Ma was right. This curse they shared seldom led either of them astray.
“How can it be that you’re so sure?” Fergus demanded, peering suspiciously at the rocky slabs. “I can track as well as any men, but there is nothing there to be read.”
“Ah!” Anselm said with a smug smile. “Then perhaps you aren’t as good a tracker as you thought.” Reclaiming his horse, Anselm swung himself easily into the saddle. “Come on. Let’s ride. We need to close the distance before nightfall.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Catherine wasn’t speaking to her, and Miriam didn’t blame her.
Throughout the interminable hours of their nightmare ride, Catherine had overheard enough to learn where the blame for this whole terrible affair truly belonged. With Miriam.
Their camp—or prison, rather—for the night was a small, shallow cave that positively reeked of desert dogs. Without listening to the princesses pleas, the pirates had bundled them inside the cave—throwing in a couple of threadbare blankets for good measure—before returning to the business of setting up their own camp for the night.
For once, there was little chat and banter. The pirates were visibly weary after the long day’s ride, as were they all.
Still dressed in her filthy night shift, Miriam plucked the blankets off the sandy floor. Being cold, she was grateful for a covering of any kind.
“Which one do you want?” she asked, brightly, holding both blankets out to Catherine. “The blue one is the thickest.” Miriam sniffed at each blanket in turn, wrinkling her nose as the foul stench of stale body odor filled her nostrils. “But the gray one is perhaps a little less smelly.”
From where she sat with her back pressed to the cave wall, with her arms wrapped protectively about her bent knees, Catherine regarded Miriam with all the hostility of a coiled snake, and barely half the warmth,
“Which blanket do I want?” she sneered. “Which blanket do I want?” Her voice escalated to a shriek. “Neither. You have them. Keep them both for all I care! What I want is my own blanket, and my own bed, and my own tent; a hot bath; my maid, and a comb to rid myself of all the bugs I’ve picked up today.” Catherine scratched frantically at her rumpled blond locks. “Ugh. I can feel hundreds of horrid little legs crawling over me.”
Miriam sighed. “Let me take a look—”
“No!” Catherine held up her hand, warding her off. “Keep away from me, do you hear? You silly, stupid little goose. This entire mess is all your fault. What were you thinking, encouraging the attentions of a bloody pirate? Are you quite mad? What did you imagine the outcome of your sordid affair would be, hmm?”
Heartily ashamed, Miriam hung her head and allowed Catherine to say what she would. Each well-deserved word stung like a lash from a whip. But however sorry Miriam was, it wouldn’t help. Catherine would never, ever, forgive her.
Even so, Miriam was sorry—heartily sorry—and she needed to say the words out loud. “I’m so so—”
“Oh, save your breath, little sister. What use have I for a worthless apology? Were it not for your selfishness we would still be safely on our way to the Norlands.” Illuminated by the final rays of the setting sun, Catherine’s eyes burned with blue fire. “Who knows what hellish fate has befallen the rest of our family, thanks to you.”
“But I… I thought I loved hi—”
“Love? Hah!” Catherine’s smile was as bitter as her words. “You sell yourself too cheaply, sister dear. Having met your idea of the perfect man, I cannot imagine why you were ever against an arranged marriage. If only you had trusted Rodmar to select a husband for you. You could have been the wife of a mighty lord one day. Whether the fellow was ancient or not does not signify. Anyone would have been a better choice than him!”
Miriam’s eyes stung with unshed tears. They might never be close friends, but she could not bear to be at odds with her sister. Especially not now when the two of them were all they had.
“Catherine, pleas—”
“Well, congratulation, little sister because the delightful man you wanted so badly is all yours. What does it matter that he ranks even lower than the underbelly of the smallest snake? At least you’re happy.” Catherine smiled grimly. “Perhaps you would do me the honor of introducing me to the rest of the crew, for surely no decent man will ever want me now. I’d rather be the wife of a pirate than forced to live the life of a whore.”
“Stop it. It won’t come to that.” At least, Miriam hoped it wouldn’t. “Rodmar will pay any ransom to get us back. You know he will.”
The fire within Catherine’s eyes dimmed a little. “Perhaps,” she said quietly. “But even id he does you and I will still be utterly ruined. What decent man will ever want us now?” With a sob, she rested her forehead upon her crossed arms. “It would have been more merciful if they’d killed us outright.”
Her anger spent, Catherine suddenly broke down, her slim shoulders quaking with the force of her silent misery. Miriam wanted to weep herself, but she didn’t deserve the luxury. Instead, she carefully draped the warmest of the blankets about her sister’s shoulders and then gently tucked it about her legs.
“Go… away,” Catherine begged.
With a heavy sigh, Miriam took the remaining blanket and, throwing it about her own shoulders, she went to stand in the mouth of the cave, looking out at the reddening sky. Two men stood guard outside the cave’s mouth and they eyed her warily. Shivering, Miriam clutched the threadbare blanket more securely about her.
Winter was coming. She could smell its cold breath on the air.
Long suppressed tears slipped silently down her cheeks. Oh, by all the blessed spirits, what was to become of them? How could she possibly hope to set things right?
After picking a frugal supper of dried meat and cram—both of which Catherine refused, although she did take a goodly share of the wine they’d been given—Fabien paid a visit to their prison cave.
“Good evening, ladies,” he said with a polite bow, for all the world as if they were acquaintances meeting again at some formal banquet. “I trust you enjoyed a good supper? Your accommodation is not too uncomfortable, I hope?”
Catherine glared at him with unveiled loathing and, maintaining her vow of silence, she turned away and pulled the blanket over her head.
“Oh, is your poor sister indisposed? What a pity. In that case, perhaps you might care to keep me company on a brief walk in the moonlight, Princess Miriam.”
“Fine.” Anything to get out of this stinking hole for a while. Scrambling up from her stony seat on the cave floor, she swatted away Fabien’s hand when he offered it. “No, thank you. I can manage.” Determined to emulate Catherine’s haughty coolness, Miriam stalked outside ahead of him. Let him say his piece and go.
“I’m sorry it had to come to this, Miriam, but you left me with no other choice.”
No other choice. She suddenly thought of Anselm, his words from a previous conversation filling her heart. “There’s always another choice,” she snarled, her intention to stay calm washed away in a fast-moving flood of rage. “Why did you have to kidnap Catherine, too? She’s an innocent in all of this. She didn’t betray you, Fabien. I did.”
“Ah, but the king’s full-sister has more value than, say, a half-sibling.” At this, he grinned broadly as if he had just made some witty jest. Miriam clenched her hand into a fist, desperately wanting to slam it into his handsome nose and bloody him. How could she have ever considered this man as her lover?
“You mercenary bastard!”
Fabien shrugged. “A man has to make a living somehow, sweetheart.”
“I am not your sweetheart.” Not anymore. If indeed she ever had been.
Ignoring the raucous jeers of the crew sitting by the camp fire, their spirits much enlivened by their grim supper, Miriam stalked away closing her ears to the lewd comments that followed her. Her cheeks burned,
but somehow she managed to conceal her disgust.
Filthy dogs. She liked them better when they were hungry and tired.
She marched on, limping as small stones cut into the soles of her bare feet. But no matter how quickly she walked, Fabien would not be shaken off. Instead, he matched her stride for stride, his long legs easily keeping up. At such close range, his unwashed scent was quite overwhelming. Miriam wrinkled her nose. How long since he’d last bathed?
Pausing at the edge of the hill, Miriam looked out into the darkness. Not a fire or a friendly light burned anywhere. There was only the moon.
They were alone out here. Utterly, frighteningly, alone.
Fabien sidled up behind her. She stiffened as he wrapped his arms about her body.
“Don’t you love me anymore, dear heart?” he murmured, nuzzling her neck, his lips moving slowly toward her ear. “Say you love me again, my treasure.”
Miriam shuddered at his touch. The treasure. That’s what all this was about. That’s why Fabien had come after her. Not because he cared, but because of what he thought she could give him.
Not so long ago, this moment was everything she could have wanted. To be here with Fabien, alone in the moonlight. Now his caresses, which had once made her heart sing, only made her want to vomit.
“Stop mauling me, Fabien,” she said, at last, squirming away from the unwelcome exploration of his moist lips upon her neck. “I’m not one of your whores.”
“No, that you aren’t, Princess” Grasping her shoulders, Fabien spun her about to face him. “Look at me, Miriam. Look at me!” He shook her when she did not obey quickly him enough. Reluctantly, Miriam raised her head and met the bleak emptiness of his eyes. “Give me the truth now, and I will go easier on you. Is there any treasure left in the vault?”
“Yes,” she lied.
“Liar!” Without warning, Fabien lashed out in temper, the back of his hand connecting with her cheekbone in an explosion of pain. “I asked for the truth, wench. Try again!”
“S-Some treasure still re-remains,” she whispered, clutching her face, trying to blink away the stars. If he learned the truth, he definitely would kill her.
“More lies.” He struck her again, and this time Miriam saw the blow coming, though not quickly enough to avoid it. For a few seconds, she couldn’t see anything except a flash of brilliant light. She crumpled to the ground, her ears ringing, the metallic taste of blood at the back of her throat.
Without mercy, Fabien hauled her onto her feet. Gone was her dream lover. In his place was a man-shaped monster, smiling down at her.
“Now look what you made me do, sweetheart.” With all the care of a mother, Fabien carefully rearranged the blanket about Miriam’s shoulders, an action which made his earlier brutality seem all the more brutal. “Hurting you gives me no pleasure, Miriam. I care about you.”
Liar. She held back her tears, determined not to cry, but she could do nothing to stop her trembling.
“Now… I will ask you again. One last time.” Sweeping back his oily, black hair, Fabien leaned his forehead against hers. “Is there any treasure left in the vault?”
“S-Some. But my b-brother had the most valuable items removed just be-before he left.”
Fabien moved back, a muscle ticking within his black-stubbled jaw. “I see.”
As his hand clenched into a fist, Miriam momentarily flinched. Despising herself for showing weakness, she forced her shoulders back and stood proud, facing him. She was a daughter of kings, damn it! Let him hit her again and have done with it.
“I’m a reasonable man, Miriam, but the same cannot be said of my crew.” He stroked her cheek, brushing his fingers over her swollen eye. “Were they to hear rumor of what you have just told me, your hold on life would become… rather tenuous.”
“Then at least release Catherine. Please!” Miriam clutched at Fabien’s filthy shirt, prepared to do anything if doing so might secure her sister’s freedom.
“I’d like to, my dear, I really would, but if I did so life would become rather tenuous for me.” He smiled. “Alas, I am not one of your fine lords or knights. All things measured, I much prefer to keep my crew on the right side.”
“But you’d still have me.” Despite her pounding head, Miriam fluttered her eyelashes hoping Fabien was vain enough to believe he still held some power over her heart. “You’d protect me, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course I would. To the best of my ability.” His filthy fingers moved down her cheek, and it took all the strength Miriam had not to flinch from him. “But against so many, what could I do? I am just one man, after all.”
“Yes, but you’re their captain. Surely they’d listen to you?”
“Aye, to a degree. But it’s long been my opinion that a captain’s power is only valid until his first broken vow. In other words, I have promised the men treasure, Princess, and treasure they shall have. See?”
Oh, she saw, all right. Much more than she wanted to.
“So until your brother sends me the aforementioned treasure,” he continued, “I have no other option than to keep you and your sister as insurance.”
“I believe the term you’re looking for is ‘hostages’.”
Fabien shrugged. “Call it what you will, my dear. The fact remains, I’m not prepared to lose it all for some silly little chit who was too stupid to understand the consequences of lying to me.”
“So where are you taking us?”
“My ship is moored in a secluded bay further up the coast,” he said, gesturing in the general direction where his vessel might be found. “Once we rejoin the ship and the rest of the crew, we’ll set a course for a private little island I know. A safe harbor in an otherwise perilous world.” Fabien ran his thumb across Miriam’s lower lip then planted the briefest kiss upon her mouth. “If your brother cares for you as I hope he does, darling, the duration of your stay should be relatively short.”
“A-And if not?”
Fabien shrugged. “Then we shall have to alter our plans accordingly. You may not be as valuable as your sister, Miriam, but you are not without value. For the chance to bed a virgin princess, I know of many rich men who would gladly pay a king’s ransom. That is if your brother is not willing to pay up. But for your sake, I hope the king likes you a good deal more than your sister does.”
“I hate you.”
Fabien nodded approvingly. “Good. You’re learning, and not before time. Ah well. The hour grows late and tomorrow promises to be another tiring day. Perhaps you should rejoin your sister and try to get some sleep.”
Sleep? Hah! There was precious little hope of that.
For two days and a night, Anselm and his companions crept along the pirate’s trail. It took everything he had not to forge ahead, to heed the inner voice of experience when it bade him hold back. To observe. To wait.
“But they’re finally in sight, m’lord,” Percy cried when Anselm announced they were to set up camp for a few hours, for their horses were as weary as any member of their party. They all needed food and rest. Hugh and Fergus, of course, understood why they were stopping. The young squire, however, quite plainly did not.
“If we keep on doing nothing we’ll end up losing them,” Percy cried with passion.
“No we won’t,” Anselm replied calmly as he loosened his horse’s girth. “Their path is steep. For the sake of the ladies and the horses, they will be forced to travel more slowly today. Never fear, Percy boy, we shall soon have them.” Despite his words, Anselm was afraid for the princesses, especially for Miriam. Foolish, beautiful, misguided, Miriam.
“But, m’lo—”
“Your master knows best,” Fergus said, unexpectedly coming to Anselm’s aid. “We’ve been traveling all night and we all need rest, and this… ” He waved his hand to indicate the sparse grove of low growing trees that surrounded them, bathing the ground
with deep, blissfully cool, shadows “… is the only decent cover for several leagues. And see here,” Fergus gestured to the small freshwater spring bubbling up between the rocks. “We have a supply of good, clean drinking water, too.”
“But, m’lord—”
“Enough now, boy,” said Hugh in his kindly way. “We’ll wait out the daylight hours here and continue our journey at dusk.”
With a shrug, Percy led his sturdy little horse away, muttering crossly beneath his breath all the time.
Hugh chuckled as they watched him go. “Take no heed of his sour mood, Anselm. He’s a young man, after all. Well do I recall how it was back then, to be so bold and fearless, so confident in my abilities. I felt I was immortal. Percy will learn the reality of life soon enough.”
Perhaps. But secretly, Anselm shared Percy’s frustration. Foolhardy as it was, the same impulse to press onward consumed him. Especially now when, after so many tense hours of tracking, they finally had their quarry in sight.
Having brought Vadim’s spy-glass with him, Anselm had managed to catch a glimpse of the ladies earlier that day. He watched in dismay as they slowly ascended the steep mountain path. On foot, heads bowed, they had plodded wearily upward, all the while being harried by the pirate crew.
Both women had seemed utterly beaten. To see his feisty Miriam swiping her sleeve over her eyes had torn at the very fabric of Anselm’s heart. But for all of their sakes, he couldn’t afford to go rushing in. The price of a single mistake would be too costly.
There were too many pirates and not nearly enough knights to risk a direct confrontation. Especially since Anselm had noticed the cross-bow wielding mercenaries bringing up the rear of the party. All of them were hardened professionals to a man unless he was much mistaken.
Getting themselves killed would serve no one, least of all the princesses.
For that reason, as much as Anselm loathed waiting around, he was prepared to do so—aye, and for as long as it took. They’d only get one opportunity to rescue the fair hostages, and now was not the opportune moment, whether Percy liked it or not.
King's Errand Page 28