Raven Quest (12 page)

Nathan held out his hand to her. She took it, smiling as the lightning pulse of delight leaped between them. As he drew her hand into his arm, he smiled. “Guillermo has offered to be our guide for a tour of the marketplace.”

“My honor,” Guillermo said through stiff lips.

His smile returned as he opened the door and motioned for them to go ahead of him. An ornate carriage waited in front of the door.

“Is it so far?” she asked. “I thought we drove past the market on the way here.”

Nathan chuckled as he handed her into the carriage. “No, it's only a few blocks from here. I suspect our host wishes to arrive in style.”

When Nathan sat beside her, Guillermo chose the seat with his back to the horses. Ernest muttered something and dropped beside their host, but she guessed it would be wiser not to ask him to repeat it. She looked out the window at the blank walls of the houses they passed.

The noise from the market reached into the carriage as they turned a corner. While Nathan handed Rory out of the carriage, Guillermo ordered it to return for them in a few hours.

Rory smiled as she looked at the marketplace set in front of a cathedral that was a tepid gray against the brilliant sky. The market was like an overwhelming festival which attacked all her senses. She turned slowly to admire the bright flowers and colors that decorated even the simplest stall. Birds squawked and children ran around the shoppers and merchants. Everyone was talking and negotiating, eager to see what the next stall might hold. Music from several guitars and a drum added to the noise.

Her smile wavered when she noted Ernest slipping away into the crowd. Curious, she said nothing. She did not want to let Guillermo guess they were hoping to decipher the next line of the poem here.

Nathan put his arm around Rory's shoulders and turned her back to face the cathedral. He flashed her a swift smile. Ernest had not been happy to hear that Rory was joining them today. Knowing his first mate was right to be cautious, Nathan also knew that he would be foolish to leave her in that house with Guillermo. He should have listened to Ernest and left Rory on the
Vengeance.
But if he had, they would not have had last night.

He stroked her cheek with his finger, and she looked up at him. His breath caught as he saw the quiet fire in her eyes. Too bad they could not have waited a day or two to talk with Simon. He shook himself. What was wrong with him? He had wasted years looking for this treasure, and now it was about to become his. He should not be thinking about the ecstasy he could be sharing even now with Rory.

Bafflement dimmed the light in her eyes as he steered her to the closest stall. Her shoulders stiffened beneath his arm before she shrugged them off. Watching her slender fingers touch the silver strands hanging from a stick, he almost smiled. Whether she was dressed in breeches or her pretty frock, Rory Mullins could not hide her emotions.

The silversmith lauded his work and Rory's beauty, but she only smiled and continued on. Nathan chuckled, wondering if she would have lingered had she understood the man's words. When Guillermo pushed past him to explain to her what the silversmith had said, Nathan's fingers curled into fists as Rory brushed her hand against Herrera y Fallas's sleeve, laughing with him.

“Cap'n!” Ernest grabbed his arm and hissed, “Simon's here. Wants to talk to you. Now!”

He hovered between a smile and a frown. He needed to speak with the sailor, but he did not want to leave Rory alone with Herrera y Fallas.

He realized how foolish he was being when Rory walked back to him and said quietly, “Go and do what you must. I'll keep Guillermo busy.” Raising her voice so Herrera y Fallas would hear it as he approached, she added, “Some juice would be lovely, Nathan. Will you bring it to the goldsmiths' stalls? Guillermo says I must see their work.” She slipped her hand onto Herrera y Fallas's arm. “Do hurry.”

He nodded, hearing the sincerity in those two words. He started to follow Ernest, then turned and grasped her. Pulling her to him, he kissed her with swift yearning.

Rory gasped as Nathan released her. When she swayed, overwhelmed by the longing to throw her arms around him, she heard a mutter behind her. She forced the quivers to cease as she faced Guillermo. “Shall we go?” she asked, hoping her voice did not sound as breathless as it felt in her throat.

Walking with Guillermo toward the goldsmiths, she struggled to relax. That was impossible. She was too eager to discover if Nathan's friend could help them. When Guillermo offered his arm, she doubted if her smile looked very sincere.

She let him talk about the stalls around them and the wares being sold as they strolled through the market. The sun burned into her, and sweat coursed down her back as the minutes inched by. She wished she had given Guillermo another excuse for Nathan to leave. As they passed booths where drinks were being sold, she wanted to stop. But she could not, for that would reveal she had been lying.

“I think you will appreciate the artisans who work in gold here,” Guillermo said as he steered her closer to the cathedral. “Many have honed their crafts working on the native gold.”

“I once heard that Spanish explorers melted down the gold they found. I don't understand why.” She wiped sweat from her nape.

“No
conquistador
would bring those pagan symbols back to Spain.” He glanced toward the harbor. “It is a long journey from the gold kingdoms to Spain.”

“Have you been to Spain?” She needed to keep the conversation going so he would not notice how long Nathan and Ernest had been gone.

“No, my great-uncle forbids any of us to travel on the sea after my father died there.”

“I didn't know. I'm sorry.”

His smile returned. “Like your
padre,
his death was many years ago. I am happy to remain here with my great-uncle.”

“I can understand why. Your home is so lovely.”

“I have heard you were admiring the gardens yesterday before dinner.”

She nodded, although she wondered if his spies had seen Nathan there with her last night. “I have often dreamed of a house with beautiful flowers surrounding it.”

“Come and view the glory of the gold, which is even more lovely than flowers.”

When he led her to the stalls of the goldsmiths, she forgot her discomfort. She stared at the lovely work of gold and gems. Was this what her father's treasure looked like? Gold and jewels and all manner of patterns from filigree to plate? No wonder men lusted after this. Her fingers touched a gold chain, and a shiver coursed along her.

“You can't be cold,
mi querida,
” Guillermo said with a chuckle.

“Of course not!” She did not look up from the gold. He was watching her too closely. She must take care.

Going to the next stall, she admired the items for sale. Another shiver ached on her tense shoulders. She put her fingers to her cheek. It was both hot and clammy. She must not become ill now. If Nathan and Ernest found the clues they sought, they would not want to delay here while she was sick. Would they leave her?

Guillermo led her to other booths. She stared at beautiful things she had never seen for sale before, but she could not concentrate on the fine leathers and elegant fabrics. Would Nathan leave her to go find the
Raven
's gold? And, if he did, would he come back for her? The silks wavered in front of her. She reached up, but no tears filled her eyes. She must not be ill!

She stumbled and frowned. Had a loose stone tripped her? She winced as a flash of pain scored her forehead. Maybe she should have remained in bed and slept. Her steps were as uneven as when she had been short on sleep at Yellow Hal's.

“Churros are delicious,
mi querida,
” Guillermo was saying when the rumble in her ears quieted. “Would you like one?”

She struggled to smile at the man who was frying dough in the bubbling oil. The waves of heat from the vat struck her like the sea against the bow of the
Vengeance.
Her stomach rocked like the deck.

“No, thank you,” she whispered, afraid to open her mouth farther.

“
Mi querida,
are you all right?”

She reeled away, putting her hand against the side of the next booth. Her eyes widened as, through the haze of the heat, she saw an unmistakable form. “Blindman!” she cried.

His laugh rumbled toward her. She ran to him, but her foot caught and she fell to the stones. Pushing herself up, she ignored Guillermo's shout. She wanted to share with the Blindman what they had discovered, to ask him if he understood the rest of the poem, to be hugged by the arms that had been her sole comfort for so many years—and as she told him how she was afraid she loved a man who loved her father's gold more than her.

She took a single step, then froze, another icy shiver skittering down her spine as she saw another form beyond the Blindman. Yellow Hal! No, he could not be here, although the sunlight off his hair warned that he was. Why had the Blindman brought him to Havana?

Whirling, she prayed he had not seen her. She faltered. How could she leave the Blindman to that beast? Her name was called.
Nathan!
Dear God, she had to warn Nathan! She took a step and her knees collapsed, dragging her into darkness.

A soft breath of air stroked her face as Rory opened her eyes. She heard the whisper of rain falling in a soothing song. In confusion, she stared at the ceiling and wondered where she was. There had been so many different beds in her past as she was moved from family to family.

“How are you, sweetheart?”

She turned to Nathan as he bent over the bed to place a cooled cloth on her forehead. He handed a dried one to Nicte. Reaching up, she touched his face.

“Can you speak, Rory? We
all
have been waiting anxiously for you to awaken.” His slight emphasis warned her others were in the room.

Even though her head ached, she looked at Ernest who stood at the foot of the bed. His face was haggard. She stared at Padre Fernando and his great-nephew who smiled.

In a broken whisper, she asked, “What happened? How did we get back here?”

“You have been delirious for hours.”

“Delirious?” Involuntarily, she glanced at Guillermo again. He leaned against the wall, acting as if he owned them all. Had she said something to cause that smile?

As if she had asked aloud, Nathan murmured, “Nothing you said was understandable, Rory.”

“But what happened?”

Nathan's grin was ironic. “We suspect it was too much sun. We assumed you were used to the tropical sun by now.”

“I never went out without my hat and kerchief in Port—” Her gaze flickered toward their hosts. “At home.”

“We realize that now, but didn't until you fainted in the marketplace.”

She grasped his hand as memory burst through her head. “Nathan, I saw Yellow—” Again she bit back her words.

Nathan squeezed her hand as he turned. “Now that all of you have seen she is awake, I think she should have some quiet to regain her strength.”

Guillermo was not willing to be banished so readily. “Rory, may I—?”

“No,” she whispered. She must speak with Nathan about what she had seen. They must leave Havana immediately.

“Rest,” murmured Padre Fernando as he put his hand on his great-nephew's arm. “Rest, my child. We shall visit when you feel better. My friend?” he added to Ernest.

“Aye, 'tis time two old men had a chat.”

“Old?” Padre Fernando laughed, and the years fell from his face. As he walked with Ernest out of the room, the sounds of camaraderie wafted behind them.

Guillermo moved instead toward the bed. He avoided Nathan by walking to the opposite side. Taking Rory's hand, he raised it to his lips. When she snatched it from him with all her limited strength, he frowned. Without a word, he spun on his heel and left.

Rory sagged against the pillows as Nathan motioned for Nicte to leave. The maid nodded when Rory smiled and seconded the motion. Nicte must not hear this, even though they were speaking in a language she could not comprehend.

“Yellow Hal?” asked Nathan, sitting on the bed.

“I saw him.” She gripped his arm.

He frowned. “Are you sure?”

“I saw him and the Blindman in the marketplace.”

With a chuckle, Nathan smoothed the cloth across her head. “Just before you fainted?” His voice gentled. “Rory, sun sickness can make you see things that aren't there. Just as it can make you feel cold when it's hot.”

“I was shivering.” She closed her eyes. “But it was so real.”

“Would the Blindman be in Yellow Hal's company?”

“Not by choice.”

“It was just a trick of the sun's heat, sweetheart.” His lips brushed her cheek. “Padre Fernando is right. You need to rest now.”

She was going to reply, going to tell him that her uneasiness remained, but he stood and went out on the balcony. When she saw his tight fists on the rail, she realized she had not asked him about his meeting with the sailor Simon. He hung his head, and she knew she need not. Another dead end in his search. She wondered where they would go from here.

Ten

Rory held tightly to the banister as she descended the stairs for the first time in almost a week. The sun sickness had truly sapped her strength. Even walking from her bed to the balcony had left her weak for several days. Nicte refused to let her sit on the balcony until the sun was past its zenith. Rory suspected Nathan had ordered that.

She touched the lace mantilla that he had brought her yesterday. “For your next trip out into the sun,” he had said with a smile and a kiss that would have taken her breath away even if she had not been breathless from crossing the room to greet him.

Now the hours of
siesta
were past, and the house was coming alive for the evening. She could not linger in her rooms. Each step tentative, she walked out into the gardens. She was delighted to see Ernest there. He had not come to visit her for the past few days, and Nathan's terse answers told her that Ernest was still searching for information.