Page 42 of Captive of the Pirate King
Locke stares at me, naked desperation in his eyes. He veils it the next second, tightening his jaw. “Take this.” He hands me the sword. “And this.” He passes me a double-barreled flintlock pistol as well, touching a lever on the top. “You’ll need to cock it in order to fire. And you have only two shots, so make them count. I’ll have one of the others show you how to load and reload.”
He leans past me, out of the weapons room, and glances down the corridor in both directions. Satisfied, he loops his arm around my neck and seals his mouth over mine. The kiss scorches my lips, bruises them against my teeth—I can practically taste how scared he is for me. Hecaresabout me, intensely.
The knowledge is a slight balm to my terrified heart. I know Locke will do his best to protect me. I just hope his best is enough. And I’ll need to do my part, to defend myself without actually killing anyone.
Breaking the kiss, Locke whispers, “Don’t you die, Nick.” And then he’s gone, striding up the corridor, shouting to the few pirates still in their berths.
Cauley, the first mate from my old ship theWending Willow, comes to the weapons room a few minutes later and shows me the process of reloading the pistol—how to gauge the right amount of gunpowder, how to place the wadding and the bullet, and how to ram them both down the barrel.
I can’t pretend I’ve mastered it, but I’ve got the general concept. A good thing, too, because judging by the shouts and the boom of the fore guns, the battle for theLady Marcellais already under way.
“How do you feel about this?” I whisper to Cauley. “Being part of an attack on a merchant ship? Not so long ago our ship was the one under attack, and now we’re doing the deed ourselves.”
Cauley strokes his short beard. He looks old enough to be my father, but I wonder how much of that age has come from a life at sea, scoured by salt and sand.
“Doesn’t sit right, I suppose,” he says. “But we knew what our choices were. Piracy, or death. I’d rather be alive.”
“Even if it means you have to kill someone else?” Yet even as I speak the words, even as I judge him, I remember what I did to Jinks. How I bit him, and forced him to kill himself. Granted, there’s a difference between mind-controlling a rapist and attacking a ship full of harmless merchant sailors—but who am I to judge what another person does for survival?
“It’s a dilemma, to be sure, lass,” Cauley says quietly. At the wordlassI shift uneasily and glance around, but there’s no one within earshot. “Good luck up there, and may the Mother Ocean protect you. Though I think you’ve got a decent protector on hand.” He gives me the quickest of winks.
“I don’t know what you mean.” But apparently my face does, because I can feel it heating.
“Young Locke, there.” Cauley nudges my knee with his. “He’s smitten. Is it the boy or the girl he cares for?”
“The girl,” I whisper. “He knows.”
Cauley nods his approval. “He’s a good man, that one. A decent pirate. Never thought I’d say such a thing, but there it is. Stick close to him and me, and you’ll be all right.” With a companionable squeeze of my shoulder, he rises from the bench where we’ve been sitting. “It’s time.”
He’s right. We can’t hang back any longer. A bell is clanging on deck, men are shouting, and the fore-guns crack every few minutes, making my ears ring.
On our way to the deck ladder, I dodge into the crew’s quarters and grab my brother’s knife. It’s been wedged in a crack of one of the posts that hold my hammock. I tuck it into the back of my waistband.
The acrid smell of burnt gunpowder and smoke singes my nostrils as Cauley and I emerge on deck. I’ve got the pistol at one hip and the sword at the other.
“Grapplers are away, Captain!” Locke bellows from the forecastle. “One hit, one miss.”
“Reset and fire the second grappler again,” orders the Captain. He’s standing a few paces away from me. I give him a wide berth and move to stand with a small knot of pirates nearby. They’re checking their weapons, making jokes, guffawing and jostling each other. They don’t seem nervous at all. They don’t seem to care that in a few minutes, they will be killing other human beings—humans who don’t deserve to die.
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The grappler chains are in place, towing the two ships together slowly, gradually, so as not to swamp either one.
“This is going quicker than I thought it would,” says one of the pirates near me. “TheLady Marcellais slower than the Captain expected, eh? Must be carrying a right heavy cargo.”
“Some gold, maybe?” Another pirate rubs dirt-seamed hands together. “I could use some extra gold. We’re puttin’ in to Ravensbeck soon, and I wanna buy me a top-dollar whore, a real nice piece, not them smelly, gap-toothed ninnies that lurk by the docks. I want a shiny clean one with tits as big as my head.”
I wince in disgust—and unfortunately my expression doesn’t go unnoticed.
The pirate who spoke leans close to me, his foul breath puffing against my lips. “Ye think ye’re so much better than me? If your dick’s as spotty as your face, boy, ye won’t be getting’ no woman to touch it, ever. They’ll fear it’s contagious.” Laughter blares from him, spit flecking my face.
“Enough.” Locke shoulders between us. “We’re going over on the ropes. Make ready, boys.”
Some of the other pirates have already prepared the ropes we’ll be using. Locke hustles me over to one of them and whispers, “I can’t help you this time, Nick. You’ll have to swing over alone. Grab the rope, climb the rigging right there until you’re about halfway up, then jump and swing.”
I nod, trying to swallow the terror lodged in my throat.
TheArdent’s prow is coming up on the rear of theLady Marcella. The pirate ship noses slowly alongside, and the pirates already in the rigging begin to swing over and drop. They let loose with ululating battle cries that nearly make me wet my pants. I’ve been on the receiving end of such an invasion. I know first-hand the terror the merchant sailors must be feeling right now.
