Page 120 of Pawn of the Cruel Princess
He nods with a wry smile. “Once again, love, you saved me from doing something foolish.”
Chuckling, she rises and pulls me up with her. “So you are content, then, Ducayne? You’ll keep your thrall tattoo willingly?”
“Gladly,” he says, wrenching himself free of the sailors. He’s in front of me in one stride, wrapping me tight, shielding me from all the eyes, so many eyes.
“Show’s over, all of you,” barks Veronica. “Back inside, now. Drinks are on us.”
They obey her, though it’s clear not all of them are part of the pirate crew. But Oleyra has become, at least for the time being, an extension of the Pirate King’s domain.
A serving girl bandages the cut on my arm, and Ducayne and I are ushered into the corner booth with Locke and Veronica. At first I don’t feel like speaking to them—I’m still angry at Locke—but then he passes me a cup of wine with a nod that’s as close to an apology as I’m likely to get from him.
“Nick had the same problem, you know,” he tells me, jerking his head toward Veronica. “Couldn’t admit that she loved me, for the longest time.”
“That’s because you’re a rutting bastard and a liar.” She plants a hard kiss on his mouth. “And incredibly stupid, for such an intelligent man.”
He grins and raises his cup. “My wife, everyone.”
After an uproarious toast shared by all the guests in the common room, Locke’s expression sobers. “So then, Princess—I’m guessing your departure is a matter of some urgency, and you’re looking for passage elsewhere?”
“We are. We have travel papers—false names. I suppose they’re useless now.” I glance around the common room. “Even if there are other captains here, no one will risk taking us aboard, knowing that my father’s fleet will be after us.”
“There are three other captains in town, and you’re right—none would dare take you aboard, knowing who you are. Sorry for blowing your cover, love, but it was a thin one. And the whole cloak and hood thing—very conspicuous.”
“I told her,” says Ducayne, with a cocky half-smile. I elbow him in the ribs.
“What you two need is a captain who doesn’t give a rutting horse’s ass about any kings or rulers anywhere. One with a ship so fast, none in the Thanniran fleet can match her.” Locke leans back and tips the contents of his cup down his throat. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “Would you look at that? I’m all empty.”
“Locke.” Veronica nudges him. “Stop toying with them. They’re exhausted, and they’ve been through something terrible. Haven’t you?”
Her eyes pry me open. I can’t deny her words, or speak, so I nod.
“There now,” she says. “What you both need is a nice refreshing voyage on the high seas. We can’t promise safety from storms, but we can promise safety from your father. Women are welcome aboard the Pirate King’s ships now, and especially on our flagship, theRaven’s Frenzy. We’ll take you to any port you like. Or, if you want to come to Ravensbeck, we’ll bring you along.”
“Ravensbeck is our pirate city, our great haven,” says Locke. “There’s plenty to do, plenty of work and fun to be had. No one you wish to escape will ever find you there. You’ll be protected under the flag of the Crowned Skull-and-Bones. But any guest at Ravensbeck must be tattooed with a vow never to speak its location.”
“You don’t have to decide on a destination now,” Veronica adds. “Come along, and we’ll see where the wind takes us.”
“Yes,” says Ducayne fervently. “Yes, we accept. Ruelle?” He turns to me, his face alight with joy and hope.
And for once, I can smile back, just as joyful and hopeful as he is.
38
Weeks later, just before dawn, we arrive at Ravensbeck.
Locke comes to fetch me, shaking my shoulder with a finger to his lips. I slide out of the bunk, careful not to wake Ruelle, and I run after him, barefoot and shirtless, up the ladder and onto the deck.
He’s a good man, Locke. During our voyage I’ve come to respect his strange sense of justice, his agile mind, the power of his fist, and the scope of the empire he has built—a network of port cities and towns where his captains and crews are welcomed. An empire that now includes the port town of Oleyra. The people there won’t talk about it loudly, or spread the word widely, but they were changed by his stay in that place. The fear and the love of him and Veronica will keep the port hospitable to anyone flying the Crowned Skull-and-Bones, no matter what the King may decree.
“Dangerous waters,” I comment to Locke, for the sea around the bow of theRaven’s Frenzyis dotted with protruding reefs and pieces of wrecked ships.
“Dangerous, yet safe,” he replies.
Ahead I can see three tall, narrow mountains, with a cluster of hills at their feet. The island is a sprawling one, surrounded by a wall of weathered stone, and in that wall is a gate, wide enough for two ships to pass abreast. Tall towers bristling with guns flank the entrance to the bay, and at the top of each tower is an enormous stone effigy of a crowned raven.
“Yes!” I say, pounding the railing. “Yes, yes. Locke, this is magnificent. This is—gods. I heard of this place once, but I never thought I’d get to see it.”
He’s about to answer, but then he grabs my arm and leans in, examining my bicep. “Did you know your tattoo is fading, mate? I can feel the magic in it slipping away.”
