Free Wake of the Bloody Angel by Alex Bledsoe

a thousand pirates, including myself,” Hawk continued. “But now comes the miraculous part. King Clovis of Witigan built a new castle far from his old one, and the quickest way to move his treasure to it was by sea. Only the good king outsmarted himself. He put together an intimidating fleet, all right: a dozen Witiganian warships guarded the single massive vessel on which everyone assumed he’d put his treasure. But in reality, he put it on a plain merchant ship leaving three days later, which is what Black Edward unknowingly captured as his first victim. Imagine his surprise when he saw the biggest single treasure in recorded history lying before him.”
    “I bet he smiled.”
    “I’d have pissed myself. So Edward immediately headed back for his woman. But a storm came up and sank his ship within sight of his destination. All hands lost, save one to tell the tale. As luck would have it, there’s a huge trench there, far too deep for any diver, and there lies Black Edward’s treasure, intact but untouchable. They say.”
    “In my experience, ‘they’ aren’t always that reliable. Convenient there was one survivor. Who was he?”
    “The quartermaster. A thoroughly unscrupulous worm of a man.”
    “You knew him?”
    “He tried to sign aboard the Poison, but he was more trouble than he was worth. He told me that the tale of Black Edward’s demise was a lie, that in fact the treasure was hidden on an island and the whole sinking of the Bloody Angel was a ruse.”
    “You didn’t believe him?”
    “I wouldn’t believe him if he said the sun rose in the east.”
    “So you never checked his story.”
    “No.”
    “What was his name?”
    He smiled. “You’re the kind of man I could drink with, Mr. LaCrosse. If they let me have drinks here, that is. You assume that since I’m sitting up here desperate for company, that I might break my oath to the Brotherhood of the Surf. Grand Article Number Four: ‘No brother will ever betray another to the forces of law and order.’ ”
    “No, I don’t think you’re desperate. And I’d never ask for information without offering to pay.”
    Now he laughed. “Mr. LaCrosse, look around. Even if you were planning to share Black Edward’s lost treasure, it would do me no good. So what can you possibly have to trade that I could use?”
    Before I could reply, Hawk looked up sharply. He said, “Wait a moment. You didn’t know that the Bloody Angel ’s quartermaster crossed my path, did you? No, you didn’t. So why did you come to me, Mr. LaCrosse? Not just because I’m old enough that I might remember.” I could almost hear the gears in his brain clicking as he puzzled it through. “You came to see me because . . .” His smile grew broad. “Jane. You’re here with Jane.”
    He stood, a liquid motion that seemed almost inhumanly swift. I jumped. He came toward me, and despite the net and bars between us, I said, “Like I said, Hawk, I’m scared of you. Stay right there or I’ll leave.”
    He stopped and held up his hands. “Of course. So is Jane down below? Hiding beneath the fog?”
    “Jane doesn’t do much hiding. She’s working for me on this, so I wanted to do the asking.”
    “And now you want the name. But there’s still the question about why I would do that. Money doesn’t do me much good here.” He scratched at his beard. “So what can you possibly have to trade to make me betray a fellow brother of the surf?”
    I reached into my pocket, careful to make no sudden moves; I didn’t want to startle Hawk, or send myself into another uncontrolled spin. I removed the thing I had claimed below, just before I handed over my boot knife.
    He made no move to take it, but his eye never left it. “Is that—?”
    “It is.”
    He extended his hand.
    I pulled mine back. “First the name.”
    He was silent for a long moment. I felt the first stirrings of wind, and the crow below me cawed as if to welcome it. “All right. His name was Marteen, I believe.