A gambit in the tons the.., p.1
A Gambit in the Tons: The Silver Locket, Book 7, page 1
Never Miss a Release
The Complete Silver Locket Series
The Sneaky Lass
Feathers at Sea
Cry to Cruel Gods
Witch or Bloom
A Woman’s Wail
Blessed Gun
A Gambit in the Tons
Silver Locket Origins
A Glorious Mess
A Fine Tangle (Coming Feb. 15, 2024)
A Disaster’s Wake (Coming May 2024)
If you’re interested in delving deeper into these characters and the world of Goran through short stories, character interviews, and deleted chapters please subscribe to my monthly newsletter at:
https://www.kennedysutton.com/subscribe
Or join my Facebook Fan Group:
Sutton’s Silver Locket Crew
A Gambit in the Tons
THE SILVER LOCKET, BOOK 7
KENNEDY SUTTON
Copyright © 2023 by Kennedy Sutton
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Artwork by Fruzsina Szanyó https://www.facebook.com/ChromesDesign
Editing by Lynne Blance, lynneblanceeditor@gmail.com
ISBN (paperback): 978-1-958453-18-6
ISBN (Ebook): 978-1-958453-17-9
This one is for me.
I know it is scary, but look back.
Nothing is chasing you, Kennedy.
You turned your monsters into magic.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Eight Months Later
Don’t Miss: Silver Locket Origins
About the Author
Chapter 1
Zachary finds a seat beside me just as another round of dice is begun. He follows my gaze to my boy.
Jon’s right side from beneath his jaw all the way down to his hip is mottled with scars that are equal parts raised and pitted. His skin is like a once-muddy field that has gone dry and cracked. I was right when I told him through tears in Highbay that it would make him appear fearsome, but it is clear he is not ready to believe it himself. I think he might believe himself monstrous rather than brave.
“A day or two more and I think his hands will be ready to hit the air.”
Zachary Cosper, the surgeon’s mate, has been keeping me apprised of his every thought on Jon’s recovery. In the weeks since Jon stood upright and left the captain’s cabin where I had been nursing him, it has all been relatively straightforward. Almost every day another bandage has come off and Jon grows closer to being fully healed. Still, I hang on Zachary’s words, my mother’s heart desperate for every piece of good news.
“That’s good. We will be in Alouett tomorrow. To lose the last of the bandages while there will be a fine ending to this voyage."
“The forty days home have practically been a cruise.”
I would agree with Zachary if I were on any other ship. For Jon and I, the six weeks sailing back to Goran began as a nightmare. Sometimes I have to find and observe Jon alive and well to remember that it has passed and we have both come out on the other side. “Aye. Blessed Gun is a solid brig.”
Blessed Gun runs upon the seas like no other vessel I’ve ever sailed upon. She takes on almost no water and her rig is taut without aid. Her sails are pristine, and nothing needs mending.
“And she’s yours.”
The thought has a smile tugging on my lips. “She is mine.”
Thoughts of my ship fall into the background as my attention is drawn back to the game of dice in the center of the crew’s quarters. Jon becomes more like his typical self each day that he is allowed to heal. Even now, with both hands bandaged, fingers and all, he plays his part in a round of bones. Jon’s turn comes around again and Michael places the dice in Jon’s bandaged palms since Jon cannot pick them up himself. Pax blows on the bones for luck, since he is playing on Jon’s team, and Jon clumsily tosses them onto the deck.
His roll must land true, for everyone in their circle shouts with exuberance or dismay, depending on their bet. Jon releases a whoop of joy and Pax scoops up the pot of copper coins in the center and cuts it in half with the side of his palm before sliding the other half to Jon.
Turning back to Zachary, I find he appears remiss to say anymore now that I am smiling. I have a feeling what he means to ask, though, and it is a question that grows closer to needing an answer whether I have an easy one or not.
“Are you any closer to a decision as to your life of piracy?”
There it is. I knew it. Blessed Gun is my ship, and I can choose to do with it as I please. If only I knew what I wanted.
“There are a million reasons we cannot stop being pirates.” Zachary has once again become my confidante on our voyage back to the continent. He knows all the reasons I could bring up and has listened to me hash them out more times than I care to count. I wept over them by Jon’s bedside often. Even seeing Jon mostly healed, his scars serve as powerful reminders of what I risk in this line of work that I do not know how to set down. “You know them well enough without me saying them all over again.”
He nods. “We are well-known, wanted murderers and thieves. I don’t suppose you’ve talked to Bennett about it?”
Across the forecastle, my eyes drift to Bennett in discussions with Hugh. His gaze catches mine. He often keeps a close eye where Zachary is involved, no matter how often it has been proven unnecessary. I smile at him and his hard expression softens, which earns him a rough nudge from Hugh for losing focus on whatever they are discussing. “No. We all decided it could wait until we were settled in Alouett. It is not a decision that can be made in grief. I need a clearer head.”
“Pardons can be bought. Papers can be forged.” He is speaking the reasoning I have muttered aloud on end for weeks now. I turn to Zachary and find him smirking. “There are places no one would ever look too closely if we chose to change our names. We could sail far from here to settle with all this gold weighing us down.“
Bennett and I have not discussed it because, deep in our bones, we are frightened. Bennett does not know a thing about living anywhere but ships, and what would become of me on land? I would always stand out in a bad way between the scars I have earned in my time as a pirate, my hair that has clearly been shorn time and again, and all the boldness I have found within myself in my years aboard ships.
Hugh and Michael know of my desire to find a fresh path, but only in passing. Neither man has asked me more since we left Highbay and I have said nothing to anyone but Zachary. I only know Bennett has mentioned it to them on my behalf.
Though he was ailing or drugged into a half-sleep for a lot of it, Jon has probably heard me dissect this line of thought and put it back together as often as Zachary has.
Noting how I have grown silent, Zachary clears his throat and draws me back into the forecastle with him. I find his face to be a mask of a man who wishes to put a comforting arm around me but does not feel he can. Bennett has proven himself a fine captain since returning to us and the morale of the crew is high, but it is still important Zachary and I do not give anyone any wrong ideas to use as ammunition against Bennett. We have a history, and the crew has made it far more romantic than it ever was in truth.
“It is just more of the same. I think it comes down to fear.” I shake my worry over what is to become of us away as I have been doing for forty-two days.
Zachary bobs his head and turns his eyes to the west like he can see beyond the wood of the hull, through the night, and to the shores of Alouett. “Maybe it won’t seem so daunting with warm food and a good night’s rest ashore.”
My shoulders relax and I cannot help but breathe a little easier for how Zachary dropped the topic into a comforting place I can stay in for a time. Thoughts of Alouett and the family I borrow there are far safer than pondering what might be my next great leap into the unknown. “That is my hope. Will you be staying at The Leaping Jack as you did last we landed in Alouett?”
Zachary nods, a somewhat wistful smile playing on his lips. It contrasts with the fear in his big brown eyes. Maybe even guilt. It could have something to do with what happened between him and me last we landed in Alouett when I still believed Bennett to be dead. It feels off, though. I do not think his mind is on me. “Yeah, that’s the
Around us, the forecastle is growing quiet and dim as more men blow out their lights and climb into their hammocks. Standing from Zachary’s side, I duck beneath the hanging beds of men to join Bennett by the hatch that leads to the top deck. Kissing my cheek, Bennett motions for me to climb out first. With a final glance at Jon, who lies in his hammock with his bandaged hands resting over his stomach, eyes gently shut, I find my way out into the windy night.
Foster stands at the helm waiting for me to take over for him. He would probably be tapping his hands on the wheel if not for how exhaustion weighs him down. When I climb the quarterdeck steps, Foster slinks away from the helm with only a mumbled, “Night, Missus,” over his shoulder.
Bennett doesn’t do well after sunset and grows weary in a hurry, but he finds a seat by my feet and rests his back against the helm. “Foster makes a fine enough pirate, all things considered.”
“He only had the shakes a few days after we were almost marooned in the center of the war.”
Though it had not been funny at the time, we both snicker to remember how Foster had been wide-eyed with fear and regret to learn that a life of piratical adventure was not all it was cracked up to be. Sometimes it means losing everything when a ship is burned from beneath our feet.
“Think he’ll be gone for good the moment we land somewhere so friendly as Alouett?”
I watch Foster fade into the darkness of the deck on his way to the forecastle and shake my head. “No. I think we will be stuck with Foster a little while longer. He likes the thrill.”
Bennett yawns, his mouth stuck wide open so long I wonder if he will forget what he intends to say before he is done. His teeth clack shut and his eyelids droop once his body decides he can return to himself. “Foster is just glad to be a part of whatever. He was the same way with whaling.” One of Bennett’s hands lands on my bare foot. “I really meant to keep you company a while longer, but I’m asleep on my feet.”
It would be cruel to point out that he is not on his feet but slumped by my feet in a heap. “It is alright, Bennett. Tomorrow we can sleep together in a feather bed in Alouett. You should rest now since I am helming this shift and Hugh is taking the next. By sunrise, you will be the best man for the job.”
Patting my foot twice, he stands with slouched shoulders and a bowed head. “Well, that’s a nice way of calling me useless.”
“Only in the middle of the night.”
He is interrupted by another long yawn but he speaks through this one, his words elongated and slurred. “I love you, darling wife.”
I push him toward the stairs so he can climb down and enter his cabin. “I love you, too. I will be beside you in a few hours.”
“No offense, but I will be too gone to notice your absence." He turns on the steps to blow me a kiss. “And Alouett tomorrow.”
Maybe it is in my head, but there is a heaviness to his final statement before he collapses into his hammock for the night.
We will be in Alouett tomorrow and, though it is a lovely prospect, there is a crossroads waiting there for us. After we drop anchor, we will be sailing without a map.
Chapter 2
“Land! Alouett, dead ahead, men!”
The crew erupts into joyous cheers. I thank all the gods I do not believe in, and a few others from faraway places to be sure the right powers receive thanks, just in case they played a hand in it.
Though Zachary has assured me that Jon’s hands will be ready to hit air any day, they are still bandaged after Michael looked at them this morning. Jon has been stomping and grumbling about it, frustrated by his uselessness on deck. With land in sight—even so distant it cannot be seen with the naked eye—he has brightened. “Thank all the gods together for Alouett, right Jane?”
Since stealing Blessed Gun, it feels as though Alouett will somehow clean our slate of all that occurred in Brighal. We could use a new start. “Aye. I am ready to be there.”
“I’m eager just to see it!” Jon squints at the horizon and shakes his head at how it is still too far to be spotted without a spyglass. I pass him the one kept in a leather kit by the helm and he unfolds and adjusts it, taking his time not to drop it in his bandaged hands. He does a little hop when he spots what he is looking for.
“Do you think Lil will come to the docks?” He keeps his face trained into neutrality, but his voice is thick with hope. Pulling the glass from his eyes, he passes the spyglass back to me and stares down at his bandaged hands and scarred right arm. Ever since he first became coherent enough to worry about anything but pain, he has fretted over them. He often runs his fingers over them and catches his reflection however he can through his days. “Well, maybe she shouldn’t. She’s so sweethearted, she might need a warning before I come ashore.”
The way he says it reminds me of the brief days between Mickey losing his arm to a loose cannon and his death. He had been so worried over Lil’s reaction. At the time, I did not know Mickey’s daughter and figured he must be right to fear. Now, though, I can speak with certainty. “Lil is sweethearted and also possesses a logical mind and a brave soul. Your trials only prove your gallantry and she will know it.”
Jon does not appear convinced but he says no more on the matter.
We have plenty to sell upon our arrival in Alouett. Hugh is certain he can give the crew fair compensation for the wretched journey that chasing revenge in the east bought us. That is atop the shares of the gold we stole from Darra’s coffers. My ship’s worth was set aside, but the rest was split. I imagine we might struggle to keep crew now that we are back in Goran, as these men may choose to stay put with their spoils. But Alouett will be buzzing with the tales of pirates who struck it so rich. More men will come if we choose to take them.
Jon appears to be wondering about uncertain futures but, before he can ask, Bennett calls orders to prepare to anchor and everyone jumps to it. The jobs are all made easier by our new ship. Her sails are new and the rig has not yet grown frayed by the wind and weather. She sails like a dream.
I leave the helm in the bandaged hands of Jon until someone with more experience can take it from him and join the men in reefing sails above.
My heart pounds with the question that Zachary asked me last night and that those closest to me have been asking in the form of silent and pointed looks for weeks now. Piracy is a dangerous game that is appealing to me less and less. The thought of how it nearly cost me Jon is forefront in my mind. As I climb the rig, the silver ring that adorns my left hand catches the light and reminds me with each flash from the afternoon sun that piracy nearly cost me everything. Bennett only stands in thanks to a misfiring gun.
I content myself in the hope that once we are rested, fed, and have had the time to relax in feather beds, the proper direction we should sail will be made clearer.
Bennett is organizing the men and anchors, which we’ve not yet had to use beyond hauling them up and back into place when we left Highbay in a great hurry. Hugh is finalizing the list of items to sell and likely making a mental list of whom he could approach and what price he could ask. On the horizon, Alouett makes itself known to all. At first, it is only a green smudge. Each moment we sail west it grows more detailed.
I take up a song for hauling sails that is so familiar I think my lips might still sing the many verses when I am dead in the sea. The stanzas are carved deep into memory, sung without need for thought. I wonder if that will always be so, or if one day I will struggle to recall the words.
