“Well, so do I,” Tristan met him in challenge with his words. “We’ve had some deaths aboard the Falcon over the winter. One of the men I lost happened to be my ship’s musician. I think Gavin will fill that void nicely.” He patted the flute at his side.
“Nay. Ye’re no’ takin’ him!” Birk stepped in front of Gavina with his arms outstretched.
“You took my map, if I must remind you,” Tristan told him. “So, until I find out where you hid the copy, I’m taking not only the boy with me, but you as well, Birk.”
“Never!” Birk dove for his sword lying on the table. When he grabbed it and spun around, his blade met with Tristan’s. The sound of clashing metal filled the small room.
“I don’t have time for this,” Tristan grumbled. “Now put down the blade and come with me peacefully, or I’ll be forced to kill you.”
“Ye willna kill me because then ye’ll never find the map.”
Tristan managed to disarm him, but Birk picked up Gavina’s dagger from the floor and lunged at him again. Once more, Tristan disarmed him.
“Uh oh. Trouble is coming,” said Aaron, looking out the door. “I just saw one of Birk’s men run out of the tavern and it looks like he’s trying to round up more men to fight us.”
“Then let’s be done with this. Everyone, back on the ship,” commanded Tristan. This time, Birk reached out and grabbed Aaron’s sword since his attention was out the door.
“Bid the devil!” spat Aaron, racing after Birk as Birk thrust the sword at Tristan once again.
“I warned you, fool.” Tristan plunged his sword into Birk’s side, causing Gavina to gasp and cover her mouth when she witnessed all the blood. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” Tristan yanked his sword from the man’s side as Birk clutched his wound and fell to the ground. “Here, Aaron,” said Tristan, ripping the sword out of Birk’s hand and tossing it to his brother. “How many times do I have to tell you, never take your eye off your weapon?”
Aaron mumbled something under his breath, snatching his sword from his brother.
A big, burly pirate with a gold front tooth stuck his head into the room. “Cap’n, we’ve looted the tavern but Birk’s men are gatherin’ and comin’ for justice.” He had a bag slung over his shoulder filled with what looked like pilfered items. In one hand, he held a shiny red apple, tossing it up and down. “Shall we go back to the ship?” He caught the apple, taking a huge bite as if he were doing naught but going about a day’s business.
“Mardon, Aaron, help Goldtooth and the others bring the booty back to the ship,” said Tristan.
“What about the map?” asked Mardon. “It’s not in the room. Mayhap we should continue to check the rest of the tavern.”
“Nay, if it was there, someone from our crew would have found it by now,” Tristan told his brothers.
“So we’re leaving without it? I don’t understand,” complained Aaron.
“We’ll find it, just as soon as I get this boy to talk.”
Tristan reached down and picked up the flute to look at it again. Gavina held her breath, waiting for him to give it back to her. “Let’s go, Musician,” he told her, dropping the flute back at his side and turning toward the door.
“I willna come with ye,” she boldly answered, hoping he wouldn’t run his sword through her like he did to Birk because she was resisting.
“What did you say?” He turned around with a scowl on his face. “Is there a reason you’d rather stay here?” He motioned with his head to Birk lying still on the floor in a puddle of blood. “Perhaps, you’d like to join Good Old Birk?”
“Nay,” she answered, trying to hold back her tears. Seeing Birk in a puddle of blood only reminded her that the man had killed her father. She scanned the dead men littering the floor and wanted to scream in terror. Nay, she decided, she really didn’t want to stay here, either.
“Now, you either get moving on your own, or I’ll carry you out of here over my shoulder,” Tristan gave her the ultimatum. “Either way, you’re coming back to the ship and I’ll not hear another word about it. Savvy?”
He reached out and grasped her arm before she could say a word. As he walked, he pulled her along with him.
“Please, dinna take me,” she begged, trying to fight for her life. If she was taken aboard his ship, she may as well die because it wouldn’t take the pirates long to figure out she was a lass. “I dinna ken anythin’ about a map. I wouldna be help to ye at all.”
“I said I don’t want to hear another word about it,” he reminded her. “Now still your tongue!”
As they walked past her father lying dead on the floor in the next room, she stopped in her tracks. “Are ye no’ goin’ to bury the dead first?” she asked him softly.
“Nay. They attacked us. Why should we? Let them rot for all I care.”
“This man isna one of Birk’s men,” she told him trying to keep from crying. “Birk killed him over a silly card game.”
“Really.” He looked down, following her gaze. “Is that your father?” he asked, surprising her that he knew. Her head snapped up to look at him and her tongue shot out to wet her dry lips. She didn’t answer. Instead, she looked down at the floor once more. Gavina could see that the pirates had already gone through her father’s pockets and even taken his boots. She didn’t want to admit that she knew him or they’d be ripping off her father’s clothes next, looking for that stupid map.
“Nay,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’m an orphan.” She spoke to Tristan, but her eyes stayed locked on her father. This would be the last time she ever saw his face. In her mind, she asked him to forgive her for denying she knew him. Even with all her father’s bad choices and vices, she still loved him. She was his daughter, and he had been the man who sired her, giving her life.
Her late mother’s words rang out in her ears, telling her that there is good in everyone but sometimes one just has to look harder in order to find it. Her mother loved Finn even though he was a drunkard and a swindler. She used to tell Gavina that he was not always this way. She’d say that sometimes a man gets lost and just needs a good woman to help him find his way back. If only her mother hadn’t died, Gavina was sure she would have been able to help Finn be the man he once was.
“Are you sure that’s not your father?” Tristan asked her.
“Aye. I’m sure,” she said, feeling a stab to her heart for denying this.
“Well, this man is nothing but a drunk and most likely gambled away everything he owned,” remarked Tristan. “Just leave him, and let’s get going.”
She quickly bent over, using her hand to close her father’s eyes. Anger and despair filled her, overtaking her intense sadness. She might have to leave with the pirates, but she would escape and find that treasure that her father died for. She’d find it and use it to buy back her brother’s freedom from Lord Ravenscar if it was the last thing she ever did.
“Mardon, take the lad to the ship and make sure he doesn’t escape,” Tristan commanded, pushing Gavina forward as they joined the other pirates in the tavern. All of the drinking men and the whores had disappeared.
“Aye, let’s go,” said Mardon, taking her by the arm and guiding her out the door.
Tristan sighed, having had no other choice but to take the boy with them. Gavin knew something about the treasure map, he was sure of it. Mayhap with Birk dead now, Tristan could convince the lad to talk after all. This boy seemed valuable to Birk and he even risked his life to keep the lad with him. That told Tristan everything he needed to know. Gavin was the key to finding the treasure. That is why he couldn’t leave him behind. It might take a while, but Tristan would get him to spill his secrets, no matter how frightened the boy was. He’d find out where Birk hid the copy of the map and then he’d come back and get it.
By the way that Gavin closed the dead man’s eyes in the gambling room, he would bet anything it was the boy’s father. The man looked to be a drunkard and a gambler and a man who always made wrong choices. T
ristan could spot someone like this anywhere since he’d grown up with a father just like that. If he was correct, the boy was better off without him. It wasn’t the first time that Tristan took an orphan aboard his ship, making them part of his crew . . . his family. Ever since Tristan and his brothers left their father and sister behind, his crew had become his new family, even if it wasn’t the same.
Birk wasn’t a pirate, but he was a conniving, no-good wharf rat. This tavern would be crawling with his friends in a few minutes. Tristan didn’t really feel like killing anyone else today, so he decided the best thing to do was to leave before they arrived.
“You there. Show yourself,” he said, stopping at the drink board, sure someone was hiding behind it. “Stand up, or I swear I’ll take off your head.”
“Nay, please dinna do that.” An old man stood up, raising his hands over his head in surrender. “I have a wife and family. Please dinna kill me.”
“I’m not in the habit of killing, unless I’m attacked first or someone’s done me great wrong. Since you’re guilty of neither at the moment, I’m not going to harm you.” He pulled a few coins out of his pouch, tossing them onto the drink board.
“What is that for?” asked the man, shaking like a leaf.
“I want you to bury the dead man lying by the game table. That’s your compensation for giving him a proper burial and a grave marker made of stone. Do you know his name?”
The man glanced over his shoulder into the open room. He kept his hands raised over his head and nodded.
“Aye, he’s a common patron here, and always gamblin’ away his money,” the man relayed the information. “His name is Finn Drummond.”
“That’s the one. Bury him right away.”
“What about the rest of the dead?”
“Do whatever the hell you want with them. They’re not worth the time, so just let the crows peck out their eyes and the rats gnaw at their carcasses. I don’t really care.” He started to walk away, but stopped in his tracks when he had a thought. He looked back over his shoulder. “Did Finn have a son by any chance?”
“Aye,” answered the man. “I believe he had two.”
“Was his son here today?”
“Nay, Lord Pirate. His sons were both taken from him.”
“By pirates?” He raised a brow.
“Nay. Killed by an English lord, I believe. However, I dinna really ken all the details.”
“So he had no son that was here in the tavern today?”
“Nay,” said the man, shaking his head.
“I see.” Tristan was sure he was right, but perhaps he’d misjudged Gavin. He turned to go, but with the man’s next words he froze in his tracks.
“Finn Drummond did have a daughter though.”
“A daughter?” He turned around, his mind racing. That lad did sound and look a little feminine to him, but he wasn’t sure. “Have you ever seen her?”
“Aye, of course I have. She came in here earlier today lookin’ for Finn, bein’ chased by some ruffians.”
“What’s her name?” he asked curiously, starting to wonder if he’d been had.
“I – I’m no’ sure,” said the man. “I think I heard him call her somethin’ like . . . Davina?”
“Was it Gavina,” he asked, everything now suddenly starting to fall into place.
“Aye, Gavina, that’s it.” The man’s head bobbed up and down. “I saw her go into the back room with Birk and her father earlier.”
“Did you see her come out?”
“Nay, Lord Pirate, I didna. But then again, I couldna see much from my hidin’ place behind the drink board.”
Tristan was sure that no girl came out of the back rooms, because if there had been one in there, Tristan would have seen her. Damn, that meant he’d been had after all.
“Don’t forget to bury the man,” grumbled Tristan, turning and heading for the door. Inwardly, he cursed himself for his bad luck. He never should have allowed Nairnie onto his ship. Tristan was superstitious, and rightly so. A woman aboard a ship – especially a pirate ship – was nothing but trouble. Nairnie was old and crusty and no man would want her in his bed, so he didn’t really worry much about that. However, if Gavin was really Gavina, his troubles were just beginning. If her identity was discovered by the crew, he’d have a big problem. Every one of his men would most likely try to roger her at the rail. At this point, he didn’t have much of a choice and had to take her with him. The girl had to know something about the map, and he needed that treasure.
“Will there be anythin’ else, Lord Pirate?” asked the proprietor, still shaking like a leaf.
“Nay. You’ve been more helpful than you know.”
Tristan headed out the door, wondering how in the hell he was going to command a ship with not one, but two wenches aboard now.
Chapter 3
Gavina was pushed along in a group of a dozen or so men as they hurried her away from the tavern and down to the dock toward their ship. Never would she have thought she’d be in the presence of wretched pirates, and as their captive nonetheless.
These men were rugged, ruthless thieves and killers. She didn’t belong here. It was the last place she’d ever want to be. They smiled and laughed as they carried their bags full of booty flung over their shoulders, acting like this was nothing more than a trip to the market for them. Several of the pirates rolled barrels of stolen ale down the pier toward the ship, while others carried wooden boxes containing loaves of bread, vegetables, and even fresh fruit. What gave them the right to plunder a tavern and steal things that weren’t theirs? What sort of beasts acted this way and got away with it? Her anger was growing stronger now, overtaking her fear of being their captive.
When she approached the pier, she looked up to see their ship. It was docked further out in deeper water. Their shuttle boats were all tied to the pier. The ship was large and foreboding. It rose up majestically, its tall masts filling the sky, dwarfing the other ships in the harbor. The pirates didn’t bother to hide their presence here, but rather boldly announced their arrival. Black sails half-unfurled told everyone on the dock exactly who they were.
She broke away from the pirate named Mardon and turned and ran, trying to escape. Unfortunately, she didn’t get far. Tristan stepped out in front of her and blocked her way.
“What’s the hurry, lad? We’re going in the opposite direction if you haven’t noticed.”
For the second time that day, she found her face smashed up against his bare chest since his shirt was unlaced almost down to his navel. Oaken curls of chest hair tickled her nose, threatening to make her sneeze. She quickly stepped back, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Daringly, she lifted her gaze to peruse him close up.
His long hair was loose and lifted in the wind, making him look like a bold Viking. Seeing that beautiful mane only made her miss her long tresses more than ever now. Her hand shot to the back of her neck, feeling the ends of her brutally chopped hair. It made her want to cry out in despair. She’d always prided herself on her lush, long, thick locks. Now it had all been taken away from her, and it felt as if her femininity had been stripped from her as well. Dressed in boys’ clothes with short hair made her feel ugly.
Tristan wore a long, brown leather coat that touched the tops of his knee-high boots. The coat was held shut by a thick belt with a metal buckle that had a skull engraved upon it. His weapons consisted of not only a large broadsword, but a smaller curved sword, two daggers, and something that looked like a hook or a pick. She supposed this is how pirates dressed, armed to the hilt and always ready for a war.
Her eyes fastened to her flute next that he had hanging from his belt as if it were some kind of spoil of war. It swung slightly from the cord she’d previously used to carry it around her neck. Her prized possession had been ripped away from her and was now settled against his groin, causing her to notice the way he filled out his breeches.
He cleared his throat, causing her eyes to shoot up to meet his. Hea
t encompassed her cheeks, probably turning them red. The man was very tall with wide shoulders. The top of her head only came up to his armpit. The intensity of his green eyes made her freeze. She suddenly felt as if she couldn’t breathe. This man named Tristan was downright handsome . . . for a pirate, that is. It made no sense at all, but part of her was intrigued. Could it be some sort of attraction to the man? She shook her head, hoping to clear her terrible thought. No one would ever be attracted to their captor, and that is exactly what he was. This was all wrong and it made her feel disgusted that she had felt this way, even if it was only for a second.
Pirates were evil, no-good, bottom of the barrel scum feeders. Now, if only he would stop looking at her like he could see clear through to her very soul, it might stop her from feeling so anxious. His perusal of her made her feel vulnerable . . . almost as if she were naked.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she raised her chin and met his gaze of unspoken challenge. “I’ll no’ come with ye and be yer prisoner, so leave me be.”
He chuckled, wrapping his long fingers around her shoulders and turning her around toward the shuttle boat. “I can’t do that. Now get into the shuttle and stop causing trouble.”
Her breath hitched at the feel of his touch and a strange surge of excitement ran through her. She expected him to treat her roughly, but he didn’t. A pirate shouldn’t have such a gentle touch, should he? It angered her that her body was responding to him in this manner. This man named Tristan confused her mind. What was the matter with her?
“Dinna touch me!” she spat, pushing his hand away, having to break the connection. The two men that were his brothers looked in their direction curiously.
“Just leave the boy here,” grumbled Mardon, tossing his bag of pilfered goods into the small boat and climbing in after it. “We don’t need troublemakers aboard the Falcon. It’s already trying enough with Nairnie along.”
“Aye,” agreed the pirate named Aaron, following him. “Grandmother actually washed my clothes already and made me hang them from the ship’s lines. She said I was dirty, but she’s wrong. I washed them just last month!”
Tristan (Pirate Lords Series Book 1) Page 6
