“Put that knife away, Caroline.”
I stared down at my hands in surprise. I hadn’t realized I’d unsheathed the blade. Everything had happened so fast. My shock was so great, I stepped backward. My legs hit the chair, and I dropped into it.
A commander of the Margravina’s army. And I’d pulled a knife on him.
But he didn’t seem as if he was about to hang me. Or arrest me. Indeed he did not seem to regard me as a threat at all. The commander glanced in the glass above the harbor master’s desk, straightening his uniform coat. He looked almost bored by the proceedings.
Returning the blade to its sheath, I sprang up. “What about my father?”
“Your father will be conveyed to one of the prison ships in Iantiporos.” He opened the door. “He will be assigned an advocate, as is his right under the law.”
“This isn’t fair.” I followed him onto the porch. I’d heard gruesome stories of those ships, where hundreds of men lay in chains and filth awaiting trial for crimes against the Margravina. “You had no gods-damned business boarding our wherry without our leave.”
“Vulgarity doesn’t impress me,” the commander said. “I don’t tolerate it from my young soldiers, and I don’t care for it from you either.”
Well, I wasn’t one of his soldiers, so he didn’t have a say.
The men marched Pa around the corner of the building. Fee jumped off the railing and scrambled after them. As soon as they were out of my sight, a pang of uncertainty pierced me.
The commander was already at the bottom of the porch steps. “What about Cormorant?” I called, anger thickening my voice.
“Your wherry is under impoundment. It will be confiscated and put under the control of the harbor master.”
A wherry was a “she,” not an “it.” I burned with resentment. “What about me and Fee? Where are we supposed to go?”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to take that up with your father. It was he who made the choice, not I.”
“You didn’t give him any choice.” I jogged to keep up with his long strides.
“I might remind you, Miss Oresteia, that smuggling is a crime in these waters.” He raised his eyebrows. “And since it is perfectly obvious that you and the frogman were complicit, one could say you’re getting off easy.”
“What if I pay the fine?”
He stopped. “Very well.” I could tell from his voice that his temper was growing short. “If you can produce sixty silver talents and pay them to the harbor master, you can have your gods-bedamned father and your gods-bedamned boat.”
He knew I didn’t have that much money. He was toying with me. I swallowed around the bitter lump in my throat.
The commander smirked down at me, as if I were a clump of dirt under his boot. “Good day.”
The beginning of an idea is like the wake behind your boat when you first shove off from the dock, nothing but little bubbles twirling in a lazy circle. But then it deepens and picks up speed, until there’s a frothy white wave trailing away from your stern. My idea started like that—a tiny flicker of bravery that grew.
“Commander Keros!” I ran to catch up. “Wait!”
“What is it now?” he barked, voice crisp and commanding. I realized he’d been holding back before, but now his patience seemed to have worn through.
“I’ll deliver your cargo.” There was no way he couldn’t hear my heart pounding. “I know the way to Valonikos like the back of my hand,” I said. “And I know Cormorant. I’ve been sailing her my whole life. I reckon that makes me a better bet than any of those other captains.” In truth, I wasn’t sure of that at all.
“Well.” The commander’s gaze swept over me. I held my breath. “Then I suppose, Miss Oresteia, we shall need a contract.”
The harbor master looked up from his account books in surprise as we reentered the office. The carpet was still rumpled near the door where my father had fought back against the soldiers. I dragged my eyes away, settling myself stiffly in the chair. Then I remembered how Pa had sprawled, as if he didn’t care. I forced myself to lean back until my shoulder blades touched wood.
The commander drew a fancy piece of parchment from his coat pocket, unrolling it flat on the table. “This is a letter of marque, Miss Oresteia. Do you know exactly what that entails?”
Numbly I shook my head.
“The Margravina is the ruler of Kynthessa—”
“I know that,” I snapped. “I’m not an idiot.”
He went on. “A captain with a letter from the Margravina in her possession cannot be detained or questioned. Anything she does, any action, even murder or an act of piracy, it is understood that she does in the service of the Margravina.” He tapped the parchment. “You’re a privateer now. If anyone gives you trouble, you’re to show them this letter.”
I thought of the Black Dogs, in that cutter with the four-pound cannons. If I showed them a piece of paper, they’d likely laugh in my face. And then shoot me. But I kept that thought to myself.
“You’ll deliver the crate to the Akhaian Consulate in Valonikos. Upon completion of your contract, you shall be paid ten silver talents.”
Ten silver talents was an incredible sum of money, far more than a cargo of one crate was worth.
“And if I do this,” I said carefully, “if I take this shipment to Valonikos, no questions asked, et cetera, whatever. If I do this, you’ll let Pa go free? Drop all charges?”
“You’re not exactly in a position to bargain here.”
I heard Pa’s voice in the back of my head. You’re always in a position to bargain. If they think you’re not, all the better. You’ve already got them. I shrugged. “Fine. I guess we don’t have a deal.”
The commander’s jaw twitched. “This shipment must be on the wherry and out of Hespera’s Watch within the hour, either with you or another captain.”
I gripped the chair arms. “You wouldn’t dare.” But I knew he would. Deep inside me, a small voice wondered if Cormorant wouldn’t be safer in the hands of Captain Brixton or Captain Krantor.
“Calm down, Miss Oresteia.” He sighed. “Finding another crew would take time. Attempting to reason with your unreasonable father would, again, take time. Time is what I don’t have.”
“Why don’t you take the box yourself, if it’s that important?”
“My men and I are bound across the border for Akhaia,” he said. “There’s … unrest in the capital. We go to look out for the Margravina’s interests there.”
“The box isn’t one of her interests?”
“Young lady, we’re soldiers, not carters or wherrymen,” he said dismissively, as if a carter or a wherryman was a person far beneath the commander of a military company. A person of little consequence. He shrugged. “We all do as we must.”
I understood his meaning. He was telling me our conversation was at a close. Now I must do what I must.