00.1 - The Blood Price Read Free Page B

that
minimizes such risk, but will still yield a handsome profit over time.”
    Provided my damned retainer doesn’t find some way to kill me between now and
then, Malus thought. “Show me.”
    “Well, to start with, with your father’s coin I was able to hire a good crew,
and outfit them with proper weapons and armour,” he began. “We’ve not enough men
to hazard a large human city or fortress, such as your older brother Bruglir
might, but there are any number of towns that would be easy pickings along the
Bretonnian coast.” Gul’s finger traced a long arc, dipping south of Ulthuan and
then north and east to the shores of the human kingdom. “We will avoid cities
like Bordeleaux or l’Anguille and strike at the small fishing towns that stretch
between them. Sweep in at midnight, kill any who resist, and cart everything
else back to the ship. Nothing left but ashes by morning.” Gul traced a
seemingly meandering route up the coastline, past l’Anguille and then east. “We
take a bite here and a bite there, always staying a few days ahead of the
Bretonnian forces. By late summer we could be at the inlet leading to
Marienburg, by which point our holds will be bursting, and it will be time to
head for home. After a brief stop at Karond Kar to unload our slaves, you would
arrive at Clar Karond a rich and successful young highborn.”
    Gul leaned back in his chair and folded his slim hands across his chest,
clearly pleased with himself.
    Malus scowled down at the map. “I see none of these small towns you speak of
on this map.”
    Gul chuckled. “Rest assured they are there, young captain. I’ve plied this
route many a time myself. Slow, perhaps, but safe and profitable. Just the sort
of thing to prove your worth to the nobles back at Hag Graef. So. What do you
say? Shall I tell Shebyl to chart the course?”
    The highborn thought it over. Near Marienburg by late summer, he thought.
Five months at sea, by the Dark Mother! He took a contemplative sip from his
cup.
    “No,” he said at last.
    Gul’s gleaming smile faltered. “What did you say, my lord?”
    “I’m here to make my reputation,” he said, “and I won’t go back to the Hag
after five long months smelling like a fishmonger. We’ve got a good ship and
good men, so let us take a prize that’s worthy of our mettle.” He glanced down
at the map and let his finger fall with a portentous thump.
    The ship’s master paled. “Ulthuan?” he stammered. “Surely you jest.”
    “Did I say something amusing, Master Gul?” the highborn said darkly.
    Gul managed an uneasy chuckle. “No doubt the young captain is aware that
Ulthuan is very well defended,” he began. “Its shores are constantly patrolled,
and our traitorous cousins have ships nearly as swift and deadly as our own. Not
even your older brother and his fleet have dared strike there.”
    Malus grinned mirthlessly. “Then I’ll truly have something to boast about when
I reach home,” he said. The highborn waved dismissively at the map. “Chart us a
course to take us close around the southern tip of the Blighted Isle, then on to
the west coast of Ulthuan,” he said. “That shouldn’t be too demanding, should it?
We’ll find a good-sized town and sack it, and make our fortunes in a single
stroke.”
    “But… you can’t do this!” Gul sputtered. His face was white as alabaster.
“It would be suicide! I forbid this!”
    “You may be the master of this ship, but for the duration of this voyage, I
am the captain,” Malus snarled. “And I know very well what my rights are
regarding mutineers.” He looked at the navigator. “Chart the course. Now.”
    “I…” Shebyl began, then recoiled at the look in Malus’ eyes. “Very well,
sir.”
    Malus nodded. “That’s more like it.” He drained the cup. “Good wine,” he said,
setting the goblet on the table. “Hopefully there’s more where that came
from.”
     
    Silar Thornblood was waiting for Malus when he