Robbie grunted, his thoughts whirling. Saban Rees… Sabre.
“He’s the captain of the Torriwr, a sloop out of Port Eynon Bay. He suffers nay fools and takes nay prisoners. And now he knows yer lookin’ for him. There are waggin’ tongues in Liverpool.”
Stunned but not truly surprised, Robbie cursed. “Port Eynon Bay? That’s back across the sea,” he supplied, annoyed that he would have to take another journey on another ship before he could face the man.
“Aye, tis why word got to Rees before word got to ye…” Now Berks was being a nuisance to the highest order.
“I did not think it would spread so fast…but there’s little I can do about it now,” Robbie murmured, rubbing at the scruff of hair along his jaw.
“Ye’d be wise ta head back ta England and never speak of this again. The Ganwyd o’r Mor are ruthless…and Sabre is the leader of only part of those in the faction. The Rees…they be smugglers. Never been caught. Not in forty years. And they will kill ta keep from the hangman’s knot.”
“If they are so notorious, how was it my father could never find them?” Though…his father had only begun his search for the Rees before his accident, which left him crippled and bed-ridden for more than two years. It had taken sheer stubborn will to relearn to walk again, and by then, he was in no shape to hunt down pirates.
Berks eyed Robbie incredulously. “Tis no surprise. Few speak of them for fear of losing their tongues or their lives. The Rees are famously infamous—among those who live to speak of them.” Again, Berks looked on edge, as if speaking about the Rees in private could make them materialize in the room with them.
“Damn,” Bruce blurted, staggering to his feet from where he’d collapsed on the only cot. “What’ll we do now, Robbie? We can’t sail to Port Eynon—back the direction we came, damn you—without getting ourselves strung up and gutted.”
Robbie’s taut anger snapped. “Then stay here, you coward! I would be better off without your drunken arse slowing me down. Have you no sense of preservation, man? By Mary’s tits you’re about as useful as a cock in a snake pit.” As soon as Robbie spoke the words, his wrath dissipated; his friend’s face was mottled and his lips were drawn into a thin line.
“You damn well know I could best any one of those men downstairs with my eyes closed and my arm missing.”
Sighing, Robbie ran his fingers through his hair, the slide of the hair along the small of his back seemed to draw the strength from his body. Suddenly exhausted, Robbie scrubbed his hand over his eyes.
“Aye, I know, Bruce. Tis the trepidation talking.” That seemed to appease Bruce enough for the anger to drain from his face. Dipping his head in silent apology, Robbie turned his attention to the thin, balding man standing with his hand out—palm up.
“Tis touchin’, really, but I need ta be on my way. Need ta make myself scarce for the next fortnight.”
“Berks…thank you for the information.” He pulled a leather purse from beneath his waistband and opened it, handing Berks five gold coins.
Once the agitated man left, Robbie turned from the now green-faced Bruce to stare out the window—where the grime hadn’t obscured his view of the dock. Ship masts and billowing canvas bobbed above the water, making the sea seemingly alive with frothy waves of white and wood.
From behind him, Bruce asked, “What are you planning?”
Bruce was right to wonder…
“I will find Saban Rees.”
After a long, tense silence, Bruce asked, “But why? What’s this Rees done to you?”
Shrugging, Robbie answered as simply as he could. “He has done nothing to me.”
“Then why this dangerous scheme?”
“Honestly… I do not know. Perhaps…I want to look upon the face of the man who changed the course of my father’s life. Perhaps I just want to kill him.”
Read the rest of THE RAVISHING REES by Rosamund Winchester
The Marauder (Pirates of Britannia Book 11) Page 19