Read Online Cerulean Isle by G.M. Browning - Free Book Online

We’ll soon be able to sign L’Ollon’s articles and become official members of the Obsidian’s crew.”
    “Don’t you know what kind of man Jean L’Ollon is? A tyrant, a murderer!”
    “What else could he be? That’s what makes him so infamous.” Grant reached into the pile of gold and scooped out a handful of coins. He put them in his pouch and then handed the pouch to me. It was heavy and could barely close. “Here, take this and go if you want your freedom. I’ll be fine alone. I can finish the job.”
    The pouch in my hand held enough to purchase clothing, food, a room, and anything else to aid in my quest for freedom. My eyes went to the window. The hazy sunbeams lit the way.
    I crept to the window, free to escape. Leaving Grant with the treasure trunk and his wayward dream, I stepped through the dusty sunbeam and touched the wooden sill. I heard the squawking of the birds and the rustle of the palms, the very distant churn of the ocean. I looked back at Grant, who stood alone, one hand on the door that would take him into Shanley’s home. I wondered what he was waiting for, and then I realized why he remained. He was making sure I escaped safely. The pouch of gold felt heavier suddenly, too heavy for me to carry alone.
    I stepped away from the window. “Grant,” I called. “Wait for me.”

Chapter 10
Captain Shanley
     
    We stopped to listen for voices from within the manor and heard Christoff engaged in conversation.
    “Christoff ’s voice is far and faint,” said Grant. “Any sounds we make will be just as faint to them. It should be safe to go in. Take off your shoes.”
    The stone floor was cool and dry on our bare feet. We slipped out of the storage room and into the brightly lit hall.
    The polished stone floor was pristine and smooth. The air smelled of sweet incense. To our left, a spiraled stairwell snaked up to the second level; to our right stretched a long hallway. The walls were finished with a shimmering gold paint and throughout the length of the hall stood marble tables with vases of bright flowers. Directly in front of us was a foyer boasting a circular fountain. Crystal water cascaded from a stone seashell. The stream created subtle rippling waves of light on the ceiling. The quivering beams illuminated the walls and filled the entire room with a warm yellow glow.
    “You’re asking a lot for such a small ship, Shanley.” Christoff’s voice was louder, likely a room away.
    We needed to move on. As we started for the stairwell, we heard footsteps approaching. We raced for the stairs and began our silent ascent to the second floor. I clutched the handle of my sword to keep it from clanging against the iron rails.
    Looking down from the second floor into the foyer, we saw Christoff. In front of him stood a partially bald man with a round belly and strong build. He wore a silly half smile as he spoke, making his face pleasant and likable.
    “So that’s Captain Shanley,” commented Grant. “He’s not what I imagined.”
    Grant and I crouched and waited, watching and listening.
    “That is my final offer,” said Shanley, his voice calm. He led Christoff to a small writing table.
    “That can be arranged,” answered Christoff. “I have two thirds of the cost with me now. I will need to meet my investor at the harbor. I welcome you to join me.”
    “What is your investor doing at the waterfront?”
    “My bank is in Aruba, and I have made plans to invest in Curacao’s bank. He brings my notes. If you’ll join me in meeting him, I will gladly pay you in full.”
    “Will he be carrying gold? I don’t trust bank notes from men I have just met.”
    “Indeed. My man will have a trunk of money. You can trust me, Captain. Allow me to prove it.” Christoff took the bulging pouch off his belt and poured the contents onto the table. Gold and silver coins covered Shanley’s writing area and spilled onto the floor.
    “I thought that L’Ollon said not to give him so much as a