“Because they changed course, and I know they saw us, that’s why.”
“Mayhap it’s because of the storm,” said Aaron. “At least it’s almost over now. We should be able to catch the Desperado easily. It’s not nearly as sturdy or as fast as the Falcon.”
“My point is that Father wouldn’t run from us,” Tristan told them.
“Well, mayhap they didn’t see us.” Mardon gave the excuse, but he didn’t seem as if he believed it.
“They saw us, all right,” Aaron assured them. “I spotted someone up in their rigging when I was in the lookout basket. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it was the Desperado.”
“It’s been a long time since any of us have seen it,” said Mardon in his brother’s defense.
“Or seen Father.” Aaron frowned.
“Aye, twelve years now.” While Tristan had missed their father and sister, he’d never doubted their choice of turning to piracy. Living life as a poor fisherman, relying on food from the sea to make a living, never suited him. Now, they shaped their own future by the plunder they attained from ships out at sea, or during their raids on land as well. They’d always had more than they needed as pirates. That is, until lately.
“Let’s see if we can catch the Desperado.” Mardon urged his brothers.
Tristan directed their ship to follow their father’s but the Desperado was already blown far from them because of the storm.
“Look, I see some of their cargo in the water.” Mardon pointed over the side of the ship.
“Flotsam!” shouted Aaron excitedly. “It’s just what we need.”
“Get some ropes and grappling hooks and a shuttle boat to collect it.” Tristan started to turn the ship, having already passed up some of the flotsam. Thank goodness, the waves were starting to calm down. It should be easy to pick up all the bounty.
Mardon bounded down the stairs with Aaron at his heels.
“Goldtooth, drop the sail,” shouted Tristan. “Stitch, come take the helm, and try to hold her steady so my brothers and I can collect the flotsam.”
Stitch was an older man, and the most fatherly one of the lot. He was also the crew’s navigator and could chart their course and get to their destination just by using the stars. He’d been a seafaring man for longer than most and was wiser than any of them when it came to matters involving the sea. His body was covered in scars from the many stitches he’d endured in his lifetime from his many battles. Goldtooth, on the other hand, was a big, burly man with arms the size of tree trunks and a look that was frightening enough to turn a man to stone. He didn’t move fast, but followed directions without question and was very strong. He was also one of Tristan’s best warriors when it came to fighting. He’d covered one of his front teeth with gold after one of their raids, gaining him his name.
“Slow down as we approach the cargo, and keep an eye on the waves,” Tristan said, handing over the helm. He started after his brothers. “If we can, we’ll try dropping a shuttle, but we’ll have to play it by ear.”
“Aye, Cap’n.” With Stitch at the helm, Tristan had no worries.
By the time Tristan made it over to his brothers, they were already lowering the shuttle boat into the water. Aaron and Ramble were inside while Mardon stayed above to point out the booty.
“Wait! The water might be too choppy to use the shuttle boats,” explained Tristan, looking over the side.
“It’s a chance we’ve got to take,” Mardon told him. “If not, we’ll never get those barrels and trunks on board. It’ll be hell trying to haul them up with just nets.”
“Fine, we’ll risk it,” agreed Tristan seeing more of the Desperado’s cargo floating their way. They needed this booty and he wasn’t about to lose it. They’d do whatever it took to bring it on board. “Get it all,” Tristan instructed. “And hurry. Mayhap when we’re done we can still catch Cato’s ship.” Tristan referred to their father by his Christian name. Cato was the man who first introduced the brothers to piracy when they were just young boys. It was because their father was struggling to put food on the table for his family. They’d kept this a secret from their sister and mother. The women never even knew Cato had the Falcon hidden in a cove.
“Look, what’s that?” asked Ramble, pointing at something in the water.
Tristan glanced over the side to see what looked like a person clinging to two floating vats of wine that were tied together.
“We’ve got ourselves a man overboard from their ship,” announced Mardon. “Loot him and then kill him quickly. He’s of no use to us.”
Once the shuttle boat hit the water, Ramble rowed it over toward the survivor. Aaron drew his sword with one hand and pulled the vats of wine closer with the other, reaching over the side of the small boat. “Bid the devil, it’s an old crone!” gasped Aaron.
Tristan realized now that an old woman hung on to the rope connecting the barrels, clinging to it for her life. She looked up at them, and her feeble voice cried out. “Help me, please.” Long silver, unbound hair floated on the water around her shoulders.
“Well, I’ll be. It really is a lass,” said Ramble.
“She’s old,” Aaron remarked, surveying the woman. “What should we do with her?”
“Bring the vats of wine on board and leave the old hag to the sea,” commanded Tristan.
“Ye’re goin’ to leave her to die?” asked Ramble. “Mayhap we should help her.”
“Nay. Tristan’s right,” agreed Mardon. “We have no need for a woman of that age. Besides, it’s bad luck to have a wench on board. You know that.”
“All right, whatever ye say.” Ramble reached out to try to pry the woman’s fingers from the rope, but she turned her head and bit his hand, causing him to cry out.
“Ow. She bit me!” he shouted, rubbing his hand. “What am I supposed to do?”
“I don’t give a damned, just bring that wine aboard. I’m thirsty,” said Mardon, his only interest being in the bounty they’d just procured.
“Aye. Hit her over the head with the hilt of your sword if you need to, but just put her out of her misery,” suggested Tristan. “Now get that wine aboard the ship because there is also a trunk I don’t want to lose.” Tristan and his brothers embraced their pirate ways, having learned from their father to be ruthless, heartless and cold. Cato Fisher had told them if they started feeling sorry for people, it would be their ticket to doom. He was right. The last thing they needed was on old woman on board. Their ways had worked well for them all this time, so there was no need to change now. They were considered pirate lords of the sea.
“I’m not goin’ to touch her again. Ye do it, Aaron,” said Ramble, still rubbing his hand, seeming leery of the woman.
“Did ye say Aaron?” The old woman’s head lifted and she looked first at Aaron and then back up to the others on the ship. She coughed and sputtered, her bony fingers turning white as they clung tightly to the rope while the barrels kept her afloat. “If he’s Aaron, are ye two Mardon and Tristan?” she asked, her tired eyes looking up to Tristan and his brother.
Her question surprised Tristan. How did the wench know their names? Mayhap she’d heard them from their father.
“Don’t worry who we are, because you’re not going to live long enough to remember our names anyway,” Tristan assured her.
“Nay, wait a minute,” said Mardon with a raised hand. “How do you know who we are?” he asked the old woman.
“Do you know our father?” asked Aaron curiously. “After all, you were on his ship, the Desperado, weren’t you?”
“Aye, I was, and of course I ken yer faither,” she answered, glaring at them now.
“Well, where is he?” asked Tristan. “Why did he sail away when I know he saw us? And why didn’t he come after you?”
“Why were you even on the ship to begin with?” asked Mardon. “Who are you to someone like our father? It doesn’t seem likely he’d be traveling with an old woman.”
“Bring me aboard and I’ll tell y
e lads everythin’ ye want to ken.”
Tristan and Mardon exchanged glances, but both of them shook their heads.
“Nay, it’s bad luck,” said Mardon, crossing his arms over his chest. “No wenches on board.”
“Plus, it goes against the code,” added Tristan with a shrug.
“I dinna give two hoots about any pirate code! Now bring me aboard,” demanded the old woman.”
“Why should we?” asked Aaron.
“Because I’ve got some valuable information for ye,” she told them, her fingers starting to slip. “Plus, I can cook and also heal.”
“I don’t know,” said Tristan, not liking this idea at all.
“God’s toes, help me already and stop talkin’ about killin’ me, ye fools,” commanded the old woman, not seeming afraid of them at all. Odd, since they were pirates. Most people were frightened out of their minds and rightly so.
“Who are you?” asked Aaron, scrutinizing the woman.
“My name is Nairnie,” she spat, looking madder than hell. “Yer sister, Gwen, tells me she sailed with ye lads on yer faither’s boat. She said ye were guid fishermen, but she failed to tell me ye were all stupid fools.”
“Hush up, old woman.” Mardon didn’t care about his old life and neither did Tristan.
“Don’t call us fishermen because that’s an insult,” said Tristan, taking more offense at that part then her calling them stupid fools. “We’re pirates now if you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, I noticed, and it disgusts me,” she ground out. “Bring me aboard the ship and I’ll make ye a guid meal.”
“I could go for something to eat besides hardtack,” said Aaron, looking up at his brothers, always hungry.
“You said you know our sister, Gwen,” said Mardon suspiciously. “So, tell me. How is she?”
“Get me out of this bluidy cold water at once and I’ll tell ye everythin’ ye want to ken, I swear.”
“Let’s bring her aboard,” suggested Aaron, looking up at his brothers from the shuttle boat licking his lips. He was obviously thinking about food again. They all were. Another wave slapped over them and the old woman went under and came up sputtering and spitting out water, nearly losing her grip. She wouldn’t be able to hold on for long.
“Nay,” said Tristan. “And that’s final. Now push her off the barrel and get the wine aboard. We need to go. We’ve already wasted too much time with this.”
“I could go for some wine, too,” said Aaron, reaching out for her.
“Nay!” cried the old woman. “Ye dinna want to hurt me.”
“Really?” Tristan raised a brow. “Why not? You give us a better reason to spare your life than cooking a meal and mayhap we’ll consider it.”
“If ye leave me to die, ye’ll never find out about yer faither.”
“Sure we will. We’ll track down the ship and find him for ourselves,” said Mardon.
“God’s eyes, ye mischant lads, ye’re twice as troublesome as yer faither was as a lad. Now, get me out of this water before my muscles freeze up.”
“You sound like you knew our father when he was young,” said Aaron.
“Well, I should hope so,” spat the old woman. “After all, Cato was my son.”
“Your . . . son?” asked Mardon, looking over to Tristan once again.
“Then that makes us . . .” started Aaron, but he was cut off by the boisterous woman.
“Aye, ye lousy scuppers of the sea, that’s right. Whether I like it or no’, ye’re my grandsons! And I can tell ye that ye’re already a huge let down from what I hoped ye’d be. Yer faither didna live with me long, but I’m sure he’s turnin’ over in his grave right now because his sons are plannin’ on lettin’ their own grandmathair drown!”
“Our father’s dead?” asked Mardon in surprise.
“As dead as ye three are goin’ to be as soon as I get my hands around yer necks for the way ye’re treatin’ an auld woman. Now help me up.”
“How do we know you’re telling us the truth?” asked Tristan. He wasn’t sure he trusted the old woman’s story.
“Well, if ye ever catch up to the Desperado, ye can ask yer sister about it yerself.”
“Gwen? Does she know we’re out here?” asked Aaron.
“Aye, she does! It was her idea to look for ye lads. Now, get me onto the ship and I’ll tell ye all about her and Brody and their four children.”
“Brody? As in the pirate that sailed with Rowen the Restless?” asked Tristan, surprised to hear this name springing from her lips.”
“He’s no’ a pirate anymore and neither is Rowen. I wish I could say the same for ye three.” She coughed up a little water and blew air from her mouth, making a face as another wave hit her.
“Gwen’s got four children? Really?” asked Aaron with a smile. “Our little sister is a mother.”
“Two lads and two lassies,” she answered.
“Did she name any of them after me?” asked Mardon curiously. Tristan wasn’t surprised by this since Mardon seemed to think everyone wanted to be him.
“I’ll no’ tell ye another thing before ye help me aboard yer ship.”
“What do you think?” Mardon asked Tristan.
“Let’s go.” Tristan looked up to the sky and squinted, trying to make sense of why the Desperado turned around. “If Father’s really dead, then mayhap that’s why they turned around. But if Nairnie is really our grandmother, then why would Gwen not do something to save her when she fell overboard? I don’t believe the old wench’s story.”
“They probably dinna even ken I’m gone,” Nairnie cried out, overhearing their conversation.
“Nay. Carry on,” Tristan called out to his crew, not knowing what to make of the old woman but realizing bringing her aboard would only mean trouble.
“Wait!” she cried out. “I didna want to have to tell ye, but I found a treasure map on yer faither’s ship.”
“Treasure map?” That gained Tristan’s interest. “What are you talking about? What treasure?”
“I believe Cato hid it from ye lads because he’d given up his pirate ways and didna want ye louses to find it.”
“Do you think that’s the map to the king’s treasure that Father used to tell us about?” asked Aaron, looking up the side of the ship at his brothers.
“It must be,” said Mardon. “I knew he had the map and hid it somewhere, but I never thought he’d leave it on his ship.”
“Give Aaron the map,” commanded Tristan, pointing to the shuttle boat. “If it’s real, we’ll bring you aboard.”
“I canna do that,” she said. “Besides, ye’d probably kill me once ye have it.”
“Search her for the map,” Tristan ordered.
“Dinna bother. It’s no’ on me,” she told him. “It was stolen on the way here.”
“Like I said, she’s no use to us.” Tristan waved his hand through the air.
“However, since it was just stolen, I’m sure if ye kent where I lost it and who took it, ye’d be able to get it back easily.”
“Perhaps we should bring her aboard and find out about the map,” suggested Aaron. “Plus, I wouldn’t mind hearing about Gwen.”
“Mayhap he’s right,” agreed Mardon, looking over at Tristan. “We could always get the information and then dump her back into the sea afterwards.”
“I heard that!” she shouted. “Ye do that and ye’ll never have a guid hot meal again.”
“Hot meal,” repeated Aaron, his eyes lighting up. “We’d better not let her drown.” He looked up the side of the ship at his brothers. “Just in case she’s really our grandmother.”
“I am yer grandmathair!” snapped the old woman. “And once I’m out of this cold water, I swear I’m goin’ to box in yer ears for treatin’ me this way.”
“More trouble than it’s worth?” Mardon asked Tristan.
“Probably,” said Tristan, looking back out to sea. It didn’t seem that the Desperado was coming back at all. He had no need for the o
ld woman, but now after everything he’d heard, he couldn’t just let her drown. She’d piqued his interest and thrown down a challenge. If she really knew where to find the king’s treasure, it could solve all his problems. Besides, the thought of eating hot food again did sound enticing. They hadn’t had a good meal ever since their cook died over the winter. The old wench was spunky and something about her called out to him. After all, what woman of that age could survive a fall from a ship in a storm and still have the nerve to talk to pirates in this manner? She sounded just as ruthless as them. It was too good to pass up. He needed to know more. Especially if she truly was their grandmother.
“All right. Get her aboard,” he finally agreed, hoping to hell she wasn’t going to bring them any more bad luck. Lately, that was all they seemed to have. “All I can say is, by God, she’d better really know where to find that treasure map and also how to cook.”
As soon as they hauled the old woman onto their ship, Nairnie stomped over to Tristan with her heavy, wet plaid leaking all over the deck. Before Tristan knew what hit him, her hand shot out and she slapped him across the cheek. The sound of skin against skin got everyone’s undivided attention.
“Did she just . . . slap you?” asked Mardon with a chuckle.
“Aye, ye bet yer arse I did.” Nairnie’s hand shot out and she slapped Mardon next. When she turned to Aaron he just closed his eyes and lifted his chin, taking his beating like a man.
The crew laughed and made a few rude comments.
“Keep that up and the rest of ye will be next!” she retorted. The crew immediately stopped laughing and went about their chores.
“Well, take me to my quarters and find me some dry clothes,” she commanded. “Then show me to the galley so I can cook up some food like I promised. Although, no’ a one of ye deserves anythin’ to eat after even thinkin’ of lettin’ yer own grandmathair drown!” She stormed off across the deck with every man there giving her a wide berth.
“Still wonder if she’s really our grandmother?” asked Mardon, gently touching his stinging cheek.
“Nay, I’ve no doubt in my mind that she is,” said Tristan. “No other woman would be so bold to say and do the things she just did.” He smiled and shook his head and the three of them started laughing. The only thing Tristan wondered now was how long it would take for bad luck to hit them since he’d just brought not only a woman aboard, but a woman who wouldn’t think twice of putting each and every one of them in their place.
Tristan (Pirate Lords Series Book 1) Page 3