Treason's Shore (35 page)

“Not while
I’m
there, he won’t,” Jeje growled.

“So what do we do? You can’t fight Fox and win.”

“I can’t alone. But he can’t take us all. We have to stay united,” Jeje retorted.

“You and I can’t take him together, either. So do we bring people in?” Dasta grimaced. “Seems to me the more people know, the more they’ll go crazy after gold. Just like Fox.”

“I don’t think Fox’s crazy after gold. Why else didn’t he take it when he had the chance? No, I just think he doesn’t want Inda to have it. That’s why he’s so angry at Barend.”

“Is that what’s going on?”

“I think so. Nothing else makes sense.”

“And that does? Shitfire. I wish the damned islanders had burned that damned book before Inda ever got here.” Dasta’s usually pleasant face was grim.

They would have been surprised to discover that roughly the same thoughts were going through not just Barend’s mind but also Fox’s.

Barend stood silently at his station behind the binnacle. He hadn’t spoken to anyone for weeks, except when necessary to deliver orders. He blamed himself for what had happened; he should have known Fox would figure out his purpose. He should not have come on board. He should not have tried a sneak that night. And he should not have left Aunt Wisthia’s golden scroll case—given to him so he could keep her apprised of his progress—in his gear. Of course he’d asked Fox where it was, and of course Fox had asked, “What case?”

How many times since had he laughed at himself and Inda, closeted there in Ala Larkadhe, each thinking himself so smart, so far-seeing?
Get the gold,
Inda had said.
Turn it into trade,
Barend had said.

We were idiots. No. We are idiots,
Barend thought, watching the harbor close in. He was alone, for he refused to try raising a mutiny with the gold as reward. Just how many would be killed if he tried that stupidity?

He also refused to write to Evred via the locket, which was still hanging around his neck. Evred could do nothing. Knowing about his fool cousin’s foolish actions would only increase his burdens. Barend must take care of the situation himself. Or die trying.

Fox paced restlessly on deck. He was angry with Inda, angry with Barend, angry with Dasta and Jeje. He knew they hadn’t yapped
yet
about the treasure to anyone else, but how long would they hold out?

If only they wanted it for honest purposes, like buying a tavern. Or a castle. Or wasting it on a year-long orgy. He could stomach just about any motivation except a reward going to the soul-cursed Montrei-Vayirs. He hadn’t eaten for days because his gut burned with fury.

Jeje had slithered the cutter to the far side of
Cocodu
, which meant she was head-to-head with Dasta now, and thought he didn’t see her.

He didn’t think they were stupid, or desperate, enough to loose the secret in order to raise a mutiny. True he’d be dead if he was wrong, but they had to see that the fleet would promptly turn on itself. Fangras and those others had wanted one thing out of Inda: wins. They would never loot a treasure and take the gold tamely to wherever it was Barend had appointed . . .

Ah, no use in arguing inside his head. Time to act.

“Signal, Pilvig.”

She backed up a couple of steps from that venomous glare.

“
Cocodu, Vixen
captains, meet on shore.” Then Fox turned Barend’s way. “You, too.”

He turned back to Pilvig and issued a stream of orders to be signaled. Then he went back to his cabin to prepare.

When the tide turned as the sun sank, the fleet had anchored and liberty boats were lowered.

Barend climbed silently into the captain’s gig and dropped in the bow. Fox settled into the stern sheets as the gig crew picked up their oars. He kept his glass to his eye, watching as he checked the lantern-lit liberty boats swarming toward shore. The sailors sat soberly, the signal orders having been explicit about what would happen if they did not keep order.

When his gig reached the white sands of the shore, he leaped out, Barend behind him. Dasta and Jeje waited, backed by Gillor. Just beyond them, Nugget marched past Mutt, nose in the air. Mutt slouched, knowing he wasn’t wanted, but the other young mates had wheedled him into staying to find out what was going on.

“Go away,” Fox said to Mutt.

Mutt was glad whatever had hit the ground back there wasn’t sticking to his feet. Nugget flounced ahead, chin up, swinging the long silken fringe of the scarf she had taken to winding around her stump. Mutt loped after her, heels kicking up arcs of fine white sand.

Gillor remained where she was. Her frequent glances toward Jeje made it clear she knew there was trouble, but not exactly what.

Inda hadn’t told Gillor about the treasure, but that did not mean she hadn’t guessed. She returned Fox’s gaze, flushing in the bobbing lantern-light of the last straggling sailors as Fox flipped his fingers at her. “Go get drunk, Gillor,” he said.

“Why can’t she stay?” Jeje snarled, arms crossed.

“Because I’m not going to discuss my plans until she’s gone.”

Gillor flipped up the back of her hand in a not-quite-humorous gesture, then stalked toward the city, the last of those on liberty.

When her blue silk shirt was just a pale starlit blob against the silhouetted buildings, Fox said, “At dawn we’ll take
Vixen
. See if it’s still there. Then discuss the next step.”

“You mean, kill us all at a comfortable distance from these townies?” Jeje jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

“How long would I get away with that? Use your brains, Jeje,” Fox snapped back impatiently. “You and Dasta vanish and they’ll all be howling with questions. The choice I see is between some sensible plan—which has nothing to do with pouring gold down the Marlovan rat hole—or just breaking the secret, come one come all, sit back, and enjoy the merry bloodshed and greed.”

“Inda needs it,” Barend said.

“Then Inda should have come and got it,” Fox retorted.

Barend shut up.

“Dawn? Here? Agreed? All four of us? If you insist,” Fox drawled, “I’ll emulate Inda’s heroic gesture and leave my weapons behind when we go over to the island.”

“Do that,” Jeje snapped.

“Oh, shit,” Dasta exclaimed. “I hate this. Yeah, dawn, but as far as I’m concerned, let ’em all have it. Or better, we just sail away and leave it. Like we did before. I don’t like what that gold is doing to
us
. If we give out the secret, half the fleet will be dead by morning. More.”

“It might not even be there,” Fox reminded them. “We don’t know for certain that our little excursion went unnoticed. Or that someone local had not read that book and found out that the last of the pirates who’d been stationed on the island to kill anyone who landed had all hunted and killed one another.”

“Leaving it to the ghosts.” Jeje chuckled.

There were nods and grunts of agreement, then they all turned away. Fox and Barend walked up the shore side by side, neither speaking.

Jeje and Dasta joined Gillor, who had waited at the edge of the beach where the brick terrace began.

“Why aren’t those two fighting a duel?” Gillor asked, jerking her chin toward Fox and Barend.

“They’re Marlovans.” Jeje snorted. “You
know
nothing they do ever makes any sense.”

“Right. So this doesn’t happen to concern Inda’s clinking bags that day you all came back in the
Vixen
just before the storm, does it?” she asked, when Barend and Fox were well out of earshot.

Jeje sighed.

A corner of Dasta’s mouth turned up. “I’d say, my promise was only to Inda. So if you were to, oh, show your face at dawn, why not see what happens?”

“Huh.” Gillor snorted. “I might at that.”

Mutt caught up with Nugget just before reaching the edge of the main road. “I can show you where to go,” he said tentatively. “Since you never saw this place.”

She tossed her hair back. “I thought I’d wait for Eflis.”

He walked away.

She waited for the space of three breaths, not believing he was just going to leave.

“So much for you keeping your promises,” Nugget yelled.

Mutt stopped, his shoulders going tight. Then he kept walking.

She pounded after. “You’re a liar. And stupid!”

He turned around at last. “Go howl at Eflis, if you’re so in love with her.” He walked on.

When Eflis and Sparrow caught up, there was a woebegone Nugget, teary-eyed, waiting. Eflis held out her arms, and Nugget threw herself into them. “You can bunk in with us,” Eflis said, running her fingers through Nugget’s curls as the girl sniffed and pressed against her.

Sparrow remained silent.

Jeje and Dasta stayed in a pleasure house on a narrow street. They met outside just as the sun began to lift in the east. Dawn came fast this far north.

At the intersection they found Gillor leaning against a wall from which she could see the shore as well as both ends of the street. She’d propped a foot behind her, and she was honing one of her knives on a whetstone. “Mornin’.”

“Seen anyone?”

“Not a soul. Or, none of ours.
Vixen
’s out on the water, bowsed up tight.” She tipped her head seaward, where bare poles of the fleet’s landing craft gently bobbled on the rippling water,
Vixen
and the fleet in the middle.

“Barend?”

“Didn’t Fox make him rack up in the same place he stays?”

They all turned their heads toward the top of the hill, where the huge Pirate House stood. Lights gleamed on its lower level. Someone had obviously moved in since they were here with Inda.

On their first visit, Fox had dossed in an inn directly across the street from Pirate House so he could watch over Inda’s comings and goings. He had to be at that same inn; they all knew he avoided pleasure houses when possible.

“I still don’t know if he likes men or women,” Gillor commented as they trod up the steep street.

“Neither. Snakes,” Jeje cracked.

Dasta hooted with laughter, and Gillor said, “Jeje, that’s disgusting.”

“For the snakes,” Jeje returned, her low, husky voice almost bass.

They all laughed, then ventured increasingly ridiculous ideas of Fox’s style of wooing. Not that it was easy to imagine an amorous Fox. The raillery, however funny, sent a pang through Gillor.

They reached the inn, and Dasta volunteered to go roust the laze-offs. Jeje agreed, with some regret: her preference would be to kick Fox out of bed, but she suspected that would be a very brief pleasure, and likely her last.

She and Gillor remained outside, talking low-voiced out of regard for the bedroom windows open just above. They jumped when Dasta reappeared, eyes wide and furious.

“Barend’s up there snoring like he’s going to sleep for a week,” he whispered, almost strangling in an effort to keep his voice down. All of them were mindful of “making trouble.”