Chapter Seven After #3
Already she could tell Osprin was less shepherd, more wolf.
“I mean during the occupation, Lady Rose,” he said slowly. “When Archenport was overthrown, and the city answered to no king but Captain Morovant.”
Cat could not help but feel a twinge of annoyance. There is no such thing as a king amongst pirates, she wanted to say, but held her tongue, her demure mask fixed in place.
“No, my lord,” she said again, careful to keep her voice soft and measured. “I kept to myself during the occupation. And did what I could to survive such years, as did many citizens of Archenport.”
Osprin gave her a piercing look, almost accusatory in nature. “Ten years is quite a time for a proper lady to survive alone.”
Ten years. Some dark, some frustrating, some wonderful. But all my own.
“Unfortunately, my late husband did not leave me with many options.” The words came easily.
They were the truth, after all. She sighed, lowering her eyes, making herself a thing to pity, a simple woman put upon by circumstance, innocent and useless to the great doings of the world.
“I would have starved to death had I stayed on Rosby. I was lucky to make a home here in the city.”
The governor watched her as if she were a weight to be balanced. Cat let him look.
“I suppose Archenport does pass for a city here in the islands,” the governor mused, his disdain plain to see. “But why not return home? Why not make the crossing back to Meridia and the Empire? So many did, after the city fell to thugs and thieves.”
Cat bit her lip in a melancholy display. “My family is not . . . well fortuned. I would have been a burden to them.”
It was also the truth. She shuddered to think what her fate would have been, returning to the house in the Meridian countryside, far from anything of use or interest. With only her mother lamenting her lost family titles, and her foolhardy sisters squandering what money they had left.
Or so it had been ten years ago. She doubted their prospects had changed for the better, if her mother was still alive at all.
“Well, I am glad you stayed,” Osprin offered, tapping a map on the desk. Despite his words, she heard no gratitude in his voice. Only a challenge. “Captain Fell tells me you were instrumental in our efforts against the pirate horde.”
Cat held his gaze, even as her grip tightened on the arm of her seat.
“I did what I thought was right,” she said, her head still high. “What was just.”
“Just?” Osprin echoed.
Again, Cat felt herself poised on the game board.
“Yes, my lord,” she replied, choosing her move. “Just.”
Something gleamed in Osprin, his eyes like the business end of a sword. His smile widened, sharper than any smile she had ever seen.
“Lady Rose, there is no such thing as justice in this world,” he said. “Not here in this island backwater, nor in the marble halls of the Justiciary Court. And certainly not on the sea, where all that matters is the sail above you, the waves below, and the storm ahead.”
Cat moved again, watching his face.
“I pray to the gods such storms are behind us now,” she said, tapping at her collarbone. Right, middle, left. Heaven, earth, hell. A sign of the gods, to seal oaths or ward off danger.
Osprin rolled his eyes. “Save your prayers for the priests, they mean little to me.”
No love for the Church, Cat noted, the cut of the governor’s character coming into clearer and more terrible focus.
“My lord, I am flattered to have been summoned here . . .” she offered.
His dark brow furrowed. “Summoned from the depths of my prisons, a warrant for your execution dangling over your head.”
“Like I said. I am flattered by your attention,” Cat continued cooly, taking the threat for what it was. “Misplaced as it is.”
“Misplaced?” At that, he barked a coarse laugh, so rough, Cat assumed he did not laugh much at all. “You spoke of justice, Lady Rose. What justice should you face for your own crimes?”
She could not help but pull her lips into a thin smile. “You said yourself, there is no such thing as justice in this world.”
Osprin turned to one of his fastidious piles of parchment, raising a sheet. He squinted at it, betraying his failing eyes.
Such is the way with sailors, Cat knew. Too much time spent squinting into the distance or against the glare of sunlight on waves.
“Aiding and abetting piracy,” he read, as if summarizing a shopping order for the market. “Providing provisions, shelter, and intelligence to sailors of the so-called pirate republic. Fraternization of the highest and most demeaning order.”
Demeaning.
But for her rigidly held composure, Cat would have laughed in Osprin’s face. Judging by the stiff set of his posture, he could do with some demeaning himself.
“I will not bother to recite the names of your associates; there are simply too many.” He eyed her over the page, lip curled with disgust. “All great crimes against the Crown and Empire. And one cannot forget, of course, the charge of murder.” Osprin’s voice was steady and sure.
“That is not a stain even you can wash away. No matter what deals you struck, or what promises Captain Fell made you.”
A thousand responses died in Cat’s mouth, each one more useless than the last. She wanted to deny the charges outright or revel in them. Both would end the same way—the gallows.
“Am I to be permitted a trial, at least?” Cat said, clinging to her air of detachment.
“Were this Brycam City, perhaps,” Osprin replied, shrugging broad shoulders. “But we are a long way from the Empire.”
His meaning was infinitely clear.
I am the law here.
In her head, Cat turned over her last card left to play. She hated that Jasper Fell gave it to her.
“Then ask what you must ask about Valerian Kane,” she said, forcing the name out, no matter the pain it brought her. “Or let me hang.”
For the first time since she entered the study, the governor startled, surprised by her response. Something flickered across his face, something like respect.
It felt like a point won in whatever game he was making her play. And it gave Cat a heading.
Which point on the compass to follow to her advantage, and her survival.
Osprin was not a man who wanted a subject.
He wanted an opponent.
“When I was an admiral in His Majesty’s navy, I served through the wars with Anticles and Esperin and the Rijkstad, year after year, decade after decade,” he continued. “There was blood. There was hardship. But there was order. Victory, surrender, treaties. Lands ceded or won.”
His fingers curled, his hand becoming a closed fist.
“It is not so here.”
Cat felt a wry smile spread across her face.
“Welcome to the Lyrian Sea,” she said, an echo of the same words Valerian had told her long ago.
The governor huffed.
“The Lyrian Sea. You speak of this place as if it were its own kingdom and not simply another land to conquer,” he added, grinning wide.
His gums were bright red, unsettlingly so.
“That is why I was sent here, after so many lords just like your husband. To tame this place. They were not conquerors, as much as they thought themselves masters of the world. But I am a conqueror, Lady Rose. So say the flag in my harbor and the corpse king in front of your door.”
Cat tried not to think of Morovant nailed to his post, and the little boy tasked with fighting off the hungry crows. She saw them both anyway, a pair of rotting ghosts.