The Mosque Hill Fortune (The Sons of Masguard, Book One)

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

"What was that?!" Lady Sira slammed her hands into the table. "You said they would be unprepared! Explain to me how an unprepared vessel manages to best three Kathkan warships!"

Her rage was so thick and so palpable it might have asphyxiated an ox, were one so unfortunate as to be present in the wardroom of the Havoc where she, Von Ulric, and the former commander Gray Calum stood, eyeing one another from opposing corners.

It was almost like they didn't trust one another.

"My intention was never to bring the Albatross down." Von Ulric shrugged in a slow, noncommittal gesture. "I had an objective. I obtained it."

Sira's glare shot to the former commander. "You mean him? You put my ship at risk for a single Secoran?!"

He smiled with condescending teeth at her seeming naiveté. "In taking this single Secoran we've removed the good captain's every advantage. The map, the medallion, even his ability to rely on the loyalties of his crew."

Her gaze did not move from the silent ringtail in the corner. She seemed to be willing him to look at her, to prove he could ever be worth the embarrassment of being so soundly bested, of being forced to run away. He did not return her stare. He did, however, seem remarkably well composed for one who reeked so of discomfort and shame.

"Never underestimate the power of betrayal," the Baron continued. "Nothing whittles strength quite so quickly as a loss of faith in those who are meant to support you. The captain will begin to doubt himself. I assure you, his failure will follow."

"His failure?" She looked back to him with a smile that was anything but humorous. "His? This captain, he calls creatures from lore to tear us to pieces, and you? What do you have? A rodent with a necklace!"

"I," Von Ulric said treacherously, leaning to meet her eyes over the table. "Have everything I need to find the scepter. Which was the entire point of our oh-so-quaint alliance, you may recall." A growl crept into his voice. "And while you're in a spot of reminiscence, you might do well to remember your place, little Kathkan. I'm not to be trifled with."

"Trifled?" She laughed, her face turning furious on the instant. "Who's trifling? I'm yelling!"

Just like that, Von Ulric was over the table, with her pinned to the wall beneath his claws, monstrous teeth parted in a grinning threat. For a moment, Calum was certain he meant to bite off her face.

"I don't have it," he blurted out, earning surprised glares from Kathkan and Baron alike. "I don't have the medallion."

Von Ulric dropped Sira to the floor. She gasped in relief and came to her feet as the wolf turned in Calum's direction, forgetting her entirely.

"Marshall must have grabbed it when I knocked him down," the ringtail tried to explain. "We were on the Havoc and gone before I even realized it was missing."

If Calum expected a violent response, he received none. Instead, the Baron stared at him with black eyes and deliberate breath. Then he lifted his hand to a blank scrap of parchment on the table.

"Draw," the wolf commanded.

Calum took a slow breath and swallowed before speaking.

"No," he said.

The Baron's tentative wall between patience and fury came crashing down. He leaned in and tipped his head to peer at Calum sidelong, seething in disbelief, "What?"

"I will not draw the entire map. Not now," Calum said. "I lost the medallion and I know you mean to kill me for it. You made that clear enough in Marshall's cabin. But you can't be done with me until you have the map. So you aren't getting it. Not all at once. I will write what I remember a bit at a time until I know I can safely leave this ship. Only then will you have what you need."