A Jewel Bright Sea Page 28

  But Anna no longer knew who or what she was. Once, she’d been a scholar’s daughter. Once, Lord Brun’s bonded servant, entrusted with matters of magic and useful in bed. Now? Now she was no longer certain. For once, she wanted to find a place in the world that was hers alone, and not defined by another person.

  The noise of a distant conversation interrupted her thoughts. Voices, exchanging sharp words. An argument between the guards? Surely not.

  “Andreas! Captain! We need you!”

  Andreas rolled over, instantly awake. He pulled on his trousers and flung himself out of the tent even before he’d finished tying the sash.

  Druss, Anna thought. Druss had allies we didn’t know about. Or…

  A dozen other possibilities came to mind as she scrambled into her clothes and followed Andreas.

  In the center of the campsite, Eleni and Andreas stood close in whispered conversation. Maté had taken up a resting stance a few feet away, his hands clasped behind his back. At Anna’s appearance, his gaze shifted briefly to her, taking in her rumpled hair and any number of details that Anna suddenly wished were invisible, then flicked away.

  “What is it?” she asked breathlessly. “What’s wrong?”

  Eleni exchanged a glance with Andreas.

  “Sarrész,” he said. The name came out sharp, like a curse. “That gods-be-damned thief—” He broke off and, with an obvious effort, continued in a more ordinary voice. “He’s gone, escaped. We don’t know when or how, but we shall find out.” He turned to Maté. “Pass the word for the guards who stood watch.”

  Maté ran at once to obey.

  “I meant to double the watch,” Eleni said in a low voice. “I should’ve expected something like this. Especially after what you told me.”

  “Don’t,” Andreas said at once. “Don’t blame yourself, Eleni. Blame me, if you like.”

  “But after Joszua—”

  “No,” he said. “Perhaps two guards might have stopped him. Perhaps not. But if you want to make a list of mistakes, start with mine. I was wrong about Joszua. I decided he could not betray us from aboard ship. I decided to bring twenty, not thirty, people on this expedition. But most important of all, I failed to make clear to everyone how cunning Sarrész is. Ask Anna here how many times he’s escaped her and Kovács.”

  Eleni shook her head. It was clear she didn’t accept Koszenmarc’s words. Anna might have done the same, blamed herself no matter what Maté told her, if she hadn’t spent the past five months chasing after the man.

  Before the argument could continue, Maté approached with three men in tow—the guards who had taken turns at watch over the prisoner. Two were older men, scarred and weathered, pirates who had served decades, either with Koszenmarc or with other ships. The third was a much younger man, his open face creased by an anxious frown.

  The three arranged themselves in a line before Koszenmarc, hands clasped behind their backs, legs wide, as if braced against possible squalls. Maté and Eleni took up a waiting stance to one side.

  Koszenmarc walked slowly down the line, studying their faces. “So,” he said. “Tell me. Did anyone, friend or enemy, approach the tent during your watch? The prisoner, was he asleep, awake? Did he speak to you?”

  Their reports were nearly identical. Nearly.

  No one approached the prisoner, the first man said. He would swear that no enemy could have passed the perimeter guard without notice. As for the prisoner, he had fallen asleep shortly after the captain had questioned the man.

  The second had checked the prisoner at the start of his watch and found Sarrész awake. Sarrész claimed he’d eaten spoiled food, but aside from groaning, he hadn’t spoken after that.

  Koszenmarc turned to the youngest guard. “And what do you say, Wim?”

  Wim flushed. “I inspected the prisoner’s bonds at the start of my watch. The prisoner…he was sitting on his pot and cursed me when I insisted on inspecting his bonds.” His voice choked. “He asked if I wanted to watch.”

  Eleni’s lips moved in a silent curse. The other two guards shifted uneasily.

  “And did you watch?” Koszenmarc asked.

  “No! I mean, yes, I did my duty. Those ropes were whole and tight. I made certain of that. Except…” Wim’s voice failed and he stared at Koszenmarc with obvious despair.

  Eleni made an exasperated noise. Maté rolled his eyes skyward. Koszenmarc did not speak. He let the silence continue so long that Anna thought Wim might expire from terror.

  “Sarrész lied to you,” Anna said. “Am I right?”

  Wim jerked his head away but did not deny it.

  “He always lies,” Anna said. “How exactly did he lie to you?”

  “He…he said he was sick. He was on the chamber pot half my watch. I know because I emptied it.” Wim licked his lips again. “Then he made such a noise. Said he was dying from the flux.” Another nervous lick. “I went to fetch him a potion from Katerina. Everything was quiet when I got back. I didn’t want to wake him up, so I left the medicine just inside the tent. I…I didn’t go in myself.”

  Eleni shook her head in obvious disgust. “He broke the pot and used the pieces to cut his bonds. Then he sent Wim on a fool’s errand and made his escape.”

  Andreas studied Wim a moment longer, then sighed. “He’s an idiot, not a traitor, thank the gods. We’ll dock him a week’s pay and give him scut duty for a month. Eleni, take our fool away. Kovács, I want you to scout the area. See which direction Sarrész took. Don’t wander too far. We might have a few of the enemy lurking nearby.”

  He dismissed the other two guards, who vanished at once to their duties. Eleni took hold of Wim by the arm and bundled him away, no doubt to deliver her own lecture. Maté followed, leaving Anna alone with Andreas. “We have the jewel,” she murmured. “And once we know what to do—”

  “But no matter what we do, we need Sarrész to prove the case against Hêr Brun.”

  That gave her pause. Yes, Sarrész’s testimony would prove her own innocence, but how could they hand over Sarrész and not the jewel itself?

  “Come,” Andreas told her. “We’ll have an early breakfast, then break camp. Once we’re back aboard the Konstanze with the rest of my officers, we can discuss what comes next.”

  What comes next. That implied so many things.

  Anna thrust those implications aside as she checked over her patients. Máur was awake and muttering how he was ready to march, thank you. The woman with the bruised ribs moved awkwardly, but she was already at work with the others to break camp. Karl would do until Thea had a chance to examine him.

  Felix, though. His color had improved, but his pulse was too quick, and when he attempted to sit up, he collapsed back onto his pallet, sweating. “Godsdammit, I tell you I can march.”

  “Of course you can,” Anna said. “But not today.”

  She held a brief consultation with Eleni Farakos.

  “It’s too dangerous,” she said softly. “He’ll overwork his heart if he tries to march with us.”

  “He can’t stay here alone,” Eleni replied. “I’ll have two of ours keep him company. Katerina, and whoever else she thinks is best. Give them whatever medicine is needed.”

  While Eleni ordered gear and supplies set aside, Anna sorted through her pack for the medicines Felix might need. A second vial of Thea’s blue potion, in case of emergencies. A jar of willow bark, a potent batch, according to its label. She added several other vials—everyday herbs and powders, useful for a variety of injuries or illnesses. For all the ifs and maybes Felix and his companions might encounter before reinforcements arrived.

  Maté soon returned with his own report. Druss’s people had scattered over the mountainside, he said, and were headed toward the nearest coast. Sarrész’s tracks headed in the opposite direction, over the northern flank and in the direction of Iglazi.

 
“He’s had over two hours’ head start,” Maté added. “And while I’d like to believe our lordling is too soft to fight his way through the brush and over the mountain, I’ve learned not to underestimate him.”

  Eleni scowled at the news. Andreas simply shrugged. “We don’t have enough people to go haring after him. We’ll pass the word to the garrison. That should be good enough.”

  The crew broke camp, having buried their trash and packed their gear. Anna wrapped the jewel in a scrap of cloth, tied it fast with a cord, and looped the cord over her neck. Felix was already settled in the tent Katerina and the other crewmember had erected in a hollow on the mountainside.

  The company laid out the bodies of the dead. The enemy numbered seventeen in all, with Druss at one end and Raab at the other. Raab had worn gold earrings, the metal etched with symbols much like the designs on the medallion Joszua had from Druss. Andreas Koszenmarc held the earrings loosely in one hand and stared down at the bodies of his enemies, his expression unreadable.

  “Leave them to the gods,” he muttered.

  The two dead from Koszenmarc’s company had been wrapped in their own blankets, then covered with a sheet of canvas weighted down with rocks. The company stood in a silent circle.

  “Until tomorrow, my friends,” Andreas said. “We promise to return for you, so that you might return to the sea.”

  Earlier, he had asked Anna if she knew any spells to keep away scavengers. Now she stepped forward and spoke the words.

  Ei rûf ane gôtter. Ei rûf ane strôm unde kreft…

  The air shimmered at her words, a bright and golden net of light. A vivid affirmation of Toc’s sacrifice to create the moon and the sun, of Lir’s promise that death would lead into life.

  Anna dropped her hands, and the veil fell over the bodies of their companions.

  * * * *

  The march back to shore went slowly and cautiously, with frequent breaks so the wounded could rest, and the sun had crossed the meridian before the company reached the halfway point. Once more, Andreas called a halt, and Eleni ordered a meal of cold meat and dried fruit to be shared out.

  Anna dropped to the ground and rubbed her ankles. Her feet ached, and she was grateful for the thin ocean breeze that filtered between the trees. When Maté offered to refill her water flask, she gladly agreed.

  He returned with the flask and crouched by her side. “Have you noticed?” he said.

  “Noticed what?”

  He nodded toward a break in the foliage. Anna shaded her eyes and pretended a casual interest in the view. The shore was just visible as a pale white ribbon between mountain and sea. She could make out one ship standing close to shore. The Konstanze? Beyond, the ocean glittered blue and silver under the sun and she had to squint before she noticed that three more ships were driving toward the shore, sails spread before a favorable wind.

  She and Maté were not the only ones who had spotted those sails. Eleni stared hard toward the ocean. “Andreas, I don’t like the look of things. We should—”

  “We go forward,” Koszenmarc said shortly.

  The company stirred uneasily. For a moment, Anna thought they might refuse the order. Then Maté exchanged a quick look with Máur, who shrugged. The two took their positions for the march. After a moment, the rest followed their example.

  Anna fell back toward the rear, where Maté marched. “Those ships,” she whispered. “Whose are they?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, just as quietly. “I recognized the Konstanze farther out, but the other three ships… They aren’t any of ours. I don’t like it.”

  Anna remembered those last moments aboard the Konstanze, with Andreas and Hahn in close conversation. “Perhaps he has allies we know nothing about.”

  “Perhaps.” But Maté did not appear convinced.

  The trail doubled back sharply, then dipped into a fold in the hillside. The ocean vanished from view, and trees arced overhead in a luminous green tunnel. Andreas signaled to Eleni, who passed orders along the line, and the company changed position so that they shifted from single file to a square two deep on either side.

  Someone muttered a curse. Karl shifted his weapon in his hand and glanced from side to side. Eleni said nothing, but she too was clearly uneasy.

  The first warning was a metallic whisper that seemed to come from all directions. Before Anna could register what that meant, the rattle of many blades echoed down from the ridges on either side.

  Eleni had her own weapon in hand within a moment. Andreas reached for his sword. He checked himself and glanced upward to either side. Anna’s breath deserted her when she followed his gaze. More than thirty men, all of them armed with swords, had appeared at the ridgetops on either side. Anna swung around, to see several dozen more behind the company. Then she heard the tramp of boots from ahead and knew they were surrounded.

  Druss. She had plans in case she failed. She had allies—

  A hand brushed against hers. Maté. He gave the smallest of nods toward the front of their party. She turned and saw Marcus Brun emerge from behind another squad of armed men, who blocked the trail to the shore.

  Brun wore an impeccable costume, with a stiff, high collar, and a jacket thick with embroidery. His hair was swept back in what had to be the latest fashion of Duenne’s Court. Only the sheen of sweat on his face indicated that he stood under the hot south-seas sun.

  “Gods-be-damned bastard,” Maté whispered. “I should have expected this.”

  Brun’s gaze flicked toward Maté. His eyes narrowed, and Maté went still, all expression wiped from his face. Oh, yes. It would not do to underestimate their lord and master.

  Brun nodded in Anna’s direction. “That one,” he said. “Bring her forward.”

  Two soldiers seized Anna by the arms and dragged her over to Brun. At his signal, they shoved her onto her knees and stepped back.

  “Anna,” he said. “Greetings. You’ve met battle, it seems.”

  She knelt there, hands splayed in the mud. Dimly, she heard the shifting of men and women behind her. What could they think to accomplish? She was dead, and so were they.

  “Druss,” she said. “It was Isana Druss.”

  Her voice came out thin and wavery. She swallowed and tried again. “Isana Druss was her name. She commands, commanded a fleet of pirates. Surely I mentioned her in my reports?”

  Brun tilted his head, clearly amused, which unsettled her even more. “No, I don’t recall you did,” he said. “Raab, however, told me a great deal about her. I gather you or your pirate captain killed her, or you would not be alive. No, never mind about answering. Let us take as given that Druss is dead. Raab must be dead as well.” He sighed. “I suppose that’s for the best.”

  For the best? Raab had been Marcus Brun’s dog, the man sent to ensure neither she nor Maté betrayed their master. And if she read the evidence of these past few days aright, Raab had escaped both Maszny and Andreas Koszenmarc, he had bribed a mage to transport him away from Vyros, and he had negotiated an alliance with Isana Druss, all so that Brun got what he wanted.

  Sarrész’s words came back to her with a suddenness that left her throat dry and tight. He wants no witnesses, our Lord Brun. That’s why I ran.

  But Brun’s attention had shifted to Andreas Koszenmarc. “Raab mentioned another pirate captain in his reports. My Lord Koszenmarc, I remember you from your time at Court.”

  Koszenmarc returned Brun’s gaze with one cool and remote. He said nothing.

  Brun’s mouth ticked up in a satisfied smile. “I cannot say I’m astonished to see you here, in Eddalyon, even before Raab told me about your part in this affair. Tell me, shall I send my condolences to your family? Or have they disowned you entirely?” When Andreas continued to offer no response, he gave a soft laugh. “No matter. Anna, my love, you have a final report to give me. Tell me about Lord Sarrész. Is he amon
g the dead?”

  Anna licked her lips. “I don’t know.”

  Brun signaled to one of the mercenaries. The man slapped Anna, hard enough to make her head ring. “Answer our lord,” he said. “What happened to the thief?”

  Anna swallowed, tasted the blood in her mouth. “I’m telling the truth, my lord. He escaped during the night.”

  “With the jewel?” Brun said. “No. I know you. You’d never leave it behind. You will hand over the jewel. Kovács here can track Sarrész down. If either of you fails, the other will pay for your betrayal.”

  Maté glanced toward Eleni, who shook her head. Throughout the exchange, Andreas Koszenmarc had not stirred, had not even breathed, as far as Anna could tell.

  Brun watched them all. Evidently, he was satisfied they’d make no trouble, because he nodded, then held out a hand. “Give me the jewel, Anna.”

  Anna hesitated.

  “Come,” he told her with seemingly infinite patience. “You are making this entire affair more difficult than necessary. Give me the jewel, and we shall discuss your reward.” At her continued silence, he smiled. “I promise you, Anna. I shall not harm any of your friends.”

  Brun wore an air of nonchalance, as though he expected nothing but obedience from her, but she caught a hint of impatience behind that facade. He was not entirely certain of victory after all.

  Still on her knees, she drew the jewel from her shirt and unwrapped the cloth.

  It was a small, plain-looking thing, rough-cut and unpolished, scarcely larger than her thumb, and there was no sense of magic about it, as though the jewel had deliberately wrapped itself in anonymity, within and without.

  Brun frowned, disappointed.

  “This?” he said. “That looks rather plain. Are you certain?”

  “I am,” she said.

  She dropped the jewel into his hand. He sucked in a breath. He might not be a magic-worker, but he’d clearly felt the spark of magic. For a moment, Anna wondered if Brun would give over his ambitions to marry the Imperial heir. He might want to aim higher, faster, to take the jewel and the Empire for himself….