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'Hood's breath,' Kalam muttered. 'Just another ten minutes, that's all I needed.'

'Doublecross,' the captain whispered, his eyes squeezed shut.Advertisement

'We'd guessed as much,' the assassin said, continuing closing wounds. 'Now shut up and let me work.'

'Poor Pormqual's treasurer is crooked.'

'Like attracts like, as the saying goes.'

'You and that poncy skulker ... two of a kind.'

'Thanks. So I keep hearing.'

'Up to you two, now.'

'And the lieutenant.'

The captain managed a smile, his eyes still closed. 'Good.'

Kalam sat back, reached for the bandages. 'Almost done.'

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'Me too.'

'That bodyguard's dead, you'll be pleased to know.'

'Aye. Killed himself, the idiot. I ducked the first swing. The blade bit through the wrong ropes. Feel that, Kalam? We're rolling even – someone up top knows what we're doing, thank the gods. Still, way too heavy ... but she'll hold together.'

'Got enough rags for that, then.'

'That we have.'

'All right, I'm done,' Kalam said, rising. 'Get some sleep, Captain. We need you hale. And fast.'

'Not likely. That other bodyguard will finish it first chance he gets. The treasurer needs me out of the way.'

'We'll take care of it, Captain.'

'Just like that?'

'Just like that.'

Closing the door behind him, Kalam paused, loosened the long-knife in its scabbard. Just like that, Captain.

The squall was spent, and the sky to the east was brightening, clean and gold. Ragstopper had come around as the tradewind returned. The mess on the sterncastle had been cleared away and the crew looked to have things in hand, although Kalam could see their tension.

The treasurer and his remaining bodyguard stood near the mainmast, the former staring steadily at the raider keeping pace to starboard, close enough to see figures on its deck, watching them in turn. The bodyguard's attention, however, was on Salk Elan, lounging near the forecastle steps. None of the crew seemed willing to cut across the ten paces separating the two men.

Kalam made his way to the treasurer's side. 'You have taken command, then?'

The man nodded sharply, his diffidence obvious as he avoided the assassin's eye. 'I intend to buy our way clear—'

'Take your cut, you mean. And how much would that be? Eighty, ninety per cent? With you along as hostage, of course.' He watched the blood leave the man's face.

'This is not your concern,' the treasurer said.

'You're right. But killing the captain and his officers is, because it jeopardizes this voyage. If the crew doesn't know for certain, you can rest assured it suspects.'

'We have the marines to deal with that. Back away and you'll survive intact. Step in and you'll be cut down.'

'Kalam studied the raider. 'And what's their percentage? What's to stop them from slitting your throat and sailing off with the whole share?'

The treasurer smiled. 'I doubt my uncle and cousins would do that. Now, I suggest you go below – back to your cabin – and stay there.'

Ignoring that advice, Kalam went off to find the marines.

The engagement with the pirates had been fierce and short. Not only was the ship coming apart under them, but there was little fight left in the raider's panicked crew.

'More like a slaughter,' the lieutenant muttered as the assassin crouched down opposite her. The two squads sat in the forward hold, amidst streams of water running down the planks, busy stuffing rags into the breaches in the hull. 'We didn't even take a scratch.'

'What have you worked out thus far?' Kalam quietly asked.

She shrugged. 'As much as we need to, Corporal. What do you want us to do?'

'The treasurer will order you to stand down. The pirates will then relieve you of your weapons—'

'At which point they slit our throats and toss us overside – Imperial Writ or no, the man's committing treason.'

'Well, he's stealing from a thief, but I take your point.' Kalam rose. 'I'll talk with the crew and get back to you, Lieutenant.'

'Why don't we take down the treasurer and his bodyguard right now, Kalam?'

The assassin's eyes narrowed. 'Stick to the rules, Lieutenant. Leave murder to those whose souls are already stained.'

She bit her lip, studied him for a long time, then slowly nodded.

Kalam found the sailor he'd spoken with when the hold was being loaded at the Aren pier. The man was coiling ropes on the sterncastle with the air of someone needing to keep busy. pqdm.com