Chapter One
“I must apologize for the inconvenience, gentlemen, but I promise you will be back on your way soon.”
Esmeralda’s smile did not falter as she spoke, looking out across the deck. Several members of the crew were tied together, but it was the central two figures that caught her eye. A lady, dressed in the latest fashion, not that Esmeralda ever ventured near enough to land to know, and a man, purple in the face with anger. They were tied back to back. The gentle movement of the waves rocked the ship back and forth.
“It is more than a damned inconvenience!” the gentleman roared, struggling against his bonds. “Pirates! I will have the government on you, and your captain!”
Esmeralda’s smile became a frown. “I am the captain, sir, and though I have no doubt you will attempt to set whatever authorities you please on me and my ship, we will be long gone.”
She turned, her coat flapping in the wind. Her captain’s hat shaded her eyes from the blistering sun, and her sword was a comfortable weight on her hip. It had all gone precisely to plan. When her quartermaster had spotted the ship on the horizon, she had known it would be rich, but this? She could never have predicted it.
“You blaggards! You heathens! You—”
“Colin! Be quiet!”
Esmeralda turned to see the lady, pink in the cheeks, and attempting to ignore the gazes of the pirate crew, hushing the cursing gentleman.
“Listen to your pretty wife,” Esmeralda said quietly. “She understands better than you exactly what is going on. Ah, Shepherd.”
Three of her men had stepped up from the hold, each of them carrying wooden boxes. She was intrigued to see her quartermaster holding one that wouldn’t close.
“Gold, jewels, and a little paper money,” Shepherd stated blandly. They started to pass the boxes along the boardwalks, onto the Periculum, her ship.
“My word,” the captain said with a sweet smile. “I had no idea you were so wealthy.”
“We are on our honeymoon!” Colin spluttered.
“Just think what an exciting adventure you will have to tell everyone,” Esmeralda said smoothly.
The bound gentleman stared at Esmeralda’s crew, waiting for her next order. It was clear he could not comprehend what was happening.
“This is eighteen fourteen!” he said wide-eyed. “Pirates do not sail the seas anymore. The British changed all that! You simply do not exist!”
Esmeralda could not help but laugh as she looked around her crew. “You hear that, boys? We do not exist!”
Tom, a young lad only a few months on the Periculum, shook his head. “Sorry, guv, but if we don’t, you’re having a pretty terrible nightmare!”
That gained a few more laughs from the crew, and Colin went, if possible, an even darker shade of purple. “A woman! A woman in charge, God’s teeth, I would never have believed it if I had not seen it with my own eyes. And you follow her, you fools, you–—”
He blinked. Esmeralda had not run. She had simply appeared, a knife in her hand now gently pressed against his throat.
“If we don’t exist,” she whispered, staring into his eyes, “and it would be ridiculous that any men would follow a lady, then you cannot complain about us to any of your pretty little government people. Can you?”
She held his gaze just a fraction longer than was comfortable.
“We should be going,” said Andrews, her second mate.
Esmeralda straightened up, not removing the knife from the bound gentleman’s neck, and felt the wind on her face. It had changed direction.
Walking away from their captives, Esmeralda gestured to return to the Periculum. When she was the last on the captured ship, she turned to smile at its inhabitants.
“Good day, gentlemen, lady.”
“You’re not going to untie us?” It was one of the ship’s crew that bleated the question, clearly concerned he would be punished for merely asking the question.
Esmeralda took them all in. Thirty crew or so, give or take a few lads, and four passengers. The newly wedded couple had been the most vocal and were in the center of the deck.
“Ben,” she said quietly, and one of the lads nearest her on the boardwalk looked around obediently. “Give me your second-best knife.”
He threw it swiftly, and she caught it before tossing it onto the deck.
“I always give people a fighting chance,” she said before turning her back.
She was still smiling as she jumped down onto the Periculum. Home. The boards under her feet were more reassuring than any amount of dry land.
“Sails up, sails out,” she ordered, and five of the crew immediately hurried away to the mast. “Cook, dinner at six bells. Andrews, I want a full inventory of the booty for my review tomorrow morning. The rest of you go and be useful.”
The men nodded and dispersed across the deck until it was only herself and Cook standing there.
She tried not to show her relief. Her orders were still obeyed, always a good sign. It had been hard on the Periculum crew, being captained by a woman, but the last three years had proved she had it in her. She depended on their loyalty, like any captain, but perhaps more so than others. She knew what happened when mutiny broke a crew apart.
“Congratulations on another excellent raid,” said Cook quietly, stepping toward her.
Esmeralda smiled up at the tall man, hair grey now rather than dark as it had been when she was young. “It doesn’t hurt to be a le Brecque, I suppose. Born and raised on the ocean, I have never taken a step on dry land, and I do not intend to. The ocean gives me more than enough, and if we have more days like today…”
“You worry about them.” He did not need to explain further.
Esmeralda ensured they were alone and nodded. “Losing the respect of your crew is a sure way to send you all down to Davy Jones’ locker. I have to keep impressing them. Some of them are growing…restless.”
Cook nodded, his old gnarled hands gripping the handrail. “Well, as the oldest member of your crew and the oldest one of us, I had noticed, but this raid will buoy you. You have never failed them.”
Esmeralda tried to smile but could not manage it. Her bones ached from the chase of the hunt, and all she wanted was to sit down. “Have a bottle of the 1782 sent to my cabin, will you?”
She did not wait for Cook’s agreement, for he had been with her as long as she could remember, before she took the Periculum. By the time she had shed her coat and hat in her quarters and opened the door to the captain’s cabin, a glass and open bottle of red wine were on her desk.
Closing the door, she leaned against it and sighed. Only here could she be herself. It was exhausting, always being the captain and never being Esmeralda, something she had not quite appreciated when she had rebelled against her father. And leaving Poseidon’s League was quite the rebellion.
True, she probably should not have stolen the Periculum…
She walked to the window at the back of her cabin and looked down at the charts, a candle holding down one corner. Picking up a pencil, she made a few adjustments to their current position, looked out of the window, and bit her lip. She knew a westerly wind when she felt one. There would be a storm tonight.
The door opened, and Esmeralda turned to see her quartermaster in the doorway.
“Orders,” he barked.
It was all she could do not to bark back. Shouldn’t he know by now how this ship operated?
“We head for Southampton,” she said instead. “Storm is coming, and I need to deposit some of our takings.”
Shepherd scowled. “I do not like Southampton. Too many officials, too many questions.”
“We need fresh water, supplies, and to sell some of this jewelry,” she said. “I did not ask for your opinion, you asked for orders. I have given them to you. We sail to Southampton.”
She knew Shepherd well enough to see the argument start in his throat, but he swallowed it down and nodded. Esmeralda kept her glare focused on him as he left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Only then did she lean against the window and sigh. He was her best man on the Periculum, one that the entire crew listened to, but that did not mean she had to like him. She had to keep a careful eye on him. If he could challenge her in private, it would not be long before he challenged her in public.
Another few minutes of updating her charts, and she could finally relax. Falling into her chair, Esmeralda picked up the bottle of wine and, ignoring the glass, poured a mouthful down her throat. The spicy heat warmed her.
Her mind wandered back to the lady they had left tied up on that ship. Ladylike… she had never been ladylike. She had never wanted to be.
It had always been the high seas for her, the ocean calling her name. How could she ever want anything as much as she wanted this freedom?
***
For at least twenty minutes, Javier had been desperate to scratch his nose. There was a pain in his leg, and his shoulder had been numb for at least three hours, but he dared not move.
Of all the places he had been forced to hide, the crew of this damned ship returning far earlier than he had thought, it had to be the captain’s quarters!
He had hoped to find somewhere discreet, in the hold, perhaps, where he could creep out at night and scrounge some food, think up a plan.
But no. He had been foolish enough to time his movements ill, and the crew had tired of Plymouth far quicker than predicted. Now he was stuck here, in this most uncomfortable position, because in the few minutes he had to hide, he had found the storage locker in the captain’s quarter.
He had risked discovery, even pausing to think, but now he was caught in the most unfortunate position.
The door to the cabin had slammed shut a few minutes ago, and now, as far as Javier could make out from his truly awful viewpoint, the captain was seated at the desk drinking wine from the bottle, just like his father did.
Javier swallowed. He was not going to allow himself to think of that blasted man. He needed to calm his frantically beating heart, but the stuffy heat of the locker meant he could barely get enough air in his lungs. He closed his eyes.
“You are a disgrace to the Demonios name,” his father had said quietly.
Javier had bristled. “I do not care. I want to leave this family and this name behind. I never wanted to be a pirate in the first place.”
And at those words, the first mate of the Doloria had stepped forward and slapped his adult son right across the face. Javier had stared at the older man in fury.
“You want to be a landlubber?” his father had raged. “You want to shame me even more than you have already done so? Idiota! I would be rid of you, so if you choose to leave, leave. But remember, unless you pay the forfeit price, a price will always be on your head.”
And at those words, Javier had known he would do what he was asked, whatever it took, to be free of the Demonios tribe and his father.
And his father had known it. He had grinned, yellow teeth appearing slowly. “You will leave the family and its name behind if you bring me…”
Javier opened his eyes, forcing the memory away. His gaze caught the captain before him, and he swallowed down the panic.
Captain Esmeralda le Brecque. Bringing her back in chains was the only way out of his damned family, and he was only a few hours away from capturing her and freeing himself.
It was all perfect. That crewman had mentioned Southampton, and Javier’s English mother had taught him enough to follow the conversation. In just a few days, they would be in Southampton, and he could hand her over to his family and be done with them. A crew went to pieces without their captain, so they would be easy to control.
Javier tried not to move, but his nose was starting to bother him. All he had to do was stay calm for…
The door of his hiding place was thrust open, bright light dazzling him, as a strong hand grabbed him, pulling him out. Javier yelled, his numb leg barely able to hold him up. Try as he might, he could not draw his sword, for his assailant now had both his arms in their grip, pulling them away from his body, so he could not reach his weapon.
Javier tried to turn, leg wobbling, to see his attacker, but the miscreant kicked him painfully in the back of the knee and then headbutted him. He fell to the floor in agony, feeling the rough wood beneath his fingers.
“Wait, I…”
But he was ignored. His attacker dragged him to the center of the room by his feet, and before he could do or say anything, he was secured to the chair by manacles.
Javier spat blood out of his mouth and tried to shake his long dark hair from his eyes to look up at the person who had so cleverly detected him, attacked him, and now bound him to the captain’s chair.
Standing before him, wry smile on her face and hands on her hips, was Esmeralda.
Chapter Two
Esmeralda slowly walked around the room, opening a drawer from one of the cabinets and removing a long, sharp hairpin. A relic from her mother, it was something she rarely wore. But by God, was it useful in interrogations.
The stranger chained to her chair, gasped, his voice low, and tried to push himself back. His dark eyes were fixed on the pin.
Esmeralda laughed. Brigands always thought she was going to do something terrible with the pin, and often, words came spilling from their mouths before she could open her own.
She brought her arms up, and the man flinched.
This was what it felt like to be alive. Her heart was racing, every inch of her glowing with life, especially her hands that were sore from fighting the intruder. Why this was better the raid!
She had thought robbing that newlywed couple had made her feel powerful, but there was nothing like combat. The chase, the fight, the victory, it was what she lived for.
Esmeralda took a step forward, and this time, the man did not flinch but stared. With the boards of the Periculum under her feet, she knew she could never lose.
This was unexpected, a stowaway.
Well, stowaways had been common on the ship she had grown up on. The Bellatorum had been large enough, with enough hiding places and empty chambers, for any of the local lads of any port they docked in to find their way aboard. Anyone looking for a different life. Anyone looking to be free of their past.
They were always found eventually, but they would be far enough out to sea to put them to good use by then. Many a quartermaster started his illustrious career as a stowaway.
But on the Periculum? It was too small. Nimble, speedy, but with few hiding holes.
It was a renegade from the le Brecque clan, just like her. Esmeralda’s heart twisted. What did this grown man want with her ship?
Without saying a word, she crossed the cabin and rang a large silver bell. The door burst open a few seconds later.
“What?” Shepherd said gruffly. “Yes, Captain?”
Esmeralda nodded at her prisoner. “We have a guest.”
The quartermaster’s eyes darted over to the man chained to the chair, and a grin creased his face.
“Let’s get the crew together and have a chat with our new friend,” Esmeralda said curtly.
Shepherd leered at the stranger, but with another glare from his captain, he nodded and left the room.
“I can explain.”
Esmeralda turned to her captive. He spoke English with a thick accent, a Spanish accent. Every part of her being bristled. The Spanish were the enemies of England, and though she paid little attention to landlubbers' politics, Spanish pirates had done sufficient damage to the le Brecque clan that she
had an instant dislike for the bound man.
“I doubt it,” she said. “Do you know what happens to stowaways who are found on my ship?”
He shook his head, eyes wide.
She allowed a cruel smile to part her lips. “Neither do I. This is a first for me. What fun we are going to have, finding out together.”
The stranger looked terrified, but he fought the fear, attempting to remain calm.
Poor blighter probably hated life on land. Who would not? Perhaps he thought this ship could take him away from all his troubles.
The cruel captain was not a role she enjoyed playing. One day she would be honest about herself and still maintain her crew's respect.
But that was impossible at the moment. She had grown up on pirate ships and knew the bigger, more violent captains gained their crew’s loyalty—or fear—far easier than a gentle one.
Respect was earned, not given, and her three years as captain had not yet been enough. Perhaps, in time, she would gain the love and loyalty of her whole crew.
Until then…
The door to her cabin opened, and the crew burst in, some laughing, some serious. They moved around the cabin, circling the prisoner as they leered.
“Keelhaul him, I’d say,” said Andrews, fiddling with a knife.
Chequers shook his head. “No, I say sell him to the French pirates, les porteurs d’eau. They are always looking for galley crew.”
Esmeralda allowed them to continue for a few minutes and then cleared her throat. Usually, that would have been sufficient to gain silence, but not today. Mutterings continued in the cramped cabin.
“Silence,” she said, still not raising her voice.
It was still not enough. A ripple of discomfort moved through her heart.
“Quiet,” barked Shepherd. The crew all looked at him, then her, and fell silent.
The queasiness in her stomach had nothing to do with the gentle roll of the ship. That was the first time that an order of hers had not been obeyed, not until Shepherd had endorsed it. She would need to think about that.
At this moment, however, she had a different problem. Stepping into the center of the circle, the prisoner glared as she approached. He tried to lunge but fell back, the chair and his manacles preventing him from moving.
Always the High Seas: Pirates of Britannia Connected World Page 1