The Valkyrie Series: The First Fleet - (Books 1-3) Look Sharpe!, Ill Wind & Dead Reckoning: Caribbean Pirate Adventure
Page 53
My heart felt as if pounded by a tempest. I’d bested Hornigold, but lost two of my own crew and may well be losing Klara too. I’d won Freyja, but if I’d cracked Valkyrie’s stem post, she’d never sail again. And that was when Leo had decided to show his face.
For months, I hadn’t known whether he lived or had been killed, and now he was here I didn’t know what to do, or what I truly wanted to do with him. I wanted to grab him and hold him tight. I wanted to clear the cabin, rid him of his clothing and mine, and lock the door. I also wanted to shoot him.
But I couldn’t think about him now. I hurried down the hatch and to the cabin and Klara as best I could. She lay on her side, very still, and her dark skin looked gray. My heart jumped in fear. “Klara!”
Nothing. No reaction at all. Obi looked up at me in despair.
“She’s very weak,” Bess said. “There was just too much lead in her back and she’s lost a lot of blood. I think she’s only hung on this long to say goodbye.”
I looked at Klara again, stricken. No! She can’t be dying! Not Klara! Not after we risked everything to escape Erik. No!
I slumped to the deck next to Obi, took a rag of cloth and wet it in the bucket near the cot then dabbed Klara’s brow. She opened her eyes and smiled at me. How can I lose her? I can’t say goodbye to Klara. She could not only be a part of my past; I couldn’t bear the thought that my child wouldn’t know her.
“Gabriella.”
I grabbed her hands and rested my head on her shoulder with a sob.
“Klara, I’m so sorry. I promised to keep you safe, and now, and now . . .” I couldn’t continue. Leo rested his hand on my shoulder and I shrugged him off.
“You’ve nothing to be sorry for Gabriella, you freed me.” She paused, her breathing shallow. “This year of freedom, of Obi.” She smiled weakly at him. “It’s been worth so much more than any number of years of slavery, of Erik, even if he’d have allowed me to live them. Thank you.” She quietened again, exhausted. Bess passed me a beaker of water and I encouraged Klara to drink. She started to talk again, her voice a little stronger now.
“I’ll be sorry to leave you, Gabriella, and the other friends I’ve found on the water—especially you, Obi. I’ll miss the wind and the laughter, but I’ll be with my son soon and I want so much to see him again.
“Let your child bring her parents together again. Whether you admit it or not, you’re lost without Leo, you need him as much as he needs you. If you don’t forgive him, your heart will never mend and you’ll become all the things we escaped from. Promise me you’ll let him back into your heart. Promise?”
“Yes, yes, anything, just don’t leave me. I don’t want to be on my own.”
“You won’t be.” She looked at Leo. “Your man is here and your daughter will join you both shortly. I’ll be with you in spirit, but it’s time for me to go to my own child now.”
Obi bowed his head, unable to speak. I leaned my head against his shoulder, wanting to comfort him, but unwilling to let go of Klara’s hand. I didn’t want to let her go, no matter how resigned to death she seemed to be.
“There’s something I never told you, but I have to before I leave. I’ve never known how to and I’m nearly out of time. Erik was my brother. My mother was only thirteen—a child—when Jan Senior, Erik’s father, forced her.”
“The bastard!” I was shocked, remembering the way Erik had offered her to his dinner guests. “But, but I thought he was Jan’s father?”
She nodded, tears running down her face. “He is. You know Jan Senior gave me to Erik as a child; he didn’t recognize me as his daughter. I don’t think he even recognized me as a person. Erik certainly didn’t recognize me as a sister. I named my son Jan to try and make them realize what they had done, but it only made them hate me more.
“Kill him, Gabriella, please. I only wish I’d had the courage to do it myself. He’s an animal, just like his father, kill him for me.”
She took a few labored breaths. Obi hadn’t moved.
“Do you hate me?” she asked, after a long silence.
“Hate you, no of course not, why would I? I’m sickened by him—if not for him, how many lives would have been lived instead of cut short? I can’t believe you’d think I could hate you, why?”
“I have van Ecken blood running though my veins,” she said simply.
“Yes, but your mother’s too, his blood was diluted by hers,” I encouraged. “And I’ve never seen any evidence of van Ecken in you.”
“I suppose.” She fell quiet.
“I hated that house; I was so happy when you arrived, I thought Erik would be happy, and life would get better. Are you sure you don’t hate me?”
“Of course I don’t hate you, you’re my sister, I love you. Why didn’t you tell me before? All that time, everything he did, and he was your half-brother.” I wanted to cry, but couldn’t let her see I was upset.
The effort of talking had visibly weakened her again. She tried to smile, to reassure me, but it was clear she was going. Obi put his own hands around mine, still cupping Klara’s. He stayed silent. I moved my hands away.
“Make me another promise,” she whispered, and I leaned closer to her so she could place her hand on my belly. “Call her Raphaella—let her heal you both. Don’t waste any more time.”
“I can’t believe she won’t know her aunt,” I sobbed.
“Promise.” She was extremely weak.
I nodded, tears running down my face. We stayed like that for what seemed hours, but was only minutes, until she found enough strength to speak once more.
“Thank you. Free.” Followed by a silence that was total.
“Klara? Klara? No. Don’t leave me, come back!” Louder and louder until I was aware of Leo dragging me away.
“Gabriella.” He spoke gently and grasped my shoulders. I let him. He hugged me. I stayed in his arms for a while then pulled away. I couldn’t do this; whatever she’d said, Klara still needed me.
“Bess, would you fetch her hammock please? I’ll prepare her myself.” I had no idea how I kept my voice so level and in command.
“No, Captun. Me.” Obi spoke as he stroked her immobile face. I was about to argue, but stopped, touched by his tenderness.
“Gabriella,” Leo said. “Come back out on deck. Your crew needs you now.”
“Klara needs me.”
“No, she needs Obi. Your crew have lost her too, as well as two others. You’re their captain. You need to be out on deck with them.”
I looked at Obi. He was still stroking Klara’s face.
“Come on, Gabriella, she’s gone,” Leo urged. “There’s nothing more you can do, it’s time to let her go. Let Obi take care of her.”
Chapter 89
LEO
13th May 1687
Gabriella was badly affected by Klara’s death. I knew it, her crew knew it, but Gabriella would not acknowledge it. She’d been distressed in the cabin, but once I’d taken her away from Klara’s body, she acted as if nothing had happened. She offered no tears, no laments, she simply got on with the business of sailing.
She hadn’t thrown any recriminations or accusations at me. It was as if nothing had happened. Nothing. No love, no hate, just blank. Like the still sea in the dead calm that we drifted in, we were wallowing in place, going nowhere, and it was time to bury our dead.
Klara, Annika and Butler, shrouded in canvas, lay on a pile of splintered wood, ripped canvas and a scattering of black powder inside one of Freyja’s longboats.
“Cast off,” Gabriella said quietly, and Jayde untied the boat’s tether, tossed the line on top of the corpses and pushed the boat off.
“Stand by, Andy,” Gabriella instructed. “Carmen, carry on please.”
I was surprised. I’d expected Gabriella to say the service, not Carmen. She intoned the usual service of the dead, but finished a little differently.
“We now commend the bodies of the Valkyries, Charles Butler, Annika Svennson and Klara, to Va
lhalla. Courageous warriors all, we thank them for their sacrifice, and honor their deeds in our service.”
She stepped back and Andy touched an arrow to a lantern sitting on the deck beside her, notched it to her bow string and fired it at the boat grave.
The Valkyries cheered as flames leapt up and called out the names of their dead. I noticed some of my Freedom Fighters were moved, but not Gabriella. She stood still and silent at the bulwark, grasped the rail of her prize and stared at the burning boat grave drifting westward on the swell. Nothing showed on her face at all, only in the whites of her knuckles. I wished I knew how to help her.
Obi watched the flames take hold, then turned and walked away.
I thought back to the first deaths I’d borne as captain, and knew Gabriella’s impassivity was a lie. I knew she felt responsible. Whatever was happening inside her, she had to let it out sooner or later, and the longer she let it brew, the more violent would be its release.
Hornigold and the other dead Freyjamen went overboard in weighted canvas shrouds with no ceremony, then Gaunt thrust a couple of brimming rumpots at us. Gabriella emptied hers in one. I took a smaller drink, then urged her to leave the rail and join the others. She shook her head and headed awkwardly down Valkyrie’s mainhatch. I followed her to the cabin.
“Gabriella, don’t.” She’d downed another full rumpot.
“Gabriella don’t? Gabriella don’t?” she repeated. She didn’t look adrift in a calm now, quite the opposite. Her cheeks flushed red and her eyes flashed as her voice rose. I dodged the empty beaker she threw at me and she drank from the bottle instead.
“Gabriella, please, the child!”
“The child? The child? You didn’t care about the child when you hit me or threatened to lock us up!” she screamed at me. “How dare you remonstrate with me, now? How dare you!”
“Gabriella . . .” She wasn’t being fair; I’d known nothing about the child. I moved toward her, then stopped at her glare.
“Don’t you come near me. Don’t you touch me! What are you even doing here? You made it damned clear you didn’t want me—you’re only here for Hornigold. Tell me, how does it feel that I succeeded where you failed?”
“I’m not here for Hornigold, Gabriella. I’m here for you. Whatever you believe, I’m here for you,” I repeated.
She threw the bottle at the bulkhead and opened another as rum and broken glass pooled on the deck.
“Gabriella.”
Nothing. I carried on regardless. “I know I let you down and I promise I will never threaten you again. You are a captain in your own right. You have succeeded where I failed, and bested Hornigold. You are my equal, and my future.” I paused. “A future, our future, that is right here in this cabin, and I will do anything in my power to keep that safe. To keep you and our child safe and together.”
I moved toward her again, she was crying now, hopefully her rage was spent. I put my arms around her, but she pushed me away and slapped my face, hard. I stared at her. I could not let her provoke me. She had to know she could trust me again. I kept my eyes on hers and made no effort to control my breathing, which was as heavy as hers. My hands had clenched into fists, but stayed at my sides.
Her eyes changed and she reached for me. I stiffened to take the blow, but she grabbed my shirt, hauled me toward her, and kissed me roughly. My shirt tore and she yanked it off me. I reached around and took hold of her own shirt and tore it from her body. Our lips parted and we pressed our foreheads together, panting heavily. I waited to see what her next move would be, and caressed her back, hoping it wouldn’t be violent.
I waited.
She pulled the dagger from my belt and I caught her eyes again. I couldn’t hide my nerves. She looked at me, and I didn’t care for the smile that flickered across her lips. Then she made her mind up, and, obviously amused, stabbed the blade into the wood of the chart table. Quickly followed by my cutlass. I breathed a sigh of relief and she pushed me hard toward the bed. With her belly bulging with life, I did as I was bid, and she stood over me, her eyes wild.
“Care,” I whispered, stroking her stomach. She slapped my hand away, pulled her own dagger out of her belt and cut the ties that bound my breeches, then lightly traced the blade over my chest. I held my breath. Enough was enough. She lifted the dagger and I grabbed her wrist and pushed it away from me. We stared at each other, chests heaving and she smiled, then let the blade drop to the deck. Her breeches followed and I wriggled out of what was left of mine so that she could climb on top of me.
Gabriella was back.
Chapter 90
GABRIELLA
14th May 1687
My eyes fluttered open though it was still dark and very quiet. Why is it so quiet? Why are we not under sail? Something’s wrong. Then I remembered: Freyja, Klara, Leo. I startled wide awake, and realized Leo’s arm was slung over my belly. I was lying on my side, with Leo nestled behind me. I could smell him: sweat, salt and something else, something indefinable, something that was just . . . Leo. I couldn’t decide if I felt protected—or trapped.
I slowed my breathing and stayed still. Judging by Leo’s snores he still slept, and I didn’t want to wake him. I didn’t want to talk to him, or even look at him. But I didn’t want to move away from him either. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt tears trickle down my face and into my ear. I didn’t dare move to wipe them away and had to put up with the tickling.
What am I going to do now? What do I want to do? My best friend was dead, my ship stove into another, and my child would be coming soon.
It was all too much. Leo might have come back to me, but I’d never felt so alone. I sighed and moved my arm to grasp his strong forearm resting on my belly. I loved him. Despite everything, I knew I loved him, and my belly clenched as I remembered our passion of the night before. I wanted him and I’d missed him. But he’d threatened me, betrayed me, and I thought I hated him a little as well.
I let my hand drop back down to the bed. What do I do? I couldn’t lose command of myself now, I’d worked too hard to let go of the ropes, to let Leo take over and make my decisions for me, but what did I really want?
This was getting me nowhere and I tried to think like a captain, like the captain I was. First the boats, Valkyrie and Freyja. I’d lose them both without Freedom and Leo, I knew that. Without him, my best chance at saving my crew would be to stow them into the longboat and limp ashore. But none of them would choose that, they’d all elect to sail with Freedom. No one else had wanted to leave Freedom in the first place. I’d be left with nothing and no one and would likely die alone at sea; and what about the child? What if she came when I was adrift in a longboat? She’d die too. And she wasn’t mine alone, didn’t she have a right to know her father? He hadn’t harmed her, how could I take him away from her?
I blinked more tears away and froze as Leo’s fingers stroked my skin. He was waking. I wasn’t ready to speak to him yet. I concentrated on keeping my breathing steady, trying to fool him into thinking I was still asleep. His fingers stilled and he moved his head on the cushions, burrowing a more comfortable nest. His breathing grew louder again. He wasn’t snoring, but I relaxed, he was still more in sleep than out of it.
My hand stroked the fabric I lay on, feeling the soft nap of the velvet. This was where Klara had died, and all the old bedclothes had been burnt in her boat grave with her. I’d got a bit carried away in replacing them, finding the richest brocades and softest cottons. The crew had been happy to indulge their pregnant captain after our victory, and had raided Freyja’s and Freedom’s holds as well as our own to collect the richest cloth taken as plunder all over the Carib Sea.
Klara. She’d known me better than anyone, yet had begged me to forgive Leo, almost with her dying breath. But could I forgive him? I could honor her by taking him back, yes, but could I forgive him? And the child. Of course, the child. His child.
I sighed. The ships, the crew, Klara and the child. I needed to accept Leo again for all of them. But
what about me? What did I want? What would win? Love? Or hate? But was it really hate, or was it fear? Fear that living with Leo would end up like living with Erik? I’d had enough of living in fear, and enough of living in hate. How could I be sure that living with Leo, that loving Leo, would be different?
“Buenos días, querida.” Leo stroked my belly again. He knew I was awake. I didn’t trust my voice, and stroked his arm in greeting. My breath hitched in my throat, and I clamped my lips shut, hoping he hadn’t heard.
His hand moved higher, cupping my breast and his thumb circled my nipple. It betrayed me and hardened and my breath caught in my throat again. Part of me wanted to stop him, but I made no move.
His hand moved lower, back over the swell of my body, then lower still. I stiffened, then relaxed. I was glad he was behind me. I couldn’t see him, or touch him. I didn’t have to take any part in this. I could feel tears flowing freely down my face, but I made no sound. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to stop this.
He moved and I felt him behind me. I gasped. That wasn’t distress. I didn’t want him to stop. Whatever happened, I did not want him to stop. I moved against him, made it easier for him, yet my tears still flowed, silent.
He kissed my shoulder and neck and held me to him tightly, moving against me and groaning. He was gentle, tender, and we rocked together. My breathing quickened and grew heavier, but I was still aware of my tears. I gripped his arm, wanting him to hold me tighter, tighter, and I knew I loved him. I knew I needed him. I was crying as much for missing him as for what had been lost, and I didn’t want this to stop. I didn’t want to have to look at him, to talk to him, I just wanted to love him.
His movements grew more urgent, and I went with him, pitching through the stormy sea, then, with another groan, it was all over and he was just holding me.
He sighed and pulled me onto my back, propping himself up next to me and we finally looked at each other. He wiped the salt water from my face and smiled. Despite myself, I smiled back.