Page 6 of A Pirate's Pleasure

“Man by the name of Erolith Magran,” one of the other soldiers supplied. “He was a just man. A man known for his acts of charity. A man who deserved a better ending than to have his throat cut while he was sleeping.”

I winced. Was that how it had happened? I hadn’t stuck around to find out the details once I’d realized that I was the prime suspect. I hadn’t even risked returning to the house for a horse, or money, fleeing on foot instead. “He was my friend,” I forced out past the lump in my throat, determined to get that point across as often as I could. I’d probably still be saying it when they put a noose around my neck. Poor Erolith. We might not have been friends for that long, but from our first meeting we’d gotten along famously. Many were the nights that we’d shared ale and put the world to rights. He had deserved a better ending. It was the one thing we were in agreement about.

“Is that right?” Zephyr stated. “And what makes you so sure that this man was the culprit?”

The young soldier who’d relieved me of my knife held it up with a flourish. “Murder weapon was found by the bed, wasn’t it? Matching knife to this one. Lord Cooper was well known to have a pair of knives. Only seems to have one now, doesn’t he?”

Something crawled up from my gut and settled in my throat. So that was what had made them so sure. “Someone stole it,” I said. “A week or two before Erolith’s unfortunate demise.”

“Convenient,” one of the other soldiers muttered.

“So you’re taking him to face justice, then?” Zephyr asked.

“That’s right,” the young soldier said. “Been tracking him for weeks, haven’t we?” There was a chorus of nods. He puffed his chest out. “No man can evade us for long.”

“In that case,” Zephyr said, levering himself away from the wall. “I won’t hold you up any longer and I commend you on your determination to see justice served.” He stepped out of the way and extended an arm in an invitation to pass him.

I tried to catch his eye as they marched me past, but Zephyr refused to make eye contact. So… he’d risen from his bed—Dax presumably fetching him after he’d let the soldiers in—just so he could twist the knife that he’d already placed in my back when he’d refused to help me. At least I knew where I stood with him. Dax met my gaze, but seemed to have nothing to offer in terms of a moment of friendliness, or even apology, just staring right back at me.

The early morning air was crisp as we tumbled out into it, the sky a beautiful array of reds and golds. Would I get to see another sunrise? I doubted there was such a thing as a cell with a view. And court proceedings were nothing but a formality, the process usually done and dusted in a matter of days rather than weeks. It was for that reason that I dragged my feet, drinking in the splendor of another day beginning.

A hard shove had me stumbling toward the tied-up horses. A hand landed between my shoulder blades, pressing me into the horse’s flank and filling my nostrils with an equine aroma. They twisted my arms behind my back and bound my wrists with thick rope. Only once they were satisfied that the knots were tight enough to prevent me from escaping did they pull me away from the horse.

Turning back around revealed Zephyr standing there, apparently having followed us out of the building. How many opportunities for revenge did the man need? Did he really need to witness me being thrown over a horse like a sack of potatoes and spirited away before the sun had even fully risen over the horizon? Apparently, he did. I could think of no other reason for him to stand and watch.

This time, it was me who refused to meet his gaze, resentment building in my chest. The authorities had only caught up with me because I’d been waiting for him. I’d gambled my future on him being willing to help and I’d lost. I’d known Zephyr’s reputation for being cruel, but I’d refused to believe it might extend to me. But it seemed eight years’ separation and the manner in which it had happened had done its job. Well, he’d be rid of me once and for all soon, and I hoped it made him happy.

Hands fastened beneath my armpits, ready to heave me onto the back of a chestnut-brown gelding that I assumed to be the old soldier’s mount.

“I’m afraid,” Zephyr said, his voice cutting through the morning gloom, “that I’ve decided I can’t let you take him.”

Hope became a soaring eagle in my chest.

The old soldier frowned. “And why’s that, then?”

Zephyr’s brow furrowed and he let out a sharp laugh. “That’s an excellent question, and one I’m not sure I can answer at this particular moment in time. But… that doesn’t change the fact that it is indeed the case. Maybe I have things I still need to say to him, and I can’t do that to a corpse.”

Not exactly a heartfelt declaration of affection, or even loyalty, but I’d take it if it got me out of this situation. It wasn’t like there were any other options open to me.

“Put him on the horse,” the old soldier said. “And let’s get out of here.”

The hands beneath my armpits tightened in anticipation of following the order. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I said.

The soldier on my right-hand side paused. “Why?”

I lifted my gaze to Zephyr’s, a warm thrill passing through me as he finally made eye contact, those gray eyes of his affecting me as strongly as they’d ever done. “Because he asked you nicely, and if you refuse to do as he says, he won’t be so nice.”

Laughter made its way around the group of soldiers, but it sounded a long way from natural. Some might even have said it was tinged with fear.

Zephyr’s hand lifted in a casual gesture, so casual that anyone who didn’t know him might have been fooled into thinking he intended nothing more than a wave. Until his fingertips unleashed red threads of magic.

“He’s got magic,” one soldier said, in a perfect example of stating the obvious.

“What sort of magic?” another asked. Clearly, not everyone had known who he was or what he was capable of.

“You’re about to find out,” I said as the red strands swirled around Zephyr’s head. The old soldier was the first to break from the frozen stillness that had stolen over the group as they gawped at Zephyr. “Get him on the horse,” he shouted over the noise of the wind that had picked up. “Quickly!”

Hail dropped from the sky at Zephyr’s command. Not normal-sized hailstones. Huge ones. Some as big as my head. They rained down, pelting the soldiers but missing me, for which I’d thank Zephyr later, assuming I got a chance to. The soldiers battled against the onslaught for as long as they could, but given their training would have centered on fighting armed opponents rather than the elements, it was understandable when they gave up, sinking to the ground and covering their heads with their hands as the hail continued to spare them no quarter. The horses displayed no such staying power, immediately bolting to safety.