The Runaway King (The Ascendance Series, Book 2)

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.

“Pull all you want. You wouldn’t be the first to try escaping.” The man stood as if someone had caught his attention and went up the steps. I couldn’t hear the conversation at first, until he said something about us being fine as we were.

Then a female voice said, “Agor wants them treated like guests. I’ve got some water here to refresh them.”

At the first word, my heart had stopped cold in my chest, for it was a voice that I knew as well as my own. But only seconds later, before I could even begin to grasp what it might mean, Imogen walked down the stairs.

She avoided my eyes, but clearly wasn’t surprised to see me. True, several people knew the pirates and I had unfinished business, but it was also supposed to be true that a person couldn’t just find the pirates. They had to let the pirates find them. How was she here?

“Will you keep an eye on these two while I’m at the outhouse?” our vigil asked. “They shouldn’t be any trouble.”

“Of course.” As the man ran up the stairs, Imogen turned to us. “Agor doesn’t want you mistreated. So how are you?”

The question was so simple I almost couldn’t comprehend it. All I could do was stare at her with my mouth hung open. Imogen’s servant braid had returned, as had her far more humble clothes, a muslin chemise with a brown overdress that laced up the front. Back at the castle she’d said she would leave as she came, but I’d had no idea then how literally she’d meant it.

“We’re fine,” Fink said.

I caught Imogen’s eye, but only for a moment before she looked away. Had she volunteered to bring us the food so that I would know she was here, or had she come reluctantly, and only on orders?

“The pirates rarely get visitors,” she said. “So we were all surprised when you rode in.”

Fink pointed to me. “He has something for them.”

“Ah. And what could a ragged boy like him have that’s worth offering Avenian pirates?”

Fink looked at me, unsure of whether he should answer her. I was too consumed with questions about Imogen to care if he did or not. She had been in my court only five days ago. To be here now, she must have come directly to Tarblade, and yet I couldn’t believe she had any prior connection to the pirates. There were very few people in this world whom I trusted completely. Imogen was one of them.

She smiled at Fink. “Is your friend a mute, or is he just pretending that he can’t speak? What’s his name?”

“Oh, he can speak plenty, though most of it’s not very nice. His name is Sage.”

Imogen’s cheery expression deflated when she looked at me. “Really? Something so familiar?” A frown formed as she dropped the pretense of being a stranger to me. “That can’t be your name.”

Fink looked from Imogen over to me, and back to her again. Clearly confused, he asked, “Do you know each other?”

Recovering, Imogen shook her head, dismissing our friendship as coldly as I had rejected her back at the castle. “I once knew someone who looks like him. But no, I don’t know this boy at all.”

“I demand to know what’s happening,” I finally said, sounding as angry and confused as I felt.

“Your friend has a harsh tone to his voice,” Imogen said to Fink. “Does he always talk that way?”

“Yes,” he said. “I warned you.”

“Then tell him he’s in no position to demand anything from me,” she said.

Fink looked over as if to tell me that, then saw my hands already in fists and wisely decided against it. Obviously, she was still upset for how I’d sent her away. But if this was her idea of revenge, it made no sense. Why was she here?

Fink said, “I didn’t think they let girls become pirates.”

“I’m only hired help,” Imogen said. “We work in the kitchen mostly and serve the food.” Then she looked back at me. “But I hope my time here is very short.”

It would be. I’d make sure of that.

“Can you explain why your friend keeps staring at me?” she asked Fink. “Does he know how rude that is? How obvious it is?”

Fink giggled. “Maybe he likes you.”

“Maybe I think this is no place for you,” I said.

“As if a boy like you would ever care about me.” She dipped a ladle into a bucket of water and held it out for Fink, who eagerly drank. Then she put the ladle back in the bucket and moved to leave.

“None for me?” I asked.

She frowned. “Not until I can see some humility in you. From now on, you’ll speak politely to me, like a true friend, or not speak at all.” And as our vigil returned to his post, she whisked herself upstairs.

There was a brief silence before Fink said, “Wow, she really hates you.”

I ignored him and instead used a small stool in the room to prop myself up high enough to see out the window again.

“What do you see?” Fink asked.

“Stop talking and let me think!”

“This is why people don’t like you,” Fink said. “You’re lucky I’m more patient.”

There she was, crossing away from the prison. She paused as if she could feel me watching her, then stopped and turned around. She marched to the bars and held the water bucket by the handle and base, then without warning splashed it all in my face.

“Stop staring at me, filthy thief,” she said.

I fell backward off the stool, with the top half of my body soaked. Both Fink and the vigil launched into fits of laughter.

“Never seen the flower girl so upset,” the vigil said.

I wiped my hair off my face. “Flower girl?”

“She’s only been here a day or two, but so far she has spent every free moment collecting flowers in the woods and replanting them around the camp. Says they beautify the place, but I think just having her here does that. Don’t you?”

Rather than answer, I considered reaching through the bars to choke him. She was nearly half his age.

“Devlin wouldn’t let her plant them at first, but then he decided why not?”

I knew why not. Because she had no business being here.

“That’s the most I’ve heard her say yet,” the vigil continued. “Something about you really offends her.”

“Yep, she definitely hates you,” Fink agreed.

I shook my head to get rid of the dripping water, but a small flash of metal nearby caught my attention. Imogen hadn’t only thrown water at me. She had hidden something in the bucket, a hairpin. I palmed it and let it fall into my boot. It probably wouldn’t be too much longer before the pirates released me, but if they didn’t, Imogen had given me a way through the locked doors.

Maybe she didn’t hate me so much after all.