by Monica Hahn
He laughed, and so did his men, until one of them squinted at the opposing force and a look of pure terror crossed his face. “It’s Tarik!” he said, so frozen with fear that the words barely made it out of his mouth. But he was overheard, and the dreaded word was passed along until it reached the captain, who blanched at the prospect of facing Tarik the Terror. But it wasn’t as though he could just surrender. He’d never command a ship again if he did so. And part of him rose to the challenge. Just because Tarik had never been defeated that anyone knew of, didn’t necessarily mean that it wasn’t possible. And maybe he was the man to finally do it!
This did not turn out to be the case. In another classic example of previous performance being the most reliable predictor of future events, it took less than an hour for Tarik and his crew to subdue the pirate ship.
Chapter Eleven
Although this encounter ended as they always did, with Tarik’s crew as the victors and the pirate captain walking the plank, there was a surprise in the hold. Mikel had brought some of the men with him down below to inventory any treasure, when he saw the chains that meant this had been used as a slavers vessel. He felt bile rise in his throat, hating the thought of anyone treated like that. And then he saw, in the far corner, against a wall barely illuminated by the torches that his men had brought along, a girl chained up. He was soon facing the two miscreants guarding her, and was surprised to see that they were men he had once fought alongside.
“Curs,” he spat at them.
“Mikel?” Johan asked, as he got a closer look and recognition flooded his face, along with relief. “Seb, it’s Mikel,” he told his companion.
They both lowered their weapons.
“I thought Tarik had taught you better,” Mikel said. He lifted his sword.
“Don’t,” came a quiet request from the girl. “They protected me.”
Johan and Seb looked as surprised as Mikel.
“Those are the first words I’ve heard her speak,” Seb said. “I was wondering if she could talk.”
“But, it’s the truth,” Johan said. “We’ve been keeping her safe from the others.”
“Well, let her go now,” Mikel said, impatiently. “Unless you’d like Tarik to find her like this?”
That got them scurrying about and they unlocked the cuffs. The girl had been slumped back against the wall, and without the restraints she stood up unsteadily and faced Mikel.
“Don’t worry,” he said, switching from Apries to Panskorin automatically, to reassure her in the same language that she had used. “We are honorable men and won’t harm you.”
She looked warily at him, but followed him to the steps and accepted his hand to climb up. Once on the deck her deplorable condition was even more apparent. She was filthy, her once fine dress a mess, with what looked like a trail of dried blood down one side of it. Her wrists were not only bruised from the shackles, but she also had cuts along both hands and arms that weren’t healing properly. Her hair was dark and tangled, and she winced at the bright sunlight. When her eyes had adjusted to the light and she focused them again on Mikel, he saw that they were a striking cornflower blue. She was somewhere around his age, and would probably be attractive once she was clean.
Tarik saw her, of course, and came over. He didn’t speak to the girl, but asked Mikel about her. Seb and Johan explained what they knew, that the girl had been abducted at Tibercon and smuggled aboard, and when the captain had found out, he had decided to keep her unharmed and sell her at Laorgy. Mikel grimaced at the mention of the city famous for its sex trade.
“Unharmed appears to be relative,” Tarik said, dryly, looking the girl over.
She stood there, in all her grime, with her shoulders back and actually raised a brow at this, for all the world as if they were discussing the weather in a drawing room. Tarik chuckled and Mikel found himself admiring the girl.
“Oh, it’s not her blood,” Seb said. “We protested the captain’s plan, so he assigned us to watch her, but we left her alone one night for five minutes.”
Johan shook his head. “She was attacked and she bit half the cur’s ear off.” He smiled at the girl. “She’s a spunky lass,” he said.
Mikel had been wondering if the girl understood them, since they were speaking Apries, but he guessed from the almost indiscernible smile at Johan’s praise that she did at least catch the gist of it. So, she was from Tibercon? That was interesting. The one place that neither he nor Tarik had any desire to visit. They were constantly refusing good commissions that would involve docking there.
Mikel wondered if the girl might have news of his mother. He smiled at her, what he hoped was charmingly, although it was rusty enough who knew, and asked, “What’s your name, child?”
“It’s Catarina,” she said. “And I am not a child.”
“I’m Mikel,” he said. “The first mate of the Quest.” He indicated the ship that was tethered to the slavers’ vessel. “And this is Tarik, who is the captain.”
Her eyes lit a little with interest. “Tarik the Terror?” she asked.
Tarik, who was nearby to oversee the transfer of goods onto the deck of the Quest, chuckled at this. “I am known only as Tarik now that I am a merchant,” he told her.
Mikel felt an unfamiliar sensation as she smiled at his captain. “Thank you for rescuing me,” she said, to Tarik. To Tarik! And it was Mikel who had her taken out of the chains and brought her from the hold. He had to smile at himself, recognizing that he was indignant, as if it even mattered what she thought!
Tarik swept her gratitude aside. “Mikel, show our guest on board,” he said. “And let her have your cabin. You can bunk with me.”
One of their crew members overheard this and protested. “But, captain, she’s an unmarried wench,” he said. “She can’t be let aboard!”
Mikel laughed at this. “You really believe that she’ll be bad luck?” he asked.
The man shuddered. “There’s a reason it’s been said.”
Tarik scowled at him. “What would you have me do? Throw her into the ocean?” he asked. He turned back to Mikel. “Hurry, lad, we have work to do.”
Mikel grinned and took Catarina over to the side of the ship. She looked worried at the sight of the grappling hooks and ropes securing the two ships together.
“Close your eyes,” Mikel said.
“What?”
Then he picked her up, threw her across his shoulder and lightly leapt up and across onto the deck of the Quest. Catarina squealed and narrowed her eyes at him when he set her on her feet.
“I’ll show you to your cabin,” he said, ignoring her displeasure. She followed him to his cabin and watched as he began emptying it of his belongings. She sat on his bunk and when he came back from taking a load over to Tarik’s cabin, she was curled up there, sleeping. He smiled. After quickly finishing removing things, he went down to the hold and found a chest of the dresses that they were planning on selling and picked out a couple for Catarina. He left them slung across the chair, which, along with a small desk and the wardrobe were the only other furniture in the small cabin beside the bunk.
It was an hour or so later that they scuttled the pirate vessel, since Tarik wouldn’t allow a slavers’ ship to continue to sail. Johan and Seb happily agreed to come back aboard the Quest. They pointed out the original pirates that had abducted Catarina, and Mikel dispatched them after returning from settling Catarina in. They threw the bodies overboard without ceremony. The rest of the pirate crew was lowered down in lifeboats, where they reluctantly took on their captain, who had been swimming this whole time and was cursing loudly.
The Quest sailed away as the pirate ship was sinking. A few members of Tarik’s crew, and all of Mr. Freyer’s men were starting to complain about Catarina being on board, predicting a dire future that Tarik laughed at.
“It would take a lot more than a slip of a lass to bring down my ship,” he said.
“Well, the last ship that she was on didn’t fare too well,” r
eplied one of the more vocal ones.
“Bite your tongue,” Seb said, as protective of Catarina now as if he’d never harbored similar misgivings. “She’s a quality lass, and she deserves protection.”
“As long as we don’t need protection from her,” was the parting shot of the dissenter.
*****
Tarik instructed Mikel to care for Catarina and so he brought her a meal that night. She had cleaned up and changed into one of the dresses that he had provided for her. It fit well enough, and he suddenly felt tongue tied. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He set the tray on the desk and turned to leave.
“Stay,” she said. “Please?”
He stood near the door as she sat at the desk. “I haven’t spoken to anyone in days,” she said. “And I would welcome your company, if you don’t mind.”
He nodded, stiffly, but he suspected that any request from her would be hard to refuse.
“You’re from Tibercon?” he asked.
“Gilden,” she said. “But my father was appointed an ambassador to Tibercon, so I’ve been there about three months now.”
Mikel knew that Gilden was one of the farthest outlying island kingdoms, but he didn’t know much more about it than that. He didn’t know whether he should refer at all to her captivity, so he didn’t. “That seems like a long time to negotiate a treaty,” he said.
“It’s more complicated than that. Gilden is currently negotiating the return of Tibercon’s lost heir.”
Mikel stopped breathing. It took a second to realize that this could have nothing to do with him, as he was completely unaware of any such thing. He swallowed. “Is that so? Prince Horatio?”
“Amazing, isn’t it?” And Catarina proceeded to tell Mikel what she knew regarding the returning heir.
“Definitely amazing,” said Mikel. “And this story has been verified?”
“Not completely,” Catarina said. “The royal family of Tibercon sent some questions back to Gilden, and Horatio sent the answers back, and they were all correct. I don’t think the king is absolutely convinced yet, but Arati is overjoyed. They sent a formal request to Gilden to have Horatio brought to them. I imagine he’ll be there in less than a month now. And then they can make a final decision. I had thought the whole thing to be a hoax at the beginning. Amnesia isn’t particularly believable. But, why would anyone make up a crazy story like that, and then agree to go to what will certainly be a death sentence if they’re discovered to be a fraud? It doesn’t make sense. I’m almost convinced. What do you think?”
Mikel thought that someone had a death wish if they were planning on impersonating him. His grandfather was unlikely to put up with such insolence, and had a well-deserved reputation for being harsh on any offenders. What if his grandfather and mother were fooled, though? Mikel couldn’t let an impostor take his place. Tibercon deserved better than that. He said to Catarina, “I think that if the young man hasn’t been a prince since he was twelve, he might find that being an heir to the throne is a much harder job than he remembers.”
“There is that. But, how wonderful if Arati got her nephew back. She misses him so!”
“You seem to know the princess well.”
“I’m honored to be her friend,” Catarina said. “She’s a wonderful person.”
“I’ve always thought so,” Mikel said.
At Catarina’s quick, curious glance, he elaborated.
“I spent my childhood in Tibercon,” he said. “And Princess Arati was always spoken highly of by everyone there.” He smiled, thinking of how much the villagers liked his mother. Her serene presence was in high contrast to the king’s manners.
“Have you been there lately?” Catarina asked.
He shook his head.
“I don’t know as you’d recognize it, then,” she said. “It’s deteriorated. Port Sinbad is overrun with an unsavory element, the kingdom is facing serious unrest as the Guard itself is about to revolt, and the king is in bad health. Arati is doing her best to attract a marriage settlement that would be advantageous, but I suspect that she’s being hindered in that pursuit. It would be a very good time for Horatio to miraculously return.”
“Perhaps he will,” Mikel said. “What about you?”
“I very much need to return.”
“Are you certain you want to go back to that?” Mikel asked, wryly.
“I must,” she said. “My family is there.”
Mikel nodded, but wondered how Tarik would react to the news that they would need to go to Tibercon. He was unlikely to be pleased and might not even agree. Which would mean that Mikel would have to find an alternative way to escort Catarina back to her family.
Mikel needed to return to Tibercon to deal with the impostor, and to work on improving the current state of affairs. When it had seemed that Tibercon was flourishing without him, he hadn’t felt guilty about ignoring his duty as a crown prince, but if his kingdom needed him, then there was no longer a choice. If Catarina’s calculations were correct, they would have enough time to deliver their current cargo to Rouland and find a ship heading to Tibercon, which shouldn’t present too much of a challenge, before the false Horatio became too much of a threat.
Mikel had been quiet for long enough considering this that his companion had grown sleepy.
Catarina daintily dabbed her lips with a napkin and laid it down on the now empty tray. “Thank you for the meal,” she said. “And the company.”
“My pleasure,” he said, smiling as she stifled a yawn. “Sleep well, Catarina.”
“And you, Mikel.”
He loved the way his name sounded when she said it, the faint exotic accent that lengthened the first vowel a little. But, that was silly. It was just a woman saying his name, and plenty of women had done so.
Chapter Twelve
The next day the biggest storm most of them had ever seen broke out of the clear sky and tossed the ship to and fro. They lashed down everything that they could, took the sails down, and prayed that they would ride it out safely. In the turmoil, the men started their complaining about Catarina again, insisting that she was the cause of the bad weather. They didn’t dare do anything about her, of course, since they feared the wrath of Tarik, but the assistants that had been brought on by Mr. Freyer didn’t care. They were convinced she was the cause.
Catarina was lying on her bunk, where she had been resting, but now was just trying to not be ill. Normally she never got seasick, but the ship was being tossed about mercilessly and she’d already found that standing was even more unpleasant. She was surprised, but not worried, when the door to her cabin was thrown open, thinking that maybe Mikel had come to check on her. But that was obviously not the case, judging by the serious look on the men’s faces who entered.
She made the effort to stand, and grasped a hold of the edge of the nearby desk to maintain her balance while she confronted them. “What is the meaning of this?” she asked, her voice raised to nearly a scream to be heard over the chaos.
They ignored her, and she clung tighter to the desk as they advanced purposefully towards her. But they were stronger than she was, and tore her away easily. Catarina fought as best she could, but with three big men grappling with her, she was soon defeated and slung over a shoulder, where she continued to rain blows upon her captor’s back, for all the good it did.
From her upside-down position, which was making her feel even more nauseated, she saw they were heading onto the deck, and wondered why anyone would do such a mad thing. The force of the wind made even the large man holding her stagger, and the rain beat on them, soaking her through within seconds. For a minute there, she worried that she would drown from the water choking her, but then she was flipped upright and held between two of the men. She saw that they were close to the starboard side gunwale, surrounded by a small mob of grim-faced men.
“What are you waiting for?” shouted a man in the mob. “Throw her over!”
Catarina was frozen in terror at this. The ocea
n, which normally didn’t look that hospitable, was the most dangerous she had ever beheld, with choppy waves crashing over the top of the ship. But now she could see why they had hesitated in their mad plan. Across the deck, a larger group of men were coming towards them. This group was led by Tarik and Mikel, who both had pistols leveled at Catarina’s captors. She could see the grim look on their faces even from where she stood, and she admired their steadiness as the ship swayed. Catarina shivered, and she saw Tarik lay a restraining hand on Mikel’s shoulder. He moved purposefully toward Catarina and shouted to be overheard.
“This is madness! You all go below before anyone gets swept away!”
“Not with her on board,” the spokesman yelled, one of the ones holding Catarina. “She’s bad luck, and this proves it.”
Catarina didn’t care about their stupid superstition, or anything else. She didn’t even care about dying at that point. She just wanted to stop feeling helpless. With a strength fueled by desperation, she broke free and ran towards the railing. The storm quieted for just a moment and they could all hear her scream. “I would rather die than be touched again by the likes of you!”
Mikel reached her just before she could throw herself overboard, and swept her up in his arms. She could feel he was trying to be gentle, but she didn’t care. She pounded on his chest, her tears mixing with the rain. “I want to be safe,” she screamed.
Mikel tightened his grip. “You will be, I swear it,” he said, speaking right against her ear to be heard. Catarina went limp against him, tired of fighting, and choosing to trust him.
*****
Tarik cursed the day that he had ever agreed to the extra terms of Mr. Freyer coming along. Although there were a few superstitious men in his own crew, they would never have thought of anything as asinine as this. As though this ill-treated child could possibly be the cause of a weather fluctuation! But, obviously, they were past the point of reason, and, with that being the case, he needed to come up with a way to appease them, and fast, or this unmarried wench’s blood would be on his hands. And he couldn’t have that. Unmarried… He looked at the protective hold that Mikel had Catarina in, and suddenly smiled. There was a way out of this, and the best part was, he could make sure that Mikel received the happy ending that he had never had.