Retribution Falls - Chris Wooding [171]
In the few moments before the cargo ramp opened, he belatedly remembered that Gallian Thade had been killed at Mortengrace. That meant Amalicia was free from the hermitage where she’d been imprisoned. Free, and unbearably rich.
Damn it, I should have just married her when I had the chance, he thought.
Then he remembered that Trinica Dracken had also been the daughter of an enormously rich businessman, and he’d been only moments from making himself a part of that inheritance. He swore under his breath.
Damn it, I should have married her too!
By the time they went rushing down the cargo ramp and out into Retribution Falls, Frey was quite eager to shoot someone.
Chapter Thirty-seven
TREASURE HUNT—HARKINS GETS INTO TROUBLE—ORKMUND AGAIN
irates and whores ran in panic across the square, heads covered against the thundering concussions and the threat of falling rubble. With most aircraft already in the air or destroyed on the landing pads, they were helpless witnesses as the Navy pummeled the pirate frigates overhead and fighters wheeled and spat bullets. They fled for what shelter they could and hoped that fate would be merciful.
Frey led his crew down the cargo ramp, cutlass swinging against his leg, pistols raised. The stink of the marsh hit them as they came out into the open air and took up positions around the Ketty Jay. He’d been expecting some resistance from the locals, but he found himself pleasantly disappointed. The freebooters who were passing through the square couldn’t have cared less why they were landing their craft here. Since they weren’t wearing Navy colors, they could do what they liked. The sight of Bess coming down the ramp deterred any thought of further inquiry.
Frey glanced at the Navy fleet, visible in the distance a few kloms away. They were spreading out defensively as the pirate craft increased their assault. Half the pirate army’s larger craft were destroyed, but the others were giving as good as they got. Frey saw a Navy frigate slip into a groaning descent, its flanks aflame.
As far as he was concerned, both sides could blow themselves to pieces. He had little love for either. As long as some Navy craft survived to tell the tale and exonerate him, that was fine.
“Alright, let’s go!” he cried. Silo closed up the cargo ramp and they hurried toward their target, with the Murthian covering their backs.
There was a barricade surrounding Orkmund’s squat gray stronghold. The watchtowers surmounting the mass of crossed girders and spikes were empty, but the gate was still closed. It was an enormous slab of metal on rollers, heavy enough to need three men to move it and presumably secured on the other side.
“Bess! Open that gate!” Frey called.
The golem stamped past him. She dug her massive fingers into the metal and wrenched. The gate shrieked in protest as a bolt on the inside resisted, but Bess’s strength was inexorable, and the gate slowly gave way.
Frey could see one or two men who had stopped at the edge of the square and were staring. Clearly, they were puzzled to see several men who looked like pirates breaking into the pirate captain’s stronghold. Malvery raised his shotgun and sighted at one of them; Silo took aim at the other.
“Keep moving, lads,” said the doctor. “This doesn’t concern you.”
They decided that it didn’t concern them after all. There was a loud snap of metal and the gate rolled out of the way with a screech.
“Nice work, Bess,” said Frey. Crake patted her on the arm as they sallied inside.
Orkmund’s stronghold wasn’t large—certainly not the size of somewhere like Mortengrace—but it was secure. The gray, mold-streaked walls were thick, and the windows were small and deeply set. Too small to climb through.
Once inside the barricade, they were faced with a three-story building with two projecting wings on either side, making a three-sided square. The entrance was set between the wings, at the far end of the square.
Frey led them to the nearest wall, at the