Bones of the Empire (86 page)

The ogre walked up to the edge of his ship’s rails and put one enormous boot up on the wood there, grinning across at Shortbeard as he leaned on his knee. Had they been a hundred feet closer together, Estin might have called it a civil greeting.

“Ye run off in the middle o’ some good negotiations,” the ogre shouted, his voice so deep Estin had trouble making out some of the words. “I think ye be sayin’ I went too far in gettin’ information on a wee treasure ye be workin’ on. Ye may wanna talk this one out, midget.”

Shortbeard marched to the rail of their ship, sputtering as he passed Estin. Stepping onto a bucket one of the sailors shoved near the rail, he shouted back, “I told ye, is our reward! Stop chasin’ us aroun’ for somethin’ ain’ yours!”

The ogre shrugged and motioned toward several of his sailors. They dropped his banner sail, letting the blue cloth fall to the deck. From what little Estin had learned, letting the signature sail hit the deck was akin to spitting on the captain or admitting defeat.

The ogre answered, “I ain’ stupid enough to fire on ye again. I also think ye ain’ gonna wanna fire on us, if’n ye know what I mean. We both need each other, I thinkin’. Care to bargain?”

Shortbeard grumbled and looked back at Estin, somewhat surprising him. He had not expected to even be remembered in the middle of a fight between pirates, let alone by Shortbeard. He stared at Estin for a moment and then returned his attention to the ogre. Almost as an afterthought, Shortbeard reached over and took the sword out of Estin’s hand. “Aye. If’n ye ain’ lyin’, I’m willin’ to barter,” Shortbeard shouted.

Stepping away from the rail once the ogre and several of his crew members began preparing a smaller boat, Shortbeard rounded on Estin. “Ye gonna get below deck. Ye ain’ crew and ye ain’ one o’ us. Gonna be lotsa talkin’ between our wee boats, an’ if I come back, we talk about landin’ this ship. If’n I don’, ain’ my problem anymore. Don’ make trouble or we put ye in that cage.”

Estin looked longingly at the single-edged sword Shortbeard had taken from him before nodding and walking away. There was little more he could do. To his surprise, four of the sailors flanked him on his way below deck, where the crew slept and most of their supplies were stored. He started to ask why, but the stern glare one of the humans gave him warned him against trying. There was more to the situation than anyone intended to explain to him.

Hurrying down the steps that took him into the barely lit belly of the ship, Estin started toward where his hammock hung. The sailors grabbed his arms and steered him in the other direction, practically carrying him toward the rear of the ship. They shoved him hard into Shortbeard’s private cabin and slammed the door behind him. Before he could ask why, they had locked the door, and he heard two of the men march away. Apparently that was Shortbeard’s way of ensuring he would not jump overboard.

Estin paced for several minutes in the dark room, trying to decide what to do. He could open the shutters and attempt to slip out, but curiosity was making that difficult for him to consider. Why would Shortbeard be concerned about where Estin was enough that he would lock him in a room? He had so many other concerns at the moment.

A stray thought crossed Estin’s mind, and he wished he had not tried to reason his way out of his situation. For that moment he wondered if perhaps Dorralt had put a price on his head, sending slaves or disguised Turessians to seek him out. He had no clue how long he had been gone from the world or where he had wound up after slipping from the mists. Dorralt’s revenge was as likely as anything else. That was a sobering thought, making him reconsider the window. He would rather drown or die in shark-infested waters than be caught by servants of Dorralt. On the other hand, Dorralt might know what had happened to Feanne.

Sighing, Estin flopped down in the middle of the room to wait.

No matter how hard Estin strained his ears, he could make out little more than a muffled din in the distance. Whether that sound was the sailors at the door or the negotiations between Shortbeard and the ogre, he could not be certain. It was infuriating, not knowing whether a battle was headed his way or whether the captains were having tea nearby.

After an hour or more, Estin got up and made his way around the cluttered room. He had not had the chance to explore this part of the ship, and his natural curiosity made it impossible to sit around any longer without a cursory look. Shortbeard had roamed the world enough that Estin had to believe there was something interesting or useful somewhere in the large cabin.

Though nearly as large as the room that held the whole rest of the crew, Shortbeard’s cabin contained was nothing special, overall. Maps that covered the walls and books spread in disorganized piles across three tables. A single unadorned desk near a simple chair had been bolted to the floor to keep it from sliding when they hit rough weather. Nothing spoke of any dire intent or dramatic plan to conspire with the Turessians. Though Estin had to admit he had hardly expected to find a banner on the wall that read “Turessians welcome!” Making it even more difficult on him, much of the writing he found was foreign to him.

Estin flipped through several of the books that were in the trade language. He found they were largely old stories about lost treasure, piracy, and historical works talking about coastal cities he had never heard of. He stopped bothering with the books and poked through the desk’s drawers.

The first few drawers were filled with coins of all shapes and sizes, with the heads of obscure kings or rulers on them. Among them, he saw a few of the coins Shortbeard had taken from him when they had first met. Estin’s initial thought was to steal them back, but he closed the drawer, knowing money was hardly a concern. If he had learned anything from Feanne, it was how to survive in the wilderness. Combining that with his own survival without money back in Altis, he really did not see a need for it. He would find a way to live, assuming he could get to the shore.

Moving down drawer by drawer, Estin found piles of knives, a few of the mechanical weapons the sailors carried, and more maps. Only the last drawer on the right-hand side held anything of interest. There he found a single letter on parchment, rolled up and tied with leather. When he picked the knot loose and opened the letter, he sat and began reading.

My dear Leiren, I do miss you. Please come home soon! The children miss you and have begun hearing stories of your other life…this ‘Shortbeard.’ I love you dearly and will do anything to have you home. Do not make me wait too long. Love, your wife, Diness.

Shortbeard’s gruff voice came from the doorway. “Ye shouldn’ be readin’ that.”

Estin had not even realized the door had opened. He tried to quickly shove the letter back in the desk, but Shortbeard—Leiren—stared at him with an anger that made it clear he knew what Estin had been up to.

“Back away from me desk and turn around.”

Estin went to the middle of the room before turning his back on Shortbeard. Kneeling, he waited only a second before the dwarf tromped up behind him, with the sound of chains jingling. Estin closed his eyes, trying to ready himself for being manacled yet again. Instead, he jumped a little as Shortbeard put a hand on his shoulder.

“Aye, that was what I was thinkin’ to do to ye,” he said, turning Estin around so they were face-to-face. “Stone on ye leg an’ a short walk off me deck. Would spoil th’ surprise, though. Ye need to go to yer bed. Got a present for ye. Blue-horned bastard’s offer an’ a decent-enough apology. I think ye be happy with what I worked out for ye, at least for now.”

Estin thanked Shortbeard for his mercy and made a quick escape from the room. Once he was in the outer part of the lower deck, he ran, wanting to make sure he was out of sight before Shortbeard changed his mind. It did not take him long to reach the crew quarters. Two dwarven sailors waited at the entrance, each keeping a hand on their swords.

“Get ye in there!” snapped one, glowering at Estin. “Ain’ a situation we get often. Ye drag this out, an’ we be takin’ the fun off yer hands, if’n ye know what I mean. Ye’re th’ first crew to have that kind o’ visit in a long time on board th’ ship.”

Nodding despite having no idea what they were talking about, Estin went into the crew quarters. The sailors slammed the door behind him, sealing him in the dark room, unable to make out anything. Normally candles were left burning at night. Given that it was midday, there was little more than the thin beams of light from the upper deck, trickling through gaps in the boards. In that faint light, he saw movement, though he had no idea what to expect. It could have been anything from a dire wolf to a horde of Turessians in there with him.

Sniffing the air, Estin found he could pick out almost nothing. There was someone else there, though. But his or her scent was concealed by the smell of the tar, sweat from the crew that had slept there hours earlier, and the general odor of the saltwater that permeated the boat. Behind him, he heard the sailors slide something against the door, trapping him.

“Shortbeard sent me here,” Estin called out, hearing the creak of boards as someone moved. “Who are you?”

“Estin?” came a very familiar voice. Then a body slammed into him, pulling him into a tight hug, digging her claws deeply into his back.

“Feanne?” he asked in stark amazement as he hugged her back. So close, her scent was unmistakable. He could smell it without question, mixed with the scent of saltwater and something he could not put his finger on. Right up against her, he could make out the lines of her body, though the loose-fitting trousers and laced sailor’s shirt would have confused him if he did not already know it was her. “Is that really you? How are you here?”

Moving her hands from his back to either side of his head, she dug her fingers in just behind his ears. “It’s me, Estin. I’m so sorry…I’ve tried to hurry…”

“Sorry? For what?” he asked, barely hearing himself as he buried his nose in the fur at the base of her neck. He had never thought he would see her again, and having her in his arms was more than he ever could have asked for.

Clawing at his neck and back as though trying to pull him closer than their hug could allow, Feanne answered softly, “Sorry for finding you like this…sorry for taking so long.”

“You know I would wait a lifetime to be together again,” Estin said, wrapping his tail around them both. “A couple months isn’t so long…”

“Months?” Feanne pushed him out to arm’s length. “When did you escape the mists?”

Movement behind Feanne startled Estin, and he snapped his tail away as he readied himself for a fight. Instead of a sailor or worse, a single deer wildling stepped from the dark into a light beam. She grinned at him from under and oversized tri-corner hat similar to the one Shortbeard wore. Like Feanne, she wore brown pants, tied below the knee, a baggy white shirt laced at the wrist and loosely at the neck, and stood barefoot—an outfit matching most of the sailors.

“Alafa?” Estin asked, his fear gone. “What’re you doing here?”

“She helped me find you,” Feanne replied while Alafa nodded vigorously. “Would not let me give up on searching either. She is a lot more stubborn than I gave her credit for. I was convinced you were dead. It was Alafa who kept prodding until I started searching for you.”

Tilting her hat back after it fell over her eyes, Alafa added, “And she’s not as scary or mean as I thought. Neither are pirates. Oh, neither are owl-bears, giant lizards, those weird ape things, or badgers.”

Estin turned to look at Feanne, who had her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. “What’s she talking about, Feanne?”

“It’s been a very long search,” Feanne admitted, smiling at him. “I promise to tell you all we’ve been through once we can find a way off the boat. Blue Horn only wanted our gold, but this dwarven pirate seems less willing to let us leave with you.”

“Gold?” Estin asked, his thoughts derailed. Gold was rare enough that few had seen more than a tiny ring made of it. Most commoners rarely even saw silver. “Where did you get gold?”

Alafa answered excitedly. “The furless up in the cold lands said we could have anything we wanted or needed. Feanne asked what they thought she needed to find you, and they told her that money and luck were all that they could offer. We took a big bag of gold lumps and set off.”

“Gold lumps?” Estin repeated, stunned.

“Only twenty or thirty of the heavy little nuggets,” Feanne explained, motioning with her hands to indicate a bag larger than Estin’s head. “We gave them to anyone with information about you…or information that sounded like it might be you. Blue Horn accepted the last of them in return for finding you, no matter how long it took. A decent male, that one. He kept his crew away from us and was very polite. The villages we went through before finding him were crude, and half the males there tried to grope one or both of us. Not having to kill someone was a pleasant change.”