Black Heart

by Justin Somper

  He shrugged. “I just thought you might be thirsty again when you woke.”

  She shook her head. “You really do think of everything. Can I pour you a glass?”

  “Why not?” he said.

  She thought how fragile the thirteenth-century glass looked in Sidorio’s beefy fingers. He was far older even than the glass, but he was so strong, so vital. Any moment now he would surely snap the glass in two. But no. He held it carefully there in his hands, the same hands she had observed in their full brutality a few hours earlier. She noted with pleasure how he had learned to swirl the liquid in the glass so as to release the finer subtleties of its “nose,” and to sip at it rather than to down the contents in one gulp.

  “You know,” she said, “I think you and I are rubbing off on each other.” She sipped her own drink contentedly, then noticed he was watching her very closely. “What is it, my darling?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said. “Sometimes I just like looking at you.”

  “Oh, Sid, come over here and sit beside me. It’ll be a squeeze—you’re such a brute of a thing—but I want to be close to you.” She made room for him to sit on the chaise longue. She set her wine glass down on the deck. “Comfy?”

  “Yes,” he said, planting a kiss on her head.

  “You’ve not had very much affection in your life, my darling, have you?” Lady Lockwood said. “As great as you are, as preeminent in your world—in our world—I think you’ve been a little starved for close company and companionship. Am I right?”

  Sidorio shrugged and drank from his glass. “I have Stukeley and Johnny to keep me entertained,” he said with a grin. “And another few hundred crew reporting to me.”

  “Well, yes. But they can’t offer you the same kind of companionship that I can, now can they?”

  Sidorio laughed and shook his head. “No, Lola. I’d much sooner look at you than at their ugly mugs.”

  “Anyhow,” she continued, “I meant farther back than that. Back when you first crossed. All that time spent alone, wandering the world, before you found your way to the Nocturne.” She turned to look up at him. “And even then, you didn’t really fit in. Their way of doing things could never be your way. It was only a matter of time before you and the captain came to blows.”

  He frowned. “Are you trying to make me feel bad?”

  “Of course not. Quite the opposite. I’m just saying that you must have been lonely at times. And, frankly, so was I. Perhaps it’s the price we have each paid for our greatness.”

  “Perhaps,” he reflected. Then he asked, “Are you lonely now?”

  “With you?” she said. “No! Never with you.”

  “Well, then,” he said, with a grin, “we’ll just have to spend more time together, won’t we?”

  Lola nodded and settled herself against Sidorio’s chest, closing her eyes. She lay there gently dozing under the starlight. Sidorio reached forward and drew the blanket over Lola’s sleeping body. He didn’t want her to feel any discomfort whatsoever. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to protect and care for her. But the thought unleashed a sudden spiral of panic within him. What was happening to him? Was he losing his edge? The thought made him suddenly jump up.

  Lady Lockwood awoke with a start. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Sidorio was pacing back and forth across the deck, finally coming to a standstill against the deck rail.

  “What is it?” she rose to her feet, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders and following him to the edge of the deck.

  He paused, attempting to collect his thoughts. “It’s not you,” he began. “It’s me. The person I am when I’m with you. I become someone else. I thought I was bad, evil. I’m comfortable with that. It fits me just right, like a well-worn glove. Then you come along and awaken all these thoughts and feelings in me. Feelings that I didn’t think I had. That I was even capable of.” He traced the chiseled outline of her cheek. “I don’t like it, Lola. It makes me feel off-kilter.”

  She smiled. “I understand what you’re saying, Sidorio, I really do. But don’t you see? It’s possible to love me, to care for me, and to still be evil. I am, after all. Think back to this evening, when we stalked that couple together. Wasn’t that evil? And wasn’t it fun?”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “It was fun.”

  “And wasn’t it more fun because we did it together? It wasn’t you on your own or with one of your crew. You were with me, the one you love and who loves you back. And we were both evil. Very, very evil.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes, we were.”

  “Trust me,” she said. “If I seriously thought you were losing the capacity for evil, I’d throw you overboard in a heartbeat. It would bore me silly. But don’t you see? The more evil, the more vicious, you are to everyone else, the more special your tenderness to me becomes. Does that make sense?”

  He paused for a moment, considering her words, then nodded. “It has a certain twisted logic.”

  “Exactly!” Lola said. “We have a certain twisted logic, too. That’s exactly what we have. We shouldn’t work, but somehow we do. Ours is a brutal romance. You’re evil. I’m evil. And together we are evil squared.”

  “You’re right,” he said, not entirely understanding but grasping the gist of her argument. He gazed at her with wonder. “Marry me!”

  She laughed good and hard at that. “Oh, Sid, you crack me up! You really do.”

  “I’m serious,” he said. “Marry me! We can be together through all eternity, making each other’s lives a joy and everyone else’s a misery!”

  Lola beamed but shook her head. “A moment ago, I thought you were walking out on me. And now this? I don’t know what to think!”

  “Marry me!” he repeated, reaching out his arms to her waist and drawing her closer toward him. “We’re a perfect fit. We were meant to be together.”

  She felt his strong arms about her waist, saw the strange light in his eyes. It was like a distant lighthouse guiding her home. He was right. They were a perfect fit. Unstoppable. He was everything she had wanted from the first moment she had seen him—and if truth be known, even before that. “Yes!” she said. “Yes! I will marry you.”

  “You’re getting married?” Stukeley exclaimed.

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” Lady Lockwood said. “Look at my divine ring!” She flashed the hefty jewel before Stukeley’s eyes.

  “When?” inquired Johnny bluntly.

  “Soon,” said Sidorio.

  “Very soon,” said Lady Lola. “What’s the point in waiting? We’ve both been around the block enough times to know when we’re ready.”

  Stukeley couldn’t even look at Johnny. He painted on a phony smile and gazed at the happy couple. “Well, I’m delighted. Really I am. For both of you.” He stepped forward and kissed Lady Lockwood on each cheek, then shook hands with Sidorio.

  “Of course, it won’t be a conventional wedding,” Lady Lockwood said, “but we’d like you both to be involved, wouldn’t we, darling?”

  Sidorio nodded. “As my ring bearers,” he said.

  Lady Lockwood nodded. “And Angelika and Marianne will be my ring bearers.” She passed her eyes across Stukeley and Johnny approvingly. “What a beautiful quartet the four of you will make.”

  “It would be an honor,” Stukeley said, realizing that he had no choice in the matter.

  “Mine, too,” said Johnny.

  “That’s marvelous!” Lady Lockwood said, clapping her hands. “What a happy little family we’re all going to make!”

  “Yes,” nodded Stukeley, feeling strangely nauseous.

  “Well, I’d better get back to the Vagabond,” Lady Lola said. “There’s so much to work out.” She turned to Sidorio. “Will you escort me to the door?”

  He nodded.

  “Good night, boys!” Lady Lockwood gave them both a cheery wave.

  “Congratulations,” said Stukeley.

  “Yes,” nodded Johnny. “Congratulations!”

  They watched
as Sidorio held the door open for his fiancée, then took her hand and followed her out into the corridor.

  As their footsteps receded, Stukeley became brisk and businesslike. He marched over and closed the cabin door tight shut.

  “We have to think fast,” he said.

  “Yes,” Johnny nodded. “Like the lady says, there’s a lot to figure out in a short time. Should we wear matching suits, do you think?”

  Stukeley grabbed Johnny by the shoulders. “Earth to Johnny! I’m not talking about the wedding arrangements. We’ve got far more important things to think about.”

  “We do?” Johnny asked.

  “Of course!” nodded Stukeley. “This changes everything. Don’t you see?’ He met his friend’s eyes. “Who’s in charge of this operation now?”

  “The captain,” Johnny said. “Sidorio.”

  “That’s right,” said Stukeley. “And who’s next in command?”

  “You,” said Johnny. “And me!”

  Stukeley shook his head. “Uh-uh. Not anymore! As soon as they’re hitched, Lady Muck will have the run of things, and we’ll be left out in the cold.”

  “No,” Johnny said. “The boss wouldn’t do that to us. I got a feeling—”

  Stukeley shook his head. “He won’t have any choice in the matter. Don’t you see the way she leads him around like a little poodle? Do this! Do that! Marry me! I bet she had this planned right from the beginning.”

  “No,” Johnny said. “She distinctly said that he asked her. And the ring! You saw the ring he gave her.”

  Stukeley waved his hand. “Doesn’t mean anything. She’s a schemer, that one. She may come across like love’s old dream, but deep down, she’s as cold as ice. She’s not in love with Sidorio. She wants his power base, that’s all. No wonder they call her Black Heart. She’s played him like a cardsharp.”

  “No.” Johnny shook his head.

  “Yes!” Stukeley insisted.

  Johnny shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. The wedding is going to happen, and soon. You should try to be happy for them!”

  Stukeley shook his head. “You can start picking out a nice suit for yourself if you like, mate. Why, you can even choose one for me, if it tickles your fancy.” There was a dark look in his eyes, a look Johnny had never seen before. “But there isn’t going to be a wedding. Not if I have anything to do with it.”

  “What are you planning now, hermano?” Johnny asked, shocked but fascinated.

  “Watch and wait,” said Stukeley, grinning darkly at his friend. “Like the man says, the path of true love never did run smooth.”

  38

  RENDEZVOUS AT MA KETTLE’S

  It was a rainy night, but that wasn’t “Cutlass” Cate Morgan’s only cause for concern as she joined the line outside Ma Kettle’s Tavern. She pulled her cloche hat lower over her distinctive titian-red hair and glanced at her watch. Looking along the line, she noticed Ma’s chief of security, Pieces 08, frisking the pirates ahead of her.

  In spite of the well-advertised change in policy and the rigorous security procedures, many pirates still hadn’t gotten the message that it was now prohibited to bring any sword, knife, or alternate hilt weapon into the tavern. She watched as Pieces expertly patted down a much-celebrated pirate captain and produced no less than eight pieces of weaponry. “You have yourself a wonderful evening, madam,” said Pieces, patient and polite as ever. He placed the armory in a crate for collection at the end of the evening.

  “Come on!” Cate muttered under her breath, glancing once more at her watch. “Come on!”

  It was only another five minutes before she made it to the front of the line, but it seemed a lot longer.

  “Why, is that Miss Morgan?” Pieces asked, poised to give her a very public greeting.

  “Yes,” said Cate, her voice low. “Good evening, Pieces. I’m here on a private matter, so I’d be grateful for your utmost discretion.”

  “Of course, miss, of course!” he said, winking at her.

  Cate readily surrendered her épée and passed it over to Pieces, a banknote wrapped around the tip of the foil. “For your discretion,” she said with a nod.

  “That’s mighty kind of you,” he said. “Come on through!”

  He lifted the velvet rope, and Cate brushed past him into the bustling tavern. Once more, she glanced at her watch. Ten minutes late. Not ideal. Not ideal at all. She just had to hope she’d covered her tracks sufficiently with Molucco and that he wouldn’t change his plans for the evening and make a sudden beeline for Ma’s.

  “Cate,” said a familiar voice as a hand lightly brushed her shoulder.

  Cate jumped, then saw that it was only Sugar Pie, Ma’s trusty second in command. She smiled nervously. “Hello, there. How are you?”

  “Just fine,” said Sugar Pie. “Where’s the rest of your crew? Any chance of Bart swinging by later?”

  Somewhat flustered, Cate shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s just me, as far as I know. I have a little business to conclude. Private business.”

  “Say no more,” said Sugar Pie, tapping the side of her button nose. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  Cate smiled, then dipped her head and moved swiftly through the crowd, striding up the staircase to the line of curtained booths above. Only one of the booths appeared to be occupied. Her rendezvous awaited her. Cate took a deep breath, then parted the velvet curtain and slipped inside.

  “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show,” said Cheng Li, basking in the glow of candlelight. “Nice hat, by the way.”

  “Sorry,” said Cate, removing the hat and shaking out her hair. “It took longer getting here than I’d hoped. The line outside was crazy.”

  “Well, you’re here now. That’s what matters.” Cheng Li smiled. “Sit down, relax! I took the liberty of ordering you a pint of Ma’s Reserve Ale. It used to be your favorite.”

  “It still is,” Cate said, sitting down.

  “You see,” said Cheng Li, “that’s one of the things I like about you, Cate. You’re a constant in this fast-changing world of ours.”

  Cate’s face was masklike, save for one raised eyebrow. “Is that your way of saying I’m boring?”

  “Boring? Why, of course not. Dependable. Good in a crisis. These qualities are not boring. Not from the perspective of a captain.”

  Cate visibly relaxed at Cheng Li’s praise. Cheng Li nodded. “Drink your ale, Cate. You must be thirsty.”

  Cate lifted the mug and took a sip. A frothy mustache formed on her upper lip. She was oblivious to it until she noticed the smile creeping across Cheng Li’s face. Embarrassed, Cate wiped away the foam.

  Cheng Li was drinking moonflower tea. She poured herself a fresh glass and stirred in a spoonful of manuka honey. “So tell me,” she said casually, “how’s life aboard the Diablo?”

  Cate shrugged. “Not so different from how you’d remember it.”

  “Oh, dear,” said Cheng Li, sipping her tea. “I had hoped that Molucco might have mended his ways just a little by now. But I suppose it’s true—you can’t teach an old sea dog new tricks!”

  “Molucco’s Molucco,” said Cate, choosing her words carefully. “He’s another constant, if you like.”

  “Yes,” agreed Cheng Li. “A constant pain in the—”

  “I’m sure you didn’t summon me here to bad-mouth Molucco,” Cate said, a note of formality restored to her voice.

  “No,” agreed Cheng Li. “He’s pretty low on my list of current concerns.” She took another sip of tea. “No, Cate. I invited you here to talk about you.” She paused. “To talk about your future.”

  “My future?” Cate echoed.

  “Yes. Your future. Your goals. Your five-year plan. I assume you do have a five-year plan?”

  Cate sipped her ale and shook her head. “Don’t need one,” she said. “I know exactly where I’ll be in five years. I signed up to Captain Wrathe’s articles for life.”

  “Oh, Cate,” sighed Cheng Li. �
��I can’t help but think you’re selling yourself a little short. As I said before, things are changing fast in our world.”

  “Yes,” acknowledged Cate. “But as you also said, I’m a constant. I don’t believe in switching allegiances every five minutes, like—” She broke off, glancing down at the flickering candle.

  “What were you going to say, dear? Like me? Or like Connor Tempest?”

  Cate resumed eye contact. “Connor had his reasons. I understand that. I like and respect Connor very much. Even so, I think he was wrong to leave.”

  Cheng Li raised an eyebrow. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that.”

  “How is Connor?” Cate asked.

  “Thriving,” Cheng Li said. “I must say that it gives me great pleasure to watch him evolve from a young drifter into a pirate of considerable talents. I suppose I can’t help feeling a special bond with him. After all, it was I who fished him out of the sea that first night. If it wasn’t for me, he would have drowned, and a great pirate would have been lost.”

  Cate smiled. “You’ve done many things I’m somewhat dubious about,” she said, “but I’ll always be grateful to you for rescuing Connor. I’m sure all of his friends would say the same.”

  “Thanks,” Cheng Li said. Her voice became intimate once more. “He misses you, Cate. And he misses Bart. He has good friends on the crew of the Tiger. And me, of course. But I’m occupied with the business of running the ship so much of the time, I can’t give him as much attention as I’d wish.”

  Glancing at her watch, Cate drained the last drops of her ale. “Let’s cut to the chase,” she said. “What do you want from me?”

  There was a discreet cough outside the booth. “Right on cue,” announced Cheng Li. “Come in!”

  Cate’s face was a picture of alarm, but as the curtains parted, she sighed with relief. Sugar Pie leaned in and deposited another pint of ale on the table. She put a finger to her lips, winked, and backed out of the booth.

  “I thought you might be thirsty,” said Cheng Li, indicating the fresh pint.

  “I’d sooner hear what you have to say with a clear head, thanks,” said Cate, pushing the mug away from her.