Poseidon’s Legion

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Here you are,” Remy yawned. “Where were you yesterday? I hardly saw you.”

  Lucifer shrugged. “I was busy.”

  Remy snorted. “With what?” he demanded as he collected his own cup of warmed wine. “I still want to know how you want to divide up the latest haul amongst the men. We will need to pay them while Con is away or he may not have any men to return to.”

  Lucifer watched Remy and Felix as they helped themselves to bread and wine, but his mind wasn’t on paying the men. It was on something much more important.

  “Do you think Con is satisfied marrying Gregoria?” he asked.

  Remy looked at him, surprised by the strange question. “You would know that better than we would,” he said. “You are closer to him. Why? Has he expressed dissatisfaction to you?”

  Lucifer shook his head. “He has not,” he said. “I was simply wondering on marriage in general. I cannot say I’ve seen many happy ones, although my father and mother were happy.”

  Remy fell silent a moment. “That is the first time I have ever heard you mention your parents, Lucifer,” he said quietly. “I was not sure you even had any.”

  When Lucifer realized he’d spoken of something from his past, he cleared his throat softly, struggling to cover the mistake. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized it wasn’t so much of a mistake. He knew Remy and Felix; they were both good men. He supposed it wasn’t a bad thing, after all of these years, to confide something personal. In fact, he had an urge to do just that.

  “I do,” he finally said. “My father is the Earl of Wolverhampton. Surprised?”

  Remy’s eyebrows flew up. “He is?” he gasped. “God’s Bones, Lucifer – I am truly astonished to hear that.”

  “Why?”

  Remy stared at him for a moment in shock before breaking down into a grin. “Because with a name like Lucifer, I was certain that Satan was your father and Lilith was your mother. Do you mean to tell me that your father is not the Devil, after all?”

  Lucifer shook his head, fighting off a smile. “I am sorry to disappoint you, but he is not,” he said. “My father is Wyndham de Wolfe, Earl of Wolverhampton, and I am his eldest son. I am sure that is much more than what you were expecting to hear from me this morning.”

  “You are Wolverhampton’s heir?” Felix said in awe.

  Lucifer nodded, glancing at the serious young sailor, a young man who really didn’t belong in this line of work. He was a knight, and a very good one, but his search for his fortune had brought him to the seas. But he wasn’t like most of the men, savage and bloodthirsty. Felix actually had strength of character.

  “I am,” Lucifer said after a moment. “Much as Con is the bastard of Henry, I, too, have noble lineage. As I was telling Genevieve yesterday, men in this line of work have great stories to tell, but some are greater than others. Now you know mine.”

  Remy and Felix looked at each other in shock. “I must say, I am quite astounded to hear it,” Remy said. “But, somehow, I’m not really surprised at all. You always had an air about you, Lucifer. There is something powerful about you and now we know why – it is the House of de Wolfe in your veins. The most powerful house in all of England, some would say.”

  “Aye, they would.”

  “But who is Genevieve?”

  Lucifer smiled weakly. “She is the eldest of our female captives,” he said. “Genevieve is the eldest and Vivienne is her younger sister.”

  “The one with the dogs?”

  “The one with the dogs.”

  Lucifer turned back to his bread for a moment while Remy and Felix eyed one another. There was something soft in Lucifer’s tone when he spoke of Genevieve, which was odd for him. In fact, this entire conversation with the man was odd.

  Usually quiet and mysterious, Lucifer wasn’t a man to simply come out and speak of himself, or even of a woman, which led Remy and Felix to think that there was something else going on with him, something out of the ordinary. This wasn’t the man they knew.

  Do you think Con is content marrying Gregoria?

  That question was the key to this entire circumstance.

  “Why did you ask if Con was content in his marriage, Lucifer?” Remy asked casually. “Surely you had a reason.”

  Lucifer’s defenses were down. He’d awoken happy and giddy, as if he wanted to shout it to the entire world, and it was a difficult state for him to be in. He wasn’t sure he wanted to spill his guts to Remy and Felix but, God help him, it was difficult for him not to. After years of not confiding in anyone, he could hardly restrain himself.

  “I did,” he said quietly. “But this is something that must stay between us.”

  That was something Remy had never heard from Lucifer, either, and he took it very seriously. It was either going to be a stunning revelation or a death-bed confession. Quickly, he turned to Felix.

  “Leave the hall,” he commanded. “This is not for your ears.”

  Young Felix rose from the table, preparing to leave the hall without question, but Lucifer stopped him.

  “That is not necessary,” he said. “Felix can remain. He is trustworthy and if he is not, I shall cut his tongue out and throw it to the fish.”

  It was not a threat, but a promise. Felix knew the man was fully capable of it and wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear what Lucifer had to say after that, but he also didn’t want to offend the man by leaving after he’d been told he could remain. Hesitantly, he reclaimed his seat at the table as Remy went to pour Lucifer more watered wine.

  “Then what is it?” Remy asked. “What is on your mind?”

  Lucifer sighed faintly, accepting the cup of wine from Remy. “That is a good question,” he muttered. “Men change, I suppose. That is what is on my mind. I never thought I would see Con marry, but he has. It seems to me that he was satisfied with it, marrying a woman he is fond of. I myself have never known such happiness.”

  Remy sat down, thinking on Lucifer’s words. “Nor I,” he admitted. He was very fond of women, and they of him, but he was one to toy with a woman more than take her seriously. “I’ve known several women in my time, but not one I would consider marrying. I am too young to marry.”

  “But I am not,” Lucifer said. “I am several years older than you are, Remy. Every man has a time in his life when he thinks of his legacy, I suppose. I am thinking of mine now.”

  “Are you thinking of marriage, then?”

  Reluctantly, Lucifer nodded. “Mayhap I am,” he said. “Con met his wife during the course of his life at sea, and I would imagine that I would, too.”

  “But the women we meet during our time at sea are not of the marrying kind.”

  “Some are.”

  “Who?”

  “Not all women we meet at sea are whores, Remy.”

  Remy wasn’t quite following him until, suddenly, a thought occurred to him and his eyes widened. “Genevieve?” he said with shock. He pointed to the ceiling, as if to point to the women on the floor above them. “Are you speaking of the merchant’s daughter?”

  Lucifer smiled faintly, amused at the man’s astonishment. “Is that so shocking?”

  Remy didn’t know what to say. For lack of a better response, he simply lifted his shoulder. “It is,” he said honestly. “Lucifer… she is a captive.”

  “I know.”

  “And you think to marry her?”

  Lucifer wriggled his eyebrows knowingly. “You do not know this captive,” he said. “She is no ordinary woman, Remy. I do not make this statement lightly. She is fierce and bold, but she is also kind and compassionate. She is intelligent. She is also extremely accomplished in her education. She will make some man a fine wife, so why not me?”

  Remy couldn’t honestly believe he was hearing such things. Serious, deadly, and mysterious Lucifer actually had… feelings? It simply didn’t make sense to him.

  “Are you feeling well, Lucifer?” he finally asked out of desperation. “Are you ill? Did you hit your head somehow an
d…?”

  Lucifer laughed softly, cutting him off. “I assure you that I am quite sound,” he said. “I have not hit my head, nor have I contracted a fatal illness. I suppose if I could explain it, let it be thus – I have spent the past ten years serving at sea among men I do not truly belong with. Unlike Con, I did not grow up on the sea. I grew up on land in a family of knights. It was my own mistake that led me to the abbey in Wales, where Con found me. My presence here, with Poseidon’s Legion, was because I was running from who I was and what I had done. I suppose I’ve come to realize that I cannot run any longer. All men must grow up, and this is my time.”

  By the time he was finished, Remy didn’t look so surprised. In fact, there was understanding in his expression. “I, too, was trained as a knight,” he said. “I came to sea because I wanted something more than what the knighthood can provide. Truly, Lucifer, to be an honored knight can mean a good deal of hard work and little opportunity to make one’s fortune. My father squandered away the family fortune, so I had no choice but to try and reclaim… something. It is not my time to grow up yet. I still like this life and the money it provides.”

  Lucifer nodded. “I like the life, too, but there is more for me, I think,” he said. “When I left my father those years ago, it was in anger. I’ve not spoken to him since. I am thinking that, mayhap, I should reconsider that stance.”

  “Do you believe he will speak with you?” Remy asked. “You’ve become something of a legend, Lucifer. Do you think your father, the earl, will be proud of what you’ve become?”

  Lucifer shrugged. “There is but one way to find out,” he said. “I am not saying I will go today, or even tomorrow, but someday…”

  He was cut off by the distinct sounds of distant cannon fire. Even deep in the hall of the castle, they could hear it through the lancet windows that were cut high into the walls for light and ventilation. Frowning with confusion, Lucifer looked to Remy and Felix, who looked back at him with equal confusion and, abruptly, they were all on their feet, racing for the hall entry.

  More cannon fire could be heard as they hit the bailey, rushing for the battlements just as everyone else seemed to be doing. Somewhere, there was a battle, drawing men to observe. The cannon fire was somewhat continuous and, as Lucifer ran, he counted the concussions – one, two, three, four, five, six… all in succession. They had heard at least four or five whilst in the hall, and even more now that they were outside.

  Panting with exertion, Lucifer and his men rushed the battlements where the sentries were peering out into the fog, trying to ascertain where the cannon fire was coming from.

  “Out there, m’lord,” one older pirate said with excitement. “I counted eleven bursts in succession. Out there!”

  He was pointing out into the fog, which was as thick as porridge. Lucifer held up a hand to silence the man because he wanted to hear any response to the initial burst. It wasn’t long in coming; six bursts came in succession but, after that, all was dead quiet. Not even the gulls were screaming on the beach. Quickly, Lucifer turned to Remy and Felix.

  “Remy, you go down to the cove and make sure the vessels are secure,” he said. “Quickly, now. And Felix – make sure every cannon facing to sea is loaded. Call the gun crews.”

  Remy and Felix were off and, already, the pirates on the battlements were moving. The gun crews were rushing to their cannons and the powder monkeys, the young boys who had a very dangerous job, were rushing forth with bags of gunpowder. Lucifer continued to stand on the wet battlements, listening, hearing nothing but silence beyond the fog.

  “Eleven bursts, m’lord,” the old pirate was still standing there, reminding him.

  Lucifer was lingering on that very fact. “I heard them,” he said. “In quick succession, meaning there had to be eleven cannons loaded and firing. Ships do not fire from both sides at once unless it is an extreme battle.”

  “Then it was eleven cannons from one ship,” the old man said.

  There was only one ship capable of such an action that Lucifer knew of. “The Leucosia?” he muttered, baffled. “Is she out there? If so, who is she firing at?”

  It was a very good question, one he didn’t have answer to and until the fog lifted, he wouldn’t. It would be suicide to launch a ship under such murky conditions and he needed to keep his men, and his fleet, safe. But… if the Leucosia was in danger, then he needed to go to her aid.

  … But against whom?

  He would soon find out.

  Chapter Nine

  Genevieve gradually became aware of gentle movement, like a child being rocked gently to sleep in its mother’s arms. To and fro, to and fro. As her consciousness returned, so did a badly aching head.

  Forcing her eyes open, she could see that she was lying on the bottom of a small boat. The sides sloped up and the bottom, where she lay, was wet. In fact, the entire left side of her face was wet and she struggled to push herself up, grabbing hold of the side of the boat because everything was rocking about so badly, including her head. The pain was so bad that she could barely open her eyes.

  “So you have awakened,” came a male voice. “That is good. We should be at our destination soon.”

  Genevieve took a deep breath and forced herself to open her eyes, seeking out the source of the voice. Curtiz was forward in the boat, two oars in his hands as he rowed steadily through the murky waters. In fact, everything around them was murky and foggy for the most part, although it seemed to be lifting. It was brighter and less misty than it had been. Genevieve collapsed against the side of the boat, looking to Curtiz for answers.

  “What happened?” she asked hoarsely. “Where are we?”

  Curtiz was rolling steadily. He had a small device on the bench beside him, something round and metal, and he glanced down at it as he rowed.

  “We are heading towards new destinies, for both of us,” he said. “You are to meet your new masters soon.”

  Genevieve put a hand to her aching head, feeling a great lump on her skull that was very tender to the touch. She winced. “What are you talking about?” she demanded. “Where is Lucifer?”

  Curtiz looked up from the round, metal object beside him and began to look around in the fog. “Back at Perran Castle, I would assume,” he said. “My lady, let me make myself plain – you are a captive. You are a prize to be bought and sold and, at this time, I am selling you. The money I get from you will allow me to begin a very comfortable life elsewhere, away from Poseidon’s Legion and away from the sea. Hopefully, this will be the last time I ever do business upon the water again. I am going back to land where I belong.”

  Genevieve’s swimming head was processing slower than it usually did but, after a few moments, she was coming to realize that something was very, very wrong. As that awareness settled, so did fear.

  “You are selling me?” she repeated. “But… but Lucifer said he was not going to sell me!”

  “He is not selling you – I am.”

  She was hugely confused. “Then he knows nothing about this?”

  “Nothing at all.”

  Stunned, Genevieve stared at him. “Then you lied when you came to my chamber.”

  “I did.”

  Her blood ran cold. “Who are you selling me to?”

  Curtiz stopped rowing and picked up the round, metal object at his side. As he held it up, Genevieve recognized it as a compass.

  “To the Spanish,” he said. “A man named Amaro, who should be here shortly. He is paying me a great deal of money for Constantine le Brecque’s prized captive.”

  The story was now becoming clear and Genevieve was shocked to the bone. She was also terrified. “You are mad,” she hissed. “Take me back to Perran this instant and I will not tell Lucifer what you have done. Whatever made you think you could do something like this?”

  He looked up from his compass, his expression suggesting he didn’t like her tone. “Mayhap Lucifer tolerates your unruly mouth, but know that I shall not,” he said. “I would suggest
you sit quietly. I do not wish to turn over a prize that has been bound and beaten.”

  Genevieve struggled to put distance between them. “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “If you do not wish to discover the truth to that, then I suggest you behave yourself.”

  With that, he turned back to his compass and to their surroundings. The only sound was that of the rolling sea and the tiny boat as it creaked and groaned. Never taking her eyes off of him, Genevieve backed up all the way to the rear of the vessel, putting as much distance between her and Curtiz as she could. Wet and cold, she huddled at the back of the boat.

  She was wildly confused with all of this. So the man was abducting her from Perran and selling her to the Spanish? It was a shocking, brutal realization. But in that same thought, Genevieve acknowledged that every man at Perran Castle was a pirate, including Lucifer. They assumed this harsh, mercenary life for a reason. But Lucifer had shown her the man beneath the pirate façade, the deep well of manly traits and emotion that led Genevieve to believe that he was human, after all. He was human.

  But Curtiz… he wasn’t like Lucifer. He was only in it for the money, the same attitude that Lucifer had towards her when they first came to know one another. He’d called her a commodity, and she was. He’d threatened to sell her and Vivienne to the highest bidders. But even if Lucifer had backed down on that threat, there was clearly someone who had been thinking the same thing. Someone she hadn’t been able to soften and get to know.

  Someone who was selling her to the Spanish.

  Think, Genni, think!

  Somehow, she had to get out of this. She had to fight her way out of it. She couldn’t simply surrender to this barbarian. Struggling to clear her head and calm her rolling stomach, Genevieve had to assume they were heading away from the shore, logically, but she didn’t know anymore than that. If Curtiz could tell her where they were, then perhaps she could leap from the boat and swim back to shore.