Page 177 of Sword & Sacrifice

She’d barely reached the cabin door when raised voices leaked through the wood.

“—putting him in danger!”

“What else do you expect us to do, Braden?”

Emmaline paused, her brow furrowing. She wasn’t sure whether it would be better to announce her presence with a knock or to simply return to her own cabin.

The captain’s next words made her freeze in place. “If we want to eliminate Everett for good, the best way is to trap him on the shore.”

Eliminate him? A cold dread pooled in Emmaline’s stomach. She understood that her father was not a good man. Whatever excuses he gave, a constable had falsely imprisoned her as a favor to him, his men had kidnapped her, and he’d made a deal with a traitor. While she’d initially given him the benefit of the doubt, she eventually had to admit that the company he kept reflected his true character. But the idea of his death still unsettled her.

“On Bellacosta’s shores, you’re saying, with or without Silas’ permission,” Braden said. “Do you even plan to warn him first?”

“If we have time. We have no idea when Everett’s ships will arrive, how quickly he can gather his forces. For all we know, he stationed his ships around Bellacosta before he even met to negotiate with Varro. By the time we arrive, it could all be—” She stopped, her words falling into an awkward silence.

“It could all be what, Moira?”

“It’s best if you stay on the ship until we assess the situation.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“Fine,” Moira snapped. “Would you rather I detail the worst-case scenario for you? How we could arrive too late and find both Everett’s and Varro’s men have ransacked the shores? Burned every building to the ground? Cut off your son’s head and impaled it on a pike for all to see?”

Emmaline gasped and stumbled backwards, crashing into a sturdy body behind her.

“It’s all right,” Echo murmured as he steadied her, wrapping one arm around her waist. “I’ve got you.”

The conversation inside the cabin stopped. After a few seconds, heavy footsteps approached the door. Emmaline didn’t know how to face the captain after hearing such cruel speculations about her father, so she grabbed Echo’s hand and dragged him back to her own small cabin.

As soon as the door closed, she leaned her forehead against it and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Em?” Echo whispered, squeezing her hand once, reminding her that he was still holding on.

“Is my father a monster?” she asked.

Echo was quiet for so long, she assumed he would either formulate a kind lie or refuse to tell her anything at all. “Why don’t we sit?” he suggested, guiding her away from the door and to the bed. Instead of sitting with her, he sat in the chair, near enough that they could still hold hands.

She considered letting go, but the hand of this new persona was nice and strong, with callouses that reminded her of the soldiers back home.

“Everett Shaw is a pirate,” Echo began, “he’s ruthless, bloodthirsty, and selfish, but he’s only a man. Calling him a monster gives him more power than he deserves.”

“What did you see while you worked with him?” she asked. “And please, don’t treat me like I’m too delicate to hear.”

Slowly, Echo untangled his fingers from Emmaline’s and leaned back in his chair, putting a little distance between them.

Her hand felt cold and empty without his presence, but she clenched her fist rather than reach for him again.

“A merchant pissed him off once. Sometimes, crews are hired to escort ships on long journeys to protect them from other pirates. Good pay with fewer casualties than attacking the ships ourselves. The problem is, we reached our destination without a single issue.”

Emmaline’s brow furrowed. “Why is that a problem?”

“Because the merchant decided he didn’t have to pay us since we weren’t needed.”

“But you spent your time defending him!” Many Arnsveldians loaned themselves out as mercenaries or bodyguards to other, richer kingdoms to earn money. They were compensated for their time, any equipment used, and any injuries sustained. A safe journey still offered a fair payment because they spent weeks away from home for each assignment.

“That’s not how he saw it,” Echo replied, his lips pressed in a grim line. “And Everett decided the man needed incentive to pay them. He spread the word through Dreamer’s Isle that anyone who worked with the merchant wouldn’t receive payment, so no one accepted his contracts anymore. Then Everett spent three months burning and sinking every single one of the merchant’s ships. By the end of it, the man lost all his contracts, his entire livelihood, and threw himself into the sea.”

Emmaline gasped. The merchant had done wrong, of course, but she hadn’t expected his story to end so tragically.