Book 1: The Rebirth of the Aztecs
Chapter 6 Part 3: A Trap for A Moral Rogue
“There’s my favorite marine playing pirate here to save me from all the attention of whores and desperate courtesans convinced of the story book endings with their knightly Baron in shining armor and a soft life at court,” the oversized noble said as he crashed into a luscious velvet couch with enough force to make the poor piece of furniture whine in pain with a series of tortured creeks.
With the doors shut a portal to another world shut with finality. A pocket dimension under where even sound and light obeyed its Black Hound master. Not a peep of the churning fans and engines could be heard behind the perfect sound proofing insulation. In the corner was a fireplace with crackling wood, and the sound of a violin playing Bach’s Air on the G String filtered through the air from camouflaged speakers. A welcome oasis from the noise and chaos of the party beyond.
Drake gave the porthole window a side glance before taking a slow graceful seat across the way from his current employer. He could see the faces of the red headed twins with knock them dead gorgeous bodies and tight black dresses who had been shadowing the Baron throughout the cruise. The pirate captain knew for a fact one of them was with the Inquisition as a double agent pretending to be selling out to the Yunwinadine Dominion looking to get extra pull within the High King’s court. She’d briefed the pirate captain after Beatrice and Don had cornered her when she’d been caught at a dead drop in port.
It was a good thing the Inquisition wasn’t as picky as the Royal Council on who or who wasn’t allowed to serve Catalina and the Kingdom of Heaven. If they hadn’t kept a few lifelines open for Drake to use in a pinch their asset would have been very scrumptious shark bait. As far as Stoneman was concerned he was the only one who did the spying on his boat.
The Baron had been in on the scheme as well, especially since wildman was sweet on the twin sister who the undercover Lady Inquisidor had brought with her. If Lady Charleene of the inquisition was a spider laying her web her sister was as pure as fluffy white snow and as innocent as babe in her mother’s womb. Lady Salina didn’t have a clue about her sister’s true purpose in the Baron’s entourage. Needless to say these were the type of femme fatales that most of the male persuasion fantasized about at night. Good breeding too being the daughters of the third earl of Southshire commander of the southern fortress wall made up of repurposed and militarized oil rigs blocking the channel between the island of St. Clemente and the mainland.
That was just a taste of the quality of female attention, both genuine and nefarious, being showered on the Black Baron these days. The man was practically glowing as he basked in the female desperation pressing in on all sides. Not that Drake necessarily blamed him, but the drama was stifling even at a distance.
“I had no idea you were so stressed my Baron, next time you’re a guest on my fancy tub I’ll make all the ladies stay in port. You must be exhausted Boss,” all the marines in the Black Hounds called their Baron “Boss”. It was a habit you didn’t break easily.
A dark cloud passed over San Tiro’s face as he stared at Drake. He was probably gauging how serious the pirate captain was. A second later both men laughed.
“You might just do it too, you rapscallion.”
“If I'm honest my Baron, I almost did, but that would’ve made a scene way more obvious than those hussies were making. Just marry the innocent redhead already, and make Earl Bishop the happiest father-in-law in the world.” Drake said just managing to hold back his irritation. The Baron had his faults like any other man, but his leadership on the battlefield made his proclivities and eccentricities easier to forgive than most. Still, drama, especially female drama funded by political interests was taxing on this pirate captain's patience. Especially when on his own boat.
“Oh, I didn’t realize pirates were paradigms of morality. When is the wedding my favorite rogue?”
“Wedding?”
“I and everyone with half a mind and more than a cavernous hole between their thighs know what goes on in your pretty first officer’s cabin at night.” Drake flinched at the obvious statement. He was a rogue now, a pirate and a ne’er-do-well. This shouldn’t bother him. That’s what he kept telling himself. The small town farm boy who still read his Bible on his nightstand every night in between bloodlettings on the high seas was having trouble swallowing the reality nonetheless. Besides, there was an obvious comeback here.
“My indiscretions don’t throw the top military airship supplier of the Golden Kingdoms into disarray last I checked Boss.”
“Ha! A patriotic angle. That wasn’t the words I heard at the end of your court martial. Something about how we could all burn for our pettiness. A very nice poetic speech that my tongue can’t quite wrap itself around,” the Baron stretched to his full girth while giving his once favorite marine and now favorite rogue a broad grin. The man always knew how to get under Drake’s skin. Worse, the Boss was usually right even as he chased skirts outside of strategy meetings and airship ports. The High King was also right. They needed this Baron to make some heirs before his genes were lost to time in its kiddy pool of blood and lost potential. St. Clemente was always going to need a strong arm to protect the southern flanks.
“I suppose you can’t turn it off with a flip of a switch. Still, I don’t think I'm coming to save Baron San Rollo these days.”
“And the good people of Santa Rosa?”
“Should’ve had a better baron. Which is why this pirate is worried for the good people of St. Clemente. End the party for their sake.”
“I’m having far too much fun to do that, my ever moral rogue. Don’t you worry. Even I will tire of this game with the Inquisition getting antsy. But I’ll tell you what,” Drake tensed at the change of tone as the Boss spoke. The marine in him remembered the last time he’d seen the mischief in those gray eyes of his. Half the coast of old Mexico burned after that misadventure.
“The day you marry that sweet little first officer of yours is the day I announce my own ending to my bachelor ways. Since you’re so worried about a kingdom that has not just abandoned you, but ejected you with prejudice on pain of death you won’t worry about sacrificing a little for the fatherland.”
“That rat bastard,” Drake thought as he glared back at the beaming Baron.
The Story Will Continue Every Monday
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