Oberon's Dreams - By Aaron Pogue Page 0,5

your name not grand enough for you?”

“I care little for my name, but theirs is far too grand. They already own the histories of my nation. I would prefer to rob them of the chance of robbing yours.”

Iryana shrugged. “You bear a strange kind of generosity. You’ll rob this memory to prevent other men from doing so. You rescue me from a slaver’s block so that I can be your slave.”

Corin suppressed his first response and shrugged instead. “Wicked as I am, I make a better steward of precious things than the men whom I oppose. But if you chafe so much at my authority, I set you free. Turn and run. Now. If I end in chains, you will not much enjoy the hospitality of the ones who take my place.”

“I have known little enough of hospitality in my time,” she said. “I will find my own way free.”

“Please,” he said, serious at last. “Don’t underestimate what they could do.”

She cocked her head and stared at him with a crooked smile. “I just said these things to you.”

“But I am their captain.”

“And I am just a slave. Why do you care so much for my destiny?”

“I learned to sail from a man who’d fled his chains,” Corin said. “But more than that, I grew up in the streets of rich Ithale. I have seen the sins of my people. I come from a land that would make slaves of all men, and that has borne in me a certain sympathy for those who suffer.”

“Such nobility from a thief!”

“It isn’t hard. The only ones with anything to steal are those who own the chains.”

Iryana narrowed her eyes. “On the sea, perhaps. But here? All you take from here will be the memories of these wretched tribes.”

“As I said before, I’m only here to challenge those who will come after.”

“It isn’t easy to believe. A thousand years your people have not disturbed this place. Perhaps you learned some secret, but why should I suspect there would be others?”

“I could offer you their names. I found the map that led me here on some nobleman’s spoiled son. I learned the secrets of this place in the library at Rikkeborh. Trust my word, the Godlanders were coming to this place. I merely won the race.”

“So many answers,” she said. “And never hesitation.”

“It is the one thing I cannot afford.”

She shook her head and met his eyes. “Then tell me this: What will you do if I refuse?”

“I’ll ask again.”

She laughed, but there was bitterness in it. “Ethan Blake would have me beaten.”

“Ethan Blake would slit your throat,” Corin said. “He has no love for slaves at all.”

“Then he would leave here empty-handed. There is no way to enter Jezeeli without my aid, so—”

Corin shook his head, cutting her off. Then, without saying a word, he extended one arm back the way they’d come, pointing at the huge bronze cannons.

Iryana gasped. “He wouldn’t dare.”

“He would,” Corin said, a touch of sadness in his voice. “And I would, too, to keep that treasure out of the hands of some greedy lord.”

“You would fire on the forgotten city?”

“I would blast a way through solid stone and pray it didn’t do too much damage to the treasure buried on the other side.”

“It is not a treasure hoard. It is a sacred place.”

“Then let me in. Open the way for me, show me a chamber full of sadness and regret, and we will leave this place forever. Refuse, and you can see how much destructive power those things hold.”

Corin watched a tear spill down her dusky cheek, but in the end she nodded.

“Good.” He breathed a sigh and took her arm. “I’m glad to hear it’s settled. Because unless I miss my guess, the boys are back.”

Corin turned again, looking past the cannons this time. The horizon beyond the valley’s mouth was now a rolling cloud of dust, and beneath that backdrop marched an army of weary pirates. Ethan Blake came along at their head, and he looked angry.

Corin shook his head. “And I do not want Blake to have to use the cannon.”

“Beware that man,” Iryana whispered.

“Get to your tent.”

“I thought you needed me.”

Corin glanced her way. She looked prepared to go to battle. Her jaw was clenched, her hands in fists, and there was murder in her eyes. Corin sighed.

“Wait for me at your tent,” he said. “I’ll need you soon enough. But there is still some work to do.”

She hesitated, still intent on arguing, but

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