Sky Pirate (Belles & Bullets Book 3)

by Caylen McQueen

“I will... consider it.” Sighing, Lyneah finally lowered her gun, and the pirates who surrounded Doon followed her lead. “But I don't trust you, Captain Doon. As long as you're here, I'll be keeping an eye on you.”

  “Fair enough,” Doon conceded with a shrug. “If I was you, I'd keep an eye on me too. Maybe even two eyes. Truth be told, I'm not exactly the most trustworthy fellow.”

  Eighteen

  “I think you're the only one here who doesn't look at me with blatant mistrust in his eyes,” Doon said to Tobias as they moved throughout the camp. Doon asked the younger man to join him on a walk, since he was the only one who knew Kitt as well as he did, if not better. If he couldn't be with Kitt, being with her friend was the next best thing. “I think you might be the only one who doesn't want to sink a knife in my back. I appreciate that.”

  “Lyneah wanted to banish you,” Tobias told him. “I convinced her you would be necessary, though. We're going to need a way to move the army we're gathering, so we'll need your ship.”

  “So I was allowed to stay because of my airship, not for my wit? Such a shame.” Doon snickered to himself.

  “At least you have an airship. I'm almost c-completely useless. I've been trying to train with Kieran, but--”

  “Train? With Kieran? He's teaching you how to fight?” Doon waited for Tobey's nod, then he added, “Well, no offense, but that seems like a colossal waste of time. If you really want to learn, you should have a proper teacher. Me.” Doon lit a cigarette and offered one to Tobias, who shook his head in decline.

  “You'd train me? Captain Francis Doon wants to train me?”

  “Sure. Why not? I've never taken on a pupil before, so you should consider yourself lucky. Besides, you're a friend of Kitt's, so why not?” Doon held his cigarette in one hand and drew his sword with the other. Then he motioned for Bryce, his persistent bodyguard, to come forward. “Bryce, will you find a sword for the young man? I'm going to teach him a bit of the basics.”

  “Aye.” Bryce slid his own sword from its scabbard and offered it to Tobey. “He can 'ave mine.”

  “Hmm. I don't know. Your sword is unusually large, Bryce. It's certainly not a beginner's weapon. I'll use it, and Tobias can have mine.” Doon passed his sword to Tobias, then he claimed Bryce's bulky, curved blade for himself. “Now... we should probably start with the proper placement of your feet. They should be further apart. You'll want to keep your body as grounded and balanced as possible.” Doon whacked Tobias' leg with the flat of his blade, encouraging him to move his feet. “Keep your shoulders up. Try to be as relaxed as possible. You'll want to have a firm grip on the blade, but not too tight.” As he instructed his new pupil, Doon took a drag from his cigarette.

  “Can you really fight and smoke at the same time?” Tobias' nose wrinkled as he asked the question.

  “Oh yes. Sure. Of course. That shouldn't be a problem. I did say it was important to stay relaxed.”

  “So should I be smoking and fighting simultaneously? Is that the secret to your success?” Tobias asked with a chuckle.

  “Probably not. Kitt wouldn't forgive me if I turned her friend into another version of myself. Besides, she hates these.” Doon raised the cigarette. “If she was around right now, I wouldn't have this in my hand.”

  “Where is Kitt right now? In the castle?”

  “Aye. And it's entirely my fault that she's there. And before you get angry... yes, I regret it, and yes, I'm going to fix it.”

  Tobias hesitated with his next question. When he finally asked it, his eyebrow raised. “Do you... care about her?”

  “Yes. Sure. Maybe. I don't know.” Doon downgraded his answer three times in a matter of seconds. “Now... let's just get back to training. No more distractions. Raise your sword, and we'll start with some defensive moves.”

  Unbeknownst to Tobias, Lyneah was watching at a distance. She finished her broadcast an hour ago, which meant she had the rest of the day to relax. Thanks to her daily rallying cry, their small camp was growing larger each day. They had at least forty people with them now—nearly a hundred, if Doon's pirates were counted. Even with Soren and Arthur making daily supply runs to Sheepsgate, it was getting more and more difficult to keep everyone fed. If more people came, she would have to ask Francis Doon for help. According to a man named Doldy, the airship had an impressive food storage.

  While Lyneah was watching Tobey's attempts to block and parry, Kieran approached from behind. “Hey, love.” He sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, which she immediately shrugged off. “You're not happy to see me?”

  “I don't mind your company.”

  “You don't mind?” Kieran snorted at her answer. “And here I thought you'd be ecstatic to see me!”

  “You thought wrong.” When she saw Kieran's lips dipping into a frown, Lyneah quickly added, “I'm only teasing you! I like to have you around, Kieran. It's much better than being alone.”

  “It looks like the boy's found a teacher he likes better than me,” Kieran said, pointing at Doon and Tobias.

  “Tobias appreciates both of his teachers, I'm sure.”

  “I'm a little jealous, to be honest. It feels like a stab in the back. The boy and I were getting along so well... and then he leaves me for the man who killed my brother.” Kieran grumbled and shook his head. “That Tobias... he doesn't know the meaning of the word loyalty.”

  “I'm a bit jealous too,” Lyneah confessed. “He's been spending more time with his teachers than me.” As she watched Tobias' lesson, Lyneah suddenly gasped. At one point, the pirate's sword whizzed downward and came uncomfortably close to shaving the side of Tobey's head. Tobias managed to block, but with a split second to spare. “God, he almost killed him! Can't Doon go a bit easier on him in the beginning?”

  “Nah. I mean, I don't care for Doon, but it's best to dive right in. That'll bring the boy's balls right out.” Kieran slipped his arm around Lyneah's shoulders a second time. To his surprise, she didn't reject his affection. “By the way, love, if you ever feel bored and lonely at night, you're more than welcome to join me in my tent. I wouldn't kick you out.”

  “God, you're persistent!” She groaned. “Kieran... that is not going to happen.”

  “Why not? I caught you slipping into Tobias' tent the other night. Surely you'd rather shag a man than a boy?”

  “Tobias is not a boy,” Lyneah defended him. “He's a man. A young man, but still a man. And I'm not shagging anyone. We just... cuddle.”

  “Cuddle?” Kieran snorted at the word. “Are you serious? You just cuddle him like he's your best mate?”

  Lyneah nodded. “Yes.”

  “And... he doesn't try anything?” Kieran sounded astounded, as if they were discussing the existence of a mystical creature. “He doesn't try to grope your breast... or slide his hand under your skirt?”

  “No. Never. He's a perfect gentleman.”

  “Damn.” Kieran dragged a hand across his beard as he tried to make sense of what she was telling him. “Is he a homosexual?”

  “No!” Lyneah shrieked. “He's just very, very kind!”

  “I'm going to have to have a word with that boy. At some point, he needs to stop cuddling you and make a move. I mean... damn, I do want you for myself, but I'm not going to let him waste an opportunity like that. It sounds like he desperately needs some advice. It's time for the boy to make himself a man.”

  Lyneah finally shoved Kieran's arm off her shoulders. “You're horrible! Just because a man doesn't have his paws all over me, that doesn't make him less of a man!”

  “He doesn't have to have his paws all over you, but if he had one paw on you occasionally, I'd have a bit more respect for the lad.”

  Doon and Tobias' lesson was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of Carol, who handed a sandwich to Tobey. As soon as he accepted her gift, she threw her arms around his neck, pulled him down, and kissed him deeply.

  “Or...” Kieran chuckled to himself as they witnessed the kiss. “Maybe he's got his
paws on her. If he does, I can't say I blame him. She's very fit.”

  Lyneah had seen and heard enough. She sprang to her feet and stormed to her tent, muttering curses about Carol as she fled.

  Tobias could barely hold onto his sandwich when he felt Carol's lips on his. After a few seconds, he leaned away from the kiss and broke out of her grip. “C-C-Carol! Wh-What was that?” he stammered.

  “I dunno. I just felt like kissing you. And I thought I'd bring you a sandwich 'cause you've been working so hard!” Carol tried to flash him her sweetest smile, but his stunned expression lingered. “Sorry I didn't bring a sandwich for you, Francis. That was rude of me.”

  “Please don't call me Francis,” Doon was quick to correct her. “Only my father ever called me Francis, and I hate to hear his voice in my head.”

  “Aww... but I like the name Francis!” Carol exaggerated a pout. “One time, my brother took me to a brothel in Bordeaux... don't ask me why. If you didn't know, Bordeaux is a city in Columbigo, and it's a den of debauchery and sin. But anyway, in this whorehouse, one of the girls was named Frances, but it was spelled with an E, and she was the bustiest girl I've ever seen. I mean... they were huuuuge! I don't think I could ever forget that. So... my whole point is, if you share your name with the busty girl from the brothel, that's not such a bad thing!”

  Doon was speechless as he stared at Carol. After a few seconds of slack-jawed silence, he slowly brought his cigarette to his lips.

  “Well... thanks for the sandwich, Carol.” Tobey hoped he wasn't blushing too badly, but he could feel his cheeks getting warm. “That was really thoughtful of you.”

  While Tobias paused to eat his sandwich, Miles came over with a tray of tea and biscuits. When he saw Miles heading their way, Doon said, “It looks like we'll have to postpone your lessons for now. Everyone keeps wanting to feed us!”

  Miles stopped when he reached Tobey's side. “Would you care to join me for tea, young man? I hear you're a friend of Kitt, and I would love to hear what you have to say about her.”

  Doon clicked his tongue, feigning aggravation. “You mean, you're not inviting me to tea? Miles, you wound me!” To Tobey, he added, “I should have said everyone keeps wanting to feed you. You're a very popular man around here, apparently.”

  Tobey shook his head and took a bite of his sandwich, “I don't know about that.” When he denied his popularity, Carol reached up to stroke his hair, as if to prove him wrong.

  “So... tea,” Miles redirected the conversation back to him. “Would you care to join me, Tobias? I've set up a table over there.”

  As soon as she saw Tobias' nod, Carol clung to his arm. “Wherever Tobey goes, I go too! Do you have enough tea for three?”

  “Of course, young lady. The more the merrier.”

  As he watched them go, Doon took another drag from his cigarette. A part of him was disappointed that no one invited him, but he enjoyed the solitude. For as long as he could remember, he preferred to be alone—until Kitt entered his life. Because she existed, because she found a way into his head, his once-quiet thoughts were a cacophony. Everything was much simpler before.

  Doon flicked his cigarette to the ground, crushed it beneath his boot, and marched back to the airship with a grumble.

  Nineteen

  Aislainn returned to the pub yet again, which had her thinking she was a masochist. It hurt her to see Sir Roderick in such a diminished state, but it hurt him even more. All around the castle, people were laughing and whispering about him. He was known as the vagrant knight who lost his lover, his dignity and his job, all in one day.

  Aislainn felt sorry for him, but not half as much as she felt sorry for herself. After spending the last few nights with King Roen, she desperately needed to get away, and the pub gave her a chance to escape. As long as she focused on Roderick's plight, Aislainn stopped fixating on the terrible reality of her own life.

  Roderick saw her enter the pub, but she didn't approach him right away, nor did he pay any particular attention to her. He stared at his empty shot glass and waited for the barmaid to reappear. They hadn't brought him a refill in ages, which made him wonder if there was some sort of conspiracy against him. What if even the barmaids were getting tired of his excessive drinking? Roderick wouldn't stand for that. If they didn't serve him soon, he told himself he would find another pub. It wasn't as if he had any particular attachment to this pub—although the regular visits from Aislainn had become an odd bright spot in his otherwise dark days.

  “Talk to me...” Roderick whispered to himself as he studied the handmaiden in the corner of his eye. He didn't even care if she lectured him, he was just tired of being alone.

  But Aislainn never moved from her table. She quietly sipped her tea and occasionally glanced in the direction of the disgraced knight. “Come on, Sir Roderick.” In her mind, she begged him. “Why don't you talk to me, for once, so I don't feel like such a nag.”

  When the barmaid never served him, and Aislainn never came to him, Roderick rose from his seat and staggered to the bar. He wasn't as drunk as he could have been, but his eyes were a bit blurry and his footsteps were heavy and clumsy. Roderick ordered an entire bottle of rum, which was passed to him by a vexed bartender. With his bottle in hand, he approached Aislainn's table, feigning surprise as he passed.

  “Ah... Miss Cumberland!” Roderick stopped beside her table, raising his bottle of rum as he bowed to her. “It's good to see you again. You come here often, I see.”

  “Hmm. Yes. Am I supposed to ask you to join me now?” She pretended to be indifferent to his approach, when in reality, Aislainn was thrilled by his company.

  “Well, if you don't want me around, I suppose I can walk away...”

  When he stepped away from the table, Aislainn grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back, which made Roderick grin. “No! Stay. I don't mind. I've almost finished with my tea, anyway. I might as well chat with you before I leave.”

  As he sank into the chair across from her, Roderick cradled the bottle of rum in his arm, as one might cradle a baby. “So... how have you been, Miss Cumberland?”

  “Horrible,” she casually replied. “And you, Sir Roderick?”

  “Awful. Simply dreadful.” Roderick rubbed his chin, on which he was growing a sparse beard. “Seeing you makes the day a little less dreadful, though.”

  “How... flattering?” Aislainn raised an eyebrow at his confusing sentiment. “You're still addicted to spirits, I see.”

  Roderick laid his bottle on the table and yawned. “No. Not addicted. I could stop drinking at any time.”

  “Is that so?” The handmaiden shook her head. “If that's true, I suppose you wouldn't mind if I took this bottle of rum from you...”

  When Aislainn reached out to pilfer the bottle, Roderick lightly slapped her hand away. “No... no! I just bought this. You can't have it.”

  “Right. You're not addicted at all.” She sat back in her chair with a roll of her eyes. “You have absolutely no attachment to alcohol. None whatsoever.”

  “I just don't like to lose things that are rightfully mine.”

  Of course, she was correct. A moment later, Roderick opened the bottle and poured himself three consecutive shots, downing one right after another. When he started to pour himself a fourth, Aislainn swiped the bottle from his hands.

  “Stop, Roderick. You need to stop this!” Aislainn held the bottle against her chest, keeping it out of his reach. “This really is beneath you.”

  “How would you know that? You don't know me. Not really.”

  “But I care about you. I want something better for you. I don't want to walk into the pub each day and see you drinking yourself to death!” Aislainn pouted at him. “Will you try to sober up?”

  Roderick shook his head ever-so-slightly. “Until I have something to sober up for, I doubt it.”

  “You could try... for me?”

  He shook his head again, more adamantly this time. “No. I won't be tricked by another beautif
ul woman pretending to care. I'm done with that. Whatever I do, I do for myself. I'll do whatever makes me happy, and right now, there's happiness in that bottle.” When Roderick tried to take the bottle back, he caught a glimpse of a blue-black bruise on the underside of Aislainn's arm. “Wait, what's that?”

  “What's what?”

  Roderick abandoned his pursuit of the bottle and seized her arm. “Right here.” He gently tapped both of the sizable bruises. “How did you get these?” He had a sinking feeling in his gut, but he hoped he was wrong. The bruises looked like they were made my human fists, and he needed her to tell him otherwise.

  Though ashamed, Aislainn quietly confessed the truth. “It's... King Roen.”

  “You mentioned this before. Something about a contract?” Roderick seemed to sober up a bit when he saw the bruises on her arm. “Tell me about it. Please.”

  “It's... not something you should concern yourself with, Sir Roderick. It's not--”

  “Please,” he repeated desperately. “If that man is hurting you in some way, I want to know. Is he hurting you?”

  Aislainn relinquished Roderick's bottle and fidgeted. As her fingers twirled in her lap, she tried to find the courage to give him an honest answer. Aislainn wasn't embarrassed so much as she was afraid it would effect his opinion of her. If the thought of King Roen's hands on her body was disgusting to her, she could only imagine how disgusting it would be to someone else. “When Lyneah was married, I... became his property. I should have never submitted to his demands, and I'm probably weak for doing so, but what's done is done, and now I must live with the consequences.” The corners of Aislainn's lips dropped into a deeper, more despondent frown. “I must do everything he tells me to do. And if I protest, I suffer. Sometimes he beats me... among other things.”

  Other things. Roderick wanted to ask what that entailed, but he already had a pretty good idea. He didn't want to hurt her by forcing her to relive the most horrible moments of her life. The more he thought about it, the more he could feel his anger boiling in his body. He wasn't sure if he felt more like a protective older brother or a vengeful boyfriend—or both. “When you leave the pub today, where will you go? Will you go back to him?”