Chapter Six #2
“Surely you have some answers,” I said, tugging a tangle free with such strength that my eyes watered. The rain soaking the balcony began to creep inside, so I closed the door. The sky lit up. Feet wet with rainwater, I stepped onto a thick rug to dry them.
“The crew are happy, drunk, well fed. A few are enjoying the company of whores. I have spoken to no one other than the owner of the inne who threatened me with a dagger if any of our crew stole so much as a dinner bun.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve not yet met with anyone aside from that shitful prig.”
“Sorry, I’m feeling a bit like a sow at a fancy gala,” I confessed, sitting down beside her. “My thoughts heave port to starboard so suddenly it makes even a seasoned sailor like me bilious.”
“To be expected, given what’s taking place.
” She dug into her front pocket to remove a long-handled pipe and a pouch of tobacco.
Without asking, she packed her pipe and reached over to pluck a candle from the table to light the dark, heady blend of leaves that had been soaked in molasses.
The smoke was sweet, the aroma dense. She offered the pipe to me.
I took a few puffs and passed it back, the familiar motions soothing. “Met the king yet?”
“Aye,” I said, staring at the sudden storm through a fog of smoke and rain-spattered glass. “He seems kind, intelligent, and eager for me to be his long-lost brother.”
“Hmm, well, the poor thing has lost every family member he had.” She sighed out a cloud of smoke that hung in the air before floating to the ceiling to swirl about. The circling of the smoke ring reminded me of the dark dream that I had. A tickle of unease made the fine hairs on my arms rise.
“True, but for a man who rules a country, his hunger for us to be proven brothers, given my human taint, is befuddling. Could he truly yearn for a sibling so badly that he’d be willing to take a carousing pirate?”
“Mayhap. Hard to say what goes on in the skulls of the nobility.” She handed me the pipe again.
“True.” I puffed a bit and gave it back.
“I called you here for a few reasons. One is that Prescott is having one of his deep sleeps but will waken soon. Given the staff here in Avolire have fainted in fear in great numbers, I was hoping you would sit with him while I dine with the king and his family this evening?”
“I can do that. He’d come awake and not find you then start to wail.”
“Aye, and that will only upset the delicate constitutions of the staff so best to avoid wailing. He knows you. He’ll be happy to read or play cards.
” She nodded, the pipe smoke curling around her head.
“I also have messages that need to be sent. I’d like you to do that for me.
I don’t want them to be intercepted here if I use the royal rookery.
Find Beiro. He should be in the barracks with the other scouts.
I think they may have a section to themselves. Have him instruct his crow—”
“Raven,” she corrected, snorting at my flat expression.
“Aye, his raven, to deliver them to Bally Pikeson in Quinn’s Quay. He’ll hand them out to the various captains who come to the tobacco warehouse.”
“Anything else?” She tucked the notes down into her hollow leg.
“Nay, not that I can think of right now.” Bells rang out. Six peals. “That’s the call to evening prayers.” I sat back, pulled a bottle of wine out from under the covers, tugged the cork free with my teeth, and offered the bottle to Hyla. “Thank the witches that we’re reprobates and heathens.”
“To heathens,” she stated before downing a long pull.
“Long may we heath,” I added, which made her cackle like a hen pushing out an egg.
With the help of my first mate—after spurning the valet and royal barber sent to fuss over my clothes, my hair, and my face—I found myself ready for a meal with the king, his queen, and his consorts.
Hyla had chosen one of my favorite outfits.
Tight black breeches, a plum-toned shirt, a black sash about my middle, and ebony boots to my knees.
My eating dagger was tucked into the sash.
Knowing the guards would not allow a renegade such as me into the private royal chambers with my cutlass, I left it tucked under the fat mattress of my bed.
The rain continued to pelt down in angry sheets as I slid rings onto my fingers, Hyla smoking away as she regaled me with tales of meeting and bedding a prince many seasons ago.
“…poor bugger never did recover well. Left my chambers with a decided limp.” I turned from the looking glass over the dresser to face her.
She lowered her pipe and gave me a proud nod of her head.
“You cut a fine figure, Captain. They’ll be swivel-eyed trying to fixate on one part of you to admire. ”
“Doubtful. The queen will stare at my neck as she imagines how neatly the ax of the royal executioner can sever it from my shoulders.” I pulled some gold bangles onto my wrists, tossed my hair back, and squared my shoulders.
“I’ll try not to be too late. I cannot imagine they’ll want to linger over cordials with me. ”
“Then they are fools,” she countered. I crossed the room to drop a kiss on her brow. She waved me off with a smoking pipe that made my eyes water. “Get your arse moving. Not good making them wait.”
“Yes, but the nobles let us poor bastards wait,” I replied and got a grunt of agreement. Peeking at the pile of snoring blankets in the hearth, I crept past Prescott to slip out of the door, much like parents sneaking off to a night on the town while leaving the child with the mother-in-law.
“I’m to go to the king’s solar,” I told random guard number four.
The other three stayed outside my door. The troll being the larger danger obviously.
Guard four did not speak to me, she simply led me through winding corridors, up a flight of stairs, past more doors, before finally pausing outside a doorway with two royal guards flanking it.
“I’m here for dinner and polite conversation.
Perhaps if the night goes well, we might play a game of Moss and Mischief.
If the cards trigger well, I may win a crown. ”
Neither of the guards enjoyed my joke. Instead of tittering, they patted me down.
Sighing, for this was not the first time I had been searched for hidden blades nor would it be the last, I stood in the hall, legs spread while my arms were out to the sides, making eyes at a footman arriving with tiny finger bowls with scented water.
He blushed. I winked. One of the guards massaged my balls with enough vigor to make me grunt.
“If you keep rolling my stones about, you’ll find a meaty sword in my breeches,” I tossed out to make the servant with the pretty blue-green eyes flush a bit deeper.
“Uncouth sea scum,” the older guard growled low and deep before shoving me through the door that the other guard opened for the footman. We both entered ungraciously, him spilling some of the scented water, me trying not to tumble the servant. Not yet anyway.
Four sets of eyes flew from the storm raging outside to me. The servant bowed and scuttled off to place his bowls on the large table set for five. A flash of disappointment ran through me at not seeing Le’ral present nor a place setting for him.
I flashed a broad grin at the king, his queen, and the two royal consorts before executing a deep bow.
“Captain, please come in,” Aelir called from the double doors where the foursome stood in casual but elegant clothes.
I entered, the door closing behind me as the servant dashed off. Pity. Perhaps he would be back to serve and I could get his name. Visiting the staff quarters was always fun.
“Your Majesties. So sorry for my clumsiness. Still trying to locate my land legs.” I gave the massive room a fast once-over, finding where any exits were in case I needed to make a hasty departure.
The room was wide and open with a large stone fireplace—containing a small fire to chase off the dampness of the storm instead of a sleeping troll—chaises with plump pillows, tables with oil lamps besides piles of books, and a long wood table ready for the evening meal.
Over the table hung a massive chandelier carved from buttery wood by the hand of a skilled wood elf, for no others could craft wood in such a divine manner.
Perhaps a gift from a warden of the woods to the king.
I found no ready exits other than the sodden balcony.
“Not to worry. We all trip and stumble on occasion,” Aelir said, breaking from the tight-knit of his dour-looking spouses.
Was that a reminder for those gathered to be nice to those who the crown felt might be redeemable?
What I did, who I was, was not a fumble.
I was who I was, who I was born to be, who the Cadere line needed to carry on as all the other males in my father’s ancestors had done for hundreds of seasons.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. My gaze was occupied by the splendor of your solar,” I lied, but the untruth was taken with a smile by the king.
“We enjoy our time here. Come.” He motioned me forward. “Meet the rest of my family.”
I moved closer, stopping a few feet from the tall human woman. She and I were of similar heights, her gold hair drawn back in a severe knot, her clothing costly but plain. Light blue eyes ran over me with no desire other than to locate my vital points.