The Captive Kingdom Page 11

  “All hands to begin repairs!” Strick shouted back.

  More quietly than before, Wilta added, “Against such an enemy as Captain Strick, perhaps there is no hope for us.”

  “The three of us are not enough to save your people,” Tobias said. “I’m very sorry.”

  They all turned to me, obviously wanting an assurance of victory, but I could not offer it. I only said, “How can I plan against an enemy I do not know?”

  “I know something else about the Prozarians,” Fink said. “Shortly after they brought the crates on board, Captain Strick came down to the cargo hold to inspect them. Without knowing I was hiding nearby, she told a crewman that her husband once violated a direct order of the Monarch and was sentenced to death. Her husband had been turned in by their son — that’s how afraid he was of the Monarch.”

  “Yet she continues in the Monarch’s service?” I asked.

  “Either through loyalty or fear, they all serve the Monarch.” Wilta frowned. “The captain says that although the treasure is important, far more important is their hope of returning to their former power. The Prozarians will view your possession of the scope as the greatest possible insult, not only to them, but especially to the Monarch.”

  Tobias leaned forward with the scope. “What will happen when the Monarch realizes this has been stolen?”

  Wilta shuddered. “No one knows, but it will be awful.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Keep everything else, but that scope will bring you endless trouble.”

  “I agree.” Tobias turned to me. “We have something they want, and they have Amarinda. If it’s that valuable, we can make a trade. Wilta could return to the captain and make the offer.”

  “No!” Wilta drew back, nearly breathless with fear. “Tobias, I will help you in any way I can, but please don’t send me back to the captain. If I return to her now, it will mean my death. Maybe even worse than what she’ll do to Jaron.”

  I hunched lower in the boat. “That will be a pleasant question to ponder as I fall asleep.” I turned to Tobias. “Wake me if anything happens.”

  Tobias put the scope back in its satin bag. “Let me make the trade.”

  “You can’t do that,” I said, grabbing it from him. “Right now, they don’t know where we are, and it has to stay that way.”

  Tobias’s eyes softened. “I’m scared for her.”

  “Me too. But we cannot help her from here. Now, please, Tobias, let me sleep.”

  He gave in, but he clearly wasn’t happy about my decision. I passed the scope to Fink to keep safe, then closed my eyes. If I slept at all, it didn’t feel any longer than a minute or two before Wilta rustled my arm, whispering, “Jaron, look!”

  The night had grown dark, but in the shadows I saw the outline of the fishing boat we had seen earlier, now much closer than before. Tobias and Fink had fallen asleep too. If not for Wilta, the boat might have passed us by.

  I used my knife to cut the rope connecting us to the Shadow Tide. As the larger ship continued to sail forward, we were slowly left behind, making the next few minutes extremely risky. If the night vigils spotted us and raised an alarm, we were utterly defenseless.

  “Do you know who is on the fishing boat?” Wilta asked. “Was this one of your plans too?”

  “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this boat has been so near the Shadow Tide since we were attacked, but no, I didn’t plan this.” I squinted, hoping to see anyone on the deck, but was unsuccessful. It didn’t matter though. No matter who appeared on the deck, we were getting on that boat.

  “What will happen to me now?” Wilta asked.

  “You’ll be safe with us.” I checked again to be sure Tobias and Fink were asleep, then in a quieter voice, added, “You know what is coming for us better than anyone else. Answer my friends’ questions, give your advice. But if I ask you to keep something a secret, I must be able to trust that you will do it.”

  “Why keep so many secrets? If they’re your friends, they’ll help you.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” I sighed. “The truth is, Wilta, that I can no longer trust Roden, which is a terrible blow for Carthya. And I don’t know what’s happening to Amarinda. I’m worried for my friends who were left behind when our ship was attacked. Fink and Tobias will want to help, but Fink is too young and Tobias can’t manage a sword. I need more time to work out some details before I speak to them.”

  She reached for my hand and squeezed it, then we woke Tobias and Fink to help row ourselves toward the fishing boat.

  It was an older craft, but large enough for a crew of ten, if they were willing to pack in close together. An open platform at the rear of the boat was for the helmsman, and behind it was a small wardroom, with sleeping quarters likely in the deck below. At the bow of the ship, a single mast carried a white sail, and notably there was no flag identifying this boat’s country of origin.

  Fifteen minutes later, our lifeboat intersected with the fishing vessel. Any hopes I’d had to see Mott or Imogen here immediately dissolved. Instead, a man with far more years behind him than ahead, and with less meat on his bones than the average ant, leaned over the railing and looked us up and down.

  “You young folks look lost,” he said.

  “We’d like to come aboard,” I said. “If we’re welcome.”

  He scratched his jaw. “My name’s Westler. And I’ve no more need of a crew. Can you get yourselves to land on your own?”

  “No more need?” I squinted. “When did you acquire a crew?”

  “It’s not really a crew. Hold on.” The man went to the center of his deck and began to climb down what appeared to be a steep ladder. A minute later, a head popped up through the same opening, and I felt almost as if for the first time in a day, I could breathe again.

  With that first breath, I whispered his name. “Mott.”

  He climbed onto the deck, though on a night with little available light, he had to bend over the rail to see us better. His eyes gleamed when he recognized us.

  In his hands was a grappling hook, which he threw over to us. Tobias caught it and linked our boats, then Mott pulled us close enough together that we could transfer to the fishing boat. I’d rarely been so happy to see someone.

  Mott grabbed me when I entered and pulled me into a tight, almost desperate embrace. I gasped and pushed back, becoming aware that I may have taken on more bruises than I had earlier realized.

  He helped Wilta from the lifeboat next. “She was a captive of the Prozarians,” I explained, before he could ask. “Wilta has been a friend to us.”

  She smiled shyly as she thanked Mott for his help. “For weeks I’ve dreamed of escaping the Prozarians. Jaron finally made it possible. I owe him a great debt now.”

  “Fink and I wouldn’t have made it off the ship without your help,” I said. “You owe me nothing.” I looked at Mott. “She needs a warm bunk. And we need to put distance between us and the Shadow Tide.”

  Mott looked at Westler, who was back at the helm. “Can you take us twenty degrees farther south?”

  Westler smiled at Mott but did nothing. In a quieter voice, Mott said, “He only hears about every other word, but don’t worry. Once you’re settled, I’ll change our course.”

  “I have a million questions,” I said. “But I must know if Imogen is here with you.”

  Without answering, Mott gestured to Wilta. “If you wish, my lady, I’ll take you to a place you can rest.”

  She nodded at him but gave a smile to me. “Thank you, Jaron. You have the gratitude of all my people.”

  “I haven’t done anything for them yet.”

  “No, but if anyone can, it will be you.” She leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss on one cheek, then whispered in my ear. “And I promise, I will keep your secrets.”

  When she pulled away, I heard footsteps hurrying up the ladder to the deck. I turned in eager anticipation, and suddenly, there stood Imogen, her eyes shifting from me back to Wilta.

  Imogen’s
cheeks and nose were bronzed from her time at sea, and the dress she had been wearing while on the Red Serpent was torn and stained. Her braided hair had come loose in places from the wind, and still, I didn’t think she had ever looked more beautiful.

  I immediately crossed the boat, unaware of anyone who might have been between us. She began to scold me and I knew that eventually she would get her chance. But for now, I was beyond happy to see her. She was just beginning to say my name when I kissed her.

  She returned the kiss, and when we parted, she seemed to have abandoned the idea of scolding me. Instead, she looked over our group and her face fell. “Where is Amarinda, and Roden?” she asked. “Why aren’t they here?”

  All at once, everyone began to ask their questions, throwing them out so fast, no one had the chance to give any answers.

  Finally, Westler raised his hands and said, “Enough!” When he had our attention, he said, “This is why no one gets anything done these days. Too much talking, not enough listening.” He looked around at us. “Now, which one of you is some sort of king?”

  “Me,” I said.

  He squinted and shifted his eyes from me to Tobias, the last to climb aboard. “Not him? He looks more like a king. You look like … a ruffian.”

  “We’ll take things from here; thanks for your generosity, Westler,” Mott said, returning to the deck, his arms loaded with biscuits and dried meats. He glanced at the food, explaining, “We’re welcome to all we can eat, provided we make some needed repairs around here. He’s kept me busy for two days.”

  “I have more work belowdecks.” Westler eyed me. “And if you’re good enough to rule a country, then you’re good enough to work my ship.”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied.

  Westler shrugged and returned to the helm while Mott led us all to the interior wardroom and laid out the food. I immediately stuffed one biscuit into my mouth and piled three more and an entire handful of meat in front of me, then addressed Mott and Imogen specifically. “Tell me how you both escaped.”

  Imogen’s story was what I had expected. “The idea was to create something that would trick them, drawing their attention away from the Red Serpent. Then I wanted to destroy my own trick, so they would forgo any pursuit of the lifeboat. I was hiding beneath the blanket.” She eyed Fink. “You were supposed to be on the lifeboat with me. What happened to you?”

  He shrugged. “I ended up somewhere else.”

  Mott said, “I didn’t know how many of us had escaped the ship and who was still there, so I went down to the bottom of the ship and found a place to hide. When I heard the first order to fire, I knew that would be the end of me. But the ship broke apart, and I was somehow still alive. Once I surfaced, I held on to some wood wreckage until this fishing boat appeared a couple of hours later. Westler picked me up and then we found Imogen. Now we’re here, and it seems we came just in time. Only you could make an entire ship’s crew want to kill you after only one day.”

  “It’s closer to two days.” I cocked my head. “And to be fair, it wasn’t the entire crew.”

  “It nearly was,” Tobias put in. “I mean, there might’ve been a few who —”

  “Stop talking, Tobias.” Mott turned back to me. “Shall we continue to follow the Shadow Tide?”

  “No, they’re headed in the wrong direction.”

  “The wrong direction for what?” Imogen asked.

  “Belland. It’s a seaside country nearly another day west of here. That’s where Wilta comes from.”

  Mott drew back. “Never heard of it. Never heard of her. Are you sure it was a good idea to bring her on board?”

  “Whether it was or not, she’s here. Now, we need to get to Belland ahead of Captain Strick.”

  “They’re already ahead of us, Jaron, and in a faster ship.”

  “Yes, but they’re also off course by four degrees. We need to plot our course and correct for that difference.”

  Mott smiled. “I can do that, but you need to stop bleeding on our clean deck.” He pointed to my leg. “Roden’s work?”

  I’d almost forgotten about my leg, but it had bled through Tobias’s wrapping. “How did you know it was him?”

  “It looks like his style.”

  After that, Tobias, Fink, and I answered their questions. About Amarinda, something Tobias clearly still blamed on me, about Fink stowing away, which Imogen also seemed to blame on me — “He must have thought you’d be proud of him if he went there.” And about the state in which I had left the Shadow Tide upon our escape. That one actually was my fault.

  But this led to the most difficult question, the one that I could not answer: What should we do now?

  We took a break from that question long enough for Fink to go to bed, and Mott to adjust our course, leaving me alone with Tobias and Imogen.

  Imogen brushed her hand over the bandage Tobias had knotted around my thigh. “I still can’t believe that Roden stabbed you.”

  I shrugged. “He had no choice. He had to do something dramatic enough to convince the captain that he is on her side.”

  Tobias frowned. “Can you be sure that he isn’t?”

  “He’s still loyal to us, Tobias.”

  “After what he did — after everything he’s done, I don’t see how you can still have any faith in him.”

  “Well, he is my friend.”

  “He’s doing what he always does — switching loyalties in an attempt to work his way up the ladder.”

  I snorted. “Working for Captain Strick is hardly moving to a higher rung of the ladder.”

  “How do you know he considers you a friend?”

  “Do I really have to explain this? As long as he doesn’t try to kill me again, we are still friends.”

  “And how do you know that he won’t try something?”

  My shrug should have been enough of an answer. But it wasn’t, so I added, “All I can say is that if he does, then he’s a terrible friend.”

  “He stabbed you, Jaron. That’s all I need to know.” Imogen gestured at the items I had brought with me from the Shadow Tide. “When did Roden know about these?”

  Tobias frowned. “I should confess that Roden told me about the crown before Jaron found out. If you’re blaming Roden for that, blame me too.”

  “We’re leaving that behind us now.” I waited to catch his eye before I continued, “Unless you have anything new to confess.”

  “I don’t, I swear it.”

  “I will get Darius’s sword back as soon as possible. And mine as well.”

  “Can we talk about Amarinda again?” Imogen asked. “You said that they chose her specifically — obviously to meet Darius. Doesn’t that suggest it’s really him on Belland?”

  “It suggests that the captain believes it’s him,” I said. “Not that it is him.”

  “Strick is a known liar,” Imogen said. “Whether she believes it’s Darius or not is irrelevant, because either way, she’s proven that she is willing to lie to you.”

  “But Wilta also says it’s true, that Darius is there,” Tobias said.

  Imogen frowned. “The same Wilta who was kissing Jaron’s cheek earlier? You want me to believe anything she says?”

  Mott ducked into the room where we were meeting, returning to his seat as before. “I agree with Imogen. Using your brother against you is a cruel weapon, but no doubt they believed it was a powerful one.”

  The deck fell silent, with the only sound being soft waves lapping against the sides of the boat. Imogen placed her hand over my wrist. I met her eyes and saw fear in them. That tore at me, more than anything else possibly could.

  “We can return to Carthya,” Imogen whispered. “Prepare to defend it from within our borders.”

  I shook my head. “We must go forward, to Belland.”

  “If they are lying about Darius, then this is blackmail.”

  “That is why I must go, to stop it at its source, before the threat comes to us.”

  “Jaron, these people don’t
want money or even the throne. They want your life! If we go, then you are walking straight into their trap … again!”

  “Yes, but what if this time Strick is walking into my trap? What if I can turn everything around on her? I’ve done it before.”

  “Having done something before is no guarantee of the future,” Mott said. “And have you considered what it means if Darius is alive?”

  “Of course.”

  Imogen shook her head, trying to make me understand. “Strick is probably lying to you.”

  “Agreed.”

  She flattened her hands on the table, fighting her frustration with me. “Then why would you go there?”

  “It’s the one word you said yourself: ‘probably.’ Darius is probably buried beneath the castle, this is probably a plan to pull me into danger, or to keep me away from Carthya, placing the country at risk. This is probably a terrible idea.” I lowered my voice and stared over at her. “But what if it’s not?”

  “If Darius is alive, he would expect you to protect Carthya first.”

  “What if he is alive? Would you have me spend the next eighty years asking myself if I could have saved him, if I should have saved him? If our positions were reversed, he would have saved me.”

  Imogen blinked twice. With a saddened voice, she said, “No, Jaron, he wouldn’t save you…. He didn’t save you. Darius shared in your father’s plan to strip you of your identity, knowing you could have died at any time while left out on your own. Your positions already were reversed. Your brother chose Carthya instead of you.”

  I stood, setting my jaw forward. “Then I am not my brother.”

  “You are not. And I believe you are all the more noble because of those differences. But we cannot go to Belland.” Imogen stood and began to leave.

  Before she did, I said, “Amarinda will be on Belland. So will Roden.”

  Thus, the decision was made. Imogen closed her eyes and slowly nodded, though I did not miss the tear that rolled down her cheek.

  Mott stood as well. “I’ll keep watch until one of you comes to relieve me in a few hours. Until then, Imogen, make sure he gets some sleep. No doubt, the hardest part is yet to come.”