Waterborne (Wanderlust 3)

Chapter Twenty

"I'm not sure you can even hold a sword," Rico replied. He was standing differently, Tanden realized. His shoulders pushed back, better posture. It transformed him from the nervous sailor they had known to someone much more formidable.

It was better if Rico believed what he had said, so Tanden didn't correct him. "Regardless, I'm unarmed."

"Soren isn't."

"Soren," Tanden said. "I appreciate your protective nature, but I'm better in this sort of situation than you are." He hoped Rico would assume he meant talking through conflict, but that Soren would understand that he meant the sword.

He heard Soren mutter something under his breath, and then the clatter of the cutlass hitting the floor.

"There," Tanden said, giving Rico his most diplomatic smile. "Nothing to worry about on our end."

Rico took a step back, but kept the sword point steady. "Come out, then, and give us your hands."

Tanden cautiously left the protection of the doorframe, and offered his arms to the nearest stranger. While the man roughly bound his wrists together, Tanden watched Rico.

"I suspect I've been addressing you incorrectly, and I apologize. What should I call you from now on?"

Rico nodded at one of the other strangers, indicating that the man should move to restrain Soren. He turned back to Tanden. "Captain."

"Ah." Tanden nodded. "Captain of the—" He noticed it then, behind Rico and the strangers, another ship pulled up beside the Wanderlust. She wasn't a big ship, maybe two thirds the Wanderlust's length with triangular Alvarian-style sails. A memory came to him. "You said you lost your ship to pirates."

"I couldn't very well tell you that I lead them."

"No," Tanden agreed, "I suppose not."

Rico slipped his sword back into its sheath and strode off without a word. The men holding Tanden and Soren tugged him along behind him. Rico stopped at the bulwark, looking towards the beach. In the still flickering bonfires, Tanden could see his crew lined up on their knees. He could also see bodies, lying still in the sand, and hoped they were the pirates. Surely some of the men weren't drunk enough to have been easily overpowered. Or the women—Jale and Elorie hadn't been drinking.

Tanden was pushed forward to stand at the bulwark with him, and Soren was held back. Tanden cast him a quick look before trying to once again be diplomatic. "Captain Rico, may I ask what will happen next? The Wanderlust is quite the prize, in of herself, not to mention our cargo. What about my crew?"

"We might take some of them on," Rico said. "Slavers will pay well for the rest of them."

Tanden clenched his bound fists, but managed to maintain his tone. "I'm sure that's unnecessary. I have a very capable crew. They would all be excellent additions to your ship."

"Ships."

Tanden's eyes flashed towards the one ship tucked up against the Wanderlust. Then he realized that there were two more, floating further away. They looked eerie and ghost-like in the moonlight. "Even better," Tanden said. "You'll have room for all of them, then."

"How many of your crew could I trust?" Rico asked. "Oh, maybe some of them are happy to work for whoever's paying, but too many of them are yours. I could never trust them."

"That's not..." Tanden struggled to sound sincere. "You could trust them."

Rico smirked. "Not even you believe that." Spinning on his heel, he addressed his men in Alvarian. "Get everyone aboard the Exhun!"