Quintspinner (38 page)

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Authors: Dianne Greenlay

BOOK: Quintspinner
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“Secondly, none shall strike another while on board the ship, but every quarrel–”

“Carlos!” Tess’s voice rang out. The effect was immediate. All heads swiveled in her direction. The sudden silence was unnerving. The sound of her own frightened breaths seemed painfully loud to her.

Carlos stared at her, his uninjured eye resting upon her and sending a cold chill down her spine. He waited for her to speak again. Tess’s mouth was dry and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her head buzzed. It was several heartbeats before she could utter her next words.

“I have come to strike a bargain with you, on Edward’s behalf. Let us be. Take your treasures but leave all of us unharmed, and in return I will let you live.”

Stunned by her own words she thought,
Dear God! What am I saying? That is not the bargain I had intended to offer!
She had voiced aloud the whispered thoughts in her head.

Carlos’s eyebrows arched in surprise. Then he began to chuckle, his surprise at her challenge turning to glee as a wicked smile spread lopsidedly across his face. The sound of the laughter that exited from his injured throat set the hairs on Tess’s arms on end–it was a series of high pitched, screechy whistles and gasps, unlike anything Tess had heard coming from a human being’s mouth. His injuries had to be painful, yet Carlos hardly seemed to be taking notice of them.

“A deal?” he squawked. “You offer my life for yours?”

“Your life, if you spare us
all.”

Carlos stepped forward, his putrid breath causing Tess to choke back her revulsion.

“And if I refuse …?”

He was calling her bluff. If she showed any fear or hesitation, Carlos would win. Speaking clearly, with a bravado that she did not feel, she asserted, “Then you will die slowly but most certainly, of your pustulant wounds. As will all of your injured crew. A fitting end for you, perhaps, but not one, I am thinking, that you will want to be remembered for.” The man’s arrogance suddenly seemed as blatantly apparent to her as his rotting breath.

Carlos seemed to consider this for a moment and then inquired, “So what are your terms?” His voice was light with amusement–this woman, claimed as she was by Eduardo, greatly intrigued him. Few men had ever stood up to him, and never before had a woman shown such courage in his presence.

“First, untie my sister and grandmother and let them be covered. A
gentleman
such as you should not tolerate such immodest treatment of women.”

Carlos still grinned at her. “And then?”

“And then they will be allowed to help me in the sick bay, to tend to the injured, yourself included, to save those that we can.” She felt a flicker of hope as the pirate captain continued to stare at her. She had his attention. “And allow the
Mary Jane’s
crew to repair her,” she continued, her words picking up speed, “and finally, when this has been done, you will agree to board your own vessel, taking only your desired items from our cargo in the hold, and you will sail away from us.”

The ruby spinner had set up a fierce itch around her index finger and Tess had been unaware up to now, that she had set all the rings into motion, nervously spinning them, so intent had she been upon her deal with Carlos. She laid the fingers of her right hand across them, stopping their movement, and rubbed furiously at the itch. At the same time, Carlos’s countenance suddenly changed.

You will survive this by reason,
the by-now familiar whispers in her head announced. Wishful thinking or not, Tess found the thought reassuring.

“Now here is my counter offer to you,” the pirate smiled. “I will set the women free. One will help you, and one will accompany me on board the
Bloodhorn.”

“No! That’s not–” Tess interjected.

“Yes it is!” Carlos countered just as quickly. “I shall take your servant back with me,” and he swung his gaze towards Cassie, his intent unmistaken in his visual assessment of her half naked body, “for … collateral.” His eyes lingered on her for a moment longer before he returned his gaze to Tess.

“She’s not going with you! You cannot take her!” Tess argued shrilly.

“Oh, but I can, and I will. However, as to those not wishing to formally join with us, I shall spare them for now, providing of course, that each proves to have skills worthy of the food and water it will take to keep them alive.”

“And what would your
wife–Evangelina–think
of you, taking another woman onto your ship?” Tess spluttered, desperate to appeal once again to Carlos’s self judgment as being a man of good conduct and manners.

“Ah, Edward wasted no time in his explanations to you, did he?” Carlos stepped back and tucked his chin in, the gesture a haughty one. “Evangelina is just that! A wife. A wonderful wife, but one who I am with no more than one return visit per year. She is not a mistress. She is
a wife,”
he emphasized. “Intimacy does not factor in so much to marriage. I love her neither more nor less for that.” He sighed, registering Tess’s look of outrage. “You are young. It is known to all worthy women that a man has needs.” His gaze hardened and he glared at Tess.

“Your servant will be transported over to the
Bloodhorn,”
he said with an air of finality. “And now that our negotiations have finished, you must uphold your end of the bargain.”

“Release the women!” he barked, his voice intended to be commanding, but producing only a raucous rasp. His chest was heaving with the exertion of drawing breath through his bruised vocal cords; their swelling was persistently narrowing his windpipe.

“Ferry the servant back over to my quarters, and send the large one to sick bay with this one.” Turning to Tess, he threatened, “Your servant will come to no harm, as long as my vision and voice are returned to me.”

Breathing hard, he grabbed her by her upper arm. He seemed to be using this grip to support himself upright as much as to steer her towards the open hatch which led down to sick bay. He stumbled, nearly pulling Tess off her feet. Recovering, he stood still for a moment, swaying slightly as he attempted to catch his breath. His next words were slurred as the lack of air began to dull his abilities.

“Where’s Eduardo, hmmm? Wha’ have you done with him?” he asked as he brought her hand up to his lips. Too late, Tess realized the gesture exposed her rings; their gems sparkled fiercely in the early morning sun. Carlos stared at her hand and grasped it hard, holding it close to his face. “Ah, Eduardo adorns you ver’ nicely I see. It’s a good thing for you, I think, that you are already spoken for by him, or ….” He shrugged and the corner of his mouth lifted in a lecherous sneer. Even as his voice gave out, his unspoken intent was plain. Tess fervently hoped Carlos had loyalty enough to the Brethren’s code that her rings would be safe from theft by any aboard.
He did declare ‘no stealing’, and he thinks I’m Edward’s possession ….

A horrible realization swept over Tess, that her unintentional protector lay quietly bleeding to death in the cabin across from where they stood. Without him, without his influence, these human predators would show her no mercy. Of that, she was certain. And in that moment, her triage of the wounded suddenly rearranged in order of importance. Not to save their lives, but to save her own.

 

William wasn’t sure which of his senses brought him back to the brink of consciousness first–the fecal smell of hot bowels and blood, the dissonance of the cries of the still-conscious wounded, the burning thirst in his throat, or the firm and warm pressure of someone’s hands over his lower rib cage.

His eyelids were sticky and dry, and they fluttered as he attempted to open them. He blinked to clear his vision and a familiar face swam into view, hovering over him, with sweet lips moving in an almost inaudible murmur.

Tess!

A spreading, pleasant warmth was moving through him, emanating from her hands which she had placed front to back on his lower chest wall. William struggled to remember what had happened. The brutal recollection of the battle and of his attempted rescue of Tommy came back in broken bits of detail. He lifted his head and attempted to locate the young boy. He recalled having dragged the unconscious youngster alongside him, wedging the small boy’s body between the ship’s wall and his own, intending to shield him from being trod upon by those moving about in such a packed space. William turned to look at the wall.

The spot beside him was empty.

Feeling both confusion and panic rising in him, he attempted to sit up. Another pair of hands at his shoulders held him firmly in place.

“There, there now, Mr. Taylor. Lay there, still as a mouse fer a wee bit longer, won’cha?” Mrs. Hanley’s voice was less soothing than he supposed she meant for it to sound, as the extra volume to be heard over the background noises gave her words a harsh edge. “The wee lad’s alright, don’cha know? He’s been sittin’ back in the corner waitin’ fer ya’ to wake. Fell asleep himself, waitin’ fer ya’, and it’s best he be left awhile. Now hold yerself still so’s Tess can finish her work on ya’.”

Having tended to William’s chest wound, Tess offered a weak smile to him and moved on to the next moaning form. Mrs. Hanley placed a moist poultice over his torn chest wall, and a wispy sweet scent of the crushed leaves of Agrimony drifted over William’s face. She bent close to him as she dressed his wound with strips of linen and whispered, “I was savin’ this and the Comfrey in case of the rat-bite fever but it seems that ya’ might not have lived on long enough to be needin’ it fer that.” She shrugged and then continued, “I hated to think that it would be there in my trunk, all tucked in nice an’ cozy with the cinnamon an’ dried spices, with me maybe gone yonder to meet me husband an’ daughter, an’ it endin’ up bein’ used an’ wasted on the likes of these scum!” She scowled and her thick brows knitted together as she chatted aloud.

“I don’t know what’s come over my Tess,” she said shaking her head, “that she saw fit to tend to the wounds of that scoundrel, Mr. Edward, an’ that–that
ogre
what calls himself captain now. Not with decent men like yerself needin’ the help. Lord knows, there’s no shortage of ya’ in here.” She moved down to his knee and sponged the wound there reasonably clear of blood, then picked out remnants of the imbedded grapeshot.

“What’s become of my Da’ and Captain Crowell and Smith and–”

“Easy now, they’re all up on the main deck–none of them worse fer wear neither. Your Da’s a mighty man, talk or no talk, an’ even pirates understand how valuable a man like that can be. Already he’s been forced into helpin’ make repairs to the railings an’ decks an’ such. Mr. Lancaster, bein’ the fine carpenter that he is, was spared as well, once they found out his abilities at boat buildin’, an’ yer friend, Mr. Smith, well, I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you, but ….” She breathed in and out deeply before continuing. “But, he was one of the first to sign on as a new recruit fer these damned pirates.”

William took in this news in astonished silence. He had known his friend to be one who judged things in life with a calm acceptance, but Smith had shown himself to be a loyal ally on many occasions. To even consider that he would so easily change sides was unthinkable.

“I need some fresh air,” he announced, intending to find out Smith’s whereabouts for himself.

“You’d be safer stayin’ put,” Mrs. Hanley admonished, and then looking around her at the grim collection of the wounded men, most in various stages of dying, she reconsidered. “But maybe some air up top would do us all some good.” She handed William a long piece of wood to use as a makeshift crutch. “Best ya’ try them stairs while the laudanum an’ lard in them poultices is still workin’ good.”

Gritting his teeth against the residual pain, William struggled to his feet and hopped towards the ladder’s base. Slowly, one rung at a time, he hauled himself up and out of the sickbay hellhole and slithered out of the hatch onto the deck above. Although the
Mary Jane
prisoners were already hard at work scrubbing with holy stones and rinsing the wooden planking with buckets of sea water, the deck was still slippery with the bodily wreckage spilled during the battle. William blinked in the sunlight and searched for familiar faces. The pirates seemed to be lounging in supervisory capacities while the captured sailors were doing the cleaning up and starting to repair the battle’s damage to the
Mary Jane.

Smith was nowhere to be seen. Mrs. Hanley had been telling the truth, then.

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