“Obviously.”
Erick was less amused this time. “Do you want to know this or not?” I shrugged and he continued. “There’s a steep path that leads from the living areas down to the beach below. It’s a cliff wall along most of that beach otherwise. Backed against the cliff wall are places for everyone to sleep, except for the senior pirates up on top.”
“That’s where we’ll sleep, then,” I said, “by the beach.”
“You’ll love it,” Erick said. “Each wave hitting the shore is another note in a lullaby.”
With that we fell into silence. Although I had to admit an excitement to sit beside the sea again, I was nervous about meeting the pirates. Everything I cared about hinged on my success, and at this point, failure seemed far more likely. It was several hours later when Erick halted our group and pointed ahead. From our position there was very little evidence of anyone living here, yet Erick proudly announced, “Welcome to Tarblade.”
As we rode farther into Tarblade Bay, our reception was as frosty as I’d expected. Pirates dressed mostly in black peered around corners of huts or from beneath their low-brimmed hats. A few of them withdrew whatever weapon they carried and slunk toward Erick, Fink, and me. A quick glance at my companions told me they felt just as anxious as I did. There were far too many ways for this moment to go wrong.
Erick held out his sword, blade down, then signaled for me to do the same. Fink had snagged the sword I’d refused, but it looked large for him and he struggled to manage it with only one hand.
The expressions on the pirates’ faces ranged from unfriendly to murderous, with more of them in the latter category than I’d have liked. They looked rougher than most other men I’d ever encountered and were more sordid than any description I’d read about them. I wondered if Devlin was amongst them and how I’d respond when we met. I could hardly think his name without a surge of anger inside me.
As the pirates got closer, one of them recognized Erick. Perhaps this man had been stretched too often as a child, because everything about him seemed long: his height, his face, his nose. His cobalt blue eyes were too close together, but at least they’d escaped the stretching, and his thin dark hair fell like twine and came almost to his shoulders. When he saw us, his face widened into a grin. “Erick, my friend! How long has it been?”
“Too long, Agor. Too long.” Erick replaced his sword, then dismounted. Gesturing, he said, “This is Fink, an errand boy of mine” — I noticed Fink blink at that — “and this is a new member of my family, Sage.”
I tried to look like whatever Agor would expect to see as he studied me.
“Are you Avenian?” Agor asked. “What’s your history?”
“He’s Avenian,” Erick answered for me. “But his reputation was made in Carthya.”
Agor raised an eyebrow and with a chuckle I added, “Trust me, I am very well known in Carthya.”
Agor considered that, then said to Erick, “Why have you come?”
“To talk to Devlin. I have a proposal for him.”
“Devlin won’t return until this afternoon. You can tell me your proposal.”
Erick hesitated. He didn’t want Agor to get the credit for our news, but he couldn’t refuse a direct request either. Finally, with a smile, he made the only choice he could. “Of course, my friend. But I’d rather we spoke in private.”
“You make me curious.” Agor motioned that they should walk down the hill, to where the huts were located. Fink and I slid off our horses with the intention of joining the meeting, but Agor held up a hand. “Not you two. I don’t know you yet.”
“But it’s my idea he wants to tell you about,” I protested.
“It’s only talk,” Erick said calmly. “You and Fink wait here for me.”
“Not here.” Agor gestured to a couple of men behind us. “Lock them up.”
I went for my knife but Erick got to me quickly and put a steadying hand on my arm. “It’s just until I talk to them. Let them have your weapons.”
“If we decide you’re all right, you’ll get these back,” Agor said as I reluctantly handed my knife and sword to the men.
“What if you decide I’m not?”
Agor grinned, revealing gaps between several of his teeth. “Then you won’t need these weapons where you’re going.”
“Come this way,” a black-haired pirate said, using my own sword to guide Fink and me deeper into Tarblade.
The prison wasn’t far from the hut where Agor and Erick went to meet, but it was mostly dug into the ground, with only a small iron-barred window near the roof for air and light. The room itself was tiny and lined with stale earth or rusty bars. Beyond that a chair had been placed, where the black-haired pirate was to be our vigil.
“How long do you think we’ll be in here?” Fink asked.
“Dunno.” I pulled at the bars blocking the window, but they were firm.