Page 8 of Queen’s Griffon (Swords & Tiaras #2)

Chapter 7

Avera

Avera woke and blinked. She didn’t recognize the bed, one much more comfortable than what she’d been sleeping in of late. The covers were thicker and softer. The wall she faced smooth and varnished.

Whose cabin was she in? Because she was definitely on a ship, judging by the subtle rocking.

Last she recalled she’d been drowning. The water closed over her head and she panicked. Someone must have saved her. She’d have to thank them once she found out who.

She rolled to the other side and froze. The bed held someone else, their broad back definitely masculine. As she sat up, quietly and carefully so as not to wake him, she noticed she wore a shirt of billowy gray large enough it covered her. Mostly. Her bare legs hung out and the V of the neck plunged shockingly low on her torso.

As she eased to the foot of the bed, she spotted a familiar sword leaning by the door. In that moment she realized just whose room she found herself in

The captain’s. The question being, why?

Why had he put her in his room? In his bed? His shirt?

Wait, had he molested her while she’d been unconscious? She felt no soreness between her legs and from what she knew, her first time would hurt. Or so the maids claimed. She’d never intended to find out.

“You can stop trying to sneak so noisily. I’m awake,” grumbled the man.

“Did you compromise me?” she blurted, even as she felt certain the answer was no.

“What?” Griffon rolled to his back and frowned at her. It should be noted he looked ridiculously attractive. His hair was mussed from sleep, his jaw shadowed with the start of a beard. The breadth of his naked chest was exposed as the sheet lay pooled around his naval.

“I asked if you took liberties,” she huffed.

“No. And it’s insulting you would even think I might have. I prefer my women awake and willing,” he snapped with affront.

“Then why am I in your room, wearing your clothes?” She gestured to the shirt as she crouched on the foot of his bed.

“Dunno. After you got fished from the ocean, I told Monty to put you to bed. Apparently, he thought that meant mine.”

“Who’s Monty? Is he the one who saved me?”

“No.” A terse reply.

“Did he undress me?” she squeaked.

The captain shrugged. “No idea. You were already tucked in bed when I crawled in. Guess you’ll have to ask him.”

“I will and I’m telling you right now, if he took liberties?—”

“Then I’ll toss him into the ocean myself.” A low growled promise.

“Oh.” She’d not expected that. “Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary. My crew know my rules,” was his flat response.

“Do you have many? What are they?” she asked, curious but also trying to ease her anxiety over being in such a situation.

“Listen when I talk. Do your job. No stealing from your mates. No raping. No killing of children.”

“Those seem reasonable.”

“What else did you expect?”

“I don’t know. You’re the first pirate I’ve ever met.”

“We’re people like anyone else.”

“Who’ve chosen to steal from others.”

He shrugged. “Not much choice given Saarpira doesn’t have any resources we can exploit.”

“If you had a choice, would you continue to pirate?”

“A moot question to ask, since we don’t have another option.”

“Say you did. Like, for example, a kingdom offered you employment.”

“As what?”

“Privateers patrolling coastlines.”

He snorted. “As if anyone is going to trust a former pirate to guard their coasts.”

“Don’t be so sure of that,” she muttered. “Daerva’s last admiral proved to be less than honest and satisfactory.” While he might have kidnapped her, and talked frankly about being a pirate, she’d seen how his crew respected and loved him. The captain treated them well, and that spoke to his character.

“Why, little queen, are you offering me a commission?”

“If I did, would you accept?”

“Probably not.”

“Why?” she asked, canting her head.

“Because I doubt I could take orders from you.”

“Can’t handle being under a woman?” she asked with an arched brow.

“Oh, I like being under a woman just fine,” he purred.

It took her a moment to realize he suggested something sexual, and her cheeks heated. “You are being wildly inappropriate.”

“Says the woman in my bed wearing naught but my shirt.”

“Not by choice,” she huffed, hopping to the floor.

“Given your attitude, I see you’ve recovered from your swim.”

“Hardly a swim. I was sinking like a rock.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t move your arms and legs.”

“Because I was unconscious,” she huffed. “Not that it would have mattered. I don’t know how to swim.”

He blinked at her with sinfully long lashes. “How do you not know how to swim?”

“I never learned. Velunda, the capital of Daerva where I lived, didn’t have anywhere to try. The Lake of Tears is poisonous and I never went anywhere that had a body of water I couldn’t wade in.” And even that could be dangerous. When escaping Fraegus Spire, she’d almost been eaten by a massive worm monster hidden in an underground lake.

“Which makes your idiocy last night even more egregious. Always tether in a storm.”

“I didn’t have time. I was busy fighting.”

“Make the time,” he growled. “Or next time there might not be someone there to save you.”

He had a point, but she hated to concede. “I’m hungry.”

“You know where the galley is.”

She pointed to her body. “I can’t go out like this.” The shirt ended mid-thigh.

“What do you expect me to do about that?”

“I need clothes,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

“You are so demanding,” the captain grumbled as he flung back the covers.

She got an eyeful of nude flesh before she, and her hot cheeks, turned away. “You slept with me naked?”

“I slept in my bed the way I always do.”

“Put something on,” she ordered. Although, it was too late. The sight of his muscles—and his manhood—remained engraved in her mind.

“Is the sight of me that hideous?” he asked, followed by the sound of steps as he crossed to the wardrobe.

“It’s improper,” was her pert reply.

“Says someone not used to living in close quarters. Privacy can be hard to achieve on a ship.” A cabinet door creaked, and she heard fabric being shaken out.

“I’ve been on board for days and you’re the first person in deshabille I’ve encountered.”

“Only because you got one of the rare cabins to yourself. If you were in the general crew quarters, you’d notice the difference.”

“I appreciate then that you gave me a room.”

“I did that mostly to spare my crew having to listen to you whining and puking.”

“I do not whine.”

“Why won’t you take me to Verlora to be killed? Wah,” he mocked.

“Why do you care if I die or not?”

“Because you’re worthless to me dead. You can turn around now.”

She whirled to see him wearing a shirt similar to her own as well as breeches. His feet remained bare, though. “You are callous.”

“Pragmatic.”

“Annoying.”

“Only because I won’t give in to your arrogant demands.”

“It’s not arrogant to want to do something to help my country.”

“No, it’s dumb because there’s nothing in Verlora for you or anyone,” was his harsh rebuttal.

“So you keep saying. I’d rather confirm that for myself.”

He sighed. “You just don’t give up.”

“You seem to have forgotten I have nothing to lose. A murderer stole my throne, influenced by an evil that’s trying to escape. My family is dead. My friends are now gone because of you. As is my horse. And all I have left is hope. Hope that I can still make a difference.”

“I envy you that. I lost mine a long time ago,” he said somberly.

“How long until we reach Saarpira?”

“Given the storm actually pushed us closer, a few days. But I don’t see why you care. You’ll still be my prisoner.”

“We’ll see about that. Now, pants, please, and a coat.”

“You want my clothes?” He arched a brow.

“I don’t see mine anywhere and I don’t have any spares thanks to your abduction.”

“My garments are much too large.”

“Obviously. I’ll need a belt or something.”

“I have a better idea.” He left and she stared in consternation at the door. She couldn’t exactly follow, not dressed in practically nothing.

Would he return? He’d not actually said. She pivoted in his room, taking in the space. Much larger than her cabin, it held a wardrobe full of clothes large enough to fit her twice, maybe even three times, around. Further prowling showed a desk with nothing on it although the drawer yielded parchment and a stylus. A map hung on the wall, and she eyed it with interest, especially the handwritten notes. He’d drawn a circle in an area between Verlora and Saarpira marked with a K. Another drawn shape north of the Daervanian continent with a U. An oblong shape to the west of her country held a squiggle. Verlora itself had been X’d out.

Was she being foolish following Opal’s advice? The captain sure seemed to think she was wasting her time, but what else could she do? Hunted by her own soldiers, she had no home, no throne. Her own people would turn her in for the reward. Even if they deposed Benoit and recognized the lies, she still had the Zhos problem. If that monster escaped, they were all doomed.

In that moment, everything seemed utterly hopeless. Dejection struck and she slumped on the edge of his bed. Perhaps she should give up and see if she could become a sailor. Or even better, a mechanic. Garth claimed she had a gift for tinkering. She could settle on Saarpira. Maybe see if Simhi and Kreed’s mother would take her on as an apprentice. She could fix things until the world ended.

“Cap says you need some clothes.” Simhi entered without knocking, carrying a bundle of fabric.

Avera’s lips split into a smile. “That would be most welcome, please.”

“I brought you some of mine since I tossed yours. Undine slime is impossible to remove.”

“You undressed me?” Avera asked almost tentatively.

“Aye. Why? Did you think Cap did it?”

“I didn’t know what to think,” she muttered.

“I mean, reasonable assumption seeing as how Cap dove into those waves after you. And this after telling us over and over to always stay tied and never risk ourselves because one life lost is better than two.”

The claim froze Avera. “Wait, are you saying Captain Griffon saved me?”

“Yup. Thought you were both goners but luckily Kreed’s got good eyes. He spotted him bobbing and tossed out a flotation ring and reeled you in. You would have died if not for Cap. He forced the water out of your lungs and then breathed life into you.”

Avera frowned. “Breathed life how?”

“How else? By blowing into your mouth.”

The reply had Avera squeaking. “He kissed me?” And she’d not been conscious for it!

“He filled you with air from his mouth through yours,” Simhi corrected with a chuckle. “And what do you know, it worked. It doesn’t always, you know.”

The captain saved her life and she’d accused him of taking liberties.

Her hand went to her neck. “Did you remove my locket when you undressed me?”

Simhi shook her head. “You had no jewelry on you.”

“Oh. I must have lost it when I fell in the ocean.”

“You hungry?” Simhi asked. “Cook saved you a plate.”

“Oh yes.” Avera dressed quickly and followed Simhi to the galley where she had to endure back slaps as the sailors who spotted her congratulated her on how many undine she killed.

“You’re almost as good as the Cap,” declared one grizzly fellow.

“She only beat me by two,” Simhi huffed. “And that’s only ‘cause Kreed kept getting in the way.”

“Do you often have to fight?” Avera asked to distract her friend.

“Nah. Most ships surrender quickly and just ransom some of their cargo in exchange for being set free undamaged.”

“What if they don’t?”

“Then we board them and take everything and send them limping back to port.” Simhi grinned widely.

“What of the undine and other nonhuman threats?”

“Those are rather rare. That’s only the second time I’ve encountered those slimy bastards. Mostly we’re dealing with crabs or the occasional kraken.”

“Crabs as in the delicious kind we eat in cake?”

“Bah, that’s for the puny ones. The ones we kill are huge. Think dog-sized.” Simhi held out her arms. “Cook has a special tub he sets up on deck to boil them. Once cooked, he serves them with some flavored oil.” Simhi kissed her fingertips. “So good.”

“Are they hard to kill?”

“Not really. Smashing them on the skull is the quickest way to drop them and keep the meat intact. Some like to sever their claws to render them harmless.”

“And what of krakens? The captain claims they are very dangerous.”

“Aye, they are.” Simhi nodded somberly. “Best thing to do when you encounter one is get out of its territory quick as you can. Lucky for us, the engine lets us move faster than they can swim. Boats without one have been sunk by adult kraken. They just wrap their tentacles around and crush it.” Simhi closed her fist to mime the effect.

“I’m really starting to wonder why people enjoy sailing. Seems dangerous to me.”

“Keeps us on our toes. Besides, what’s not to like about the freedom of riding the waves.”

“How is it freedom when you’re penned together on a boat?”

“Hard to explain other than we’re family. And family likes to be together.”

Avera bit her lip lest she blurt she’d never had such a thing growing up. Her siblings wanted nothing to do with her, Avera being the bastard their mother had.

Still, with Simhi’s explanation, she began to observe the ship and its crew in a different light. Noticed the friendships among them. How no one had to ask for help. If a sailor saw someone struggling, they offered a hand. This wasn’t to say no one fought. She caught a few yelling matches and scuffles, nothing extreme and always quickly resolved.

The next few days passed quickly and without event. To keep herself busy, Avera presented herself every morning to Garth who had plenty of tasks for her. She enjoyed the wealth of knowledge and stories Garth imparted. Even better, he taught her how the machines, that had long fascinated her, worked. Mealtimes she found herself not only with Simhi to chat with but some of the crew who appeared to have accepted her as one of them since the fight. Kreed, Garth, Monty, Peri, Lindrose, and Krysta to name a few.

As for the captain, while she did spot him here and there, he made no effort to speak to her. It miffed more than it should have and she didn’t understand why.

When an island came in sight, the lookout that day—of the one eye, which seemed an odd choice for the post—hollered, “Saarpira in sight.”

Avera couldn’t help but make her way to the prow to get a glimpse at this infamous pirate isle. It proved to be an eclectic mix of structures on a huge hunk of rock with very little green.

Atop the tallest promontory sat a small castle of stone. The outside was jagged, not smooth like the one she’d lived in. Below it was a very large town which ranged from wooden siding to notched logs to more rock, and even a building of bright red brick. The docks themselves numbered as many as Seaserpent Bay, jutting out in neat lines at which she counted three ships.

Three! Maybe she could convince one of those captains to drop her in a dinghy near Verlora. While she still lacked coin or anything of value to pay, perhaps they’d be willing for a relic from Verlora, or a promise from a queen in exile for when she returned to power.

To her surprise, a presence at her back turned out to be the captain. He stood grim-faced as he faced the island.

“Did you want something?” was her cool query.

“Just thought I’d explain what’s going to happen once we dock.”

“Going to put me in chains and parade me before the town?”

“No need. They’ll know who you belong to and there’s nowhere for you to go.”

She didn’t mention the other ships.

He did, though. “You’re probably thinking you can sweet talk another captain into taking you. They won’t. Not if they want to keep berthing here. We might be pirates, but on Saarpira there is a code we all follow that prevents us from poaching from each other.”

“Thieves banned from stealing. Seems a strange rule, and even stranger that any would follow it.”

“The consequences aren’t worth it.”

“Won’t the people find it odd you’ve got me? I’ve heard Saarpira doesn’t allow the buying and selling of people.”

“We don’t. However, there is nothing against the ransom of nobles. You forget, there is a large sum on your head.”

“Selling me to Benoit is the equivalent of killing me.”

“Assuming he’s the one paying the highest bounty.”

“Who else would?”

“You are a queen. I can think of a few leaders who might want to curry your good grace. Or Benoit’s.”

Her lips pinched. “I’m failing to see the difference between what you term ransom and bounty versus the slave trade.”

“You’re a political pawn, not indentured labor.”

“I think your argument is crap.” An expletive she’d learned from Simhi.

“Hardly arguing, just stating things how they are.”

“So am I to be placed in a cage while you wait for the highest bidder?”

“Only if you want to. I’d planned to give you a room at my place and the freedom to roam. After all, it’s not like there’s anywhere you can hide, and there is no escape.”

“We’ll see about that,” she muttered.

Despite the fact she remained more or less a prisoner, she couldn’t deny a certain excitement when they pulled into the dock.

Before becoming queen, Avera had never been farther than the port town less than a day’s travel from the capital. Now here she was, about to set foot on an isle of pirates. It did kind of excite. As she stood by Simhi, waiting for the gangplank to be lain down, she murmured, “Do you know where I can find some books?”

Her friend blinked at her. “Books?”

“You know, paper bound into a thick rectangle with words.”

Simhi laughed. “I know what they are, but what do you want with one?”

“I’d be interested in the history of this place as well as anything there is about Verlora.”

“Not much of either,” Simhi stated with a shake of her head. “At least not in town, that I know if. You should talk to Cap, though. He’s got a library at home.”

The one person she didn’t want to make any demands of. Maybe she wouldn’t have to. After all, he’d claimed she’d be staying with him. That meant she’d have access to his home and could find the books on her own.

As the crew disembarked, Avera among them, she glanced over to the ship berthed across from them. A sleek vessel, not quite as long or wide. It had strange notches in its railing.

“Why does their railing have holes?” Avera asked, nudging Simhi.

“Those slots are for fitting oars. That’s a galley from Merisu. Since they don’t have engines, when they need extra power, they manually row.”

“Really?” Avera craned to look at it once more, trying to imagine how that would look. As they passed the prow of the galley, she noticed a carved figure. “That’s beautifully done,” she remarked. If disturbing, considering the female with flowing hair and voluptuous upper body had a lower half that ended in tentacles.

“That would be Clodusa, the sea goddess they worship. They claim she used to guard the waters around Merisu, keeping away their foes and other threats.”

“Used to? What happened to her?”

Simhi shrugged. “What happened to all the gods, I imagine. People stopped believing so they left.”

“Seaserpent Bay had a chapel dedicated to some ancient deity.”

“Most cultures have some.”

“Even Verlora?”

“Yes, although not many believed in gods before the catastrophe. After, though, it led to a resurgence as survivors sought to appease Aestus, an ancient Verlorian god whom they think caused the volcano to erupt to express its displeasure.”

“Surely a god wouldn’t kill its own people?”

“You’d think so, but who knows for sure.”

“Do you believe?” Avera asked.

Simhi snorted. “I think there are many things in this world we don’t understand and creatures that might seem godlike but are in reality just more powerful than most.”

The remark made Avera think of Zhos. In its case, it did seem to have immortality and power, but it was not entirely invulnerable. After all, humans had managed to trap it.

“So which house is the captain’s?” Avera asked as she eyed the many buildings and streets splitting off in all directions.

“The biggest of course,” scoffed Simhi.

It shouldn’t have surprised her when Simhi pointed to the castle.