I expected this trip to end no differently than his others. For all his talk, he’d never acquired a decent loot-most of his wealth came from plundering small merchant vessels, then bringing the silk or spices back to this cloudy seaside town to trade. Over our four years of friendship, Arn had rambled about so many treasures that I’d lost count. When my eagerness didn’t follow, Arn slumped against his chair, crossed his arms, and looked at me.

The treasure? He slapped the table, and my plate clattered. He’d never looked so disappointed in me as when I shook my head. They could probably hear him from the docks. He had some nerve to hush me after his grand entrance.

He removed his pistol belt and laid it on the table, then leaned forward and whispered, It’s old Barnacles.Īrn hushed me and motioned to lower my voice but nodded. Arn crossed his fingers and twirled them in the air as a promise. The old pirate is dead of his own accord. Arn, I’m not helping you hide the body this time. In the rare times Arn chose to get soused, trouble always followed-and when trouble came after him, it often brought difficulty to me. Had I not confessed yesterday how I longed for my friend’s ship to come into port? And now the Fates, who had been cruel this week, sent him the very next morning. Truly, there is no one like you across all the seas.įrom behind the bar, Bart and I exchanged glances. My closest friend and the fairest maiden in all the land. Though less than a meter away, his slurred voice paid no regard to volume as he spread out his arms and grinned. He bounded across the floor and pulled out the seat opposite from mine. With a strained smile I raised my hand in greeting. To reinforce his point, he raised an imaginary tankard, then scanned the heads of our few customers. His voice reached the dusty rafters above and settled over the tavern like a promise-a vow that today would be the start of something wonderful. As if he’d waltzed into a fancy establishment among fine nobles instead of a seaside tavern with the smell of fish and saltwater filling the stale morning air.Īs if he could read my thoughts, Arn threw his head back and bellowed, It’s a great day, indeed. He paused to shake a few hands and tip his head in greeting. Whosever death this was, Arn danced in the face of it. Further news of death was not welcome here. He practically sang as he declared loudly enough for the room to hear, He’s dead! Finally.įrom my seat in the back, I cursed.

Golden waves for the ocean he loved so dearly. He hadn’t bothered to lace the front strings of his shirt, showing the curls of his tattoo underneath.

The creaky door of the Banished Gentlemen tavern swung wide as a young man with a cutlass strapped to his side sauntered in with his fists raised in triumph.

Oathbound victoria mccombs