“Who told you your mother died?” I asked as I climbed down from my horse.
“What the fuck difference does it make?”
“Manners, hot stuff,” Jane said warningly.
He sighed and nodded. “The dog under the porch, who do you think? The folks who raised me.”
“What did they tell you about your father?”
He turned the bucket over, sat on it, and glared up at us from under wet strands of hair. “Why do you care?”
“We’re looking for someone.”
“My dad?”
“Maybe.”
“He was a pirate who fucked my mom and left her to deal with the consequences. Or, if you take the other side, she was a witch who made a nice young sailor turn to piracy to keep her in gold and jewels. It’s for damn sure everyone in Watchorn believes one story or the other. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”
“Yeah, you’re a no-good bastard either way,” the girl said, and slammed the door.
Tew laughed harshly. “Guess that makes it unanimous.” I held out a coin. “If you know anything else, I’m willing to pay for it.”
Jane shook her head at me. “Where do you keep getting those? Do you pull them out of your ass?”
I ignored her and waited for Tew’s reaction. He stared at the coin like a bird hypnotized by a snake, seeing the possibilities in it. He said, “They tell me my father was Black Edward Tew. People who knew him say I look just like him. It doesn’t make it easy around here.”
Jane asked, “Why do you stay?”
“I got my reasons,” he muttered.
“Do you have any idea,” I asked, “where your father is?” Before he could answer, a small boy emerged from the back of the house, brandishing a sharpened stick. He was barefoot, dressed in tattered clothes, and looked maybe five years old.
“Twouble, Dad?” he said, staring fearlessly at us.
Immediately Tew’s whole demeanor changed. He sat up straight and said calmly, “No, son, just visitors. C’mere.” The boy eased over, keeping the sharp end of his stick pointed our way. “This is my son, Sido. Say hello, son.”
“Hi,” the boy said flatly.
Tew kissed the boy’s dirty cheek. “I’ll be done here in a minute. Go back inside and finish your lunch, okay?”
“You sure you don’t need me?” Sido asked seriously. Tew smiled. “I probably do, but you need your lunch more so you can be big and strong. I’ll be along, don’t worry.” The boy went back inside through the front door, giving us his best tough-guy look the whole way. When he was gone, Tew said, “No need for him to see you kill me, is there?”
“We’re not here to kill you,” Jane said.
“Then what do you want?”
“Anything you know about your father,” I said, and waved the coin for emphasis. “Like we keep saying.”
“And his treasure,” Jane added. I stared javelins at her. “I don’t suppose he ever stops by for a father-son chat when he’s in port?” I asked.
Tew laughed. “Yeah, sure. He brings me presents from all over the world. One day I’ll sail as his first mate.”
I fought not to smile. His sarcasm sounded just like his mother. “What about the Dirnay family? Do you know them?”
“Is this a trick question?” he snapped. When I didn’t answer, he said, “They’re the jerks who raised me. Look, I got nothing to add. Neither one of my parents stuck around to change my diapers or watch my first steps or teach me a goddamn thing.” He stood, adjusted his clothes, and with as much dignity as he could muster, said, “And you can shove that money back where she said you found it.”
With that, he went inside and slammed the door. The bar slid into its slot across it.
Jane chuckled. “That was pointless.”
“No, it wasn’t.” I put the coin on the middle of the top step, careful to avoid the smeared manure. “We know what Edward Tew looks like now.”
“We do?”
“Junior in there didn’t get that cleft chin and blue eyes from Angelina.”
“Wonder what he did get?”
“Definitely the warmth,” I said as I got back on my horse. Jane laughed as she did the same. “So now what, boss?”
“Your friend Racko sounded pretty sure Black Edward was dead. He implied it was a well-known story.”
“Some of the other guys disagreed.”
“Yeah. I think we need to find a more reliable source.” She chuckled. “A more reliable source for pirate gossip?”
“Pirate history. I want to know what happened to Black Edward and why some people think he’s dead. There must be a better authority than some drunks in a tavern. Maybe the Society of Scribes, or some royal archivist somewhere.”
Jane looked down thoughtfully. “There is. It’s a bit of a ride, but we don’t seem to be in a hurry.”
“Who?”
She said in a whisper, “The Sea Hawk.”
I repeated, “Who?”
She snorted at my lack of knowledge. “You land crabs. I mean Rody Hawk. Captain Hawk of the Poison. ”
I knew that name, all right, and it sent a rush of apprehension up my spine. I’d heard all the stories about this particular scourge of the seas, and if only a fraction of them were true, Hawk was the worst of the worst. “I thought he was dead, too.”
“See? You can’t trust any stories about a pirate’s death. Rody Hawk has enough treasure hidden to buy Langlade and most of Algoma for dessert. He’s in prison in Shawano until he tells where it is, or dies, whichever comes first.”
“How do you know so much about him?”
She grinned triumphantly. “Because I’m the one who caught him.”
Chapter Five
Shawano was six days’ ride from Watchorn. For a guy looking for a pirate, I was spending an awful lot of time in the saddle.
Two nights we stayed at inns, but the rest we camped along the way. The third night I spotted another fire behind us, and crept back to check it out. Granted, it could have been anyone who happened to be going the same way, but the hackles on my neck told me otherwise. By the time I got there, the fire was out and the camp abandoned. Whoever it was didn’t show themselves again.
The prison outside Mosinee, capital city of Shawano, was known as “the pirates’ graveyard,” because if a pirate was captured and not executed, he ended up here. After a few weeks in this facility, most pirates would welcome being hanged, their tarred corpses displayed as a warning. The prison was smack in the middle of a stretch of desert, isolated by a range of low mountains. On the other side of these slopes stretched miles of verdant countryside leading down to Mosinee and the ocean. Here, though, there was nothing but heat, dryness, and death. For a man of the sea, there could be no closer approximation to hell.
Only one road led to the pirates’ graveyard, and it ran straight across the open desert. This made sense tactically, since no one could approach without being seen. I’d picked up a wide-brimmed straw hat for the occasion, but this early in the morning, it wasn’t needed. Some weird weather inversion had drawn moisture across the mountains and bathed the area in a heavy mist. It wouldn’t last, but while it did, the temperature was almost pleasant.
Queen Remy of Mosinee led the international co alition that supported and funded the Anti-Freebootery Guild. Her goal was to make it more lucrative for these sea bandits to turn honest than to keep raiding ships, and it worked for a lot of them. I didn’t know the exact circumstances that turned Jane from pirate to pirate hunter, but she became as legendary fighting on the right side as she had on the wrong. I also didn’t know what had caused her to leave the sea entirely and turn land- bound sword jockey, but I could accept that none of it was my business. She never asked where I’d come from, either.
The prison walls were twenty feet high, with guards stationed at each corner. The only thing that rose higher was a single round tower, stretching into the mist so that we couldn’t see the top. Jane looked up at the tower and sighed wistfully.