Poseidon’s Legion

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “The lady was wearing that cloak,” he said, pointing to the heap that was Curtiz and the debris. “I saw her.”

  Curious, Lucifer turned back to see what the old man was indicating. What was left of Curtiz was wrapped up in fabric, but it didn’t occur to him that it was a woman’s cloak. He retraced his steps back to the body, crouching down once more to gingerly pick at the cloth that was partially wrapped around it.

  Parts of it were drying in the sea air, and he fingered the fabric, holding a section of it up to get a better look. Soft brown wool with rabbit fur lining. It was a fine piece of material, something warm and elegant.

  And then, it hit him.

  He’d seen Genevieve wear the cloak. She’d worn it yesterday when they’d walked around the bailey.

  Suddenly, Lucifer was racing back to Perran Castle, faster than he had ever run in his life.

  The dogs were barking furiously, startled, when Lucifer came charging into the chamber.

  Vivienne, who had been sitting on the lady’s couch, tying pretty silk ribbons around her puppies, was so surprised that she very nearly fell off the couch. Lucifer rushed into the room and, suddenly, she was in his grasp. The expression on his face was nothing short of terror.

  “Where is your sister?” he demanded.

  Vivienne was terrified. The dogs were barking, a man was shaking her, and she was utterly terrified.

  “What do you mean?” she cried.

  “Tell me where she is!”

  “She… she went to see you!” she burst into tears.

  Lucifer knew he’d scared her, but he frankly didn’t care. He had more fear in his heart than he’d ever known in his life and he needed answers to sate it. But perhaps nothing would sate it, not if what he suspected was true.

  God, please don’t let it be true!

  “Vivienne, please,” he said, trying not to shake her to death. “Where is Genevieve?”

  Vivienne was weeping steadily. “I told you,” she said. “She went to see you!”

  Lucifer had to rephrase the question. “She did not go by herself, did she?” he asked. “She simply didn’t walk out of here.”

  “Nay!”

  “Did someone come for her?”

  Vivienne nodded, trying to pull away from him. “That man,” she said. “Your man. He came and told Genni that you wanted to see her.”

  Now, the pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall together. Lucifer looked at Vivienne with mounting horror, struggling to remain calm when every fiber in his body was begging for panic.

  “Was it Curtiz?” he asked hoarsely, terrified of the answer.

  Vivienne shook her head. “I do not know who he is.”

  Lucifer spoke through clenched teeth. “He is a commander,” he said with more patience than he felt. “He is blond. A big, blond man. Is that who came for her?”

  Vivienne nodded. “He was our jailor when we first came here,” she said. “He… he frightens me, but he came for Genni and told her that you had summoned her.”

  He told her that you had summoned her. So Curtiz had come for Genevieve and used Lucifer in his quest to remove the woman from the chamber. But why? Absolutely none of it made any sense. Why would Curtiz remove Genevieve and take her out to sea?

  Perhaps Lucifer would never know. What he did know was that Curtiz was dead and Genevieve was missing. As the news began to settle, something deep inside him felt very, very weak. He could hardly breathe.

  Releasing Vivienne, Lucifer stumbled back and tried to walk away but he got as far as the bed. Suddenly, he was collapsing on it, sitting heavily and holding on to the bedpost with a death-grip to brace himself. He simply couldn’t believe what he was hearing. As he sat there and tried to reconcile what his mind refused to believe, Remy and Felix came rushing into the chamber.

  “Lucifer!” Remy said. “What has happened?”

  Lucifer couldn’t even bring himself to say anything. He was in shock; literally, in shock. For a moment, he just sat there and held on to the bedpost, struggling to come to grips with what Vivienne had told him. It was beyond belief.

  But it was true.

  “Curtiz,” he finally muttered in a tone that sounded nothing like the usually confident man. “He is laying on the beach in a cloak I recognized. You heard the old man say that he brought a woman down to the beach earlier today. That woman was Genevieve. It is her cloak he is wrapped in.”

  Remy’s eyes widened as he quickly scanned the room for the woman in question, but all he saw was a sniffling Vivienne and four noisy pups.

  “What?” he finally gasped. “What are you saying?”

  Lucifer shook his head. But that effort was far too much, and he ended up closing his eyes and hanging his head. The grief, the anguish, was overwhelming.

  “He took Genevieve out to sea,” he mumbled. “I do not know why. Mayhap we will never know why. But there was some manner of battle out there that Curtiz was involved in, and it cost him his life. I would expect to find Genevieve’s body washed up on shore as well. You had better send men out to scour the beaches to the north and to the south. Find her, Remy. Please.”

  Remy was horrified. His conversation with Lucifer earlier that morning came tumbling back on him, when Lucifer had mentioned his desire to marry Genevieve. The woman had changed something in him, causing Lucifer to become more human that Remy had ever known him to be. It had been a positive change, no doubt.

  And now, that woman was gone.

  Remy put his hand over his mouth in shock, looking to Felix, who was only coming to understand pieces of what was going on. He’d been on the battlements when Lucifer had made his desperate run from the beach to the castle and he’d followed, thinking something was terribly wrong.

  He’d been right – something was horribly wrong.

  “Remy…?” Felix hissed.

  But Remy shook his head. “Go,” he said hoarsely. “Gather groups of men to search the beaches to the north and to the south.”

  “What are we looking for?”

  “When you find it, you will know.”

  That wasn’t much to go on, but Felix didn’t question him further. Confused, he left the chamber to form search parties, searching for something that would be clear to them when they found it. Once Felix was gone, Remy went to Lucifer.

  God, he felt so bad for the man. That cold, mysterious man had known something over the past few days that had warmed his hardened soul, and now this. In this profession, where men were often cold-hearted barbarians, the bond between the commanders of Poseidon’s Legion went beyond that. There was friendship there, and affection, as much as there possibly could be among thieves and cutthroats. Remy simply felt terrible for a man he considered his friend.

  “What can I do?” he asked quietly. “What more do you want me to do?”

  Lucifer shook his head. He genuinely couldn’t answer that question. All he knew was that every hope, every dream he’d had as a result of Genevieve’s introduction into his life was gone. When he didn’t give Remy a reply, the man simply left the chamber to help in the search for the missing woman. There was truly nothing else he could do.

  But Lucifer couldn’t move. He couldn’t really think. It was strange, really. Up until three days ago, he’d been a man content with what he was, with what he’d become – a fearsome pirate in one of the greatest pirate factions of this age. But in the short time he’d known Genevieve, he’d realized so much about himself that he’d never even known. A foolish young knight who had grown up into a responsible man, who was realizing what he’d run away from those years ago.

  He’d learned so much about himself and it was all because of a bold, unruly woman who’d once tried to kill him. She had been the catalyst for Lucifer to remember who he was, and what he was to become. She’d made him feel things he’d never felt before, an understanding and an awareness of his being that he’d never understood. Now, he did. And he couldn’t even thank her for it.

  Dead. He felt dead inside.
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br />   Standing up from the bed, he made his way unsteadily to the door, but a soft voice stopped him.

  “Where is my sister?” Vivienne asked, her voice sounding weak. “I do not understand what has happened. Where did that man take her, if not to you?”

  Lucifer turned to look at her. Small, frail, she was the sister that Genevieve had tried so hard to protect. But Genevieve wasn’t here to protect her any longer and that realization, more than anything else, brought a lump to his throat. Now, he felt protective over young Vivienne, too.

  It was what Genevieve would have wanted.

  When Vivienne was told the full extent of what had happened to her sister, it was her howls of grief that finally brought Lucifer to his knees.

  He wept with her.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Leucosia

  More rocking, more swaying. Wherever she was, it wasn’t on solid ground. She was on a boat again, being lulled by the movement of the waves. But her head was killing her and her stomach was lurching, and Genevieve had a series of dry heaves before she could open her eyes.

  Then, what she saw was not what she expected. It was a beautiful, opulent chamber and as she tried to move her head slightly so she could see more of it, she could see just how gorgeous the chamber actually was. Only, it was a cabin aboard a ship, richly appointed. The walls sloped, and the ceiling was low. Just as she stirred to gain a better look at where she was, a man appeared in her line of sight.

  He was short, but well-built and handsome. He was looking at her with a good deal of curiosity. But in that moment, the battle and memories of the Spanish ship came tumbling down on Genevieve, and she quickly assumed that the Spanish must have picked her up in their battered vessel. She was terrified, realizing she had fallen right into the belly of the enemy. As she struggled to sit up and put distance between herself and the man, he abruptly put his hands out as if to soothe her.

  “Easy, lass,” he said. “No one will hurt ye, I promise.”

  He has a Scottish accent! Genevieve stopped in mid-struggle, her eyes widening at the realization. But she was still terrified, and she still labored to move away from the man.

  “Who are you?” she demanded. “You are not Spanish.”

  “Nay, lass.”

  “Then where am I?”

  The man didn’t move near her; he kept his distance. “My name is Kelly O’Murphy,” he said evenly, “and ye’re aboard the Leucosia. We found ye floating out tae sea. How did ye get there?”

  That didn’t clear up any of Genevieve’s fright. She still had no idea who the man was, and the name of the ship meant nothing to her. But her mind began to clear a bit, and the events of the day came back to her in pieces.

  She remembered the battle between two ships – the Spanish vessel and the mysterious behemoth off to the south. Violence and terror filled her mind. Gripping the side of the bed as she labored to keep calm, she eyed O’Murphy.

  “There was a battle,” she said. “A Spanish ship and another ship.”

  O’Murphy nodded. “I know,” he said. “Those damnable Spanish were where they shouldna be. Were… were ye on their ship, lass?”

  Oddly, Genevieve didn’t feel as frightened as she had initially. The man didn’t seem as if he were ready to ravage her and his manner was strangely gentle.

  “Nay,” she said, a hand moving to her aching head. “I was not on their ship, but a man… he was taking me there. He sold me to them.”

  O’Murphy’s eyebrows drew together. “Sold ye?” he repeated. “Are ye a slave?”

  Genevieve shook her head, but it wasn’t exactly the truth. She was a captive and she thought perhaps to tell the man. Perhaps, he could help her.

  “I am not a slave,” she said, her eyes welling. “My father’s merchant ship was captured last month by the pirates known as Poseidon’s Legion. I… I belong to them. To a man named Lucifer. Will you please return me to him? I am sure he will pay you well.”

  That seemed to draw a reaction from O’Murphy. “Ye’re Lucifer’s captive?” he asked, surprised. “Was it Lucifer selling ye tae the Spanish?”

  Genevieve tried to shake her head, but it only brought pain. “Nay,” she said. “Another pirate named Curtiz. He lured me to a skiff and took me out to sea, and somehow, we were caught in a battle. Was it your ship that fired on the Spanish? There was another ship, but I could not see it because of the fog.”

  O’Murphy nodded. “It was me,” he said. “Do ye know who the Devils of the Deep are, lass?”

  Genevieve shook her head hesitantly. “Nay.”

  “We’re pirates, like Poseidon’s Legion.”

  Her eyes widened. “More pirates?”

  O’Murphy grinned. “’Tis not as bad as all that,” he said. “We are allies with the Sassenach pirates. Ye say ye belong tae Lucifer?”

  Genevieve nodded so eagerly that a hand flew to her head because she’d caused herself much pain. “Aye,” she said. “Will you take me to him?”

  O’Murphy scratched his head, a reluctant gesture. “I would,” he said, “but for the fact that they willna be happy tae see me. They dunna know I’m in their waters.”

  Genevieve went from hope to confusion. “I do not understand.”

  O’Murphy grinned as he turned away from her, heading to the rear of the cabin where several small windows were built into the hull of the ship. Bolted against the elements, he opened one of them, letting the cool sea breeze enter the stuffy chamber.

  “I dunna expect ye would,” he said. “Suffice it tae say they dunna want tae see this ship. I am supposed tae give it back tae them and they dunna want it back.”

  Genevieve was even more confused than before. “Then… then why are you here?” she asked. “I still do not understand.”

  “Ye dunna need tae. All ye need know is that the Sassenach willna be glad tae see me.”

  Genevieve thought that sounded much as if he didn’t plan on returning her to Perran Castle and she was gripped by panic. “Please, sir – will you at least put me in a skiff and let me row to shore?” she begged. “I can find my way back from there. I will not tell them that I saw you; this I vow.”

  He turned to look at her, seeing the desperation on her face. She belonged to Lucifer, did she? It was quite clear she wanted to return to him, but Kelly really didn’t want Lucifer or Constantine to know he’d been laying in their waters, waiting for the opportunity to dump the Leucosia back on them.

  It was true that he’d sailed north from the Isles of Scilly to warn Poseidon’s Legion about the Spanish lurking off their coast, and it was true that when he saw the Spanish vessel, he’d fired on them to chase them away. And the raw truth was that the Legion probably already knew he was there given the fact that he’d given the Spanish vessel a full broadside of cannon fire. Eleven shots, eleven cannons on one side of a twenty-two gun warship.

  Aye… who was he kidding? They already knew he was here. Heavily, he sighed.

  “I believe ye,” he said. “But that willna be necessary, lass. I’ll take ye right tae Perran Castle. There’s nothing else I can do with ye, truly.”

  It was an unexpected answer and Genevieve’s eyes filled with happy, relieved tears. “Thank you,” she whispered, wiping the tears as they fell from her eyes. “You will take me right to his door?”

  “Right tae his door.”

  “Bless you, sir. You have my undying gratitude.”

  O’Murphy nodded silently, acknowledging her thanks. She was a very pretty woman, in truth. A little bedraggled from her harrowing adventure at sea, but pretty nonetheless. If Lucifer was as anxious to see her as she was to see him, then perhaps the Legion wouldn’t mind the fact that the Leucosia was back in their waters.

  It was a chance he was willing to take.

  Chapter Twelve

  Perran Castle

  He was only taking what he’d brought with him, ten years ago.

  Lucifer stood in his chamber, tying off a satchel that had seen better days. It was leather,
but terribly worn and old. Lucifer had the thing since he’d been a boy, a satchel his father had given him when he’d gone away to foster at Northwood Castle in Northumbria. God, it seemed so long ago, those days of fostering and training at Northwood Castle, with men named de Norville and Hage. They were legacy knights whose families had served the Earl of Teviot for over two centuries, great men from great families. Lucifer’s father had wanted him to foster with the best, and he had. He’d learned a great deal. That old satchel reminded him of days long past, and he remembered them with fondness.

  He finished packing his possessions and then he simply stood there, staring at the satchel and unable to look at his chamber at all. It was the last place he’d seen Genevieve and, even now, her ghost was everywhere. She was sitting in the chair near the wall or she was lying on his bed as he had his way with her. He found himself staring at his bed, his jaw ticking faintly as he relived memories that brought him both comfort and pain.

  But it was over now, all of it.

  A soft knock on the door roused him from his thoughts and he left his bed, going to the panel. The chamber was growing dark, as the sun set behind the western horizon and signaled the approach of another night. Unbolting the door, he opened it.

  Remy was standing in the dark corridor outside. Lucifer didn’t even let the man speak. By his very presence, he was suggesting something Lucifer had been praying wouldn’t come to be. Feeling sick at the mere sight of the man, Lucifer spoke first.

  “You found her.”

  It was not a question. But Remy shook his head. “Nay, we’ve not found her,” he said. “The men are still looking, but we’ve not found any trace of her.”

  That was both good and bad news. Lucifer couldn’t decide if he was relieved or even more despondent. He simply turned away and headed back to his bed, where his satchel, sword, and traveling cloak lay. Remy followed him into the chamber, noting the items on his bed.

  “Mayhap she will turn up on the morning tide, or mayhap she will not,” Remy said, eyeing in particular the big satchel. “It is possible that she will not turn up at all. Lucifer… what is all this? Are you going somewhere?”