Page 93 of Blow Me Down
“Don’t you think it’s the least bit suspicious that this big battle took place on the other side of the island, where no one saw or heard it? Why would Corbin attack there?”
“ ‘Twas so he could set a trap and murder ’em all,” he answered, the confusion changing into a familiar stubborn look.
“Or it was a story put out to explain the sudden disappearance of sixty-five men, carefully crafted so as to focus everyone’s anger on a scapegoat while the real villain was not held accountable for his actions.”
“Ye’ve lost me, lass,” he said, shaking his head.
“What do you know about the mine?” I asked, switching subjects.
“The emerald mine?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“ ‘Tis closed now.”
“I know that, but who worked there before it was closed?”
He shrugged. “Townsfolk.”
“Not your crew?”
“Nay, why would they?”
I watched him carefully, but there seemed to be no sign he was lying to me.
Then again, there was no proof he was telling the truth. Either he was totally ignorant of what Bart had been up to, or he was putting on a hell of an act.
“What’s your earliest memory, Pangloss?”
He blinked at me, his face having gone blank.
I sighed, aware of a faint feeling that I was missing something important, but I couldn’t for the life of me think of what it was. “Never mind. Go back to what you were doing. We’ll talk more about the crew and the future of the island tomorrow.”
I had a lonely dinner with just Bas after Corbin sent back a note from his flagship saying he and Holder would be tied up with crew duties until later that night. Bas and I investigated the governor’s house, but I decided when I started making a mental list of changes I wanted made in furniture and paint that it was time to get out of there.
“I’m going to go chat with Renata and her ladies,” I told Bas. “You want to come with me?”
He pursed his lips. “Wet Willie said I could help him in the kitchen.”
“Ah. Are you interested in learning how to cook? That’s a very noble profession, and one that I think you could do with just one hand.”
Bas shook his head. Bran bobbed his head up and down and squawked at me, just as if he was laughing. “Nay. Willie said I could watch him cut the heads off the chickens for tomorrow’s supper. Willie says they run around after their heads is off, spurtin‘ blood everywhere.”
I stared at him in horror. “You are an unnatural child. When I get out of here, I’m definitely going to have Corbin do something about giving you a new interest.”
“Eh?” he asked, confused.
“Never mind. Enjoy your headless chickens and blood spurting and God knows what else. I’m going to go talk to civilized people.”
Bas trotted off happily enough. I headed down the hill toward the town, carrying a lantern since the moon was hidden behind clouds tonight. A sense of happiness filled me as I made my way through the night. The air was soft and alive with sounds of the distant waves hitting the rocks beyond the harbor, night birds crying high in the sky, and the closer sounds of humans celebrating the arrival of food and drink. Candle- and lamplight flickered in almost every building in the town, spilling out in yellow patches that dappled the cobblestones. Likewise, the ships in the harbor—packed now with Corbin’s large warships—were all lit up, the lights from them dancing and bobbing on the waves. Raucous laughter and strains of a concertina came up from the docks, as well as out the doors and windows of the Inn Cognito. I stood for a moment on the fringes of town, drinking it all in, feeling both a kinship with the people of the island and a strong maternal desire to protect them from evil.
“They’re all my people now,” I said aloud, my voice firm and filled with purpose. “My people and my island, and I’ll be damned before I allow anyone to harm either.”
“Far be it from me to deny ye any wish,” a voice said out of the darkness behind me.
I spun around, my mouth hanging open at the sight of the man who emerged from the shadows, a pistol pointed at my heart.
Chapter 23
