Red Seas Under Red Skies: The Gentleman Bastard Sequence, Book Two (Gentleman Bastards 2)

But now the sun was lowering in the west, casting a golden halo around the dark outlines of the battlements and towers above the Sword Marina, and the gentle harbour breeze had begun to chill Locke despite the lingering heat of the summer air.

He and Jean were rowing the dinghy toward the open gate to their private bay; Caldris had been happy to earn his twenty volani, but not happy enough that he was willing to trust them with the sails again.

‘’Vast rowing,’ said Caldris as they finally drifted near the edge of the stone plaza. Caldris tended to the business of tying them up again, while Locke stowed his oar and breathed a deep sigh of relief. Every muscle in his back slid painfully against those surrounding it, as though someone had thrown grit in between them. He had a headache from the glare of sun on water, and the old wound in his left shoulder was demanding attention above and beyond his other aches.

Locke and Jean clambered stiffly out of the boat and stretched while Caldris, clearly amused, uncovered the basket and plucked the bedraggled kitten out of it. ‘There, there,’ he said, allowing it to nestle within his crossed arms. ‘The young masters didn’t mean anything by that soaking they gave you. They got it just as bad.’

‘Mrrrrrrrrreeeeew,’ it said.

‘I fancy that means “fuck you”,’ said Caldris, ‘but at least we’ve got our lives. So what do you think, sirs? An educational day?’

‘I hope we’ve shown some aptitude, at least,’ groaned Locke, kneading a knot in the small of his back.

‘Baby steps, Kosta. As far as sailors go, you haven’t even learned to suck milk from a tit yet. But now you know starboard from larboard, and I’m twenty volani richer.’

‘Indeed,’ sighed Locke as he fetched his coat, vest, neck-cloths and shoes from the ground. He tossed a small leather purse to the sailing master, who dangled it in front of the kitten and cooed as though to a small child.

Locke happened to glance over at the gate while he was throwing his coat on over his damp tunic, and he saw Merrain’s gig slip into the artificial bay. She was seated at the bow again, looking as though they had parted ten minutes rather than ten hours before.

‘Your ride back to civilization, gents.’ Caldris raised Locke’s coin-purse in a salute. ‘See you bright and early tomorrow. Only gets worse from here, so mind yourselves. Enjoy those nice beds while they’re still available.’

Merrain was completely unwilling to answer questions as the team of ten soldiers rowed them back to the docks beneath the Savrola, which suited Locke’s mood. He and Jean commiserated over their aches and pains while lounging, as best the space allowed, in the rear gallery.

‘I could sleep for about three days, I think,’ said Locke.

‘Let’s order a big dinner when we get back, and some baths to take the knots out. After that, I’ll race you to unconsciousness.’

‘Can’t,’ Locke sighed. ‘Can’t. I have to go and see Requin tonight. By now, he probably knows Stragos pulled us in again a few nights ago. I need to talk to him before he gets annoyed. And I need to give him the chairs. And I need to somehow tell him about all of this, and convince him not to strangle us with our own intestines if we leave for a few months.’

‘Gods,’ said Jean. ‘I’ve been trying not to think about that. You just barely convinced him that we’ve been assigned to the Sinspire to go after his vault; what can you say that will make this whole out-to-sea thing plausible?’

‘I have no idea.’ Locke massaged the aching vicinity of his old shoulder wound. ‘Hopefully the chairs will put him in a forgiving mood. If not, you’ll get the bill for cleaning my brains off his plaza stones.’

When the rowers finally pulled the boat up alongside the Savrola docks, where a carriage was waiting with several guards, Merrain left the bow and made her way back to where Locke and Jean were sitting.

‘Seventh hour of the morning tomorrow,’ she said, ‘I’ll have a carriage at the Villa Candessa. We’ll vary your movement for a few mornings for safety’s sake. Stay at your inn this evening.’

‘Out of the question,’ said Locke. ‘I have business on the Golden Steps tonight.’

‘Cancel it.’

‘Go to hell. How do you propose to stop me?’

‘You might be surprised.’ Merrain rubbed her temples as though she felt a headache coming on, then sighed. ‘You’re sure you can’t cancel it?’

‘If I cancel my business tonight, you-know-who at the Sinspire is likely to cancel us,’ said Locke.

‘If you’re worried about Requin,’ she said, ‘I could simply arrange for quarters to be found in the Sword Marina. He’d never be able to reach you there; you’d be safe until your training was finished.’

‘Jerome and I have sunk two years in this bloody city into our plans for Requin,’ said Locke. ‘We intend to finish them. Tonight is critical.’

‘On your head be it, then. I can send a carriage with some of my men. Can it wait two hours?’

‘If that’s what it takes, fine.’ Locke smiled. ‘In fact, send two. One for me, one for cargo.’

‘Don’t push your—’

‘Excuse me,’ said Locke, ‘but is the money coming out of your pocket? You want to protect me, surround me with your agents, fine - I accept. Just send two carriages. I’ll be on my best behaviour.’

‘So be it,’ she said. ‘Two hours. No sooner.’