“I don’t understand.” Shifting from one foot to the other, I watched him curiously, returning the gaze he had locked on me. “You want me to beat her?”
“No.” Standing, he took the blunderbuss off the table and put it in his belt, turning to look out the window. “She’s too valuable. As much as I believe she could do with several more good beatings to put her in her place, I think we need to use a different tactic.”
He paused, glancing over his shoulder at me, smiling. “I want you to woo her.”
Blinking, I reached up and jammed a finger in my ear, wiggling it vigorously to loosen any earwax that was impeding my hearing. “I’m sorry, did you say woo her?”
“I did.” Turning back to the window, he missed my incredulous stare and gaping mouth. “I want you to court her. Make her love you. She will tell you anything you want to know.”
“She’s married!” I blurted out, wondering why he couldn’t hear how crazy his plan sounded.
“To a man who held her captive on a pirate ship, yes, I know.”
Soundless words flew from my mouth, eyes bugging out of my head. I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? I knew there was no way she would ever fall for anyone besides her Tristan, not with the way she spoke of him.
“Do you understand your orders, Mark?” The use of my real name snapped some sense into me and I shook myself, trying to think of how to answer.
“I . . . I will do my best, Captain.”
He moved, facing me again and smiled his friendly-but-very-dangerous smile. “I believe you will. I don’t have room for useless things on this ship.”
With a flick of the wrist he dismissed me, sitting at his desk. “Send White in to take care of this disappointment,” he said, gesturing to the man he’d killed without a second thought.
“Yes, Captain.”
Practically fleeing from his room, I hurried out the door, closing it tightly behind me and turned, jumping slightly at the crowd gathered around.
“Ye’re alive,” one of the crewmembers said in surprise. “I thought ye were the one he shot.”
“Where’s White?” I asked, ignoring the looks.
“Here.” He appeared, a bucket and sponge in one hand, a grim look on his face. “The lot of you, get back to work. You can’t expect to catch a ship with ours in such bad shape, now can you?”
Slowly, they peeled off in their own directions, casting mutterings and backward glances my way. Sam stood where I’d left her, facing away from me as she stared out over the water. Sighing, I went to her, touching her on the shoulder and motioning for her to follow me.
“Time to go under,” I said gruffly. “There’s going to be a funeral and I don’t want you up here for it.”
She nodded, apparently having already heard someone was shot, and went without another word. As soon as we were in the surgery, the door shut and locked for privacy, I told her everything that had happened, including the fact that I was now supposed to be getting her to tell me things through affection.
“That dirty rat thinks he has everything figured out,” she spat, sitting on the table and checking the cut on her arm. It had healed nicely, but the scab had been itching, judging from the scratch marks around it. “But, he did know a lot more than I thought he did.”
“What are we going to do, Sam?” I asked, feeling slightly desperate. “He wants information, and if he doesn’t get it, I’ll be the one who pays.”
She paused, looking at me seriously. “We’ll give him what he wants,” she said calmly. “You can make it look like you’re hitting on me when we’re not alone. I’ll understand. In the meantime, we need to come up with something that sounds enough like the guesses I gave the Grand Master for him to be satisfied.”
Falling silent, she seemed far away for a moment, her eyes almost glazing over.
“What are you thinking?”
Coming out of it, she focused on me again, frowning. “There were only four people in the room when I told them what I knew from the future—myself, Tristan, the Grand Master, and the man in charge of trying to find the treasure, Captain Lomas. I know that neither Tristan nor I are a spy, so it must be one of the others. Captain Lomas, most likely. It makes me angry, to think that I gave Randall exactly what he wanted without meaning to.”
“It’s not your fault,” I offered. “You didn’t know.”
“No, but I should have been more careful. I said too much. Tristan tried to warn me, but I ended up sharing everything I knew, or thought I knew, about it.” She smiled a sad sort of look at me, her arms wrapping around her knees and hugging them to her chest. “I just hope the Knights make it in time to stop Randall and his men.”
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered, feeling like the palm of my hand was burning as it rested against the small of Sam’s back.
She shifted, obviously uncomfortable as well, but someone was watching just then. The man grinned as he chewed on a sliver of wood he’d peeled off the mop he was using to swab the deck.
“Warm waters, eh, Snake Eyes?” he called, breaking out into cackled laughter, turning and going back to his chore.
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I shifted away from her, leaning over the railing instead as we both studied the horizon. Our act made me feel a sort of dizziness, like I was sick. There was always someone around when we would touch or talk to each other, as we’d planned, but it felt like everyone was easily spotting our lies.
But that wasn’t all.
Swallowing hard, I glanced at her, checking to make sure no one was coming to bother us, and turned to sit against the rail instead, folding my arms and locking my gaze on the far side of the ship.
My feelings weren’t fake—at least, that’s what I was starting to think. There was no way there would ever really be anything between us. I knew that very well. Yet, when I took her hand in mine, or heard her slight laugh as we spoke of whatever we wished, it was more than easy to imagine she actually was falling for me. Even now, standing beside her as she watched for any sign of a ship around us, it felt like I was full of hot electricity, the feel of her skin on mine making me fizz with energy.
Stop, I ordered myself, shaking my head slightly and moving to gaze over the water again. You’re being stupid. Not only is she married, but she’s almost young enough to be your daughter. You’re letting your excitement at having found someone from your own time get to you. That’s all.
Breathing in deeply through my nose, I looked down at my brown boots, sliding the toe of one over the deck with ease. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d had other duties to tend to, but Captain Randall had given me none. Samantha was all he wanted me focusing on, as he’d said to me when I asked if there were other things I could do to clear my head. Every now and then, someone would need help in the surgery, but that was it. Each second I had was spent with her.
Shaking my head, I tried again to shove the thoughts from my mind, glancing up at the exact moment I heard her take in a sharp breath.
“What?” I asked, searching for the culprit of her shock, my hand going to the dagger in my belt. “What is it?”
“Look,” she breathed, nodding toward the watery expanse in front of us.
Confused, I searched in that direction, almost missing what it was she’d seen. “Well, I’ll be damned,” I muttered. “Do you think it’s—”
“Sails!” The watchman in the crow’s nest waved frantically, pointing to the ship Sam had spotted seconds before him. “Sails off the starboard side!”
It was like dropping a piece of cheese into a group of hungry mice. Men started climbing out of every opening, running up stairs and scaling the rigging to get a better view. Others crowded us at the railing, shouting excitedly as they strained to see the tiny speck in the distance.
“Make way, you scallywags!” Randall, having emerged from his cabin, stationed himself just a few feet from us, a telescope in hand. Raising it to one eye, he paused, seeming to examine the vessel for longer than normal. “How far out
are we, Mister MacTavish?”
The navigator, who was peering through his own scope, turned to the captain, exhilaration in his eyes. “It can’t be more than a league or two, sir.”
Turning to the crew around him, Randall grinned, snapping his looking glass shut. “To the oars, men! We’ve got a ship to catch!”
A sound not unlike that of a crowd cheering at a sporting event erupted, feet slapping over the ground as we hurried to our spots. For an instant, I was lost in the enthusiasm of impending battle, but then Sam’s face filled my mind.
Feeling somewhat faint, I turned to her, trying to spot her among the mass of bodies pressing down to the lower decks. Thankfully, she’d stayed put, frowning as she watched the wave of people move ahead of her. Struggling through the press, I made my way back to her, taking her hand firmly in mine.
“Come on. It won’t be safe up here for much longer.”
“I’ve taken a ship before, Mark,” she said sharply, ripping her fingers away.
“What are you doing then?” I asked, exasperatedly. “You know what’s going to happen!”
“That ship could be Tristan,” she hissed, staring off at the vessel we were about to chase down.
“I don’t think Randall is so crazy as to attack his pursuers head on.” Even I heard the hesitance in my voice. Everything I’d learned over the past few weeks had led me to believe we were trying to outrun the Knights Randall knew were coming after us. However, deciding in an instant to turn and fight back instead seemed like something he would do as well.
The brute would do anything if he thought he had a chance at winning.
“Snake Eyes, get Missus O’Rourke below deck and find your oar!” Turning, I saw Randall taking the wheel of the ship, his expression elated as he started the advance toward our target.
Nodding quickly, I took her by the hand and towed her after me, thankful that she only put up minor resistance.
“He has dark hair,” she was saying quickly, with a desperation about her that made my heart hurt. “And he won’t be looking for people to fight—”
“He’ll be looking for his pregnant wife.” Cutting her off, I motioned for her to go down the steps onto the gun deck, and then to the galley and crew quarters, before instructing her past the oar deck and into the hold. “Stay here,” I ordered her sternly. “I’ll come back when it’s over.”
If I’m not dead, I added silently to myself.
She smiled, a sad sort of look and then hugged me, squeezing tightly. “Tristan said the same thing to me the first time I was on board when they took another ship. Be safe, Mark.” She hesitated, whatever she was about to say fading from her lips.
Pulling away, I smiled tightly. “If it’s the Templars, I’ll bring him,” I promised. “Here.” Pulling the dagger out of my belt, I handed it to her, wrapping her fingers around it with care. “Just in case.”
Heart pounding, I hurried up to the oar deck, slipping into my place between the men already hard at work. It was backbreaking labor, rowing a huge boat like this while the wind pulled us along, but it was part of what made this boat so good for pirating. We were a lot faster than our prey, easily catching them when a normal ship might have taken hours or days to come alongside their bounty.
“Put yer back into it, ye rats!” One of the men roared, spurring us forward.
Thoughts of Sam, hidden beneath me, slid from my mind as I threw myself into the chore of rowing, sweat soaking my clothes within just a few moments. We were yelling together as a group, the sound keeping time so we would move at the same pace.
“We’ll have her in half a league!” MacTavish shouted down to us, his cry echoed by several of the men. As one, we seemed to speed our movements, if that were at all possible, heading forward with only one goal in mind—the fight that awaited us.
“Keep speed!” The call came from above again, echoed by those closest to the stairs. “They’re trying to run!”
A breathy laugh shook from my chest and I tightened my grip on the section of oar in front of me. The men around me were buzzing with the same heat I felt, aching to run up top and see what was going on. We would be part of the action soon enough, as long as we kept moving forward.
After what felt like a lifetime, sweat running into my eyes and plastering my hair to my head, the next orders came. “To the guns! Put the fear o’God in them, men!”
The group worked together with efficiency and ease as we flooded up the stairs to the gun deck, each man quiet as we took up our spots. The ship we’d run down was noisy in comparison, the shouts of her men reaching my ears as I crouched next to a cannon, ready to load it at an instant’s notice.
The man next to me nodded and I grabbed the ball, thrusting it down the front of the weapon. Another man used a long pole to shove it in further, while someone poured gunpowder and another readied the wick.
“Open the hatches!”
Jumping up, I undid the latch that kept the tiny window closed before helping to slide the massive cannon forward, its end sticking out of the ship now.
A breath passed, the craft across from us still trying to flee as we came up on her port side, gunshots firing over the railing toward us. A groan to my left suggested that someone had been hit, but I didn’t have time to check; the entire ship was in our view.
“Fire!”
I didn’t even know if the command had been repeated, or if it was Randall himself ordering us around. With a roar, our cannon shot forward, the ball flying toward the other ship and smashing into her side with a satisfying crack. Other shots landed easily as well, my crew not stopping to watch as we loaded and fired again.
The next ball took out their main mast, the wood cracking apart and falling over like a twig, sails billowing through the air before they landed in the water. The beam had fallen on the opposite side of their ship, but there was a cracked railing I could see. Judging from the shouts of the men, it had also broken through two decks. The waves from the sea would soon be flooding in and their boat would be at the bottom of the ocean come nightfall.
The havoc with the mast had allowed us to steer closer. Nets were being thrown, ropes tying the two ships together in haste—we couldn’t let them sink before we got what they were carrying.
Climbing out of the window, I jumped across onto one of the nets, loaded gun in hand, and clambered up the side of the boat.
“Get back, ya filthy pirate!” Someone yelled above me, slashing down with their sword. Narrowly avoiding being hit, I ducked and moved to the side, pointing my pistol at my attacker and shooting before he could even blink. His body slumped forward, the shot having caught him in the chest, and he slowly slid over the rail into the water below.
There was no time to think about what I was doing, or the life I’d just taken. My brain and body were in the place I’d been surviving from for the past ten years—kill or be killed.
Climbing on deck, I found myself to be one of the first of our crew on board, a slew of angry Englishmen brandishing swords and guns of their own as I advanced toward them. The mast had already made messy work of a few of them and there were almost seventy-five men coming behind me. It didn’t even seem to make sense to me to hesitate in anything.
A man with light hair and blood on his forehead ran at me with his sword out, words streaming from his lips that I didn’t bother understanding. Drawing my own blade, I parried his first attack, sidestepping and slicing across his back with ease. The red that appeared on my blade made me feel a kind of elation, my senses urging me forward, my arm swinging back and forth, cutting down anyone who got in my way.
Without hardly any effort, the fighting was suddenly done. It had passed in a blur, the end finding me on the gun deck, a stranger’s blood dripping down the front of my head. No one had surrendered. It had been a fight to the death and every last man on board had been slaughtered. It was like I couldn’t even remember what I’d just done, the red fading away from my vision as I beheld the carnage left behind.
�
�Well done, Snake Eyes,” Randall said behind me. Turning, I stared at his own battle torn form, his jacket cut on one shoulder and a flash of gunpowder on his cheek. He nodded in approval to me, standing over the man I’d just finished.
Suddenly, I remembered Sam, her words coming back to me full force.
“Are they Dogs, Captain?” I asked him huskily, looking at the dark haired man whose blood I now wore.
“Unfortunately, no. Hopefully next time.” He laughed, gazing toward the gash in the side of the ship. His eyes narrowed some as he studied it, and then he turned, calling up to those above. “Get the cargo! Bring it all aboard and then burn what’s left of this mess.”
“Burn?” I said in surprise. “Why? She’s going down on her own.”
“It’ll leave a message for the Dogs following us,” he stated easily, leaning over and going through the pockets of the man he’d killed. “A calling card, of sorts.”
“I thought we were trying to get away from them.” I spoke carefully, not knowing exactly what was safe to say to him about this.
“Only for a time.” He straightened, studying me with a kind of cold self-absorption.
“Don’t you think they’ll kill us all if they catch us? I mean, that is what they do, isn’t it?” I felt somewhat like a schoolboy, waiting to be scolded by his teacher for asking so many questions, but I couldn’t help it. There was something about this moment that was telling me to ask him the things I wanted to know. Maybe it was the camaraderie of having just fought together, or maybe it was even because he seemed to be in a good mood. Either way, he motioned me forward, a grin covering his face.
“You’ve never seen it, so you wouldn’t know. The Knights Templar have a treasure so massive that it took an entire fleet of ships to move it. They’ve been hiding it from the world, from me, and I’m finally finding out their secrets. We are, together. I promise, more answers wait on the ship that’s coming for us.”
“More answers to where the treasure is, so we can steal it,” I said slowly, not quite understanding his excitement.
Carried Away (The Swept Away Saga, Book Two) Page 21
