leading under the mountains to Vaasa, or had used some sort of magic to leave the familiar waters of the Moonsea.
“Do you think Geran will come find us?”
Mirya draped her blanket around Selsha’s shoulders, sharing its warmth. “Oh, darling, I know he will,” she said. “When Geran Hulmaster finds that we’re not in Hulburg, he’ll set out to find us, wherever we end up.” She meant it to comfort her daughter, but she realized that she was comforting herself as well. Geran would return to Hulburg sooner or later, and he’d discover their absence. Whatever it was that bound the two of them together- friendship, the memory of innocent love, perhaps the hope of what might come someday-she trusted in it. He’d follow to the four corners of the world if he believed she and Selsha were in danger.
Of course, that didn’t mean that she intended to wait for a rescue. She remembered a thing or two about sailing from long ago. Given a chance, she might be able to steal a boat and find her own way back to Hulburg. It would be difficult and dangerous, but surely taking her chances on the open sea would be better than going along with whatever her captors had planned for her. With that in mind, she began to search the cabin for anything that might be useful in an escape attempt. For the better part of an hour, she scoured the cabin and its sparse furnishings. Eventually she did find an old, well-worn copper coin stuck between the deckplanks. Finding little else that she could use, she turned her attention to using the coin’s slim edge to loosen the screws holding the door’s deadbolt in place. But the confident stride of approaching bootsteps interrupted her. Hurriedly she stood back up, slipped the coin under the mattress, and brushed off her hands.
The lock turned, and into the room stepped a man dressed in a long red coat with gold embroidery at the cuffs. He was a lean, fit, middle-aged man of average height, with a gray-streaked beard of black to frame his wide jaw, and a sword hanging at his belt. Mirya glimpsed a couple of big, poorly dressed sailors behind the man in the coat. “Well, now, I see you’re up and about,” he said. “How do you find your accommodations, Mistress Erstenwold?”
“I’ve little liking for cages, no matter how they’re furnished.” Mirya folded her arms and studied the fellow. She’d seen him before, she was sure of it, but it seemed like it might have been a long time ago. “Are you the captain?” she asked.
“Not much for chit chat, are you? No matter. I’m a direct fellow myself. I am the captain, as you’ve guessed. Kamoth Kastelmar’s my name, and you’re aboard my ship,
Mirya’s eyes widened. “The Kamoth who once was wed to the harmach’s sister?”
“I’m surprised you remember me! You’d have been a young girl when I lived in Griffonwatch, not too much older than your daughter there.” The corsair lord grinned broadly. “I suppose I’m not entirely forgotten in Hulburg.”
That was true enough, Mirya thought. There were few adults in Hulburg unfamiliar with Kamoth’s story. Fifteen years ago, he’d come out of Hillsfar to woo and win the harmach’s younger sister, widowed for several years. But almost as soon as he’d settled into the Hulmaster family home, he’d been caught out in some dark plot against the harmach and was driven into exile. From time to time Hulburgans gathered around a warm fire might wonder aloud what had ever become of Kamoth. It seemed Mirya had stumbled upon the answer.
“You’re a pirate now?” she managed to ask.
“So I’m called, but I prefer corsair. It has a better sound to it.”
“What do you mean to do with Selsha and me?”
“Sell you, of course. After all, you’re a fine-looking woman.” Kamoth allowed himself a hungry grin. His good humor didn’t reach his eyes, which remained as cold and dark as the eyes of a serpent. “Of course, you’d fetch a better price if you were five years younger, but I suppose you’ll do.”
“If it’s gold you’re after, there’s no need to sell my daughter and me into slavery,” Mirya said evenly. “I’m not rich, but I’ve some means and property. My daughter and I ought to fetch a fair ransom, more than we’d earn you in a slave market. You’d do better by the deal, and so would we.”
The captain raised an eyebrow. “Ah, so you think to bargain with me? Well, now, I must say I admire your backbone, Mistress Erstenwold. Not many women in your situation could look me in the eye and make such an offer. Were it up to me, I might take you up on it. But I’m afraid it’s not entirely in my hands. You were sent aboard
“Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll arrange to pay more.”
“A reckless offer, Mistress Erstenwold, since you’ve no idea what they might have offered me,” Kamoth said. He shook his head. “As it so happens, we’re bound for a port where your means and property are useless to me. Your value as a slave, however, travels with you.”
Mirya pressed her lips together to keep from snapping in frustration. She willed herself to calm and then said, “Then I don’t suppose I understand what it is you want from me.”
“Why, I am simply seeing to the comforts of my guests-and taking stock of the value of my property,” Kamoth answered. He let his eyes travel down Mirya’s body and then back up again. Then he set his hand on her shoulder. For a moment Mirya feared he meant to strip her on the spot, but he simply turned her to one side, continuing his appraisal of her. “Thirty years or so?” he said in a low voice. “Hmm, a few years younger would be better. But you’re not a bad-looking woman at all, Mistress Erstenwold. Why, I must say I might have
Something in the way the pirate captain studied her body and spoke sent a shiver of pure terror through Mirya. It was simply unendurable-cold and almost reptilian. She was property at best, perhaps some manner of plaything, and his show of courtesy was intended for his own amusement, not her comfort. He stared silently at her with a bemused smile on his face, his attention drifting in his own thoughts, and then he shook himself. “We’ll have to see about that later, I think. No reason to hurry! We’re almost at the Black Isle, and I’ve some things to do.”
He leaned to one side to look at Selsha, who crouched in the narrow bunk staring back at him, the blanket clutched to her chest. He winked once at the girl-it was all Mirya could do to keep from screaming-and then turned away and let himself out again without another look at either of the Erstenwolds. Mirya heard the key turn in the lock and rapid footsteps receding down the passage outside the door.
“Dear Lady,” Mirya breathed. Then she allowed herself to slump against the wall, hugging her arms to her torso to hold in her fear. Suddenly she was not at all sure that either she or Selsha would survive their captivity long enough for Geran to find them.
“What’s to become of us, Mama?” Selsha asked in a thin voice.
“I don’t know, my darling. But I think he means to keep us as his prisoners for a little longer.” She mustered a confident smile for Selsha and sat down beside her. “As long as we’re together, I’ll look after you.”
Selsha nodded. Then she sat up and looked around. “I think we’re going down now.”
Down? Mirya wondered. Sure enough, her sense of balance was telling her that the ship’s motion had changed again. The cant of the deck was different, and she thought she felt the air growing warmer. “Where in the world are they taking us?” she murmured.
She went to the porthole again and tried to make out something, anything, of their surroundings, but it was dark outside now. Even if the glass had been clear and clean, she suspected she wouldn’t have seen much. Frowning in puzzlement, Mirya picked up the tray by the door and went back to the bunk to sit by Selsha. They ate together. Selsha said that she was not hungry, but Mirya insisted that she eat something; there was no telling where they were bound at this point, and who knew when they might see their next meal?
After an hour or more of sharply descending, the ship finally bumped and slid against some sort of pier or wharf. Mirya could hear the taut mooring hawsers creaking as they arrested the ship’s motion, and the footsteps of the crewmen as they hurried back and forth across the deck. For a long time nothing else happened, and she began to wonder if the tiny cabin was to be their prison cell as well. But then she heard several heavy footsteps approaching outside her door again, and the jangle of keys on an iron ring.
The lock turned, and several of the pirate crewmen stepped into the room. They were dirty, dangerous- looking men in frayed breeches and worn-out tunics, and they leered at her shamelessly. “Come along, you,” one of the men said. “Make any trouble for us, and you’ll regret it.”
“Mama!” Selsha screeched.
“Be calm, Selsha!” Mirya answered as steadily as she could.
She remained docile as two of the pirates stepped forward to seize her by the arms. “Now you’re a pretty
