Page 13 of Among the Burning Flowers
‘You know?’
‘Of course I know. You flouted one of the Grief Laws,’ he said. ‘The heralds are still roaring your description in thenorth. It didn’t take us long to work out who the Venger of Vazuva was.’ He shook his head. ‘What sort of cocksure numbskull gives herself a name like that?’
She slouched into her seat. Even at her lowest point, she had never wanted to disappoint him.
‘The Comptroller of Perunta is one enemy to have,’ Harlowe said, ‘but the Secretary of State, quite another.’ A muscle feathered in his square jaw. ‘For the love of the Saint, stop slavering over that poor chicken and eat it. You’re making me uncomfortable.’
‘I’ve already eaten.’
‘A large mouthful of air, was it?’
Melaugo gritted her teeth. Harlowe pushed the trencher towards her, and at last, hunger overpowered her pride. She ripped into a chicken leg and wolfed a slice of hard white cheese.
‘Tell me about Perunta first,’ Harlowe said, watching her. ‘Then we’ll get on to the culling.’
‘You know about Perunta,’ she said through her mouthful.
‘In your own words, Estina.’
Melaugo swallowed painfully. She had to remember to chew.
‘The comptroller seized theWindstormand hanged the entire crew, along with the landing party. The cargo included valuable Eastern goods from Mentendon,’ she said. ‘Suylos was furious. He rallied every moon-curser and knave he knows to help break into the Customs House. Not only to recover the cargo, but to show King Sigoso who rules the coast.’
‘Suylos is a dependable ally when he blows cold,’ Harlowe said grimly, ‘but when he blows hot, he’s a beef-witted fool.’ His mouth thinned. ‘I should never have left you with him.’
‘No. I’m glad you did,’ Melaugo admitted. ‘I loved working for the Greenshanks. Lovers’ Cove felt like a home to me. Even when it was hard and bloody, it … felt like having a family again.’
Harlowe narrowed his eyes.
‘Well,’ he said. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’
Melaugo took a sip of pine milk. For all her smarting pride, she was glad to see Harlowe again. A person who knew her better than she knew herself, after so much torturous solitude.
‘Half of us kept the guards and preventers busy,’ she went on. ‘The rest meant to steal into the Customs House and run the plunder to the smuggling tunnels. Liyat was in the latter party.’
‘Liyat didn’t say she was involved.’ Harlowe frowned. ‘It isn’t like her to indulge Suylos in nonsense. Why risk being spotted with a band of rioting smugglers in Perunta?’
‘There were some Mentish relics in the shipment. She couldn’t let them be destroyed in the fray, so she agreed to help.’ Melaugo dropped her gaze. ‘The officers cornered her. Liyat will maim if she must, but she would never kill. Not even to save her own life.’
‘So you did it for her.’
She nodded, seeing it again. The utter chaos of the clash. The customs officers, with their swords and rifles, eager to destroy the smugglers that plagued their coast – and then Liyat in the grip of a city guard, hauled from the Customs House, bound for prison, where they would find her Pardic pendant, marking her as an unbeliever. She would be on a pyre in days.
And so Estina Melaugo had drawn her pistol and fired. She had only meant to wound the officer, but the bullet hadstruck his neck. The comptroller himself had seen, and the red hair had made her stand out like a jester. She had fled to the east, turned culler, turned outlaw.
And now she was a starveling in the wilderness.
‘She wasn’t seen,’ Melaugo said. ‘They didn’t have a chance to remove her mask.’
‘So she took you to Aperio to lie low,’ Harlowe said. ‘I’ll ask you again. Why start culling?’
‘Because I can’t do anything else, Harlowe,’ she snapped. ‘I squandered my apprenticeship. I have no useful skills.’ She tore the other leg off the chicken. ‘I did try to find work, but there was nothing that paid like culling. If you can secure a noble patron, it can change your destiny.’
‘There arenoblesgetting involved in this business?’
‘Only when the beasts hurt their interests. My old patron has a valuable mine on her land, but it was infested with lindworms. All that red gold, untouched for centuries.’
‘Red gold.’ Harlowe cocked his head. ‘Was your patron Princess Viterica, by any chance?’
