Cutlass (Cutlass Series)

by Ashley Nixon

  Then, using Leaf for support, Larkin leaned into him, kicking up her legs, her heeled feet smashing into Barren’s chest. He fell backward into the sand, and was then met with Larkin’s ridicule—as if the pain that shot through him wasn’t enough.

  “You’re a bloody bastard!” she seethed. Leaf pulled her back, holding her in his tight grasp so she couldn’t maneuver again.

  “I didn’t think ladies spoke with such crudeness,” Leaf laughed, which annoyed Barren even more, considering what had just happened.

  Barren got to his feet, resisting the urge to put his knife at her throat and said, “I had no wish to kill you, but if you have any belief in the stories you hear about me, you better think twice before you ever do that again.”

  His threat didn’t seem to sway her, because she glared just as fiercely as before. Barren stood back and met Leaf’s eyes. He didn’t have to speak for the Elf to know what he was thinking. As Leaf fitted the gag over Larkin’s mouth, she tried to scream and lurched violently away from him, but Barren was there to hold her tightly against him as she struggled, earning more than his fair share of profanity-laden curses.

  When the gag was in place, Barren pushed her toward Leaf so he could lead her to the ship—he’d had enough of her.

  “Come on. I can hear them searching for her,” said Leaf. “They’ll come here first. We should be on our way.”

  Barren followed behind them, feeling humiliated and defeated. As they left the shore, he noticed Larkin’s scarf on the ground. He kicked it where it lay. Tonight he had met his equal.

  As they headed toward the ship, Barren could hear Leaf chuckle now and then. He ground his teeth. He knew the Elf wouldn’t let him forget his near-defeat at the hands of a girl. He wondered where Larkin had learned to fight like that. What use were those skills to a lady of Maris? Perhaps her father had wanted her to be well-prepared, just in case she was hauled off by pirates. But Larkin wouldn’t have been a target until she decided to marry William, and those skills weren’t from a few weeks of instruction—no, they, like Barren’s, had come from a lifetime of training.

  The Kendrick sat behind several large rocks on the other side of the port. It was a hard task moving through the brackish water and mud that plagued the shore on the way there, but the three fared well enough and ended up safely on the ship, and as far as they knew, unseen by anyone. Barren’s crew didn’t manage to do much other than stare at the girl he had kidnapped.

  “That’s William’s fiancée?” asked Sam as Barren approached him. Sam towered over the helm. He was broad and bulky and when he stood with his arms crossed, everyone around him felt intimidated.

  Barren turned and watched as Leaf helped Larkin kneel down and then sit on the deck; her hands remained tied behind her back. Then the Elf moved toward the helm where he kept a bag of supplies for treating wounds and other illnesses caused by the sea.

  “Don’t be fooled,” Barren said to Sam, and his hand tightened around his shoulder, keeping pressure on his wound. “She’s not all pretty and sweet.”

  “Don’t let him fool you,” said Leaf. “He’s just angry because he found himself in a little trap. That’s what he gets for underestimating his opponent.”

  “I certainly overestimated our friendship, considering you chose entertainment over my life.”

  “You’re still here. Quit being dramatic.” Leaf rolled his eyes.

  “Fix this,” said Barren, taking off his jacket and moving his injured arm in Leaf’s face. The Elf scrunched up his nose in disgust, but Leaf was a healer; he had seen worse. Shoving Barren’s shoulder out of his face, he said, “You can wait. Ladies first.”

  Leaf walked over to Larkin whose eyes were so fierce, they almost looked glassy. He spoke to her quietly for a moment, and then Barren watched as the Elf removed her gag and cut the ropes that held her wrists captive. He cleansed her wound, smeared a clear slave on her fingers, and bandaged her hand. When he was finished, he secured her wrists in the ropes again, only now her hands rested comfortably in her lap.

  “Oh yes,” Barren said as Leaf approached. “Leave her tied up like that, see if she escapes by morning.”

  “She’ll be fine.”

  “I think you revel in defying me,” Leaf chuckled, and Barren knew that technically, as quartermaster, Leaf had the ability to override any orders Barren gave—that was part of the code.

  The Elf poured the herb mixture he used on Larkin’s hand into the ocean. Sitting on one of the steps leading to the helm, he patted the space next to him. Barren sat. The Elf poured water from his canteen into the wooden bowl and sprinkled more herbs into it. All of his actions were slow and precise, right down to dipping a rag into the mixture, so when Leaf jammed the soaked poultice into his arm, Barren didn’t react well.

  “Dammit, Leaf! What did I do to you?” He cowered away from the Elf, holding his arm, as the gash started bleeding profusely.

  “That’s for making yet another stupid decision that almost got you killed!”

  “Leaf, I’m far from death, don’t you think? I’ve been closer than this before.”

  “The fact that your veins are filled with immortal blood does not make you invincible. You’ll do well to remember that, Barren Reed.” Leaf said nothing more and focused on his work—smearing salve on the pirate’s arm, and bandaging it tightly. He left without another word.

  For Barren, it wouldn’t be a normal day if he didn’t do something to get on the Elf’s nerves. Sometimes he felt like everything he did was stupid, because that’s what Leaf always said. He cast his gaze over to Larkin. She was examining her binds. Barren wouldn’t be surprised if he found her gnawing on them later in an attempt to break free.

  He unbuttoned his shirt and surveyed his chest where Larkin had kicked him. Broken skin and a little bit of blood marked two places on either side of his sternum where her heels had hit him. The wounds weren’t nearly as bad as they had felt. When he looked up, he caught Larkin’s eyes on him, and he buttoned his shirt quickly. He didn’t want her to know she’d harmed him any more than was already visible.

  Barren stood and moved up the helm. Seamus was standing there beside Sam. He was a thin man with gray hair that swept his shoulders and he knew weapons better than anyone in the Orient—which was why Barren had chosen him as his Weapons Master. There was an odd brightness to his eyes and he was laughing. Barren could just imagine why—it wasn’t every day Barren was beaten by a girl.

  “Didn’t think you’d snag such a beauty,” said Seamus.

  “She’ll be more trouble than she’s worth,” grunted Slay as he plopped down on the deck, having been up in the crow’s nest. The dwarf took his place beside Seamus and crossed thick arms over his chest. “I say ye had a bad idea.”

  “I’m aware that it wasn’t one of my best.” Barren folded his arms over his chest and glared at Larkin, almost mimicking Slay. Then he watched as Larkin drew her legs up and managed to rest her head on her knees, turning away from the pirates. She seemed almost a child then, perhaps sick with the reality of her situation. Barren felt the angry tension in his face give way to a frown.

  “Go find her a blanket, Slay,” Barren ordered.

  “But…but she’s a prisoner!”

  Barren glared at the dwarf. Slay exhaled sharply, and stomped away, diving into the hatch to find a blanket. Seamus glanced at Barren, his old eyes permanently squinted and watery.

  “You know, you have time. You can change your mind. Take her back.”

  Barren wasn’t sure why, but the notion angered him. “No.” he said resolutely. In the end, Barren had kidnapped Larkin for one reason, and if her disappearance didn’t bring William right to him, nothing would.

  Seamus shook his head. Barren expected him to say something, but the old man turned and hobbled away. A loud crash came from below. After a moment, Slay climbed out of the hatch, a blanket in hand. He walked up to Larkin and stuck out his hand to give her the blanket. She stared at him, looking both curious and confuse
d. Slay grew impatient and dropped the blanket at her feet, turning swiftly. He walked away grumbling, and went back to his post in the crow’s nest.

  “Where to, Barren?” asked Sam, hands on the helm. Though it was dark, they all knew they couldn’t sit here so close to Maris. They would at least have to retreat to the Cliffs.

  “We will return to the Cliffs for the night. If no one is searching for her by daybreak, we leave altogether.”

  Sam shrugged. “You’re the captain.”

  ***

  Larkin had a hard time trudging through the mushy path of water, rocks and mud wearing a ball gown. She tripped several times on the too long skirt, only to be caught up in the ever-present arms of her kidnapper. It was infuriating. She would prefer being covered in mud, rather than allowing Barren’s constant attempts to keep her on her feet.

  She couldn’t really figure out how to feel—she was scared, yes, but also strangely intrigued. She knew why they’d taken her: as bait to lure William to sea. Her father had warned her that she might be targeted, and she felt stupid having been taken. Every time she looked at Barren, anger flared in her chest.

  She’d decided to leave the engagement party after spotting Barren. She’d gone through her options—returning home meant signaling a carriage and drawing attention, and while the castle might offer safety, it didn’t offer her peace. That’s why she’d chosen to head to shore—why would a pirate ever suspect she’d go there? She was a lady, after all. She’d thought she had been discreet on her way out, even escaping Barren Reed’s notice…but, instead, she’d drawn it.

  She fell again and jerked away when she felt his hand on her arm.

  “I am perfectly capable of standing on my own,” she spat.

  Barren gave a short laugh. “Really? Because you’ve been stumbling all over since we left the ship.”

  Larkin reached down and gathered her dress up as much as she could and continued forward. “If it is too bothersome for you, we can cut the skirt away.”

  Larkin twisted, almost slipping as she did. Her eyes fell upon Barren, narrow and unkind.

  “You will not touch me.”

  Barren held up his hands. “I was just offering an option to ease your struggling.”

  “I’m not struggling!”

  She turned around and to her great annoyance, fell again as the rocks and mud gave way beneath her feet. This time, Barren stood aside as she got to her feet again. She refused to look at him, her face burning with embarrassment.

  Soon, the large mouth of a cave appeared before them, an endless hole in one of the many cliffs. It rested before the water silently. Larkin gazed behind her—no sign of Maris lingered there—no outline of the port, no castle, not even lantern lights. Barren gave her a little push and they were engulfed by the darkness.

  The crew filed into the cave, one by one. Barren steered Larkin toward a wall, leaving her in the muggy, dank atmosphere.

  “Start a fire, Leaf,” Barren’s voice rose in the darkness.

  Larkin scoffed. “And draw your enemies to you…good idea.”

  As she spoke, blue fire sparked at the center of the cave, and Leaf’s face was illuminated over the glow. “It’s not a normal fire, Lady,” said the Elf. “It will only provide us with a soft glow so that you may eat and, most unfortunately, see our faces.”

  Larkin stared at the fire apprehensively. Despite being half-Elf, Larkin had been taught to believe that Elves shouldn’t be trusted—that they were mischievous folk, devious and unkind and their magic was worse. Her governess had said that during Cathmor’s reign as king, the people of the Orient endlessly feared attacks by magic. Even now, there were rumors that the Elves hid a powerful magic that had the potential to destroy the whole of Mariana. It was for this reason only that Lord Alder was still allowed to rule his kingdom, which was technically within the bounds of the Orient and should be ruled by the King of the Orient.

  “Is that magic?” she asked.

  Leaf laughed, clearly amused. “No,” he said and extended his palm to her—tiny seeds were stuck to his hand. “Unless you count seeds and herbs as magic.”

  Larkin didn’t say anything. Instead, she looked around, observing the cave they were in. The place looked much like a storage room with pots and pans stacked in the corner, a few sacks of potatoes, and even more sacks of apples. Several barrels filled the back of the cave; she imagined they were full of ale or wine. Then there were fragments of everyday life that made her think this was where Barren and his crew stayed when they weren’t sailing before Maris, awaiting the chance to attack ships and kill William Reed. Makeshift beds were scattered about, composed of hay, a blanket and a pillow, and even some clothes hung above her head on a frayed rope. The light from Leaf’s magic fire did not make for a warming glow; instead, it cast bluish shadows on the wall, and gave everyone’s skin a pallid flush.

  Her head shot toward the entrance as a laugh filled the cave. It was deep and strangely rough and it emanated from Barren. Larkin felt chills prick her arms. She found it strange that Barren and his crew ambled about this cave doing completely normal things like laughing. She always imagined them plotting to kill, constantly lusting for blood, and using especially crude manners. While she had experienced the crude manners, the other two things had yet to be seen, and she wondered when they would transform into the monstrous men she knew them to be.

  “Where are the twins?” Larkin asked suddenly. The twins were Natherious and Datherious—the king’s sons—and she didn’t see them anywhere.

  Barren chuckled. “You already admire members of my crew? Now, that did not take long.”

  “I do not admire them,” Larkin protested. “They are traitors to their crown—”

  “Watch yer tongue,” Slay snapped. “The twins won’t like what yer saying. Like it or not, they’re still yer princes.”

  Larkin glared at the dwarf.

  “They are keeping watch, Lady,” said Barren, his back was to her as he and Sam unrolled a blanket composed of twigs and leafy branches over the mouth of the cave. Now the opening that once overlooked the moonlit ocean was gone, hidden from unwanted eyes. “We must have someone watching out for your saviors.” Barren brushed his hands together, removing dust and bits of grime.

  “If you are thinking William will save me, you are wrong.” She sat before the enchanted fire.

  “After the evening I had with you, I wouldn’t save you either.” Barren pushed a stick into the fire and sparks exploded above it. Then he took a seat opposite Larkin.

  “But your hope in capturing me was to lure your brother out to sea. He will not follow.”

  “And why are you so sure? He does love you, doesn’t he?” Barren questioned with sarcasm.

  Larkin’s features were frigid. “My father will be the one to find you, and he does not fear you.”

  Barren laughed deeply. “You think my brother fears me?”

  “If he does not face you, then he must fear you.”

  “So you think he is a coward?” Barren raised a brow.

  Larkin’s expression was cold, and she refused to speak further. She didn’t owe Barren any explanation for how she felt about her fiancé.

  “I often call him a coward,” Barren continued instead. “But I know his fear—he does not want to meet me on my own turf. I am master here. And I would not want to meet him on his. So you are my only option, unfortunately for me.”

  Larkin raised a brow. “By the end of this, Barren Reed, you will wish you never met me.”

  “I already do, trust me.”

  Silence fell and Leaf sat next to Barren near the fire. The Elf handed him bread, and he pulled at it with his teeth. Larkin watched him quietly, pressing her lips together. Earlier, she had compared Barren to William, but really, they didn’t look all that much alike. Barren’s skin was bronzed, his hair was lighter, almost blond in places, from exposure to the sun’s rays. He had a strong jaw, and he had higher cheekbones. Now and then, he moved his long hair behind his ears
when it fell in his face. He had the boyish charm William lacked, and though the passion that lit his eyes was motivated by the death of another, it was strangely inviting. In the few minutes she had spoken with him, she’d seen both the depth of his pain, and the spirit of his will. It was fascinating, and she wondered what those desperate feelings would produce if used for good.

  She was drawn from her thoughts when Leaf uttered a very impish laugh. “You know, she hasn’t actually asked you to take her back. I wonder why?”

  “What good is it? You won’t,” said Larkin.

  “You’re right—I haven’t got what I want yet,” said Barren. “But I’d think a lady would miss the warmth of her soft bed and her feather pillow.”

  She pressed her lips together and attempted to suppress the anger his assumption ignited within her.

  “I don’t intend to be in your care long, Barren Reed.”

  “So you really do think your father will be the one to rescue you?”

  “My father hates everything you stand for,” Larkin said evenly. “He hated your father, and he will detest that you have me.”

  “I can’t imagine what my father could have done to yours other than exist.” Barren spoke with as much vigor as she. “Tell me, did you get all your ideas about the kind of person I am from your father?”

  “I don’t need to gather ideas from anyone. You’re a pirate—by default that makes you a terrible man,” she replied.

  “Terrible? What have I done? I did not capture you to hurt you, or ask for ransom.”

  “You did not do those things because you do not desire gold, and my pain would not ease your pain. Only one thing will, and that would be William’s death. That has been your only goal.”

  “If I wanted to, though, I could hurt you. I could break your heart.”

  It was Larkin’s turn to laugh. “By killing William?”

  “I suppose that all depends on who has your heart,” said Barren. He gazed at her for a moment, and then he smirked, moving away from the fire toward a pallet on the rocky ground. As he prepared his bed, Larkin’s voice rose behind him.