The Pirate’s Way
S tevic took a last look at the king sitting relaxed in his throne chair as the large fans wielded by his slaves waved gently up and down, up and down.
Then he glanced at the expectant faces of his crew.
They’d served the clan for years. Sevano and Eloni he had known since his days aboard the pirate ship, Gold Hunter.
Melry, whom he should not have allowed to come, stood taut, ready, her expression eager.
Beyond his crew, he was surprised to find that his Kir-kranyan porters had remained. There were ten of them. He’d have thought they’d have waited at their ease in the courtyard.
The throne room was much smaller than King Zachary’s, more intimate, and it remained to be seen if this was an advantage or a disadvantage.
“G’ladheon,” the king said, “it is the time of rest. Do you have something to show us, or not?”
Indeed, some of the courtiers were already snoozing. Most, but not the slaves or servants or guards, napped during the hottest part of the day.
“A moment, Your Majesty,” Stevic replied. He turned to Sevano. “Let us open the chest.” And so, it had come to doing things the pirate’s way.
He saw the subtle changes in his crew, how their stances grew more rigid and the tension in their faces increased.
“Aye, Chief,” Sevano said, sounding surprisingly normal.
He and Eloni knelt before the chest and inserted keys into the padlocks. There were three, and when all were open, Sevano glanced at Stevic. Stevic nodded, though there was a good chance this was suicide.
Just as Sevano started to lift the lid, a pair of Varosian soldiers rushed in and prostrated themselves before the king, speaking excitedly in their own tongue. The king stood.
Stevic indicated that Sevano should close the lid of the chest.
“What is it?” he asked Sil.
“Most incredible,” the interpreter replied. “The Kir-kranyans are rising up and attacking the city and palace.”
“What?”
The king shouted and gesticulated. The somnolent courtiers startled to wakefulness. The two soldiers who had delivered the news to the king started to leave at a trot, but one suddenly fell, and there was a flash of silver that toppled the second, a knife in his throat.
Stevic glanced at the porters astonished to see them draw long, slim knives and daggers from concealment in their clothes, and with a roar, charge into the midst of the throne room to battle the guards who were only just realizing they were under assault. Sil ran away.
This was no coincidence, and he thought back to Master Hunt’s feigned disinterest in the relations between the Varosians and Kir-kranyans. Briefly he wondered how the spy had arranged the diversion. However he had managed it, it was just what they needed.
“Sevano!” he cried.
Sevano threw open the lid of the chest and within gleamed their cache of weapons. Melry and his crew grabbed their swords.
“Kill only in self-defense,” Stevic reminded them. “Our only goal is to retrieve Colonel Mapstone and get out.”
To that end, Melry had already dashed past the Kir-kranyans to the screen. Stevic swore and grabbed his sword from the chest and hurried after her, his crew on his heels.
King Farrad Vir, meanwhile, had disappeared, and the courtiers had scattered.
He leaped over the corpse of one of the guards, ducked beneath the thrust of a sword, and skidded on the smooth marble floor when he reached Melry’s side.
He helped her tear down the lattice screen, and there, calmly seated upon a pillow and draped in robes, her face veiled revealing only hazel eyes, sat Laren Mapstone.
“Laren!” he said.
She looked up at him. The sounds of fighting grew distant as he waited for her to register recognition of him, or to speak. Had they done something to her mind to make her forget?
“A thousand kersats?” she asked finally. “Really, Stevic. Is that all I’m worth to you?”
He let go a great breath of relief. “And much more besides. But now we must get you out of here.”
“And about time,” she replied. “Help me up.”
He and Melry each grabbed a hand and pulled her to her feet.
“Many thanks,” she said. “I sit so long in that position my joints lock up. Melry?”
“Momma!”
Mother and daughter fiercely embraced.
“I was never so happy as when I heard you were all right,” Laren said.
Stevic wondered when she’d heard that. He wouldn’t have minded hugging her, himself, but it would have to wait. “We have to go. There is no telling how this thing with the Kir-kranyans is going to play out, and we may not have much time.”
The throne room had emptied but for themselves and corpses.
“Laren,” he said softly.
Mother and daughter pulled apart, both with tears in their eyes. Laren yanked her veil off and let it fall to the floor. “Not yet.”
“What?”
“I need to warn the ladies, the wives, daughters, and concubines.”
“What are you talking about? We need to leave.”
“It is not far,” she said, “and they’d be a vulnerable target of the rebels.”
She lifted the hem of her robes and hastened toward a side door.
“Chief?” Sevano said.
Stevic shrugged. “She outranks me.” He charged after the impossible woman, his crew right behind him.
The corridor outside of the throne room connected to a gallery that was open to the gardens on either side.
It was quiet but for bird song, no one to be seen.
Laren veered down an adjoining corridor.
At its end was a large door guarded by two brawny men.
At the approach of Stevic’s party, they drew their swords.
Laren spoke rapidly in Varosian to them, but their expressions were scornful and they would not look at her bare face.
“Idiots,” Laren said. “They won’t listen to anything I say. The women’s quarters are beyond the door.”
“We will have to take them down, then,” Stevic said.
“They’re guarding the women,” she told him. “Don’t—”
Another man came down the corridor and exclaimed at the sight of the Sacoridians.
“Navid,” Laren said, “these are friends of mine.”
The man, Navid, was older and had a long white beard. A gold disk glinted on his neck and Stevic realized this was a favored servant. A slave.
“The palace is under attack by Kir-kranyan rebels,” she explained. “I want to ensure the women are safe.”
“What? Under attack? I must go to the king immediately.”
“Could you please tell these guards to let me through so I can situate the women?”
It had to be difficult, Stevic thought, for her to rely on a man to give the order.
Navid gave Stevic and his crew a suspicious glance. “Then what will you do?”
“Go home,” she replied brightly.
“You cannot. You are the king’s revered truth-teller. This is your home now.”
“I was King Zachary’s truth-teller before I was stolen from my homeland,” she said. “Varos will never be my home. I ask for your help for the sake of the women.”
Navid seemed to struggle with himself. He was no warrior, and would not attempt to stop them, but he could choose not to help.
“Please, Navid,” Laren said. “We can take you with us. We can return you to Bince, and you can be free again.”
“ No. This may not be your home, but it is mine now. This is my life.”
“Well, then at least let me make sure the women are safe in case the Kir-kranyans find their way here.”
Navid gave her a curt nod. “For the sake of the women.” He spoke in Varosian to the guards. They glanced at one another, and then opened the door.
“Thank you, Navid,” she told him.
“I have only ever wished the best for you, Laren Mapstone,” he replied, “but know I shall inform the king of your escape.” With one last look, he hurried down the corridor.
“Shouldn’t we detain him?” Stevic asked. “Might he warn someone you are escaping?”
“My guess is that the Varosians have bigger problems to worry about.” She briefly smiled, then strode for the doorway.
Stevic and his crew made to rush after her, but the guards blocked them.
“No,” Laren told Stevic. “Only women are allowed. Melry can come, but the rest of you will have to wait.” When the guards balked at letting Melry in because of her disguise, Laren said something in Varosian. They gave Melry a hard look, but no longer impeded her.
“Be quick,” Stevic called after them.
He paced, worrying every moment they’d be caught trying to steal King Farrad Vir’s priceless truth-teller.
There was not-too-distant shouting and sounds of fighting now.
The guards exchanged a few words, then one of them trotted off in the direction of the activity.
The other remained at his post, keeping close watch over Stevic and his companions.
Stevic was considering charging into the women’s quarters to hurry Laren up, when she and Melry finally emerged, followed by about twenty women and girls, each robed and veiled.
The guard yelled at them, presumably telling them to go back inside.
Laren started to reply, but he just yelled over her.
Stevic gripped the hilt of his sword. Just then, one of the women flung out a long wooden rod, possibly a broomstick, and walloped the guard over the head.
The shouting ceased and he swooned to the floor, unconscious.
“Well done, Amina,” Laren told the woman. Then to Stevic, she said, “Let’s go.”
“Them, too?” he asked, nodding at the women.
“They were stolen from their families from many different lands,” she replied. “Like me. They wish to go home.”
She ran to the lead, her robes gusting out behind her. He laughed to himself. This wasn’t to be the pirate’s way, after all, but Laren’s way. He followed along with everyone else, a big grin on his face. Gods, he loved that woman!