The Pirate of Fathoms Deep Read Online Free Page B

slit with a serrated blade? Were some of them missing their right hands?"
    Lesto's head snapped up. "How did you know that?"
    Shemal swallowed the lump of cheese suddenly stuck in his throat, fumbled with his own bag until he found the water they'd refilled just before deciding to stop for the night. "I only came across them once, when we were stuck in port because of a storm. This was across the sea in Treya Mencee. A group of men dressed in black, with white hands dripping blood as their crest. They're called the Hands of Death. A not much talked about group of mercenaries who work unofficially for the royal family. If that entire ship was slaughtered by the Hands of Death, then somebody pissed off a Treya Mencee royal, and they've sent a warning."
    "I've never heard of them," Lesto said. "I know all the mercs that work for Treya, and I've never heard a whisper of them."
    "You wouldn't," Shemal said flatly. "That's not how they work. I wouldn't know except I was with a rough crew at the time because my last ship had been waylaid by port authorities and they were my only way home. Once the storms let up, we were gone, and I never saw shadow nor splash of them again. But they stick in the mind. If I were you I'd figure out who or what was on that ship that'd piss off the Treya Mencee royal family, and I'd do it quickly."
    There were several beats of silence then Lesto said gruffly, "Thank you."
    Shemal shrugged, wished he knew why his stupid heart had started thudding madly again. He was thirty-eight years old, far too old to be acting like a kid with his first infatuation.
    "So how's life as a free citizen?" Lesto asked, though the question sounded a bit sour.
    "Boring. I really hate goats. But it's better than accidentally smuggling weapons. As my mother would say, everything settles at the bottom eventually."
    Lesto snorted softly. "That sounds more ominous than I think it's meant."
    Shemal flashed a quick grin. "I guess it loses something in the translation."
    "Unlike your insults, which seem to carry over well enough. I'm not sure what you get up to on those islands when your favorite insults are mother fucker and corpse fucker."
    "That just conveys our low opinion of Mainlanders," Shemal retorted.
    Lesto grunted at that, but did not otherwise reply.
    Had Shemal said something wrong? He'd thought they were having fun. Flirting, his stupid, unhelpful mind pointed out. Shemal ignored it. What point was there to it? He wouldn't be a dirty secret, and someone like Lesto wouldn't—couldn't, if Shemal felt like being fair—have him any other way. Whatever Shemal's hopeless fantasies about making himself respectable enough, it would never happen. An Islander with a criminal past was never going to be anything but a tool or an amusement to a Mainlander duke, especially when that duke was half a step from the throne.
    If only Shemal could figure out how to get his logical, reasonable thoughts to bite. It wasn't fair he was constantly at war with his own damned mind.
    "Given you have such a low opinion of us, I'd think now that you're a free man, you'd have hightailed it back to Farland."
    Shemal shrugged. "If I wanted to stay at home, I would have never left, or returned a long time ago."
    "You seem to hate it here more," Lesto replied.
    "I don't hate it," Shemal said. "Don't get me wrong, there's a long list of corpse fuckers that I'd love to turn into shark bait , but most people don't mean any harm. Everyone just wants to get on with their day with as little trouble as possible. As to back home… Well, I am the youngest son of a youngest son. It's our sacred duty to stay out of the way unless we're doing something to help everyone else. I have no desire to spend the rest of my life serving my brothers, sisters, and all their children. By this point, there's a flock of grandchildren too." He made a face. "So I'll just stay here."
    Lesto made a soft noise that Shemal could not decipher. "Not much for children?"
    Shemal peered