Read Online The Bonemender's Choice by Holly Bennett - Free Book Online Page A

“You will help us do this, Yolenka?”
    “I help already. You sail in good Tarzine ship, fast, with full crew. They do not fight Turga for you, only sail—is agreed?”
    Dominic barked out a laugh that was dangerously close to a sob. Justine was already in tears, her arms tight around Yolenka’s neck.
    “Yes, agreed! Absolutely agreed!”
    “Good.” Yolenka pried open Justine’s hands and pulled them gently away. “Will cost you much money. Is risk for them, to go against warlord. You will pay?”
    “Whatever it takes,” assured Dominic.
    “Definitely,” agreed Tristan. “But just for interest—what will it take?”
    The sum brought a momentary impressed silence to the room. Solange ended it.
    “Consider it done,” she said.
    L UC WAS FROM a Gamier fishing port north of Batîme. He had been captured when the pirates raided his town, some days ago. He didn’t know if his family had survived.
    “They took one other besides me,” he told them. “Just a little guy, he was, still with his milk teeth. He was scared to climb the rope ladder up to the ship—he cried so hard when they made him go up. And then didn’t he slip and fall?” Luc fell silent and took to scratching at his wrists with fingers red and rough from outdoor work.
    “Bedbugs,” he said shortly, noting their silent stares. He held out his wrist, dotted with raised red bumps. “Must be in the blanket they gave me.” He scratched again, thoroughly, intently, as though it were an important chore.
    “What happened to the little boy?” asked Matthieu.
    Luc said nothing at first. He stared woodenly past the iron door, and his eyes grew red with suppressed tears, and Madeleine understood he was reliving that moment. Finally he shrugged in baffled anger.
    “They let him drown. They just sailed off and left him in the water.”
    I T SEEMED THEY would never get underway. Dominic forced himself to clamp down on his impatience and think. Without a viable plan, they might as well be chasing after shadows.
    “What guarantee do we have that these men are honest?” he asked Yolenka. “What is to keep them from selling us out to this...”
    “To Turga,” she finished. “Is no guarantee.” Her level gaze challenged him. “You think is better, go in one of your little washtub boats.”
    “Dominic, it’s our best chance.” Tristan’s hand, steadying on his shoulder.
    “This captain, he lost ship and two fingers to Turga,” said Yolenka. “Maybe is not honest—but he has no love for pirates. He say you kill Turga is good, save him more trouble.”
    “This isn’t about killing Turga!” protested Dominic. “It’s about saving my children.”
    “Sure.” Yolenka’s shoulders rippled and flexed in an elaborate shrug. “But captain can believe what he likes.”
    Her golden eyes flashed as she took charge of the little gathering and laid out her plan. “You cannot go in with army big enough to overpower a warlord on his own ground. Is no possible. Must have small group, secret in purpose.
    “I go,” she announced, “to speak for you. As guide. I am traveling dancer.” Yolenka raised her arms above her head and began a languid sinuous shimmy that left every man in the room gaping. She caught their expressions and sneered.
    “Is whore dancing,” she said dismissively. “Takes no skill. They like this in badlands.”
    “I bet they do,” breathed Tristan, earning himself a swift elbow in the ribs from Rosalie.
    “So,” said Yolenka, “who else comes?”
    Dominic stepped in front of Tristan, cutting off his broth-er’s eager step forward.
    “I do.”
    “You are father, is certain you go. Who else?”
    Not Justine or Tristan, it turned out, though both wished to. Tristan was reined in sharply by his mother: “You are the Regent of Crow Island and the Blanchette Coast, which is currently subject to frequent pirate attack. Your duty lies here with the defense of the coast.” Justine was dissuaded moregently, by the specter of a