Quickly scanning the water, Brody searched the area, but didn’t see the old woman anywhere. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. It’s too late. She’s an old woman and cannot survive a fall from the ship. If she fell overboard, the sea has already claimed her. Now get below deck before the same thing happens to you!”
He pulled her with him toward the door of the hold, having a hard time keeping his grip on her since the squall was not yet over.
“Nay! Let go of me,” cried Gwen, fighting him, accidentally hitting his injured shoulder. He bit back the pain. “We can’t let her drown. We need to go after Nairnie.”
Brody spoke through gritted teeth now, having no more patience this day. “Gwen, that’s enough! She’s gone, and we have to move on without her.”
“Nay, Brody! She can’t be dead.” Tears mixed with rain washed down her face.
“Get below deck and stay there,” he commanded. “I’ll not lose you, too.” Yanking the door open to the hold, he shoved her inside, closing and locking the door behind her.
“Let me out!” came her muffled scream as she banged with both fists upon the wood.
“I’m sorry, Gwen, but it’s for your own good. I can’t focus on anything else unless I know you are safe.”
“Cap’n, is everythin’ all right?” asked Big Garth who had once been the cook on the Sea Mirage.
“Aye, what is it?” Odo, another of his old crew, limped over the deck, making his way toward them.
“We’re turning the ship around and heading for home,” Brody instructed.
“Are the women in the hold?” asked Big Garth, looking at the door as Gwen continued to pound on it from inside.
“Just my wife,” he told them. “I think the old woman fell overboard.”
“Overboard? Shall I go up the lines and see if I can spot her?” asked Odo.
Brody hesitated a moment, weighing out the consequences. If they stayed there to look for the old woman, there was no telling how many more of them would die in the storm. And if Odo climbed the lines, he was sure to see the pirate ship and announce it. Brody couldn’t allow either of those things to happen.
“Nay, don’t climb the lines, it’s too dangerous right now. Just scan the water for the old woman over the sidewalls. I’m sure it’s too late since she could never endure the fall at her age.” It hurt him to answer this way, but they all knew what he said was true. Plus, it was his duty to see to the safety of the entire crew. He couldn’t endanger them all just to look for one old woman. It could be no other way. “Tell Lucky to turn this ship around and get us the hell out of here.”
“So there’s no chance of savin’ Nairnie?” asked Big Garth, challenging his decision. The entire crew had become fond of the old woman since she acted like a mother to all of them. He couldn’t blame the man for trying. Brody would miss her, too.
“If you see her, let me know, but don’t get your hopes up. I’m telling you, there is no chance she could survive the fall,” said Brody. “Now put out that fire because we are heading home.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” said Odo, and the two men turned to go.
Barely able to tolerate the pain, Brody was sure his shoulder was broken. Even if he wanted to continue this mission, he couldn’t. He’d be of no use to anyone now. In his condition, he’d never be able to swing a sword if Gwen’s brothers decided to board the Desperado and attack. Nay, Brody would not be able to defend his wife, and this didn’t sit right with him at all.
Gritting his teeth to bear the pain, he headed to the sidewall and looked down into the water once more. Nairnie was nowhere to be found.
“I’m sorry, Nairnie, but I have to get Gwen to safety,” he said under his breath. “I’m sorry you’ll never be able to meet your grandsons even though I know how much it meant to you. But at least now you’ll be with your son, Cato, in the afterworld.”
While he didn’t see Nairnie, he did see the pirate ship in the distance and it was getting closer. Hopefully, his crew would be too distracted with turning the ship around to notice.
However, if he could see the Falcon, then that meant their captain could see the Desperado, too. This was his last chance to get Gwen home safely. Bid the devil, he would do it, even if it meant breaking his promise to her. It was for her, and also for their children. Aye, this was the right thing to do.
“Do ye see Nairnie, Cap’n?” called Odo from the deck.
“Nay. She’s gone,” he called back, knowing they had to leave right now. His head told him to acknowledge the other ship, since this was the goal of their mission, but his heart told him otherwise. If Gwen hadn’t been along, he might reconsider. But now, after already losing Nairnie, he realized there was no decision to be made. It could be no other way. He had to protect the mother of his children.
“Take us home, Lucky,” he called out from the deck, climbing the stairs to the sterncastle. “Get us the hell out of here because we’re aborting the mission.”
“Are ye sure ye want to do this?” Lucky asked in confusion.
“That’s right, I do.” Brody sighed and nodded slightly, once more looking out to the angry sea. “I’m taking my wife away from this godforsaken place. She’s going home where she belongs. If her brothers are never found, I no longer care. All I’m concerned about is my wife’s safety.”
Chapter 1
Tristan Fisher, Pirate Captain of the Falcon, held his ship steady in the high waves. The squall had come out of nowhere, and they hadn’t even had time to prepare for it. Still, it didn’t matter. Having spent a lifetime on the water, Tristan felt at home in any type of weather conditions.
Peering out to the sea, he thought at first his eyes were playing tricks on him. Blinking twice and looking again, he realized he really did see something in the distance. That is, something that he never thought he’d see again in this lifetime and certainly didn’t expect to find here and now. It was his father’s fishing ship, the Desperado, and it was coming right toward them.
“Ramble, get over here,” he called out to his cabin boy who was the messenger of the ship and tended to his needs as well as the needs of his two brothers.
A young man with movements as quick as a rabbit and an overabundance of untethered energy, Ramble bounded up the stairs of the sterncastle, coming to an abrupt halt at Tristan’s side.
“What is it, Cap’n? Did ye see somethin’?” asked Ramble. He looked quickly at Tristan, and then his eyes darted out to sea and back again. “Is there somethin’ botherin’ ye? Because if there is, I can help ye out. Just tell me what I can do no matter what it is and I’ll do it.”
Ramble was a lad of ten and five years. Tristan wasn’t even sure what the boy’s real name was. He’d just called him Ramble since the day he’d met him because of the fact he was always rambling on about one thing or another. He’d been brought aboard after one of their raids in Scotland about six years ago. Actually, Ramble, being an orphan, had been trying to rob them at the time. Instead of cutting off his hand since he was so young, Tristan took a liking to him and ended up keeping him as part of his crew. He found that orphans, especially the younger ones, always made the most loyal crewmembers. Ramble might be pesky at times, but he’d never caused half the amount of trouble as Tristan’s brothers, Mardon and Aaron.
“Cap’n? Did ye hear me?” asked Ramble, waving a hand in front of Tristan’s face.
Tristan gripped him by the wrist, slamming his hand down upon a wooden box. His dagger followed, the tip sticking into the wood between Ramble’s fingers.
“Never do that again,” he warned the boy in a low and even voice. “You do, and you’ll find your hand severed from your body next time. Savvy?” Rain pelted down, soaking Tristan’s long, brown hair. Water dripped from the end of his nose, dribbling onto the boy’s hand.
Ramble’s eyes opened wide and he swallowed forcefully. Daringly, he checked to see that his fingers were still all intact. “So sorry, Cap’n,” he squeaked out. “Ye just seemed . . . distracted today, that’s all.”<
br />
“Contemplative, Ramble. Never distracted,” Tristan corrected him, always priding himself on the fact that he was the only one out of his siblings with stable emotions and a clear head. However, listening to Ramble all day long sometimes tended to wear on him. Today was one of those days.
Tristan learned to ignore the boy’s talking most of the time, only putting up with him because he was one of the best thieves he had. Ramble could disappear in a crowd of people and reappear on the ship, having picked the pockets of every man in town before they even noticed. Sometimes one had to put up with irritations to get what one wanted. It was just one of those things.
“Find my brothers and tell them to join me.” Tristan’s wet hair clung to his shoulders as the wind bit at his exposed flesh. However, he was accustomed to days like this. He could also tell the squall was letting up, and would be over soon.
“Aye, Cap’n,” said Ramble, hurrying back down the stairs.
It was late spring and the last few months had been sparse when it came to pillaging and plundering. Not many ships had traveled the North Sea since last fall. Tristan’s crew was hungry and ornery and their supplies were running low. If they hadn’t made an agreement to stick to the North Sea, he would have raided the channel by now. Well, they would just have to dock again soon and raid on land, not that he liked to do that. Tristan was more of a sea pirate, and tried to keep his raids to the water. In cases like this though, he didn’t have much of a choice.
He steered the Falcon toward the ship he saw in the distance. Sure it was the Desperado, he couldn’t imagine why his father would take his fishing ship on the North Sea, especially this far from home. It was a dangerous time of year and the weather was unpredictable. His father’s ship was small compared to the Falcon. It could easily be smashed to pieces from high, turbulent waves. The Desperado was a good ship, but not nearly as large and sturdy as the one that Tristan now commanded. Neither was it made to endure bad weather and rough waters like this. To even risk himself and his crew, his father must have good reason. Aye, it must be something of great importance for him to come after them this far away from home.
The storm started to recede, but it continued to rain. Still, it didn’t bother Tristan. His home was on the sea. On his ship and in the water is where he belonged. The rougher the sea became, the more he liked it because it made him feel alive. Tristan loved a challenge and had never backed down from one in his life. His biggest accomplishment was that he stole the Falcon from his father and convinced his brothers to join him. Tristan had been a pirate captain since the age of seventeen. If it meant sailing right into the midst of trouble to get what he wanted or go where he planned, he’d do it without even batting an eye.
Pushing a long strand of hair from his face, he watched his father’s ship get tossed about in the waves. It was obvious his father’s crew was struggling. If they weren’t careful, they’d end up capsizing and going down.
Almost as if his father could hear his thoughts, the Desperado suddenly turned direction and headed away from him. Still, this made no sense to Tristan. His father, Cato Fisher, was once a pirate and feared nothing. If he came this far to find his sons, why the hell was he turning around now when he’d obviously seen the Falcon? Something wasn’t right here and Tristan was determined to find out what.
“Batten down the rest of that cargo quickly before we lose it in the storm,” yelled his brother, Mardon, hurrying up the stairs to join him. Mardon was quartermaster, or second in command on the Falcon, also serving as Tristan’s first mate.
At eight and twenty years of age, Mardon was just a year younger than Tristan. Their youngest brother, Aaron, was six and twenty. Each with a personality of his own, the brothers were nothing alike. Sometimes that was a good thing, but they also disagreed often and had their share of quarrels.
Mardon’s white shirt was open in the front, exposing his broad chest and dark ringlets of hair. The men had become used to any weather and, in the summer months, often walked around with very little clothing at all.
Mardon’s bright blue eyes sought out Tristan’s green ones. Concern shown within them. “Ramble said you called for me. Do you need me to bring the Falcon through the storm safely?” The ship tossed about, but the men stayed solid, having their sea legs about them.
“Nay, I’ve got it.”
“You know that I can handle the wrath of an angry sea and bring us out alive and unscathed.” Mardon held great pride in his skill of being able to sail a ship through storms and rough waters. It was guided by his inborn ability to always be able to get out of any harrowing situation. Especially if the situation involved a beautiful woman. He was cunning and wise, and seemed to be able to sniff out trouble before it reached them, guiding the crew to safety before they were ever caught.
“It’s not the sea that takes my concern tonight,” Tristan told him as the wind whipped at the sails, filling them with air. The ship moved quickly over the water.
Since Tristan was the eldest of the three brothers, he’d claimed the title of captain for himself. Mardon often challenged him since he’d always thought he should be captain and didn’t like being told what to do. Aaron, on the other hand, didn’t care which of them was captain as long as it wasn’t him. He was the wild one of the bunch and liked his freedom. He didn’t want to be saddled down with having to reprimand a drunken crew or make any decisions that involved the destiny of others.
“Where’s our brother?” asked Tristan, following the path the Desperado had taken. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of spring. He could see the clouds breaking in the distance and a small stream of sunlight starting to shine through. It was like new life was budding and something mysterious was about to develop. Aye, he felt anxious and, at the same time, cautious because he was sure it all had something to do with his father but he didn’t know what.
“Aaron, get down here,” Mardon called out, using the flat of his hand to shelter his eyes from the rain as he peered upward. “He’s up in the lookout again. Can’t keep him out of there even in a damned storm.”
As the ship’s boatswain, or bosun, Aaron’s responsibility was to make sure that everything was in good shape and the vessel was safe for travel. He was in charge of the crew, setting the sails, dropping the anchor, and making sure the deck got swabbed.
“I’m on my way,” Aaron shouted from up above. Instead of climbing down the ratlines carefully in the storm, like anyone would, Aaron took hold of a loose line and swung down like a monkey. He dropped to the deck right between his brothers with a loud thump, almost knocking into them. The ship listed just then, and he stumbled, hitting up against Mardon.
“Dammit, Aaron, climb down instead of jumping.” Mardon pushed him away.
Aaron righted himself and his ochre eyes glared at his brother. He resented being the youngest of the three and often felt as if they were taking advantage of him at times. Tristan had to admit that it was probably true. It was just something that older siblings did.
“Stop it, both of you,” said Tristan with a sigh. Sometimes he felt like he’d taken on the role of a parent ever since the three of them left the fishing industry to turn to piracy once again. Their father stayed behind with their twelve-year-old sister, Gwendolen, after the death of their mother. Actually, Tristan and his brothers blamed their father for their mother’s death and had never really forgiven him. “Aaron, if you’d wear shoes once in a while, mayhap you’d be able to stand upright in a storm.”
“That’s right,” agreed Mardon. “Wear shoes.”
“And Mardon, if you’d stop telling Aaron what to do, mayhap he’d stop resenting you so much.” Tristan shook his head, keeping his eyes on the churning sea.
“That’s right,” agreed Aaron, a long blond strand of hair covering one eye. “I don’t like being a third wheel.”
“Listen up, both of you. I’ve been trying to tell you something,” Tristan continued.
“Oh, Tristan, I saw another ship from up in the look
out basket,” Aaron told him anxiously. “I couldn’t see the flags clearly in the rain, but somehow the ship seemed familiar.”
The three men stood in the pouring rain, acting like it didn’t matter. And it didn’t. Living on a ship, they were always exposed to the elements and learned to live with it.
“Another ship? Is that why we’ve changed course?” asked Mardon, hard to fool even in the midst of a storm. He always knew when the ship changed directions without having to be told. “Let’s go faster and mayhap we can catch it and raid it. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen another ship out here. Mayhap our luck is changing.”
“Nay, we can’t raid this one.” Tristan glanced up at the sky. The rain suddenly let up and the clouds parted. It looked like the storm was just about over. This was common out here on the sea. Storms and squalls blew up out of nowhere and were gone just as fast as they started.
“Why can’t we raid it?” asked Mardon. “I’m the quartermaster and decide which ships we board. I say we do it.”
“Nay, I told you we can’t. Not this one.”
“Why not?” asked Mardon again. “Is it a Cinque Ports ship? If so, even more reason to raid them since the bounty will be in abundance.”
“Nay, it’s because it is the Desperado,” said Tristan in a calm voice. “It was headed right toward us, but now it’s changed course and is headed away from us.”
“The Desperado?” asked Mardon and Aaron together.
“Father’s here?” Aaron stretched his neck, looking over the side of the ship. He wasn’t as tall as his brothers, but he was lithe and twice as fast. He wore a red head cloth covering his hair, and had two gold hoop earrings, both in the same ear. “So that’s why it looked familiar to me.”
“It’s his ship all right,” said Tristan. “I’d know it anywhere. However, I’m not convinced he’s on it.”
“Why not?” asked Mardon, gripping on to the railing as the ship rocked again.
Tristan (Pirate Lords Series Book 1) Page 2
