by Clare Sager
Yorke smiled and gestured to the door. “Go to the civilian docks if you want a reminder of that fate.”
Billy was docked in Portsmouth.
It was the first time they’d been in the same place since he’d left the Navy and Knigh owed him a visit. Owed him a lot more, in fact.
So here he was, at the civilian wharves, south of the Royal Dockyard. After changing from his uniform, he’d found some familiar faces in one of the taverns preferred by Navy lads and a few questions had got him the name of Billy’s vessel. The Swallow, a merchant barque that ran passengers and Albionic goods like lace and wool to Arawaké and returned with spices, tobacco, and other Arawakéan specialities.
He’d only planned to visit Billy to see if there was anything he needed, any way he could help. He hadn’t expected to hear he was still sailing, never mind that he ran a route all the way to Arawaké. Perhaps he’d have space for two more passengers …
When he spotted the ship, he froze mid-step. What was he doing? He hadn’t seen Billy since they’d landed in Albion after that fateful tour, and now he was darkening his door to ask a favour.
Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed more coffee. And willow bark – that helped with headaches.
He had to do this. Running away wasn’t an option. This might be the only way he could get Vee out of Portsmouth. If he could get her to Arawaké, she’d be out of the Navy’s grasp, just another pirate on the seas. And this time she wouldn’t have him hunting her.
Plus, he would pay for their passage. It didn’t have to be a favour. Billy wouldn’t be complicit – plausible deniability.
“Knigh?”
His spine straightened. He knew that voice. Gulping, he rubbed his eyelids before opening them.
With a broad grin, a tanned man hurried over the Swallow’s gangway, dark eyes wide and shining. “It is you.”
He’d grown a beard over the past two years, but there was no mistaking that smile, the round eyes – even his dimples were still visible through the neat facial hair.
Billy Hopper.
The Honeymoon
Knigh’s stomach turned, and it took all his willpower not to run or vomit. Or both.
“Captain Knighton Villiers,” Billy said, then snapped in a sharp salute. Grinning, he closed in and grabbed Knigh’s shoulder, giving him a good, long look. “I heard you’d made Captain. And the youngest ever, too. Congratulations, my friend.” He clapped Knigh’s shoulder. “Always knew you would.”
My friend. Knigh blinked.
Lords, he was just staring at the poor man, wasn’t he?
He cleared his throat. “Thank – thank you.” His gaze skittered to the left cuff of Billy’s coat where a hand should’ve been. It would have been, if not for him. He swallowed back bile. “How – how are you? This looks like a fine vessel.”
If anything, Billy’s smile grew broader, and he gestured at the Swallow. “She is, she is! And, as for me, I’ve never been better.”
Knigh’s chest ached. Billy didn’t need to say that to make him feel better. But to say so would be pitying and cruel. Billy was the one who’d lost a hand, and it was his fault – Knigh wasn’t the victim here. So he smiled like it was true and nodded.
But … with that tan, and those bright eyes, Billy did look healthy. Maybe even happy.
Knigh arched his eyebrows. “Never better?”
“A ship of my own – well, a share of it, anyway. The wind in my hair. And a damn sight fewer rules.” He stroked his beard. “I’ve even been able to grow this without anyone court marshalling me.”
Despite himself, Knigh snorted.
“Although,” Billy said, eyeing him with raised brows, “from the state of you, I wonder if the rules have eased over the past couple of years.”
Knigh rubbed his cheek, stubble rasping his fingertips. Unshaven, not in uniform. A state probably was the term for it.
Billy cocked his head. “That is, if you’re still in the Navy?”
Not for much longer. He swallowed and nodded, the thought heavy, making his head pound harder. “I’m – I’m just on leave at the moment.”
“You, on leave?” Billy chuckled. “Wonders will never cease.”
His heart skipped. One of Vee’s favourite phrases. He needed to make arrangements. With a little luck, Billy would be leaving soon. “I – ah – actually, I’m on honeymoon.” Saying Vee was his wife seemed the most plausible way to explain them travelling together and would provide her an identity.
“Honeymoon?” Billy’s eyes went wide again, and he grabbed Knigh into a fierce hug, slapping his back. “You sly dog you! I’d heard you’d made Captain, but not this! It seems we have a lot to celebrate. Come, have lunch with me.”
“I – I can’t possibly, I –” Knigh raised his hand, backing away. Billy’s kindness was too much to bear. Not when all Knigh deserved was resentment, retribution, some sort of repayment for the disability he’d caused.
But, of course, Billy was too good a person to show the hatred he had to feel somewhere deep inside or to make Knigh uncomfortable.
Knigh winced. All the things he wasn’t. Too good, too kind, too thoughtful.
“I insist,” Billy said with a final nod. “But if it helps, I’ll let you buy.” He winked then called to an older sailor inspecting lines and let him know he’d be back soon. He promised to bring back some lunch then turned towards the buildings lining the seafront. “Come on, Knigh. You can catch me up on everything you’ve been up to, and I’ll see if I can’t persuade you to invest in my business.” He flashed a bright grin and led the way.
Sighing, Knigh followed. He couldn’t deny Billy anything. Not when he owed him so much.
It turned out Billy had used the lump sum he’d received from the Navy – topped up in secret by Knigh – to start a business with a family friend. They’d bought a ship, which Billy sailed with a few modifications for his hand and, of course, help from a skilled crew, most of whom were former Navy. They traded between Arawaké and Europa, mostly Albion, focusing on those commodities that were specialities of the respective areas. By all accounts, the business was successful and currently in the process of financing a third ship.
Billy somehow cajoled him into eating a little and to his surprise, his stomach kept the food down.
It seemed his friend genuinely was at least enjoying some prosperity. Maybe his life hadn’t been completely ruined that day Knigh had cut his hand off.
All this time, Knigh had pictured him shut away, struggling, unhappy. That thought had coiled with the anger for Father, twisting and seething into an anchor cable too heavy to raise.
A half-smile in place, he listened to Billy talking about his latest trip and how there’d been some problems with a passenger attempting to seduce him. If he wasn’t happy, he was at least not miserable.
“But here I am going on about my adventures,” Billy said, shaking his head and setting his cutlery aside. “I haven’t even asked you about your greatest one. Marriage, eh?” He chuckled and took a sip of his ale. “Tell me about the lady, then.”
Knigh’s belly flipped, threatening to bring the little he’d eaten back up. The clock on the mantlepiece said it was nearly one o’clock. “Unfortunately, I can’t linger, but I wonder if you might have the chance to meet her soon.”
Thankfully Billy had only arrived in Portsmouth the day before yesterday, so he wouldn’t recognise Vee from the reports of her trial. Not that she was recognisable at the moment. His stomach twisted again.
He would make this right.
Licking his lips, his gaze slid to the gravy and picked-at slice of pie on his plate. “She arrives in town tonight, and I was actually at the docks to try and secure our transport to Arawaké.”
He swallowed. He’d worked out the story as he’d taken stock this morning and had embellished it as he’d walked down to the docks. But saying it out loud, knowing he was lying to Billy, was a different matter entirely and the words coated his throat.
“I mean to settle her there, so she won’t be far away when I’m working.” Forcing his breaths slow and even, he chanced a look at his friend.
His eyebrows were raised, and a slow smile spread across his lips. “Well, I never. Knighton Villiers is actually in love.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t want her far away while you work? I thought you lived only for the Navy. When you said you’d married, I assumed it was a matter of family duty, not a love match.” He leant over the table and patted his shoulder. “Well, for that I must apologise and wish you much more heart-felt congratulations than I did earlier.” Brown eyes earnest, Billy held his eye contact and nodded. “Congratulations, my dear friend. I’m so happy for you.”
Wild Hunt take me.
He didn’t deserve this from Billy, especially not in response to a lie. But it was a necessary lie. A life-saving lie. If he could just make this plan work …
Clinging to that thought, he pushed his mouth into a smile. “I’m hoping you have space for two more passengers when you return to Arawaké.”
“Ah” – Billy nodded – “I see. Well, I’m afraid we leave in the morning, I’m sure that’s too –”
“It’s perfect.” Even better than he could have hoped, in fact. If they could get away on the early tide, they might even escape before the guards spotted Vee wasn’t in that cruel cage. “She – my wife – she doesn’t have much taste for Portsmouth, so she’ll be glad to leave as soon as possible.”
Eyebrows raised, Billy blinked. “Well, if you’re sure, then, yes, I have the berth.”
Knigh scratched his face to hide the relieved breath he exhaled. “Thank you, Billy. I can pay now, it’s –”
“No, you can’t.” He shook his head, a laugh in his voice. “I won’t hear of it.”
Knigh clenched his jaw and rose. Billy might decline payment now, but he had a whole voyage to slip the money to him. “We’ll see.”
Billy just laughed and stood, pulling his coat on. “Get yourself out of here – it sounds like you have more preparations to make for this mysterious wife’s arrival.”
“You can say that again.”
They said their goodbyes, and Knigh promised to bring some belongings to the Swallow later.
Knigh hurried further inland towards a reputable inn. He’d secured their passage, but he still needed to finalise other parts of his plan before the sun set.
From seeing her this morning, it was going to take some work to disguise the fact she was a fugitive. A lady’s clothes, a wash, food, and, preferably, some time to rest before they slipped through the city to the docks and masqueraded as husband and wife.
He rubbed his face. Even then, with how ill she looked, someone might sense something off and look too closely. This kind of sickness – he wasn’t even sure if he could heal it with his gift. It might just take time and care. Perhaps when he dropped his belongings off with Billy, he’d mention that she was unwell, and he was hoping Arawaké’s climate would help her health. That way, he wouldn’t be too shocked by her appearance. But then again, maybe she’d look better after a wash and some rest.
Glancing along the road confirmed no one followed him. Good – best if the Navy didn’t know about this visit to the inn or the other errands he needed to run this afternoon.
He couldn’t take Vee to his Navy suite – that would be leading her into the lions’ den. First, he’d rent a room in the inn, explaining his ill wife was due to arrive late tonight and would need a bath and food.
Then he’d buy the best clothes he could find – there wasn’t time to have something made for her, but pawn shops and second-hand clothes shops would have fine ladies’ cast-offs. Plenty of officer’s wives only wore a gown once or twice, there would have to be a decent stock of such outfits in the city. Vee’s height might be an issue, but she’d have to make do with what he could find.
Rubbing his hands together against the nip in the air, he clenched his jaw. What else?
His gaze crept over the shops and houses of the bustling street, then across to the distant castle towers. Gods, she’d be freezing up there today. His heart clenched. Please say they’d stoked that brazier.
He bit his lip. A warm cloak or coat. And she’d need comfort after the torture of that cage and – and what he’d done.
Goosebumps rose on his flesh, and his stomach turned again.
He swallowed. He didn’t have time to dwell on his monumental mistake. If they got away, he’d have the whole journey to Arawaké to think about it.
Right now, though, he had to focus on tonight. This plan, its perfect planning and completion were all that mattered.
So. He nodded and huffed out a breath. What could he do to bring Vee some small comfort after all she’d been through?
Barnacle was in his rooms, ready to come on their trip, but maybe his budget would stretch to some little extras. He could make sure the undergarments were the softest he could find – they’d be gentle on her tender skin. Medicinal salts for her bath would help, too. Fruit, nuts, cake to help her regain energy. He also had the book – the dragon one he’d bought in Nassau. Yes, that was the kind of thing Vee would appreciate.
Sweet-smelling oils would be a kindness – a pointless luxury, but one that, hopefully, would say … would say he cared.
His throat clenched, and his fingers closed over the shell in his pocket. “I’m so sorry, Vee,” he whispered. “Gods, Lords, Ladies, please help me help her and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for this.”
He pulled the shell out, his knuckles white, and pressed it to his lips. “Please.”
The Dream
The sun was setting over Portsmouth, but if she closed her eyes, she could just about persuade herself she was on a ship. The sea was close enough to smell, all seaweed-salty, and to hear rushing against the castle’s footings. Gulls called and, in the pretty image, wheeled above the Venatrix’s sails. The rocking motion every time she moved was the shifting of waves against hull.
The constant movement she’d spoken to Knigh about that first time they’d met.
Frowning, she screwed her eyes closed tighter. Thinking about that took her too close to reality. Reality was where most of her body ached and the parts that didn’t, seared with constant pain. Her hands and the burn on her forehead most of all.
In reality, her body had betrayed her, thanks to this damn iron. There was the pain, but also the trembling weakness and bone-deep exhaustion.
But worse, so very much worse, was that she was alone. Even Barnacle, who’d been circling below the cage for days, the sweet, silly thing – she’d gone. Vice hadn’t seen her all day. It was probably just as well – staying here would get the cat nothing. Hopefully, she’d found somewhere warm and dry with someone kind who’d give her endless chin scratches.
Quaking, she buried her face in her hands and bit back a sob.
It was just the feebleness. Just the exhaustion. Just the gnawing hunger. That was all. They’d given her water, bread, and cheese, but she’d struggled to eat, sickened by the iron.
She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t upset. She wasn’t weak.
Because sorrow was powerless. Sorrow got you nowhere. Sorrow had nearly drowned her when Evered had died. And she wasn’t that person.
She was strong. She was tough. She was …
She was on the Venatrix, sailing through the broad, beautiful blue of Arawaké. She could almost feel the sun on her face, the sea below. If she reached out, she’d be able to take the wheel and steer their course somewhere new, somewhere …
“All is well.” One of the guards above.
It was pretty, but it was a lie. She wasn’t at sea, on the Venatrix or any ship. She was …
… Going to die alone.
Knigh wasn’t coming. There would be no last-minute pardon or a rescue attempt. She was stuck in here. Even when they released her from this cage to take her to hang, she’d be too weak to use her gift to save herself.
Every child
knew the stories about the fae-touched or fae-blooded who tried to use their gifts when they had no energy left to give, when their bodies were too weak.
They died.
But if she was going to be hanged anyway …
It had to be worth a try. As soon as she was clear of this iron, she’d call in a storm or fog or a gale or something – anything that might help her escape. A lightning bolt striking the gallows would be a good distraction. Mist could cover her escape.
Assuming she was still alive to run.
The sun shone through the clouds, glinting on the water on the sleek backs of dolphins following the ship, leaping and twisting through their wake. She laughed and pointed them out to Perry and Saba.
He wasn’t coming.
She could have cried at the sight of him this morning, and her vision had blurred a couple of times as they’d talked. But, no, she hadn’t given him the satisfaction of seeing her cry, of seeing her weak, of seeing how much just the hint of a friendly face had meant to her.
Pulling her dirty coat tighter, she folded her arms against the cold and screwed her eyes shut. That wasn’t moisture coming from them.
It was the sea’s refreshing spray. It glistened in the sun, arcing a rainbow over the deck and saying the fae approved of their work, of her captaincy, of …
She must have dozed off because there was a sudden metallic clang, close-by, and when she jerked, eyes opening, it was full dark. Even the brazier below had gone out and the nearest torches and –
“Vee?”
With a sharp breath, she flinched and blinked into the darkness. Edged in moonlight, there he was, back at the top of that wall just as he had been this morning.
Eyes stinging, she sagged against the cage, the iron uncomfortably hot even through her layers of clothing.
“You came.” Even to her ears, her voice sounded broken, but …
Did it matter?
He was here.
“I did,” he murmured, voice thick as velvet, “and I’m going to get you out.”
Hand covered with a handkerchief, he pulled something out of the lock – a poker? That must have been the sound that had woken her – him breaking the lock. He hooked it into his belt, like a sword at his side, and pulled the door open.