by Linda Ladd
I am all right," Caitlin insisted, then tried to prove it. "If there are festivities in El Morro tonight, our movements will be less likely detected. And ale is always plentiful at such feasts. Perhaps I will be able to persuade Enriquez to indulge more than he should."
Trey nodded, watching her face closely. Whatever had shaken her had apparently been faced and conquered, but Trey's misgivings intensified drastically as they left the harbor section of the city and the carriage began its slow climb to the fortress of El Morro.
The road was narrow and heavily forested on one side as it ran along the harbor channel in a gradual rise. Excited peasants thronged the roadside, and Caitlin became more jittery as they rounded the last curve and the gray granite walls of the fortress loomed before them like a gigantic tombstone.
The massive wooden gates were open, the arched entryway crowded with visitors, and the carriage slowed to a standstill as the guards cleared the way to the open courtyard within. Many richly appointed carriages sat along one side near the stableyards, but the driver veered away from them and halted the carriage before a wide stone staircase. A red carpet led upward to where a pair of uniformed guards stood waiting at attention behind a stone balustrade that ran along the front of a long arched colonnade.
Trey stepped down and assisted Caitlin to the ground. Her eyes lifted slowly to the top of the steps as a man appeared between the guards. She froze.
Don Pedro de Enriquez, His Excellency and exalted Governor of Santiago de Cuba, had changed very little in the past six years. He stood above her, looking just as he did in her blackest nightmares, his long oily black hair parted in the middle and hanging free, rather than secured into a bagwig. He was short and lean, his sharp foxlike features giving him the look of a hungry predator. But his eyes were what paralyzed her, the glittery black disks that were always darting, darting. Caitlin took an involuntary step backward as he looked directly at her, those eyes crawling over her face like a repulsive spider.
Trey got a firm grip on Caitlin's elbow, and the strength in his lean fingers seemed to flow through to her, giving Caitlin the courage that had almost failed her. She forced a smile as she walked with Trey up toward the man she had sworn to kill. She set her teeth and met his gaze, and when she saw no recognition in the dark eyes, a fierce calm descended over her. This man—no, this animal—had Christian. If she panicked or showed her fear, all was lost. Christian was lost. Trey released his held breath as she spoke in smooth and fluent Spanish.
"Your Excellency. I am your servant, Doña Marta Torrez." She affected a low curtsy, and Enriquez smiled at the charming woman in front of him.
"Doña Marta," he said, drawing her up. "Please allow me to welcome such a beautiful visitor to my city."
"Gracias, Your Excellency, but I fear I have the sad duty to inform you that your son Diego was detained in Spain. I have been sent in his stead with these letters of introduction from the King."
Enriquez barely glanced at the documents as he took them from her. He smiled, his eyes playing over her lovely face and trim figure until Trey's blue eyes grew hard.
"My son shows very good taste in choosing his replacements," he murmured, lifting Caitlin's hand to his lips.
Caitlin's teeth were clamped together, bile surging in the back of her throat, as his mouth touched her flesh. She wanted to kill him, she wanted to take out her dagger and stab him a million times. Trey stepped forward when Enriquez continued to hold her hand.
"I am Jacques LeConte, Your Excellency. I have been appointed as ambassador to the governor-general of Havana."
He had spoken in French, and the governor answered in kind.
"Welcome to Santiago, monsieur, I hope your stay with us will be a lengthy one."
His eyes returned almost at once to Caitlin. "Our banquet of Santa Maria is just beginning inside the hall. Will you honor me with your presence?"
"I should be delighted, Your Excellency."
Caitlin braced herself as she put her fingers on his spotless white sleeve with its gold braid, and Trey followed them up more steps and across the wide stone gallery to where open doors led into a long hallway intersected by many others.
Servants hurried about with trays of food and pitchers of wine and beer, and Trey was relieved to see the activity in the corridors and courtyard. After dark when the wine had been consumed, there would be even more frenzy and confusion. He noted the position of the guards as they walked, calculating that they were stationed along the walls in pairs perhaps fifty feet apart. He continued to search and memorize the interior of the castle as they were taken through a large room hung with tall, gold-framed mirrors to the feast hall.
Trey glanced at Caitlin. She was handling herself well. She seemed at ease except for the high spots of color in her cheeks. He stood close beside her as they entered an enormous room with arched pillars supporting an upstairs balcony. A large crowd of elegantly attired guests milled about the main floor among a series of long tables, and the loud drone of conversation dimmed at their appearance, then surged again as they made their way to the dais where the governor's honored guests took their meal with him.
Many of the gentlemen and ladies nodded or curtsied in deference to Enriquez's title, and the governor stopped several times to introduce Caitlin and Trey to the elite of Santiago. Caitlin grew more and more impatient for them to discuss her brother, her fear and hatred simmering under her veneer of tight control. She obediently took the seat to the right of Enriquez as Trey was seated on his left.
The feast began at once, and the many guests took their seats as white-garbed male servants appeared, serving whole roasted pigs and fowl and countless other dishes. Caitlin looked at the plate before her. The dish was of pure gold, an ornate script "E" entwined with curlicues in the center. She and Christian had once captured a crate of identical dishes from one of Enriquez's ships before they sank it. It had gone down on the Anna.
Caitlin stiffened as Enriquez leaned very near, motioning for the servant behind them to fill her silver goblet. She kept her eyes on the dark red wine instead of his moving eyes. He lifted his filled goblet toward her.
"Monsieur LeConte, let us salute the exquisite beauty of Doña Marta," he said with a silky smile, and Caitlin lowered her lashes as they drank to her.
Trey inquired about the festivities planned in the city, and Caitlin listened to Enriquez's answer, knowing Trey probed for information that might help in their escape. But all she could really think about was Christian and the fact that he was nearby, somewhere in the castle where she sat, in chains and suffering. She stiffened as Enriquez spoke close to her ear.
"I only hope I can entice you to stay longer here in Santiago, my dear. I am most willing to offer you all the hospitality available here in my city."
Caitlin smiled and sipped her wine, but a shiver coursed over her as his black eyes delved into hers. He noted the tremor, but Caitlin quickly turned it to her advantage, using it to broach the subject that she and Trey had rehearsed so diligently.
"You are most kind, Your Excellency," she murmured, glancing at Trey. His blue eyes watched her, waiting for her to continue. She looked at Enriquez. "But I must admit that I am most fearful to venture upon your waters again after the terrible ordeal we were forced to endure upon the Bella. I shall hurry back to Seville, where I will be safe from the horrid English pirates."
Enriquez's eyes sharpened. "Pirates? You were accosted, then?"
"Yes," Trey told him, "our escort ship was sunk, and we were only able to escape by outrunning the Anna."
Enriquez's whole face changed, his top lip snarling in hatred as mottled anger rose to darken his face.
"The Alexander dogs of the Anna have been a thorn beneath my flesh for many years, but they will pay the price. Their father's head decorated a Spanish pike, and now his son rots in my dungeons, awaiting the same. Only the girl, Caitlin, escapes my justice."
Caitlin went absolutely rigid, each muscle flexed into stone, and Trey saw her white
face and sought to bring Enriquez's attention to him.
"Do you speak of Christian Alexander, Don Enriquez? Is he not the very one Doña Marta is to see transported to Spain for execution? The decree is among those given to you earlier."
"To Spain?" Enriquez asked. "But why? I do not like to think of being cheated out of the pleasure of watching the swine lose his head."
Caitlin's fingers clenched around the carved arms of her chair, and when Enriquez saw her reaction, he fortunately mistook it for something quite different. He smiled.
"Do not distress yourself, my dear. He is in little condition to frighten you after sampling our hospitality for the past months. He has paid much for his crimes against Spain."
"If he really is Christian Alexander," Trey said calmly. "It is said in Seville that you have taken the wrong man. Others have seen Christian Alexander swinging his cutlass aboard the Anna."
Enriquez laughed aloud. "That is utterly absurd, my friend. He was identified by his own lover, and there are few who would know a man better."
Caitlin found her voice at last, a fierce determination taking over. "The King bears the same doubts, I am afraid. That is why he wishes to see the prisoner for himself. It is said that the real Christian Alexander has a sear across his chin, given to him by Spanish steel. Does your captive have such a mark?"
Enriquez smiled with the utmost confidence. "He has many new scars given by my guards, but I have given little thought to his chin."
Caitlin felt she was going to be sick, but she tried desperately to compose her face, knowing their plans were now very near to fruition.
"I am a wagering man, Your Excellency. I know nothing of the English scum you have in your dungeons, but such chances appeal to me. Are you so sure of your informant that you will make me a wager that it is indeed the Alexander man you hold?" Trey said with a challenging smile. "Perhaps one hundred gold pieces?"
"One hundred gold pieces?" Enriquez repeated in surprise, then smiled as if pleased with Trey's foolishness. "If you are that willing to be parted with your gold, I will take such a wager. I will send a guard to look upon Alexander's face."
"I should like to see the villain myself, if you please," Trey remarked casually, raising his goblet. "Not that I do not trust you, but the blackguard's notoriety extends even to French corsairs. Why not bring him here?"
"And offend the fair ladies, such as Doña Marta? I find it a distasteful prospect to bring such filth into our midst."
Caitlin's teeth came together hard, and she lowered her eyes, as cold as winter ice.
"Then let us view the wretch in one of the antechambers," Trey suggested. "Your office, perhaps? I daresay you are right about receiving him in private. The sight of an Englishman would no doubt ruin the appetites of many a Spaniard in this hall, even be he dragging chains."
Enriquez laughed, and Caitlin's eyes met Trey's in silent communication as the governor turned and gave a clipped order to one of the guards stationed behind him.
"Have the English pirate brought to my office immediately. My guests wish to see him for themselves."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Caitlin sipped her wine, trying to curb her impatience, as Enriquez continued to lean very near to her. Every time he touched her, she felt sick; at each whispered compliment, she wanted to pull her knife and plunge it into his heart. But an icy shield of calm had formed around her. No matter how much she hated him, she would not ruin her chances of getting to Christian. She glanced at Trey to find him relaxed and smiling, showing none of the tension she felt.
The feast had progressed from the earlier decorum into a boisterous affair, with many already drunk, and Caitlin had been glad to see that Enriquez held no aversion to the wine, his goblet constantly being refilled. She stiffened as a servant climbed the dais and whispered into Enriquez's ear. He turned to Trey, smiling.
"It seems our English friend awaits us in my office," he said. "Come, let us see the man who will lose you a small fortune."
Trey stood and moved to Caitlin's chair. "Doña Marta will no doubt wish to look upon such a legendary pirate, if indeed it is he."
Caitlin stood at once, her heart hammering as she put her hand on Trey's arm. His muscles were tense beneath his sleeve, and he put his hand over hers, stopping its trembling, as Enriquez led them toward a draped door behind their table.
"Try not to react, no matter how he looks," Trey whispered softly, and Caitlin nodded as she preceded him through the doorway.
The room was small, with only a wall sconce holding three lit candles, and as Trey shut the door behind them, closing out the noise of the feast, Caitlin's eyes beheld her brother. Oh, God, no, she cried in inner anguish, hardly recognizing the starved figure with long matted hair. He was on his knees, a wide iron band around his neck, the chain attached to it held by a guard. That can't be Christian, she thought in despair, not that pathetic, beaten, helpless creature. Christian was so tall and straight and strong, always laughing, always chasing women. Her first instinct was to run to him, to hold him, but she was held tight by Trey's firm grip on her arm. She wanted to cry, to curse, to kill!
"You can see that he does not get on well with his jailers, Monsieur LeConte," Enriquez murmured. "It seems from the blood that he even balked at coming here. Stupid swine." He glanced at Caitlin. "I do hope he does not offend your delicate sensibilities, Doña Marta. Perhaps you would prefer to await us outside?"
Caitlin shook her head, her gaze returning to her brother as Enriquez stepped nearer to him.
"Raise his face," he ordered the guard, and the soldier grabbed a handful of the matted black hair and wrenched Christian's head upward.
Christian growled, cursing him in Spanish as he aimed a blow at the guard's head. Caitlin's hand went to the knife at her leg as the soldier slammed his fist against Christian's temple, making him cry out in pain. Only Trey's presence stopped Caitlin from hurling the knife as the guard grabbed Christian's hair and violently jerked up his head.
"Now for the scar," Enriquez said. "If we can detect it beneath the filth."
He grimaced with distaste as he turned Christian's face with one finger. Christian's head lolled loosely to the side, blood oozing from several open cuts on his face, but even in his disoriented state, his bleary eyes were drawn to Caitlin's face. He squinted, trying to focus on her, and Enriquez laughed.
"Even English scum such as he appreciate the fair beauty of Spanish ladies," he said, but his smile faded as Christian tried to speak.
"Cait? No, no, let her go. Let my sister go. . . ." he mumbled through bloody swollen lips, weakly trying to free himself in order to help her.
Trey saw Enriquez jerk his face to Caitlin, saw the comprehension dawn in the small black eyes.
"Guards! Seize the—"
Enriquez's cry was cut short as Trey grabbed him by the arm and spun him around, then slammed a steel-knuckled fist into Enriquez's jaw. Trey felt the bone give beneath the blow as Enriquez went flying backward, overturning a small desk with a tinkling of glass and thudding of books before sliding down the wall in a tangled mass of arms and legs. The guard recovered from his shock and went for his sword, but Trey's blade had barely scraped free when the soldier staggered backward, Caitlin's dagger in the hollow beneath his Adam's apple. He dropped his sword, giving a strangled choking sound, then reeled sideways and went down.
Caitlin thought no more of him, or Enriquez, but sank to her knees at Christian's side.
"Christian, Christian," she moaned brokenly as Trey turned over the dead guard and searched him for the keys to the irons. "Can you hear me, Christian? We have come for you. You have to get up and walk!"
Christian struggled to hear her, struggled to sit, but weeks of starvation and abuse had left its mark, and his mind was still dazed from the guard's fist.
"Trey, he can't even stand up!"
"I'll have to carry him," Trey said quickly, unlocking the leg irons, then moving to the iron collar around Christian's neck. "Go barricade
the door over there. Hurry!"
Caitlin ran to obey, barely glancing at Enriquez, who lay in the shadows, moaning in agony. She inched open the door and found those outside still laughing and enjoying the music. None seemed to be aware of the governor's absence, and the two guards still stood in their places on the dais, their backs to Caitlin. She closed the door softly and slid the bolt, then dragged a heavy table over in front of it. She ran back as Trey stripped off his black coat and pulled Christian up into a sitting position.
"Help me get this on him. We'll have to make the guards outside think he's drunk."
Caitlin pushed Christian's arm through one of the sleeves, and Trey left her to finish it while he crossed to the dead guard. He jerked off the uniform jacket and bandoliers, quickly donning them himself. They had been very lucky thus far, too lucky for it to hold much longer, and it was only a matter of time before the guards came looking for the governor. Trey wanted to be out of the castle by then. He grabbed a decanter of wine from a cabinet and poured it over Christian's face and neck before hoisting his limp body over his shoulder.
Caitlin took the time only to pick up the guard's sword before she ran in front of them to open the door that led to the interior hallways of the castle. The corridor outside was deserted, and she concealed the sword in the folds of her skirt as they hurried down to where the intersecting hall would take them to the colonnade of the courtyard. Trey cursed when they came upon two guards standing together at the door to the portico. Caitlin stepped forward, despite Trey's attempt to stop her, and both guards snapped to attention at the appearance of the beautiful woman.
"I wish to return to the Bella," she ordered imperiously. "Have my coach brought around at once."
One guard nodded and rushed off to obey, but the other's eyes moved to Trey, who stood half-hidden in the shadows. He frowned when Trey did not step forward, and Caitlin spoke quickly.
"The French are drunken fools," she muttered in irate Spanish. "I will never allow one to escort me again. I sometimes think they are as heathen as the English, whether they are allies or not. Do you not agree, Capitan?"