Page 41 of Forged in Cursed Flames (Crown and Crest 2)

As if he’s a sheepdog, he swiftly follows on my heels. “Commander, please!”

“Open the crate,” I command.

“You can’t just trespass on my ship and demand I show you my cargo!” the captain snarls, angry now. “I’ve got rights!”

“As do I. Caldenbauer shipping law states that all imports and exports are subject to periodic, and unwarranted, inspections.”

He stands straighter. “I’m aware of the laws, commander—I’m an upstanding man of the business!”

I gesture to the ship. “You’re actually going to claim you’re running legal?”

The captain hesitates. “Legal has so many definitions…”

“It really doesn’t,” Clover interrupts with bright eyes, enjoying this exchange more than a proper lady should.

“I’ll take you to Ferradelle,” the captain says immediately. “Four hundred cartos—a downright steal for passage to the High Vale territory.”

I conceal my smile, satisfied. “As long as there isn’t talvernum in these crates, you have a deal.”

The man barks out a laugh. “If I were transporting talvernum, do you think I’d still have this cruddy ship?”

“Open the crate, captain.”

He mutters to himself, practically wringing his hands as he looks for an iron bar to pry up the lid.

“Here’s one,” Bartholomew says helpfully, pulling the tool from underneath a pile of fraying rope and broken rubbish.

The captain scowls at the young man and takes the bar. The wood groans as the nails refuse to give. Finally, the top comes free, revealing a mat of dried packing moss. I push the material aside, shifting through the wine bottles it protects.

I pull one out, inspecting the painted vineyard name and year. “Stolen?”

The captain shakes his head, avoiding my eyes. “Bought and paid for.”

“Then why the fuss?” I demand.

“My contact simply prefers not to pay the transport tax, so...”

“So what?”

“I don’t haveallthe notarized paperwork.”

“Exactly what paperwork do you have?”

The captain rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t have any.”

Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. As expected, he’s a wretched pirate.

“How do you avoid the dock attendants?” I ask.

“I…have my ways.”

“Do you have ways in Ferradelle?”

Warily, he nods.

“Good.” I turn to Lawrence. “Give the man half the money now. He can have the rest upon our return.”

“Now wait a minute!” the captain argues. “You never said it was a round trip agreement—”

---