26. String of Pearls

26. String of Pearls

Padansut was the perfect size of town for pirates: big enough they didn't stand out, but not so big it possessed a large watchguard to oversee its citizens and make unorthodox activities impossible. Hakan remembered the town with fondness and found it little changed since he'd last visited, for all that his most recent trip was several years behind him. The souk was larger, the original building fringed by rows of stalls huddled against the outer walls, covered only by canvas roofs.

He strolled through the bustling outdoor market, evaluating their best options. Loula walked at his elbow, because her ferocious, resting-assassin-face was never not an asset when intimidation might prove useful. If nothing else, it ensured a clear path and made sure hawkers moderated their blandishments when she turned her glare on them.

Ozzo followed a few minutes behind, appearing as though he were roaming through the market at his own pace, although Hakan knew he'd be perfectly aware of exactly where they went and who they spoke to. They worked as a co-ordinated team, as though there'd never been an interruption to their activities.

Ramorran, by contrast, stuck close as though expecting danger around every corner. Hakan supposed he didn't have much experience with large groups of people other than his tribe. And look how that had ended up. He hooked his arm through Ramorran's to keep him close.

"What do you like?" Hakan asked as they passed a jewellery stall, drawing Ramorran into the circle of his arm, gesturing at the wares set out and gleaming in the sunlight.

Ramorran blinked, clearly surprised to be asked. Hakan cursed every single partner the man had ever had who hadn't cared enough to treasure him. They weren't here to buy him jewels, but now he wished they were.

"They're all pretty," Ramorran murmured.

Hakan grinned. "It's a magpie's dream," he agreed.

The stallholder came closer with an ingratiating smile, sensing possibilities. "How can I serve you, gentlemen?" His gaze flicked behind them. "Lady?"

Loula gave the man a stare he'd done nothing to deserve. Hakan squashed his amusement as the jeweller swallowed hard and returned his attention to them. "Gentlemen? All the very highest quality, I assure you. Perhaps a ring?" He lifted one of the displays, a silk cushion with a variety of rings pinned to it. He had, as intended, picked up on what Hakan had been looking at.

"Do you want a ring?" he asked Ramorran with a wide, generous smile.

"I don't need a ring," Ramorran replied, eyes wide.

"No one needs jewellery," Hakan said.

"Something for your beard, maybe," Ramorran suggested, deflecting generosity deliberately, or just because he wasn't used to being cared for?

Hakan smiled, holding his gaze. It was a lovely thought, but they weren't here for him. They weren't here to buy jewellery at all, but he was having too much fun to stop just yet. "No," he told the stallholder, whose face fell. "Show me those rings?"

The stallholder perked back up. He fetched another display. Hakan pointed out several.

Ramorran grew stiffer and stiffer. "Are you trying to gild me?"

Hakan stilled, remembering silly stories from the fireside about merfolk. Was that a thing for selkies? "Would you like me to?" he returned, equally softly.

Ramorran looked away, reaching to prod at some crystal pendants hanging from a hook. It didn't pass Hakan's notice that he didn't answer.

He gave the stallholder a genial smile and collected Ramorran's elbow to move them both on. "Not quite what I'm looking for," he told the jeweller.

"Of course, I'm here if you need me, gentlemen." He proffered a big smile that Hakan knew would vanish the moment they were out of sight. That didn't matter.

They walked on, while behind them Ozzo stepped up to the stall. Now the stallholder knew there were customers looking for rings that weren't quite like the ones he had, he should be more open to buying the silver jewellery Ozzo had liberated from Peacock and his friends a week earlier.

"One down." Loula murmured.

Hakan nodded. "Pearls now." They cut back through the market to the stall he'd selected earlier. The jeweller glanced over their purse of pearls and rapid-fire haggling commenced. Hakan was glad of Loula looming threateningly at his shoulder more than once. The jeweller threw her a glance of irritation more than fear, but he improved his price all the same.

When they'd reached a compromise both were happy with, the jeweller counted out the payment while Hakan and Loula both watched to ensure there was no possibility they'd be swindled.

"Pleasure doing business," Hakan declared as he handed over the pearls and accepted the coins.

"Ozzo found a sweetmeats stall," Loula said as they turned away, directing him with a jerk of her chin.

"Perfect."

The three of them headed to the whitewashed souk building and the hatch open in the wall through which tea and pastries were being dispensed. Ozzo was sprawled on a chair against the wall, cupping a dish of tea and surveying the market from his vantage point.

The navigator's expression lightened when they came into sight. "You took long enough."

"Can't rush perfection," Hakan replied. He ordered tea for them all and a plate of baklava. Ozzo set a small pile of coins in the middle of the table. Hakan added the money he'd got for the pearls and while they waited for refreshments he split the payments into four. "Fair?" He looked around, catching each eye and ensuring everyone was happy. It was an even split; there was nothing really to be disputed, but crews and relationships had been ruined due to not ensuring agreement. Especially while they were newly reunited, still finding their way, he'd take extra care.

Loula and Ozzo nodded and pocketed their shares. Ramorran just stared.

Hakan's mouth dried. He should have explained the setup before now. He'd almost forgotten Ramorran was new to all this. He gathered Ramorran's portion from the table, reached for his love's hand, placed it in his palm and folded his fingers over it. "We split everything equally, no matter who takes the lead or whose idea a job was." If Ramorran felt wronged because he'd done the bulk of the work to secure the pearls, they'd deal with it. He just didn't want a scene in public.

"That's mine?" Ramorran asked.

Hakan frowned. Ramorran didn't seem upset with his portion, more surprised that he'd got one at all. "Yes," he repeated. "Equal shares."

Ramorran looked up then, meeting his eye. "I thought everything would be pooled."

Hakan squeezed his fingers. "That would be a recipe for disaster. It's fairer this way. We pool costs and divide gains and we all have our own money to spend."

"I see." Ramorran sounded as though he didn't, in fact, see, but was valiantly trying to understand their ways.

The tea and pastries arrived. "It's yours to do with as you wish," Hakan assured him. Then, he burned his tongue downing a glass of sweet tea, swallowed a sticky pistachio and honey pastry in two bites, and snapped his glass down on the table. "I have an errand to run. I'll see you all back at the boat."

He strode away before anyone could protest, pretending he hadn't seen Ramorran's betrayed expression.

Hakan had a purchase to make which he didn't want Ramorran to see, and a stall on the edge of the souk held the perfect thing. He hurried through the alleyways as though demons were on his heels, just in case any of his crewmates took it into their head to follow. It was crazy; foolish, but he wanted to surprise his love.

Purchase made, he hurried back to the harbour to stow it on Emancipation, a blanket obscuring it from casual view. He was whistling as he sauntered back to the tea stall.

His whistling cut off abruptly when he turned the last corner. His crewmates had vanished.