Heart of Steel - Meljean Brook [101]
A short expedition, and much more lucrative than the current one. Though the sketch was a fake, Yasmeen’s gold had not been.
Had al-Amazigh discovered that he possessed a forgery? Had he heard of the sketch that Temür Agha had now . . . or, even if he had heard, did he think Archimedes had found two?
“Hassan,” she said, and he heard the roughness in her voice, the pain that must be lodged deep within. “How did al-Amazigh pay for this expedition? How did he pay for the marsouins?”
“He went to Port Fallow three months ago to sell the jewelry that I gave to him. Temür has been generous to me these many years. I had a small collection.”
A small collection wouldn’t amount to much—and probably not enough to fund an expedition. But the final connection slid into place. “Did he sell the jewelry through Franz Kessler?”
“That I do not know.”
“How long was he in Port Fallow?”
“A month or so.” Clearly troubled, he glanced from Archimedes to Yasmeen. “There is something here you have not said. Is this what you asked of Ollivier—about Lady Corsair?”
Her mouth tight, Yasmeen nodded.
“You believe al-Amazigh ordered it? That Bigor’s men carried it out?”
“Yes,” she said. “It begins to seem that way.”
He tapped the ends of his broad fingers together, his face thoughtful. “Will you kill them tonight?”
“I haven’t decided.” She banged her fist on the table. “Goddammit. If we were not aboard this ship, I wouldn’t hesitate.”
Because of the precarious tension within the crew, Archimedes realized—surprised, he had to admit, that it was even a consideration for her.
“I understand that this is not my place,” Hassan said carefully. “But I would ask that you wait. If they have no plans to kill you and your husband until after some treasure is secured, then you are safe until then. Perhaps, in the meantime, I can discover more about why Kareem has chosen this route.”
Archimedes wasn’t so certain. He cared much less about al-Amazigh’s plans than he did Yasmeen’s life. “And what if Ollivier gives us away?”
“Then I suspect Bigor will be surprised by your wife’s capabilities. You probably ought not to be with them by yourselves, however. Tomorrow morning, we will be over Brindisi.”
The site of their next search. “We’ll go down alone,” Archimedes said.
In their cabin, Yasmeen lit one of their few remaining cigarillos and paced while Archimedes settled onto the bottom bunk. Sleeping together now. That was all right. That was good. That was the only damn thing that was good—
Pain struck at her chest. She paced faster, but couldn’t outrun it. She dug her fingers into her hair, tried to stop it, but the agony only settled in her throat, welled tears in her eyes. Instead of standing there, shaking, she crushed out the cigarillo and slid in next to Archimedes, and he wrapped her in his arms as she cried silently against his throat.
He kissed the top of her head, simply held her until she stopped. “You wanted to kill them tonight.”
She wanted her crew back tonight. But she’d have settled for ripping out throats, tasting their blood and pain.
“Yes,” she said, and rolled onto her back, relit the cigarillo. She passed it to him when he came up on his elbow. “But I can be patient.”
Though he didn’t make a sound, she felt his laugh against her side. She narrowed her eyes at him.
“You doubt me?”
“Yes.”
“You’re wrong.” She plucked the cigarillo from his lips. “And you also take a very long time to pass this back.”
He grinned.
“I said that to make you laugh,” she told him. “You didn’t get the better of me.”
His smile became tender, and he brushed a stray hair from her forehead. “No. You have definitely gotten the better of me. This might be the wrong time to tell you, I