Page 8 of The Summons (Legend of the King’s Ring #1)

T

he ghouls returned—demons or whatever they were—drifting in and out of Blake’s vision, hovering against the bulkhead, shapeless figures with dark, malevolent eyes. The old Jewish pirate had told Blake that the Ring could command demons. Yet when Blake ordered them away this time, they remained.

Perhaps he didn’t know the proper commands. Perhaps he needed to send them on a mission.

Perhaps he was merely going mad.

He rubbed his throbbing temples when Pedro knocked and entered the cabin with Miss Hyde in tow.

Even in her wrinkled gown and hastily pinned-up hair, she was a vision of light and beauty, a natural beauty devoid of most women’s spurious attempts to enhance what nature provided.

She halted in the middle of the cabin, hands clasped before her, eyes locked upon him.

The demons instantly vanished.

Not only in sight, but their ceaseless chanting dissipated into silence. Pure, peaceful silence .

Even Bandit leapt from his corner and dashed toward the lady.

Surprised, she caught him in her arms, the force of him nearly knocking her over. He clung to her as a babe would his mother and, though clearly startled, she caressed his fur.

“Shh now, has the captain been mean to you?” She glanced up at Blake. “Should we add torturing small animals to your list of crimes, Captain?”

Bandit jabbered at the lady as if answering her, and the oddest thing happened. Blake could have sworn he understood the monkey saying something about ghosts in the cabin.

Aye, definitely going mad.

“Do have a seat, Miss Hyde.” He gestured toward a chair.

“I’d rather stand.” She set Bandit down and lifted her pert little nose. “Unless you have summoned me with the intention of setting me free, I find myself loathing your company.”

Blake chuckled. “Indeed? I should have you flogged for your brazen tongue.”

A spark of terror flashed across her eyes. Regardless, she stood her ground. “I am not one of your crew, Captain, who cannot speak their minds freely. Nor should any real gentleman threaten a lady with such barbarity.”

“A gentleman, am I?” Oddly, the ache in Blake’s head lessened, and he found himself smiling at their banter. The heaviness that had weighed upon him all night lifted, and he felt refreshed…hopeful, even.

“Nay, do not flatter yourself, Captain. A gentleman you will never be.”

Blake laughed. “Nor do I wish to be a goose-witted dandy who cowers for the favors of the opposite sex.”

“You deceive yourself if that is your assessment of a gentleman.” As if taxed by the conversation, she moved to sit in the chair. Bandit leapt into her lap.

“Do regale me, Miss, with your understanding of the role.”

“’Tis no role, but qualities that make a true man—Godliness, honor, integrity, courage, and being a champion of the weak.”

“Humph.” Blake poured himself a sip of rum. “I have found none of those qualities in any gentleman I have met.”

“Then you have not met a true gentleman.”

He tossed the rum to the back of his throat, then set the glass down and studied her. Rays of sunlight shifted over her cheeks in streaks of glittering gold. Thick lashes circled her luminous golden eyes. Spirals of chestnut-colored hair dangled over her shoulders as she gently petted Bandit.

The traitorous monkey leaned his head against her breast, smiling, and Blake suddenly wished he could do the same.

He shook off the sentiment. What was wrong with him? “Quite impressive the way you set Maston in his place.”

She smiled and the entire cabin seemed brighter. “I could hardly allow him to harm Charlie.”

“You and she have become friends.”

“I wouldn’t call it that.” Sorrow tainted her tone.

“Regardless, I wouldn’t have expected…” He sighed, unsure he wished to insult the lady, for he was enjoying their conversation.

“Me to point a cutlass at anyone?” She arched a brow. “You forget who my father is.”

Hardly. ’Twas because of precisely who her father was that he could not keep her. He frowned. Too bad, for he found the idea of having this lovely sprite around appealing. He gripped the black cross around his neck, balancing his feet on the deck as the ship heaved over a wave.

Placing Bandit down, she rose, her jaw tightening. “He will find me. He is not one to give up. And when he finds this bucket of imbeciles you call a pirate ship, he will sink you to the depths.”

b

Emeline had no idea where her sudden courage sprouted from. Nor her brazen tongue. She’d never been fearless like her parents and siblings. She knew all too well that she was at this pirate’s mercy, a man who had proven himself to be anything but a gentleman. And nothing like her father.

Instead of his eyes narrowing in fury. Instead of charging toward her with the intent to do her harm, he laughed.

Laughed ?

Bandit joined him, hopping up and down and squeaking like a mouse.

“You find me amusing, Captain?”

“Very.” He contained himself and poured more rum into his glass.

“I have seen naught that pits your skill above my father’s at sea battling.” She gestured toward his hand. “Save for this Ring you say has power.”

He touched it, grinning. “Indeed. And it has more than proven itself.”

“Then what need have you of me? Release me, I beg you.” She hated the tinge of fear in her voice.

“Beg? Somehow that does not become you.”

“You mistake me again for your crew, Captain, for, unlike a pirate, I harbor no exaggerated opinion of myself that forbids me to grovel for my freedom.”

He sipped his rum, studying her with interest. “Hmm. I sense I have been insulted.”

She would insult him further if she had the courage. As it was, she tightened her lips and assessed him. A leather jerkin hung over a cream-colored shirt that spanned across broad shoulders. Wavy dark hair drifted over his collar, matching the stubble on his chin and thin mustache. But ’twas those almond-shaped green eyes, staring at her with such intensity, that sent a quiver through her. The stern rose and fell, shifting light over the black pearl in his ear and odd emblems dangling around his neck. He was an imposing man who displayed confidence and leadership and evoked loyalty among the crew. But she sensed an emptiness in his soul.

He walked steadily toward her.

Her heart quickened. Her breathing came hard. Still, she refused to cower before this man.

He halted inches from her, his gaze traveling over her face, not in anger, rather as someone studying a curiosity. The scent of rum, leather, and the sea flooded her nose.

“You don’t fear me?” he asked.

“Should I?”

A vision. An older man with a sword wound. Accusations, hatred, and violence all tangled into a web of evil in her spirit. She dared stare into the captain’s eyes. Darkness swirled in their depths.

He cocked his head…lifted a hand.

She didn’t flinch.

Then, ever so gently, he ran the back of his fingers over her cheek. Not in a harsh way, nor a sensuous way, but…tenderly.

He drew closer, his lips hovering over hers.

Her pulse raced. She closed her eyes.

Warmth spiraled through her. Warmth… and terror.

“As soft as it looks,” he whispered so close, she felt his breath on her cheek.

Was he to ravish her? Moisture filled her eyes. She opened them. “Please let me go. I will bring you no pleasure, I assure you.”

One side of his lips quirked. “I doubt that.”

Her pulse pounded so loud, she feared it could be heard over the rush of water against the hull.

The monkey leapt onto the captain’s desk and squealed loudly as if attempting to draw his master’s attention away from her.

“But ’tis good to see that you are indeed afraid of me.” Turning, he sauntered away.

Emeline took a moment to settle both her breathing and her heart. “Why is that good? Is it your goal that all, men, women, and animals”—she gestured to Bandit—“tremble before your majesty?”

“Hmm. Something like that.” He leaned back against his desk and crossed arms over his chest.

“Tactics no gentleman should employ.”

“Again with the gentleman.”

Sorrow claimed her heart for this man. Something terrible had happened to him. “You could be, you know.”

“Too late for that, I’m afraid.” He gripped the golden emblem hanging around his neck.

“Someone betrayed you.” She sensed it, though she knew not how.

He snapped his gaze to her. “An easy guess, Miss. Everyone has been betrayed by someone.”

“I have not.”

He studied her, then pushed from his desk and walked to look out the stern windows.

Bandit followed and settled into a patch of warm sunlight.

“Then you are most fortunate,” he said, still gazing out upon the sea. “But why should I expect otherwise when you have been raised by parents who love you and have a family who cares for you?”

His words floated through the cabin in a dark mist of sorrow and anger. She swallowed a lump of emotion. This man had been terribly hurt. She knew it. But what to do? How to reach him?

He spun to face her. “I saw you in the market with them. You were giving food and clothing to the poor. Why? Why would a dreaded pirate give anything away for free?”

Shock buzzed through Emeline. “To help the unfortunate, of course. To give them hope.”

“Pish!” He snorted. “You give them food for a day or two and then leave. How is that hope?”

The deck heaved and shouts echoed from above. Emeline gripped the edge of the desk to steady herself, debating whether to bother telling this volatile man about Jesus. “We give people hope by telling them there is a life beyond this one, an eternal paradise, and a God who offers them a way there through His Son.” There, she’d said it. Come what may.

Instead of the fury and disgust she’d endured from many people she’d witnessed to, this man merely stared at her as if a halo had appeared atop her head. Bandit, however, leapt up and down on the window ledge with glee. Smart monkey.

Blake frowned. “I didn’t take you for a fool, Miss. Only fat wits believe in myths. For even if this God of yours exists, He takes no care for His creation.”

Emeline raised her brows and gestured to the Ring on his finger. “This from a man who believes a Ring has magical powers. And I’m the fool?”

Fury stiffened his jaw. He rubbed the stubble on it, eyes narrowing.

She swallowed hard. Perhaps she’d finally overstepped.

b

Hang it! This woman and her brazen tongue. She dared call him a fool! The man who held her life in his hands. How utterly surprising…completely baffling… and quite refreshing. Not once had she used her feminine wiles to seduce him. Not once had she played the coquette in order to gain her freedom. If he were honest, it might have worked, for he found himself completely enchanted by her—a rather foreign sensation.

And that must never be. He touched the Ring, studying her. Too much was at stake for him to be distracted by a woman— any woman.

“I will set you free on the first civilized island we encounter, Miss.” He poured more rum, finding he needed its numbing effect at the moment. “Until then, please remain in your cabin where your needs will be provided.”

He could tell from the look in her eyes she didn’t know whether to believe him or not. No matter. The sooner he was rid of this mystifying woman, the better.

b

Emeline emerged from below deck to a glorious salty breeze that caressed her skin and ran cool fingers through her hair. She’d felt the brig slowing, heard the orders to lower and furl sail, then detected the mighty splash of the anchor. Yet she’d been unable to determine where they were from the limited scope of her porthole. Now, closing her eyes, she raised her face to the warm sunlight, relishing the feel of it—of being outside once again. Until Finn all but shoved her from behind.

“Quit dawdling, wench.”

She stumbled across the deck, only then seeing that they had anchored in Basseterre Bay of St. Kitts Island. She recognized the port immediately, for she’d been there before with her family. Hope sprang in her bosom, a hope that had long since dwindled from spending two days alone in her cabin. Loneliness had done a dire work on her, torturing, taunting, and filling her head with thoughts of never seeing her family again. Yet now…perhaps Captain Keene intended to keep his promise, after all. If so, a surprising turn of events.

Speaking of the captain, she lifted her gaze to the quarterdeck where Rummy, who stood by the helm, gave her a cursory glance before looking away. The captain was nowhere in sight. No doubt she’d surpassed his tolerable limits of insults from a woman and intended to send her ashore without a farewell.

For some reason, the thought saddened her. During her long hours alone, she’d realized she had failed him somehow. Here was a tortured man, and she had the means to help him. Instead, she’d used her tongue for evil and not good. No doubt her siblings would already have had him on his knees in repentance, devoting his life to serving God and man. She blew out a sigh as Pedro bounded over the deck and halted before her.

“I’m goin’ to miss you, Miss.” He ran a hand through his thick reddish hair and grinned. “It’s nice havin’ a real lady on board.”

Finn nudged her to the railing. “Stay put till the cap’n sees ye off.” Trudging away, he shouted orders for the boat to be lowered, sending pirates rushing to unhook the craft from its moorings.

“Don’t mind him, Miss. He don’t care for women much.” Pedro leaned on the railing and gazed over the bay.

Turquoise waters, sparkling in the morning sun, led up to the city where citizens, slaves, wagons, and carriages hastened down the cobblestone streets. Wooden docks reached into the bay toward several anchored merchant ships unloading goods into boats. Beyond the row of buildings, mountains rose, some capped with billowy clouds and all covered with lush greenery. The chime of bells, clank of wagon wheels, shouts, and the squawk of pelicans as they dove for fish in the water was music to Emeline’s ears. At least on land she’d have a chance to send word to her father.

She turned to Pedro. “I shall miss you, too, Pedro.” A speck of innocence still sparkled in the lad’s eyes, a speck that would fade if he continued this life. But how to help him? “You could come with me. Turn away from a life of thievery and debauchery.”

“Ah, nay, Miss. I ain’t good for much else. At least here the captain can teach me to be useful.”

“Why do you think you would not be useful elsewhere in a goodlier endeavor?”

Maston directed the men as they lowered the jollyboat over the side of the ship, casting occasional glances her way.

The lad chuckled. “I ain’t smart enough, Miss, nor good enough. Leastways my parents didn’t think so.” His countenance fell. “They left me to rot at a monastery in Cartegena.”

Emeline bit her lip, forcing back tears. So many orphans wandered the streets of Caribbean cities, hungry, without hope, feeling worthless. Clasping the boy’s shoulder, she leaned to stare into his eyes. “Never rely on anyone’s opinion of you, not even your parents’, to determine your worth. Every soul is highly valued by God.”

The boy seemed to ponder this for a moment but then shrugged. “I don’t know about God, Miss. All I know is I ain’t nearly as smart as most.”

Emeline released a sigh and faced the city again. “Never compare yourself to others, Pedro.”

“Get back t’ work, ye half-masted rodent!” Finn’s shout straightened Pedro’s shoulders, and he smiled at Emeline and sped away.

Emeline watched the boy leave, only then seeing Charlie standing by one of the nine-pounders, staring over the city of Basseterre, a forlorn look tugging on her features.

Emeline inched closer. “Do you hail from here?”

She shook her head and sniffed, turning her face away, though not before Emeline saw moisture in her eyes. “Nay. It’s jist good t’ see land again.” The slight crack in her voice spoke otherwise.

“Thank you for befriending me, Charlie. I shall never forget you.”

Surprise lit her expression, followed by a rare smile. “I will be coming ashore, Miss.”

“With me?” Emeline allowed a moment of comfort to soften her fears.

“Aye, but not wit’ you. I have business t’ attend, and the cap’n granted me a few hours leave.”

Finn grabbed Emeline’s elbow and dragged her away.

“Time t’ go, wench.”

She attempted to jerk from his grasp, but to no avail. Ship of misfits, indeed. All in need of hope. And all in need of the love of God.

The pirates seemed surprised when she navigated the rope ladder with ease. Once settled on the thwarts of the teetering boat, she glanced up in search of the captain, but he was nowhere in sight. Charlie soon followed, taking a seat at the bow away from Emeline. Odd.

She’d no time to ponder it when Bandit clambered down the ropes and bounded into her lap.

Startled at first, Emeline scratched his head. “Well, hello, little one. I shall miss you as well.”

“Get back t’ the ship, ye slimy vermin!” One of the pirates headed toward them, balancing in the boat. “The cap’n will have me ’ide if ye get lost.”

Bandit grabbed Emeline’s hand, placed something hard against her palm, then leapt back onto the rope ladder and clambered above.

The pirate vomited a mound of curses on the monkey, the place of his birth, and his equally repugnant relatives.

Ropes were freed, men settled on thwarts, and oars were clamped in oarlocks as they shoved off from the Summons .

Emeline waited until no one paid her any mind, then slowly opened her hand.

The Ring of Solomon sparkled in the sunlight.