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I turn and stumble out of the room, into smoke that obscures the cannons. The gun deck seems to be empty now, the cannons have ceased firing on all ends. I feel my way to the stairs and then up to the second level, looking for a window out, when I’m suddenly accosted by someone, hands taking a rough hold of my elbows.
“Where do you think you’re going, strumpet?” A tall bald-headed man has a hold of me. He’s built like a bear and his breath smells of beer and pennies. “Thinking you might escape during a little fight, did ye now?”
“Let me go!” I growl at him and try to get out of his grasp but it’s useless. His fingernails are sharp and they dig in hard enough to pierce my skin. I grit my teeth.
“No, I won’t be doing that. Let’s take a stroll, shall we?”
“Sterling!” someone yells from above. “Don’t leave your post!”
“The winds is in the sails!” Sterling yells back. “Can’t you see the ship will be in our shadow before long?”
Then he pulls me up the stairs to the top deck and the sun is so bright after all that time beneath that I can barely see. By the time they adjust, I expect to see bloodshed and mayhem on the deck.
Instead it’s a different scene entirely.
The enemy ship looks far behind the stern, so far that I can’t even tell what flag they’re flying. They aren’t retreating but instead the speed of theNightwindhas picked up several knots and we are leaving them in our wake, causing my heart to sink even further than it already had.
And all of theNightwind’screw has gone completely still.
They’re all focused on Aerik, who has his arm around the young boy that brought us water and bread, holding a marlinespike against his temple. His hand is shaking, no doubt due to the fervor that’s masking his damaged arm but he still looks like he could kill the boy in an instant.
“Give me the ship’s boat,” Aerik sneers. “Or I’ll drive this spike right into this little boy’s brain.”
My gaze goes to the captain. For once he looks completely worried, his dark brows furrowed, his jaw tense, and a faint sense of anguish in his eyes. I wonder if this is the captain’s son?
And while I never give Aerik much credit—he’s often more bark than bite, except when it comes to dealing with me—he looks positively deranged now and unpredictable. I wouldn’t be surprised if he followed through with his threat.
“I said, give me the ship’s boat and let me find my safety, or this child is dead. Do you understand?”
“If the child is dead, your wife is dead,” Sterling grunts, his breath raspy and wet in my ear.
“I wasn’t planning on taking her with me at any rate,” Aerik snipes. He looks back to the captain. “Do we have a deal?”
All eyes are on the captain now.
“I don’t make deals,” the captain says gravely, his eyes focused intently on the little boy, as if telling him a message. “And you’re not leaving this ship, Prince Aerik.”
Aerik’s eyes go wide with surprise, then rage, and I fear he’s about to kill the little boy. And after that, Sterling might kill me. What use am I if the prince is gone? His survival means my survival.
My eyes are glued to Aerik’s grip as it tightens on the rusted spike and he makes the motion to stab the boy and I can’t help but cry out “No! Aerik, stop!”
But the words barely leave my mouth as a small man leaps from behind Aerik like he’s part monkey, and tackles him from above. Aerik is knocked to the ground and the boy manages to escape his grasp, running over to the captain’s side who ushers the boy behind him.
Aerik grapples with the man, still wielding the spike, and somehow manages to get the advantage for just long enough to drive the spike right into the side of the man’s head.
I gasp while Sterling goes, “That one hurts,” and yet no one else in the crew seems all that bothered by the fact that their mate has a spike sticking out of his temple. Instead, two of the crew members start walking to Aerik, who looks in shock at what he just did.
He looks even more in shock when the man he just stabbed suddenly reaches up and pulls the spike out of his head and tosses it to the deck. Just a thin trickle of blood comes out of his head and he staggers to his feet, staring down at Aerik.
“You want to kill me, you’re going to have to try harder than that.”
CHAPTER9
Ramsay
Drakos kicksthe marlinespike away as he walks over to the rail, one palm pressed against his temple. Poor cunt, I know he must be in pain. I’ll have to give him extra rations later as a way of saying thanks. While the entire crew is strong, no one has the spritely agility that Drakos has, leaping from mast to mast, balancing on thin rope, doing twists and rolls in the air like a god damned acrobat. In hand-to-hand combat he is a most formidable asset and he’ll do it with a smile on his face.
Except now the Greek isn’t laughing. That wound might take longer than usual to heal. Best he stays out of the game to heal for a bit.
