If not for that blond figure all those years ago, he and the woman beside him would long since have been dragged into the cages of the Holy Land atop the Red Line, breathing their last in slavery.
"Remember, we represent the Family."
His voice was quiet, yet it cut through the clamor of the waves.
"-If anyone disgraces that name, even if those above let it slide, I won't."
The people who had come down from the deck remained silent.
For one thing, Tesoro managed the affairs of six islands, holding a position equal to that bald military officer's;
for another, they all knew that this husband and wife had been bought out of a slave auction.
That kindness had given them new lives. No one could question their loyalty.
"Relax."
A voice came from the direction of the dock.
Tesoro whipped around.
"Mr. Rossi?"
At some point, a figure in a black haori had appeared on the shore.
Blond hair fell to his shoulders. His face was calm, and the sheath of the long sword at his waist gleamed dully in the sunlight.
Who else could it have been?
"Lord Rossi."
"Sir..."
Everyone bowed their heads in greeting.
Rossi nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over the crowd-Tesoro, the Fish-Man shipwright and his apprentice, and the pirate chiefs and combat captains who had once submitted after their defeat.
"Let's go."
He had come here only as a precaution.
Beyond the cable car's transparent doors, drifting wisps of cloud brushed against the curved glass.
Rossi did not look at the harbor and warships shrinking beneath his feet. His gaze rested on the two people beside him.
A bronze-skinned man stood in silence, the brand on his neck mostly hidden by his high-collared coat.
The other, a blue-skinned Fish-Man, was looking