“Really, Alissa,” Cira said in a tone near boredom. “Taking Diva from me hurt me more than anything you can do with him.”
Alissa laughed, tossing her head to flip her gold hair out of her eyes, and slunk up, catlike, until she sat astride Jerin. “She was a delightful little bitch. You had her trained well. Tell me,” she said as she ran her finger over Jerin’s painted lips, “is he as talented with his mouth?”
“Why would you think I would know?” Cira drawled. “You know my tastes. You’ve eaten my leftovers.”
Alissa glared at Cira. eyes narrowing, Jerin all but forgotten below her. “If you are so disinterested, why are you riding herd on him?”
“What better bait for wolves than the sacrificial lamb?”
Alissa made a sound of disgust and climbed off of Jerin. “Leave you to take the fun out of it. Meza, gag the bitch.” She handcuffed Jerin firmly to the headboard. “You’ll have first watch, Meza.”
Meza gagged Cira tightly, settled at the paper-strewn desk, and reached for a pen. “Good, I can get caught up with these invoices.”
I made the right decision. I made the right decision.
Ren clung to the mantra, though as the sun moved across the sky, she sank into utter misery. Runners bringing her updates from her sisters did nothing to shake the soundness of her decision, or give hope that Jerin would be restored to them. The ever-so-polite raid on the Herald ferreted out the Porter mole and a wealth of information. Recent deliveries of cooking goods to the barracks turned up enough poison to lay waste to the Fifth Battalion. Incensed by their close call, the troops marched the street, arresting all loiterers, turning up scores of heavily armed river trash.
The Red Dog steamed into port, low and sleek as a hunter, the late afternoon sun glinting off the crimson- painted wood shields enclosing her decks. As women and supplies were loaded at frantic speed. Raven reported that orders had been sent downriver as far as the mouth for the Red Dog’s sister ships to join in the hunt.
Wait, was Raven’s unvoiced appeal.
Ren shook her head. All afternoon, the image of raped, mutilated, and murdered Egan Wainwright seared through her memory. Gods have mercy, her sweet beautiful Jerin was in the hands of women that had done that to a man! If the Porters meant to marry Jerin for his royal bloodline, then he would be spared that fate. But what if she had been wrong about the Porters? What if they had taken Jerin as disposable bait?
She wouldn’t delay any longer. She signaled that they were to steam out immediately. “What armaments do we have?”
The corner of Raven’s mouth dipped in worried disapproval. “The Red Dog is only lightly armed. Two eight- inch guns, one forward, the other aft, behind iron shutters. True, their twenty-pound balls will put a hole in just about anything, but you’ve got to be pointed in the right direction first. The bow is reinforced as a ram. And we’ve got the marines-a hundred rifles is nothing to sneer at.”
“Hopefully more than what Kij has.”
“One hopes.”
Chapter 15
Jerin never considered he’d fall asleep, not with the stress and fear of his situation. If he had thought it possible, he would have guarded against it. The day’s rigors, however, combined with the warm, soft bed. put him fully asleep before he realized the danger.
He woke to Kij’s voice, coming from across the room, asking softly, ‘“Is he still sleeping?”
“Like a babe,” Meza whispered in reply. There was a rustle of paper. “Sign here, and here.”
“We’re through the last lock. We’re going ashore here. See that he gets well cared for-something to eat, a chance to relieve himself. You’ll reach home within a few hours. Install him in the husband quarters-quietly. No one but family is to see him. We’ll have to handle this carefully for it to work.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Meza asked.
“The last fifty years have proved us cleverer than all. We’ll weasel out and land on our feet. Have we not time and time again?”
“We’ve never pushed our luck this close before.”
“This will work. It goes faster than I planned, but a nudge here, a nudge there, and everything will fall right. Trust me. Meza.”
There was a slight, tired sound from Meza. “I do. Please, be careful. I’d rather not have Alissa as Eldest.”
With a laugh, Kij said her good-bye and went out the door. Jerin lay with his eyes closed and forced his breathing to stay deep.
The duchy of Avonar lay upriver of Hera’s Step. Kij said they were through the last lock, so they were now above the great waterfall. He recalled the small town that supplied boats with coal, food, and entertainment while they waited their turn to move through the locks. The town was crowded with ship crews and passengers, people he could hide among and perhaps find aid from. While there were towns north of the falls, he would be a lone stranger in a place loyal to the Porters.
Now was the ideal time to escape. If he was to free himself, though, he needed to get rid of Meza.
Considering Kij’s orders, asking for food and water might force Meza to fetch it herself. If not, she’d at least undo his hands so he could eat.
He stirred then, making a show of waking and stretching, blinking with sleep befuddlement. Did Meza believe his act? She glanced up from her paperwork, fingers ink-stained, looking more an accountant than a murderous smuggler. Cira, on the other hand, glancing over the rim of the footboard, had murder in her eyes. Was that look of anger for him, for falling asleep, or just anger at the situation?
Trying to ignore the hate on Cira’s face, he whined, “I’m hungry, and thirsty, and I have to wee-wee.”
“I’m not surprised,” Meza said, methodically cleaning her pens and putting the desk aright before standing. “You’ve been asleep for hours.”
He felt a flare of guilt at her words. He should have tried to escape hours ago, gotten free and back to his wives. Every minute he spent away from them, the less likely he could ever return to them.
Meza came and unshackled his wrists. Holding firmly to his elbow, she steered him to the corner where there was a chamber pot built into a dresser to make an indoor privy. She kept hold of him while he relieved himself. though she averted her eyes. He chanced much, moving his stash pouch from his pocket to his loosely gathered sleeve.
Afterward, Meza led him back and handcuffed him to the bed again. “I’ll go get you something to eat.”
Even as she shut the door behind her, he slipped the pouch out, fingered through it, and pulled the lockpick free. From the foot of the bed, Cira’s eyes went large.
Minutes later, when he undid her gag, she whispered fiercely, “You have to be the slipperiest prince consort in history! I saw them take that from you. How did you get it back?”
“I picked Meza’s pocket,” he whispered, tempted to gag her again. “I wanted to be free of them before they decided that they wanted to be serviced.”
“What about your word of honor?”
“I lied.” Jerin struggled with her handcuff. “You meet people at their level, or the liars and murderers of this world will drag you under.”
Cira smothered a laugh. “I can’t believe you! Did Queen Mother Elder really agree for you to marry her daughters?”
“I don’t see how being raped would be preferable to lying.”
The cuffs came undone and she rose, rubbing her wrists.
“What should we do now?” he started to ask, but she caught him and kissed him. Her mouth was warm and sweet, and he realized that he was half in love with her.
“Why did you do that?” To his shame, he wanted to do it again.
“You’re teaching me never to give up.”
He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing. He pulled himself free, needing to put distance between them before
