Page 66 of A Pirate's Pleasure

Eight years was a long time to catch up on, the first rays of light appearing over the horizon before we gave in to the pull of sleep. With Lief in my arms, I slept with a smile on my face.

Chapter Twenty-five

Lief

Between us, we’d manhandled Baravor onto a horse, the full bindings of arms and legs from the night before reduced to just tying his hands in front of him. He looked miserable enough that guilt bit into me once more. At least until I reminded myself how he’d ended Erolith’s life out of nothing but greed and a sense of entitlement.

“I should probably take him on my own,” Zeph said, as he heaved himself into the saddle behind his captive.

I mounted my horse before turning to frown at him. I’d donned my cloak again, the hood pulled up around my ears to hide my face in case anyone looked too closely. We wanted to reach the authorities before someone tipped them off about my presence in Silkdrift and they found us first. “How do you work that out?”

“If they don’t believe what we have to tell them, we’ll have delivered you right into their hands.”

“They will believe us,” I said. “It’s the truth. Why wouldn’t they believe the truth?”

Zeph’s laugh erred on the side of mockery. “Because life isn’t a fairy-tale, and sometimes things don’t work out the way you think they should.” There was something in his eyes that said he wasn’t just talking about taking Baravor to the authorities.

“You should let me go,” Baravor said. “We could all leave Silkdrift tonight. I could—”

Zeph pressed the palm of his hand flat against his back. “Unless you’d like to find out what effect lightning has on the human body, I’d stop talking before I lose patience.”

Baravor stopped talking.

“We go together,” I said, my gaze holding Zeph’s. “I’m tired of running. And you were the one last night who was so sure that all we needed was the real culprit.”

Baravor opened his mouth. “Imagine being kicked like a mule,” Zeph said in a low voice. “That’s apparently what it feels like. Unless I do it too hard and then your heart will just stop.” Baravor closed his mouth again.

Zeph nodded, and we spurred the horses into action. The authorities didn’t have offices in Silkdrift. For that, we’d need to travel to the neighboring village of Elderborough, a journey of at least an hour on horseback. We were quiet as we rode. It was difficult to find something we were willing to discuss in front of our audience. He stayed quiet as well. Either he was resigned to his fate and realized that no amount of begging and pleading would change our minds, or he didn’t want to test whether Zeph would make good on his threats.

The building that housed the authorities was small and nondescript, only a small sign announcing its purpose as being to keep law and order in the surrounding villages. Zeph and I half pushed, half pulled Baravor off the horse, all the color having drained from his face. Seeing his obvious fear had another wave of guilt coursing through my system. I couldn’t say that the prospect of going inside—despite my earlier protestations that I needed to be here—filled me full of joy, either. Lucky for me then that Zeph took charge, shoving Baravor in front of him, and leaving me to follow in their wake. I took a deep breath as we stepped through the doorway and said a quick prayer for everything to go our way.

A huge barrel-chested man immediately barred our way, his hair about as red as any I’d ever seen. He’d even give Newton a run for his money. “What do we have here, then?” he asked in a booming voice.

Zeph gave Baravor enough of a push to have him stumbling forward. “I have a criminal for you. The true perpetrator in a crime that someone else has been persecuted for.”

The man frowned. “Is that so? And what crime would that be, then?”

Figuring it was better coming from me and I couldn’t hide in the background forever, I lowered my hood and stepped forward. “Erolith Magran was murdered in my house, Cooper Hall. The murder weapon was my dagger, but I wasn’t the one who wielded it. This man was.” I pointed at Baravor. “He’s the illegitimate son my uncle refused to acknowledge, and as such, he felt he had a right to the house as his inheritance.” I didn’t add that he’d taken steps to get that inheritance much quicker. We’d get to that in time, but it was best to start off with the most relevant facts.

“Did you hear that, Reeve?” the man asked, his gaze lifting to somewhere over my shoulder.

Reeve? Who the fuck was Reeve?

“I heard it,” a familiar voice said, “and it’s an interesting tale.”

My heart had already sunk to somewhere deep within my gut even before I turned to find my worst suspicions confirmed: the old soldier from Glimmerfield standing in the doorway. The same soldier who’d arrested me, only to be foiled by Zephyr’s rescue attempt. Fuck! What were the chances? He wasn’t alone either as he stepped forward, two other familiar faces flanking him. Both were glaring absolute daggers at Zeph, presumably in not so fond remembrance of him having treated them to a starter of hail and then having finished it with a main course of lightning.

At least Reeve had his attention fixed on me, those craggy features of his giving nothing of his thoughts away. I couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Did it mean he didn’t bear grudges like the other soldiers? Or just that he was more adept at not letting them show?

The door closed behind them, leaving Zephyr and I trapped with no means of escape. Not without going through them, anyway. Heart pounding and mouth dry, I looked to Zeph, his lack of concern at the turn of events somewhat comforting.

Zeph turned Baravor to face the soldiers and gave him a little shake. “We found the real culprit for you. Don’t worry. No thanks are required for doing your job for you.”

Reeve’s gaze trailed slowly over Baravor, starting at his head and then working his way down to his toes, scrutinizing, sizing him up, presumably running things through in his head. His stare when he turned it back on Zephyr and me was calculating. “We’ll need to speak to all three of you individually. You’ll all get a chance to tell your side of the story.”

I shook my head. “No way. Zeph and I stay together.”

Reeve crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging. “That’s not how it works, Mr. Cooper, I’m afraid.” The refusal to call me lord was clear. Guilty until proven innocent.