The Wrath of a Shipless Pirate (The Godlanders War) (7 page)

“It will be no easy task.”

Corin clapped the innkeeper on the shoulder. “I am no
normal
thief.”

“Then ask anything you need of me, and it is yours. I speak for this chapter of the Nimble Fingers, and I will guarantee you anything Marzelle can hope to offer.”

“But all I ask is news. There is a nobleman’s son of the house Vestossi who, for some time, sailed under the pirate name of Ethan Blake. Some months ago, he gained and lost his first command.”

“You called him Ethan Blake?”

“Aye, just so. Find out what has become of him. And he had with him a desert girl named Iryana. I must know her fate a
s w
ell.”

“Iryana. His
…
mistress?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps his slave. Perhaps his victim. I do no
t know.”

“We will do our best to discover it.”

“Good. And find Ben Strunk for me. He’s most likely to be—”

The innkeeper interrupted to clarify. “Another pirate?”

Corin gaped. “You don’t know Ben Strunk? Well, there’s another favor you will owe me. He is no pirate. He does not belong to the Nimble Fingers either, but he loves to patronize our taverns.”

“Is he a spy? A justicar?”

“Gods’ blood, your heart is grim. He’s no kind of foe. He is just a dwarf who loves to drink and lose at cards. And he’s a close friend of mine.”

“Then we will find him for you.”

“I’ll be grateful for it. And last, when I have made Marzelle safe for you once more, I will ask your aid in finding me this druid. She too is a friend. Or
…
I hope for her to be.”

The innkeeper paused, clearly reviewing Corin’s requests, and after a moment he nodded. “All these things can be done. And if you but rid us of the Captain, they all together will not be reward enough.”

“Then I will also let you find some easy retirement for a friend of mine. A former pirate who goes by Charlie Claire.”

“It seems a fair exchange.”

Corin fetched a tiny silver ring out from his purse. It was a thing of no great value, but it was sufficient for a pledge. The rules insisted coin could not be used, so Corin always carried something of the sort.

He slapped it down on the bar. “You have my pledge according to the rules. I will free this town from Dave Taker and his men.”

The innkeeper produced an empty leather sheath, something fitting for a lady’s tiny poniard, but decorated in gemstone flakes and delicate gold leaf. “You have my pledge as well. Let it be done.”

Corin finished off his beer, glad to have a plan at last, then settled in to sort out the fine details.

T
he surgeon who came for Josef was no druid, but he seemed a quality physician. Once old Josef was on his feet, the two of them shared a friendly pint, and then Corin asked someone to show the doctor across town to look in on Charlie Claire. It felt a small price after all of Charlie’s loyalty.

But mostly Corin focused on the traitors. He learned
everything
he could from the locals, and everything pointed back to Dave Taker. All their troubles had started back in April, shortly after Corin disappeared. For a while, there had been an uneasy peace, brokered by an unseen pirate who called himself “the Captain.” That
had
to be Ethan Blake. Corin was sure of it.

He’d come to town with a small fortune to spare, and he’d spent it buying out the local watchmen and justices. Those few who wouldn’t tender to Ithalian silver disappeared. For a while, the Nimble Fingers had considered it a luxury.

But then, some weeks back, the Captain had disappeared. H
e lef
t an authority in his place, and that one went by “the First Mate.” He was the man so fiercely despised by Marzelle’s citizens, for he had ruled through violence and force. He’d crushed the Nimble Fingers and anyone else who had threatened either his authority or wealth.

Discussing all this with the innkeeper, Corin had tried to offer help. “That must be Dave Taker, though I’ve never known him to think so big.”

The innkeeper shrugged. “It might well be. He’s never used an honest name.”

“How can that be?”

“He never needed one. The Captain came with silver enough to justify his quirks, and the First Mate has operated under the authority that silver purchased.”

“Then I’ll describe Dave Taker to you.”

“No better. We have never seen the First Mate at all.”

Corin rocked back. “Absurd! How can he run this town without someone in your organization encountering him? There should at least be rumors.”

“Of course, but the rumors paint him ten feet tall with pointy teeth and claws for hands.”

“And none of you has gone in person to find out?”

“That’s what I’m telling you! There is no ‘in person’ with this man. He reigns by proxy. In all his time here, he has never shown his face.”

Corin’s shoulders sagged. “Well, this I can believe.
The Vesto
ssis have always loved their paranoia. But it’s an
opportunity
too.”

“What opportunity?”

“If he reigns by proxy, and if I can remove him, someone else can step into his place. Someone like you or Josef. And simply use his proxies to your own ends.”

The innkeeper whistled in stunned admiration. “You are a devious creature. But no.”

“What? Why not?”

“You do not understand how cruel this man has been. Who of us could bear to step into his role? Even as a farce. No. We won’t.”

Corin licked his lips. “That’s fine. That’s fine. I will remove him all the same.”

“But how?”

“Where does he hide? Can you at least tell me that much?”

“He lives aboard his ship, the
Espinola
. As far as we can tell, he never leaves. Magistrates and justices and even local lords will sometimes come and go, but they speak only with his concierge.”

“Then how can they even know they’re truly dealing with the Captain’s man?”

“Those who defy the orders they receive invariably
…
suffer. Lord Béthané’s manor burned to the ground, his wife and child still inside it. The Marquis’s prize thoroughbreds were butchered to the last and left to rot in their own paddocks.

Corin shuddered. “This sounds like Dave Taker and h
is me
n.”

“And those who obey their orders are handsomely rewarded. But it is fear, not love, that grants the Captain and his First Mate such authority.”

Corin spent a moment thinking. “What has been tried already?”

“The Marquis did send a plea to the court at Pri for aid.”

Corin scoffed. “And I suspect they answered that this was a local matter.”

“To be resolved by local authorities. Exactly so. Lord Béthané roused his own armed militia to take the ship or sink it.”

Corin sighed. “And his militia was cut down. Did they even make it to the piers?”

“Only a handful. Most of them died in the streets while crossing town.”

Corin nodded. “Aye. I’d have done the same. But what has the Nimble Fingers done?”

Surprise and incomprehension reigned in the innkeeper’s expression. “The Nimble Fingers? We have done everything within our power to keep concealed and keep alive.”

“You haven’t fought him? When he’s been hanging your
people
in the streets?”

“We’re thieves. We aren’t soldiers.”

Corin stopped himself short of shouting. Would
he
have done anything, before he rose to captain of a pirate ship? Likely not. Even then, it might have been the visit to Jezeeli that finally forged him into a man of action.

But now he had seen too clearly the cost of inaction in the face of tyranny. Such monsters knew no bounds, and any price was a fair one if it could strip them of their power.

Corin closed his hand around the grip of the sword
Godslayer
and caught the innkeeper’s eye. “This darkness is nearly at an end. But first, I ask you to prepare me something warm and rich to eat, and pick out a room for me.”

“You will rest? Now?”

“It has been two months since I last had something real to eat, longer since I slept. Besides, it will take some time for my plan to be set in motion.”

“Then you
have
devised a plan?”

“I have.”

“Will you tell it?”

Corin thought a moment and shrugged. “It is very much like Béthané’s except that I will go alone. And I will do what he cou
ld no
t.”

“How?”

Corin grinned. “In much the same way I defeated Josef here. I am one of them, and I am worse than them. They will never see me coming.”

Corin set out at dawn, with encouragement from the innkeeper and a hearty breakfast warming his belly. He had to cross half the town again to reach the port, but this time he didn’t skulk. He went boldly by the light of day, and his longblack cloak flared around him. He pretended not to notice when a deckhand from Bad Brandon’s crew recognized him. Carl? Cane? Something of the sort. From the corner of his eye, Corin watched the man’s burst of recognition shift to surprise, and surprise to dark
ambition
. After all, there would be some reward to the man who informed the First Mate that Corin Hugh was in town.

So Corin marched on, apparently oblivious, as Carl or Cane or Connor—whoever he was—sprinted off toward the docks. Corin allowed himself a fraction of a smile as he went on.

Three more old acquaintances repeated Carl’s performance, and then a fourth surprised Corin. It was Lucky Lou, a gray-haired, stringy old veteran who had served with Corin on Old Grim’s crew years ago.

Lucky Lou didn’t run for the docks; he ran to intercept Corin. He didn’t pretend any ignorance either. He’d always been a straight talker. “It’s a fool move, son. I don’t care what you’ve heard, it don’t apply to you. Get out of town.”

Corin answered in the same low tone. “I appreciate the
warning
, old man. More than you can know. But nothing’s changing my resolve, and they might make you regret stopping to talk with me.”

“Regret is a young man’s vice, Corin. The only people in the world with that power over me are Old Grim and Ephitel
himself
.” He went two paces in silence, then sighed. “And right this moment, you. I don’t want to see you dead over some
blasted ship
.”

“It’s not the ship.”

“Fine. Some blasted mutiny. Not much difference in my books. Listen to an old man’s experience: Count yourself lucky that you survived, and find some new endeavor.”

Corin shared a smile. “I’ve found one. I’m doing a favor for the good people of Marzelle.”

“Pfft! Not much reward in public service. Would you really spill a drop of blood for a few stinking Raentzmen?”

“I’d spill all of Dave Taker’s.”

“You mean Tommy Day’s?”

“I mean every rat left of that crew, if I get the chance. Ethan Blake too.”

Something in that name snapped Lou’s patient resolve. He stopped in his tracks, knotted a fist in Corin’s shirt, and pulled him close. Eyes flashing and voice cast low, he said, “Hear me, son, because wherever you’ve been lately, you’ve lost your
bearings
good. Ethan Blake is a Vestossi, Dave Taker owns a port in Raentz, and Tommy Day kills off regiments for sport. These are the men you want to tangle with.”

Every bit as serious, Corin answered him. “I don’t much care what his father’s name is. I plan to put an end to Ethan Blake.”

Lucky Lou snorted. “As well say you plan to pick a fight with Ephitel. You can’t tangle with a Vestossi.”

Corin weighed his answer. It served him naught to tip his hand, but he couldn’t stop himself. He shrugged. “One thing at a time.”

Lou shook him like a child’s doll. “I’m not joking. I’ll tell you one more time: Leave town.”

“I will. Tomorrow.”

“Stormy seas, Corin! I never thought you a fool.”

“Have a little faith. I keep some secrets of my own.”

“I
had
some faith. Right up until you defied me.”

“You never were my captain, Lou.”

“No. No. But I used to be your friend.”

“You still are.”

“If that’s a fact—if you feel any kindness to me at all—
abandon
this whole enterprise. I have rooms in a country inn an hour outside town. These blackguards don’t reach that far. Come share a drink with me, and I will change your mind.”

When Corin hesitated, Lou leaned closer still and begged him. “Please.”

But even as he stood there wrestling with the choice, Corin caught sight of Doug the Gar across the way. One of his old hands, and almost as loyal to Taker as Tommy was. Doug didn’t try for stealth at all. He cried out in alarm and then ran all-out for the docks.

And that was why Corin couldn’t yield to Lou’s pleas. No matter what he owed the man, Corin’s plans were already in motion. Already word of his presence had reached Dave Taker’s ship. If Corin arrived within the hour, he’d find chaos waiting for him there. If he waited any longer, the First Mate would have time to restore order, lay a trap for him, or send someone to kill him in the streets as he’d done to Béthané’s militiamen.

Corin dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry, Lou. I can’t afford to wait. I would love to share a drink with you. I’m sure there’s much I need to know. But after—”

Lou spat. “There won’t be any ‘after.’ I won’t hang around to watch those dogs tear out your guts. I’m leaving this town and glad to be done of it. Are you coming with me or no?”

“I
can’t
.”

Lou showed no understanding. He sneered at Corin,
disappointed
, then turned and stomped off up the street. Away from the docks and everything that waited there. Corin watched him go. Perhaps with the Nimble Fingers’ help he could track down the old man once this mess was settled, but right now he had urgent business.

And just as he was turning to continue on his way, he
spotted
another familiar face in the crowd. Not an old crewmate this time, but the blasted druid woman. She was hugging a busy street corner twenty paces distant, watching him with interest and scarcely trying to conceal herself.

“Gods’ blood!” Corin shouted. “Not now!” Then he turned his back on her and ran.

He went two miles to the docks, without slowing. He leaped the harbormaster’s wall at full sprint. It only took a glance to pick out the
Espinola
—the only ship in port with the gall to fly the black flag—and Corin covered half the pier before he
remembered
his dignity enough to slow to a more stately walk. That was far too late. Already the end of the pier was crowded with curious spectators. The decks of the other ships he passed were packed as well, all work forgotten as everyone in port watched the man in black march bravely to his doom.