"I will have to be nice to her. I need calm to bring her aboard Gaia."
And that would be his hardest battle. Convince her that there was an excellent explanation for waking up in Mayra's room that day. That there were also reasons for his removal from the Armada.
-Do you know what you're doing?
Richard shook his head decisively. At no time did the Armada leadership attract him again. It was no longer his life objective. it was unbelievable
- I know exactly what I'm doing.
The first mortar fire had been just a warning. The others that followed in successive shots made a revolted and irritated tavern keeper admire the construction of the dais with concern.
Garro was a short man, middle-aged and a few pounds overweight. He knew better than anyone about the cannons of the fluty that supported them. He grumbled.
The others that followed in successive shots made a revolted and irritated tavern keeper admire the construction of the dais with concern.
Garro was a short man, middle-aged and a few pounds overweight. He knew better than anyone about the cannons of the fluty that supported them. He grumbled.
It was The Gaia.
The innkeeper had reinforced the prisoner's security with categorical orders. No one was to enter that cell except servants who would prepare the young odalisque in sheer clothes for the Oriental auctions. Only the thought could turn Garro on, only the cowardice was stronger. He had no interest in dying for a woman. Richard Morgan was not an opponent he would enjoy crossing swords with. Revenge was sweet. Once the woman was bought and taken to any of those harems, Richard would never rescue her.
Richard Morgan could be furious. He would never risk that girl's life. Not after he found out that the hell girl everyone believed was dead was alive. And that was a small precaution in case the plans didn't go well.
Bloody Pirate's ship fired back from the island's main harbour as if it made any difference against that fluty with its fifty cannons, mortars and flame throwers.
Garro was apprehensive. A date with Richard Morgan did not bring high expectations but the chance to get revenge on that girl was too tempting. As if that were not enough, the Coral Negro was also in Chabone. The Morgan family used to hamper her illegal rule over white slaves, causing her financial losses. Still… Ah, that captain had humiliated him. The scaffold was ready and awaiting dawn for executions... Garro recalled the occasion bitterly.
An enraged Richard will destroy the tavern, the slave quarters and the entire shed stocked with prominent spices from the contraband.
Garro just stared at the woman consumed with lust. Her intention had never been to hang her. He had personally chained the girl to the iron rings in the cove. Once the tide came in Cassie would be dead.
He also knew that Cornor coveted the Revenge wheel and hated the woman. But most of all, Garro knew his enemy's fury. Despite all the desire, he wasn't foolish enough to give in to the pleasure and have Richard looking for him ready to kill him.
Ah, from a corsair a paltry pirate! The winds changed without a doubt. He gauged his enemy's reaction to discovering after so long that the woman was alive. And a prisoner of the Order of Light. The best news was about ancient artefacts. And the older, the more valuable.
Everything happened at the time suited to his interests when Valerius had decided to propose the bargain.
The innkeeper reflected on that. There was no way they could invade the island square or the centre of the village. His security men guarded discreetly. And as for Philip Morgan… Garro shook his head. He had also heard that the girl who accompanied the captain was the victim of a sorcerer's blood curse. Everything was perfect. He knew. On his orders, the guards had managed to capture a young sorcerer who was a member of the Order. This boy's blood could be valuable in a bargain to save the life of the commander's daughter. That blood was far better than safe conduct guaranteed by the Armada.
But the confident man did not notice the sudden silence as he entered the tavern, nor the warmth that the fire brought as it crackled in the hearth of the tavern hall.
He had ordered the chimneys to be cleaned as winter was approaching and the negligent slave had certainly not gone about her duties. He would have the woman flogged for disobeying him, he thought vaguely as he returned to the comfort of the hall.
He stopped in surprise as he took in the table set and the bottle of his most expensive fine wine on the crisp white linen tablecloth. He grunted angrily. He would not only have her flogged but leave her tied to the trunk.
-I believe you were waiting for my arrival!
The deep, husky voice echoed in the silence of the empty hall. Garro cursed as he narrowed his gaze in the dimness with growing discomfort.
It was a curse! He recognized the low, visibly annoyed voice. Had he gotten past his guards? Annoyed, Garro's hand dropped to the pistol strapped to his waist and stopped short. Unable to move. Paralyzed and not breathing. The cold blade of a sword pinched her throat painfully.
-I thought... l-thought...
-Sorry, what did you say? – Richard relieved the pressure
-I thought we had a deal. It had been very clear that he would not go back to Chabone!- the little man complained and was quite nervous when he managed to breathe again.
An irritated growl brought out the complaint.
-Let me think...- Gaia's captain rolled his eyes.- Ah, that same agreement that said you were going to stay away from my wife? Richard continued to hiss and his voice was hard as steel.
Garro sweated. His courage was low. He knew he was in trouble. Perhaps it had been a mistake! Sweat dampened his hands. He swallowed hard as his eyes widened. It was suddenly an infernal heat!
-I... I swear, Ricky. I didn't touch her. Really. I didn't even touch your wife!
Richard looked at him coldly and annoyed.
-Hey. I just decided to keep her imprisoned. Consider that this is why you are still alive. The last one wasn't so lucky.- he warned very seriously.- You know, Garro. I think our agreement was broken. So I will kill you!
The corsair's gaze burned with rage. Garro noticed the detail, forcing himself to take a deep breath. This man was not just any adversary one would want to meet. The raging knight. They said he was also a wolf. A renegade wolf. His implacable countenance accentuated his dark, annoyed features. It was a dilemma.
If it was Morgan... Agh... He could still argue. He had the sorcerer's blood the man needed. Curse! Richard had never been the diplomatic type of man.
Garro was already sweating profusely, oblivious of all his anger. Where were his guards? Curse! Curse! It was lucky to have transferred the girl from there or they would have found her by now. The tavern showed signs that it had been searched.
-We will! I'm your friend, mon captain. - He saved time. - Who can you trust?
Garro was beginning to appeal, surreptitiously looking around. Was he there alone? Where the hell were all the guards?
Richard shook his head, narrowing his eyes impatiently.
-It doesn't have to be unpleasant, my friend. - He commented with restrained fury. He continued with an indifferent shrug. "By the way, I've dismissed your guards on duty. Anyway, it wasn't a big deal. Mercenaries are usually better if you're willing to pay.
The rest of his patience disappeared like dust in the wind. His men had searched the centre of the village minutely without finding anything. There was no sign of Cassie. She had disappeared after being told that he was responsible for her removal from the Corsair Armada. The woman was also not among the other captives awaiting the start of the auctions. It had been impossible to track her scent.
"To what do I owe the honour?" Garro tried to ease the tension.
He also starts looking at the wall in front of him where the pistols and ammunition were hanging in case of any eventuality. As that. The only downside was that it wasn't on his desk. Richard was there, sitting in his chair, his black boots gleaming with mud on the white linen of the expensive towelling fabric.
-Come on, Garro.- Richard smiled with obvious irony without disguising it.- No need to be rude. Let me get you some wine. After all, you didn't want the auction bids?
The cool smile on his face made Garro swallow again. Richard was curbing the urge to grab the little man and kick him around. Garro was the same as always. If there was one kind of language the rascal could understand, it was money.
Oh hell! He had been too hasty. He shook his head. He should have looked for Morgan and Michael first.
The rest of his patience was at last overthrown. The chair was knocked away with a dull thud, scraping the expensive, good-quality wood of the floor. Garro grunted. Yet Richard didn't even seem to notice as he brusquely braced his hands and stood up.
-Consider, mon Amie, that I am not as satisfied as you can imagine. – He started with an acidic tone of voice.
Richard took the dagger from his belt and absently began to make marks on the table before driving the tip of the blade hard into the wood.
"Consider still," he continued, and his gaze was murderous. – I've been hearing rumours. Against our business, you keep my wife prisoner to be traded at auctions. And... her abilities...
-It's a lie! All the pure lies.- Garro assured wiping the sweat from his forehead. I'm innocent. They brought the woman.
Richard rolled his eyes. Impatience turned to frustration. It didn't take long to send what little diplomacy he still had to hell. Old habits never died. He sighed again.
-Does that mean I shouldn't kill you? Tell me, why wouldn't you send the cannons to attack your miserable island?
Garro was pale.
-You... You can't!
The corsair laughed as he faced a nervous innkeeper.
-I don't believe Bloody would get involved in our friendly negotiation.
Did he call it a friendly negotiation? It was blackmail! Garro gasped.
-You won't do that!
That man was as tractable as ever. Perhaps less tolerant. But Garro's intention was not to negotiate. James' orders were for the Morgans brothers to be occupied with Faith's whereabouts. And then there was the question of money. Those amethyst eyes were rare. They would be worth a considerable fortune among the Orientals.
-Look, be reasonable. - The tavern keeper defended himself very hastily. - I didn't touch your wife. I am a man of my word.
Richard growled, frowning as he faced the man haunted by memories. They had gone through everything: tavern, prison, and the entire cellar without finding anything. He shook his head adamantly.
-Where Garro? he roared relentlessly. "Where's Cassie?"
Garro was sweating profusely.
- She... she's alive. I swear to you! - he spoke stumbling.
The statement brought no relief. Richard desperately wanted the woman. To hell with damn diplomacy. He had only stopped the attack of Gaia's cannons for fear of hitting the girl's captivity. He went back to cursing.
-I asked. Where is it? My Wife? - he growled furiously like an animal. – I don't think I heard the answer.
Garro's mouth twitched. The course of the conversation was far from promising. Ships would start arriving in two days at most. Usually, those merchants were suspicious. I needed time. His nervousness had no limits.
-If you kill me, you won't find her. This is a promise!
Richard cursed loud and clear. Ah, he would send the cannons to attack the tavern. And then a pleasant walk on the board. The ideas of what he could do with Garro were suggestive. His gaze burned as he fixed the white gold chain the man wore around his neck. The emerald stone gleamed…the same colour as Cassie's eyes.
He completely forgot about the dagger. He was puzzled. That gem... his eyes gleamed hard as stone. God! Despite everything—and his list of mistakes seemed endless—had she kept the stone?
There was no better sense. More aggressive negotiations always worked. Even because Richard doubted that the Armada would tolerate any insubordination from a former commander. To hell with the safe conduct. That bastard kept his wife imprisoned somewhere. The command of the Armada did not matter to him and he realized with amazement how much had changed. He wanted Cassie. And he had no intention of going back to his old life. He got to his feet with unbelievable agility.
Three feet of steel rose in front of a startled innkeeper. The sharp edge of the metal carefully lifted the chain as it trickled a single drop of blood onto Garro's shirt.
The man yelled angrily. Richard never traded. He usually attacked and then asked questions. His gaze fixed on the jewel made Garro grunt. Agh, the negotiations weren't going well.
-If that's what you want, you can stay!- he complained, bewildered.
Garro was beginning to doubt the success of that bargain. Usually, Richard was more restrained. He felt a shiver down his spine as he remembered the stash of pepper and cinnamon. There was a small fortune there.
"Go away!" he yelled angrily.
Richard's brows drew together in distaste.
-I want my wife! And maybe," he hissed as he narrowed his eyes after a significant pause, "Perhaps I'm inclined to spare your precious spice shed this time. Or maybe not set the silk on fire.
Garro widened his eyes chokingly.
- It won't come close to my silk. You know what a handful of that pepper is worth / And the cinnamon, then! I'm warning you...
Richard pretended not to hear.
-...but as for the platforms... - he was adamant. - On second thought...
Garro's gaze froze in fear. He... He wasn't serious!
-The day after tomorrow, Ri... Richard. - He was sweating quite tensely. - You have my word. I give you the girl's whereabouts.
Richard sighed as he shook his head. On second thought, the most attractive idea was to put Garro in the trunk. He might as well forget the detail that he hated physical punishment. He arched an eyebrow.
-You have until tomorrow night. The first place I have blown up is the port with its precious and lucrative customers," he barked seriously.
Garro could be an unscrupulous coward but still, he was greedy. And Richard had undercover men roaming the streets lined with colourful tents. Rumours circulated.
They said that the ships brought emissaries of Arab sultans. Garro would not turn over the woman if he believed he could profit a small fortune. Raising that sum had taken more time than he could wait for the ship to set sail. He vaguely agreed.
-Until tomorrow night!-He repeated it.
Somewhere on that damned island, he had placed his prisoner woman awaiting bids.
Some sorcerers had the gift of sight. Kassuim was a witch. Resigned, he decided to return to the ship and look for the brothers.
Dimly he remembered another festival. So much had happened since then.
Bloody Pirate had arrived with the Unicorn in Chabone. And he wasn't diplomatic at all. Rick needed all the help. Even more so than the brother-in-law.