Blackveil (6 page)

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Authors: Kristen Britain

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #fantasy, #Epic

BOOK: Blackveil
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“That’s what I meant to ask you.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied.
“Me either, so I decided to check on things. When I stepped out, I saw your tracks in the snow and followed them here.” He hung his lantern on a bracket and sat next to her on a hay bale. The light reached Condor’s eyes as he gazed at them.
“I’m sorry—” both father and daughter began at the same time.
When Karigan opened her mouth to speak again, her father forestalled her with a gesture. “I admit I should have told you about the
Gold Hunter
long ago,” he said. “I never wanted this ill feeling to arise between us, but it has, and all because of my silence. If I tell you more about it now, will you hear me out?”
Karigan nodded, vowing to keep quiet and not interrupt him this time with accusations.
“Good, good. Perhaps you will come to understand, then, why I chose to remain with the
Gold Hunter
even after she became a pirate. I will warn you now, however, that there will always be some details I will never speak of. Even your mother did not know everything. Just as I expect you’ve secrets you will never tell me.”
Karigan scowled, but he was right, and so she held her tongue.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded emphatically, more ready than he could ever imagine.
He inclined his head in formal acknowledgment. “Very well, then,” and he inhaled deeply to begin.
“The captain of the
Gold Hunter,”
he said in a voice that took on the tone and cadence of a storyteller, “was not an evil man, but deeply motivated by profit. And so, yes, when the embargo was lifted from the Under Kingdoms, he continued to seize ships. He was as good a naval tactician as he was a businessman, and the
Gold Hunter,
well, she was a beauty in her day, with swift, trim lines. In barely a puff of wind she’d skim the water, overtaking any other vessel in sight, especially those heavily laden with cargo.”
His hands moved to illustrate the ship’s size and dimensions as he spoke. Karigan did not doubt he envisioned the
Gold Hunter
before him, felt the wind in his hair and the sea spray against his face; saw dolphins leaping the waves that curled from the prow.
“We took merchant vessels plump with cargos of every description,” he continued. “Casks of Rhovan wine, bundles of tobacco leaves, metal ore, spices, ceramics ... anything you can imagine. Even a ship full of goats.”
Karigan almost questioned him about how many sailors had to die when the pirates “took” a vessel and its goods, but she managed to remain still and just listen. She glanced at Condor, and his unblinking gaze steadied her.
“The
Gold Hunter
was fitted with an iron ram,” her father said, “and crewed by hands who were well-armed and skilled fighters. Few vessels outran us, and because of the reputation we attained for fighting fierce battles, Captain Ifior convinced most merchantmen to yield before combat even began. He was fair with defeated crews, especially those who surrendered, and they were free to go as they willed once we made landfall. Some chose to remain with the
Gold Hunter.
“I myself was a mere cabin boy, and I will not claim life on board was easy or pleasant. It was hard work and the captain stern. He had no patience for slackers and he was quick to flog any sailor he deemed wasn’t moving fast enough.” He rubbed his shoulder, grimacing with some memory. “Likewise, since I was the smallest on crew, others saw fit to kick me around for no particular offense except I was there.”
Karigan found it difficult to imagine her father as a boy, for he’d always seemed so tall and indomitable to her, not one to be pushed around. Those boyhood experiences must have forged him into the man she knew. They certainly did not break him, nor did they turn him into some monster that gave back the same as he got. It was amazing, really, and she, who had a gentle, loving upbringing, could only admire him for it.
“But as difficult as life could be on the
Gold Hunter,
” he said, “it was no worse than I experienced fishing with my father. Easier in many ways. More lucrative, too, and so I stayed.” He paused, loosing a breath that was barely perceptible to her, like a light slackening of the wind in the sails, a release. She glanced at him and saw he was far away, far off on the sea, perhaps, watching gannets plunge from the sky into the waves after fish, and the sun lowering beyond the horizon of the world, not sitting anchored in a stable in the middle of a snowstorm. She wondered at the memories she forced him to dredge up, wondered what parts he recalled but chose not to tell her.
“The most important reason I stayed,” he said, “was because of what I learned—not just the writing, reading, and figuring, but what I observed when I accompanied the captain to market. Remember those goats I mentioned? Not worth a great amount here in Sacoridia, or other ports on the continent, but on Mallollan Island? A different story.”
Mallollan, Karigan knew, was part of the Cloud Island archipelago, where her father maintained ties to this day.
“There were no native livestock animals there,” he continued. “They did have some scrawny cows and hogs acquired in direct trade, but most had to be brought over on the long and dangerous passage from Pikelea, where the customshouse was based and all the international and
legal
commerce occurred. Which meant the purchasing of goods was more expensive and heavily taxed, and the returns more modest.
“Captain Ifior, however, stayed away from the main island, thus avoiding paying duty and evading any officials seeking his arrest for piracy. Instead, he sailed directly to Mallollan, where he was welcomed by people with little access to trade goods, but who were eager to obtain them.
“I watched him barter with the chiefs of various villages on the island. The captain had been right—they wanted those goats. Not only for milk and meat, but because owning them would elevate their status across the whole archipelago. What the captain received in return were goods plentiful to the islanders, but in demand elsewhere: sugarcane, pearls, nutmeg, cinnamon ...”
Those items were still in high demand in Sacoridia and elsewhere, and brought princely sums, creating huge fortunes for several merchant clans. Karigan’s father still traded with the islands, and even pioneered the shipping of ice harvested from Sacoridian ponds and lakes to the tropics, yet it was textiles that had brought him his greatest wealth. She shifted beneath the horse blanket, realizing she’d never heard precisely why and how textiles, and not those other things, had become the core of her father’s business. There was much, she supposed, she had taken for granted.
“You see,” her father said, “it was the captain’s genius for knowing the markets I wished to emulate, and from then on, I worked hard; became the best cabin boy he’d ever known, and soon he entrusted me to keep his ledgers. He even showed me how to save and invest my share of a prize. Best of all, he continued to take me to market where I watched and learned.”
He then sighed, his gaze cast downward. “The end came when merchantmen, aware of the
Gold Hunter
’s reputation, started hiring protection when traveling the routes Captain Ifior prowled. Our prey, with its extra protection, turned bold, more aggressive, and our battles more pitched. In what would become our final voyage, the captain was slain in a clash with a Tallitrean ship, and he wasn’t the only one we lost. The fighting was vicious, and the
Gold Hunter
was badly damaged.” He shook his head. “We limped into port, all scorched and nearly dismasted. If it weren’t for Sevano, we wouldn’t have made it home at all.”
“Sevano?”
Her father smiled. “He was first mate and took command when the captain died.”
“I knew he’d sailed with you, but not on—not on—”
“You didn’t picture him a pirate, eh? No more than me, I suppose.”
She pushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. The cargo master was like a part of the family, and was the first to show her how to defend herself from anyone who might do her harm. He was proficient with weapons, but she hadn’t thought it unusual for a cargo master. He must have learned those skills as a mariner.
“Where Captain Ifior was a father to me,” he said, “Sevano was an elder brother. When fights broke out over whatever cargo remained in the hold, he managed to claim some of it for me, me being the scrawny boy I was back then. No one wanted the bolts of beautiful cloth we’d taken off a Durnesian merchant, especially when there were other goods of more obvious value, so they were mine, and I took them to market. I guess I had an eye for quality, and with my training, I got a very good price.”
When Karigan’s father fell silent, she could only gape. This was the origin of Clan G’ladheon’s wealth and prestige? Stolen bolts of cloth? This was her father’s first step toward becoming the premier textile merchant of Sacoridia?
If he hadn’t taken that step, where would she be now? Probably back on Black Island, a fishwife, and constantly pregnant, living in a modest cot already full of squalling children.
Would she have heard the Rider call?
She didn’t know.
It was odd how a single decision, or a chance meeting, could change the course of not only one life, but that of others. If her father had not run away from Black Island, had not learned all he had from Captain Ifior, her vision of herself as a fishwife would likely be all too true. Instead, because of her father’s choices, she’d grown up privileged, very comfortable, and well-educated. In light of all that, it was difficult for her to stay angry at him for being a cabin boy on the
Gold Hunter.
She still didn’t approve of piracy, but she couldn’t blame him.
Condor shook his head, ears and mane flopping. He gave her a sleepy look, then turned inward, toward the depths of his stall.
“There is shame in being involved with piracy,” her father said in a quiet voice. “It is wrong, and I see it now with maturity, especially now that I wear the cloak of a merchant. Ironically, I deplore those who would attack my caravans, or ships I’ve invested in. They are criminals, as I once was a criminal.
“A part of me wonders if I would have achieved success without all I learned from my association with the
Gold Hunter.
I think I probably would have—I am a persistent sort, and determined to succeed. But it would have taken longer, and the success might be less.” He smiled. “I was motivated to achieve because I knew a beautiful girl waited for me back on the island. I would not take her as my wife until I’d proven myself a man—shown that I could support her, and support her well. She deserved no less. I vowed she would not be a poor fisherman’s wife. The
Gold Hunter
allowed me to bring her to Corsa and marry her all that much sooner. I cannot say what would have happened if I’d chosen some other path, but your mother and I, we had dreams ...
“In any case,” he said more brusquely, “piracy is not an admirable thing. And ... and I was ashamed of what you would think. Seeing disappointment in your eyes when you confronted me earlier—that was the hardest thing I’ve faced in a long while.”
“If only you had told me sooner.”
“I believed you were too young to understand the implications.” He paused. “I know now you are not, but I fear I can’t help but still see you as my little girl in her party dress and ribbons, with scraped elbows.”
Karigan thought as much.
“You’re frowning,” he said. “Be careful or your face will freeze that way.”
She only screwed up her face more.
“Well, if that is all, perhaps we should retire to our beds. I didn’t work so hard for so many years for my daughter to be sleeping in the stable.” He rose and watched her.
The wind had quieted. Karigan wondered if it was a lull in the storm, or if it was actually dying out. “There’s one more thing,” she said.
Her father stood there, just waiting.
Before she lost her nerve, she said, “When I passed through Rivertown last fall, I met a friend of yours—Silva Early. In fact, I stayed at her ... her establishment, the Golden Rudder.”
The blood drained from Stevic G’ladheon’s face.
MOONSTONE
S
everal horses, including Condor, peered from their stalls, watching father and daughter like spectators at a tournament. The silence was excruciating.

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