She smiled as if her ability to be two steps ahead thrilled her. “I’m not as ignorant as that merchant. If he’d known who you were, he’d have brought your head to Mekës.”
Reid pursed his lips. The warmth started to seep into his body, providing a disarming relief he was suddenly terrified to lose. “Is that your plan? To turn us over to Asterya?”
Leaning back, the pirate held his eyes firmly as she said, “I would rather set myself on fire than give that empire something it craves.”
Perhaps she was closer to an ally than Reid thought. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile. “If you know who I am, then you know I can make good on my deal.”
She tilted her head. “Can you?”
“I told you: Name your price.”
She gestured to the chair in front of her desk. “Take a seat.”
Reid settled in as the pirate’s knife clattered on the desk. She used a torn green cloth to wipe her hands of the acrid-smelling polish covering her fingers, then tossed it down next to the knife. “Your blades must be wrecked,” she said, extending a hand.
“Are you asking me to hand over my weapons?”
She gave a one-sided grin. “You’re smarter than you look.”
Reid scoffed, crossing his arms, waiting for her to continue speaking. Instead, she passed the polish and the green cloth to him. “Have at it yourself, then.”
He slid a knife from his belt and began to polish it, waiting patiently for her to tell him what she wanted.
For a long moment she was quiet, discerning. It reminded him of the times he had sat in silence, waiting for Vaasa to collect her thoughts and tell him something worth hearing. He had never pushed her into speaking, but it was a testament of patience, just like waiting for this pirate was now.
She let out a sigh. “I want a pardon.”
Reid looked up through his lashes, only taking his gaze off his weapon for a moment. “I’ll give you letters of marque. You can pirate the rivers all you wish.”
“It’s not for me,” she clarified. “And I don’t need some useless document giving me permission to do what I already do. I need an Icrurian pardon for someone; he will need asylum.”
“Why?”
“Six months ago, my brother was imprisoned by Dominik Kozár.”
Reid’s hand didn’t miss a beat as he continued to work the polish into the blade, yet his mind reeled. She was asking for a pardon for her brother—a seemingly selfless act. It contradicted his initial impression of her. “Done.”
She quirked a brow. “You don’t even know what his crime was.”
With a shrug of his left shoulder, Reid said, “I don’t need to. Done. What else do you want?”
The pirate pursed her full lips. “I need help freeing him. I know a lord who has a connection to the prison, but it’s going to cost far more than I can ask my crew to afford. That’s where you come in.”
Reid ran his tongue along his teeth, but the truth was that he didn’t care what it cost. He set down the green cloth, still holding his blade in his hand. “Give me a figure.”
“I want access to your salt.”
Reid remained composed, trying not to give his shock away too quickly. These sorts of deals were not his strength; he did far better with a battlefield than he did the economy. But his predecessor had laid a blueprint he could follow. He could, at least in his mind, pretend to be Marc. The man’s impassive face shone behind Reid’s eyes. That was one of the ways Reid had gotten through the more difficult economic decisions in the past five years—he asked himself what Marc would have done.
“Access to my salt?” Reid asked.
“A line of trade will be enough to sate the lord I’d like to work with,” the pirate confirmed. “He has a friend who works closelywith the lord of the prison. I’m confident he can get us answers about how to break in, perhaps even assistance from his men.”
Reid was not usually one to make a false deal or bargain something he didn’t actually intend to give. Truthfully, he had no interest in working with the lord in question, though he needn’t say as much. This deal was temporary. Icruria couldn’t guide forces through the Loursevain Gap just yet, but Reid believed that someday they would. Someday soon. And when that happened, when Asterya finally fell, he saw no need to keep delivering salt to some lord he would inevitably remove.
For now, Reid had one goal, and one goal only: to get his wife back. Whatever it took to accomplish that goal was worth doing. “Fine. I’ll facilitate some kind of trade agreement.”
The pirate gave a firm nod. “I have one more demand.”
