Red Seas Under Red Skies: The Gentleman Bastard Sequence, Book Two (Gentleman Bastards 2)
13
Jean dumped him on the quarterdeck, under the eyes of Zamira and all the surviving crew. It had been a long and arduous trip back - first to retrieve their backpacks from Cordo’s little boat, and then to dutifully retrieve Drakasha’s ship’s boat, and then to row nearly out to sea - but it had all been worth it. The entire night had been worth it, Locke decided, just to see the expression on Stragos’s face when he found Zamira standing over him.
‘Dr . . . r . . . akasha,’ he mumbled, then spat one of his teeth onto the deck. Blood ran in several streams down his chin.
‘Maxilan Stragos, former Archon of Tal Verrar,’ she said. ‘Final Archon of Tal Verrar. Last time I saw you my perspective was somewhat different.’
‘As was . . . mine.’ He sighed. ‘What now?’
‘There are too many debts riding on your carcass to buy them off with death,’ said Zamira. ‘We thought long and hard about this. We’ve decided that we’re going to try to keep you around for as long as we possibly can.’
She snapped her fingers and Jabril stepped forward, carrying a mass of sturdy, if slightly rusted, iron chains and cuffs in his arms. He dropped them on the deck next to Stragos and laughed as the old man jumped. The hands of other crewfolk seized him, and he began to sob in disbelief as his legs and arms were clamped, and as the chains were draped around him.
‘You’re going in the orlop, Stragos. You’re going into the dark. And we’re going to treat it as a special privilege to carry you around with us wherever we go. In any weather, in any sea, in any heat. We’re going to haul you a mighty long way. You and your irons. Long after your clothes fall off, I guarantee you’ll still have those to wear.’
‘Drakasha, please—’
‘Throw him as far down as we’ve got,’ she said, and half a dozen crewfolk began carrying him toward a main-deck hatch. ‘Chain him to the bulkhead. Then let him get cosy.’
‘Drakasha,’ he screamed, ‘you can’t! You can’t! I’ll go mad!’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘And you’ll scream. Gods, how you’ll wail down there. But that’s okay. We can always do with a bit of music at sea.’
Then he was carried below the Poison Orchid’s deck, to the rest of his life.
‘Well,’ said Drakasha, turning to Locke and Jean. ‘You two delivered. I’ll be damned, but you got what you wanted.’
‘No, Captain,’ said Jean. ‘We got what we went after, mostly. But we didn’t get what we wanted. Not by a long gods-damned shot.’
‘I’m sorry, Jerome,’ she said.
‘I hope nobody ever calls me that again,’ said Jean. ‘The name is Jean.’
‘Locke and Jean,’ she said. ‘All right, then. Can I take you two somewhere?’
‘Vel Virazzo, if you don’t mind,’ said Locke. ‘We’ve got some business to transact.’
‘And then you’ll be rich men?’
‘We’ll be in funds, yes. Do you want some, for your—’
‘No,’ she said. ‘You went into Tal Verrar and did the stealing. Keep it. We’ve got swag enough from Salon Corbeau, and so few ways to split it now. We’ll be fine. So what will you do after that?’
‘We had a plan,’ said Locke. ‘Remember what you told me at the rail that night? If someone tries to draw lines around your ship, just . . . set more sail?’
Drakasha nodded.
‘I suppose you could say we’re going to give it a try,’ said Locke.
‘Will you need anything else, then?’
‘Well,’ said Locke, ‘for safety’s sake, given our past history . . . perhaps you’d lend us a small sack and give us something small but rather important?’