If he ever had the proof, he would kill Romanov without a second thought.
Esteban looked at the chart on his desk and then out the window. “I want to leave with the tide."
"There is another problem, Captain."
"What now?"
"Two men arrived earlier. They also want her,” Manuel said.
"Oh? It seems our Katherine is quite popular ... eh?” He shook his head. “What men are these?"
"They are abovedeck, sir."
Esteban sighed and got up, climbing to the upper decks.
A tall, dark Minalosian man in a black suit stood beside a taller man Esteban recognized. He nodded at them.
"How can I help you, gentlemen?"
"Where is Kate?” Morgan demanded.
Esteban regarded him mildly, but said nothing. He could see this man's tension and realized he was afraid for Katherine, but not for himself.
Morgan's companion held up a quelling hand. “We seek to know if she is unharmed, and whether she wishes to leave."
"I'm sorry, I do not believe we have met,” Esteban said politely, despite the fact that he wanted to throw both of them overboard.
"My name is Lord Kesim Trasain; I am a friend of Morgan's."
Esteban nodded and introduced himself. “I am Captain Esteban Magalia."
"Bring us to Kate,” Morgan interjected.
"Do not fear, my wife is unharmed,” Esteban replied.
"Your wife?"
Esteban raised his hand and showed the men his wedding band. “She did not tell you we were married?"
Morgan looked at him. “Frankly, Captain, she didn't mention that at all. She only asked me to help her return to her world. My own wife told me you might have her."
Esteban's anger returned, a dull smolder that made his head pound. So their vows had meant so little to her that she had not bothered to tell them she was married? His head ached and his heart once more felt empty and crushed.
"We ... ahem...” He cleared his throat, shocked by the emotion that had sprung up. “We were wed by Admiral Masters of Lyros three months ago.” He looked at the two men. “We had a disagreement a few weeks ago, and she left me. I am hopeful we can put it behind us now. If you like, I can show you the papers, signed by both of us, and the seaman who witnessed the ceremony. His name was Sanders."
His face had softened and both Kesim and Morgan could see how very much he loved Kate, and the pain he felt, even if he was not ready to admit it to himself. Kesim looked at Morgan and nodded slightly.
They decided to leave things as they were. Esteban, despite his demeanor and his wounded heart, was no threat to Katherine.
"No, that will not be necessary,” Kesim said kindly. He'd looked into Esteban's mind and felt his pain; he also knew Esteban was not lying. Collin Masters was Adama's nephew, and knew he would not befriend this man if he was not trustworthy. “You are well within your rights to have reclaimed your wife.” He could also see Esteban's sailors watching them closely. “Please accept our apologies for detaining you."
He bowed shortly and turned motioning to Morgan who stopped and looked at Esteban once again. “Should either of you need any help, you know how to find us."
"I do not think that will be necessary,” came Esteban's clipped reply.
Morgan looked at him for a moment but said nothing. He turned and followed Kesim to their horses.
As they mounted, Morgan looked back at the ship. “We should have pressed him harder. He gave her away to save himself.” A note of contempt touched his words.
"No, he didn't."
"Then why didn't you tell him that?” Morgan demanded, more than a little shocked.
"Because his pride wouldn't have allowed him to believe me. He must hear it from Kate. Esteban loves her; he's not a threat."
"I hope you're right, Kesim,” Morgan turned his horse and moved off toward the road.
Esteban watched the two men leave, then shook his head. “Cast off!” he shouted. “I want to take this tide."
The crew scrambled to do as he'd ordered.
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Chapter 11
A week later, they were docked again in Al Manus. A storm two days earlier had caused some minor damage and Esteban wanted it repaired before they set sail for Dolcit. Most of the crew was ashore, except Manuel and Esteban and a few others who were needed to make those repairs.
Kate's week had been sheer hell.
No longer allowed to sleep in Esteban's rooms, she was relegated to the women's quarters under the care of Quima, who no longer bothered to treat her with the respect she once had.
The whores taunted and tormented her. “Who warms Esteban's bed now?"
Rachel was the worst. She was with him often enough to make Kate furiously jealous although she didn't understand why when she hated him so.
There was nothing she could do. In the hierarchy of the women she ranked very low. Now she was simply one of the slaves.
Unbeknownst to her, Esteban had left strict orders, however, that she was not to be touched by anyone; she was not a whore.
Today, she'd been sent to clean the galley and was constantly evading the groping hands of the cook. She turned to pick something from one of the shelves and found herself pinned against the table from behind by his heaving body.
She let out a breathless scream, and he laughed shortly. “Let's see what goodies you've got in there,” he said, pawing at the bodice of her dress. He managed to give her breast a good hard pinch, leaving a bruise.
"Get the hell off of me, you fat pig,” she snarled through gritted teeth. She elbowed him in the belly and he let out a woof of fetid breath, and then backed up. Kate whirled. “If you touch me again, I'll cut your hands off!” she said menacingly.
"I see why the captain discarded you. You're a frigid bitch,” he spat. “Get out of my kitchen!"
Kate bent and picked up her wooden cleaning bucket. She looked at it for a moment and then flung the contents of it at him, splashing him from head to toe with filthy, cold water.
"That ought to cool you off.” She picked up her rags and turned, ignoring his furious bellowing. “Who's frigid now, Jack?” she muttered.
She went to the top deck and got another bucket of water and then moved back down the stairs where she began washing the floors belowdecks. She moved slowly backward down the long hallway on her hands and knees.
Esteban came down the stairs and saw her. One of the kitchen boys had run to him and told him about what had happened and he wanted to be sure she was unharmed. He stood and admired her backside for a long moment; the soft arch of her bare feet the gleam of the silver cuff upon her ankle, and the straining muscles of her back and arms. He inhaled deeply and dragged his attention from her, moving toward the galley. On the way by he simply could not resist giving her raised backside a slap and he laughed to himself at her outraged yelp.
"Bastard,” she growled as he passed, making him grin further.
Esteban entered the galley and looked about, seeing the furious cook trying to dry himself off. Esteban's demeanor darkened as he watched, all good humor gone.
He picked up a large butcher knife from the cutting block and approached the cook, who still had no idea of his presence.
The cook was being attended by one of his assistants and looked up when movement caught his eye. “Captain, good day,” he said nervously.
Esteban stopped in front of him “You have one hour to gather your things and get the hell off my ship."
"You can't leave me here!"
"One hour."
"Captain ... I was just having a little fun ... She's only a woman,” the cook protested. Esteban grabbed the man's right hand forcing his arm back onto the counter and with barely a glance, brought the knife down; cutting into his wrist, drawing a thin line of blood.
The cook shrieked in horror.
"Silence!” Esteban snarled. He lifted the knife, sliding it up toward the cook's throat.
The m
an closed his mouth with a snap.
"I can do whatever I wish. The woman is mine. She is never to be touched by anyone except me.” His voice was deadly low, and earnest.
The cook was now nodding vigorously, desperate to save himself.
"One hour.” Esteban stepped back and drove the knife into the counter beside the cook's arm.
* * * *
Esteban swung down from the rigging over the deck, shirtless and smiling.
Around him his men sent up a happy cheer. He had climbed to the top of the mast and rigged the pennant of the Lyrosian fleet himself. He had received it from Collin Masters’ messenger the day before when they had met in Dolcit. They were now officially members of the Lyrosian merchant class, though technically still privateers, under the protection of the Lyrosian Navy.
The sun shone down upon them, hot and sultry. They were scheduled to dock in Arom in four days to take on supplies and a load of silks from Tartak. They hadn't encountered another ship for days and Esteban should have been thrilled.
The detriment to his happiness was Kate. His heart ached when he looked at her and he hadn't spoken to her since the day he had brought her back.
Katherine was currently seated in the only spot of shade upon the entire damned ship. She was on the deck with her knees bent under herself, her shoulders and back aching from the constant work and her hands were cracked to bleeding from the harsh soap used to clean everything from decks to sails to laundry. Her eyes were dark and sad and he knew she wanted to talk with him, but he'd refused.
She was a slave, nothing more.
He moved past her to the stairs and the cool darkness of his rooms below.
She finished washing the floor where she had sat and tossed the bucket of water over the side, then went downstairs herself.
"Katherine."
She turned.
"Come and pick up this room, it is a mess,” he said and then turned away.
He was in his wardroom. She looked at his bare chest and back as he retreated to his bedroom. He closed the door and she thought how good he looked with the slight golden tan.
"Oh, so what,” she said under her breath, annoyed with herself for still having any feelings for him.
She picked up papers and set them on his desk, collected wineglasses from all around the wardroom and moved to the galley with them, then returned and knocked upon his bedroom door, maybe she would get her chance to reason with him now. She heard rustling and a low giggle as she waited, finally he said, “Enter."
Esteban lay upon his unmade bed, shirtless with his bare feet crossed; straddling his lap was Rachel, the busty redhead. She leaned in to kiss him slowly and deeply. Kate could hear her almost purring, and an incredible wave of impotent rage washed over her.
"Ohhh! You liked that kiss, didn't you, naughty boy?” Rachel giggled, wiggling obscenely over his midsection, then thrusting her enormous breasts into his face.
Esteban grinned.
Kate stopped dead in her tracks staring at them, and finally squelching her rage, she cleared her throat, announcing her presence.
"You may clean my bedchamber now, we will be busy soon, so move quickly,” he said dismissively.
She looked up and saw he hadn't even taken his eyes off of the redhead. In fact he was sliding the silk bolero from her shoulders, and began to massage Rachel's huge tits through her chemise.
"Esteban, I want some wine.” Rachel pouted.
Kate made a face behind their backs and heard Esteban say, “Of course, one moment and I will get some."
"Have her do it,” Rachel said nastily.
"No, I like to watch her clean my rooms.” Esteban grinned, sharklike.
He stood and moved past where Kate was cleaning the commode. She stood, watching him go, tempted to brain him with the brush she held, and then heard Rachel laugh a low, nasty snicker. She dropped her brush in the bucket and closed her eyes. She didn't even have the energy to defend herself from Rachel's hateful remarks.
"You look so shocked to find me here,” Rachel whispered. “As soon as you're gone, I'm going to show him what he's been missing. Now that you're back in your proper place, Esteban can be mine."
Kate ignored her and continued picking items up, carefully folding a shirt, then arranging a pair of boots. It didn't matter what the whore thought. She was right. Kate was a slave. Still, she was baffled as to why this kept hurting her. It was clear Esteban no longer loved her, and she was upset with herself for still loving him despite it all. She wiped her teary eyes with the back of her wrist and kept working.
"I must say though, I do like your choice of jewelry.” Rachel sniped, commenting about the cuff on Kate's ankle.
Esteban heard Rachel's hushed comments and turned to look at them.
He'd fully expected Kate to pull the whore from the bed and beat her, but she only moved about cleaning and ignoring her. Sad tears sprang to his throat and eyes. This was not his Kate, not the woman he'd fallen madly in love with. This woman was defeated, her spirit broken. Katherine had always been full of energy and fire, but that was gone, and he knew part of the reason was him.
He choked back his emotions and steeled himself. It was time to find out what exactly had happened between them, and why she'd left, but first he needed to get rid of Rachel.
He stepped into the bedroom and raised a hand to his forehead, massaging his temples. “I have a headache, you need to leave."
"What?"
"Go, Rachel. I'll speak to you later. Right now I wish to rest."
"Oh...” Rachel moved to Esteban's side, cooing softly. “Is there anything I can do for you?"
"No, I just need to sleep."
"I'll check on you later.” Rachel kissed Esteban's cheek, then turned to Kate. “Don't linger and disturb him. Finish your work and leave."
Kate ignored her.
Esteban watched Rachel go and turned back to see Kate standing at the foot of his bed. Her hair had come out from under the ridiculous kerchief she wore.
"Headache, huh?” she said in a low voice.
Esteban sipped his wine and shrugged.
"You bastard!” She flung herself at him and he caught her around the middle, dropping his wineglass with a crash. “Why do you keep tormenting me?"
She was a snarling, flailing, fury in his arms and he could barely keep her from gouging his eyes from his head. If she had not been so deadly earnest, he might have found it funny. Instead he was shocked and frightened by her furious intensity.
All of the anger and sorrow she had been keeping inside for the past weeks now burst forth.
Once he had caught both of her arms in his hands and held her immobile she struggled mightily, kicking him in the shins with her bare feet.
"Stop it ... Katherine! Stop!"
"Why the hell didn't you just leave me?” she yelled. She wracked her brains for the little Spanish she knew. It wasn't his language, not exactly, but she knew he'd get the gist. “Pendejo!” she spat.
His eyes widened at what she'd called him and he swallowed a lump of rage. “I have my reasons,” he sneered. Damn the woman for having this effect upon him!
"Oh yeah, I forgot, I belong to you, right? Well guess what, pal ... I don't belong to anyone!” She punctuated her words with a solid kick to his shin. “I'm not your damned slave, not yours or Davich's or anyone's!” She continued her struggles.
He was positively vibrating with anger and had to stifle the urge to strike her as firmly within himself as possible. “So Romanov was not to your liking either?” he demanded nastily.
He was standing very close and she wrenched her hand free and hit him open-handed across the cheek. He turned his head with the blow and closed his eyes, swallowing sickly.
"Bastard!” she yelled, angry that she could not get a response from him. “Dammit, why didn't you just leave me alone?” she sobbed. “I hate you!” She pounded upon his chest with her fists, releasing her grief and rage at him and at everything that had happened to her.
<
br /> Esteban released her and she dropped to the floor sobbing, until finally she cried herself into an exhausted sleep.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 12
After she'd struck him, he'd left her and gone to his wardroom. He sat until the sun had set, considering what had happened between them, what she'd said.
He was miserable and longed to be angry with her, to hate her for spurning him, but he couldn't. The only emotion he kept feeling was confusion—her anger was so great he truly did not know what he'd done to make her hate him ... nothing made sense.
He'd lied to Rachel about his headache, but as he sat and thought, he could feel the dull thudding pain that accompanied the arrival of one overtaking him. Finally, with a sigh, he stood and returned to his bedroom. In the shadows of the dark room, she was nothing more than a small heap upon the floor, and his heart tightened seeing her so.
After he lit one of the hanging oil lamps, he moved back to where she lay upon the floor. He lifted her carefully and placed her on his bed, removing the kerchief from her head and the simple dress she wore, and at last fanning her beautiful hair upon the pillows. He longed to pull her close to him and simply hold her, to soothe whatever it was that had hurt her. Reluctantly he stopped touching her hair and climbed onto the bed, curling his body around her, recalling the closeness they'd shared. Exhausted, Esteban closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.
Kate came slowly awake sometime later. She inhaled and smelled his cologne, a nutty fragrance, like almonds and sandalwood. She could feel the weight of his hand on her thigh, strong and comforting, as he slowly moved upward, stroking her gently. Still mostly asleep, she moaned softly and turned toward him.
He drew his hand up her side and stroked her as she rolled to her back and looked up at him. It was dark and the room was warmly lit by the fragrant oil lamp. The wick was lowered and it swung gently casting shadows upon the walls. Kate could hear thunder rolling in the distance, miles away.
Calthraca: Secrets And The Sea [A Calthraca Novel] Page 14
