Erick laughed at that. “There’s no trick, Sage. You just need more discipline. And a great deal of practice.”
“The practice I can do, but nobody’s ever been much good at disciplining me.”
Erick began to explain himself, then gave up. He pulled out Harlowe’s pocket watch to check the time and thrust it back into his pocket.
“You should be more careful with that,” I said.
“It’s not as valuable as I thought before,” Erick said. “Too many scratches and dings on it. Next time I’m in town I’ll have them melt it down and sell it for the gold.”
Not if I could help it.
We spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the camp. Near the cooking areas, a hearty freshwater stream fell over the cliff down to the beach. Erick pointed out that I was beginning to smell and suggested I consider washing up there. I told him it had taken a lot of work to smell as badly as I did and I wasn’t about to ruin it with a bath. I didn’t get around to mentioning that the scars on my back would be visible if I bathed, which at the least would invite questions about my past, and at the worst would reveal who I was.
Once down on the beach, I found a comfortable spot facing the sea and stopped exploring. After a while, Erick and even Fink gave up on me and left to find something better to do, but I was content to sit there and stare. It was calming in a way I very much needed, because it was becoming increasingly difficult to fight the feeling that something was going to happen soon. Something I wouldn’t be able to control.
Sometime late that afternoon, I wandered to the upper part of Tarblade Bay, hoping to find Imogen and try again to make her leave. But my attention was diverted by a ship entering the harbor below. It was unlike the pirate-marked schooners already in the harbor, and yet by the comments of others near me, they recognized several of the men on board. Obviously, this ship had been captured.
I made my way to the top of the hillside where I had a better view. Yet from my distance and without a scope, it was difficult to discern crew from pirates. It was true that pirates had an annoying habit of wearing black and that their general grooming was ragged at best, but these were hardly unique traits amongst many Avenians.
Agor walked up beside me and sighed with pleasure. “That ship looks profitable, don’t you think?”
“Where’s the crew?” I asked.
“Probably dead,” Agor said casually. “If not now, they soon will be, right?”
He laughed, then looked frustrated that I didn’t share in his joke. His tone turned nasty as he said, “Devlin only made you a pirate because of his greed. If it was up to me, you’d never have left that jail alive. Despite the stories Erick told us, I doubt you have the courage for this life.”
“It doesn’t take much courage to attack what’s clearly a peaceful ship,” I said, nodding at the ship in the harbor.
A cheer rose up amongst the pirates on land as the men on the boat dumped a body onto the beach. He was moving, but he appeared to be the only crewman they’d left alive.
“What’ll happen to him?” I asked Agor.
Agor looked at me as if I had moss for brains. “No one leaves Tarblade.”
Devlin had seen the ship too and stationed himself near Agor and me while the crewman was dragged up the steep hillside trail. Once he was dropped at Devlin’s feet, I finally got a good look at him.
He was probably in his fifties with a shock of gray hair sticking out from a wide-brimmed hat that identified him as one of the ship’s officers. He had the remnants of a bloody nose and a swollen black eye. And despite his attempts to look defiant, he was clearly terrified.
“Who’s this?” Devlin asked.
“My name is Swifty Tilagon,” the man said. “Ship’s navigator.”
Devlin swatted him across the cheek. “When I want to hear from you, I’ll speak to you!”
Agor stepped forward with papers given to him by one of the men who’d helped capture the ship. “It’s only rocks for cargo.”
“Not rocks,” Tilagon corrected. “I transport metals for a mine in the south. Copper and lead and whatever else we find.”
“Transport it where?”
“To Isel, to sell it. Please release me. That cargo represents several months of labor. Hundreds of men are waiting for their pay.”
Inwardly, I groaned. Did he have to tell them its value?
Devlin gestured to the pirates. “My men have been waiting for their pay too. I believe we need these metals more than anyone in Isel.” Then he nodded at Agor. “Kill this man, then unload his ship.”
The man yelped but by then I had pushed my way to the front of the crowd. “You should think bolder, Devlin.”