Tales of Tibercon: The Princess and the Pirate

by Monica Hahn

  “I can be persuasive,” Tarik said, his teeth gleaming.

  Saras had his daughter summoned.

  The throne room was silent as they waited. Tarik could feel his heart pounding in a way it hadn’t in years. Although he knew he still appeared calm, he felt as giddy as a schoolboy. What if time had changed her? What if, over the years he had protected her memory, he had distorted it to such a fictional extent that he wouldn’t be able to recognize her even if she hadn’t changed at all, which obviously she would have? He had a moment’s regret over his crazy impulse, but then Arati stepped through the door and the years melted away.

  She was just as lovely as she had been then, although she had aged. The added maturity just gave her an aura of wisdom. She was still slender, and her face had just a few additional lines. He saw the moment that she registered that there was a visitor and changed her concerned look to one of pleasant welcome. And then he saw the moment that she recognized him and stopped in shock, swaying suddenly with a hand to her chest.

  He didn’t consciously tell his body to move, but he was suddenly at her side. He offered a hand as a formal greeting but held on to hers bracingly when she hesitantly put hers in his.

  “Arati, this man wants to marry you,” King Saras announced, without any preamble. “And he has my permission, for all that matters to you. I suggest you at least hear him out.”

  Arati was staring at Tarik, still in shock, but the quick flutter of her lashes indicated that she had heard the king’s explanation.

  Tarik didn’t bother waiting for the king’s dismissal, but whisked Arati out of the throne room and into one of the side anterooms. There he released her completely and took a step back. “Well, Arati?”

  She stared at him and her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe it,” she said. “You came back!” She held out her hands and moved forward then caught herself. “Why did you leave me?” she asked.

  He took a deep breath, not wanting to reveal her father to be the utter villain that he was, but not sure how else to explain it. She read the expression on his face, which for once was an open book.

  “He forced your hand,” she said. “I knew it.” She sounded bitter.

  “Ancient history,” he said, taking a small step forward and giving her a winning smile that was a little rusty from disuse. “But will you marry me, my one and only love?”

  She caught him in a fierce embrace. “Yes, oh yes,” she said, pressing wild kisses over his face. Then she drew back. “But, my father! Obviously he didn’t recognize you, but he must never know.”

  “I don’t know as he’d care, at this point,” Tarik said. “My past as a pirate is what your father is banking on.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I’ve promised to clean up Tibercon and make it safe again.”

  Her eyes shone. “Could you really do that?”

  “I haven’t been called Tarik the Terror for no reason,” he said, striking a pose for her. Then he sobered and took her hands again in a comforting clasp. “I can really do it.”

  “That would be wonderful,” she said. “We’ve all lost too much to this plague of lawlessness.”

  “Your nephew?” Tarik asked gently.

  She looked startled. “That was a long time ago,” she said. “When Tibercon wasn’t dangerous. I always thought he ran away, and I pray every day that he’s safe. I was speaking of a good friend of mine that was abducted in the marketplace not too long ago. It angers me that she wasn’t secure in my kingdom. No one is anymore, since the Guard is proving useless. You may be getting a bad bargain out of this marriage.”

  “Never!” he said, kissing her.

  A while later, she looked at him adoringly. “We should probably inform the king of my decision,” she said.

  “If we must,” he said. “But what if I let you go and then find out that none of this is real?”

  “It doesn’t seem a chance worth taking,” she said, clinging to him.

  They eventually went back into the throne room to inform the king that his daughter was finally willing to be married to please him. King Saras was mildly surprised by the news, but not suspicious.

  “About the accusations you made against my Minister of Defense,” King Saras said to Tarik. “I’d like you to prove it, and I’ve requested Zanth be here to defend himself.”

  The doors opened then, and Minister Zanth strutted in, several guards following him. He bowed to the king, and then noticed that Tarik was standing there with Arati. He bowed to Arati and considered Tarik appraisingly.

  “Zanth, my future son-in-law has something to say to you,” the king said.

  Zanth looked stunned, although Tarik wasn’t sure if it was because he registered that Arati was engaged, or because he had recognized Tarik from their first encounter. “What would a stranger have to say to me?” Zanth asked.

  “Earlier I was explaining to his Royal Highness about a conversation that I heard at The Roost today,” Tarik said. “The one where you openly admitted to planning a coup and being willing to blackmail the princess.”

  Zanth stared at Tarik, and then glanced at the king, who was watching him dispassionately.

  King Saras spoke. “You stand accused of treason, my Minister of Defense. How do you plead?”

  “I never plead,” Zanth said, drawing his sword. “Now, men!”

  Tarik swept Arati behind him and drew his pistol. He fired it point blank at Zanth, who went down. Tarik quickly handed the pistol to Arati, and drew both his sword and a dagger. There was some confusion among the seven guards, but they advanced on Tarik. He didn’t hesitate, but moved in speedily to confront them, taking advantage of their unease at losing their leader to kill one and severely wound two others in the confusion. Arati realized that the pistol was useless since it needed reloading and moved to pick up Zanth’s sword. Zanth groaned at her feet, and she ran him through, then turned to face the remaining guards.

  At this point, they retreated slightly and banded together. King Saras stood. “Cease this at once!” he thundered. Everyone looked at him. “Minister Zanth was obviously a traitor,” he said, at an only slightly lower volume. “Unless you men wish to be branded as such with him and suffer the same fate, drop your weapons immediately.” The king tugged at a silk bell pull beside his throne. “Otherwise, my private guardians will cut you down.”

  Tarik wondered briefly if the guardians coming in would side with the king or the remaining guards, but there was no trace of anxiety on the king’s face. Apparently, the guards wondered the same thing, judging from their indecisiveness, but they seemed to reach a decision as the door burst open and several guardians rushed in. Weapons clattered to the floor from the guards. The leader of the king’s guardians looked first at the impossible scene: the old king standing there, as calm as if at a ball, the princess standing by the side of a blood-splattered stranger, both of them with swords, the dead bodies on the floor, along with the groaning wounded, and the shame-faced guards standing there with their arms now up. The leader looked to the king for instruction.

  “Detain these men,” the king said. “Treat the wounded, bury the dead.”

  The room was quickly cleared of all but Saras, Arati, and Tarik.

  Arati finally dropped Zanth’s sword and then swayed a bit. Tarik, who had re-sheathed his weapons as soon as the last guard had exited, put a steadying arm around her waist. “Steady there, love,” he said.

  “I believe it was a bit too much excitement for her,” Saras said, and Tarik was amazed to hear the admiration in his voice, although he felt it was well-deserved. “Arati, you’d better go lie down.”

  Arati took a deep breath and shook her head. “I’m fine, Father.” Then she made a small retching sound and ran out of the room.

  “You acquitted yourself well,” Saras told Tarik, with no mention of Arati’s exit.

  “I’m curious,” Tarik said, moving towards the king. “At what point did you think it was justified to put your daugh
ter’s life at risk with that stunt?”

  Saras held out a mollifying hand. “I misjudged Zanth,” he admitted. “I thought that a confrontation would get him to admit his treachery, but I assumed that if he decided to use this opportunity to start his coup, it would take a bit longer than it did.”

  “Ah,” Tarik said. “Which is why your guardians were ready, but not present.”

  “Exactly. I needed him to feel safe enough to commit treason if that was his intention, but I thought that I would have enough time to protect my daughter.”

  “Apparently she can take care of herself,” Tarik said.

  “She’s become very capable,” Saras said, in a rare display of fatherly pride. “I hadn’t realized she had paid so much attention to Horatio’s fencing lessons.”

  “I would be happy to drink to that,” Tarik said.

  For the first time in their acquaintance, Saras smiled. “Come with me,” he said. He took Tarik to his cabinet room, where he had a bottle of brandy brought to them and there they toasted to their first victory in a unique moment of charity with each other.

  *****

  Later Tarik sought out Arati, who was feeling better, and they stood together on one of the castle balconies looking out over Port Sinbad.

  “Was there really no one else?” Arati asked, after they had discussed the day’s developments, and could move on to the more important matter of their relationship.

  “No one,” Tarik said, firmly.

  She smiled. “I’ve heard about you sailors and the women in every port,” she said.

  “You can meet my crew tomorrow,” he said, “and they will swear that I was true.”

  “I believe you,” she said.

  “And am I the only man you’ve ever loved?” he asked.

  Arati thought of the son that she prayed for every night and just kissed Tarik for an answer. She couldn’t tell him about Mikel, not now, not when they had finally found each other again. Maybe later she could tell him about their son that she had lost, and she and Tarik could search for him, but right now she didn’t want to mar this beautiful moment. She hadn’t had very many opportunities in her life to be perfectly happy.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The next day Arati was escorted down to the docks by a small squad of guardians, although Port Sinbad seemed quiet. Tarik was waiting for her and helped her board the Quest. The guardians stayed on the dock.

  Tarik embraced her as soon as they were both on board.

  “It’s not a dream,” Arati said, snuggling happily against his chest.

  “It still feels like one,” Tarik said, a bit gruffly.

  He drew back and cleared his throat. “The vessel is ready for your inspection, Your Highness.”

  She straightened her already perfect posture to one that was positively regal and examined the ship from where she was standing. “It almost looks like one of those pirate vessels one hears so much about,” she said, innocently.

  His lips twitched. “It’s very similar,” he said, gravely. He tucked her hand into his arm and urged her forward. “Come meet my fearsome crew,” he said. “I’ve never had them presented before, so forgive their improper form.”

  His whole crew was gathered around the deck, in an almost military formation to greet the princess that was to marry their captain, as Tarik had explained to them that morning. Not since the morning Mikel had explained to the crew how to treat his wife had breakfast been so exciting.

  Tarik began introducing his crew members to Arati, starting from the cabin boys up through the ranks until she knew that she’d never remember them all. His first mate was the last one to be introduced. “And this is my first mate, Mikel,” Tarik said, his voice deepening with affection. “A better man you’ll never find and someone as dear to me as my own son would be.”

  Arati took the calloused hand extended to her and with a polite smile and a pretty phrase ready, she looked up to see her son. All grown up, but definitely her son. She fainted. Mikel caught her.

  Arati came to in the captain’s quarters, lying on a simple bunk made up with quality linens. She blinked as she saw two dark heads leaning anxiously over her. It struck her how similar they were, and she laughed, albeit a little hysterically.

  “Arati,” Tarik said, looking very concerned. “Are you well?”

  Then she started to cry.

  “She didn’t hit her head or anything did she?” Tarik asked Mikel.

  “No,” Mikel said. “I imagine she just had a bit of a shock.”

  “Why’s that?” Tarik asked, looking sharply at Mikel.

  “Do you know about the missing crown prince of Tibercon?”

  Tarik closed his eyes for a minute and then opened them with an accusing look at Mikel. “I imagine that’s you, then?”

  Mikel shrugged. “Yes.”

  Tarik glared at him. “And you let your aunt find out like this?”

  “It’s not as though you gave any of us much notice that she was coming,” Mikel said. “And, I hadn’t really come up with a better plan, so I figured this would work. How did you end up engaged to my mother, anyway?”

  “We knew each other a long time ago. But, what do you mean your mother? I thought she was your aunt?” Tarik was definitely confused, something that didn’t happen very often. Mikel would have enjoyed it more if he wasn’t feeling the same way.

  Arati had stopped crying and now she let out a watery sniff. “I am his mother,” she said.

  Tarik stared at her. “What? How did that happen?”

  “I’m a little curious myself,” Mikel said, nudging Arati over so that he could sit on the bed beside her. Ever since he’d overheard the truth about his parentage, he’d been wanting to ask her about his father.

  Tarik knelt in front of Arati and held her hands. “Tell us the story, love,” he said.

  She took a deep breath. “When I was about your age now,” she said, glancing at Mikel, “I used to sneak out of the castle sometimes. On one of those excursions I got into a bit of trouble and was rescued by a pirate. We fell in love and were going to run away together and get married, but it didn’t happen. Instead I ended up alone and pregnant. My father had planned for me to marry someone else, but of course the pregnancy created difficulties with that and the engagement fell through.” It was a highly censored tale, although an accurate version, but she managed to shock both of them.

  “I had my baby at the same time that my brother’s wife had theirs,” Arati continued. “Their entire family perished in a fire. Because my father wanted an heir so badly, he took my baby and passed it off as my brother’s. Which meant that my son grew up believing that I was his aunt. And he never knew his father. At least,” she put a hand on each of their shoulders, “knew him as his father.”

  Tarik and Mikel looked at each other with matching expressions of amazement.

  Arati laughed. “When you said that Mikel was as dear to you as your own son, it was a shock to see that he was, in fact, your son.”

  The three hugged and laughed and cried and eventually talked about the future.

  “I want you to take your place as heir to the throne,” Arati told Mikel. “I always thought you would make a wonderful king.”

  “But I can’t immediately,” Mikel said. “I don’t want to get in the way of your wedding. After all,” he said, his tone slightly condemning. “It would be nice if my parents were married!”

  “Mikel wants everyone to be married now that he is,” Tarik said, teasingly.

  “Mikel, you’re married?” Arati asked.

  “She’s a lovely girl,” Tarik said. “You’ll like her.” He looked at Mikel. “And why isn’t your wife here now?”

  “She left early,” Mikel said. “Before your surprise announcement. And I was afraid if I went to look for her, that I would miss this. She wanted to rendezvous with a former bodyguard of hers.”

  “She’s not alone, is she?” Arati asked, concerned.

  “Oh, no,” Mikel said. “She’s wel
l protected.”

  “Ah,” Tarik said. “I was wondering where Seb and Johan were!”

  *****

  Just then there was a small commotion that signaled Catarina’s arrival. Mikel’s heart leapt slightly at the sound of her soft laugh, followed by his favorite question.

  “And where is my husband?”

  “Captain’s quarters, my lady,” was the reply, and then, “But there’s a visitor…”

  Catarina was too quick to be told the rest and the patter of her light footsteps on the stairs was shortly followed by a knock on Tarik’s door. Mikel pulled open the door and Catarina rushed into his arms, chattering about her excursion. He knew better than to try and interrupt her with conventional methods, so he gently framed her face with his hands and kissed her. That quieted her down, and when he drew back, she looked up at him with adoring eyes and a satisfied smile. It was then that she noticed Arati, who had watched this whole byplay with amazement.

  Catarina curtsied, and then ran into Arati’s open arms. They clung to each other. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” Arati said. “How in the world did you end up married to Mikel?”

  Catarina smiled through her tears. “I was abducted and taken aboard an awful ship that attacked the Quest, and of course Tarik defeated them and Mikel found me and I thought I was safe, but then there was a storm and some evil men wanted to throw me overboard, but Mikel stopped them, and Tarik married me to Mikel to keep me safe, because I thought it was a fake marriage, even though it wasn’t, and when my father found out, he disowned me, which is lovely, because, as you know, I never wanted to marry Stefan anyway, so now I’m Mikel’s wife and I’ve never been so happy.” She squeezed Arati tightly, out of breath after her long run-on sentence.

  Arati laughed. “Well, you have had quite the adventure!” she said. “I’ve always thought that having a daughter-in-law like you would be wonderful. Exhausting, but wonderful.”

  Catarina smiled at her and broke their embrace to hold out a hand to Mikel, who took it with an infatuated look that made his mother cough to hide her grin. “Wait!” Catarina said, finally registering what Arati had said. “Don’t you mean a niece?”