by Ruth Kaufman
“I found a better life,” she retorted. “I got away from this godforsaken ship and crew and found someone who loves me.”
“Loves you? Arrrgh,” he growled. “Ye are talkin’ about that scarred king’s cur aren’t ye?”
“That man’s name is Garrett, Father. And he is my husband.”
“Husband?” His mouth turned down in a frown. “Husband!” With the tone of his voice, she knew he wouldn’t be congratulating her any time soon.
This infuriated her father more than anything, and she wasn’t at all sure he wasn’t going to hit her in anger.
“Mama,” cried Edgar, coming to her side. She picked up her son and held him to her chest protectively.
“So ye coupled with yet another nobleman hev ye?” He laughed heartily. “Well, mayhap this’ll only add te me plan.”
“What plan?” she asked. “You make no sense.”
“Sebastian,” he called to his first mate. “Sail te Devonshire.”
“Devonshire?” asked Sebastian. “Why there? ’Tis risky goin’ down the channel with all the Cinque Ports ships watchin’ fer us. We should stick to the North Sea.”
“’Tis the risk we’ll take,” he answered. “I’m an old man and I want te live happily and be rich fer the rest of me life. And I know jest the man that’ll pay the huge ransom I’m goin’ te demand.”
“You’re not selling my son,” she told him. “And why would you even think a noble would pay any money for a child that is half pirate?”
He laughed again, and this unnerved her. He had a maniacal look in his eyes that she’d never seen before.
“Echo, though I’ve enjoyed yer time with me, ye were never the son I wanted. And I am too old te wait fer yer boy to grow up. I’m sorry daughter, but I’m not only goin’ te ransom the boy, but I’m goin’ te ransom ye as well.”
“What?” she asked. “Garrett won’t pay you ransom, not after you killed his brother.”
“Not that fool,” he said. “Besides, he doesn’t have the kind of money I’m going to demand. I’m talkin’ about the lord of Blake Castle in Devonshire.”
“You make no sense, father. No one is going to pay a ransom for a pirate.”
“No, but they will for a noblewoman and her son.”
“I may be dressed like a noblewoman, and act like one, but we both know ’tis far from the truth.”
“Not necessarily,” he told her. “And I have the proof that’ll make me rich.” He looked at her neck and his eyes opened wide. “Echo . . . where is your necklace? I tol’ ye te never take it off.”
Her hand flew to her chest and the spot felt so empty. “I don’t know,” she said. “It must have fallen off in my struggles with Filtch.”
“Ye fool!” The captain smacked Filtch on the side of the head. “I told ye te make sure te bring the necklace. Now I’ll not get my fortune after all.”
Filtch didn’t have time to react, as Sebastian called out from the helm of the ship.
“Cinque Ports ship coming up fast at the stern, Cap’n. She’s approaching on starboard.”
“Nay!” he shouted. He ran up the steps of the sterncastle, staring into the black of the night. He ran a hand over the beard on his chin in thought. “Shorten the sails,” he commanded.
“Cap’n?” asked Sebastian. “Are ye sure?”
“Aye,” he growled. “Slow down enough in order fer them te catch us. We’ll take the ship as well as any cargo their haulin’. It might be easier te get te Devonshire if we’re disguised and sailin’ on one of their own ships.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” said Sebastian.
Echo put Edgar down, then grabbed his hand and ran to follow after her father.
“’Tis Garrett,” she exclaimed. “He’s coming to get us.”
“Is it Daddy?” asked the boy.
“Aye,” she answered.”
“Not fer long,” said her father. “Say goodbye to your daddy, little one, cuz this time I am not going te be so careless. This time I am goin’ te kill ’im, mark me words.”
Chapter 17
“We need more speed,” shouted Garrett from the bow of the Cinque Ports ship. He stared into the darkness of the night, the partial moon lighting the sky occasionally as the clouds broke. “Silas, take us out farther and ride in on an angle to the wind. If we can catch the wind just right, I think we can overtake them.”
“Aye, captain,” said Silas, then shouted orders to his men.
“Blaise,” called Garrett.
“Aye, captain?” The young man came to his side.
“I want you up in the lookout to give me reports. Then when we overtake the ship, throw quicklime in their eyes to blind them. Just make sure you stay upwind.”
“Aye, captain.”
Garrett then instructed his men to use their weapons freely as soon as he’d secured the boy’s safety.
“Damn,” he ground out, knowing he set sail without a full crew. But he hadn’t had time to wait, and took what he could get on such a short notice. He only had about eight of his fighting men, and as for those who knew how to sail, he had even less. Another half dozen men would have really made a difference. But ’twas too late for that, and he would have to fight like the devil to make up for it.
His trick worked. The sail caught the wind at just the right angle and propelled his vessel forward. But the element of surprise was not going to work. He’d seen the pirates shortening their sails, and knew they were waiting for them. This was going to be a massacre, but he had to try.
“Prepare the grappling hooks,” he cried. “And secure your weapons. Take no mercy, men, but remember our goal is to save the girl and child, not get ourselves killed in the process.”
His men rushed around the deck making the necessary preparations. His ship inched forward, moving alongside the Seahawk. He could see the pirates rushing around the deck, and he could also see Echo standing on the aft with her father and little Edgar.
“God help us all,” he whispered, knowing this was naught more than a suicide mission. To try to save a woman and child in the midst of battle was going to be more than distracting. He could only hope Echo was really on his side after all. Because if she had joined the pirates again, then this was going to be a very different mission. He didn’t even want to guess how it would end.
Echo could see Garrett on the forecastle of the Cinque Ports ship. The moonlight spilled down upon him, and lit up his hair with a bluish cast. He had his sword at the ready, one foot up on the crenel of the railing, his hand on the bowsprit. The Cinque Ports flag waved in the breeze from atop the pole next to him.
He was truly the heroic fighting man, coming to her rescue. But she couldn’t let him be killed because of her. Nor could she go back with him, knowing that he would lose everything – his position, his lands and his title, all because she was a pirate.
“Go back!” she shouted at him and waved her arm. “Turn around, Garrett, don’t do this.”
“Men prepare to board,” called her father, rushing past her to join his men. “We’ll crush these curs like maggots under our heels.”
“Mama, I’m scared,” cried little Edgar, and she picked him up to comfort him.
“Don’t be scared, sweetheart,” she told him. “I will protect you.”
“Is Daddy going to save me?” he asked, looking with wide eyes over to Garrett’s ship.
She didn’t know what to tell him. How could she answer that? Aye, he may save you, but in the process I will hang. Or nay, he is going to be slaughtered by your grandfather and we are going to be pirates forever. Either way, it wasn’t going to be pretty. But all she could do now, she decided, was to get Edgar to safety, and not worry what was going to happen to her. The best way she knew to do this, was to make sure the boy was in the hands of Garrett. He had the means to give her son a good life. He could also protect him. Even if Garrett lost everything else because of her – he would have his brother’s son to remember him by. He would have Edgar.
“Aye,
” she answered hurriedly, making her way to the furthest point of the raised deck. “He is going to save you and you are going to live with him for the rest of your life.”
“And what about you, Mommy? Is he going to save you, too?”
She heard the sickening thunk of the grappling hooks hit the side of the ship, and she knew this was it. It was too late for Garrett to turn around, and too late to even think there wasn’t going to be a battle, ending in the deaths of many.
“Honey,” she said, kissing her baby atop the head. “I want you to always remember that I love you, no matter what happens.”
“I love you, too,” said the little boy with a smile. She looked at his angelic little face and clear hazel eyes that reminded her now more of Garrett than his brother. Her son was going to grow up to look just like Garrett, and she hoped he would be as strong and brave as him as well. She engraved the face of her child into her memory, knowing that this would be the last time she ever saw him or held him.
“Aye,” she told him. “Your Daddy is going to save you. And I want you to listen to whatever he says and mind him well, do you hear me?”
He nodded and clung to her even tighter when the pirates let out a war cry. The boats were pulled together with the grappling hooks and lines, and the boarding began.
“Echo,” shouted Garrett, now atop the sterncastle of his ship, as the boats were side by side. Their sterncastles were so close that she could almost reach right over.
“Come on,” he called, motioning for her to climb the railing and board his ship. He held out his arms, while his men boarded her ship and fought the pirates. “Give me the boy.”
She hesitated when she heard what he’d called him, wondering if she were doing the right thing after all.
“Give me Edgar first,” he said, “and then jump aboard the ship yourself.”
She knew then she was doing the right thing, when she’d heard him call her son Edgar. She climbed the wooden railing, and as the sea rocked the boat beneath her, she kissed her son once more, then handed him over into the protective arms of Garrett.
Garrett collected his son into his arms and hugged him to his chest. “You are safe, Edgar, don’t worry.” He turned and saw Blaise on deck, dropping a large rock from the other end of the sterncastle, letting gravity take it to the deck of the pirate ship, hitting a pirate in the head. Another pirate climbed the rail, meaning to board their ship. Blaise then took a handful of quicklime from a bucket and threw it into the eyes of the man. The pirate screamed and held his face, and the boy took that opportunity to push him overboard into the sea.
“Good work, Blaise,” he called. “Now take my son to the hold. Hide him in an empty barrel and watch out for his safety.”
“Aye, Captain,” said the young man, rushing over and taking Edgar from him. He hurried below deck with the child in his hands.
With Edgar to safety, he turned to help Echo board, but to his surprise she was gone. He looked down into the water and then back to the main deck of the Seahawk. And then to his disappointment, he saw her climbing the rigging to the lookout on the pirate’s ship, making no motion to join him on his ship at all.
“Echo!” he screamed. “What are you doing?”
He knew she couldn’t hear him above the shouting of the men and the wind. He noticed that she’d chopped off the tippets and bottom of her gown and climbed with a sword at her side and a dagger between her teeth. She flipped herself into the mast basket when she’d reached the top.
“What in God’s name is she doing?” he grumbled. Then, with a shake of his head, he boarded the pirate’s ship as well, meaning to save her.
Echo settled herself into the lookout basket, able to see another ship quickly gaining on them at the stern. The ship was larger than Garrett’s or the Seahawk, and as it came closer she could see the flags of the Cinque Ports waving there as well.
“The Lord Warden,” she said, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She knew if he was in pursuit, it could only mean one thing. That he was here not to help her, but to capture or kill every last one of her father’s crew. Including her.
The mast rocked in the wind, and the place she had normally found solace now only brought her discomfort. Her stomach lurched and she hung her head over the side of the lookout. Against her will, she tossed the remnants of her stomach onto the deck below. What was happening to her? She’d never felt sick atop the mast before. She’d slept here, eaten here, and spent hours upon hours staring out at the sunset over the seas and it had never affected her like it did now.
Her stomach lurched again, and she knew she had no choice but to descend. She would never be able to escape or even fight if she didn’t shake this sick feeling. She looked down to the deck to see Garrett thrusting his sword through one of her crewmembers. Her father had managed to kill one of Garrett’s knights and was about to best another. Then, she saw Sebastian and Filtch lowering the small transport boat into the water.
She hurried down the lines and joined them. “Sebastian, another ship approaches. We won’t have a chance.”
“Aye,” he said. “Our only chance for escape is now. Come with us, Echo.”
She looked back to the deck now covered with blood, and then to Garrett who was fighting with Drogo. She could see Garrett was wounded, and his shirt covered with blood as well.
“You’re abandoning ship?” she asked the men.
“Damned right,” ground out Filtch, dropping provisions into the boat.
“I’ve been doing this too long,” Sebastian told Echo. “I don’t know how much longer I have te live, but I’ll not do it in a dungeon or be dancin’ the hempen jig at th’ end of a rope.”
“I can’t go with,” said Echo, drawing her sword. “And neither can you, Filtch.” She caught him by surprise, the tip of her sword at the small of his neck. “Sebastian deserves to go because he helped me escape with Garrett. But you are naught but a coward and a crimp. You have caused me naught but trouble and I will burn in hell before I let you get away after all you’ve done.”
“Spoken like a true pirate,” said Filtch with a smile. I’m glad ye didn’t turn all soft after all. Ye’ll always be a pirate in yer blood. And too bad yer lover jest got killed.”
“Nay!” She turned her head slightly to look at Garrett, and realized too late it was naught but a trick. Filtch pushed the tip of her sword away and unsheathed his own sword. They fought each other, the sound of the clashing metal bringing the blood pumping furiously through Echo’s veins in excitement. Filtch was right. She would always be a pirate in her blood, no matter how hard she pretended to be a lady.
Arrows of fire rained down upon them as the Lord Warden’s ship approached. The mast caught fire as well as supplies on the boat, the wind catching the flame and spreading it quickly. The previously dark deck now lit up so bright that you’d think it was day.
“Go, Sebastian,” she called, “or ’twill be too late.”
He climbed over the side and looked at her once more. “Are ye sure ye won’t come, Echo?”
“Nay,” she shouted, “now go!” And as she fought Filtch, Sebastian disappeared over the side.
“Ye bitch!” Filtch screamed, seeing his last means of escape disappearing. “I’ll kill ye fer this.”
Echo had never in her life had any trouble winning a fight with any of her crew. But her stomach lurched again when the ship rolled to one side, and it caused her to falter. This gave Filtch the edge, knocking her sword from her hand and out of her reach. She hurriedly dove for it, but he kicked it away with his foot. When she reached for her dagger, he pressed the sharp tip of his blade to her throat.
“I wouldn’t if I were ye,” he told her, causing her to stop.
Fire now blazed all around her and she heard Garrett shout to his men to cut the lines of the grappling hooks before his ship was burned as well. The acrid smell of smoke filled her nostrils, making her want to vomit again. Her stomach clenched. The smell of death hung in the air, and she looked
up to see her lookout basket atop the mast now burning like a night torch.
This was the end for her and she knew it. Her past life went up in flames, and her future life – she wouldn’t have a future any more. She thought of little Edgar’s face, and prayed that Garrett would take good care of him. Then the horror hit her as she realized Garrett was now trapped upon the burning ship as well. She couldn’t die. She had to fight. She had to do this for Garrett and Edgar.
“Say goodbye, sweetums.” Filtch smiled his broken-tooth smile, not the last sight she wanted to see before she left this world forever. She reached for her dagger anyway, closing her eyes, not wanting to see the sword as it plunged into her body. But instead of feeling his blade, she heard the thump of his body as it hit the deck.
Her eyes sprang open to see Garrett pulling his sword from Filtch’s back.
“Echo, sweetheart, are you alright?”
He reached out for her, but she saw her father raising his sword from behind him.
“Behind you, Garrett,” she cried, just in time for him to lift his sword and block a deadly blow.
“I finally get to fight you,” growled Garrett, “and I will kill you for the death of my brother.”
Echo hurriedly got to her feet, now feeling the intense heat of the quickly spreading flames. She looked up and saw the mast starting to teeter as it burned, threatening to give way.
“Garrett, we need to get off the ship,” she shouted. “The mast is ready to fall.”
He ignored her as they fought, each clank of their swords sounding to her like a nail being pounded into a coffin. But whose coffin would it be? Garrett’s, her father’s, or perhaps her own? Mayhap all three.
“Baron Garrett, hurry!” she heard a voice and realized Lord Warden and several of his men had boarded from the bow of the ship which was not yet consumed by fire.
Garrett fought like a madman, and because of her father’s age, she knew he was tiring when Garrett knocked his sword from his hand. Garrett got him to the ground, and without a weapon, her father now lay at his mercy.