The Pirate of Fathoms Deep Read Online Free Page A

with pardons—he hadn't found a place to settle that felt right.
    He certainly wasn't welcome back among old friends, though that was an overgenerous word for them since, like any Mainlander, his fellow pirates were more than happy to throw an Islander overboard if they thought it would get them out of trouble.
    Shemal hadn't felt bad about giving up the worst of the lot, not by a grain. That had gotten him free and clear in less than a year, and he'd been trying to sail a proper course ever since.
    Just his damned luck that the first bit of trouble to come his way in so long also brought with it the whole reason he was trying to behave in the first place. He wished they'd managed to kidnap the stupid earl they'd actually been after.
    The clenching in his gut revealed the lie, not that he'd really been fooling himself.
    He turned his head again, wished there was more than moonlight to see by. Come daylight, Lesto would be too rested and aware for Shemal to get away with staring.
    The stupid bastard looked good with an eyepatch, like some chief who was the pride of his clan, had protected them through several storms and beaten off imperial corpse fuckers, and had more lovers than he could keep up with and more children than he could count.
    Picturing Lesto with other lovers made him feel like he'd drunk saltwater for hours straight. Given all the time that had passed and, well, Lesto … He probably had a lover. A real one. Not some stray pirate he'd have to keep secret.
    Swearing softly, Shemal sat up, folding and crossing his legs, resting his elbows on his knees and sinking his fingers into his hair. Once they obtained horses, it would only be another day at most before they were somewhere that had a garrison. After that, Lesto would go back to his life and Shemal to his.
    Three days to the nearest village, and an additional day to reach a well-sized town. Four days to…what, exactly?
    "Why am I not surprised you're one of those who never fucking sleeps?" Lesto asked, voice rough with sleep and not at all unpleasant. A hundred wistful thoughts spun through Shemal's mind, but he pushed them away. "What's keeping you awake? I doubt anyone is going to find us tonight. They don't strike me as the sort of people to work that hard. If so, they'd have kidnapped the correct person, or at least found a better cart."
    Shemal laughed. "Even if they weren't that lazy, which they are, the chances of them finding us are about as likely as finding a gold ring lost at sea. I didn't mean to wake you."
    "I never sleep long, especially when I'm not in my own bed," Lesto said. He pulled the satchel he'd been using as a pillow close and pulled out cheese and bread, breaking the bread in half and handing a portion to Shemal. "So why are you awake?"
    "I don't sleep well in strange places either. Too many years of waiting for trouble to appear on the horizon."
    Lesto snorted. "What trouble could possibly find you out here?"
    "Incompetent kidnappers and angry commanders," Shemal retorted, grinning when Lesto snorted. "I almost wish I could see their faces when they figure out what they've really done, but I'd prefer to stay as far away as possible because there's no telling how dangerous their client is." He sighed and took a bite of sharp, salty cheese and soft, faintly sweet bread. It wasn't the flat bread cooked over open flame that they ate back home, piled with fresh vegetables (and fish when he couldn't avoid it), but it wasn't the worst he'd ever eaten. Almost any food was better than none. "So what were you doing all the way out here?"
    He almost withdrew the question when Lesto's mouth flattened. It wasn't like he'd expected an answer. But just as he started to ask a different question, Lesto said, "A ship washed up on shore, all hands dead—murdered rather brutally. The cargo wasn't touched, though. It was like the mercenaries climbed aboard, murdered everyone, and slunk away again.
    A chill ran down Shemal's spine. "Were their throats