The barkeep nodded and stepped into the kitchen briefly. Gideon did not remove his hood. The more mysterious and secretive they appeared the less likely anyone would come bothering them. When the man returned, he brought with him the meat, bread, cheese, and water. It all smelled wonderful, and Ethan dug right in.
“My friend and I are looking for passage across the Azure,” Gideon said.
The barkeep leaned in with his elbow on the countertop. “And what might your destination be?”
“It might be Emmanuel,” Gideon said, his voice very low so that only the barkeep could hear him.
The man’s eyes flicked side to side before he answered. “I might be able to recommend someone to you.”
Gideon slapped a copper on the counter. The man snapped it up quickly before continuing. “There’s a certain captain whose vessel is taking on provisions for a journey across the Azure two days from now. I could make the arrangements for you, if you like.”
Gideon slid another silver coin across the mahogany. The man slapped his hand down upon it, but when he raised it again, the coin was gone. He looked at Gideon and found him twirling the piece of money between his fingers playfully. “When services are performed to my liking,” he said.
The man gave him the slightest sneer, watching the shiny silver twirling through Gideon’s fingers. “I’ll make the arrangements personally,” he said. From the shadows across the room, several men watched as Gideon tucked the money back in the purse underneath his cloak.
Ethan continued to wolf down the food. Gideon started slicing a piece of the cheese for himself, but stopped in mid-cut. Movement from behind them caught his attention. The air shifted. He felt vibrations, heard creaks in the flooring. Several men walked toward them from a table across the room.
Gideon did not react, did not lower his hood, but he did remove the knife from the block of cheese, placing it under his cloak. Gideon watched Ethan eyes. The boy had a better view of what was coming. Ethan had stopped chewing and was looking at the men as they approached.
“How many?” Gideon whispered
“Four.”
“Stay calm. I’ll handle it,” he said. Gideon remained cool and collected. His training as a warrior-priest had taught him many things. He knew more than one hundred ways to kill a man and many more ways to place someone in gut-wrenching pain, forcing their submission.
The only thing he wondered was how seriously these men felt about their reasons for intruding. Gideon supposed they had seen the money and wanted it. Silver coins were hard to come by these days and someone with an apparent abundance of them, in a place like the Weary Traveler Inn, was just asking for trouble.
In a way, Gideon had hoped this might happen. He wanted everyone to know to keep their distance. Therefore, it was helpful for someone to volunteer and prove his point. Whoever these four gentlemen were, they had just made a bad choice.
One of the men came over and stood behind Ethan. He wore a beard with plenty of gray streaking through it. He was dressed like a mariner, probably a pirate, and his portly belly placed a strain on his wide belt and steel buckle. Ethan glanced back at the man, but stayed calm as Gideon had instructed. The man leered maniacally at the boy, waiting.
The other three men stood behind Gideon. They could not see his face, could not tell how young he actually was. If they had, it would have only made matters progress more swiftly. They would’ve supposed a man as young as Gideon to be easy prey-an unwise assumption.
The men flanking Gideon were average pirates, not very clean, personal grooming not high on their list of priorities. One wore a bicorn hat. The other was almost bald. Both men were missing a fair number of their original teeth, and many others looked in need of falling out.
The leader wore a captain’s tricorn hat with a scarlet, velveteen waistcoat that was cleaner than one might expect with a brace of pistols extending from shoulder to hip. A cutlass dangled in a scabbard from his left hip and his right hand was already patting a dagger in his belt, just beneath his jacket.
“I see you ‘ave some shiny silver pretties over ‘ere,” the pirate captain said. His voice bellowed deep and menacing. Obviously, he knew how to intimidate folk, using it to his advantage.
Gideon whispered a prayer under his breath. He always did at times like this. When he turned to face the men, Gideon noticed surprise light on their faces, their smiles growing noticeably. He was younger than they had expected and it bolstered their confidence. This would be like taking candy from a baby.
The captain showed his unkempt smile. “Well now, you lads just ‘and over that purse and we’ll be on our way. No need in either of you gettin ‘urt.”
“No,” Gideon said. The pirate captain had not expected to hear that word. It was evidently rare someone dared say it to him-the sort of word that got a man keelhauled.
Anger washed over the captain’s face, while surprise covered the faces of his men. The captain grabbed the dagger he had been petting beneath the left flap of his waistcoat, loosing the weapon. He tried to bring it down in his right hand to put a quick end to the miserable whelp standing before him.
Gideon moved as fluidly as water through a pipe, following a pre-plotted course without need of thought. He caught the captain’s hand inside his wrist, rotating it outward while forcing the whole arm down. From underneath his cloak, Gideon’s left knee bent up to meet the captain’s elbow.
The limb cracked at the joint. With his right hand, Gideon pulled one of the captain’s pistols from the brace across his chest. Gideon cocked the hammer as his arm extended in the direction of the pirate to his right, bringing the barrel right up under the man’s chin before the pirate even realized what was happening.
“Tell them to stand down,” Gideon said. He still had a hold on the captain’s wrist, twisting the broken arm to emphasize his point.
The captain howled in pain, just barely able to voice the order as tears streaked through the dirt on his face. “STAND DOWN! STAND DOWN!”
In a potentially deadly situation, no one had died. The two men not encumbered by the priest had not even had time to blink before the situation completely turned from their advantage to their captain’s heavy-breathed begging. They both stood stunned.
“Relieve these men of their weapons, Ethan,” Gideon said.
Ethan happily complied, removing every weapon from the men he could find, including the captain’s dagger, which had fallen on the floor. When Ethan had finished, a fair pile of weapons sat on the bar next to their food.
None of the other patrons moved. No one appeared eager to come to these pirates’ rescue. Gideon gave another slight twist as he leaned into the pirate captain’s ear. “If I were you, sir, I would have a physician take a look at this arm. It will need to be set quickly for good healing.”
The captain gritted his teeth, sweating profusely, which only exacerbated the odor in the Weary Traveler Inn. Gideon let him go as the pirates all backed away under the stare of Gideon’s pistol. Two of his men attempted to help their captain, but he refused. “Leave off, you gutter rats! Don’t touch it,” he said, holding the arm protectively against his body. He staggered toward the door with his men following. “This isn’t over, boy,” he spat. The heavy door closed after them with a loud bang.
Gideon procured the brace of pistols for himself and handed Ethan the captain’s cutlass and scabbard. The rest he pushed across the bar toward the keeper who had only just reemerged from kitchen. “Could you take care of these for me?” Gideon said, gesturing toward the pile.
“Oh yes, sir,” the barkeep said, remembering the silver piece he had been promised. The barkeep began pulling the weapons off the mahogany bar top, placing them below.
“We’ll take the rest of our meal in our room,” Gideon said.