Stormy Persuasion Read Online Free PDF Page B

or reach the man chained next to him. Four in the cell were in a similar position.
     He didn’t know them, didn’t bother to talk to them. An old man had been left unbound.
     His task was to pass out the tin bowls of gruel to the rest of them. If he was awake.
     If waking him didn’t get him angry. Nathan had already missed a few meals because
     of that old man’s temper.
    Nathan was asleep when they came for him, unchaining him from the wall, dragging him
     out of there. The last man to be removed from the cell had gone out screaming about
     his innocence and hadn’t returned. Nathan didn’t say a word, but a slow-burning anger
     was inside him. He’d had other choices, other kinds of work, other goals, too. He
     might have stuck to that path if his father, Jory, hadn’t died. But one thing had
     led to another, a long chain of events, and now here he was about to be hung or sent
     off to prison for life.
    The two guards dragging him didn’t even give him an opportunity to walk. That would
     have been too slow for them, with the chains still on his ankles, and they weren’t
     removing those. He couldn’t even shield his eyes from the daylight that blinded him
     when they got aboveground.
    He was taken into a large office and shoved directly into a hardback chair in front
     of a desk. The fancy room had more the look of a parlor with expensive furnishings,
     indicating that the man behind the desk was important. The man who, Nathan guessed,
     was maybe five years older than he was, which would put him around thirty, wore a
     spotless uniform with gleaming buttons, and had curious blue eyes. He had the look
     of an aristocrat. A common practice was for second sons to work for the government
     in some capacity.
    The guards were dismissed before the man said, “I’m Arnold Burdis, Commander Burdis
     to be exact.”
    Nathan was surprised he’d been left completely alone with the officer. Did they think
     a week of nothing but gruel in a bricked and barred hole had made him weak? The office
     might be in the middle of a base crawling with revenuers, but still, it wouldn’t take
     too much effort for Nathan to overpower this man.
    He’d immediately spotted the old dueling pistol on the desk, which was there for obvious
     reasons. Nathan eyed it for a few moments, debating his chances of getting to it before
     the commander did. The likelihood that it had only one bullet in it decided the matter
     because he would need at least two, one for the commander and one for the chain between
     his feet in order to escape. Unless he wanted to take the commander hostage . . .
    “Would you like a brandy?”
    The man was pouring one for himself, and two glasses were actually on the desk in
     front of him. “One of my own bottles?” Nathan asked.
    Burdis’s mouth quirked up slightly. “A sense of humor despite your dire straits, how
     novel.”
    The commander poured the brandy for him anyway and slid the glass across the desk.
     The rattle of his chains as he raised it to his lips screamed of those dire straits,
     but sarcasm wasn’t humor. And he only took a sip to wet his dry mouth. If the man
     intended to get him drunk to loosen his tongue, he would be disappointed.
    “You are quite the catch, Tremayne. But it was just a matter of time. You were getting
     sloppy, or was it too bold for your own good?”
    “Try desperate?”
    “Were you really? Dare I take credit?”
    “For dogged persistence, if you like. I prefer to blame a wench.”
    Burdis actually chuckled. “Don’t we all from time to time. But my informant wasn’t
     wearing skirts.”
    “Care to share his name?” Nathan tossed out the question, then held his breath.
    But the man wasn’t simply conversing with him or distracted enough to reflexively
     reply to a quick question. He was cordial for a reason; Nathan just couldn’t imagine
     what it was. But he was beginning to think he was being toyed with. A nabob’s perverse
     pleasure, for whatever