Diablo: The Black Road. Mel Odom

Mat agreed without hesitation. “I’ll give ye me word on it, I will, and spit on me palm to seal the deal.”

      “How do I know I can trust you?” the pirate demanded.

      Mat laughed a little. “Well, old son, we’ve done an’ let ye live so far, ain’t we?”

      Darrick looked down at the man. “How many of you were there here?”

      “Just us two,” the pirate replied sullenly.

      “What time’s the changing of the guard?”

      Hesitating, the pirate said, “Soon.”

      “Pity,” Mat commented. “If someone happens by in the next few minutes, why, I’ll have to slice your throat for ye, I will.”

      “I thought you said you were going to let me live,” the pirate protested.

      Mat patted the man’s cheek again. “Only if we don’t have nasty surprises along the way.”

      The pirate licked his lips. “New guards won’t be until dawn. I just told you that so maybe you’d leave and Raithen wouldn’t be so vexed at me for not lighting the torch.”

      “Well,” Mat admitted, “it was a sound plan on your part. I’d probably have tried the same thing. But we’re here on some matter of consequence, ye see.”

      “Sure,” the pirate said, nodding. Mat’s behavior, as always in most circumstances, was so gentle and understanding that it was confounding.

      Immediate relief went through Darrick. Changing of the guard during the middle of the night wasn’t something he would have suspected, but the confirmation let him know they still had a few hours to get the king’s nephew back before the morning light filled the land.

      “What about the king’s nephew?” Mat asked. “He’s just a boy, an’ I wouldn’t want to hear that anything untoward has happened to him.”

      “The boy’s alive.”

      “Where?” Darrick asked.

      “Cap’n Raithen has him,” the pirate said, wiping blood from his lip. “He’s keepin’ him aboard Barracuda.”

      “And where, then, can we find Barracuda?” Darrick asked.

      “She’s in the harbor. Cap’n Raithen, he don’t let Barracuda go nowheres unless he’s aboard her.”

      “Good.” Darrick turned east, noting that Maldrin and his crew had returned with waterskins they’d filled from the river using the rope they left behind. “Get this man up and on his feet, Mat. I’ll want him gagged proper.”

      “Aye, sir.” Mat yanked the pirate to his feet and took another kerchief from a pocket to make the gag.

      Stepping close to the pirate, Darrick felt bad when the man winced and tried to move away from him, held in place only because Mat blocked him from behind. With his face only inches from the pirate’s, Darrick spoke softly. “And let’s be having an understanding, you and me.”

      When the silence between them stretched out, the pirate looked at Mat, who offered no support. Then the prisoner looked back at Darrick and nodded hopefully.

      “Good,” Darrick said, showing him a wintry smile. “If you try to warn your mates, which could be something you’d be interested in because you might actually be inclined favorably toward some of them, I’ll slit your throat for you calm as a man gutting a fish. Nod your head if you understand.”

      The pirate nodded.

      “I’ve no love of pirates,” Darrick said. “There’s ways for an honest man to make a living without preying on his neighbors. I’ve killed plenty of pirates in the Great Sea and in the Gulf of Westmarch. One more won’t bump up the score overmuch, but I’d feel better about it myself. Are we clear here?”

      Again, the pirate nodded, and crocodile tears showed in his eyes.

      “Crystal, sir,” Mat added energetically as he clapped the pirate on the shoulder. “Why, I don’t think we’ll be having any problems with this man at all after your kind explanation regardin’ the matter.”

      “Good. Bring him along, but keep him close to hand.” Turning, Darrick started east, following the ridgeline of the Hawk’s Beak Mountains that would take them down toward Tauruk’s Port.

      FIVE

      Standing near the dead woman’s body in the inn room in Tauruk’s Port, Raithen watched as Pettit reached into a pocket under his vest and took out a piece of paper.

      “That’s what brung me up here to see ye, cap’n,” the first mate said. “Valdir sent this along just now as quick as he could after them priests found the door buried down in them ruins.”

      Raithen crossed the room and took the paper. Unfolding it, he leaned toward the fireplace and the lantern that sat on the mantel.

      Valdir was the current spy the pirate captain had assigned to Cholik’s excavation team. Raithen kept them rotated out with each new arrival of slaves. The men assigned didn’t care for it, and the fact that they didn’t become sickly and emaciated as the others did would draw attention from the mercenaries who remained loyal to Cholik’s gold.

      The paper held a drawing of a series of elliptical lines, centered one within the other, and a different line running through them.

      “What is this?” Raithen asked.

      Leaning, Pettit spat again, missing the cuspidor this time. He rubbed strings of spittle from his chin. “That there’s a symbol what Valdir saw on that door. It’s a huge door, cap’n, near to three times as tall as a man, the way Valdir puts it.”

      “You spoke to him?”

      Pettit nodded. “Went in to talk to some of the mercenaries we’re doin’ business with. Ye know, to kinda keep them on our side. Took ’em a few bottles of brandy we got off that last Westmarch merchant ship we took down.”

      Raithen knew that wasn’t the only reason Pettit had gone to see the men. Since the pirates had all the women in port, a fact that Cholik and his priests didn’t much care for, the mercenaries they’d hired had to negotiate prices for the women’s services with Pettit.

      Being avaricious was one of the reasons Raithen had taken Pettit on as first mate. Pettit’s own knowledge that his loyalty ensured not only his career but also his life kept him in place. It helped that Raithen knew Pettit never saw himself as being a captain and that his only claim to power would be serving a captain who appreciated the cruel and conniving ways he had.

      “When did the priests find the door?” Raithen asked. If Cholik had known, why hadn’t the priest been there? Raithen still didn’t know why Cholik and his minions crawled through the detritus of the two cities like ants, but their obvious zeal for whatever they looked for had gotten him excited.

      “Only just,” Pettit replied. “As it turned out, cap’n, I was in them tunnels when Valdir fetched up with the news of their findin’.”

      Raithen’s nimble mind leapt. He turned his eyes back to the crude drawing. “Where is that bastard Cholik?” They had spies on the priest as well.

      “He joined the diggers.”

      “Cholik’s there now?” Raithen’s interest grew more intense.

      “Aye, cap’n. An’ once word of this discovery reached him, Cholik wasted no time in harin’ off down there.”

      “And we don’t have any idea what’s behind this door?” Of course, Cholik didn’t know about the king’s nephew Raithen and his pirates were holding for ransom, either. Both sides had their secrets,