Blackveil
Page 53
Amberhill picked at his own breakfast, amazed at Yap’s capacity for food and kauv. Time after time Mistress Landen bustled out of the kitchen with more food and refills.
“I feel fresh as a new baby,” Yap said. He passed his hand over what remained of his hair. “Thought yer man Brigham was gonna scrape my hide right off my bones. I wouldn’t wanna be on his bad side.”
“No, indeed,” Amberhill murmured, sipping his kauv. Usually he took it with sugar and cream, but somehow he required it rather stronger this morning. “I have set aside some clothes for you to try on.”
“That is most generous, sir. This has been a most wonderful morning. Keeler wouldn’t believe it.”
Amberhill raised his eyebrows. Certainly Keeler would not consider it a wonderful morning considering his bones now rested in the Egg Street ossuary, but Yap appeared entirely undismayed by the absence of his former companion.
Once Yap filled himself to capacity, leaving both Amberhill and Mistress Landen in awe, Amberhill took him up to Morry’s room and helped him change into the clothes he’d picked out. Before Yap pulled on the shirt, Amberhill espied old lash marks on the pirate’s back; so many that there were more scars than unmarred flesh. Yap might be a cheerful fellow now, but it did not mean his life as a seaman had been easy or lighthearted. Pirates could be particularly merciless in the punishments they doled out.
The clothes were close to bursting and too long in both sleeve and pant, but Yap was undismayed. “These are very fine, sir,” he said. “I’ve worn none finer.” He gazed at himself in Morry’s mirror from all angles.
Amberhill rubbed his chin. He could get this ensemble, and Morry’s other clothes, let out and hemmed, and have Yap measured for new pieces.
When they were downstairs in the entry hall once more, Yap whirled this way and that to see how the cloak flowed around him. Amberhill narrowed his eyes. There was more beneath the cloak than just Yap.
“Well, I’ll be thanking ya for yer kindness, sir, but I ’spect you’ve had enough of old Yap for now. I will take my payment and leave.”
“Where will you go?” Amberhill asked, playing along with Yap’s intent for the moment.
Yap shrugged. “Where there be ships. I’m a seaman. I don’ know nothing else, sir.”
Amberhill dropped four silvers into Yap’s hand, and the pirate gasped. “That ... that is very generous, sir. I thank ya. And now, good-bye.”
When Yap turned for the door, there was a metallic flash from beneath his cloak that was not the coins. Amberhill grabbed Yap’s arm, spinning him around.
“Mister Yap, I have been exceedingly generous with you, as you have noted more than once. But now you insult me.”
“Eh?”
“What are you concealing beneath the cloak?”
“What? Why... why nothing, sir!” But Yap’s blush showed otherwise.
Amberhill struck viper-fast, grabbing a pair of silver candlesticks from Yap’s hands.
“These are nothing?” Amberhill demanded. “Empty your pockets.” When Yap just gaped at him, he said in a low threatening voice, “Empty your pockets.”
Yap gulped, then started turning out his pockets, producing a spoon, an ornate letter opener, and a pair of Morry’s gold cufflinks.
Amberhill swiped the cufflinks from him. Anger grew in him like a fever. The candlesticks and other trinkets were negligible, but the cufflinks, that was a different matter. “You do not deserve the clothes you now wear. They belonged to a good, honest man. A father he was to me. You dishonor him.”
Yap backed away, visibly trembling.
Amberhill paused, breathing hard. The heat of anger turned to a sharp, cold razor. “And if you are stupid enough to steal from a master thief, then maybe I should turn you out in only the skin you were born in.”
Yap’s eyes went wide and were made grotesque by the cracked lenses of his specs.
Amberhill suddenly felt terribly exhausted. Exhausted and a hundred years old. Seeing Yap in Morry’s old things had chafed a much too recent wound, rubbed it raw and bleeding. He licked his lips. Forced himself to calm. He straightened and passed his hand over his eyes. “You will not be stealing from me again, will you Mister Yap.”
“You won’ kill me, sir, will ya?” came the plaintive question.
Amberhill frowned. By all the gods, the pirate was close to weeping. He’d been broken at some point in his life. Amberhill almost pitied him. Almost, but not enough to prevent him from taking advantage of the pirate’s shattered spirit.
When Amberhill failed to immediately provide an answer, Yap backed away, holding out the items he had stolen, as well as the four silvers that were his payment. “Please, sir, take ’em back. Please don’ kill me. I’ll leave yer things and leave ya be.”
“The silvers are yours,” Amberhill said. “Unlike the other items, I gave them to you. You will assure me, however, they will not be spent on liquor. I don’t need men in my employ to be drunk.”
“I don’ ... I don’ follow, sir. You won’ kill me?”
“You said you were bound to go back to sea.”
“Aye, but—”
“I, too, am going to sea. On a voyage, Mister Yap. I need someone with your ... expertise to go with me.”
Yap stood a little straighter, then gazed down. Amberhill followed his gaze to his own hand, to where the dragon ring resided on his finger. Was it his imagination, or did the ruby pulse for just a moment? He thought he felt the breath of the sea against his face.
“I feel fresh as a new baby,” Yap said. He passed his hand over what remained of his hair. “Thought yer man Brigham was gonna scrape my hide right off my bones. I wouldn’t wanna be on his bad side.”
“No, indeed,” Amberhill murmured, sipping his kauv. Usually he took it with sugar and cream, but somehow he required it rather stronger this morning. “I have set aside some clothes for you to try on.”
“That is most generous, sir. This has been a most wonderful morning. Keeler wouldn’t believe it.”
Amberhill raised his eyebrows. Certainly Keeler would not consider it a wonderful morning considering his bones now rested in the Egg Street ossuary, but Yap appeared entirely undismayed by the absence of his former companion.
Once Yap filled himself to capacity, leaving both Amberhill and Mistress Landen in awe, Amberhill took him up to Morry’s room and helped him change into the clothes he’d picked out. Before Yap pulled on the shirt, Amberhill espied old lash marks on the pirate’s back; so many that there were more scars than unmarred flesh. Yap might be a cheerful fellow now, but it did not mean his life as a seaman had been easy or lighthearted. Pirates could be particularly merciless in the punishments they doled out.
The clothes were close to bursting and too long in both sleeve and pant, but Yap was undismayed. “These are very fine, sir,” he said. “I’ve worn none finer.” He gazed at himself in Morry’s mirror from all angles.
Amberhill rubbed his chin. He could get this ensemble, and Morry’s other clothes, let out and hemmed, and have Yap measured for new pieces.
When they were downstairs in the entry hall once more, Yap whirled this way and that to see how the cloak flowed around him. Amberhill narrowed his eyes. There was more beneath the cloak than just Yap.
“Well, I’ll be thanking ya for yer kindness, sir, but I ’spect you’ve had enough of old Yap for now. I will take my payment and leave.”
“Where will you go?” Amberhill asked, playing along with Yap’s intent for the moment.
Yap shrugged. “Where there be ships. I’m a seaman. I don’ know nothing else, sir.”
Amberhill dropped four silvers into Yap’s hand, and the pirate gasped. “That ... that is very generous, sir. I thank ya. And now, good-bye.”
When Yap turned for the door, there was a metallic flash from beneath his cloak that was not the coins. Amberhill grabbed Yap’s arm, spinning him around.
“Mister Yap, I have been exceedingly generous with you, as you have noted more than once. But now you insult me.”
“Eh?”
“What are you concealing beneath the cloak?”
“What? Why... why nothing, sir!” But Yap’s blush showed otherwise.
Amberhill struck viper-fast, grabbing a pair of silver candlesticks from Yap’s hands.
“These are nothing?” Amberhill demanded. “Empty your pockets.” When Yap just gaped at him, he said in a low threatening voice, “Empty your pockets.”
Yap gulped, then started turning out his pockets, producing a spoon, an ornate letter opener, and a pair of Morry’s gold cufflinks.
Amberhill swiped the cufflinks from him. Anger grew in him like a fever. The candlesticks and other trinkets were negligible, but the cufflinks, that was a different matter. “You do not deserve the clothes you now wear. They belonged to a good, honest man. A father he was to me. You dishonor him.”
Yap backed away, visibly trembling.
Amberhill paused, breathing hard. The heat of anger turned to a sharp, cold razor. “And if you are stupid enough to steal from a master thief, then maybe I should turn you out in only the skin you were born in.”
Yap’s eyes went wide and were made grotesque by the cracked lenses of his specs.
Amberhill suddenly felt terribly exhausted. Exhausted and a hundred years old. Seeing Yap in Morry’s old things had chafed a much too recent wound, rubbed it raw and bleeding. He licked his lips. Forced himself to calm. He straightened and passed his hand over his eyes. “You will not be stealing from me again, will you Mister Yap.”
“You won’ kill me, sir, will ya?” came the plaintive question.
Amberhill frowned. By all the gods, the pirate was close to weeping. He’d been broken at some point in his life. Amberhill almost pitied him. Almost, but not enough to prevent him from taking advantage of the pirate’s shattered spirit.
When Amberhill failed to immediately provide an answer, Yap backed away, holding out the items he had stolen, as well as the four silvers that were his payment. “Please, sir, take ’em back. Please don’ kill me. I’ll leave yer things and leave ya be.”
“The silvers are yours,” Amberhill said. “Unlike the other items, I gave them to you. You will assure me, however, they will not be spent on liquor. I don’t need men in my employ to be drunk.”
“I don’ ... I don’ follow, sir. You won’ kill me?”
“You said you were bound to go back to sea.”
“Aye, but—”
“I, too, am going to sea. On a voyage, Mister Yap. I need someone with your ... expertise to go with me.”
Yap stood a little straighter, then gazed down. Amberhill followed his gaze to his own hand, to where the dragon ring resided on his finger. Was it his imagination, or did the ruby pulse for just a moment? He thought he felt the breath of the sea against his face.
