The reception room on the top floor of the High Tide was far quieter than the hall downstairs. Sea breezes poured through the half-open windows, stirring the tassels along the edges of the curtains.
Renato sat in an armchair by the window, with Barnaby opposite him. The pirate took a flat leather pouch from inside his coat, set it on the table, untied the drawstring, and poured out fifty silver coins.
Renato glanced at the pile of silver coins without any change in his expression. He did not even reach out to count them.
Fifty silver coins was no longer a sum worth mentioning to him. Including his daily food and drink, it would not even cover two weeks of expenses.
Still, Renato did not refuse it. The [quest] was complete, after all, and he was entitled to the payment. That was the rule in the Adventurer's line of work.
He gathered the mouth of the pouch closed again and casually set it on the low cabinet beside his armrest. The Swordsman's gaze returned to Barnaby's crooked face.
He was not surprised that this pirate chief had escaped the reach of White Harbor's laws rather than being hanged on Gallows Bridge.
After all, Barnaby had looked utterly confident ever since he had been locked up in the hold. Clearly, he had arranged plenty of contingencies in advance.
Still, the fact that he had gotten out of prison so quickly did pique Renato's interest.
Not even three full days had passed since the Governor's guards had taken him away. Even with bribes and connections smoothing the way, the normal procedures could never have moved this fast.
That meant White Harbor's bureaucracy was either absurdly efficient or simply did not take the expedition captain personally appointed by the king of Marispan seriously