Tears of the Sea

by Marylu Tyndall

  Were there no gentlemen in this place? Perdita wanted to cry. She couldn’t. So she screamed and slugged him across the jaw.

  Blinking, he stumbled back, rubbing his cheek. “Where’s your gills, mersmaid?”

  “You’re mad! Get away from me!” She surveyed what was left of the crowd. Most simply stared at her, smiling as if she were the afternoon entertainment. A few of the serving maids gaped at her in horror. Finally the thin man from behind the desk appeared, pistol in hand, and pointed it straight at Verrad. “Lay off her, you besotted oaf, or I’ll put one through your skull.”

  Eye twitching, Verrad gave a disgruntled huff and slunk back into the shadows. The owner lowered his weapon and turned away. Relieved, Perdita scanned the floor for the sack of shoes, when the portly man who resembled a puffer fish grabbed her arm.

  “I’ll save ye. Come on to Bernie, littl’ darlin’.” He plopped down at a nearby table and pulled her into his lap.

  Just as Savion charged into the tavern.

  His eyes shifted from her ripped gown and her bared skin to the lecherous grin of the man who clutched her. Her heart raced at the sight of him, then plummeted at the disgust on his face. She was about to appeal for his help when he shook his head. “You promised, Perdita.” With that, he marched out of the tavern.

  Perdita kicked the obese clod in the shin over and over. Yelping, he shoved her to the ground and limped away, mumbling. “Taint no woman worth that.”

  She longed to run after Savion and explain what had happened. She longed to tell him how good she had been. Instead, she crumpled to the floor and watched two cockroaches devour a meal of spilt ale.

  What would be the sense? He wouldn’t believe her anyway.

  After a few minutes, an elderly woman with curls poking from within a white mobcap—who Perdita assumed was the owner’s wife—wrapped a cloak around Perdita and led her away. But what did it matter? Savion would forever think she was nothing but a tramp.

  ♥♥♥

  “Come join us for a drink,” a voice beckoned Verrad from the dark corner. He wouldn’t have gone except he thought he heard something about a drink. Stumbling, he dropped into a chair and peered through the shadows at a man dressed in fine silk with Caestrian lace bubbling from his neck and cuffs. The waning candlelight revealed dark hair streaked in gray, a cultured beard, and jewel-laden fingers, along with a pretentious grin. Two large well-armed men sat on either side of him.

  “Rum,” Verrad shouted to a passing wench.

  She slammed a sloshing mug in front of him and held out her hand. The finely-dressed man flipped her a coin.

  Verrad took a sip. “I thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Gund.”

  “So, you know me.” Pride etched the man’s voice.

  “Everyone knows the second most powerful man in Erden.” Now, if only the man would stop spinning in Verrad’s vision.

  “I couldn’t help but notice we have a common interest.” Damien took a puff of his cigar and blew the smoke over Verrad.

  He batted it away. “We do?”

  “The mermaid, you fatwit.”

  “I knew it!” Verrad slammed his fist on the table, drawing glances his way.

  “Quiet, you fool!” Damien hissed.

  “When I saw you in Kadon, I knew Perdita had to be the mersmaid you were looking for.” Verrad slumped back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. “But I don’t think so anymore. I tossssed water on her and no tail appeared. I tried to make her cry and no pearls. And now, theres were no gills on her side where they were supposed to be.”

  “Seems you’ve done your homework on mermaids.”

  “Of course.” Verrad gulped his rum. “She plans harm to my captain. It’s my duty to protect him.”

  “That do-gooder Savion?” Damien snorted and his men chuckled.

  Verrad set his mug down and leaned forward. “He’s a great man.”

  “He keeps getting in my way. Showing up to save her when I am about to finally capture her.”

  Verrad belched. “I’ll agree with you on that. He won’t listen to reason when it comes to the wench.”

  Damien puffed on his cigar, the ruby on his hand twinkling in the candlelight. “So, what is it you want with her?”

  “Nothing. I wish to protect my captain.” The chair wobbled, or was it the room?

  Damien chuckled. “It has nothing to do with those pearls you spoke of earlier, I suppose.”

  Verrad grinned. “Perhaps.” He tried to focus on the man. If only Savion had agreed to Natas’s offer, he would be even more powerful and wealthier than this bloated fool. Why had he turned it down? He constantly proclaimed that his purpose was to help others and do good. Think of the good he could do with all that power!

  Damien slapped Verrad on the back, nearly toppling him. “How fortuitous that your captain brought both you and the mermaid here to me.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “I propose a deal, my new friend.”

  Friend? Friend to one of the most powerful men in Erden! Things were looking up for Verrad. “What deal?”

  “The mermaid knows you. You can lure her into my trap.”

  Verrad snorted. “As you saw, she doesn’t trust me.”

  “But she trusts your captain, does she not?”

  Verrad sipped his rum, forcing his numb mind to think. The wench did trust Savion. She would do anything he asked. “What do I get?”

  “What is it you want?”

  No one had ever asked Verrad that before. He took another sip and allowed the pungent liquor to warm his throat. What did he truly want? Riches, yes. Power, of course. Women always. But most of all, Verrad wanted Savion to rule. The man was destined for it. Verrad wouldn’t even mind being his second-in-command. Yet repeatedly, Savion resisted accepting the power that was his due. Why? It was beyond infuriating. No, Savion was far too humble to ever take his rightful place. All he needed was a little push from Verrad.

  Chapter 24

  Through all the heartbreaks Perdita had suffered, through all the pain of rejection, this final one by Savion was the worst of all. The look of disappointment and disgust on his face would forever be imprinted on her mind. No doubt it would haunt her in the endless years to come, reminding her she would never be good enough. Even when she tried. And she had tried. She’d tried so hard to be good. But her past, her curse, and her lies had all caught up with her. Surely, her crumbling heart didn’t have the will to keep beating much longer. If only death would find her—set her free! But she knew it wouldn’t. She would live with this pain forever. Until it drove her completely mad.

  Her feet as heavy as bricks, she plodded down the street, hugging herself. The tavern owner’s wife had been kind enough to provide Perdita with a new gown, albeit a rather large gown that even now dragged in the dirt. No matter. She had nowhere to go. In fact, she had no idea where she was heading, save out of town and away from people. She couldn’t face the Ackers’s scorn when she told them she’d lost the shoes. One more look of disapproval would be the end of her. Instead, she would search for a pleasant spot in the hills bordering the town where she could spend her last two days in peace. Perchance King Abbas would grant her at least that.

  Scattered rain drops fell. Lightly at first. Then it seemed the skies unleashed whips of rain to punish her. Zost! Clutching her skirts, she slogged through the mud forming on the street.

  A splash sounded behind her. Whirling around, she wiped water from her eyes. Verrad’s tall dripping form appeared out of the torrent. She backed away. “Stay away! I warn you!”

  He held out hands of surrender. “Do not fear me. I came to apologize.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard your apology before.”

  “I don’t blame you for not believing me. Or trusting me.” The rain lessened to thick droplets that plopped into puddles around them. “I truly thought you were a mermaid and a danger to Savion. I know now I was wrong.”

  She took another step back. “Please, just go.”


  Standing there, dripping wet, with his dark hair flattened on his head and his eyes no longer filled with spite, he looked like a little boy who’d somehow lost his way. “He’s hurt,” he continued. “A loose tackle fell and struck him in the leg. Haddeus says it’s broken, so he sent me.”

  “Savion?” Alarm sped through her.

  “Yes. I explained to him what I did, that what he saw in the tavern wasn’t your fault, and he wants to apologize.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “Why didn’t he send Petrok or Hona? He knows I won’t come with you.”

  “They are readying the ship to sail. Remember, I’m only a deck hand now.” One side of his lips lifted.

  “He’s finally leaving town, then.” She swallowed down the pain.

  “Tonight.”

  This was her last chance to see Savion. To explain everything and mayhap see approval—even affection—beam from his eyes. She had no hope of anything more than that, but at least she would take good memories with her to sea.

  “Very well.”

  Verrad smiled and gestured back toward town. “Follow me.”

  ♥♥♥

  Savion couldn’t get away from Mirkesh fast enough. Too many Malum roamed the streets, he sensed no need here that required his help, and he couldn’t get Perdita—barely clad in the arms of that sailor—out of his mind. She had said she loved him, just as Lorelei had done. Lies! All of them lies. How could any woman love one man and then turn around and give herself to another—many others? Though his heart felt like mashed yams, Savion was glad he’d entered that tavern when he did. Now he knew without a doubt he’d made the right decision.

  Pacing in his cabin, he reached the bulkhead and spun around. Still, why did it hurt so much? Perhaps once he was back out to sea and on to his next mission, thoughts of Perdita would fade, and he would find peace once again.

  He longed for her to turn away from the mess she’d made of her life through her selfishness, vanity, and lies and find the abundant life offered through being honest, kind, charitable, and moral. But he knew now that his hopes would never be realized.

  She would never change.

  Which was why he must get as far away from her as he could.

  If only he could get some sleep and be rested for the morning’s travels. Instead, he found himself pacing endlessly through the night. Sometime in the dark hours, he fell into a chair, head in hands, but couldn’t shake his emotions. He tried to feel the power in the medallion, to hear what his next step should be, to remember the words of his father, but there was nothing.

  As sunlight speared the stern windows, the expected change to his dour mood never came. Instead, a headache grew and he started pacing again. Finally, a knock sounded on his door.

  Hona, Nuto, and Petrok stood before him.

  “Verrad hasn’t shown up?”

  “No, Captain.”

  Verrad. Did the sot have to go drinking and carousing in every port town? His wayward purser was the reason Savion ran into Perdita in the first place.

  “We won’t wait for him,” Savion said. “It’s dawn and we must be away. Have you loaded the goods on board?”

  Hona nodded. “We should make a decent wage transporting them to Jamak.”

  “Good. We need the money. Let’s get—”

  Verrad burst into the cabin, his shirt unbuttoned, his breeches stained, and his hair out of place. “It’s Perdita.”

  Though his heart clenched, Savion held up his hand. “I don’t want to hear it. Petrok, weigh anchor and make all sail.”

  “Aye, Captain.” Petrok shot Verrad a look of disdain in passing.

  “But, Captain—” Verrad urged.

  Savion turned to his quartermaster. “Hona, set a course north-by-northeast for Jamak.”

  “Aye.” He started for the door.

  “What you think you saw in that tavern wasn’t true, Captain.” Verrad’s voice held an unusual panic.

  Hona halted and turned. Savion marched to his desk. “I said I didn’t want to hear it.”

  “It’s Damien Gund. He’s the one who ripped her dress. He shoved her into the arms of that sailor. She was only there delivering shoes for the cobblers you placed her with.”

  Savion studied Verrad with suspicion. “How do you know this?”

  Verrad sighed and rubbed his temples as if they pained him. “Because I was there. I was sitting at a table in the shadows—quite drunk I might add.”

  Savion drew close. The stench of stale alcohol permeated his clothes. That much seemed true. As for the rest of it …

  “It’s true, Captain.” Verrad shifted blood-shot eyes between Savion’s. “I swear.”

  “Why help a woman you tortured when you thought her a mermaid?”

  Verrad released a heavy sigh. “Because I regret my foolishness. I was wrong, and this is one way I can make it up to her.”

  Conflicting emotions tromped through Savion. “What is that to me? As long as she’s back safe with the Ackers, she’ll be all right.”

  “That’s just it, Captain. She’s been kidnapped by Damien Gund. He captured her last night and sailed away on his ship, the White Crypt.”

  Chapter 25

  The ship canted and the irons yanked Perdita’s wrists, scraping her skin raw. Creaks and groans of wood rose to join the slosh of water in the barrel she stood in. An ache wrenched down her arms and across her shoulders from being chained to the hull above her head. A continual throb pulsated across her back from being slammed against the edge of the barrel. But it was the wound in her heart that would be her undoing.

  The ship righted itself as the purl of the sea joined the rats squealing and scampering about the hold. It had been a day—a long, torturous day—and she’d long since gotten used to the stench and the darkness. But not the rats.

  Nor the incessant itching from her drowned legs.

  She should tell them they didn’t have to soak her legs in water in order for her to transform into a mermaid. That would happen tomorrow all on its own. Then Damien would have his proof.

  And his revenge.

  No doubt he had plans on how best to enact that revenge: using her as a carnival exhibit, mining her for tears, forcing her to heal his wounds until she had no strength left. And when he was satisfied, he could always give her to the Malum to torment endlessly.

  But the worst part was, she couldn’t even release the tears heaping up behind her eyes. She wouldn’t allow herself to cry and give Damien the pearls he sought.

  Lantern light on the ladder preceded the clomp of boots, and Perdita braced herself for more of Damien’s gloating tirades. Did he never tire of punishing her? For a man of such power and wealth, she assumed he’d send down one of his lackeys to spit on her and strike her face. But apparently she was special enough to warrant the derision of the man himself.

  “Hello, my pretty mermaid.” His voice was caustic as he held up the lantern to inspect her. “What? No tail yet? And here I thought you were at the end of your time on land.” He stopped and studied her. “Oh yes, I see you are surprised that I know about that.” He tapped his head as if a massive brain protruded from it. “I’ve spent many years trying to figure out how you could have spent so much time on land with my father.” He hung the lantern on a hook and studied her. “And I’ve talked to the relatives of some of your victims—Geeden Tyne’s son, for one.”

  Perdita flinched at the name.

  He sneered. “You do remember Geeden Jr., don’t you? You tried to bury him alive in a cave.”

  Perdita wanted to tell him that Geeden was a horker and wasn’t man enough to rescue his cat from a tree. “I don’t know who you are talking about nor why you have me in this water. You’re clearly mad.”

  The strike came hard and swift. The force of it shoved her head to the left as pain radiated across her cheek and down her jaw.

  He shook his hand. “Then, there was my father, of course. Raynar Gund. You do remember him?”

  Perdita swallowed the sudden sha
me that clogged her throat. Sails thundered overhead and the deck tilted. Damien leaned on a post for support while the irons bit at Perdita’s skin. Of course she remembered Raynar. Ivan twenty-eight. Though it had happened twenty years ago, the memory was as fresh as if it was yesterday.

  Thankfully, he’d been much more attractive than his son. But what had happened to him, what she’d caused … She shook her head and shriveled at the hatred seething on Damien’s face, made all the more hideous by the shifting lantern light. Mayhap she should tell him her side of things. Mayhap he would see reason.

  “You didn’t mean to leave him in the middle of the sea?” he asked.

  “Nay. Nor did I know he would dive in after me.”

  “Finally you admit what you are.” He took up a pace, bristling and fuming like a caged bull.

  She had tried more than once to get Raynar to sacrifice himself for her. She’d leapt in the path of a charging wild boar, forced herself to trip and fall down two flights of stairs, “happened” upon a nest of killer ants. But each time he either pretended not to notice the threat or bumbled so much in his rescue attempt that he never risked his life. They were heading to Simar to get married, but a storm delayed their progress. Perdita knew her time as a human was at an end, so she slipped into the sea at night, hoping Raynar would give up looking for her. Of course he would. He had more than proven he was not the courageous type. How was she to know he would spot her in the distance and dive in after her?

  “I didn’t ask him to come after me. I didn’t want him to—”

  “You little vixen!” Damien slapped her again. She spit out blood. “Do you know what was left of him when his crew finally hauled him aboard?”

  She didn’t want to know. She had smelled the blood from a mile away.

  “One leg and part of his torso.”

  Nausea rose in her throat. She’d seen the shark approach but couldn’t get to him in time. If only Raynar had risked himself an hour before. Just an hour earlier and she would have become human again. But she hated herself for even thinking that now.