Page 5 of Valour

Hester smiled and quickened her step towards The Ship’s Cat, the scent of coffee and eggs mingling with the delicious bacon the closer she got. She stepped inside the tavern, mouth watering.

The place was busy with patrons eating breakfast, waitresses hurrying between the tables. Cat paintings crowded the walls around the taproom.

“Hester,” the landlord said, eyeing her from behind the bar where he drew on a pipe, smoke rings puffing into the air above his head. “His Lordship told me not to serve you until you paid him his coin.”

She scoffed. “Nonsense. I’ll have two black coffees and two breakfasts.” Hester hopped onto a stool in front of the landlord and gave him her most charming smile. It was a shame her magic only affected the weather and couldn’t be used to conjure food. Her belly growled. “Would you let a woman starve?”

“His Lordship was very exacting in his instructions. I’d tell you to try somewhere else, but we’ve all had the same message.”

Hester’s jaw dropped. This was surely a joke. “Come now, Sam…it is Sam, isn’t it?”

“Peter.”

“Peter,” she crooned. “He need not find out.” Surely he wouldn’t be able to resist her charm. Men rarely could. Unless they were that waste-of-space excuse for a Pirate Lord.

Peter pointed towards the door, his jaw set. “Not till His Lordship allows it.”

Hester stared at him, hands gripping the edge of the bar until her knuckles turned white. How dare Septimus ban the landlords from serving her? She got down from the stool and swaggered to the door, the cats all leering down at her from their canvases.

“I’ll remember this, Peter,” she threatened, wagging her finger at him.

“Like you remembered my name?”

Hester chortled. She could appreciate a quick comeback. And besides, a plan was already taking shape in her mind. She slipped out, letting the door slam behind her, the glass rattling in its panes.

Fliss was still shouting on the corner.

Hester stalked over. “He banned them from serving me!” She raked a hand through her hair. “His Lordship has some nerve, and no mistake. He’ll pay for this.”

Fliss grimaced. “Remember that time last year when you angered him? That’s how you ended up needing that gold tooth.”

Hester snorted and folded her arms. “I like my gold tooth. Don’t you think it suits me?” She flashed Fliss a wide smile, the tooth in question shining, and Fliss rolled her eyes.

“Sometimes, I believe you have no good sense whatsoever,” Fliss muttered. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To visit Mei.” Hester marched off into the crowds.

Fliss ran to catch up. “Whatever for?”

Hester grinned. “You’ll see when we get there.” It never paid to tell Fliss her plans until the very last moment.

Reaching the end of the market square, Hester pushed open the door to a small shop. The walls were lined with stylised artwork. Pin-up girls, sailors, swallows, ships. A large oil painting of a Chinese junk boat hung in the centre of them all. The smell of spices wafted from down the stairs, from the flat above the shop. A woman with long, black hair sat on a stool bent over a sailor’s arm, stabbing a design into his skin with a small needle.

The artist didn’t look up from her work, but said in a drawl, “Hester, Hester, Hester. What brings you here?”

Hester leant over to study the tattoo, a shadow falling over the man’s arm. Mei fixed her with a look that promised a swift death if she did not move.

Trying not to smirk, Hester withdrew. “I’d like to call in that favour you owe me.”

“Favour?” Mei sat back, wiping down the sailor’s arm with a wet towel and admiring her handiwork. She raised dark eyes to Hester’s. “I recall no favour being owed.”

“You don’t remember? I’m sure there was something…”

“Just spit it out and tell me what you want.”

Hester glanced at Fliss. “I’d like a new tattoo.”

A muscle in Fliss’s jaw ticked.