These gowns were entirely Amalie’s own style, and had created a sensation at court when she had first displayed them. It was thought that the Queen disapproved, though Berlauda had been perfectly civil to Amalie when they’d spoken, so it was hard to say where this rumor of disapproval originated. As was the case with most court rumors, alas.
She brightened when I came in. I put my weapon aside, barred the door, and took Amalie in my arms.
“No ill effects?” she said. “No violence?”
“None. They got what they came for, and a little more besides.”
She rested her head on my shoulder. “I was worried. I was going to wait another hour, and then go to Roundsilver’s and say that I’d seen you marched away by an armed gang in Wenlock livery.”
I reached for the front of her gown and began to loosen the braided froggings from their silver buttons. “Your concern is commendable. I shall reward you directly.”
I opened her gown and took her in my arms, the sunny warmth of her flesh a welcome contrast to the chill, wet day. A low laugh came from Amalie’s throat.
“You are cold, sir. Let me remove those wet clothes, and put you in your warm bed.”
“A delightful prospect. You are a fine nurse.” My lips grazed the flesh of her naked shoulder, and she shivered.
Overhead, the sky rumbled, and promised another bout of rain.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I paid little attention to the royal ships, for I was looking for a private ship that could take me as a passenger to Ethlebight, or at least as near as Amberstone. I had no intention of riding home overland, not over any path that might take me again within range of Sir Basil, or for that matter Orlanda.
I had spoken to several captains and mates, and so far found no vessel bound for the southwest, but still as I walked along the wharfs, I found my spirits lifting. Walking through the port, I felt the pull of home, and delighted in the fresh breeze that carried the scent of the sea to mix with the odors of tar and salt marsh, and the rich perfume of the tide that foamed against the pilings and tugged at the ships until their hawsers stretched taut as bowstrings.
I walked around the sterncastle of a great high-charged galleon, and saw the smaller vessel moored behind. The sight of the yellow ochre strakes touched my memory, and then with a start I recognized the Meteor, the small galleon I had last seen in Amberstone. Meteor, which was owned whole or in part by Kevin Spellman’s family. Meteor, moored fast to the wharf and discharging tuns of wine.
I dodged around a stack of stiff, untanned hides just offloaded from a barge, and trotted up to Meteor’s gangplank. Tackles fixed to the mainyard creaked overhead as they took the strain of a cargo net filled with wine casks, and I blinked up at the sterncastle to see if I could identify the ship’s master. Instead, I saw Kevin, still wearing his tall stiff hat with the brim pinned up on the side. “Hoy!” I called. “Master Spellman!”
He looked in puzzlement, then surprise, then joy. I ran up the gangway as he bounded down the poop companion, and we met on the quarterdeck and embraced. We each burst out with questions, which neither of us answered because each kept blurting out questions without waiting for an answer. Finally, we paused for breath, and I got the first question in after the interval.
“Why are you here?”
Kevin gasped for breath and grinned. “It’s your fault. You sent me the letter telling me that Meteor was in, so I rode to Amberstone to see to the ship personally. The wine was to be delivered to Selford anyway, and I came along both to ensure payment and to see if I could manage a loan to build new ships.”
“The reivers are gone?”
“They made off a day or two after you left Amberstone.” His face darkened. “Left nearly three hundred corpses on Cow Island, folk they decided were worthless as slaves, and who wouldn’t fetch a ransom.”
I felt a shard of ice touch my heart. “Anyone we know?”
“I don’t have all the names, but one was Mrs. Vayne.”
A wave of sadness washed through me. “I bought three baskets of her pearmains the day before the attack.”
“And Master Crook.”
My sadness deepened. “He had no family. I suppose therefore we may keep his library.”
Kevin spread his hands helplessly. “It is a long tragedy, and we have seen only the first two acts. Even if we raise all the necessary ransoms, still our people will be in captivity for months, more likely years, and in all that time no one knows what horrors they will endure.”
We both paused to contemplate this grim and unenviable truth, and then Kevin looked at me. “What of the Embassy Royal? Have you managed to bring us aid?”
My laughter was bitter. “I am the Embassy now! And I have spoken to the Chancellor, and briefly to her majesty, and have managed to pry a few favors from the court—and indeed, brother”—putting a hand on his shoulder—“I have a set of commissions on which I must have your counsel, both for our profit and that of our city.”
His eyes grew puzzled. “You are the only ambassador? What has become of Gribbins and Utterback?”
“That is a long tale. But first, let me ask—have you received a letter asking ransom for me?”
“Ransom?” Kevin was taken aback. “Nay, I’ve received nothing like that.”
“It won’t have caught up with you, not if you left Ethlebight just after I was in Amberstone. The letter will be in my hand, but you may safely ignore it. And as for the tonsured swine who delivers it, you may knock him on the head with my compliments, or deliver him bound to the sheriff.”
His eyes widened. “I can see there is an adventure here.”
“I have writ you a letter about all that, and I wished to find a captain to deliver it, but then decided to find a captain who would deliver my self instead.” I took him by the arm. “Come, let us go ashore and find a tavern, and I will tell you what has become of the Embassy.”
Kevin gave a regretful shake of his head. “Nay, I have too much business today. I have to see mercers, bankers, warehousemen. . . .”
“I can come tomorrow morning.”
“I will be at the Mercers’ Lodge here in Innismore. Come early, and I will give you breakfast.”
“One final question, then. Will you be returning to Ethlebight from here?”
“Meteor draws too much water for Ethlebight. But if I can raise money and a cargo, we’ll sail for Amberstone, and from there I can ride to Ethlebight, or take a smaller craft.”
“Good. For I think you will want to make that journey as soon as you can.”
“Ay?” He looked as if he were about to throw another half dozen questions my way, and then he stopped himself, and shrugged. “Well, you will tell me tomorrow.”
“Yes. And buy a stock of good gunpowder, for it will come in handy.”
And there I left him to his business, puzzled yet eager for our next meeting.