Queen of the Pirates Read Online Free PDF Page B

diminutive height, but possessed of a broad solidity that reminded her of the phrase salt of the earth .
    “A pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” He smiled as he shook her hand. “I’m Radoš Fiala, mayor of Landing. Governor Wapasha asked me to unofficially greet you here and then transport you up the hill to Lincoln for a proper, formal reception.”
    Jessica nodded. In the more urbane worlds of the Republic, this might be a state visit, an event that would require hundreds of people and days of planning. Moirrey had explained that things were much more laid back on the periphery.
    Being met by the mayor of Landing was actually a pretty big thing, as locals judged them, but even the main spaceport was a small place. The capital city was not much larger.
    “That will be perfect, Mayor Fiala,” she said. “May I introduce you to my staff. Denis Jež, my executive officer. Enej Zivkovic, my flag centurion. Marcelle Travere, my steward. Moirrey Kermode, from my engineering staff.”
    She watched him shake hands and greet each in turn. When he got to Moirrey, he gave her a very close look. “There are Kermodes in and about Saxilby,” he drawled appraisingly.
    “An’ they would be kin,” she replied, lifting her chin at the man.
    “Then we might be cousins by marriage, young lady.” He smiled.
    “Dunno,” she shrugged. “Grew up up–country. No been home in many years.”
    Jessica stepped into the conversation. “It would be most helpful, Mayor,” she said, “if you could provide my first officer and Yeoman Kermode a lift to the administration building on the way up the hill.”
    “It would be my pleasure, Commander,” he smiled, gesturing them to precede him.
    Ξ
    Jessica sipped a glass of strong wine from a local vineyard and watched the large number of guards around the outside of the converted gymnasium housing the event. The watchers seemed more heavily armed and keyed up than one would expect for this sort of thing. Even for a place like Lincolnshire .
    The formal reception had turned out to be a long afternoon event, a buffet with more than one hundred guests, locally prominent people interested in button–holing her or the governor or the mayor about some topic or another. Most of the questions directed at her had to do with the increase in crime or piracy recently and well–wishes that she would do something about them.
    A few also included circular inquiries into her marital status. She had simply ignored those.
    A particularly–oily looking man approached as Jessica was considering another run at the buffet. It had turned out to have pretty good barbeque.
    The man had a furtive smile on his face. Jessica pasted a polite smile on her own face. Behind her, she could practically hear Marcelle bristle.
    “Command Centurion?” he said quietly. “A moment of your time?”
    She took his measure critically, a taller, heavy–set man, stoutness verging onto rotund, as one gets eating the richest foods and not exercising it all off again immediately.
    And I always thought shifty eyes was a literary thing.
    She nodded warily.
    He stepped close and bowed slightly. “Marcus Auric, at your service, madam.”
    “ Republic of Aquitaine Command Centurion Keller, sir.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Marcelle move to one side, capable of protecting her back or stepping behind him quickly.
    Really, Marcelle, this isn’t about to turn into tavern brawl. At worst, he’ll suffer a glass of wine thrown in his face.
    And perhaps limp for a few weeks.
    Jessica smiled at her thought processes. That in turn seemed to relax the man.
    “It is customary,” he began, “when major fleets from the Republic arrive for port calls, they bring with them trade goods to help stimulate the local economy.”
    He paused, waiting for her response.
    Jessica let her smile tell any or no tales. She sipped her wine with an expectant air.
    “May I inquire if your vessel, the carrier Auberon , brought such