Somehow, Carrigan conjured a toddler out of the woods.
And then Tempest realized exactly what the boy was eating, and where the woman pilfered it from. She silently noted to take the price of the chocolate and marshmallow the Marionette was stuffing the runaway with out of her share of the haul.
Katar set his human cargo by the fire, then looked at the woman, equally as puzzled. “Where?”
The woman’s face split into a wide smile, and she fixed her eyes on their ambulatory prisoner. “Can you believe someone just left this handsome scoundrel sitting beneath a tree behind the camp?” She clicked her tongue. “Who leaves a baby out in these wolf-infested woods?”
Tempest turned to the man. “You’ve two of these kids? Are the nobles just turning them out into the wilds now?”
“Something like that,” he replied bitterly, sitting down across the campfire from Carrigan. “What is your plan, now that you’ve captured all of us?”
Carrigan’s voice was shamelessly chipper. “Fill this one with sugar and let you enjoy wrangling the carnage.” She held up another small square of chocolate, and the boy’s eyes lit up as he shoved it into his mouth. “Should be fun to watch.”
Rolling her eyes towards the sky, Tempest motioned for Katar to follow her. After wrapping the girl in his coat with father-like care, he joined her in the cargo hold of the Lady Shona.
Sliding down the ladder leading to the topside hatch of the ship, Enso hit the deck with a slight bounce and shouldered his rifle. “Crima is doubling back, double time. I’d say about ten minutes before he finds what’s left of Salasar and gets here. Stormdrive’s halfway there.”
“Good.” She took a deep breath to steel her nerves, garnering two curious looks from the men. She held up one finger to ward off their questions, and they both nodded and remained silent. “Ask when I’m not your captain. Katar, see to your drive. Ensio, help me stow our take.”
The tall man quickly scaled the ramp up to the second deck, vanishing into the corridor leading to the aft compartment where the stormdrive controls were housed. After locking his rifle into its proper slot on the cargo wall, Ensio grabbed the nearest length of strapping and began lashing down the last few day’s worth of trade. Most of it wouldn’t present any danger if knocked free; few were the ships sunk because a bolt of silk was rolling about the hold. But Tempest was nothing if not neurotic about the safety of her ship and crew. Everything was tied down, whether or not it could punch a hole in the hull.
Besides, silk sold for far more when it wasn’t stained by floor dirt and hinge grease.
It barely took two minutes to secure the entire hold, at which point Ensio ascended the ladder and headed into the cockpit to begin plotting their course back to home port. Taking another deep breath, she walked back down the ramp and around to the campfire.
“Pack it in. Crima’s doubling back.”
“Well, isn’t he persistent.” Hefting the toddler up, she tossed him in the air a few times, triggering a cascade of giggles and snot bubbles. “You’re such a cute little thing! I’m so glad you’re coming with us!”
Her spine went rigid. “What?”
“I need to see to Ensio.” Like a striking mountain cat, the Marionette dumped the toddler off in her arms and was on the ramp of the Lady before she even had time to turn around.
“You face dancing, whore-begotten bitch!” Tempest shouted at her retreating shadow.
“Alu’maris!” the woman called back in the Isvreni tongue, grinning like a fiend as she danced up the loading ramp and disappeared.
She ground her teeth together, staring at the squirming boy in her hands. His face was a mask of chocolate, and the rest of him was caked in traveling grime. Not that he seemed to mind looking like he just rolled face-first into a pigpen, but he did look terrified of her, clearly having overheard her thoughts of skinning Carrigan alive with a dull blade for what she was trying to do. His eyes began to well up with tears, his upper lip began to quiver, and she realized there was a ticking time bomb of hysteria in her hands.
Before the bawling started, she shoved him back into the arms of the man charged with protecting him and dusted her hands off. “Who are you, anyway, to be toting around these kids?”
His answer came without pause. “Ser Riordan Cassley.”
The name struck a cold iron nail through the center of her chest. It meant she could no longer pretend the two shared a similar appearance. “Cassley is a black name. Who are you to bandy it about so freely?”
Again, his answer came without hesitation. “The son of Cassley the Twice-Fooled.”
She stifled a cringe. “Were I you, I would abandon that name, Ser Cassley.” Tossing her hand towards her ship, she asked, “What did she promise you?”
The man took far too long to answer, telling her that whatever Carrigan promised him wasn’t what was about to come out of his mouth. “Free passage to Illa Fermyri for myself and the children.”
Tongue catching in her throat in a hiccup, she pounded on her sternum in an attempt to beat away the surprise at the boldness of the man’s reach. “She what?”
He faced her without flinching, only looking away when the girl roused herself and scuttled over to stand behind his knee and glare at her. She gave the annoying banshee a feral snarl, and the child immediately put the whole of Riordan’s body between herself and the evil pirate.
“I intend to see the bargain honored.”
“And I don’t doubt you’ll try your hardest.” She folded her arms against her chest. “But that wasn’t the captain of this ship.”
“What are we to do now?” squeaked the girl from behind his leg. “They know where we are! They will come for us!”
Riordan gritted his teeth, then took a decisive step towards her. “Show me to the captain. Now.”
“You’re in no position to command anyone, kingslayer.” Narrowing her eyes, she stepped to the side of the man to look down at the girl. “Who’s this man to you? Kidnapper? Court jester?”
“No!” She tried and failed to avoid the woman’s stare, instead locking both arms around the man’s hand. “They stormed the castle and killed everyone! They killed Malcom! Riordan saved Brom and I and mother… she…” The girl broke down and began to sob again. “She lied, did she not? She is not coming to join us! She is dead too! Why did we leave her alone? Why did you leave her there?”
While the man turned to tend to the girl attempting to beat away her grief by battering his legs, Tempest leaned back on her heels. There were rumors swirling about more trouble in the south, but none of the usual indications of invasion. It was hard to miss an assembling army along a border frequently crossed by every airship leaving the Isles.
“King Norand is dead?”
Riordan seemed surprised by her ignorance. “You did not know? Parlan is taken by Stoneweir, same as Cassloch, ten years ago. He had the King and Crowned Prince killed when they didn’t accept the terms of his parlay, and his men set fire to the castle at sunset.” A faint hint of sarcasm slithered into his voice. “Couldn’t see that from up here?”
Ignoring the snipe, she pursed her lips and glanced southward. “What does he want with Parlan?”
The princess continued to weep into the back of Riordan’s leg, nothing like the shrieking hysteria she’d come running into the camp with, or the frenzied self-preservation that let her seize Salasar by surprise. They were the heaving tears of grief unfettered, of realizing that everything and everyone you loved was dead, that the world you were raised in no longer existed.
And that there was nothing, at all, that would fix it.
Grabbing the toddler out of Riordan’s arms, then pointed at the sobbing girl. “Get her up and follow.” She hefted the boy onto her shoulders, and if he hadn’t been so upset by his sister’s wailing, she was sure he would have been giggling about being so far off the ground. “I’ll honor her bargain. Stoneweir will have ravens out to half the continent by now. There’s nowhere on land you’ll be able to hide yourselves for long.”
Picking the princess up by both arms, Riordan stumbled along after her. “Then you–”
She turned and made a flourishing bow, as best she could with the boy on her shoulders. “Captain Tempest of the Lady Shona. Try anything on my ship, and I’ll cut your hands off.”