Taking Flight [Silver Talon Saga, Part 2]
“I’m having trouble understanding exactly what you mean. You’re saying there’s no way you can grant us passage?”
“Well, maybe yer ought ter clean the damn dirt from yer ears, ‘cause that ain’t what I said at all.” The burly, red-maned Nord glowered down at her with obvious contempt. Apparently he was tiring of these negotiations as much as she. “I ain’t sayin’ we can’t, I’m sayin’ that we won’t. And yer damn lucky I ain’t already called the guard down here ter keep you away from me an’ mine.”
She did her best to look utterly appalled. “And why ever would you do a thing like that?”
“Pah,” the man spat. “Yer think I don’t know the evil eye when I see it? The captain what takes a cursed thing like that aboard ‘is vessel’s either a bloody fool er a man with a deathwish.”
That was that, then. They were going to have to find another ship.
She was truly beginning to disdain having to lay low, but it really was for the best. Her uncle knew she was coming, but not when, and she had some things to see to in Redshore before making herself known to him. Rumors of a Bretic noblewoman traveling to Wayrest by boat would be a dead giveaway, which was why today she was not a nobelwoman at all, but a humble birdkeeper. The massive eagle owl upon her shoulder bristled as the old sea dog stormed off.
“Oh, don’t be so glum,” Narcisse cooed pleasantly. “You’ve been nothing but good luck to me.”
Oghma’s new body suited him quite well, she thought. She had similar designs in mind for her other four, once she returned to her laboratory at home. For now, however, his imposing size and rather foreboding appearance was making this difficult. She couldn’t exactly flaunt her status when she was attempting to go in cognito, and using a charm spell was impractical for such a long voyage. She was forced to do this the old fashioned way, and it was not going in her favor.
She was about to call it a day and return to her old manse for some much needed libations when a voice that seemed to ring like the clattering of coins caught her attention. “Third time you’ve been turned down this afternoon by my count.”
Narcisse’s eyes narrowed with scrutiny, a barely perceptible shift. She’d assumed that someone was watching her, but hadn’t presumed that he would just come out and announce it. That meant he wanted something. Very well. She’d play, for now. “I’m sorry?”
“Don’t look so discouraged, gorgeous,” the man smiled as if he expected her to melt for him then and there. She didn’t doubt many young girls did just that. “You’re lookin’ for a ship, I’m lookin’ for an opportunity, and I see one standin’ right here in front of me.”
This was certainly unexpected. Either he was desperate, mad, or trying to lure her into assassination or worse. “And what opportunity do you imagine I might have to offer, might I ask?”
“The only kind of opportunity I’m interested in, gorgeous. The kind that you can take to the bank. Oh, don’t look so confused. You and I both know you’re more than just some crazy bird keeper.” This time when he smiled, the games were gone from his eyes. “What do you say we move this conversation below decks? A lot less prying eyes aboard the Gambit.”
“The Gambit?” she asked as she began to follow. “I’ve never heard of her.”
“I suppose not,” the man replied, sounding a shade disappointed. “The Fool’s Gambit, one of the finest smuggling vessels you’ll find from here to Elsweyr, and exactly what you need if I had to guess. I’m her captain. Rez Trebax.”
She nodded politely as they made their way across the deck. “I’m called Euria.”
“Sure you are,” he grinned back over his shoulder. “Well, Euria, can I offer you a drink?”
“Wine if you have it,” she replied, a bit more authoritative as they found themselves on the other side of the captain’s cabin door. “You could also tell me what it is you’re actually after.”
The captain snorted as he poured her glass, still irritatingly unflappable. “Exactly what I told you, gorgeous. See, I’m a bit of a gambler, and I’ve got a feeling you might be my next big payout.” He slid the glass across the table with a wink. “Call it a hunch.”
Narcisse crossed her legs, picking up the glass with an elegant hand. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been making herself so obvious, but this little man was beginning to annoy her. “As if I would believe something so puerile.”
“Believe what you want,” Rez Trebax replied coolly, moving to pour himself something a bit stronger. “I go with my gut, and my gut says you’ve got plenty of coin.”
Well, if it was out in the open, then. “That depends on how much you want.”
“Two thousand now,” he said immediately, as if he’d over-rehearsed. “And another when we reach Wayrest. That is where you told that old Nord you were going, right?”
He really was a gambler, and this was a textbook bluff. Three thousand from a woman whose true identity he couldn’t even be sure of? No doubt he expected her to whittle that down a bit. Well, maybe it was his lucky day after all.
“You said you were a smuggler?” Her jade eyes met with the challenge in his gaze. “I can give you four thousand now, and upon reaching Wayrest you will turn back and move all of my more... sensitive belongings from my manse in this city to your ship. You will return to Wayrest, where I will be waiting with an additional eleven-thousand septims.”
Now it was his turn to look at her as if she’d gone mad. “So I guessed right, then? Merchant queen in disguise? What’s the cargo? Jewels? Spices?”
“Hardly anything so interesting,” she assured him, finger idly tracing the rim of her glass. “Dusty old books, mostly. And birds. They’ll be hungry. I’ll make sure you have instructions and supplies to keep them fed.”
He folded his hands. “Alright,” he replied after a beat. “My first mate hates birds, but alright. What else?”
“You’ll need to be sure you don’t take any new crew members aboard until this task is completed. I have some enemies who could pose a threat to my person as well as yours.”
She had to admit, his ability to keep his composure was rather commendable. “Assassins, then. Fair enough. What are we dealing with, here? Brotherhood? Morag Tong?”
“Daedric cultists. Close enough. There’s also the possibility the Dominion might be after me. Or vampires. Oh, and I couldn’t forget my dear family.”
And there, his unshakable demeanor slipped. “Who in Oblivion are you?”
This time, she was the one to wink. “Just a girl who’s never been particularly good at making friends. Oh, that reminds me, call me ‘gorgeous’ again and I’ll put a quarrel through your windpipe, dearest. The flattery is nice, but I could do without the excessive salivation.”
He chuckled. “Feisty, huh? I like that.”
“My partner wouldn’t,” she responded evenly. “Oh, yes, she’ll be joining us as well. The Dominion’s actually after her, not me, but you know how it is. Play your cards right, gambler, and she might have some lucrative work for you as well. We can always sort that out later, of course.”
In five minutes, Rez Trebax had gone from looking like an arrogant prick to looking like a prick who’d just been hit by a tornado. She rather approved of the change.
Narcisse Bossuet smiled, and extended a hand with all the poise of a proper Lord of Wayrest. “I don’t suppose we have a deal, then?”
She saw him hesitate for the first time, but he took her hand. “Yeah. We got a deal. I’ll have my first mate help you with your cargo. I reckon you two will get along just fine; he’s always talkin’ about shooting me in the neck, too.”
“Oh, delightful,” Narcisse beamed. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty to talk about, then.”
“I doubt it,” the Imperial groaned, rising from his seat. “The big guy isn’t exactly a great conversationalist.”
