Pirates & Privateers Read online

  Chapter 9

  CALDER SHOOK DAGRUN: she’d fallen asleep when he needed her awake and alert.

  “Shhh,” he said when she blinked at him. “I think someone is still out there. Can you see?”

  He’d had some time to think about Dagrun and Inger’s Traits: and especially the way they’d used them to diffuse the situation in the night. He didn’t know how they defined them but he was pretty sure that Inger was the one who was noticed and Dagrun went unnoticed. He was hoping it meant she would be able to see anyone who was hiding.

  Dagrun rolled over and peered through the bushes. After a few moments she turned to him.

  “There’s someone in that cabin.” She pointed to a small cabin to the left of the still-smouldering fire. “I’m not sure if they’re sailors or pirates.”

  “We’ll give them a chance to come out,” Calder said. He looked at Dagrun. “You fell asleep.” They were not safe: certainly not safe enough to sleep. Instead of looking embarrassed, anger clouded Dagrun’s face.

  “Ursa Ozlinch drugged me,” she said. “To keep me away from Inger and whatever they were planning to do.”

  “It didn’t work,” Calder said, wondering if Dagrun had a little bit of Luck. But that would mean Inger had Bad Luck and she was still alive.

  “No,” Dagrun said. “She tried to have her pretend drunk lock me up. But I got away.”

  “Hanne,” Calder said. Dagrun gave him a surprised look and he shrugged. “She’s Ursa’s spy. Which means she’s Margit Ansdottir’s spy.”

  “I came here on her ship,” Dagrun said. “She sailed us right through the Teeth.”

  “So, she’s the one,” Calder said. Jaak had told him he’d seen it done. “Someone’s moving.”

  The door to the cabin was easing open. He could only see the top half of the door and no one was in view, so he had to assume that whoever had opened it was staying close to the ground.

  “Jaak, what in Nyorden are you doing?”

  Calder turned his head in the direction of the voice, thanking Luck that neither he nor Dagrun had moved from their hiding place. Margit Ansdottir stepped out of a copse of trees to stand, hands on her hips, staring at the cabin. Calder followed her gaze in time to see a sheepish Jaak stand up.

  “Just trying to keep out of the way, Captain,” Jaak said. “Like you told me to. Didn’t mean no disrespect.”

  “You’re not boarding that ship,” Ansdottir said sternly. “I told you that too.”

  “No, Captain,” Jaak said. He took a few steps past the fire pit to stand looking up at her. “I heed your advice.”

  “Except when it comes to rejoining us,” Ansdottir replied. “You’ve not heeded that advice no matter how many times I’ve given it.”

  “I’m sorry, Captain,” Jaak said, and he really did sound sorry. “You know I can’t be party to the killing.”

  “Why, Jaak, no one’s been killed here,” Ansdottir said.

  “Not yet. But what about them who’re on the Bright Breeze? What about Captain Olmar?” Jaak shook his head. “You saying that none of them’ll be killed?”

  “Most of them will die whether we take the ship or not,” Ansdottir said. “Maybe not the next time they try to sail past Ostland, but it will be one time after that. Olmar is no real captain. And First Mate Charis? He’s joining me. You could crew for him, if you’d rather.”

  “On the Bright Breeze?”

  “Well, we won’t be calling it that,” Ansdottir said. “What do you say, Jaak? Are you ready to come home?”

  “It’s a very tempting offer, Captain,” Jaak said. “Can I take a day to think it over?”

  “One day, Jaak. Let me know at dawn tomorrow.” Margit Ansdottir turned and walked away, and Jaak sank to the ground.

  “How did I miss her?” Dagrun said beside him. “She should have been obvious to me.”

  “Not if she has the same Trait as you,” Calder said. “Not being noticed or whatever you call it.” She glared at him, which told him he was right. “I figured it out after seeing you and your sister last night. All eyes were on her. Except,” he frowned, “Ansdottir watched you the whole time. She even pointed you out to Ursa.”

  “She must have my Trait,” Dagrun said. “Nothing else makes sense. It would explain how she can navigate through the Teeth. Unseen. I can remain unseen and see things hidden.”

  “And Inger is the opposite,” Calder said. “Seen.” He nodded to himself. That’s why she held everyone’s attention even while Dagrun was walking the sailors out from under their noses.

  “Where is she?” Dagrun asked. “Inger?”

  “Are you worried?”

  “Not that they’d hurt her,” Dagrun said. “But she takes everything at face value. Oh skit. I told her Ursa had drugged me. I have to find her.”

  “Is she in danger?” Calder asked. He didn’t see how knowing that would be a threat to Inger.

  “You don’t understand,” Dagrun said. “Inger will probably ask Ursa about it. And she’ll believe whatever lie Ursa comes up with, but . . .”

  “Ursa might not trust her after that.” Calder nodded. “All right. You stay here. I’ll try to find her.” He’d go for a meal at the Broken Mast; he hadn’t been seen during the night so no one should question him.

  “No.” Dagrun put a hand on his arm. “I have to go.”

  “You can’t. Margit Ansdottir was here looking for you.” He shrugged. “No one is looking for me. I’ll make sure Inger is safe and tell her not to say anything to Ursa and then come back here.”

  “All right,” Dagrun said, but Calder knew she didn’t like it.

  THE BROKEN MAST was so quiet that Calder wondered if they were even open for business. But as usual, Hanne was at the back table. He took a seat at a table near the bar, assuming that since Hanne was there, someone would be serving something. A few moments later, Ursa came in from the kitchen.

  “Not much choice after all the excitement last night,” Ursa said.

  “Anything you have will be welcome,” Calder replied. “I ate an early supper and then fell straight asleep. Did something happen last night that I need to know about?”

  “Nah.” Ursa left and a minute later emerged with a bowl. She sat it down in front of him.

  He leaned over to look. Porridge: not his favourite but it looked edible. He looked up. “Is there a spoon?”

  “You’re from the Bright Breeze,” Ursa said flatly. “What are you doing still in town? That ship’s due to pull up anchor soon.”

  “I came in with them,” Calder said. “But I didn’t exactly see eye to eye with the captain or the crew.”

  “You’re the one who saved the ship.”

  “I’m not sure I’d say that, exactly,” Calder said carefully. He’d heard Captain Ansdottir say that Charis had talked about him. Had Ursa heard this from Ansdottir? “It’s not wise to disrespect your captain even if you’re not crewing for them anymore.”

  “Fair enough.” Ursa set a spoon on the table. She gave him a long look before heading back to the bar.

  Calder picked up the spoon and ate his porridge. More salt would have helped, but he wasn’t about to ask for anything, not when Ursa had barely decided to tolerate him. It wasn’t until he pushed his empty bowl away that he remembered that Ursa had drugged Dagrun. She wouldn’t do that to him, would she? He sat back in his chair and sighed. He had to trust his Luck: if he had been drugged it was because it would lead him to knowledge he needed and couldn’t get any other way.

  He didn’t feel as though he’d been given anything other than porridge. Ursa had disappeared from behind the bar, so he paid—he deliberately chose a Pilalian coin—and left. He still needed to find Inger.

  Calder wandered towards the inn and his room. He really should have gone there first: obviously not to look for Inger but in case someone had sent him a message. The door to his room was still locked, and when he entered, nothing seemed out of place.

  He grabbed his fresh set of clothes and heade
d to the shower. Dagrun might not appreciate him taking the time to clean up but he needed to act as though he wasn’t even aware of the events of last night. Besides, his Luck had to find him, not the other way around.

  Because of the salt water the shower wasn’t quite as refreshing as the ones he was used to, but he was able to wash off most of the grime. And dressed in clean clothes, he felt the way he was trying to look; as though he knew nothing and was affected by nothing the pirates or the Bright Breeze crew were doing.

  And of course, as soon as he stepped out of the shower he literally bumped into Inger.

  “I am sorry,” Calder said loudly. “I didn’t see you. Hey, I recognize you from the tavern. You work there, don’t you?”

  “Um, yeah,” Inger said, clearly surprised to see him. “I’m just here to wash up before work.”

  “Another apology, then,” Calder said. “I didn’t realize I was making anyone wait.” He stepped away from Inger, who still looked surprised. “Oh,” he said. “Maybe I’m not even allowed to use the shower?” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Dagrun says not to talk to Ursa about what she told you.” And then, more loudly, “I’m just over at the inn so I assumed . . .”

  “I’m . . . uh,” Inger stammered. “Sure, it’s fine.” She ducked her head in an awkward nod and entered the shower.

  Calder headed back to his room. He’d drop off his dirty clothes and then get back to Dagrun to tell her that her sister was fine and that he’d delivered the message.

  “There you are,” someone said as soon as he entered his room. Calder, key still in his hand, turned to find Charis sitting in the chair by the window.

  “You didn’t come back last night and now here you are acting as though nothing happened,” Charis said. “What are you up to?”

  “Me?” Calder forced himself to relax as he walked over and dumped his dirty clothes beside Charis’ feet. “I just got back from using the shower.” He sat on the bed and faced Charis. “Why?”

  “You may have used the shower,” Charis said. “But we both know you didn’t sleep here last night. I wonder where you were.”

  “Keeping out of trouble,” Calder replied. Had Charis been spying on him? “Which I hope keeps me alive.”

  “You are good at that,” Charis said. “And smart about it, too. Which is why I’m here talking to you instead of putting you with the rest of the Bright Breeze crew.”

  “I’m not crew,” Calder said. “Not any more than you are.”

  “Exactly,” Charis said. “Which is why I think I can trust you.” He leaned forward. “I’m going to be captain of my own ship very soon and I’m looking for good sailors. I can’t give you First Mate, but I could give you Second. Then you can prove yourself and work your way up.”

  “That’s generous,” Calder said. “But I’m not sure I’m up to the task.” It was the Bright Breeze that Charis was going to be given, that was the only ship it could be. He was being asked to become a pirate.

  “Rahm, we both know you’ve captained a ship or two. If you don’t want it, say so.”

  “I’m on my way to Pilalia,” Calder said. “That’s the truth. Otherwise I’d seriously consider your offer. I think I’ve sailed with much worse captains than you and the lifestyle,” he paused; he didn’t want to insult him, “of a privateer isn’t something I haven’t lived before.”

  “I knew it,” Charis crowed. “I told them you were one of us.”

  Calder had to revise his opinion of Charis: he hadn’t mutinied. He’d been on board the Bright Breeze exactly for this reason. Charis already was a pirate.

  “But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m needed in Pilalia,” Calder finished. Would that be a good enough explanation? Sides were being chosen and he’d prefer to be neutral.

  “I’ll have to discuss it with . . . others,” Charis said. “But think about my offer.” He got up to leave but turned around at the door. “In the meantime, don’t go anywhere.”

  Calder joined in when Charis laughed but the laughter died as soon as the other man left. Don’t go anywhere was a threat when it came from the only people with a way to get anywhere else.

  He sighed and stood up. He still had to tell Dagrun that her sister was safe.

  She was asleep, right where he’d left her. Calder felt bad that he hadn’t been able to bring her anything to eat—it had been all he could do to get a meal himself—but he had brought her a water skin.

  He shook Dagrun awake and leaned close to her ear.

  “Inger’s safe,” he said.

  “Thank Nyorden.” Dagrun dragged a hand through her hair, dislodging a few leaves. She sat up and took the water skin he offered and drank deeply. “She was at the tavern?”

  He shook his head. “She was waiting for me to finish with the shower. We didn’t really talk.”

  “But she’s safe,” Dagrun repeated.

  “Yes.” He sat back, wondering how much he should tell her. “But she is one of them.”

  “I know. She told me she was joining them last night. That’s when I,” she paused. “That’s when I had her use her Trait to keep their attention.”

  “While you used yours to get the Bright Breeze crew out of the line of fire,” Calder finished. He’d thought as much: opposite Traits at work.

  “She was willing to shoot them,” Dagrun said. “I couldn’t let her.”

  “No, I suppose not,” Calder replied. He didn’t think the crew would live very long anyway. The Bright Breeze was going to be captained by Charis, which did not bode well for the crew.

  “I won’t let my sister become a killer!” Dagrun looked away, and when she looked back at him, there was pain and worry in her eyes. “She’ll never be able to come back if she does that. Not just to me, or North Tarklee and Nordmere, but to herself. Once she’s killed, I’m afraid . . .” Dagrun trailed off and looked away again.

  “That she’ll like it,” Calder nodded. He’d killed two men: both had been trying to kill him and he hoped he never had to do it again. But there were people who felt empowered by killing, who became addicted to the dominance they felt when dealing death.

  “Yes,” Dagrun said. “And that she’ll get caught. Inger can’t do much without being noticed.”

  “Her Trait,” Calder agreed. “Do you think that’s why the pirates seem so eager to have her join them? That they have a use for her Trait?”

  “Oh skit, I never even thought of it that way but probably,” Dagrun said. She blew out a big breath. “Inger thinks it’s because they like her—that Ursa likes her.”

  “They do,” Calder said. “But they probably want her Trait, too.”

  “She always hated that her Trait wasn’t useful,” Dagrun said. “I don’t think the pirates will use it for good, and she won’t like it being used that way.” She shook her head. “At least in the past she wouldn’t have liked it, but now? I’m not so certain. They have some kind of hold over her that I don’t yet understand. Do you think it’s safe for me to go back to the tavern?”

  Calder frowned. “I don’t think anyone is safe, including me, although at the moment you should be fine. But we should choose a better rendezvous point, in case we get separated.”

  “There’s a beach about an hour walk along the shoreline,” Dagrun said. “With a dinghy pulled up on it. We can meet there. I’m going to talk to my sister.” Without waiting for him to answer, she got up and strode away.

  Calder stayed hidden for another half hour, wondering how Dagrun Lund knew about a dinghy on a beach: and who owned it. Eventually he headed back to his room. He would stay inside—except for meals—and try to stay out of trouble.

  DAG DIDN’T SEE anyone on her way to the tavern. Had Margit Ansdottir decided she wasn’t a problem?

  She’d spent the night in the bushes and she looked it, so she planned on slipping into Inger’s room for fresh clothes and then having a shower, before showing up at the tavern.

  “Where have you been?”

  Dag looked up a
nd saw Inger, her hands on her hips, glaring at her from beside the tavern.

  “You look terrible,” Inger continued. “Are you all right?” Now she looked worried, and Dag had a moment of smugness—but then she thought about how worried she would be—had been about Inger, when she’d disappeared.

  “I’m fine,” Dagrun said. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I can’t talk here. And I need a shower.”

  “You sure do need a shower,” Inger said loudly with a grin. Dag rolled her eyes, and her sister silently giggled, which made Dag roll her eyes again. It wasn’t anything to laugh about, fearing that your conversations were being listened to.

  Dag headed around the corner of the tavern to the rear door, Inger trailing her. Once in Inger’s room, Dag rummaged around for something clean to wear—at least cleaner than what she had on—and tossed a shirt and trousers onto her bed. Inger sat on the other bed and watched her.

  “What do you know about Hanne?” Dag asked. She’d been thinking about who would be able to listen to them and Hanne was always in the tavern. Ursa’s spy, Calder had said. Who else could it be?

  “Hanne? Drunk Hanne?”

  “Except she wasn’t drunk when she tried to lock me up last night,” Dag said. “Does anyone else sit with her?”

  “She’s always alone,” Inger said. “At that back table. And she is a drunk. I take her drinks constantly.”

  “But poured by Ursa,” Inger said. She sighed. “I told you that Ursa drugged me last night. Have you spoken to her?”

  “No,” Inger said. “I thought . . . well, after Calder told me not to say anything I didn’t want to see her until I spoke to you.”

  Dag relaxed. “Good. I think I’ll just do the obvious and you should too.”

  “I have a choice?” Inger said, and Dag actually grinned.

  “Ursa told me I would be taking a nap,” Dag said. “That’s pretty clear that she had drugged me. So, you should be mad at her for that.”

  “I won’t need to pretend that.”

  “And me, I went to watch what was happening, and then whatever she put in my drink finally kicked in and I passed out in some bushes.” It was close enough to the truth. Margit Ansdottir had noticed what she’d done, but Dag didn’t think the captain would personally question her about it. “You haven’t been to the tavern yet today because you were worried about me and angry at Ursa.”