Page 146 of Traitor Witch
"Is this all of the cargo?" Derrick demands, once again addressing Kier.
"Yes."
"And you've not tampered with it?"
"No."
It's not a lie. Nilsa may have tampered when she was investigating the hold, but Kier certainly hasn't.
"The Alchemist requires more. You're to make another run immediately."
"That's not in the agreement," I growl, eyes flashing.
There's a certain satisfaction in seeing the way the soldiers closest to me flinch back.
"Your bargain was servitude to me in exchange for your miserable lives."
The lilting voice makes every hair on my body stand on end.
Shenever leaves her palace.
But there she is.
Queen Catherine, the Eagle of Galmere, strides across the plank with a retinue of royal guards, each one dressed in the bright red uniform with the golden eagle wings stamped across their stiff collars.
I wish I could say that the woman herself was ugly. Every bit the hag on the outside that she was on the inside.
But no. She's no great beauty, but she's no troll either. If anything, she appears more average than she should. Average height, average figure. There is some slight appeal in the golden undertones of her skin and the sun-streaked blonde of her hair, but her features are bland, unremarkable.
If not for the shrewd, calculating look in her green eyes, you'd think her just another royal airhead.
It's that unassuming air that makes everyone underestimate her. It madeusunderestimate her.
"Servitude means doing as you're told," she continues, skirts swishing as she surveys the barrels in the middle of the deck with the same evaluating look she might give a cow at auction. "My Alchemist requires more ingredients. I have ordered you to fetch them for her."
"Yes, Your Majesty," I whisper, feeling the words rip from my lungs as the others echo them.
"Guards, transfer the cargo to my ship, then escort these men from the bay."
Her ants spring to action, carrying out her orders like the good little minions they are. Her soldiers stay in place, swords still levelled at us to protect the monarch as she leaves. Except, the Queen doesn't leave. She comes closer until she's within grabbing distance.
If the bargain didn't have a hold on me, I could reach out and snap her neck.
The perspicacity of her gaze cuts right through me. I just know something bad is coming. I feel it in my gut.
"I don't expect pirates to understand the urgency of this mission, so one of you will remain in Galmere to ensure the swift return of the rest."
No.
Her small smile as her eyes land on me confirms my fear. "The vampire will be perfectly safe in my Blood Pits. As we understand it, heisa prior champion."
"Take me," Kier interjects, pushing forward. "Me, in his place."
Swift as a striking cobra, a sword appears through his abdomen. The soldier behind him trembling in fear of retribution.
Val starts to turn.
"Freeze." The queen's voice is like a whip.
