Pirate Read Free

still form. Too still. William feared the king might be dead by now. But as he neared, he saw his chest rise and fall with each shallow breath. “My liege.” William took to his knee at the king’s bedside, bowing his head. “I have failed you.”
    The king’s eyes opened slightly. A sheen of perspiration covered his brow. “How so?”
    â€œWhat I have to say is best told in private.”
    King John said nothing at first, just stared at William. Then, a slight flick of his wrist. “Be gone. All.”
    William waited until the tent was cleared. And, even then, he was loath to impart the news. “I failed to recognize a traitor in your midst. Perhaps not the only one. Robert de Braose. He told me you were dying. Before he possibly could have heard.”
    â€œDysentery.”
    â€œI fear not.”
    The king closed his eyes, and for a moment William worried that he would not waken. “Who would do this?”
    â€œThat, I do not know. But whoever has worked this evil, theyknow of the royal treasure you bring with you. It is meant to finance Prince Louis’s claim on the English throne. They know you are moving it. Your illness was to be the distraction needed so that on the morrow they could take it.”
    â€œMy son . . .” The king reached out, grasped at William’s hand, his grip weak, feverish. “What of Henry?”
    â€œHe is safe. I will guard him with my life.” The king’s oldest son, a mere lad of nine, was innocent of the dishonesty and treachery of the last several kings—his father and all his relatives included. If there was to be any hope for England, it would be through a monarch who was untouched by greed and murder. “I fear that the temptation of such a treasure will be too much for the young prince’s reign.”
    â€œHe will need all of my treasure to finance his retribution. To win back our lands.”
    â€œMy liege. If I may be frank. As long as that treasure exists, there will be those who want nothing more than to possess it. Louis of France is only the first of many. And lest you forget, the rebel barons you have fought against these past several months cannot be trusted. Not while the lure of gold and riches tempts them.” He waited a moment to make sure his words were heard and understood. “A poor kingdom is far less desirable. Even more important, a young king barely old enough to rule a poor kingdom is no longer a threat . . .”
    â€œWhat are you saying?”
    â€œWhat if that treasure was lost this night while we were trying to move it through the quicksand of the fens? If you lose the treasure, you lose your son’s enemies.”
    The king remained silent, his breathing shallow.
    â€œYou are dying, sire.” Though he didn’t want to believe, he knew the words were true. This was no dysentery. He’d seen it before. A slow poison that ate away at the gut. The king would last perhaps a week or more, his pain excruciating while he waited—nay, prayed for death. “This way, we know young Henry will be safe.”
    â€œAnd if my son should need the treasure? When he is older?”
    â€œHe won’t. As long as it remains lost, he will be safe.”
    It was several long seconds before the king answered. “See that it is done.”

One

    San Francisco, California
    Present day
    S am and Remi Fargo weaved their way around the tourists crowding the sidewalk. Once they were through the green pagoda-style gateway of Chinatown, the throng much thinner, Remi checked the map on her cell phone. “I have a feeling we took a wrong turn somewhere.”
    â€œTo that restaurant,” Sam replied, removing his revered panama hat. “A tourist trap, if I ever saw one.”
    She glanced at her husband, watching as he ran his fingers through his sun-streaked brown hair. He stood over a head taller than Remi, with broad shoulders and an athletic