The Scrolls of the Ancients

CHAPTER

Forty-five

S itting next to the sailmaker, with the deafening, palpable tension of the Wing and Claw raining down around him, Tristan felt his heart racing. Horrified, he helplessly watched the man he assumed to be Rolf pull even harder on Tyranny's hair in an effort to force the prince to reveal himself. Even though she refused to cry out, Tristan could see that she was in desperate pain, and there was nothing that Scars could do to help her. If the three of them were to somehow survive this, it would be completely up to Tristan.

Tyranny's former lover was everything Tyranny and Scars had said he would be. He was tall, hard-muscled, and somewhat older than the prince-perhaps thirty-five Seasons of New Life. Sandy blond hair fell haphazardly down around his face and shoulders. Part of it was woven into two narrow, tight braids that hung alongside the left jaw, their ends capped with small onyx ornaments. His dark blue eyes were hard and unforgiving. He wore a bright red, sleeveless shirt; tight-fitting tan breeches; black knee boots; and a bright red sash around his waist. Numerous tattoos and scars could be seen on his chest and his chiseled arms. At his left hip he wore a saber; an empty dagger sheath was at his right, tied down to his thigh.

"Come forward now!" Rolf screamed again, yanking Tyranny's face a bit higher. Tristan saw Tyranny wince, then close her eyes against the pain.

Remembering the piece of ancient vellum still hidden in his boot, an idea came to Tristan.

He stood up, roughly pushing his chair out of the way. The chair legs screeched loudly on the floor.

Everyone turned to look at the tall, dark-haired man with the strange weapons lying across his back. His eyes never leaving Rolf, Tristan slowly replaced his throwing knife into its quiver, opened his hands to show they were empty, and started across the floor. As he did, many in the crowd smiled greedily. They were sure someone was about to die, and their money was on Rolf.

Coming to stand before the pirate, Tristan looked hard into his eyes. "Let her go," he said. "She's with me now."

Looking Tristan up and down, Rolf let go a derisive laugh. "My men in the street said ya wore a black vest and carried childish lookin' weapons, but they forgot to mention how ugly y'are," he said. Tristan immediately recognized his accent as coming from the Eutracian highlands, just north of Ilendium.

"They also told me that they saw Tyranny kissin' ya in the street," Rolf went on. "So who are ya, then? I would surely like to know, before I order the men in this room to tear y'apart. Then the lass and I would like to be alone." Rolf smiled wickedly. "It seems she and I have some catchin' up to do."

Steeling himself, Tristan decided to take his gamble. He put a snide look on his face, then pointed down at Tyranny. "This bitch and that idiot giant of hers are my partners now, and I want them back."

Tristan held his breath, praying that neither Tyranny nor Scars would say anything. They remained silent.

"What's that ya say?" Rolf demanded, screwing his face up. "And just how did all this come about?"

"The same way everything does," Tristan said calmly, playing up to the pirate's greed. He took another step forward. "I promised to pay for her knowledge, and her ships. She and the giant work for me now."

"Oh, they work for ya, is it?" Rolf asked sarcastically. "Just why should I believe all of this rubbish-not that it matters? And out of idle curiosity, just how much did ya supposedly promise to pay, eh? It would take a fine price indeed for Tyranny to give up her ships, even if she did steal them from someone else!" Smiling, he looked down at her pain-stricken face. "Isn't that right, lass?" he asked her nastily. Then he turned his dark blue eyes back up to the prince.

Tristan smiled at him. "I paid one hundred thousand kisa," he answered calmly.

The moment the words left his mouth, he heard a hush come over the crowd. "If you don't believe me, just ask her for the promissory note I signed," he added. "She always keeps it hidden between her breasts." Holding his breath, he hoped against hope that is was still there.

Rolf looked narrowly at the prince, then finally let go of Tyranny's hair. Bending over, he grabbed her under one arm and roughly pulled her to her feet. "Is this true?" he demanded.

Confused, uncertain what Tristan was doing, she reached into her jacket and pulled out the note the two of them had signed that day in her cabin. She handed it over to Rolf.

Upon reading it, the color drained from Rolf's face for a moment. Clearly, he was intrigued. But his knife remained steadily at Tyranny's throat. "And just why would a man of your means want to be out there on the ocean, eh?" he asked. "Or in a place the likes of Sanctuary?"

"The answer is simple," Tristan said. "She and I have each lost a brother to the demonslavers. We want to find them. She had the ships, and I had the money. Even you ought to be able to understand that, you dumb bastard."

A slight chuckle came from the crowd. Few had ever insulted Rolf that way and lived to tell about it.

Smiling greedily, Tristan let the insult stand, hoping that he hadn't just succeeded in getting the three of them killed. A tense silence held court for several moments.

Rolf turned back to Tyranny. "And just where is this money now?" he asked.

So far, the greedy pirate was doing exactly as Tristan had hoped he would. "I'm the only one who knows," Tristan said quickly, before Tyranny could speak. "It's hidden, buried on the coast of Eutracia. Tyranny has seen it-that was necessary, to prove that I actually had it. But before I paid her I wanted a first voyage, to see what she could do against the slavers. That's why I signed the note. Before we set sail I moved the money, making sure I was the only one who knew the location. But soon after entering these waters we were attacked by screechlings, and we had to dock here for fresh spars and sail. Do you really think we would be here in this dirty hole unless we needed to be?"

Rolf looked narrowly at the prince, then cast his eyes down at the note.

This twenty-second day of the Season of New Life, I promise to pay Teresa of the House of Welborne one hundred thousand kisa upon the successful completion of this voyage.

At the bottom of the page lay two signatures. One belonged to Tyranny, and the other was the false name Tristan had signed that day in her cabin, when they had struck their original bargain. His knife still at Tyranny's throat, Rolf looked back up at the prince.

"Assuming what you say is true, what's to stop me from simply torturing the location out of you?" Rolf demanded.

"You could, but how would you know I was telling you the truth?" Tristan countered. "As I said, I'm the only one who knows. And after you sailed me to the coast to prove it, I could lead you all over looking for it. Perhaps even escape in the process. Kill me, and you'll never know. Torture me, and you can't be sure. That's no way to find it, now is it?" He paused for a moment, allowing the pirate's greed and curiosity to build.

"But given my situation, I'm agreeable to letting you have the money, in return for my spars and sails, safe passage away from Sanctuary, and my ships and crews," he offered gamely. Then he looked over at Tyranny. He knew that what he was about to say would hurt her, but if this was going to work, it had to be done.

"I'll even sweeten the deal by letting you keep the girl," he added. "The longer I'm around her, the less she appeals to me, anyway. Someone should tell her that she dresses too much like a man. But I find the giant useful. Give him back to me, and I'll be gone. Agree to my terms, and you win in every way. I'm gone from here, and the money and the woman are both yours."

Believing she had been betrayed, Tyranny's eyes became hard with hate. Then Scars spoke up.

"You liar!" he snarled, pulling frantically at his bonds. "From the first moment I saw you, I knew you couldn't be trusted! The first chance I get, I'll kill you!"

Good, Tristan thought. Even Scars believed him.

"Assuming I agree, just what proof do I have that the location you give me is real?" Rolf asked skeptically.

Tristan's heart leapt. The moment he had been waiting for had finally come. Taking a breath, he tried to calm himself, then took another step closer.

"I have a map," he said. "I drew it for myself, right after I buried the moneybags on the coast. One key to the location is on the map, and the other key is in my head. Neither part is any good without the other. Your proof will be that what I whisper to you will connect up what is drawn on the map."

With Tristan's mention of a map, Rolf's eyes lit up with greed. Even the crowd seemed mesmerized by the stranger's tale, and they inched eagerly closer.

"And after you tell me, what makes you so sure I'll live up to my end of the bargain?" Rolf asked skeptically.

Tristan put a look of concern on his face. "Look around the room," he said. "I don't have many friends here, and I want to live. What other choice do I have?"

Rolf smiled. "None," he answered. "None at all." He greedily looked at Tyranny, relishing the things he would do to her body after this foolish rich man standing before him had told him all of his secrets. He would then happily kill him, just to watch him die.

"Very well," Rolf answered. "I agree. Where is the map?"

Tristan shook his head. "First I tell you." He beckoned the pirate closer. Rolf finally lowered his knife.

Tristan came closer and said a few words that Tyranny couldn't hear. Rolf nodded, then smiled.

"And now the map," Rolf demanded.

Tristan reached into his right boot. The parchment was wrapped around the handle of the brain hook, just as he had left it. Losing it to Rolf was a terrible risk, but he had no other choice.

With a single, sure stroke he pulled them both out and slammed the pearl handle of the stiletto into Rolf's jaw, rendering him unconscious. Rolf's knife went clattering to the floor.

In a flash Tristan was behind the pirate, holding him upright, his blade at Rolf's throat. Several of the other pirates from the crowd had already come to their feet, weapons drawn.

There was no time to lose, Tristan knew. What he said and did in the next few moments would surely determine whether he, Tyranny, and Scars lived or died.

"Stay where you are or I'll cut his throat!" he shouted, praying that none of them would come any closer.

"Why should we care?" one of the ones in front shouted back. Several of them inched forward menacingly.

"Because I am willing to cut you all in on the money!" Tristan shouted. Smiling, he looked out into the crowd. "Even the whores! Tell me, do you think Rolf would ever have done that? And Rolf now carries part of the location inside his head. If you try to kill me and I kill him before you do, you'll still have only half of what you need to find the money! He is worth far more to you alive than dead! Now back off!"

Greed won out, and some of the men lowered their weapons slightly.

Tristan looked at the two men still holding their sabers to Scars' back. "Let him go, or Rolf dies. Do it now!"

After looking skeptically at each other, they cut Scars' bonds. But what happened next surprised even Tristan.

Scars whirled on the first of them, pulled the saber from his hands, and then lifted him over his head to send him crashing down on top of the other one.

Tyranny wasted no time either. Grabbing up one of the discarded sabers, she was at the prince's side in a flash.

"Now what, rich man?" the pirate in front shouted at him. It was clear they were nearing the end of their patience.

"You let the three of us go, and as a precaution against your doing anything stupid, Rolf comes with us," Tristan ordered. "I will give you the map tomorrow at dawn, after you deliver my spars and sails to me. Don't worry-our ships are in no condition to sail very far without what we need. If they had been, we would never have come here."

Finding the swindling sailmaker in the crowd, Tristan nodded at him. "Ichabod the sailmaker knows where we are moored," he shouted. "After what we need has been delivered and we have been given time to make our repairs, we are also to be given at least a half-day's start. If we are followed, Rolf dies, and your dreams of wealth die with him. If we are not followed, I will set Rolf adrift in a small skiff along with the map, and then you shall have both parts of the location and can do whatever you want with him-even kill him, for all I care. All the more for you. But mark my words-if you try to double-cross us or take us prisoner, not only will I kill Rolf myself, but I will also destroy the map. At that point, I would have nothing more to lose, and you will have lost the chance of a lifetime."

Pausing, Tristan looked hard into the crowd before speaking again. "Take it or leave it," he said with finality.

Greedy and confused, the pirates started shouting angrily among themselves. Tristan waited and watched, desperately hoping his gamble would pay off.

"I says we take him up on his offer!" a woman shouted, her voice rising above the din. She had climbed up on one of the tables and was gesturing wildly with her arms. Looking closer, Tristan saw that she was the whore who had propositioned him at the bar.

"What have we got to lose except for these three?" she went on. "And we might just make a bloomin' fortune! That sounds like a good bargain where I come from! I say we let them go, and see what happens!"

Tristan smiled and shook his head slightly. It seemed the whore had done him some good, after all.

But at the same time he realized that they needed to take quick advantage of the crowd's hesitancy if they were ever going to get out in one piece; there were flaws in his story, and allowing the pirates time to think things through was certainly not to his advantage.

Looking over at Scars, Tristan nodded toward the door, and Scars nodded back. Reaching down as best he could, Tristan stuffed the brain hook and vellum back into his boot and began dragging Rolf out by his heels. The dangerous, unsure crowd inched forward a bit more, but no one made a move to stop him.

Once through the door, Scars came quickly to Tristan's side and relieved him of Rolf. As though Rolf weighed nothing, the giant tossed him over the front of the saddle of one of the horses tied outside the inn, then freed the reins and mounted. Tyranny and Tristan untied two other horses, jumped into the saddles, and wheeled them around. As they charged away, Tristan looked over at Tyranny, and she smiled at him. Warily turning to look behind him, Tristan finally smiled, as well.

For the moment, no one was following.