Corsair

days in chains in some far foreign land.”

Geran shook his head. “I’d have found you.”

“Why, Geran? That’s the question that’s been foxing me for days now.” She looked into his face. “What am I to you that you’d sail to the moon to save me?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted before he even knew what he was saying. “I mean, you and Selsha are dear to me. I had to come after the two of you, to make sure that you were safe and home.” He searched for words for a moment before going on. “I’ve made mistakes in my time. Everyone has, I suppose. I can’t go back and choose differently, but looking after you-and Selsha-makes me feel that there are things I can set right again. There’s a darkness in my heart. Seeing the two of you safe and well lightens it.”

Mirya didn’t answer for a long time. Then she sighed. “I’m no penance of yours, Geran Hulmaster.”

“No, it’s not that. If you were-I mean, if that’s the way I saw you-I’d resent the time I spend with you. But I don’t, Mirya.” He looked down at her and tried to find a smile. “Little by little, I think you’re healing me of hurts I didn’t know I had. That’s why I had to come after you.”

“In all the years I’ve known you, that’s the first time I think you’ve ever allowed me a glimpse of what’s truly in your heart.” She frowned and pulled back, looking away from him. “There’s nothing special about me, you know. I’ve darkness of my own, and some days it’s near to drowning me. I don’t know what power I have to heal anyone.”

He didn’t know what more to say, and so he returned his attention to the town. The familiar wharves of Hulburg drew closer, full of cart traffic and passersby on foot who were now stopping and looking seaward to see what ship was coming to call. The battered hulks of Seawolf and Daring rested on the bottom by the dockside in the center of the town, their masts and tangled rigging jutting crookedly up out of the water. “Take in all sails! Run out the oars!” called Worthel from the quarterdeck. Geran missed the gruff skill of Andurth Galehand, but Worthel was a competent shiphandler too, and he served as Seadrake’s sailing master as well as her first mate. Many of Seadrake’s sailors had more than one job to do on the voyage back from pirate’s hidden keep. They were sorely shorthanded after the fierce fighting in the Tears of Selune, having borne the brunt of the battle in Sergen’s bold attempt to steal Seadrake out from under their noses, and so the Shieldsworn and sellswords went to the oars to lend a hand with the rowing.

“Look! The soldiers are lining up to welcome us!” Selsha Erstenwold, standing a short distance from Mirya and Geran, pointed over the rail and jumped in excitement. “And look at all the people!”

Geran followed her gaze. Several companies of armsmen in the colors of several different merchant companies had appeared by the wharves and were taking up station. “I suppose they caught wind of our victory in the Sea of Night,” he said, thinking aloud. “But how they could have heard the news, I have no idea.”

“A divination or sending, perhaps?” Sarth came to join Geran and Mirya by the rail, with Hamil close behind him. The tiefling frowned, puzzling at the question. “No, not a sending. Who was left behind in the keep to work such a spell, and why would they have done it? It must have been a divination of some sort. A merchant House wizard scried our return.”

“Then where are the Shieldsworn?” Hamil asked in a low voice. “Where are Harmach Grigor and Kara?” He frowned. No, I don’t like the looks of this, Geran. Be careful!

Seadrake shipped her oars and glided alongside the pier; sailors threw out the ship’s mooring lines and brought the caravel to a halt, riding gently at the dock. As soon as the sailors laid the gangway in place, a detachment of armsmen wearing the red and yellow surcoats of House Marstel quickly boarded and made their way directly to Geran. Their captain was a short, broad-shouldered Damaran with a sandy goatee and eyes the color of steel. “Geran Hulmaster?” he asked. “You are summoned before the harmach. Come with us peaceably, or we will subdue you by whatever means are necessary.”

“Who are you?” Mirya demanded. “And since when does the harmach send a Marstel man to carry his messages?”

“Since Maroth Marstel became harmach,” the captain answered. “I am Edelmark, Captain of the Hulburg Guard. Now, if you please, Harmach Maroth is waiting.”

Geran stared at the man, so stunned that he could not speak for a long moment. Harmach Maroth-Maroth Marstel? His uncle, Grigor, was no longer ruler of Hulburg? He’d only been gone from the city a little more than a tenday! Finally he found his voice again. “What happened? Where is Harmach Grigor? Where is Kara Hulmaster?”

“All the Hulmasters have fled,” Captain Edelmark answered flatly. “Lord Marstel is now harmach of Hulburg, and he wants you brought to Griffonwatch without delay. I grow tired of repeating myself.”

“Are you arresting Geran?” Hamil asked. His hands rested lightly on the hilts of the daggers at his belt.

“I will do whatever I have to in order to carry out my lord’s instructions,” the officer said. “I’d take my hands off those daggers, if I were you, little man. There are two hundred armsmen on the pier behind me.”

“There are fifty here on this ship,” said Worthel. The Red Sail first mate stood nearby with his arms folded across his chest. “Geran goes nowhere he doesn’t care to, Captain.”

Geran held up his hand. The last thing he wanted to see was a battle at Seadrake’s slip. Many good men would be killed, and Hulburg had already lost enough. “You may escort me to Marstel, Captain,” he said. His voice seemed steadier than he felt. “But no one else aboard this ship is to be troubled. They’ve fought and bled for Hulburg in strange, far places, and they deserve a hero’s welcome.”

“My orders only concern you,” Edelmark said. He motioned for Geran to precede him.

Sarth looked at the armsmen gathered on the pier and then back to Geran. The tiefling narrowed his eyes. “I will come too,” he said. “Anyone who thinks to lay hands on Geran will have me to reckon with.”

“And I,” said Hamil. He shot the captain a hard look and very plainly left one hand resting on a dagger hilt. “You can bring ten men along, Captain. The rest of your little army can stay right here, or Geran won’t go anywhere with you.”

“Fine,” the captain snapped. “Can we go now?”

“A moment,” Geran said. He turned to Mirya and took her hand. “Go ahead and take Selsha home. It should be fine. I’ll be by later, as soon as I straighten all this out.”

She nodded, although she couldn’t help but glance at the guardsmen waiting on the pier. “Mind your step, Geran Hulmaster. And, for all you’ve done for us-thank you.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek and then took Selsha by the hand and led her down to the pier.

With that, Geran looked to Sarth and Hamil and then followed Mirya to the wharf. Edelmark ordered ten of his men to come with him, dismissed the rest of his companies, and left a token force at the foot of the wharf. Then the Hulburg Guards-an army made up of the armsmen of the Merchant Council Houses, as far as Geran could tell- escorted the three companions through the streets of the town to the foot of Griffonwatch. It was a tense and silent walk, with little conversation. Edelmark refused to say more than he’d already said, and his men didn’t dare say more with their captain on hand. But the signs of recent fighting in the streets spoke clearly enough for them. More burned buildings, familiar shops boarded up, small groups of Hulburg Guards stationed on the corners, and no sight of the Shieldsworn or the native-born militias who’d been keeping the peace in the streets for months now.

They marched beneath the castle gate, and Edelmark took them directly to the great hall. The Harmach’s Council was gathered to await him, but as Geran approached, he realized that this was not the council he knew. In the places formerly reserved for Grigor Hulmaster’s advisors and the officers of the realm, the heads of the large merchant companies sat-the masters of the Double Moon Coster, the Iron Ring Coster, House Jannarsk, and of course Nimessa Sokol, whose face was set in an unhappy frown. Marstel’s former seat was vacant; instead the old lord now slumped in Harmach Grigor’s great wooden seat. Wulreth Keltor still held his seat as Keeper of Keys, but no other councilor who’d served under Grigor was at the table. How many of the others had been forced to flee? Geran wondered. How many were dead? The murmur of voices in the hall fell still as he drew near, and the men and women gathered in Griffonwatch’s hall silently watched him.

Captain Edelmark stepped forward and addressed Marstel. “Lord Harmach, I have brought Geran Hulmaster,” he said.

Marstel stirred himself and peered at Geran. “So you have,” he said. “Very good. We have some important matters to discuss, I believe. What of Seadrake?”

“She is moored to the old Veruna wharf. I left a company to guard the ship.” Edelmark frowned tightly.