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and died at the pleasure of the lord, who owned everything. There weren’t many of these left in Muscodia, and the ones that remained fiercely guarded their power. We had to wait while the sentries at the town gate sent a message ahead to Lord Corrett.
    When we got to the jail, Corett was waiting under the watchful gaze of two bulky, out-of-shape bodyguards. He was a tall, smooth- faced man with bad taste in expensive clothes. He regarded Jane with contempt as he paid her for her job, individually doling out each gold coin.
    When he finished, Jane smiled and said, “Pleasure doing business with you.”
    The nearest bodyguard jabbed her shoulder with his fingers and prompted, “My lord.”
    Jane’s glare could’ve melted rock. “Poke me again, lard bucket, and I’ll fold you up so you can lick your balls like a dog.”
    “The prisoner is ensconced in his cell?” Corrett asked in a blasé near-yawn. His voice was like the tines of a fork scraping across a plate.
    “Yes, sir,” the jailer said. He stood at attention beside the cell door and gestured inside. The young man sat on the straw, rubbing at the metal collar clamped around his neck. When he saw Corrett, the boy hissed, “Proud of yourself, my lord?” He spat the last two words.
    “My pride has nothing to do with this.”
    “This is all about your pride! Elaine prefers me to a driedup prick like you, and your ego can’t stand it!”
    “Gag him,” Corrett said with a casual wave of his hand. The jailer pretended not to hear.
    I asked Corrett, “What exactly did he do?”
    “He stole my best horse, not that it’s any concern of yours.” His accent on the final word carried enough contempt to bury a man standing up. He gestured at the portly escorts. “My guards found it tied outside his hovel.”
    “That’s bullshit!” the boy yelled. “They planted that horse and you know it!”
    “Gag him,” Corrett said again, enunciating each word. “And now you must excuse me, I have a young woman to visit. She’ll be delighted to learn that this rascal will no longer be forcing his attentions on her.”
    He and his entourage swept from the jail. The jailer sighed, took the uncomfortable-looking leather gag from its wall hook, and opened the cell.
    Jane watched the jailer buckle it around the boy’s head. She asked quietly, “You really didn’t steal that horse, did you?”
    The boy shook his head. Drool already trailed down his chin.
    “Course he didn’t,” the jailer said as he emerged from the cell. “Doesn’t matter, though. Man like Corrett can do what he wants with us commoners. He even owns the boots on our feet.”
    He froze when he felt the tip of Jane’s dagger at his throat. I took the keys from his belt and went to unlock the gag. He raised his hands and said, “Just beat me up so it looks like I put up a fight, okay? I need this job.”
     
     
    LATER, as we sat in the nearest tavern, we heard the commotion when the jailbreak was discovered. There was lots of shouting, and eventually a half-dozen men on horseback tore out of town.
    All innocence, Jane asked a stooped, bearded man who’d just entered, “Wow, what happened out there?”
    “Horse thief escaped,” he said. “Beat up Clyde over at the jail. Lord Corrett’s guards went after him, but it looks like he’s got a good head start.”
    Jane thanked him, then raised her ale mug in a toast and said softly, “To the good guys.”
    “If only there were more than just me and you,” I added as we clinked mugs and drank.
    “Guess we won’t be coming back to Barre Dumoth for a while,” Jane said. “So now I’m on your payroll. We’re looking for a pirate, who may or may not be dead, somewhere in the whole wide wet world. Where do we start, boss?”
    “At the scene of the crime,” I said. “Where he met my client.”
     

chapter THREE
     
    As we rode away from the Argo cottage, Miles watched us from the door. Jane had unchained him, since we had no idea how long