Chapter Two: A Dead Man's Surprise
In which Donal and Ian discover the dead man’s secret—one worth dying for…
Ian tried to form thoughts around the fog in his head. “Murder?”
Donal crouched next to the body with a lantern. “It appears so. Not much hope a man could survive such a wound.”
Ian blinked several times and leaned forward. The man lying in a pool of blood was clearly Eastern; no one on the Blue Horizon would dare to wear the silk trousers, shirt, and belt of the man on the ship’s floor. He had a black hood drawn over his face that left only his eyes visible. Donal pulled the hood off the man’s head to reveal a nondescript Tal’Amuni face. He closed the man’s eyes.
“Any idea who he is?” Ian asked.
Donal shook his head. “The clothing would suggest a Tal’Amuni assassin, but I can’t imagine who could overpower such a man. Perhaps he’s only dressed as one.”
Ian tried to stand again but realized that he wasn’t quite ready for that level of exertion. He sat back on the cot and caught his breath, one hand on his head in a futile attempt to stop the room from spinning. “Did they catch the killer?”
“We dinna,” said Captain Robbie Dougal as he thumped into the crew quarters. How the man could fit himself down into the hold, Ian could not understand. Robbie folded his arms and frowned down at the dead man and Donal. “Well?”
Donal shrugged as he straightened to standing next to the captain. “I don’t see anything that identifies him or explains why he was here. Where’s the repha?”
“In the city,” Robbie said. He still frowned, steely blue eyes taking in the scene even as he seemed to be thinking through his options. “Did you see anything?”
Ian understood that the captain was addressing him, even though Robbie never looked directly at him. Robbie Dougal had a directness that defied explanation. I think he could speak directly to the south wind, and it would answer him by name. “Not really, captain. I was sleeping when the commotion started.”
The captain turned his head so that one blue eye fixed on Ian’s face from under a single raised eyebrow. “Sleeping.”
Ian’s stomach threatened to turn over again. For the love of all that’s decent, you’re a prince of the realm. Robbie Dougal is just the captain of a ship—respected, aye, but not your father or your king. Relax, man. “Aye, sleeping. I had a busy day in the city.”
Robbie Dougal grunted. He turned his eye to Donal. “Take the body to the sick room. The repha will need to see it.”
Ian frowned. “I think he’s beyond healing.”
“The repha will need to write it up,” Donal said. “And since he’s not one of ours, we’ll need to involve the authorities.”
Robbie swore under his breath. “’Twill delay our return.”
“The men will appreciate a delay,” Ian said. “I mean, as long as we don’t have anything urgent to transport, there’s no harm in letting them have a bit more time ashore, aye?”
Robbie swiveled his gaze toward Ian. “Oh, well, since the prince says there’s no urgency, then I suppose we’ll just lollygag about for a bit. Spend a bit more time dropping our pants and abusing our stomachs, then?”
“I only meant—”
“And how d’ye know who’s awaiting the cargo we transport, eh? D’ye have special senses that us commonfolk aren’t privy to?”
“Captain, I—”
“Help Donal and then sleep off the rest of your drink. I’ll brook no excuses if ye canna make your watch.” He didn’t wait for a reply, but turned and hauled his substantial girth back up the ladder.
Donal let out a long breath. “Help me with the body?”
Ian nodded and knelt at the feet of the dead man. “Robbie doesn’t like me much.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d thought it, but it was the first time he’d said it aloud. The captain had pierced Ian’s composure multiple times each day since they left Espara, and even when Ian’s duties were completed, his boots polished, and his conscience clear, he would still squirm and shuffle his feet like a guilty schoolboy caught putting frogs in his tutor’s vest pocket. Not that I ever did that. That was Coll.
Donal shrugged before putting his hands under the arms of the dead man. “Robbie doesn’t really like anyone.”
“Not even his wife?”
Donal snorted a laugh. “Robbie and his wife have an understanding. He stays at sea, and she stays married to him. He writes her on occasion, and she accommodates his infrequent visits to Eirya, but that’s about it.” He chuckled. “How they managed to have five sons is a mystery.”
“Well, if Robbie is always at sea—”
Donal shook his head. “Have you ne’er seen the boys, then? Every one of them stamped with the face of the man who commands this ship. No, there’s not a doubt about who sired the Dougal boys.” He started to lift the dead man’s shoulders, and something thumped onto the floor from the man’s clothing.
Ian craned his neck. “What is it?”
Donal shifted the body enough to uncover the dropped item, and he gave a low whistle. “Would you gaze upon that?”
Ian took a step toward Donal and sucked in a breath. “By the gods,” he whispered. “Where in the name of heaven did he get that?”
Donal picked up a stone nearly as large as his palm and twisted it in the faint lantern light. The blue of the stone was almost black, and the facets sparkled and cast their reflected light onto the drab walls of the crew quarters. “D’ye know what it is, lad?”
Ian shook his head.
“Unless I’m mistaken, this sapphire came from the collection of the Tal’Amuni emperor.” He paused. “’Tis the Heart of the Goddess.”
If you like this story so far, remember to subscribe and share!