Daughter of the Pirate King

by Tricia Levenseller

I sigh and look heavenward before turning around.

  “Hello, Riden.”

  “Been waiting for you to come up. You don’t disappoint.” Riden steps out of the shadows cast by the stairs leading up to the second level. Ah, no wonder I didn’t see him.

  “You knew I would try to escape again?”

  “There are only three pirates left on this vessel, assuming you left Enwen and Belor alive. We’re close to land. And I couldn’t find whatever it was you used to escape your cell last time. So, yes. I assumed you would try to escape again.”

  “So you’re no longer convinced I’m up to more nefarious deeds?”

  “I would have continued to have my doubts had you not gone straight for the edge of the ship.”

  Thank the stars I went there first. Who knows what would have happened if Riden had seen me searching the ship?

  “Now, Riden. There’s no reason why you can’t let me go. You can tell your dear captain I got away due to your own stupidity. Shouldn’t be too hard for him to believe.”

  “I’m afraid not, Alosa.”

  “Please don’t put me back in that cell. I hate it down there. The smell is awful.”

  “Perhaps we should find you different accommodations, then.”

  I don’t like the sound of this. “How do you mean?”

  “Here, allow me to escort you, princess.” He picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.

  “What do you think you’re doing? Put me down right now!” I push myself up and get a hold of his head. His hair is tied back as usual, nice and long.

  Perfect for pulling.

  “Ow!”

  He gets a door open. I’m too focused on him to realize where we are, but a moment later he throws me onto a bed. Then he grabs my wrist in a death grip, forcing me to release my hold on his hair.

  I don’t know why, but it’s very difficult to play the beaten prisoner. I can’t stand giving up too easily, no matter how many times I remind myself to make my stay on this ship look unintentional.

  Which is why I don’t lie passively on the bed. Riden stands over me, his hand still holding my wrist captive. My knee connects with his stomach, which causes him to hunch down farther. I grab his other wrist with my own and pull him over the top of me before shoving him down onto the bed. I roll off and stand so I have the higher ground.

  But he shoots up a moment later. I don’t expect him to recover so quickly, so he’s able to grab my waist and pin me to the bed. The last position I would ever want to be in.

  “You’re stronger than you should be,” he says.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Just that you’re not a large woman, yet you were able to lift me off the ground.”

  And those words are the only reason why I don’t shove his sorry arse off me. I have to remember to hold back. But it’s so damn hard! When this is over, I’m going to kill him out of spite.

  “I have my father’s rigorous heavy lifting training to thank for that.”

  “No doubt.”

  “Get off me.”

  He looks down at me, trailing his gaze from my eyes to my mouth. So very slowly. “Are you sure you want that?”

  “I’m quite sure,” I say, but the words don’t come out as forcefully as I intend them to.

  He leans down farther, placing his nose next to mine. “How about now?” he whispers.

  He’s too cocky for his own good, but I admit he’s pretty. And he makes my blood boil, but mostly out of anger. He’s a decent sort of fellow inside. But he chooses not to be on the outside. What does that make him?

  I’m about to tell him to shove off, but then I feel his lips at my cheek. He’s not kissing me exactly, just touching my cheek with his lips. They drift downward to my jawline.

  I have to make a serious effort to keep my breathing calm. Even. Not at all excited. Now is not the time to get all tingly. I have a job to do.

  But his lips. I can picture them perfectly when I close my eyes. They’re a dark pink. Full and unmarred. And right now they’re being impossibly soft for a pirate.

  When he does finally kiss me, it’s right below my ear in that sensitive spot.

  Then he moves lower, trailing his lips down my neck at the side, then back up in the middle. He kisses the corner of my chin and then hovers expectantly over my mouth.

  He wants me to kiss him, for me to be the one to actually lean forward and do something.

  Of course he does. Men like Riden live off the thrill of victory.

  Unfortunately for him, I do, too.

  He’s loosened his hold, so it’s effortless for me to flip him over and hover above him. His hands grip my upper arms tightly. He’s worried I mean to strike him or choke him in some way. I probably should.

  Instead I move my lips to his ear. My teeth graze his ear lobe, and his hands tighten in a different way. They move to my back, pressing there and trying to get me closer.

  When I move to his neck, his hands reach for my hair, gliding through the strands.

  “You are so beautiful,” he says. “Like a goddess born out of the sea.”

  That is what finally snaps me out of it, his obviously exaggerated exclamation. He wants answers from me. He’ll say and do anything to get them. I’m just some pretty face to him. And that is all he is to me. I don’t have time for meaningless fun. I have a part to play. This will only make my job more difficult. Besides, how can I forget how I found Riden when I peered through the window of the tavern? He told me himself that he’s spent months at sea, and I interrupted his one night on land. Now he expects me to make up for it.

  Stupid pirate. I do not get swayed by men looking to add to their list of female conquests. I’d imagine I’d be a fine one, being the daughter of the most notorious pirate of all time.

  I stand and move away from the bed. “I want to go to my cell now.”

  Riden looks confused for a moment. He shakes himself out of it. “You’re not staying in your cell anymore. Your continued attempts at escape leave me no choice but to move you.”

  “To where?”

  “My room.” And with that, he leaves, shutting the doors behind him. I hear the wiggling of a key and the click of a lock.

  I note that he’s still on the other side of the doors. I can see his silhouette from the space underneath. I press my cheek against the door, hold my breath, and wait.

  He sighs. “What are you doing?” He’s talking to himself.

  Then he’s gone.

  Interesting.

  I turn to survey the room. I hadn’t had a chance to earlier because—well, my mind was on other things. But now I wish I could have gotten a look at it sooner. If for no other reason than I could have been using it to mock Riden.

  Because the room is clean. Spotlessly clean. Now, as I look at the bed, I can tell it had been made. His desk is neatly arranged with an even stack of parchment. Quills lie next to it, spread apart at even intervals. He has a case of books, and—yes, they’re in alphabetical order. The rugs on the floor are free of dust and dirt, likely beaten regularly. His boots are all polished and stacked by twos. His clothes lie flat so as not to gain any wrinkles.

  It would be difficult indeed to toss this room without Riden noticing. But toss it, I must. It’s clear Draxen trusts Riden more than he does anyone else, so why not give the map to Riden for safekeeping? If the map wasn’t in Draxen’s room, then Riden’s room would be the next choice. Since I know how light of a sleeper Riden is, it’s been difficult to find an opportunity to search his room at night. But now I can make the most of being stuck in here. Short of breaking the door down, I don’t have a way to get out of here. I put my lockpicks back in the table leg after incapacitating Enwen and Belor.

  I get to work, opening drawers and checking pockets. It’s difficult to tell what I’ve already searched through because I have to put everything neatly back in its place as soon as I’m done. I try to start at one point in the room and move in a circle.

  More than an hour
must pass, and I’ve found nothing.

  Where did you hide it, Jeskor? Who did you give it to if neither of your sons has it?

  It simply must be somewhere else on the ship.

  Why should I have thought that Riden had it at all? He’s certainly portrayed himself as the least favorite of Lord Jeskor’s sons. Not sure I can say which is my least favorite of Jeskor’s sons at the moment.

  Riden’s a bloody half-wit. Locking me in here, trying to toy with me, using me to kill a pirate he couldn’t kill himself. Sometimes I think him a coward. But not a coward by fear. A coward by choice. Which is worse?

  I’d purposely kept my mind focused on the search, but now that it’s over, my mind is free to wander. And it shifts straight to what I’d been doing with Riden an hour ago.

  Sometimes I’m an idiot. I clench my hand into a fist before giving the table a good slam.

  I feel the pressure in my hand, then hear the rumble of the desk and the shattering of glass.

  Stars!

  Among maps, compasses, and other navigational tools, Riden has an hourglass on the table.

  Had an hourglass on the table.

  Now it’s broken at my feet.

  I hope that didn’t have any sentimental value.

  Actually, no. I hope it did have sentimental value. Lots and lots. Serves him right. In fact, why stop with his hourglass?

  Riden wants to keep me locked up in his room. Well, he’d better be prepared to deal with the consequences. I rearrange his boots so each left foot goes with the wrong right one. I throw his clothing onto the floor in heaps. That’s not good enough, though. I can’t help but jump up and down on them. I hope there’s plenty of grime on the bottom of my boots.

  I rearrange his bookcase. I crumple his papers. I knock everything over that stands upright.

  I’m going to be the biggest pain in the arse Riden has ever dealt with. That’ll serve him right.

  When the door opens a while later, I’m sitting at Riden’s desk, drawing pictures of sea creatures all over his maps, using a quill dipped in ink.

  “What the bloody hell!”

  “I got bored,” I say, not bothering to look at him.

  “What did you do?”

  “Well, I made you something. Look here. I gave this squid your face.”

  There is silence, and then, “Alosa, I’m going to kill you.”

  “It’ll be awfully hard to collect a ransom from my father if I’m dead.”

  “Are you sure the man doesn’t want to be rid of you? We haven’t heard from him yet. I’m beginning to think we did him a huge favor. His loss was our bloody demise.”

  I set the quill down and look up. “I’m out of parchment. Is there any more on the ship?”

  Riden clenches his fists. I think his eyes might pop out at any moment. His face is as red as a crab.

  “You don’t look well,” I note.

  “I’ll have you know it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to pummel you right now.”

  “Can’t imagine what it takes to break you, then. Tell me, Riden, does your skin itch to see your room so filthy?”

  “I’m going to bed. In the morning, you’re going to wish you hadn’t done this.”

  “Mmm. I’d be careful in the bed. I think I saw some glass shards in there earlier. You really should watch what you do in there.”

  Riden rips off the sheets and shakes out his blankets. Glass does indeed fall to the floor. He takes the time to sweep it all up before dumping it over the side of the ship. At least I assume that’s what he does. Can’t be sure, since I’m confined to the room while he leaves.

  When he gets back, I ask, “Where will I be sleeping?”

  For the first time in a while, he grins. “I’ll be sleeping in my bed. Feel free to join me, but something tells me you’d prefer the floor. ’Tis a shame there’s not much room for you now that it’s covered with all my things.”

  Riden locks the door on the inside. Then he pockets the key. He removes his boots and his shirt before climbing into bed.

  “You’re seriously going to sleep while I’m in here alone with you? Aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you?”

  “I’ve already made sure there are no weapons in this room. Besides, I’m a very light sleeper. You won’t be able to take one step without waking me.”

  “Is that so?” I ask cheerily.

  Riden’s face falls at my tone. He knows it can’t be good.

  This night is already one of the best I’ve had in a while. First I destroyed Riden’s room and saw him blow up over it. Now I get to drive him mad when he tries to sleep.

  His eyes droop closed. I wait a few minutes. Then I stomp on the floor. Riden’s eyes shoot open. He sits up, ascertains I’m not up to anything. Then he falls back asleep.

  I repeat this process three more times, when Riden finally gets out of bed. He strides right up to me and gets in my face. “Do that again, and I will knock you unconscious.”

  I stop my knocking and instead start humming.

  It doesn’t seem to bother Riden, though. His eyes stay closed. If anything, he looks like he huddles down farther in his bed. My humming turns to singing. I’m not really saying any words, just testing out different notes. It’s a random tune that comes to me.

  In moments Riden snores softly.

  I’d hoped that by keeping him up later, he would sleep more deeply.

  I take a hesitant step forward. Riden doesn’t budge. At the bed, I put my hands in his pockets, trying to find the key. Still he doesn’t stir. I find it quickly. Then I’m at the doors, stepping outside, closing them behind me.

  Tonight is the first night I can scour the ship uninterrupted. All the men are ashore, save three. And I’ve rendered those unconscious. I abandon my orderly search in favor of tearing through the deck. Normally there are lookouts wandering about, and tonight might be my only chance to get free rein of the deck. I search deep into the night until I hear splashing water and laughing men. Some have returned to finally sleep off their celebrating.

  Though my eyes strain with the effort it takes to keep them open, I’m disappointed I won’t find the map tonight.

  I’m getting close, though. And that’s enough for now.

  Chapter 9

  I TRY TO SLEEP on the floor when I return, I really do. But after so many nights spent on the cold, wooden floor of my cell, Riden’s bed is too inviting. Even with him in it.

  Besides, he’s asleep. He stayed out of it the entire time I searched the deck. He won’t wake if I just sidle up there on the end.

  I barely fit in the space. I can feel the heat pouring into me from Riden’s back. He’s awfully warm. I don’t think he needs that blanket.

  So I snatch it and return the key to his breeches before drifting off.

  * * *

  My first thought when I wake is that I’m so warm. I’m wrapped in it, like I’ve been trapped inside a large, heated cocoon. It feels so good, I lie there with my eyes closed. I don’t care where I am or what I’m doing. This is too pleasant to ruin by doing something as rigorous as moving.

  I feel lips on my forehead. Now someone’s nuzzling my neck.

  “You stole my blanket, Alosa,” a voice whispers in my ear.

  I should know that voice, but I’m still addled by sleep.

  “That’s all right. I don’t mind sharing. You kept me plenty warm last night.”

  “Mmm” is all I say in response.

  “This is fun, but we have to get up. You’ve got work to do today.”

  “Stop talking.”

  He laughs softly. A hand brushes my hair back from my face. “I love this hair. Fiery red. Just like your spirit.”

  My eyes snap open at last. Riden’s rolled halfway onto me, his head propped up in his left hand. His right one is still playing with my hair.

  I roll off the bed and land hard on the floor. “Ow.” I’m standing a moment later. “What are you doing?”

  “Well, I was sleeping in my bed. Don�
�t know what you were doing. However did you manage to climb into the bed without waking me?”

  “Must’ve walked in my sleep.”

  “I’m sure.”

  I rub at my eyes and straighten my clothes.

  “No need for that,” he says. “I’m sure no one will get the wrong impression when you walk out of here.”

  “Indeed,” I say, clenching my teeth. But as I look around the room, my mood brightens. “Should we show them what I’ve done with the place?”

  Riden sits up, winces. “About that. I’ve decided we’ve been wasting your potential, what with the way we’ve been keeping you locked up in that cell all the time. You’ve got too much energy for escaping and wreaking havoc in my room. I think it’s time we put your skills to use.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You’ll see. I’ll be back in a moment.” He dons a shirt and boots before leaving. A cold burst of air enters the room as the door opens. That’s enough to wake me all the way.

  I do some stretches, pull my boots back on, and try not to be discouraged by the fact that the map still hasn’t turned up. I’ve yet to check the aftercastle and the crow’s nest. Then there are still plenty of places belowdecks that need searching. I don’t think Draxen would hide it where his crew could stumble onto it—but as I remember the hidden panels in the smuggling ship, I have to acknowledge that there could be plenty of good hiding places belowdecks.

  Riden interrupts my thoughts by coming back into the room only a few moments later. He doesn’t return empty-handed. He has a set of manacles in his hand.

  “You’re going to clap me in irons, is that it?” I ask. “What for?”

  “Numerous escape attempts, causing bodily injury to the first mate as well as several members of the crew, the death of a pirate—and for your own humiliation.”

  “That reminds me, I wonder how interested Draxen would be to hear that you let me kill a member of his crew.”

  “Lass, do you honestly think he’d believe you over me?”

  “That depends on how much of a coward Draxen already suspects you really are.”

  Riden’s face hardens. “That’s enough of that.” He clamps on the manacles. I can tell he enjoys it far too much. He’s right: The humiliation of it all will be awful. I do not want to go out there and face the rest of the crew.