“I told you, David, I’m letting you get on with your life, and I’ll get on with mine.”
“Is this about Calantha?” I asked.
David stared down at the ground, not meeting Annie’s eyes.
Annie nodded. “She told me in no uncertain terms that there wasn’t room for a third person in her marriage, and that I’d better find myself someone else to hang on to, and how could a servant slut like me hope to find favor with a prince.”
David winced. “I like my wife less every day. Annie, sweetheart, you mustn’t take her to heart.”
“She’s said the same to you, hasn’t she?”
David said nothing which was almost a yes. Then he looked up, and this time he did meet her eyes. “Father said—”
Annie’s eyes hardened, and two red spots blossomed on her cheeks. “I don’t know what he said to you, but he told me to humor her and stay out of her way.” She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Yes, I know he said you could love where you wanted, but I won’t be meeting you in dark corners, waiting for a quick kiss when she’s not looking. I’d rather be gone. Make a new life for myself. I’ll see if my old job’s still open at the Twisted Skein.”
“You can’t!”
Annie stood as tall as she could, which meant all of five feet. “You can’t tell me what to do. You might be a prince and me a servant girl, but I’m no slut and I won’t spend my life as the bad smell under somebody’s nose. For a while I thought it was going to be a new life in Iaru, and when you said—you know—I was so happy, but I should have known things don’t work out like that for girls like me.”
David stood, mouth agape. “Annie, I . . . ”
“You’ll soon forget me. I hope she makes you happy.” She set off on the path to the edge of the Okewood.
David looked at me, imploringly. “What do I do?”
I honestly didn’t know.
“There’s not much you can do,” Corwen said, “unless you can appeal against the marriage. You haven’t consummated it yet, have you?”
David blushed and shook his head.
“Remember what I told you—don’t.”
“I wouldn’t dare. I told you, she’s an ice princess. I’d sooner marry a lump of rock. It would be more comfortable to snuggle up to. I must stop Annie from leaving.”
“She’ll not thank you for it. Not right now at any rate,” Corwen said. “Give her a little time to think about it.”
“But . . . she’ll be all alone.”
“We’ll see her safely to Plymouth,” I said. “And not to the Twisted Skein. She can go to the Ratcatchers, down by the water. It’s not as salubrious as the Skein, but Daniel Fairlow will look after Annie like he was her father, and he knows how to get a message to me if necessary.”
“I know the place.”
Sometimes I forgot David spent four years looking after my mother—our mother—in Plymouth. He likely knew every inch of the town.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t go after her?”
“Sort out the problem here.”
“Calantha?”
I nodded. “She’s probably lonely and sad to be away from home. Some people put up a front to cover up how nervous they are.”
“I don’t think Calantha’s like that.”
“You never know until you talk to her. Maybe she likes this marriage even less than you do, and she might know how to get out of it.”
“If I talk to her, aren’t I making a commitment?”
“Talking’s not your problem.”
“I know. I won’t do anything else. I swear.”
“You don’t have to swear to me.”
“I know, but it makes me feel better that you know. Tell Annie.”
Corwen handed me Dancer’s reins and patted David on the back.
“Come on,” he said to me. “Let’s catch up with Annie before she goes too far.”
* * *
We caught up with Annie quickly.
She marched along the track, eyes fixed straight ahead. We rode alongside her, Corwen on her right, me on her left. She said nothing, or rather her lack of words spoke volumes. A couple of times I saw her swipe away a tear with the back of her hand.
Eventually, she sniffed and said, “I’m not going back.”
“We’re not here to take you back,” Corwen said.
“In your position, I’d probably get away, too,” I admitted. “Though it would tear me apart to do it.”
“Yes, well . . . ”
“Would you like a ride? It’s a long way to Plymouth.”
“I know how long it is. When we realized we were free, I walked all the way here, never thinking I’d meet up with . . . I thought he was like me, rowankind. I didn’t realize I’d set my cap at a Fae Lord. A prince, no less.”
“He grew up thinking he was like you,” I said. “Then he discovered his parentage. My mother never told him he was her son, even though he looked after her when she lay dying, as faithful as any son could be. He knew his father was Larien, but he didn’t know Larien was Fae. None of us did. Larien lived in our household and came and went as we’d never normally have allowed a servant to do, but no one noticed. We were truly bamboozled by his Fae magic.”
“Why would he do that?”
“It was all part of the Fae plan to transfer the stolen power back to the rowankind. He needed a Sumner to do it.”
“That was you,” Annie said. “And that’s when we all woke up to the fact we needn’t be bondservants anymore.”
“Exactly. So why do you want to go back to the place where you were a bondservant?”
“It’s all I know. The missis wasn’t too bad, and the master never put himself about with any of us.”
“Have you got any money?”
“Ten shillings.” She said it proudly. It didn’t come from the Fae, they had no use for money. I wondered how long it had taken her to save it when she was a drudge at the inn.
“Don’t go back to the Skein. I have a friend who has the Ratcatchers, on Southside, close to Sutton Pool. If I ask him, he’ll give you a position and look after you.”
“The dockside inns are rough. I won’t do more than servant work.”
“Of course not. You’ll be safe with Daniel.”
She nodded. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind a ride now, if you’re still offering.”
“Come up on Timpani with me.” Corwen relinquished a stirrup for her to mount and reached down a hand.
* * *
As we got closer to Plymouth, I began to feel the shiver that told me the Heart of Oak was already in the harbor. We’d drop Annie off with Daniel, and leave Dancer and Timpani with him, and then be off across the Atlantic as fast as my weather power could take us. We’d done the crossing to Bacalao in eleven days once. I thought I could beat it.
“Are you sure you’ll not be recognized in Plymouth?” Corwen asked.
I’d grown up there and was still wanted for murder. It was a long story, and it was probably justified, but I’d been young and inexperienced in magic, and when faced with redcoats pointing a pistol at Will, I’d panicked. It had been Will who’d put his sword through one of them, but I’d caused a wind to bowl them over like ninepins, contributing to the death of a young lieutenant.
“It’s close to a decade ago,” I said. “I wouldn’t care to draw attention to myself, but if we ride straight to the Ratcatchers and go on foot from there to Sutton Pool, we should be all right. Dan won’t give us away.”
We rode straight into the inn yard and Dan, hearing horseshoes clattering on his cobbles, came out to meet us. His face creased up when he saw me. “Cap’n, come in, come in. And your friends, too, of course. Let Dicky take your horses. He’ll give ’em a good rub down and a feed.”
Dancer whickered appreciatively.
“Dan, this is Annie.” I put both hands on the girl’s shoulders and nudged her forward. “She finds herself in need of a place to stay and a job. She’s a good worker, used to the innkeeping trade, and I’d be really obliged if you could treat her as your own.”
“Well, I can probably use a little help around the place. Can you cook, Annie?”
“I can keep a pot of stew bubbling until it sticks to your ribs, but I never learned anything fancy. I can scrub pans, though, and light fires, and empty chamber pots, and polish brass, and sweep up.”
“Then we shall get on famously.” He looked up at Corwen. “Do I remember you, sir?”
I laughed. “You might, Dan. This is Corwen. We weren’t on such good terms the last time you saw him.”
“I do recall you had him on the wrong end of a pistol.” Dan’s eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter.
“I did. But he grew on me. We’re married.”
“Well, congratulations to the both of you. That’s worth popping a cork on a bottle of the best.”
“Rum,” I said to Corwen.
“Aye, and I have a very reliable supplier.” Daniel winked as if I should know already.
Oh, no, not the Heart. Was she carrying smuggled goods? Had I called her into a port crawling with excise men? Damn! I immediately felt guilty, then indignant. Hookey should know better.
29
New Trade
I WOULD HAVE run to Sutton Pool, but I daren’t attract attention, so Corwen and I strolled arm in arm as if we hadn’t a care in the world. Rather than turn us invisible I used a slidey-eye charm. People could see us, but they didn’t take any notice as long as we did nothing to draw their gaze. I kept getting slightly ahead, but Corwen gently pulled me back.
“Slow down. What do you think you can do to protect Hookey from the excise men if they already know there are smuggled goods on board?”
I shook my head. I didn’t know.
“And if they don’t know, then a few more minutes won’t hurt.”
He was right. I took a deep breath, wondering whether to congratulate Hookey on his business acumen, or take him to task for endangering my ship. But at least half the blame was mine. He’d never have put into Plymouth if I hadn’t called the Heart.
We cut through from South Side Street to the New Quay. The Heart of Oak was tied up there. Even after two years I still felt a pang in my belly to think I was no longer her captain.
Corwen patted the hand I had looped through his arm. “I know what you’re going to say. Yes, she is beautiful. I may not know much about the sea and sailing, but even I can appreciate her clean lines.” He cleared his throat. “Is it my imagination, or are there more men on deck than usual?”
“More than I would usually put on watch in port.”
“They don’t look as though they’re on watch. Most of them are lolling about.”
“Anything else would look suspicious, as if they had something to watch out for.”
“Ah, I see. So they have got something on board they don’t want the excise men to find.”
“It looks like it to me and may look like it to the excise men.”
I didn’t recognize the crewman next to the gangplank. “Permission to come aboard?” I shouted up.
“State your business.”
I couldn’t very well tell him who I was. There were too many ears on the dockside. Luckily, I didn’t have to. A tall black figure pulled the crewman to one side and said something to him in a low voice that sent him scurrying away.
“Permission granted, ma’am.” Mr. Rafiq grinned at me and gave a very proper half-bow to me, and then to Corwen as we reached the top of the gangplank. It wasn’t for show, he was always that formal.
“Mr. Rafiq, nice to see you again.”
“Captain,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry the new crewman didn’t know you.”
“No problem. I’d much rather they were cautious. Watching out for official visitors, are they?”
He cleared his throat in a manner that said yes.
“I thought so. Is Hookey aboard?”
“I’ve sent young Lemon to tell him you’re here.”
“Another new crewman?”
“We let twelve men go when we last docked in Bacalao. They didn’t think they could take to life aboard a merchantman.”
“I paid ’em off; no hard feelings.” Hookey came up behind me. I’d already heard his boots on the companionway, so it was no surprise.
“They’ve gone back to pirating,” he said. “Likely heading for Auvienne. Come below. Billy! Tea for our guests.”
“Aye, Cap’n.”
“Auvienne,” I said. “Who’s in charge there now James Mayo’s gone?”
“That bastard Old Nick.” Hookey stood back to allow me and Corwen to go down the companionway first. “A bad day for pirating when Gentleman Jim went down to Davy Jones. He was a bastard as well, but not as bad a bastard as Old Nick. At least you knew where you were with Jim. Old Nick’s unpredictable. Does things on a whim. No rhyme or reason, and he’s cruel. Gives pirating a bad name.”
Hookey had been on Jim’s crew before joining the Heart, and there was no love lost between them. Mayo had never forgiven him for switching his berth.
“I’m sorry to hear it, Hookey.”
“Aye, you and me, both.”
I’m not saying cruelty was something foreign to either pirates or privateers. It was the occasional act of outrageous cruelty that actually made life easier. Most merchantmen were no match for a pirate ship. They knew if they gave up without a fight they’d lose their goods, maybe even their ship, but they’d escape with their lives. Since most ship captains owned neither their cargo nor their ship, it made sound sense to surrender and live. When the Heart had been a privateering vessel, we’d used that ruse many times, only rarely having to resort to violence of the bloody and fatal kind.
But Nicholas Thompson offered safety in return for surrender and then went back on his word, torturing and killing for pleasure. Any captain who knew his crew would receive no quarter would be more likely to fight to the death. I would in their position. A slim chance of escape was better than no chance at all. Thompson—Old Nick—wasn’t doing anyone any favors, least of all himself.
We’d reached the captain’s cabin, once mine and now Hookey’s. He waved me to the sagging armchair I’d liberated from a ship we’d taken the year after Will died. Corwen sat on the edge of the bunk and Hookey perched on a three-legged stool.
Lazy Billy clomped down the stairs and nudged open the door that Hookey had left ajar. “Tea for the cap’n, Cap’n.”
He had a tray in a cradle that he could carry one-handed, a blessing on board a ship in rough weather. This wasn’t the kind of afternoon tea served up in polite households. This was a hefty brew, devoid of milk but with sugar and a tot of rum. Good rum. The brew tasted as if it had been sitting on the back of the stove since morning. It probably had.
Corwen took a sip and winced. I smiled. The tea tasted like home to me. I’d been seven years aboard the Heart, four of them with Will and three as captain.
“So . . . ” I looked at my mug. “Rumrunning now, are we?”
“A little private trading,” Hookey said. “When the opportunity presents itself. I’d rather not have brought it into Plymouth, though.”
“Sorry about that. If I’d known, I would have picked a quiet cove. Smuggling’s dangerous, Hookey. If you get caught, you’ll have your neck stretched and I’ll lose my ship.”
“You never objected to a little trade on the side when you were cap’n.”
He was right. It hadn’t seemed like such a bold step when I was robbing French shipping under Letters of Marque from the king. How far I’d moved on from the person I used to be.
“I don’t object to the trade. Smuggling’s almost an honest crime—at least no o
ne loses out except the government, and I have no great love for that institution, but I do care about my ship and my crew. I don’t want to see any of you transported or dancing the hempen jig on the gallows.”
Hookey pressed his mouth in a line as if trying not to say what was on his mind.
“Out with it, Hookey. What were you going to say?”
“It’s not only smuggling.” He shrugged. “I meant to write and tell you, but it’s not something you can put in a letter. We had a visit from a man who called himself Mr. Singleton. I’m damn sure that wasn’t his name, though. Said as how we had one of the best reputations of any of His Majesty’s privateers. He wanted to entrust us with a mission.” He put one finger to the side of his nose. “A secret mission. He showed me the king’s seal. We were to make contact with Lady Henrietta Rothcliffe, a respectable widow from Rye. She had reason to meet up with gentlemen of the smuggling persuasion on account of having a load of wool bound for the French markets where the prices are good for English wool.”
“Selling wool to the French is illegal,” Corwen said, his clothier’s background suddenly jumping to the fore.
“So it is,” Hookey said. “But it’s profitable. As is bringing good French wine and brandy back to these shores, and maybe a few barrels of the best Jamaica rum, too. Anyhow, at the same time as we make this honest exchange of goods, there might be letters and sealed packets to be delivered, no questions asked, and a fee for doing that.”
“Spying for England?” I said.
“I reckon someone else does the spying. All we do is get the results safely delivered to Lady Henrietta who passes them on appropriately. I gather she took over her late husband’s task.”
“I hope this Mr. Singleton is paying you well. I don’t suppose you’ll get treated more leniently if you get caught by the excise men.”
Hookey shook his head. “Mr. Singleton made it quite clear that if we get caught, he doesn’t know us.”
“What about Lady Henrietta? Can she be trusted?”
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