A Jewel Bright Sea Read online

  Brun tucked the jewel into his shirt, then raised Anna to her feet. He was smiling.

  “You see,” he said softly. “It’s better this way.”

  His hand brushed her neck in a caress. Still smiling, he turned to the soldier at his side. “Take the man Kovács prisoner. Kill the rest.”

  The soldier roared out an order. At once the mercenaries surged forward.

  Anna’s shock lasted only a moment—long enough to see Maté slip his sword from its sheath. To see Eleni and Andreas close with Brun’s mercenaries. Andreas ran his blade through one man. Eleni surged forward to thrust and parry and thrust again. Wim charged into the crowd, only to meet a sword thrust to his belly. He dropped to his knees and doubled over. Another member of the crew stepped over him….

  Brun seized Anna by the hair and yanked hard. Now the lessons Maté had insisted upon proved useful. Anna fell backwards to throw Brun off balance. The moment his grip loosened, she dropped to her knees, drew the knife from her boot, and slashed out at Brun’s face.

  One of the officers grabbed for her knife. Anna rolled away and found shelter behind a tree. More mercenaries had poured down from the ridge and from the path behind. Koszenmarc and his company were fighting back, but they were so few. They could not hope to win, not with so many against them.

  “You gods-be-damned whore.”

  Brun grabbed her by the shoulder.

  “I shall have you branded,” he said in a growl. “I’ll burn your bond to ashes and sell you in the common market. Slave is what they’ll call you. Good for a fuck and nothing else.”

  Anna was trembling, but she met his gaze directly. “Time,” she said softly, “to prove my lessons well-taught.”

  Ei rûf ane gôtter. Ei rûf ane strôm. Komen mir de îs alsô swert.

  The void between worlds split open. The current poured through, like a storm unleashed by the gods, a winter storm so bitterly cold that Anna gasped for breath. Her vision blurred, she could see nothing except vague shadows moving about her.

  Anna lunged forward and grabbed Brun’s shirt. Her hands closed over the jewel in his pocket. She felt it shift and alter in her hand, changing from an amorphous stream of power into a solid mass, with the shape and heft of a sword hilt. She took a step back and gripped it tight. Her lips pulled back into a grin, and she drove forward.

  Brun recoiled. Too late. The magic plunged through his flesh like a knife through fog. He gave one harsh gasp. His throat rattled, as though to stop the air from escaping from his chest. Then his body went stiff and he toppled over.

  Shadows rushed toward her—Brun’s hired soldiers. Anna flung her hands upward. The magical current surged over them, like the tallest of ocean waves, drowning them in cold. They fell, all of them, stiff and grey. She spun around. The enemy on the ridgetops broke and ran, but the cold swept over them as well. Anna had one glimpse of them tumbling to the ground before her strength gave way and she fell to her knees.

  The current swirled around her, still cold, still buzzing with electricity. Dimly she realized she was shivering. Small wonder. Snow covered the ground in drifts. More snow continued to fall, though not the blizzard of just a few moments ago.

  And there, on the ground, a bright speck of color against the white, lay the jewel.

  Anna scooped the jewel into both hands. It hummed, that deep and wordless hum that spoke of a world beyond her ken. Gradually the ache in her gut eased, but she knew she could never forget the moment when she had plunged the magical current through Brun’s heart.

  “Anna.”

  Andreas Koszenmarc reached down and took her hands. Snow covered his skin, melting under the sun. “We lived, Anna. We grabbed hard—you did—and we lived.”

  “We did.” Her voice came out cracked and raw.

  He raised her to her feet. Quiet had settled over the clearing, broken only by the rill of snow and ice melting, the water dripping from branches, trickling over rock and stone and running down the mountainside. A dozen or more bodies lay scattered about. She recognized death by now. That absolute stillness. The mouth opened in one last gasp. The eyes staring into forever.

  Not all the enemy were dead. Some were scoured by frost and ice, blinded but clearly alive. Others attempted to regain their feet, but their movements were slow and clumsy, and Koszenmarc’s people had them in hand.

  Just a few feet away lay Marcus Brun.

  She was shivering, and not from the snow.

  “I killed him,” she said. “I meant to do that.”

  “If you hadn’t, you’d be dead.”

  She nodded. Her. Maté. Koszenmarc. Everyone else in the company. Brun would have murdered them all.

  “I hate what I did,” she whispered.

  “You’d be colder than these bodies if you didn’t. Come,” he said. “We must make shore. Hahn will worry otherwise.”

  Oh, yes. Hahn and those mysterious ships. By now, the company had begun the work of identifying the living and the dead. Koszenmarc was explaining to Eleni about the necessity for witnesses, though Anna could tell his explanation didn’t satisfy the other woman.

  Maté limped over to Brun and stared down at the body, his expression unreadable. Then he glanced around to Anna and smiled, but that smile unsettled her even more.

  “He’s dead enough,” he said. “And thank the gods for that. But we’re not yet done with him. Not anywhere close to done.”

  “What do you mean?” Anna said.

  “Don’t know. Not yet. We’ll find out in a few hours, won’t we?”

  It took half a bell or longer before Andreas and Eleni could sort out the aftermath of the battle. Anna’s deadly spell had killed all but a dozen of Brun’s mercenaries. The few survivors were frostbitten and blinded, unable to stand, much less fight. Even so, Koszenmarc ordered two of his people to remain behind to stand guard over them, until reinforcements could be sent from the ship.

  Five of the company had died. By the grace of Lir and Toc, only three had been singed by Anna’s magic. Several more had taken slash wounds, but they were able to march. Anna did her best to treat everyone’s injuries until they reached the Konstanze and Thea’s greater skill.

  The final march to the sea took another hour. At Koszenmarc’s orders, they made frequent stops while Maté scouted ahead, slow and silent, in case Brun had left more of his mercenaries to guard the rear. Twice he returned with news that the path ahead and all the surrounding area were empty. The third time, he insisted on speaking alone with Andreas and Eleni. The rest of the company waited, anxious or angry, while the three exchanged a whispered argument.

  “We have no choice,” Andreas said at last.

  “Are you certain?” Maté replied. “You said—”

  “He is right,” Eleni said. “We can’t run back to the hills, Maté. And…I believe I know what your plans are, Captain. Though,” she added, “you should have told the rest of us sooner.”

  “I should have,” Andreas said. “I’m sorry. Shall we get this over with?”

  The remaining company was murmuring, but when Eleni gave the order to march, they set off on the last stretch without delay. Anna didn’t need Maté’s commentary to see that a large company had marched through here recently. The underbrush had been trampled, vines and saplings cut as though in passing, and the dirt and sand had been churned up by many, many boots.

  Then her attention turned to the break in the trees ahead, the roar of surf, and the echo of numerous voices.

  The company slowed, but when Eleni gave the signal, they gathered into a tighter formation and continued toward the shore.

  Four ships crowded the small inlet. One had a battered look, the sails shredded and burned, as though it had survived a recent battle. The other three stood not much farther off, in a semicircle around it, as though they had pinned it to the shore and now wanted to make sure of their capture. O
ne was the Konstanze. The other two flew Imperial pennants.

  Oh. Anna thought she could see the shape of things now. Brun, landing here with his mercenary troops. Leaving only a skeleton guard behind, because of course he would have his victory and quickly too. Hahn, sent by Koszenmarc to Iglazi and the Imperial garrison. But what about his client? What about the jewel?

  A dozen boats had landed with their squads of soldiers. Several more were underway. Maszny himself stood at the front of one, his hand on his sword hilt.

  Maszny nodded at Koszenmarc. “I came as soon as your man reported to me. Just in time, apparently. We’ve taken a few prisoners, but they aren’t cooperating. One of Druss’s, I gather.”

  “Not exactly,” Andreas said quietly.

  Maszny eyed Andreas with faint suspicion. “How, not exactly?”

  “Before I go on, do I have your word to honor your promise?”

  “My promise depends on your success,” Maszny said carefully. “Do you have the jewel or not?”

  “I have it,” Koszenmarc said.

  “What about Lord Sarrész?”

  “He escaped. Druss did not. Nor did Lord Brun.”

  At that, Maszny visibly started. He glanced from Koszenmarc to Anna and back. “I see.”

  “I doubt it,” Andreas replied crisply. “To repeat my question, will you keep the promise you made six months ago? For everyone who is a member of my company?”

  Maszny regarded him with narrowed eyes. “I gave my word on that.”

  “Then,” Andreas drew a long breath, “if you will, we need help to recover our dead and wounded. And…you will find a number of other bodies along the way, and several witnesses who might be useful.”

  “Ah.” Now Maszny smiled, though it was faint and edged. “You are a thorough man. Thank you. Now, to complete our bargain, please give me the jewel.”

  “No,” Anna said. “You don’t understand.”

  Maszny exchanged a glance with Koszenmarc. “We had an understanding.”

  “Ah, yes. Except—”

  “No except this or that. You will hand over the jewel or you both will stand trial for treason.”

  Anna swallowed all her protests. She exchanged a glance with Andreas. All expression had vanished from his face and he was staring upward to the skies.

  You, you are a coward, she thought. And so am I.

  Reluctantly, Anna handed the jewel over to Dimarius Maszny. A spark of magic pricked her fingers, and she distinctly heard a faint, high-pitched note. She nearly drew her hand back, but it was too late. Maszny’s fingers closed over the jewel. Immediately his eyes widened, and he gave a soft exclamation. His gaze snapped up to meet Anna’s. For a moment she believed he would understand. She could almost hear the faint hum of Ishya’s voice. Commanding. Pleading. Telling him how the myth of Lir’s gift was but a lie. But the stiff, blank expression of an Imperial courtier dropped over his face, and he tucked the jewel into his shirt. “Thank you,” he said to Koszenmarc. “Thank you as well, Mistress Zhdanov.”

  He signaled to the soldiers and they streamed forward, around Koszenmarc’s people. Now Hahn appeared, looking older and more worn than Anna could remember. His gaze met Koszenmarc’s and he opened his mouth to speak. Koszenmarc shook his head and set off for the shore without looking back.

  CHAPTER 24

  Koszenmarc remained silent on the trip back to the Konstanze. If any of his crew had thought to question him, their speech died in their throats. Anna thought she might demand a better explanation, but she was too weary from the past five days, and far too shocked by that last exchange with Maszny.

  I should have argued harder. Andreas believed me, or I thought he did. Or perhaps he didn’t understand.

  Once, she glanced in his direction, but he kept his eyes closed until they came alongside the Konstanze, then swung himself up the first rope ladder and disappeared over the rail. Anna followed next, only to find he’d vanished into the crowd of sailors.

  She went below to the sick bay, which was clean and empty, except for Nikolas, who slept in a hammock, and Thea, curled up in a swinging cot.

  “Thea.”

  Thea rose in one fluid motion and hugged Anna in a tight embrace. “Dear gods. I am so glad to see you,” she whispered. “Who—”

  “—Druss is dead. We found the jewel. Sarrész escaped. Again. We met another set of enemies on the way back and—”

  Her voice choked with tears.

  “If only I had told you the truth about Lord Brun,” she said. “We might have—”

  “Anna, stop,” Thea said. “Might have is the past. We’ll mourn our brothers and sisters in due time. What else? I’ve only heard bits and pieces from Old Hahn. I’ll hear more from Daria, no doubt. What about you?”

  She had held up so well until then, but at Thea’s words, Anna broke into weeping. “It’s nothing, nothing at all,” she insisted. “Only. I’ve lied to you. I’ve lied to everyone. And he lied to me.”

  “Ah.” Thea did not ask whom Anna meant. “That man. He’s lied to us all. We shall each have to ask for an accounting. Perhaps you should be first.”

  * * * *

  She paused outside Andreas’s cabin while the hour bells rang and the thunder of many bare feet echoed from the deck. The Konstanze was under sail. A few hours from now, they would dock at Iglazi. Maszny would surely take her away for questioning. Surely, he would keep her prisoner, or at least under watch, until the whole affair was sorted out. She didn’t need to confront Koszenmarc, not now or ever. She could pretend to be exhausted and ill and grieving. All of that would be true. All of that would be a lie.

  Anna drew in a breath, tried to find the center of calm within. How could she face this man without that sense of being centered? And yet, and yet…sometimes one had to stumble ahead even so. She knocked.

  “Come in.”

  Andreas Koszenmarc waited for her by the wide curving glass of his cabin, his hands clasped behind his back. His expression was stiff and unhappy. When she closed the door behind her, he said at once, “Anna. I’m sorry.”

  She had once convinced herself she only needed to hear those words to make everything right. From her father, who had left her in debt and desperate. From Lord Brun, who had treated her as a useful implement in his quest for power. From this man, for any number of reasons. Now? She felt only a curious ache in her chest.

  “We both lied,” she said softly. “You know my reasons. What are yours?”

  Andreas nodded. “Yes, I lied. I lied with words. I lied with silence. To you. To my company, to whom I owe a greater debt.”

  Anna remained silent, waiting.

  After a moment, he continued. “So. I told you the truth about how I came to Eddalyon, and that I joined a smuggler’s ship. But I lied when I said I had no idea they were smugglers. I knew. I didn’t care. I needed the money and I needed a trade. It was my father’s fault, I told myself.

  “I’d been in the islands nearly two years when we were taken by an Imperial ship. The court sentenced us to hanging. I waited a week, expecting my father to rescue me. My death might mean nothing to him, but the manner of it would reflect on our house and our family. He didn’t. Another week passed, and I had resigned myself to a swift and uncomfortable passage to my next life, when Maszny ordered me to his office. He spoke about my father’s shame, if I were hanged for a smuggler. I cursed him and my father both. When Maszny said nothing, I continued to curse. He waited until I ran out of breath, then offered me a different choice.”

  “Pirates,” Anna murmured. “Of a sort.”

  His gaze met hers, flicked away. “Exactly. But instead of looting villages and ships, I would kidnap troublemakers and deport them back to the Emperor’s prisons. Also, there were families who would pay to get their errant sons and daughters back before they became troublemakers. My reward would be the ransom money plu
s a stipend from the commander. Far more than I deserved,” he added.

  It had also given a refuge to Eleni and her son, among others.

  “What about me?” she said. “I’m no noble or runaway. You knew that before you kidnapped me.”

  Andreas smiled, unhappily. “But you were a troublemaker. Maszny had received reports from the Emperor’s people about Lord Sarrész and the missing jewel. He suspected the man who called himself Lord Toth was the thief Sarrész, but Sarrész vanished before Maszny could arrest him. When you arrived on Iglazi with your questions, he thought you might be an accomplice.”

  “So he sent you to kidnap me?” That made no sense.

  He shook his head. “No, I had my own reasons. I wanted to find the jewel myself. I—I needed the reward as badly as you did. Not just the money, but Maszny had promised me certificates of pardon for Eleni and everyone who served me. I grabbed hard, Anna. For me. For my company. I had no choice.”

  “No choice?” All her doubts from the past week rose up, strong and bitter. “Does that mean it was merely a tactic when you—”

  “No.”

  His answer was short and sharp.

  “No,” he said again. “It was not.”

  Anna released a shaky breath. “How can I believe you? How can you believe me? We both lied. We both broke each other’s trust.”

  She didn’t wait for his answer. She was tired of plausible explanations, his or hers or anyone else’s. She turned and left the cabin.

  CHAPTER 25

  Ten days had passed since Isana Druss had died. Eight days since the Konstanze had landed at Iglazi and Anna Zhdanov had fled the ship and its company for an anonymous inn far away from the harbor. Now she sat in Hêr Commander Maszny’s office at his invitation, oh-so-carefully worded and delivered by a discreet messenger.

  The commander’s office was much as she remembered it from her first visit—an airy expanse of blue-tiled floor with windows overlooking the courtyard. A place shadowed and cool in spite of the afternoon heat, but edged with sunlight—much like Dimarius Maszny himself.