Poseidon’s Legion
Page 11
“We’re being boarded!” she gasped.
Terrified she was about to become a spoil of war, Gregoria raced about the room, looking for something to defend herself with. There were two closets in the room and she yanked the first one open, only finding things like silver cups and other treasures, which weren’t of any interest to her unless she planned to beat somebody over the head with a fine cup. But the second closet contained two swords, shoved into the back, and she grabbed one of them, nearly tripping over it when she realized how heavy it was. It was long, too, but she didn’t care. It would be better to protect herself with a long, sharp sword than a short dagger. Someone could get too close to her if she only had a little blade for protection. But with this sword, she could hold off a man at a good distance.
Then, she waited.
Sounds of battle were all around her. The door to the cabin was bolted because Constantine had told her to lock it, so she had. She’d only opened it for the men who brought her food, but she promptly threw the bolt again when they left the cabin. Too frightened to open the door and peek out to see what was happening, she simply stood back by the windows, the sword in hand, listening to the chaos going on around her and waiting for the bolted door to be kicked down. Surely, if thieving men were on the ship, they would want what was in the captain’s cabin.
She was in the captain’s cabin.
It seemed like forever as she listened to the shouts and cries of battle. Gregoria had never heard such things before and her mind began to race. God’s Bones… she’d lived a quiet life, hadn’t she? A good life? She’d been kind to her mother and did as she was told. She’d even let her brother put her in this position, thinking she was being an obedient girl. Not that she’d had much choice, but still… she’d been a good girl, hadn’t she?
God, please do not let me be killed in this madness!
More banging, more yelling. The sea was becoming rougher and a quick glance from the window showed black clouds moving in from the west. A storm was coming. And then she heard the screams; it sounded like women screaming.
In fact, she could hear the screams above everything else, the crash of the sea and the roar of the wind. It was horrifically unnerving, all of it, and suddenly the screaming was on the other side of the chamber door. There was yelling and fighting and screaming, and the door was being bumped against. Terrified that a woman was being killed on the other side of the door and she wasn’t doing anything about it, Gregoria summoned her courage and went to the door, unbolting it and yanking it open.
A figure in silks and ruffles came spilling in through the door, all kicking feet and swinging fists as she landed on her backside. Astonished, Gregoria looked up to see Constantine and Lucifer standing in the open door, with chaos on the main deck beyond.
It was all that she had feared, and then some. It was as if someone had just opened the door to hell.
Chapter Nine
Constantine wasn’t surprised to see Gregoria standing in the doorway with a sword in her hand.
Cooped up in the captain’s cabin without any knowledge of the madness going on around her, it would make sense that the woman wanted to arm herself. Surely she must have thought the entire world was crashing down around her and, for a brief second, his heart leapt at the sight of her. It was such a joyous leap, something he’d never experienced before, as if the mere sight of her brought him contentment.
But that brief, warm moment was swiftly dashed when the woman who had literally fallen backward into the cabin leapt to her feet and began swinging her fists.
“Beasts!” she howled. “Where is my sister?”
The woman was a short little thing, with dark silky hair that was now a mess all over her head and shoulders, but she wasn’t giving up without a fight against two significantly larger men. When she took a swing at Lucifer, he put a hand on her forehead and gave a strong push, causing her to crash back onto her buttocks again. Constantine gave her a push with his booted foot for good measure, pushing her further inside the chamber and away from the door.
“Keep her in here,” he told Gregoria. “Bolt the door and do not let her leave.”
Gregoria’s mouth fell open with shock. “But…!”
He cut her off. “No questions,” he demanded. “Bolt this door and do not leave. That is not a request.”
His tone was cutting, harsh. Startled by the command and his controlled manner, Gregoria simply nodded her head as Constantine grabbed the door latch and yanked the panel closed. But the little woman was on her feet again, rushing for the door, and Gregoria intercepted her.
“Nay!” she said, trying to pull the woman away. “It is not safe out there. Did you hear him? You must stay here where you will not come to harm!”
Furious and frightened, the dark-haired woman slapped her right across the face. Startled, Gregoria slapped her back. Clearly, the dark-haired woman wasn’t used to being touched or resisted, because she swung at Gregoria’s face again and Gregoria ducked, giving the woman a shove back and sending her stumbling.
“You’ll not hit me again, do you hear?” Gregoria said angrily. “Try it and I shall slug you right in the nose!”
The dark-haired woman came to an unsteady halt, holding on to the wall for balance as the ship rocked about. “Are you in this with him?” she demanded. “If you are, then I will fight you to the death!”
Gregoria scowled. “Of course I am not a pirate!”
“Then why are you here?”
That was a good question, one with an answer that would make it seem as if she were, indeed, in collusion with Constantine. She didn’t want a battle on her hands with this terrified woman so she struggled to calm down, hoping her demeanor would encourage the frightened woman to calm as well.
“I am here on another matter,” she said evenly. “But I assure you, I am not a pirate. And those men are putting you into this room with me to keep you safe. There is a battle going on out there and you will be hurt if you leave this cabin.”
The woman pushed her long hair out of her eyes, revealing a rather lovely face. She had dark, flashing eyes and rosebud lips, but her expression was set and hard.
“They put me in here to keep me a prisoner,” she said flatly. “Are you a prisoner, too?”
Gregoria wasn’t sure she should answer that because the woman wouldn’t appreciate the truth. It was rather complicated, so she sought to change the subject.
“Why would you be a prisoner?” she asked. “Did your ship not attack this ship?”
The woman’s face darkened. “We fired only to protect ourselves,” she said. “I know who commands this ship; it is Constantine le Brecque, the most wicked pirate in these waters. He is taking my father’s ship as a prize!”
“Who is your father?”
“He is a merchant!”
Gregoria learned a lot in that agitated explanation. Given Constantine’s vocation, she was quite certain she couldn’t deny the woman’s charge.
“If you fired upon him first, mayhap you angered him,” she said, trying to search for an explanation. “Where is your captain? Surely he knows it is not safe to fire on a pirate ship.”
The woman growled. “He is dead,” she said, suddenly appearing as if she were about to cry. “I saw him killed with my own eyes. One of le Brecque’s men speared him through the heart.”
At that, she turned away, clearly upset with the turn of events. Once the sheer panic eased, all that was left was terror and sorrow. In truth, Gregoria felt a little sorry for her.
“My name is Gregoria,” she said, trying to ease the situation a little. “Everyone calls me Gregg. What is your name?”
The woman had her back to Gregoria, dabbing at her eyes. “Genevieve,” she said. “I am Genevieve Efford.”
“Where do you live, Genevieve?”
Genevieve eyed her. “Why would you ask such a question?” she demanded, becoming agitated again. “This is not time for idle conversation. We must find a way to get out of here!”
Genevieve didn’t like that answer. “But my sister is out there,” she said. “I must go and save her!”
Gregoria had a feeling the woman was going to charge the door, so she moved to put herself in between the door and Genevieve. “Constantine and his men will make sure she is safe,” she said, hoping it was true. “If you go out there, you’ll only get hurt. I am not sure how many times I can tell you that.”
“But I must save Vivienne!”
“At the cost of your own life? What will happen to her if you die?”
That slowed Genevieve somewhat. She backed down but her movements were full of angst. Realizing that she was essentially helpless in all of this, she turned around, wandering aimlessly for the open windows. Smoke from the cannons was still wafting in but she didn’t seem to notice. Her mind was wandering to the chain of events and the predicament she now found herself in. Even though she’d quieted, she still had a wild-eyed, shocked look about her.
“Sweet Mary,” she breathed. “What I would not give to simply go back to Ireland.”
“Ireland?” Gregoria said. “Is that where you live?”
Genevieve didn’t say anything for a moment, her gaze on the storm that was blowing in over their heads. “I have for the past year,” she said. “My father has property there.”
Gregoria was relieved to see that the woman seemed to be calming. “I have never been to Ireland,” she said. “What is it like?”
Genevieve shrugged. “Like England,” she said. “The land is green, the people fair, only Ireland seems much more ancient to me. There are great mounds built by men thousands of years ago, and great stone monuments. I have a horse and I would go riding every day. I… I just want to go back.”
Gregoria could hear the wistfulness in her tone. “I am sure you will be able to, someday.”
Genevieve turned to her sharply. “As the prisoner of a pirate?” she snapped. “Somehow, I do not think they will let me go back to Ireland. They will probably sell me off to the highest bidder.”
Gregoria wasn’t sure if that was a possibility or not, so she simply kept her mouth shut. She was coming to the end of being able to comfort the woman and, soon enough, her real purpose for being here might come out. That would start the anger all over again. Just as she pondered what more to say to the woman, there was a loud bang against the cabin door. Rushing to the door, Gregoria put her hand on the bolt.
“Who comes?” she yelled.
“Open the door.”
It was Constantine. Passing a glance at Genevieve, wondering if the woman was going to rush the door anew, she threw the bolt and the door lurched open. It seemed at that moment as if everything in the world abruptly spilled into the cabin; Henry and Edward, the dogs, rushed in, barking and agitated, while Remy came in behind them holding three gray, scruffy-looking puppies in his arms. As he headed over to the bed to set the puppies down, a young woman was forcibly escorted into the cabin by Lucifer.
The woman was crying at the top of her lungs, wailing, and Genevieve rushed to the woman, trying to pull her away from Lucifer as she pounded on the man’s arm.
“Release her, you beast!” she howled. “Let my sister go!”
Lucifer released the woman, but only when he was ready to. Genevieve tried to charge him again, to kick him, and he reached out a long leg and blocked her kick, shoving her back in the same motion. She ended up on her knees near the table where the meals had been served and, because of the violent roll of the ship, there were items on the floor – a spoon, a tray, and a cup. She picked up the cup and hurled it at Lucifer’s head.
“You monster!” she cried, picking up the spoon and blindly throwing it at him. “You are a brutal, vile monster!”
The cup missed Lucifer, although barely, while the spoon hit him on the arm. All he did was frown at the woman and shake his head with great disapproval as he headed out of the cabin. Meanwhile, the woman’s sister was weeping hysterically. Genevieve scrambled off of the floor and went to her sister, throwing her arms around the woman.
“Are you well, Vivi?” she demanded. “They did not injure you, did they?”
Vivienne Efford, tiny and thin and dark-haired like her sister, shook her head. Genevieve kissed her and led her over to the bed where the puppies were starting to move around, sniffing everything.
“Look,” Genevieve said with gentleness no one had yet heard from her. “Look at your dogs; they are fine. You must take care of them.”
Sobbing, quivering, Vivienne sat on the bed and began to hug her puppies as Gregoria stood back and watched the scene. The sisters weren’t injured but they were both frightened out of their minds. Even though Lucifer had quit the cabin, Constantine was still standing near the door and when Gregoria looked at him, she was somewhat startled to see that he was staring at her. He just stood there and looked at her for a moment as Vivienne wept and Genevieve tried to soothe her. With the noise of sorrow in the background, Gregoria made her way over to Constantine.
“Are they really your prisoners?” she whispered. “What do you intend to do with them?”
His gaze lingered on her. “That should be of no concern to you.”
She looked at him seriously. “Forgive me, but it is,” she said. “I am very concerned for them. Please do not harm them. They are just young women and they are so very frightened.”
Constantine heard the concern in her voice. Although she understood the theory of piracy, the practice of it was something quite different. She had no idea how such situations were handled or how such deeds were carried out. But the questions didn’t bother him because he could see that she was genuinely concerned – not demanding, or bullying – but concerned for other human beings. That kind of compassion was rare in Constantine’s line of work unless it was from his fellow pirates with regards to each other. But seeing it from Gregoria towards women he only saw as part of the treasures of the merchant ship – somehow, it touched him.
“I am not going to harm them,” he said quietly. “But you must let me decide their fates.”
Her brow furrowed. “Fates?” she repeated. “Genevieve told me that all she wishes to do is return to Ireland. Can you not simply return them to Ireland? It would be the compassionate thing to do.”
Constantine wasn’t a man who took kindly to being questioned. All of his men knew that. But he was being amazingly patient with Gregoria’s questioning, mainly because he knew she wasn’t questioning his authority. Simply his intentions. Moreover, coming from her… it was different somehow. He realized that he didn’t want to upset or offend her.
“I want you to do something for me,” he said softly.
“What is it?”
Reaching up, he cupped her chin briefly. “Ease the ladies,” he said, dropping his hand. “There is drink in the cabinets. Give them some. There is also water in the corner, a barrel anchored to the deck with a lid on it. Give Henry and Edward some water to drink. Tend to every creature in this cabin and I shall return when my tasks are complete.”
His touch. God, even that slight touch to her chin sent bolts of excitement racing through her body. The man had the ability to turn her knees to liquid with merely a touch, and his voice… it had been gentle. Kind, even. In the midst of a battle, he was calm and cool and patient with her. It was all quite disorienting but all quite wonderful. When she spoke, there was a quiver in her voice.
“I will,” she said. “Did… did you really attack her father’s ship? Genevieve, I mean. She said you attacked her father’s ship.”
Constantine thought he needed to make things clear. His business was his business, and it was no concern of hers. She was curious, frightened about what was happening and concerned for the young women, but now her questions were bordering on disapproval and he didn’t like it.
He didn’t like seeing disapproval i
n her eyes, especially when it pertained to him.
“What I do is my own affair,” he said, rather defensively. “Just because I am escorting you to Wales does not mean that my business stops. You, on the other hand, will do as you are told. Nothing I do concerns you and you would do well to remember that.”
Reprimanded, Gregoria lowered her gaze, her cheeks warm with embarrassment. Constantine was immediately sorry but he couldn’t bring himself to apologize or even ease his stance. She had to know her place and he wouldn’t tolerate her interference.
Even if her intentions were altruistic. Altruism and piracy didn’t go hand-in-hand.
… did they?
Leaving Gregoria in the cabin with the young women, Constantine fled and slammed the door behind him. Bloody Beard, whoever heard of an altruistic pirate? He’d be the laughing stock. He’d spent so much of his life going after wealth and making a name for himself that it was all he knew. Merchant ships like this – they were his life’s blood. The spoils from this ship would pay his men and be used for trade. It was necessary. In Perranporth, it was plunder like this that kept the local economy going when his men visited villages in the area and spent their money there. Gregoria just didn’t understand that it was more than stealing or looting – it was necessary to the economy of Cornwall, for the most part. It wasn’t as if Constantine derived some sick pleasure from his way of life. It was simply a means to an end – money to support him, his men, and his way of life.
Out on the main deck, the fight was dying down for the most part. His men had secured the merchant ship and were now bringing over the goods that had been stored in the hull. There was heavy smoke from a fire at the bow of the ship and Constantine moved to get a better look at it. It was quickly consuming the front of the ship and he could see Lucifer and Remy as they bellowed to the men to move fast and remove all they could before the ship burned up and sank.