Northern Lights Trilogy

by Lisa Tawn Bergren

  Riley crossed his arms. “Just like that? I’ve been workin’ my tail off for nigh on to six weeks, and you think you can fix it like that?” He snapped his fingers.

  Elsa did not react to his irritation. She supposed she would feel the same if their roles were reversed. “I met the Emperor today,” she said quietly.

  “Emperor Meiji?” Riley asked in wonder, sinking to the settee across the table from her.

  “Aye. One and the same. He arrived in a carriage, just as I shot my pistol so we could get to the Bund again. We were swamped with well-wishers.”

  “I told you, Elsa. I told you you shouldn’t be going about without an armed guard. You don’t know—”

  “I told him we were having difficulty selling our cargo since the trade laws changed the week before we arrived,” Elsa smoothly interrupted his well-known tirade.

  Riley paused. “And?”

  “And he said that if we hadn’t sold our cargo by the end of the day to come to Tokyo. There, he would see to it that we get the highest amount. We’re to attend a reception in three days, apparently in my honor.”

  Riley’s face was a mask of relief. “Well, I’ll be …” His apparent exhaustion evolved into a smile. “I suppose it pays to travel with the Heroine of the Horn,” he quipped. “Peder’s ugly mug never got us anything.”

  Elsa returned his smile. “I still miss that ugly mug.”

  “As well you should, missus. But I do appreciate the fact that traveling with a female captain has suddenly made my job a good sight easier.”

  “I take it we’ll weigh anchor and leave for Tokyo in the morning?”

  “Aye. And I won’t be sorry to leave these choppy, unfriendly waters.” He rose to leave.

  “Riley?”

  “Yes?”

  “I do appreciate all your efforts on behalf of the Grace and Ramstad Yard. On my behalf. I hope you didn’t feel … abandoned.”

  “Not at all. I’m glad you and the children were able to travel while I messed wi’ those … gentlemen at the trade house. Gave me the freedom to concentrate on what I had to do. Not that it did much good.”

  “It must be frustrating for you. But at least we know we can unload and be off for the States again within the week.”

  “Aye. That is good news.” He rose to go and then paused. “I don’t mind telling you that I have an uneasy feelin’ about being here.”

  “Uneasy?” Elsa asked with a frown.

  Riley shook his head. “Can’t shake it. I’ll just be glad to set sail again and be off for the States.”

  They arrived in Tokyo two days later. Elsa left her children in Mrs. Hodge’s care and dressed in the gown she had worn to Lady Bancock’s ball. At the wharf, she and Riley went to talk with the trade-house officials, who greeted her warmly and seemed to know all about the special agreement with the Emperor. Seeing that all was in order, she placed a hand on Riley’s elbow. “Thank you for seeing to the business of this, Riley. I intend to hail a jinrikisha and go to the palace now. I will see you there later?”

  Riley held up a hand to a man speaking poor English to turn toward her. “Elsa, I think you should wait for me. You’re not expected for another few hours. This will take no more than an hour or two.”

  “Or perhaps three or four. I’m dressed for the ball and liable to draw more attention than we want,” she whispered back, remembering Yokohama and the mob. “I think it would be much better to get along to the palace.”

  “Yet it is unseemly for a woman to travel alone—”

  “Nonsense,” Elsa said, lifting her chin in the air in jest. She cocked one eyebrow and leaned closer to his ear. “They expect nothing less from the Heroine of the Horn.”

  Riley sighed. “I don’t like it. If you would simply—”

  “I will see you at the palace,” Elsa said firmly. “See to it that you are not late for supper.” With that, she turned and walked through the crowd of grinning, filthy men to the welcome fresh air outdoors.

  Just outside the trade house was a dark, covered carriage that bore the mark of the Emperor. A short, squat Japanese man in a pristine uniform bowed deeply toward her and opened the door. The Emperor has sent a coach! Never in her life had Elsa felt so honored. She bowed back toward the footman, accepted his small hand, and climbed the tiny gold steps into the luxurious carriage. Once seated, she could see that she was not alone. She smiled as her eyes adjusted from the bright midday sun to the darkness of the carriage, assuming it was another guest of the Emperor, or perhaps his emissary. He smelled of vanilla and soap, a vaguely familiar combination. Where had she noted that scent before?

  A second later, a scream lodged in her throat.

  “Good afternoon, Captain Ramstad,” came his silken voice. “It has been too long, has it not?” Mason Dutton tapped on the roof and the carriage lurched to a quick pace.

  Elsa lunged, ready to jump out of the moving carriage if necessary, but Mason was too quick for her. He grabbed her from behind and pulled her to his side, covering her mouth. She noted that the shades had been drawn, preventing anyone from seeing her plight. How had he commandeered a royal carriage? she wondered.

  “You do like to travel in style, do you not?” he whispered in her ear. “It is nice that you were unescorted. Much easier for me, all in all. Where is your husband now? Oh, that’s right, poor dear. He’s dead, correct? Pity I couldn’t kill him myself. Someday soon I’ll catch up with Karl Martensen. I’ll simply have to extract justice from him instead. And you.”

  Elsa writhed, aching to be away from the scoundrel, but she was inhibited by her tight bodice and long skirts, and he easily held her back.

  Mason let out an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, it has been too long, my dear. We have so much to catch up on. So much to settle. And it will be delightful settling accounts with you alone.” His other hand moved from her waist upward.

  Furious, Elsa elbowed him in the stomach and lurched to the other side of the carriage. Mason laughed. “That is fine. Play hard to get for now, my dear. There will be time enough for us to become … close.”

  “Never. I will never allow you to touch me. I’ll die first.”

  “Perhaps,” Mason said, raising a brow. “But it might not be up to you to decide.” The carriage hit a bump and both braced themselves. “Whoa,” Mason said with a delighted smile. “You see? Even now we’ve left the civilized streets and are making our way to my secret little harbor. We are surrounded by my men, and the carriage will not be missed for some time.” He pulled out a pocket watch and checked the time. “You are not expected for what? Another three hours?”

  Karl Martensen pulled his pocket watch from his vest and frowned. She was late, by more than an hour. He glanced at Emperor Meiji, who was now openly scowling in frustration. His guests shuffled in their places at the edge of the ostentatious receiving hall, getting tired and hungry. Never had Karl known Elsa to be tardy anywhere, especially for an event such as this, in her honor. It had been providence that brought Karl to Tokyo the day before with a load of cotton. The Tempest had made incredible time, allowing him to bypass Hawaii altogether on the way back east. The first trip had been so profitable, Kenney had proposed they ship back out in two days’ time. It was tight, but now he was here, in Tokyo, the same day Elsa Ramstad was to be honored by the Emperor. He grinned. Won’t she be surprised? he wondered for the hundredth time. But where on earth was she?

  Just then a man moved through the crowd. The people parted, ladies gasping and men stepping forward in a motion that said, “Explain yourself.” It was Riley, dressed in common street clothes. Two guards grabbed him and held him back. “I am the first mate to Captain Ramstad!” he called over their shoulders, his chest heaving for breath as if he had run all the way. “Let me through!”

  Karl came forward and shoved the guard nearest him back. “Let him pass!” he said through gritted teeth. “Riley, where is Elsa?”

  Riley looked at him in wonder at his presence and then gripped his hand fiercely. Th
e other guard let him go and the crowd took a step back as the Emperor waved them away. “He’s here, Karl. Here in the vicinity.”

  “Who?”

  “Mason Dutton.”

  Karl closed his eyes. O dear God. O Father in heaven! Help us! Protect Elsa! Give me wisdom! Knowing what he had to do as if God had directed his thoughts in response, Karl strode down the great hall and knelt at the Emperor’s feet. When he was acknowledged, Karl looked him in the eye. “Emperor Meiji, I have bad news. Your royal guest, Captain Elsa Ramstad, is missing. And I think I know why.” The translator hurriedly did his work.

  “There is a pirate that roams your waters. One with a personal vendetta against Elsa Ramstad. His name is Mason Dutton.” A hush went through the room. Even in the Far East, the people had heard of Elsa’s narrow escape from the clutches of Mason Dutton. The Emperor rose. He spoke softly, assuredly.

  “Your Western navies apparently have not the capabilities of ours,” the translator said, his face betraying no emotion. “It is time that this man be stopped. He has dared to enter my waters and take my royal guest hostage. He will pay for it with his life.”

  The Emperor nodded at two men in full military regalia and they moved forward at once.

  “Do you know where this man hides?”

  Karl looked to Riley, and Riley shook his head, grim faced. “They cannot be far,” Riley said. “They took her in a royal carriage. I spotted a man I recognized as one of Mason’s crew, clinging to the back as they left. I ran after them, tracked them for a time, but they got away.”

  Emperor Meiji’s face darkened. “They dare to abscond with one of my carriages?”

  Karl faced him. “I know this man. Captain Ramstad is in imminent danger. He is a man of no moral account.”

  “You will accompany my naval commanders,” the Emperor stated. “You will know how he works and will be best at coming up with a plan for capture.”

  “Yes,” Karl said.

  Riley stepped forward. “I would like to go along also, your Grace.” The Emperor nodded. “Go,” said the translator. “Find this leech and bring him back to me. I shall have the skin flayed from his back.” “If he lives that long,” Karl said under his breath.

  The pirates aboard Mason’s ship hooted and hollered as Elsa was unceremoniously hauled aboard in a basket and dropped. Her wrists were tied and she lurched one way and the other, trying to escape the daring hands of all those on deck. “Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Mason chided. They parted, clearing the way from him to her. “This is not some parlor maid I brought back for your enjoyment. Can you not see from her dress that this is a lady?”

  A man nearby tilted Elsa’s skirt with the tip of his cane. She slapped it away as the men laughed. “The lady’s legs look as good as any parlor maid’s, Cap’n,” he said. He drew near and Elsa spat in his face. The men roared with laughter.

  “Enough, enough!” Mason intervened, stepping between the two. “She has gumption. But surely someone aboard recognizes the lady.” He looked around as if interviewing a harmless group of schoolchildren for the answer to an elementary question.

  “Why, that’s Elsa Ramstad!” shouted one.

  “I’ll be! The famous Cap’n Ramstad!” exclaimed another.

  “Heroine of the Horn, right here on our ship!” said still another.

  Elsa’s heart sank. Never had she felt so helpless. Last time she had encountered Mason Dutton, it was at Peder’s side. The time before that, Peder’s sailors had fought valiantly for her, Peder, and their ship. Here she was alone. Entirely alone. Only one thought consoled her. At least her children were not in danger. Wildly, her eyes searched the crowd, looking for one decent man who might dare to stand by her side and fight. But all she saw were villainous, ravenous looks. She lifted her chin, nostrils flaring, daring them to touch her.

  “Elsa?” Mason beckoned from the doorway to his quarters. “Shall we retire to a place more … private?” His inference was clear. She glanced from him to the others. Regardless of the danger he posed, she was outnumbered among his crew. Perhaps if she cooperated, she could buy some time and figure out a means of escape. In a hidden pocket of her gown was a tiny pistol with one round of ammunition. In another was a small knife in a slender sheath. She had not gone out entirely unprepared; she simply could not get to her weapons. Elsa had to choose her timing carefully. Even armed with those basic weapons, she would not be able to hold an entire crew at bay.

  She raised her chin and strode to his cabin with all the grace she could muster among the catcalls and whistles of the crew. Once inside the captain’s quarters, she looked about the overly decorated room. Above seats with many pillows were walls covered by rich fabrics from distant lands. In the corner was a solid gold statue of a Greek goddess. In another, a giant china vase. “Spoils of your robberies?”

  “I prefer to call them excursions,” Mason said benignly. He poured red liquid into a crystal goblet. “Wine?” he asked, roughly shoving her down to perch on the edge of the bed.

  “I think not,” she said. “Do you mind unbinding me?”

  “Will you promise not to run away?”

  “To where? Into the arms of your waiting crew? They’re a bunch of savages, Dutton. Not that you’re any better.”

  He eyed her over the edge of his goblet. “You and your husband have caused me much grief, Elsa.” He spoke with the tone of a pained parent.

  “Nothing you didn’t bring on yourself, Dutton. It is only a matter of time before some navy corners you and blows you to smithereens.”

  “You had better hope it is not soon,” he said, grinning. “Then your children would be left without a mother and a father. Orphans.”

  She stared back into his eyes. “I knew you were evil, Mason. I did not know you were cruel.”

  He strode over to her and caressed her cheek. She forced herself not to pull away. “I don’t have to be cruel. I can be very, very kind to you, Elsa. I admire you, the Heroine of the Horn. Think of what would happen if we joined forces. Think of the new twist in your column for the Times! The public would go mad for you.”

  Elsa snorted and shook her head. “You are the one who is mad.”

  He pushed her back on the bed and closed tight fingers around her neck. She had not seen it coming. “Your life is in my hands, darling,” he said softly. She writhed, trying to pry his fingers from her larynx before she suffocated. He bent closer to her ear and whispered, “I’d be more careful in choosing your words.”

  Mason eased away from Elsa then, observing her. She gasped for breath as she sat up again, unable to hide her fear. He stood beside her and moved his hands to her hair. His touch made her want to scream, but she knew she had to bide her time, gain some semblance of Dutton’s trust. Slowly, he took the combs from her hair and pulled the knot loose. With agonizing tenderness he pulled out one thick section of hair and laid it over her shoulder. Then he took the other half and fanned it over her back.

  “Lovely,” he whispered. “Welcome to the lion’s den, Elsa. You chose the wrong cat to cross.”

  The Tempest moved under sail only, not wanting to make any sound that might alert the pirate that trouble was afoot. Karl winced as he checked the time. Eight hours Elsa had been gone! It had taken four for Riley to make it past the palace guards and seek help. It had taken the remaining four to garner the Emperor’s forces and pay enough sources to discover where Mason’s ship was harbored. He was but fifteen miles up the coast! The plan was for Karl and his men to attack, and if the pirates fled, eight navy ships would keep him at bay. One way or another, Mason had backed himself into an inescapable corner.

  At the edge of the tiny cove, Karl motioned for all sails to be furled and their momentum halted. Silently, as had been discussed with his crew earlier, three skiffs were launched, each holding eight men. Working as quietly as natives on the warpath, they entered the cove and sought a place to land their skiffs. From there, they sank into the water, swimming toward Dutton’s ship as the pirates themselves
had attacked Peder’s ship in the West Indies. Karl had wrapped two pistols in oilskin and strapped them to his chest. In his teeth he clenched a bowie knife.

  They swam the last fifty feet underwater, keeping the guards on duty from mounting any intruder alert. Karl was proud of his men. None of them had been spotted! In minutes they were next to Dutton’s ship, clinging to the ratlines that dragged in the water. Their only chance was to take some of the pirates out quietly before the rest were alerted. Slowly, eight of his best men climbed the lines to begin the process as half of their group trod water around the ship to the port side.

  God was smiling upon them. The pirates had obviously grown lackadaisical and overly cocky with their success.

  Elsa rose and looked pointedly at the chess board. “You like games, do you not?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.

  Mason came over to her side of the table and lifted one lock of hair. He inhaled deeply, and Elsa struggled not to turn and slap him away. “I do,” he said softly. He traced one finger across the bare skin of her neck. “I think it is time you leave your mourning black and wear colors that befit your beauty again.”

  Elsa ignored his comment. “I see you have taken to chess.”

  “It is not a new pursuit,” he said, his eyes still roaming her uncomfortably. “All my life, I have studied the art of it. It has served me well in my current vocation.”

  “Ahh,” Elsa said, pretending to appreciate his supposed mastery of the game. “Why don’t we play?” She walked a few steps away as if to idly peruse his shelf of leather-bound books.

  “A game?”

  “Yes. If you win I shall join you at your side, as you suggested. I’ll wear colorful dresses again, when I am not in a blouse and dungarees.” She turned back to him. “But if I win, I shall go free.”

  Mason pursed his lips, studying her. “Those are high stakes. I’ve spent years waiting to cross paths with you again.”

  “They are high stakes for me as well.”

  “So they are,” Mason said with a nod. “Very well. I am attracted to the idea of a willing woman at my side rather than a captive bride.” Her heart pounded at his words. He actually expected her to marry him?