Cutlass (5 page)

“I think you only fight so viciously because you know I am right,” said Barren as he parried another blow.

“How do you live with yourself?” She cried harshly. “Murdering all those people—do you feel that is right?”

“Do you think your husband was right to murder my father?”

“He. Is. Not. My. Husband!” Her words were punctuated by the strike of the sword against Barren’s. On the last word, Barren misdirected his blade. He felt a burning sensation down his arm and knew he was cut. He didn’t let her blow vex him; he didn’t have time. Her attacks seemed to grow stronger with every strike. Barren was getting angrier by the second—the men he encountered at sea hardly gave him this much of a battle. His blade nicked her fingers, and she dropped her sword. Barren moved quickly, grabbing her weapon and throwing it into the ocean.

He turned to laugh at her, but Larkin had more surprises up her sleeve—she bent and picked up a handful of sand, throwing it at Barren’s face. The sand stung his eyes and he lost focus as he tried to rub it out. Larkin made her move, pushing him to the ground, grabbing his sword as he fell. She held the tip of his blade inches from his nose.

“Cheater,” she accused breathlessly.

“You’re the one who threw sand in his face,” Leaf called from the darkness beyond, and Barren felt relief flood his body. “But if you were referring to his misuse of his blade, he’s a pirate, Lady. What did you expect?”

Barren was relieved when he saw the blade against her neck. Larkin went rigid and straightened slowly. Leaf pried the short sword from her hand, tossing the blade at Barren’s feet. The young pirate stood, still rubbing his eyes. He glared at Larkin whose gaze was narrow, her jaw tightened in defeat.

“I thought she killed you,” said Leaf. He pulled Larkin’s hands behind her back and tied them tightly with rope. “It would have been a pity—I would never have been able to tell you how right I really was.”

“You could have gotten here a little sooner.”

“Oh, I was here,” replied Leaf with a smile. “I just enjoyed watching you struggle.”

“Some friend you are.”

As Barren rubbed his eyes free of sand, he noticed a long chain around Larkin’s neck. Barren reached forward with his blade and strung the chain along the tip, lifting it from her chest. Now he saw what was at the end—a silver circle, the top encrusted with diamonds. Her engagement ring. Barren hadn’t even thought to check her finger for the stone, but there it was, dangling and forgotten. Barren’s gaze met her menacing stare, and he withdrew his blade and let his arm fall to his side.

Then, using Leaf for support, Larkin leaned into him, kicking up her legs, her heeled feet smashing into Barren’s chest. He fell backward into the sand, and was then met with Larkin’s ridicule—as if the pain that shot through him wasn’t enough.

“You’re a bloody bastard!” she seethed. Leaf pulled her back, holding her in his tight grasp so she couldn’t maneuver again.

“I didn’t think ladies spoke with such crudeness,” Leaf laughed, which annoyed Barren even more, considering what had just happened.

Barren got to his feet, resisting the urge to put his knife at her throat and said, “I had no wish to kill you, but if you have any belief in the stories you hear about me, you better think twice before you
ever
do that again.”

His threat didn’t seem to sway her, because she glared just as fiercely as before. Barren stood back and met Leaf’s eyes. He didn’t have to speak for the Elf to know what he was thinking. As Leaf fitted the gag over Larkin’s mouth, she tried to scream and lurched violently away from him, but Barren was there to hold her tightly against him as she struggled, earning more than his fair share of profanity-laden curses.

When the gag was in place, Barren pushed her toward Leaf so he could lead her to the ship—he’d had enough of her.

“Come on. I can hear them searching for her,” said Leaf. “They’ll come here first. We should be on our way.”

Barren followed behind them, feeling humiliated and defeated. As they left the shore, he noticed Larkin’s scarf on the ground. He kicked it where it lay. Tonight he had met his equal.

As they headed toward the ship, Barren could hear Leaf chuckle now and then. He ground his teeth. He knew the Elf wouldn’t let him forget his near-defeat at the hands of a girl. He wondered where Larkin had learned to fight like that. What use were those skills to a lady of Maris? Perhaps her father had wanted her to be well-prepared, just in case she was hauled off by pirates. But Larkin wouldn’t have been a target until she decided to marry William, and those skills weren’t from a few weeks of instruction—no, they, like Barren’s, had come from a lifetime of training.

The
Kendrick
sat behind several large rocks on the other side of the port. It was a hard task moving through the brackish water and mud that plagued the shore on the way there, but the three fared well enough and ended up safely on the ship, and as far as they knew, unseen by anyone. Barren’s crew didn’t manage to do much other than stare at the girl he had kidnapped.

“That’s William’s fiancée?” asked Sam as Barren approached him. Sam towered over the helm. He was broad and bulky and when he stood with his arms crossed, everyone around him felt intimidated.

 Barren turned and watched as Leaf helped Larkin kneel down and then sit on the deck; her hands remained tied behind her back. Then the Elf moved toward the helm where he kept a bag of supplies for treating wounds and other illnesses caused by the sea.

“Don’t be fooled,” Barren said to Sam, and his hand tightened around his shoulder, keeping pressure on his wound. “She’s not all pretty and sweet.”

“Don’t let
him
fool you,” said Leaf. “He’s just angry because he found himself in a little trap. That’s what he gets for underestimating his opponent.”

“I certainly overestimated our friendship, considering you chose entertainment over my life.”

“You’re still here. Quit being dramatic.” Leaf rolled his eyes.

“Fix this,” said Barren, taking off his jacket and moving his injured arm in Leaf’s face. The Elf scrunched up his nose in disgust, but Leaf was a healer; he had seen worse. Shoving Barren’s shoulder out of his face, he said, “You can wait. Ladies first.”

Leaf walked over to Larkin whose eyes were so fierce, they almost looked glassy. He spoke to her quietly for a moment, and then Barren watched as the Elf removed her gag and cut the ropes that held her wrists captive. He cleansed her wound, smeared a clear slave on her fingers, and bandaged her hand. When he was finished, he secured her wrists in the ropes again, only now her hands rested comfortably in her lap.

“Oh yes,” Barren said as Leaf approached. “Leave her tied up like that, see if she escapes by morning.”

“She’ll be fine.”

“I think you revel in defying me,” Leaf chuckled, and Barren knew that technically, as quartermaster, Leaf had the ability to override any orders Barren gave—that was part of the code.

The Elf poured the herb mixture he used on Larkin’s hand into the ocean. Sitting on one of the steps leading to the helm, he patted the space next to him. Barren sat. The Elf poured water from his canteen into the wooden bowl and sprinkled more herbs into it. All of his actions were slow and precise, right down to dipping a rag into the mixture, so when Leaf jammed the soaked poultice into his arm, Barren didn’t react well.

“Dammit, Leaf! What did I do to you?” He cowered away from the Elf, holding his arm, as the gash started bleeding profusely.

“That’s for making yet another stupid decision that almost got you killed!”

“Leaf, I’m far from death, don’t you think? I’ve been closer than this before.”

“The fact that your veins are filled with immortal blood does not make you invincible. You’ll do well to remember that, Barren Reed.” Leaf said nothing more and focused on his work—smearing salve on the pirate’s arm, and bandaging it tightly. He left without another word.

For Barren, it wouldn’t be a normal day if he didn’t do something to get on the Elf’s nerves. Sometimes he felt like everything he did was stupid, because that’s what Leaf always said. He cast his gaze over to Larkin. She was examining her binds. Barren wouldn’t be surprised if he found her gnawing on them later in an attempt to break free.

He unbuttoned his shirt and surveyed his chest where Larkin had kicked him. Broken skin and a little bit of blood marked two places on either side of his sternum where her heels had hit him. The wounds weren’t nearly as bad as they had felt. When he looked up, he caught Larkin’s eyes on him, and he buttoned his shirt quickly. He didn’t want her to know she’d harmed him any more than was already visible.

 Barren stood and moved up the helm. Seamus was standing there beside Sam. He was a thin man with gray hair that swept his shoulders and he knew weapons better than anyone in the Orient—which was why Barren had chosen him as his Weapons Master. There was an odd brightness to his eyes and he was laughing. Barren could just imagine why—it wasn’t every day Barren was beaten by a girl.

“Didn’t think you’d snag such a beauty,” said Seamus.

“She’ll be more trouble than she’s worth,” grunted Slay as he plopped down on the deck, having been up in the crow’s nest. The dwarf took his place beside Seamus and crossed thick arms over his chest. “I say ye had a bad idea.”

“I’m aware that it wasn’t one of my best.” Barren folded his arms over his chest and glared at Larkin, almost mimicking Slay. Then he watched as Larkin drew her legs up and managed to rest her head on her knees, turning away from the pirates. She seemed almost a child then, perhaps sick with the reality of her situation. Barren felt the angry tension in his face give way to a frown.

“Go find her a blanket, Slay,” Barren ordered.

“But…but she’s a prisoner!”

Barren glared at the dwarf. Slay exhaled sharply, and stomped away, diving into the hatch to find a blanket. Seamus glanced at Barren, his old eyes permanently squinted and watery.

“You know, you have time. You can change your mind. Take her back.”

Barren wasn’t sure why, but the notion angered him. “No.” he said resolutely. In the end, Barren had kidnapped Larkin for one reason, and if her disappearance didn’t bring William right to him, nothing would.

Seamus shook his head. Barren expected him to say something, but the old man turned and hobbled away. A loud crash came from below. After a moment, Slay climbed out of the hatch, a blanket in hand. He walked up to Larkin and stuck out his hand to give her the blanket. She stared at him, looking both curious and confused. Slay grew impatient and dropped the blanket at her feet, turning swiftly. He walked away grumbling, and went back to his post in the crow’s nest.

“Where to, Barren?” asked Sam, hands on the helm. Though it was dark, they all knew they couldn’t sit here so close to Maris. They would at least have to retreat to the Cliffs.

“We will return to the Cliffs for the night. If no one is searching for her by daybreak, we leave altogether.”

Sam shrugged. “You’re the captain.”

***

Larkin had a hard time trudging through the mushy path of water, rocks and mud wearing a ball gown. She tripped several times on the too long skirt, only to be caught up in the ever-present arms of her kidnapper. It was infuriating. She would prefer being covered in mud, rather than allowing Barren’s constant attempts to keep her on her feet.

She couldn’t really figure out how to feel—she was scared, yes, but also strangely intrigued. She knew why they’d taken her: as bait to lure William to sea. Her father had warned her that she might be targeted, and she felt stupid having been taken. Every time she looked at Barren, anger flared in her chest.

She’d decided to leave the engagement party after spotting Barren. She’d gone through her options—returning home meant signaling a carriage and drawing attention, and while the castle might offer safety, it didn’t offer her peace. That’s why she’d chosen to head to shore—why would a pirate ever suspect she’d go there? She was a lady, after all. She’d thought she had been discreet on her way out, even escaping Barren Reed’s notice…but, instead, she’d drawn it.

She fell again and jerked away when she felt his hand on her arm.

“I am perfectly capable of standing on my own,” she spat.

Barren gave a short laugh. “Really? Because you’ve been stumbling all over since we left the ship.”

Larkin reached down and gathered her dress up as much as she could and continued forward. “If it is too bothersome for you, we can cut the skirt away.”

Larkin twisted, almost slipping as she did. Her eyes fell upon Barren, narrow and unkind.

“You will
not
touch me.”

Barren held up his hands. “I was just offering an option to ease your struggling.”

“I’m not struggling!”

She turned around and to her great annoyance, fell again as the rocks and mud gave way beneath her feet. This time, Barren stood aside as she got to her feet again. She refused to look at him, her face burning with embarrassment.

Soon, the large mouth of a cave appeared before them, an endless hole in one of the many cliffs. It rested before the water silently. Larkin gazed behind her—no sign of Maris lingered there—no outline of the port, no castle, not even lantern lights. Barren gave her a little push and they were engulfed by the darkness.