Four Winds (River of Time California, Book 2)

by Lisa T. Bergren

  When I was mostly clear of the surf, I collapsed.

  And I succumbed to sleep, thinking that the feel of sand on my cheek might be the best sort of pillow I’d ever had.

  CHAPTER 14

  I awoke to the feel of a blade tip at my throat. I blinked, my heart pounding with hope, dreamily remembering the first time I’d met Javier. But it wasn’t Javier, of course, I told myself groggily. Javier wouldn’t be awakening me with the tip of a sword. He’d be sweeping me into his arms…

  “Get up,” growled Gonzalo, running his hand over one scruffy cheek.

  I groaned and closed my eyes, wishing I could go back to sleep and not wake up to the continuation of my nightmare. Of all the people that had been on that ship, this was the dude I was stuck with? I was tired, so utterly spent.

  My thoughts moved to Mateo, but I didn’t dare look around for him or call for him. If this guy got him too because I reminded him that I wasn’t the only shipwreck survivor who might fetch a ransom, I’d never forgive myself.

  “Get up, I said,” the second mate repeated gruffly, pressing the blade hard enough that I lifted my chin and eyed him. “We must be on our way. Indians might come to pick through the wreckage.”

  I forced myself to rise partway, propping myself with one arm. “To where?” I said with a scratchy-throated scoff, glancing south and north. There was nothing but miles of raw, untouched beach as far as I could see.

  “We will continue north to Monterey,” he said, ignoring my question. He slid the sword aside as I wearily rose and began to work at the damp, sandy knots of my gown. “No need to let down your skirts,” he said.

  I didn’t have to look up to know the jerk was leering at my bare legs, so I continued to work on the knots. If he made a move on me, if there wasn’t a sword between us, I’d show him every move my Krav Maga instructor had ever taught me. But first thing was first. “Do you have any water?” I asked, wincing at the effort of even speaking those few words, given my parched, salty throat.

  He shook his head. “We might find a stream as we move north. We’re just south of the point. I know there’s a watering hole on the other side.”

  That was something, but I didn’t know if I could make it an hour, let alone hike for five or six hours, before my thirst would cripple me. I wished I’d spent more time surfing survivalist Internet sites; maybe then I’d know which plant I could dig up for some sort of nourishment and water, or if there was cactus up in the hills above us worth cutting down for the liquid inside…I thought that was a thing. Wasn’t it?

  Gonzalo was agitated, constantly looking about as we began to walk. Surely it wasn’t Mateo that made him so uneasy. “Did others from the ship make it?” I asked. There were several sets of footprints in the sand, and they couldn’t all be the second mate’s. Maybe one set was Mateo’s.

  “How comforting that you would think about our welfare,” said a voice I knew too well. Captain Mendoza moved out of a cleft in the rocks, lifting his trousers and fastening his belt as if he’d just relieved himself. “Your concern is touching, my dear,” he said, waiting for us to reach him. The mate grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me to a stop in front of the captain. Mendoza reached out to pinch a tendril of my salty, stiff hair and looked me over like I was nothing more than a bag of stolen goods, surprisingly returned to him.

  I pulled away. “Concern for you?” I scoffed. “I hoped you’d gone down with your ship. Isn’t that what the best captains are supposed to do?”

  He laughed under his breath, putting his hands on his belt. “I’m certain you did. But here I am! Unfortunately, with the Crescent Moon and her cargo lost,” he said, bending toward me, “your safe delivery is my only way to redeem that loss.”

  His only way. I blinked. No. Please, no. “Mateo?” I asked in a whisper, in spite of myself. But he seemed to know, seemed to be sure that I was the only one….

  The captain pursed his lips and tapped them, then looked out to sea. “He apparently did not survive. We traversed the length of the beach, looking for signs of him, but there was nothing.”

  “What about all the footprints?” I looked from them to the captain’s face again.

  “Indians, it appears,” he said, dismissing the prints. “Probably down here fishing before the storm.” It was as if there was not a bit of care in him. No bit of care for a boy’s life. I wrenched away from the mate, let out a howl, and crashed into the captain, like a linebacker training for a game. It surprised him, and he went tumbling backward, and I immediately pounced upon his chest, straddling it. I punched him once, twice, before the mate wrapped his burly arms around me and bodily lifted me away by several feet.

  Captain Mendoza rose, sputtering curses and wiping his mouth, grimacing when it came away with blood from the corner. “That is the last time you shall ever strike me,” he seethed as he strode toward us. He leaned toward me, waggling his finger in warning.

  I snapped at it with my teeth, narrowly missing.

  He gaped at me, even as he took a step back. “What sort of woman are you?” he asked. “By turns you are a lady and—a vixen.”

  I just glared at him. I hoped he was scared of me. Because the first chance I got, I wanted to take both these men down and see that they had a very hard time rising again.

  “You are not at all the sort of woman I’d heard Don de la Ventura would give his heart to,” he said, still staring. “You are like a…a wildling.”

  I laughed under my breath. “You have no idea.”

  “I like her spirit,” said Gonzalo, nuzzling his scruffy cheek against my ear. He had my arms pinned against my chest, holding me so tightly that I couldn’t head-butt his nose. “Give me a night with her, Capitán. I’ll hobble her and break her to the saddle by morn.”

  The captain clearly didn’t miss the surge of fear washing through me. A slow grin eased the grim, tight corners of his mouth. He dared to lean closer again. “So you fear that, do you, wildling? Well, be good, or I’ll give Gonzalo what he asks…a night with you, alone.”

  Again, I tried to swallow. Even if I hadn’t been deprived of water since yesterday, I knew I would’ve been scared spitless.

  “Am I not your only remaining prize? The only thing that you might trade for a ransom of gold? Remember that you could yet claim double my bounty, if you deliver me unharmed.” To my own ear, I sounded desperate, and my desperation grated at my heart.

  “Ahh, but some pleasures,” Gonzalo whispered in my ear, pulling me even tighter against the hard width and breadth of his body, “are worth the cost.”

  I panted for breath beneath the mate’s rocklike grip, staring in grim fear at the captain, waiting for him to come to his senses. Above any base desire, greed had to fuel him the most. Wasn’t that what led him to attack Bonita Harbor and kidnap us in the first place?

  But he made me uneasy, as his eyes shifted to the sea and back to me, as if considering it.

  “The gold is a fine treasure,” said Gonzalo. “And yet if we made Don de la Ventura hate us even more, would that not build our future treasure?”

  I frowned in confusion. Future treasure?

  “You should have seen her lying there, so sweetly. And those bare legs, Capitán. So beautifully curved, that I—”

  “Enough,” the captain snapped. I fought the urge to close my eyes in relief. He’d apparently decided, at least for the moment. He reached down in the sand for a span of rope that had washed ashore with all sorts of other wreckage. He tossed it to Gonzalo. “Let’s get this girl to Monterey and find a new ship and crew. We must be ready to sail as soon as we have Ventura’s gold in hand. If he lives up to his reputation, he may very well pursue us, after the girl is safe.”

  With a guttural sound of frustration, the mate wrenched my arms behind me and tied my wrists, every movement harsh. I submitted to it, uncomplaining, knowing I could neither outrun them nor fight them both off. No, I had to bide my time. Take them on, one and then the other.

  “Go on,” Gonzalo said
when he was done, his sausage-like fingers caressing my hips, pulling me against him a moment, before shoving me forward so hard I almost stumbled. The captain was already a good distance ahead. I gritted my teeth, gained my footing, and trudged forward.

  “You think you’re safe, sweetness,” Gonzalo said, drawing his sword and pricking me between the shoulders.

  I scowled back at him and quickened my steps, trying to stay out of his reach. But he kept pace.

  “You think it’s over. Well, it’s not. We get a bit of water, a bit of food, and the capitán’s attention will again wander. There are other forces at work here, you see. Beyond the gold.”

  Again, with the vague references! “What other forces?”

  “Ahh, nothing for you to worry about, sweetness.”

  I could practically feel his gaze on my hips, my butt, my bare feet as they peeked out from beneath the hem of my gown with each step. I didn’t care what it cost me. If he or the captain attacked me, I would die fighting. It made me feel even stronger, thinking that they would lose their last bargaining chip for Javier’s gold if I went down fighting. Maybe I’d even take one of them with me.

  Their last bargaining chip. The phrase ran through my brain as if on repeat. Oh, Javier. He would be devastated. Over Mateo’s loss and then mine. Thinking of his potential pain drove my own fear into a corner, and I teared up, thinking of how glad he’d been that I was still in his arms after trying to return to my own time. He’d been exultant, nearly delirious with joy, and it had been so palpable it had spread to me. He’d wanted to tell me he loved me…and I’d asked him to wait. It had been too much in that moment.

  I smiled through my tears. I had to get back to him, had to be reunited, even for only a moment. I wanted to hear those words from his lips. Tell him I loved him too.

  But that meant I wasn’t willing to die. Not really.

  I glanced over my shoulder to the steadily climbing sun.

  And knew that I already dreaded the coming night.

  CHAPTER 15

  JAVIER

  The road north was deeply rutted from wagon wheels and horse hooves. Most people traveled the length of Alta California by sea, but a fair number still traversed it by land. When I first saw something in the road, several hours into our morning ride, I wondered what it was. A heap of rags? Something that had fallen off the back of a wagon?

  Centinela, Zara’s odd wolf-dog companion, loped toward it as if she were curious too. She’d joined us—at a distance—from the start, as if she’d sensed our goal—then gradually eased nearer. She reached the lump of rags, sniffed it, skittered left and right, looked at me, then loped off.

  No, es imposible, I said to myself, chagrined that I’d even hope it was possible. But as we drew nearer, my heart pounded. It was him! Wasn’t that his curly hair? His wiry adolescent body, beneath the strips of his battered shirt? But he wasn’t moving…. I kicked my mare in the flanks and leaned forward in the saddle, closing the distance between us. I hopped off before she came to a full stop, running the rest of the distance between my brother and me.

  “Mateo,” I panted as I knelt beside him and tenderly lifted him up, frightened that he was dead. The other men on horses thundered up and around us. “Mateo!” I pulled him against me as if my love and hope would send life into his bones.

  His dark lashes fluttered and then slowly rose. His eyes were unfocused for a moment, but it mattered not. He was alive!

  “Ja-Javier?” he rasped out, squinting as he tried to focus on me.

  “Water! Get us water,” I said to the nearest man, then looked directly back to him. “Mateo, how did you get away? Where is Zara?”

  “I do not…know,” he said, closing his eyes and leaning back, wincing in pain.

  He was injured badly. I loosened my grip and gently assisted him down again, pulling aside the remains of his shirt to see alarming, sprawling bruises that told me his injuries were deep and serious. “Mateo, Mateo,” I whispered, lowering his head to the ground. “What has happened?”

  “Shipwreck,” he said simply, gasping out the words. “Zara…saved me.”

  “Saved you? Then she was with you? Might she have survived too?”

  “She did,” he said, looking to me through hard, narrowed eyes. “But they have her…Javier. The captain and the…mate. They tied her up and are—” He grimaced, as if a wave of pain overtook him. “North,” he managed after. “They head….north.”

  I lifted my head and stared hard toward the coast, but much of it was hidden behind the intervening hills. Shipwreck. And the only survivors were two of the crew, Mateo, and Zara? I closed my eyes to give brief thanks to God and crossed myself. When I opened my eyes, the men around me were doing the same.

  “Four of you will remain with my brother. Build a travois and get him home to my mother. She will see to him or send for a doctor. For the rest of us,” I grit out, looking about at each of them, “this day is not over until we see Señorita Ruiz safely away from her captors.”

  ZARA

  We stumbled upon a nearly dry streambed at about noon and hurried up to where we might find a deeper pool. The two men squatted by a foot-wide, shallow pool, ignoring me, sitting there on my knees as they dipped again and again, splashing their faces and drinking until the pool was muddy. Only when their thirst was somewhat sated did Captain Mendoza glance back at me, as if remembering.

  “Cut her loose,” he said.

  “But Capitán—” the mate began.

  “Cut her loose. She is weak with hunger and thirst. She will not attack again.” He stared hard at me as he said it, as if warning me not to try anything foolish.

  Gonzalo went behind me, grunting and huffing as he bent and untied the rope. As soon as I was free, I scrambled forward, cupping my hands and bringing the murky, brackish water to my mouth again and again. I didn’t care what parasites or giardia or whatever else I might get. All I cared about was getting a drink, a blessed drink, and then another…

  The captain lolled to his side on one arm, staring at me like I was an exotic animal at the zoo. He laughed without mirth and then rose, pulling a bag from his side, opened it, and tossed Gonzalo a piece of dried jerky, now rather mushy after the swim to shore. Still, I stared at it, my stomach rumbling.

  Mendoza eyed me. “Forgive me, but there will be none for you, girl. You’ve had your fill of water; that will keep you alive. But I prefer to keep you in a weakened state until we reach Monterey,” he said, subconsciously beginning to lift a hand to his bruised jaw.

  I looked away. I would not give him the satisfaction of a reply. It was almost better to know that he feared me than to have a bit of their lunch. In my world, the only men who feared strong women, who needed to make their girlfriends or wives weak in some way, were men who doubted themselves. It was good, good, if the captain had this need.

  But I glanced up at the sun, high above us, and knew we had only eight or nine hours until nightfall. After a full day’s walk, little water, and no food, how would I be able to fight these two off if they decided to follow through on their threats?

  I had to find a way to dissuade them. Or preserve enough strength to fight them with all I had remaining in me.

  JAVIER

  I divided up the men when we found where Mateo had reached the road. Eight were sent ahead and would double-back along the shore, setting a trap and lying in wait. Eight of us would go after the pirates and Zara from the south, driving them into the trap if not capturing them outright on their own. The eight remaining would patrol the road, in case the miscreants evaded our closing trap on the coast.

  “If we catch up with them,” I said to Rafael, Hector, and the others, “draw your sword and yell with everything in you. I want them frightened; it will be our greatest opportunity for them to give Zara up instead of using her as a shield. And I want them taken alive. I want to savor the moment those fellows are sentenced to death and are forced to climb the gallows, contemplating the price of their transgressions.”
>
  Somber faces nodded in agreement all around me, and we set out.

  We easily picked up their trail in the sand, but they’d already made it past the point, so they were not in sight. We hung back, allowing the other group time to get ahead, to the north, and find a spot to lay their trap.

  Waiting made me mad with worry, knowing that Zara might be suffering even at this very moment. She’d already been through so much. All I wanted to do was whip my horse into a dead run, leaning low in the saddle as we raced along the water’s edge, until I could leap upon the captain and the mate and beat them both senseless. But I could almost hear my older brother’s counsel in my mind: to tear out headlong would be a young man’s indulgence of will, not the way of wisdom.

  And the way of wisdom was the only way I might find Zara safe again in my arms by nightfall.

  I looked about for Centinela, knowing the wolf-dog would bring Zara comfort, but she had disappeared.

  CHAPTER 16

  ZARA

  We followed ten strides behind the captain. He’d insisted Gonzalo stay behind with me, one hand on my elbow at all times.

  The mate smirked at me when my stomach rumbled so loud that he could hear it too. “I have a bit of jerky left in my satchel here,” Gonzalo said, patting the pack slung across his shoulder and hanging near his groin. “What would you trade me for a bit of it?” he whispered wickedly and then glanced ahead to the captain to make sure he hadn’t heard.

  “Mark my words,” I said, not looking his way. “The moment I get the chance, I’ll take that wad of wet jerky and stuff it down your throat until you choke on it.”

  The big man huffed a laugh and yanked me closer. “Fine words from a little bit like you.” We were walking by a sea cliff, and the captain edged out of view for moments at a time as he made his way between boulders. He was now a good twenty paces ahead of us. The rocks we crossed were frequently sharp, and all three of us were barefoot, forcing us to pick our way forward. I could feel the mate’s wandering eyes on me, the increasing distance between the captain and us. The next time Mendoza disappeared around the bend, Gonzalo grabbed me and pushed me against the cliff, pressing into me. “I’m going to teach you how to respect a man,” he said, leaning in to kiss me, his hands moving upward.