by Holland Rae
“Half past twelve,” he told her, after a quick glance at his pocket watch. She jumped from the hammock with a skill only obtained from months of living in one.
“It’s been too long,” Delilah said, her voice rising slightly in alarm. “Captain told me to come after her if she weren’t back by midnight.” Armand resisted the urge to yell at the first mate. Catalina running off to do exactly what she wanted to do was not something anyone was able to stop.
“Well, it’s past that time, certainly,” he said, but already he was climbing the stairs to the deck and calling over his shoulder. “Collect your best fighters. We’ll split into a team and take half of them to find the captain. The other half will remain here to guard the ship.” Delilah was nothing if not a capable first mate, and within moments, half a dozen crewmembers stood before Armand.
He looked them over, his mind only half able to concentrate, as he considered all the ways Catalina might have gotten herself into danger. He tried to reassure himself. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. The last weeks in her company had surely proven that. But now he felt as though he had been dropped off at sea with a rock tied around his ankle. Something about this woman grated on him. She made him crazy, made him want to tear his hair from his head, made him want to shove her against the nearest wall and kiss her senseless. There was no denying, despite his feelings, that she was a powerful, capable woman.
Catalina would be fine. Armand would make damned sure of it.
After a moment’s choice, he took Delilah, a thin woman named Molly who was apparently famed for her swordsmanship, and two of the larger male members of the crew, Richard and George. The remaining crewmembers were to stay behind and guard the ship. If Catalina returned, they would sound the special wooden whistle with the bird song, intended to attract only the right attention, and the rescue team would return without another thought.
Thus, not ten minutes after rounding up his crew of misfit mercenaries, Armand found himself rowing through the shallow waters of a godforsaken island cove in the middle of the ocean, wet with the spray of sea brine and brimming over with anger. How dare she run off without giving anyone but her first mate notice? And how dare she go without any auxiliary support? If she thought she was being brave, then she was a fool. There was nothing brave in sacrificing yourself without need.
Still, the sensation he had felt only a few hours earlier, as she had laughed at his marriage proposal, returned in full force. Armand tried to reason with himself. He was worrying because she was an old friend. He was worrying because they had a history. He was worrying because they had slept together.
The wooden oar pressed hard into his palm, as Armand and Delilah set the small rowboat full of their rescue team around to the other end of the island chain. But the bite of pain didn’t distract Armand from the lie he was trying to tell himself. All those facts remained true, of course. They were old friends with a history who had, in fact, slept together only one night previous. But that wasn’t the cause of the intense ache he felt deep in his stomach. No. Armand couldn’t shake the feeling that, if anything happened to Catalina, the world would be a much dimmer place.
He hadn’t wanted to marry her out of some sense of duty or their shared childhood. He had wanted to marry her because he had wanted to marry her. He wanted to be with her, to see her raise young, dark-haired children that raced around her ankles on the deck of the ship. Armand had long believed that marriage was not the life for him, but seeing Catalina in her full force, taking her all night long, had been enough to convince him that marrying her was something he needed to do.
His thoughts, traitorous as they were, were cut short by the sight of candlelight pouring from an opening in the rock. A metal stake had been forced between two boulders, and they tied the rowboat’s rope around it, before climbing up onto a series of rocks that sat just near the cave’s opening.
It was a strange space to pick, or the pirates had chosen in a hurried fashion, for instead of just a single opening, as most caves were wont to have, this one had two, as if the back wall had been blown out by an explosion.
Taking a glance at the crew of pirates, Armand considered the idea that it was more than likely these men had accidentally blown a hole in their own hideout. The four others followed him, and they were soon all sitting upon the rock, with a good view of the whole cave at large, of the overflowing piles of gold and jewels, the laughing pirates, the movement in the far corner where the cave let out again, and—
He’d be damned. He’d be damned again to hell for murdering her, also. A flash of dark gold hair caught the glimmer of candlelight, and Armand nearly cursed aloud. It would serve her right, getting captured, he thought, with not a small measure of visceral rage. But the sensation of pure panic that filled his chest at the thought was enough to dilute his anger. It didn’t matter. He’d give her a stern talking to later. For right now, the focus of their mission was to get to the other side of the pirate hideout and steal back their captain without a single brutal, bloodthirsty pirate noticing. Well, that seemed easy enough.
****
Catalina glanced at Henri, taking stock of his pallor and closed eyes, then darted her attention back to the raucous crowd of pirates laughing around piles of treasures and jugs of ale. She could only just make out a long table, constructed of a board over several barrels. Huge chests, overflowing with ladies’ gowns, parasols, and wide-brimmed hats were stacked against one of the walls of the cave. Beside them was a pile of desks and chairs, in beautiful, dark wood—expensive pieces, stacked like lumber for the fire. These men had gone into houses and estates and taken whatever treasures or valuables their grubby hands could carry out.
There would be no stealth here. Between the chests of drawers, piles of coins, and immovable stack of chairs and dresses, and the guards stationed, she had no hope of sneaking about. Too many of them guarded the cave walls and openings. Henri, from his appearance, would not likely be able to move fast enough for a rushed escape. He obviously needed a solid meal, and Catalina was certain she couldn’t carry them both off without help. She was strong, but slight and the de Bourbon brothers were a large species of man.
No, she couldn’t sneak her way in and out of this hole. Whatever she did was going to have to be dramatic and wild and utterly out of her mind. For a moment, Catalina considered retreating. What the hell did she think to do by walking into a den of pirates, armed with nothing but a sword, a dagger, and her wits? Fair point to her, she could best them to a man with her wits, but that wasn’t a fight she’d be having this evening. Damn it all to hell, she should have brought help.
For a moment, her heart thumping so loudly in her chest she was sure they would discover her, Catalina wondered what time it was. She had told Delilah to search for her after the stroke of twelve, but it was a decent distance from the ship, and what if the search party had gone in the wrong direction? She couldn’t even be certain it was after twelve, and Catalina felt her stomach lurch a little. Henri was so damnably close. Were the gods playing some foul trick upon her?
Henri’s mouth seemed to quirk up a little at the corner, though his eyes remained shut, and the action reminded Catalina of just how similar he had always looked to Armand. Armand. Her heart seized a little, and she tried to push the distracting thought away. Still, he had always been the clever one, when it came to their tricks in childhood. She’d storm in, wild and excitable, and he would lower his head and widen his eyes and give off every air of an innocent child. Armand was a terrible liar, so Catalina would weave stories of their afternoons, innocent, well-behaved stories, before whatever governess or maid was responsible for them and Armand would bat those long, dark lashes and very nearly always get them out of trouble. If only she had him with her right now. He would be the help she needed to get everyone she had sworn to protect out of this cave alive, including herself.
But there was no more time for delay. It was time to do something—something outrageous, something worthy of the
old pirate tales and shanties. At that moment, it occurred to her. The idea was as foolish as the day was long and would almost certainly result in her somehow getting injured or, at the very least, shot at, but she had to do something or she would be wasting her very precious chance.
She glanced around and spied a rock coated in seaweed and moss. Draping the plant generously in her hair and across her arms, Catalina stood and walked toward the closest lantern. It was located just below a large rock, and when she stood before it, the light cast her silhouette in an enormous shadow upon the wall.
“Who dares to wake the goddess Calypso?” she roared from atop her perch upon the rock. The room echoed her voice with a powerful ring, and the cave went silent. Mugs stopped in midair, bawdy songs left with the final note unsung, as three-dozen pirates suddenly all turned in her direction. Catalina grimaced. She was in too deep now not to immediately begin swimming.
“I repeat my question.” Her voice was positively booming now, for she had found that it was particularly acoustic in her small corner of the cove. “Who dares to wake the sea goddess Calypso?” With all eyes trained upon her, Catalina lifted her arms high, and the shadows danced upon the wall. “You have stolen my lover.” The final word rang in the silent, charged air. “And for that, you will all suffer.” Where the hell was she going with this? She was aware there was a general sense of restlessness at the table just a few meager feet from where she stood, putting on the world’s maddest masquerade.
“Return him to me and cease your ways, or I shall cast you all to the sea with great joy.”
She heard a murmur, as one pirate whispered loudly to another, “What do we do? Where’s the boy? We’ve angered the sea goddess!” General flummery of the same sort followed.
“Do as I say, and no harm shall come to thee,” she bellowed. “If you disobey me, hell will rain down upon thee.” Her heart was pounding with all the force of a military drum in full thunder, and still, the image of Henri lying against the rock, the thought of Armand declaring it was time someone tried, was enough to fuel her madness. For certainly, this was madness. She was completely mad.
Well, whatever method was most effective.
“Should we bring him to her?” said a nervous-sounding pirate, whose voice cracked on the high end.
Perhaps she had underestimated their adherence to folklore. Well, that could only work in her favor.
“The captain’s keeping him for ransom,” another replied, though his words held a note of doubt.
“We’ll find another ransom,” a third voice put in.
Really, it was a matter of miracles that they had even managed to capture Henri in the first place.
“Bring me the man,” she said, fluttering the seaweed before the lantern to spectacular effect, “or I shall cast a spell that marks you all as the next souls to perish at sea.”
The first pirate who had spoken made no effort to hide his voice now. “She’s talking about the Sea Devil, she is,” he said in a squeak. “I don’t care ’bout no captain. She can have the man.” And he stood from the table so quickly, he knocked over a pile of jeweled serving platters. They hit the ground with a resounding crash, and Catalina knew she was beginning to lose her audience.
“My patience is thinning,” she said. “If I do not receive the man in a minute’s time, I shall damn you all to a watery hell.” There was a flurry of activity.
“He’s right there,” the first pirate squawked. “Over by the chest, do you see?” She turned with a great flourish, as though she hadn’t been scoping out Henri’s location for the better part of an hour.
“Bring him to me.” The room quieted again. “Now.” This was beginning to grow rather enjoyable.
Two enormous men untied Henri’s bonds and brought him to the base of the rock. Henri blinked his eyes open, looking up at her with marked confusion, as if he were witnessing a play and had just been asked to join the actors upon the stage. She gave him a friendly smile, and he blinked as if he had seen a ghost pass before his very wide eyes. Well, now was no time to explain how the de Bourbon brothers’ past had resurfaced.
“Recall your promise to the sea queen, and I shall keep you from harm,” Catalina continued, now stepping down from her position atop the high rock. The trick here was going to be getting Henri, who was, thankfully, somewhat more conscious in all the confusion, into the rowboat and back to the ship. It wouldn’t do to rescue him from pirates just to let him drown. Still, he was in her care, and that had been the fundamental step.
In fact, she was almost beginning to feel a sense of relief cross over her, as she walked down the steps, her moss- and seaweed-covered form enough to pass before the idiot pirates. She focused on handling Henri’s weight, supported upon her shoulder but with great difficulty. In a second, Catalina realized her mistake in believing them out of danger, and all it took was the piercing and all-too-familiar sound of a bullet whistling through still air.
“What in the name of hell and the devil is going on?” came a previously unheard voice, and Catalina turned to the far entrance of the cave, an opening at the other end that she had not before seen. Her heart stopped beating for a full breath, frozen behind her chest in fear. From one captain to another, there was no denying this man was in full custody of his pirate crew and far less credulous of shadow puppets and folktales.
“It’s Calypso, it is, Captain,” came a voice from the long table, and Catalina was torn between trying to make her escape, far slower for the full-grown male perched upon her shoulder, or keeping her focus squared firmly upon the increasingly irate pirate captain.
“Did you just say Calypso?” the captain asked in a voice that would have been considered kind to anyone with the average intelligence of a sea urchin, which was, apparently, the majority of his crew.
“Aye, it was she,” another voice put in, “said we stole her lover, she did. Promised to curse us for all time if we didn’t return him. She said she’d send us straight to the ocean’s bottom, she did.”
Catalina was of the firm belief that if men could spit fire, this pirate captain would be a prime candidate for the position. She began to inch toward the opening of the cave, but without much recourse. After all, what would she do upon reaching the water? No doubt they could row their own boats with several men each much faster than she could do all on her own, especially with the added weight of a near unconscious man.
“Well then, Calypso…” The captain’s focus was now entirely upon her. “Shall we have a little chat regards rules of ownership then?” When she didn’t reply, he continued. “As I see it, you’ve taken something of mine, and I would like it back.”
Catalina squared her shoulders, grateful for the shadows of the cove, which helped to hide her from his voice.
“And as I see it, you took something of mine first,” she replied. She was both pleased and surprised to hear how steady her own voice was. It wouldn’t do much good for the sea goddess to get cold feet.
“Possession is nine tenths of the law,” the captain said. Catalina laughed, forcing a bellowing, echoing sound around the cave, while she repositioned Henri upon her shoulder.
“And I possess,” she replied. “But, please, challenge my strength—at your own risk, naturally.” That was a dangerous move, but it would give her the advantage, if he decided to show his hand to fearing her.
“Do you know who your lover is?” the captain asked, trying a new tack. “He’s the younger owner of the de Bourbon Trade Company. I intend to hold him until the elder brother hands the company over to me. I will not allow you take my hostage from me.” At this, he lunged forward, and Catalina had only enough time to lower Henri to the ground, and none too gently, before she unsheathed her sword and caught the pirate captain’s attack in a fierce parry.
“Do not test your luck with me,” she snarled, now able to see his face in the lantern light, one long scar dragging his skin from corner to corner.
“I need no luck,” he said with another parry. “I sh
all wager upon my skill alone.”
At that, Catalina brought forward a blow that dazed him for a breath, and she withdrew her sword enough to gain the upper ground.
“You know who he is,” she said through clenched teeth. “But do you know who I am?” She pushed off another attack with ease, and the captain finally looked up at her, catching the sight of the woman who had become notorious across the Caribbean. He fell back a step, and she cocked her head to one side.
“I find myself pleased to learn you fear me and my crew more than the sea nymph, herself,” she said. “I shall be going now.” At that, she turned to lift Henri, turned her back for the single second that made all the difference, and all hell broke loose.
There was an incredible shout, and Armand, Delilah, and a few other members of her crew jumped from the shadows and rushed toward her with a battle cry. Armand caught the captain’s sword with his own, and Catalina realized she had just given a pirate the perfect target, her exposed back. With Armand keeping the man busy in a dalliance of swords, she carefully supported Henri down the rocky steps. To her immense relief, the entrance to the cave where her crewmembers had been hiding held several rowboats, two of which belonging to her ship, the other likely to the captain.
With a few swift movements, she managed to get Henri into the water long enough to reach the boat. She deposited him with little fanfare, accepted his grateful smile, and turned back toward the fray.
Armand struggled fiercely against the captain, pushing back the pirate’s sword with the blunt angle of his own, before the sharp side sliced his jaw. As Catalina’s gaze darted around, taking in the scrimmages and shouts of pain and anger, it become all too clear they were outnumbered. Her crew had come on a search party, not a rescue mission.
Well, it was too late to think much on it. Now, she simply needed to ensure their safe return to the ship. She slashed, sliced, kicked, and yelled, and a few minutes later, she had managed to collect all her crew, excepting Armand who was still in a fierce lock with the pirate captain. He had one hand around the other man’s wrist and was trying to break loose his grip on the sword, but the captain struggled and hissed and did not give an inch. Something flickered in of the corner of her eye, and Catalina chanced a single glance, to find a pile of pistols glinting in the glow of the lamplight. She dove for it, darting behind a chest of clothing and jewels, and took a pistol in both hands. The silver chasing glinted again in her grip, but not the way it had before. This wasn’t the glisten of a single lamp against the shine of her gun. Frantic, she turned her head.
