again.”

He blinked. “You

you won’t convince me.”

“I have to try. Not for their sake, but for yours.”

Corin stretched out his hand. “Very well. But first, return the book.”

To his surprise, she did. She didn’t even argue. She pressed it into his hands and backed away. “It’s yours,” she said. “For now, at least. I hope someday you’ll choose to share it with me.”

“You’ve made a good first move. Now wow me. What’s your offer?”

“Me.”

He blinked. “I don’t know what to say. Maybe

spin around? Show me your teeth?”

She blushed bright red, but she did not back down. “I want to bring you in, Corin. To keep you safe. I want you to stay with the Council.”

“I’ve already said—”

“You won’t be a prisoner,” she said. “You’ll be a guest. I am prepared to guarantee it.”

“Do you have so much authority? Can you stop them from throwing me in a pit somewhere? Hiding me from the world? Interrogating me for every last scrap of information? Stealing m
y
lif
e
?”

She sat a little straighter. “No. But that’s my offer. Wherever the Council sends you, whatever they elect to do with you

I’ll be right there with you. I will not leave your side. I will not
abandon
you to them. If they steal your life, they’ll be stealing mine too. I am prepared to tie my fate
to y
ours.”

“You’d do all that just to get me to submit to them?”

“All that and more. I do not want to see you harmed.”

He chuckled. “I must have won you over with my charm.”

She surprised him with another blush. And she did not deny his claim. “I understand you are afraid. You do not need to be. You’ll have a friend and a determined advocate in me.”

He went a step toward her. “Aemilia

are you concerned for me?” He could not quite hide his grin.

“We’ve been gathering intelligence, you know. We’ve been piecing together your history. And then

I read the book. I wish

I wish I could have seen you face down Ephitel. I wish I could remember that day the way you do.”

“It is no happier for me.”

“Perhaps. But it would have been good to find a hero on our side.” She cleared her throat and looked away. “It would be good to find one now. Please be on our side.”

“Aemilia.” He took her hand, and that drew her gaze back to his. “I could use a steadfast friend. I’ve learned that on this
journey
. I would love to have you for a companion.”

“But?”

“But nothing. There is work in Aerome that I must do, but you already know that. I ask the same thing that I asked of you back in Marzelle, and for a moment you were prepared to grant it. I’m closer now, and since he’s captured the princess, the stakes are higher now.”

“You still want me to let you start a war with Ethan Blake.”

“No war. I mean I mean to vanquish him. Let me finish this one task, and then I’ll run away with you.”

She rolled her eyes at that, but she could not quite hide the blush that bloomed again on her cheeks.

“You have my word. I won’t betray you to them. But tell me what you have in mind.”

Corin had no answer for her. He pointed past the bed. “Hand me my sword.”

“Tell me first.”

He shrugged. “I’d hoped to use the princess. Giuliano haspositioned himself against her. He killed a man she loves, and I hoped when I revealed that to her, she’d use her family
connections
to destroy him.”

Aemilia frowned. “Our intel suggests that Sera’s out of favor with the family.”

“She is, and she’s a kind person as well. She was useless to me even before he carted her off.”

“So, what will you do?”

Corin shrugged. “I will use more common means.” He went to the armoire and fetched his purse. “I’ll investigate this, Giuliano. I will spend tonight on questions, trying to find some indiscreet retainer or old associate who might point me to a weakness. If I can find where he is vulnerable, I can exploit it.”

“And if he isn’t at all?”

“Everyone is vulnerable somewhere,” Corin said. “The bigger question is time.”

She sighed, exasperated. “I’ll keep your secret, Corin. You asked a day, but if it takes a week, a month, I won’t betray you.”

He showed her a smile. “I know. It’s not for you.”

“Then who?”

“The women in his power. If he has kidnapped Princess Sera, he must plan something truly terrible for her. He cannot allow her to escape and testify against him.”

“Why is she your responsibility? Surely she has her own
supporters
in the family!”

“As far as I can tell, she has only one old retainer. But more than that, she’s my responsibility because she was captured when I lured her from the palace by pretending to be the paramour that I allowed Dave Taker to murder.”

Aemilia gasped. “I

I see.”

“Aye. I created this mess, and it falls to me to clean it up.”

“Then the second woman would be Iryana? You have said you feel much the same when it comes to her.”

“All his victims,” Corin said. “I seek justice for the ones he has already hurt, and rescue for the ones he’ll hurt if I delay.”

“You bear too much upon your shoulders.”

“Someone must. I spoke with the creator. I spoke with the man who made this world and I faced down the man who broke it. I can no longer accept that this is just the way things are; I know that wicked men have made it thus. And I can stop them.”

“I should come with you.”

“I’d beg you not to.”

She tilted her head, smiling up at him. “Because it is too
dangerous
? I know some tricks of my own.”

He shook his head. “That’s not it at all. My methods

aren’t always pretty. I’ll have to go to some dark places to find the things I need. I won’t try to hide the truth from you, but I’d much prefer you never see it firsthand.”

She paled at his words, and after a moment she nodded. Without another word, she passed him his sword.

“And the dwarven pistol.”

“It isn’t loaded.”

“Praise Fortune. Still, it has served me as a prop.”

She gave him the gun as well. He tucked it in his belt, and then he almost kissed her. Instead, he held her gaze and told her earnestly, “I will come back.”

“Bloodstained?”

“One can only hope.”

She sighed. “Be safe, Corin. I mean it. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“I’ll do my best.”

She opened her mouth as though to argue more, to press the point, but then she let her shoulders drop and looked away. “Will you at least leave me something to read while I wait up for you?”

He only weighed the question for a moment. He did trust her. He bowed his head and handed her the book of memories. “Keep it safe.”

“Safer than you. I’ll swear it.”

He barked a laugh. “I have to give you that one. Good
evening
to you, lady.”

“Clear skies,” she said. “And happy hunting.”

 

C
orin’s hunt took him no further than the common room. As he stepped onto the floor, the tavern keeper appeared, bubbling with news. But Corin silenced him with a gesture. He cocked his head, listening to the noise of the busy tavern.

“Something amiss?” the tavern keeper asked.

“Aye,” Corin said, as he caught the sound again. A booming laugh, and a familiar one. Corin grinned. “And it’s something good for a change.” He turned to the tavern keeper. “Send some dinner to my room, and a good bottle of wine. There is a lady there, and she deserves a decent meal.”

The tavern keeper shook his head. “I can assure you no one has gone up—”

Corin laid a reassuring hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I keep strange company. Don’t let it trouble you, good man. See to that, and then you can bring me whatever news you have of the princess.”

“You’re not going out?”

“Not yet,” Corin said. “First, I think I’ll win a hand of cards.”

Corin slipped into the crowd and picked a path toward the distant sound of laughter. He didn’t need to listen hard to find his way. The man he went to meet would be in the center of the room. He always was.

Ben Strunk, the city dwarf. Corin watched him from a
distance
for a moment. Strunk sat at a table with half a dozen local thieves, trading barbs and sipping spirits and throwing hand after hand after hand into the pot. Corin grinned.

He moved forward then, slipping stealthily behind the
laughing
dwarf, and when he was just a pace away, Corin drew the dwarven pistol from beneath his cloak. He pressed the
barrel’s
tip against the back of Ben Strunk’s neck and cocked the
hammer
. The click was loud enough to silence all the laughter at the table.

Ben dropped his cards and spread his hands wide, but
otherwise
he didn’t move. He took a slow breath, then spoke
distinctly
. “I’m sorry, mister. I swear, she said she wasn’t married.”

Corin had to laugh at that. He eased the hammer and dropped the pistol on the table right in front of Ben. “Still the same Ben Strunk! I bring a gift from out of time.”

“Corin Hugh!” Ben shouted, springing to his feet. He clasped Corin’s arm in welcome, then waved toward the table. “I’d heard rumors you were in Aerome. Take a seat! Take a seat. I’m sure someone in this rabble will yield you his place. They’ve gotta be tired of winning my money by now.”

“They can go for hours yet,” Corin said, waving for the others to keep their places. “It’s all part of the Nimble Fingers training. And I have business elsewhere.”

“Aye? What business is that? Anything to do with a desert mutiny?”

“You heard about that?”

“I heard a First Mate got sick of sucking sand and left his captain buried in a mountain. Heard the same fellow ended up sinking that captain’s ship off Jebbra Point.”

“The scalawag!”

“You make light,” Ben said, “but there’s a specialness to crafted things. To
owned
things. And there are few relationships more dear than that between a captain and his ship. I know this.”

“As it happens,” Corin said, more bitter than he meant to be, “that was not the only relationship Ethan Blake stole in Jepta. I owe him for a great many things.”

“How did that bring you to Aerome? I don’t much consider this a pirate port.”

“You were doing so well! Have you heard no rumors about a spoiled little lord playing pirate?”

“Happens all the time.”

“And do they often come back home when they fail as
captains
? When their ships sink off Jebbra Point?”

“Oho! Your Ethan Blake was just pretending.”

“Pretending not to be a Vestossi,” Corin said. He looked around the table, conscious of all the unfamiliar faces, but in the end he did not much care. If he failed in his quest, he might at least spread a little slander on the villain’s name. “Pretending not to be Giuliano, in fact. I’ve chased his trail halfway across the world and found him here.”

Ben Strunk sucked in a deep breath. He dropped the playful tone and lowered his voice. “You might be careful using names like that, Corin.”

“I used up all my caution days ago. It’s past time I answered Blake for his misdeeds.”

“Aye, I’ll give you that, but going up against a Vestossi in Aerome? It’s a risky business. Particularly Giuliano.
Particularly n
ow.”

“Oh? You know him?”

“Who doesn’t? You always did hang out with riffraff. You should spend some time among courtiers—their gossip and their booze are both much better.”

“So? What can you tell me of Giuliano?”

“He’s the talk of the town, my boy. He’s been at every
dinner
, every ball since summer started. And he has this exotic little trinket on his arm.”

Iryana. Corin’s eyes must have flashed, because Ben Strunk shrank away and stammered. “Oh. Yes. You did mention other relationships.”

Corin growled a warning. “What can you tell me abo
ut h
im?”

“I never thought to look too deep. He seems like your
average
little lord, if an up-and-comer. He’s certainly done something to make a name, though. I’ve heard King Ipolito means to honor him tonight.”

“What? Why?”

Ben Strunk shrugged. “No one knows. Some family politics.”

Auric. It had to be. Blake had removed a potential
embarrassment
from the family name, and now he’d be rewarded. That explained the bathhouse, tying up all his loos
e end
s.

Corin slammed a fist down on the table. “Honor him? Tonight, you said? Where?”

“A gala at his father’s house.”

“Where is this house?”

“I’d planned to go. Shall I just take you there?”

“Aye! But tell me now. Where is he?”

“King’s Way,” Ben said. “West of the palace. Half a mile from the playhouse. You shouldn’t have any trouble spotting it; they have half the city out for decorations.”

“When? When does the gala start?”

Ben leaned back in his chair, thinking. “Oh

in perhaps an hour. But I hadn’t planned to show before midnight. You know, for the sake of fashion.”

“That will do for me,” Corin said, clapping Ben on the
shoulder
. He bounced on his toes, anxious to be off. “Bring a blade or two. Things could get nasty.”

“Oh, silly pirate. I don’t think you understand how galas work.”

Corin shook his head. He broke away, heading for the door. “I’ve waited long enough,” he shouted back. “It’s time he’s answered for.”

Ben Strunk jumped to his feet and shouted after Corin. “Wait! What’s this toy you bring me?”

“Your legacy! Gift from your father in another version of the dream. It’s dwarven mastercraft, commissioned by a god.”

Ben’s eyes grew wide at that. He nodded a true artist’s
appreciation
for such a priceless work of art.

Corin couldn’t linger any longer. He broke for the alley door, but he heard Ben behind him. “You hear that, boys? Dwarven mastercraft. A perfect treasure. I’ll wager that and sixty livres blind on my next hand.”

King’s Way ran along the crest of the city’s highest hill, and it
featured
the stylish mansions of the highest families. The Vestossis owned more than a block of it, not even counting t
he ro
yal
family
, but Corin didn’t have to ask to know which one belonged to Giuliano’s father. Ben had been right; it was obvious.

Torches flared all across the steep, sloping yard as workers rushed to finish decorating. Silken streamers sought to soften the appearance of the spike-topped gates. A band was setting up out on the porch, and from the screech and whine of strings, Corin guessed another was already tuning up somewhere inside. The whole scene was chaos.

And chaos was his friend. Corin picked out the darkest spot along the wide front gate, then camped within its shadows, waiting for some disturbance from the house—or, more likely, some passing beauty on the street—to distract the guards on the front gate. Then it would be an easy enough matter to scale the fence, climb the hill, and find his way into the house.

In the end, it was a disturbance from the house—a shouting altercation between some serving maid and a noble lady. Corin grabbed two handfuls of silk streamer, heaved himself up to the top of the gate, and caught one clear look across the lawn to the front porch.

And spotted Iryana.

She was not in chains. She wasn’t bruised or beaten. She wore a sleek black dress and gold enough to buy a ship and crew. Corin gasped aloud. He wasn’t close enough to have been heard, but he was in obvious sight, hanging from the gate like that. A servant spotted him and pointed. Iryana and the serving maid both turned his way. The guards on the gate shouted, “Halt! Who goes?”

And Corin ran. He went two blocks, then slipped into the shadows and waited for the chasing guards to lumber past, heads whipping left and right as they searched for him. He waited until they’d gone another block; then he eased back out onto the lane and crept toward the house again.

Iryana was still there. She lingered halfway down the drive, wringing her hands and staring out into the dark night. She’d seen him. She must have seen him. And she’d always been a clever girl. He could count on it. She’d find some chance to slip away—

While he watched, she turned and shouted something back into the house. Then she stomped down the hill to the front gates and waited by the street, tapping one heel. Corin watched her, hoping she’d come farther, desperate to catch any signal she might give him.

He was so intent on her, he was nearly trampled by the
little
trap carriage that came dashing up the street behind him. It
settled
to a halt just by the gate, and Iryana climbed up inside. Corin couldn’t hear her instructions, but the tone was sharp enough to draw blood. The driver cracked his whip, and they were gone.

For a half a heartbeat Corin didn’t move, torn between his errand here and his concern for Iryana. She had not seemed
broken
. She’d barely seemed restrained. But—no matter what he’d told the druid—this girl was at least half the reason he had come for Blake.

So in the end he chased her. He couldn’t guess where she might go, so he abandoned subtlety and set off at a full sprint. The gate attendant cried out when he saw Corin in pursuit. He leaned out in the street and shouted after the missing guards,
but C
orin was already past and gone. Corin reached the apex
of th
e hill just in time to see the carriage down below turn left onto a crossing lane. He didn’t slow.

Lungs and legs both burning, he pounded down the hill and made the turn just in time to see the trap force through a crowd of late-night revelers. The driver never eased up. Perhaps Iryana hadn’t seen him. Perhaps she’d planned her own escape, and he’d arrived just in time to see her slip away. He made the block, then leaped onto the platform of a priceless statue to search left and right for some sign of the carriage.

He found it parked beside a tailor’s shop half a mile off. He frowned, then cast another glance around, but this was the only carriage of its sort in sight. And even as he watched, Iryana came stomping from the shop and flung herself into the cab again. Corin sprang down to the street and ran that way, but she was already giving her directions. He’d never catch her now.

The trap stopped at a jeweler’s two blocks down. This time she did not even go in. She spoke some word to the driver and then sat waiting in the carriage while he went and rapped on the door. The shop was closed, but when he returned to report this, she sent him back to rap all the harder. He raised a racket that might have woken half the street, and in time the jeweler came to open the door for him.

Corin watched this all play out as he crept slowly closer. Once the driver was inside, Corin had his chance to approach unseen. But something stopped him. He moved close enough to give chase again, and that was all. He hid within the shadows of a closed-up bakery and watched the girl he’d come to rescue.

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