Poseidon’s Legion

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Lucifer sighed heavily as he stood there, looking at his possessions. “Aye,” he muttered. “I am going somewhere.”

  Remy’s eyes widened with concern. “Where?”

  “Home.”

  Remy simply stared at him as if hardly believing what he was hearing. “But… why?” he asked. “Lucifer, what is going on with you? Why are you leaving?”

  Lucifer looked at him. “I cannot begin to tell you what is going on with me,” he said honestly. “All I know is that I cannot stay here. I must go home. I will remain here through dawn, to see if Genevieve washes up on the morning tide, but after that… I am going home.”

  Remy wasn’t sure how to handle any of this. He found himself wishing fervently that Constantine was here, for only Constantine could speak with Lucifer as a close friend would. Remy simply wasn’t that close to him although, over the past day, he had to admit he’d come to know the man better than he had in all the years he’d known him. He knew why Lucifer was leaving, even if he couldn’t bring himself to voice it.

  “Because of her?” he asked quietly. “Because of Genevieve?”

  Lucifer was staring at his possessions. “I cannot remain here any longer.”

  “But why?” Remy asked, distressed. “Did she encourage you to leave behind the life of a pirate somehow?”

  Lucifer shook his head. “Nay,” he said. He eyed Remy uncomfortably before continuing. “I suppose… I suppose she has made me think about so many things. I mentioned them to you this morning, a little. She has me thinking on my father and how the last time I spoke with the man was in anger. She has me thinking about my future and my legacy, as Wolverhampton’s heir. It would be shameful for the Earl of Wolverhampton’s heir to be a pirate, a lawless profession. I fear I have been lawless and shameful long enough. It is time to acknowledge who I am and take my place at my father’s side.”

  Remy understood somewhat. But he found it incredible that a woman should push Lucifer into acknowledging a past, and a future, that he’d kept so carefully hidden from men he’d lived and worked with for ten years. He was astounded at how much Lucifer had changed over the past few days, but they weren’t terrible changes. Remy sensed they were changes for the better. Any man willing to face the mistake of his past and to admit it was time for him to assume the responsibility of his legacy was a strong man, indeed.

  But he also sensed that Lucifer was running – running from Genevieve’s memory.

  “Whatever she said must have had great impact on you,” he finally said. “Lucifer, I am very sorry about this. About how things turned out. I wish I could say something to give you comfort.”

  Lucifer couldn’t let himself think too much on the loss of Genevieve because it threatened to fracture his carefully-held composure. “Do not be troubled,” he said after a moment. “And my name is Rhoan. Do not call me Lucifer anymore. I am leaving that man behind at Perran. He no longer exists. My name is Rhoan.”

  Remy smiled faintly. “Rhoan,” he said. “It seems strange to call you that.”

  “Sir Rhoan de Wolfe, Viscount Essington,” he clarified. “You may call me Essington if you wish. But Lucifer… he is dead.”

  Remy’s smile faded. “Lord Essington,” he said, using Rhoan’s full title. “It has been a privilege serving with you, my lord. At some point, I, too, will return home to face the sins of my father and to strengthen my family ties. And when I do, I hope that I will be able to call upon you. I should not like for our friendship to end.”

  Rhoan looked at the man. He’d always liked Remy and he knew the man would go on to do great things. “Nor would I,” he said. “You are more than welcome to call upon me at my father’s home in Wolverhampton. That is where I shall be.”

  Remy’s smile was back, extending a hand to Rhoan, who took it strongly. For a moment, they simply shook hands, each man thinking on what the future would now hold. Lucifer was dead, and Lord Essington had taken his place. Powerful, confident, and wildly rich from years of pirate conquest, Rhoan de Wolfe was returning home to face his father as a much different man.

  But he was also a man of great sadness with the loss of Genevieve, the woman who had changed his world. The old adage was true – sometimes it took years to effect a change, but sometimes, it only took the right person.

  Genevieve had been that person.

  “And Con?” Remy said after a moment. “Will you tell him where you have gone and why?”

  Rhoan nodded, releasing Remy’s hand. “I have already written him a very long missive, which I put in his chamber earlier today. It explains everything and I am sure he will understand. And – Remy?”

  “Aye?”

  “Vivienne, Genevieve’s sister… I cannot take her with me, but I want to make sure she is taken care of. Will you do this?”

  Remy’s eyebrows lifted. “What would you have me do?”

  Rhoan sighed faintly, turning back to the items on his bed. He heaved the satchel onto the floor. “Send her back to her father,” he said. “Send the girl back. Do not let her remain here.”

  “I will not.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I swear it.”

  The shouts of the sentries could suddenly be heard. As Rhoan continued with organizing his possessions for the return home, Remy headed for the window, noting a semi-clear view of the cove below as the fog rolled in, obscuring some of the area. He couldn’t see much, now with the sun setting.

  “What do the sentries see?” Rhoan asked.

  Remy shook his head. “I do not know,” he said. “The mist is rolling in again. I will go and see what has them excited.”

  Rhoan nodded, but his manner was unenthusiastic and depressed. He was still in command until he departed Perran and, until then, he had obligations to keep the place safe. “I would not have the cannons stand down tonight,” he warned. “Whatever caused the battle today may well be lurking out there, still.”

  Remy simply nodded as he quit the chamber, heading out to discover what the sentries had sighted.

  Meanwhile, Rhoan had put it all from his mind. He didn’t care about anything except his departure on the morrow. His satchel was packed with an extra tunic, an extra pair of braies, and a warmer tunic for when it grew cold. It was also mostly packed with coinage and treasure, making it very heavy. It wasn’t nearly all of the valuables Rhoan had coming to him, but Rhoan knew he couldn’t take everything due him. He could only take what he could carry and, literally, this was all he could carry. But it was enough loot to buy a small city, certainly enough to help him get a fresh start as Viscount Essington.

  He went through his satchel more than once as the room grew dark around him and he was finally forced to light a fat tallow taper. But that wasn’t enough light for his purposes, so he lit two. His mind began to wander in the darkness, and he found himself wondering what had become of his father and younger brothers.

  Rhoan adored his brothers, and they him, and he realized that he missed them very much. Rhett, Henry, and Liam were the best brothers a man could have, and he found himself wondering how his brothers had fared over the years – Rhett the strong brother, who was slightly dense but deeply loyal, and Henry the charming brother, and Liam the youngest and brightest of them all.

  He found himself grinning at the memory of young Liam who thought it would be a good idea to put a mouse in his eldest brother’s bed. When Rhoan nearly lay on the creature, he’d captured Henry only to have Henry quickly confess who had been the culprit. Rhoan had tracked down Liam, who had been about six years of age, and in punishment had tied the lad to a post in the barn, tickling his feet until he pissed himself and cried for mercy. When Rhoan’s mother, the Lady Imogen, had been told of the torture her youngest son was going through, she’d taken a very large switch after Rhoan, who’d been forced to run from his enraged mother.

  Aye, Rhoan found himself laughing at the memory of his angry mother and naughty little brother. He’d missed those days. God, what had happened to them? Had he really
become so arrogant and so foolish that he’d ruined everything he’d held dear? Was the folly of his youth to really cost him everything? Truth was, he was determined to find out.

  He was going home.

  Somehow, he ended up on the chair that Genevieve had sat in the day before when he’d tended her swollen ankle. He sat in the chair, feeling her presence, and putting his feet up on the very bench where her own small feet had rested. It made him feel closer to her, but it also made him incredibly sad. He was still sitting there when his chamber door creaked open and Remy was once again standing in his chamber.

  “Well?” Rhoan asked. “What were the sentries shouting at?”

  Had the chamber been better lit, Rhoan would have seen that Remy was once again looking pale and shocked. The man couldn’t seem to speak, as if he were hunting for words but nothing would come forth. Rhoan was rather curious about it, thinking it very strange. But that curiosity didn’t prepare him for what happened next.

  A miracle.

  “Lucifer?”

  It was a female voice, once Rhoan recognized immediately. He thought he was dreaming. But Genevieve came in after Remy, moving around the man and entering the room. She was disheveled, dirty, and pale, but she was very much alive. The moment her gaze beheld Lucifer, she burst into tears.

  “Oh, Lucifer!”

  Rhoan thought he was seeing a ghost. He truly did. In fact, he bolted out of the chair so fast that he ended up tripping over the bench, catching himself before he could fall completely. But the sound of Genevieve’s weeping was clearly not an audible apparition and he scrambled as fast as he could to get to her. It seemed like it took forever.

  But, suddenly, she was in his arms and he was holding her so tightly that he heard her grunt as he squeezed the life from her very bones. Genevieve’s arms went around his neck, her soft sobs in his ear.

  “You…” Rhoan gasped. “You’re alive!”

  Genevieve nodded, but she was still holding him with a death grip. “I am,” she wept. “I am, I swear it!”

  She wept in his arms as Rhoan held her, the expression on his face suggesting he’d just been given the greatest gift a man could ever receive. There was joy, but there was far more to it – elation. Hope. Gratitude.

  All of those emotions were on the surface as Rhoan held Genevieve. He could still hardly believe it.

  “God’s Bones,” he hissed, finally releasing her enough so that he could look her in the face. “What in the hell happened?”

  Genevieve was still holding on to him, the joy of their reunion filling the air like a thousand sighs of jubilation. As Rhoan touched her face, her hair, as if to convince himself that she was real, she spoke in halting sentences.

  “Curtiz took me,” she sputtered. “He came to my chamber and told me that you had summoned me. When he took me down to the cove, he must have hit me on the head because my next awareness was of being at the bottom of the skiff as he was rowing out to sea.”

  Rhoan had his hands on her face, seeing absolute terror and exhaustion in her eyes. “Vivienne told me that he’d taken you,” he said. “But where was he taking you?”

  Genevieve wiped at her running nose with her hand. “To the Spanish,” she said, hatred in her voice. “He said he’d sold me to the Spanish. But before they could take me away, they were fired upon. I tried to swim away but I ended up on a piece of wood, floating in the ocean. I thought I was going to die, but O’Murphy found me and brought me back.”

  Rhoan was greatly puzzled. “O’Murphy?”

  “Me.”

  Rhoan and Genevieve turned to the chamber door where Kelly was standing. He was lodged just inside the doorway, looking a bit embarrassed at all of the fuss going on. As if it were too personal for him to be part of it. When he caught Rhoan’s eye, however, he smiled weakly.

  “’Tis me,” he said. “I found the lass floating upon the waves. I thought she’d fallen from the Spanish vessel, but she told me what had happened. She begged me tae bring her back tae ye. So she belongs tae ye, does she?”

  Rhoan stared at the man, one of Shaw MacDougall’s captains. He didn’t know Kelly well, but he had seen a battle or two with the man. In truth, he was absolutely flabbergasted.

  “Then it was you?” he asked. “You were part of the battle we heard earlier today?”

  Kelly nodded. “Aye,” he said hesitantly. “We were in these waters and we saw the Spanish vessel. Rumor had it that the Spanish had been lurking around Perran Castle for the past few weeks. We came tae see for ourselves and chased the bastards off.”

  Things were becoming slightly clearer to Rhoan and the relief that he felt was beyond description. He pulled Genevieve into his arms, holding her tightly, so very grateful that she was alive. I have a second chance, he thought fervently. Thank God… I have a second chance.

  “God’s Bones,” he muttered. “Curtiz took you out to the Spanish, and my Britannia brethren happened to be in the same waters. I simply cannot believe it.”

  Genevieve was calming now, feeling safe and sheltered in Rhoan’s arms. It was the best feeling in the world, one she never thought she’d know again.

  “It is the truth,” she said, sniffling. “They chased the Spanish away and their ship was badly damaged. There were a good many cannonballs flying over my head.”

  Rhoan’s cheek was on the top of her head. She was damp and smelled of the sea. Lifting his head, he looked at Kelly.

  “We heard the cannon fire,” he said. “It was distant, but not so distant that we couldn’t make out an eleven-gun burst.”

  Kelly shifted on his feet, clearing his throat nervously. “Aye,” he said. “That’s what ye heard.”

  “The only ship in Shaw’s fleet capable of an eleven-gun burst is the Leucosia.”

  Kelly had an expression like a child caught stealing sweets. “That is true.”

  “She is moored in the cove,” Remy put in, seeing that Kelly was reluctant to discuss the ship. “She’s as big and beautiful as you remember. She suffered no damage in the skirmish.”

  Rhoan lifted an eyebrow, still fixed on Kelly. “What is the Leucosia doing so far south?” he asked. “She belongs to Shaw.”

  Kelly knew he had to come clean with the truth. He’d tipped his hand, anyway, when he brought the Leucosia into the cove, so there was no use in lying about it. He wasn’t in the habit of lying to his allies, anyway.

  “Shaw doesna want the beast,” he said truthfully. “He took her tae sea and barely escaped with his life. Ye know there’s been trouble with her. He’s tired of sailing a cursed ship and told me tae bring her back tae Perran and leave her.”

  Rhoan fought off a grin. “But she is a gift,” he said. “He would insult Constantine by returning a gift?”

  “She’s a curse and ye know it!”

  That caused Rhoan and Remy to burst into giggles. It was Rhoan who finally spoke. “Aye, she is,” he said. “A beautiful ship, but a curse. In fact, I wonder if the Spanish weren’t in my waters looking for her. They want her back very badly.”

  “They can have her,” Kelly said flatly. “Shaw doesna want the behemoth and I dunna believe Constantine does, either.”

  Rhoan released Genevieve, steering the weary woman towards a chair so she could sit down as he continued his conversation with Kelly.

  “If Con wanted her, he would not have given her up to Shaw,” he said. “She is quite a prize. But… I understand your predicament and I am grateful that you were in my waters to bring Lady Genevieve back. Had you not been, her outcome might have been markedly different. I owe you a great deal, Kelly. You have my thanks.”

  The conversation sobered as they veered back to the subject of the abducted lady. “Are ye appreciative enough tae take the ship back?” Kelly asked in a calculated move. “I canna return tae Scarba with her, so I must leave her somewhere. Shaw will have my hide if I bring her back.”

  Rhoan looked to Genevieve, who was gazing up at him, holding his hand tightly. He gently squeezed her fingers
. Kelly could have asked for the moon at that moment and Rhoan would have done everything in his power to retrieve it.

  “Because you saved Lady Genevieve, I will take the ship back,” he said. “Remy, make arrangements to move her up the coast to the River Camel. We hid her there once before and we can do it again. Con will have to decide what he wants to do with her when he returns. He will know that Shaw is wise to his tricks.”

  Kelly was vastly relieved. “My thanks tae ye,” he said. “But do ye mind if I tell Shaw that I left the ship on yer doorstep without ye knowing? He would find more satisfaction with that.”

  Rhoan smiled weakly. Any chance Shaw, or Constantine, had to one-up each other was an opportunity to be taken. The men were closer than brothers but when it came to nasty tricks, they labored to out-do each other.

  “Your secret is safe,” he said. “We will tell Con that you dropped the ship and fled.”

  Kelly grinned broadly. “Then I can return home with my head up,” he said. Glancing to Genevieve, he dipped his head politely. “I am glad we found ye when we did, lass.”

  Genevieve sighed with relief. She was glad, too. “If you hadn’t, I would now belong to a man named Amaro.”

  Kelly’s eyes widened, as did Rhoan’s. “Amaro?” Rhoan repeated. “Is that who bought you?”

  She nodded. “Aye,” she said. “That is what Curtiz told me.”

  “It was his ship you were being taken to?”

  “I would assume so.”

  Rhoan looked at Kelly and, suddenly, the two of them began laughing. Remy joined in, and soon the three of them were laughing uproariously. But Genevieve failed to see the joke.

  “Why do you laugh?” she asked. “What has happened?”

  Rhoan wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes. “Because we stole the Leucosia from Amaro de Soto,” he told her. “He always swore he’d get her back, which could have been why he was in these waters. He was looking for her. Hell, he probably thought that buying you from Curtiz might give him the edge in stealing something from Constantine in revenge for the Leucosia. But little did he know that it would be the Leucosia to thwart his plans.”