Page 33

Three Days Later

S he’d taken the bloody pin from the tiller assembly.

Sitting in an old tavern on the river’s edge in the sleepy village of Combwich, Declan knew for a fact that his mother had taken the small piece of iron so the ships couldn’t be steered.

Not only that, but the men left shipboard to guard the vessels were loyal to his mother and wouldn’t let him on board without her permission.

Declan had been planning on overwhelming them when he realized the missing pin situation on an exterior perusal of the ships.

Now, those left on board were keeping everyone off with crossbows and his entire plan to confiscate the two San Miguel vessels was in ruins.

Damnation!

Now he sat in this dirty tavern, with dirty women and dirty people, as his own men wandered around the town, probably stealing and God only knew what else.

Declan wasn’t one to supervise them or even keep them in line.

He was only worried about himself, and that had always been the case.

Today, in particular, he was only thinking about himself and, in fact, was sulking as he steadily consumed the cheap ale that had been cut with water right out of a swamp.

It tasted horrible. But it was enough to make him tipsy and, strangely, that helped him think straight.

He was going to leave his mother.

More precisely, he was going to leave her command and start his own.

Those ships moored in the river were going to be his as soon as he could find a smithy to make the pin that his mother had so thoughtfully taken.

She always seemed to be one step ahead of him, which was thoroughly annoying, but that was going to end.

He was going to strike out on his own.

At some point, he’d gather the men who came with him and they would devise a plan to remove the guards from the vessels.

There were about twenty-five of them between both ships and Declan only had eighteen men with him, but those eighteen were the toughest of the tough.

Men who didn’t want to serve under a woman any longer.

They wanted the prestige of serving under a man who would let them do as they pleased.

Declan already had a name for his group.

The Fomorians.

He grinned as he thought of that, naming his band of pirates after the most horrifying creatures of Celtic legend. He wanted to live up to the name, to become legendary in both deed and destruction. Malevolence was his middle name.

Finally, he was going to be able to live the way he wanted to live.

As he sat there and pondered his future, he had a clear view of the vessels on the river.

He also had a clear view of the river itself, and he saw, very clearly, when a large, well-appointed cog came down the waterway and stopped behind his mother’s ships.

The ship dropped anchor in the river, right in the middle of it, blocking any traffic that might be coming up, or down, the river.

That was when things began to get interesting.

As Declan watched, he could see men coming over the rail of the boat and shouting to the men who were guarding the two Medusa vessels. There was a lot of shouting going on, and when the men from the river boat tried to board, the crossbows came out and a battle ensued.

By this time, everyone in the tavern was looking from the windows, watching the battle.

There were a great many men from the big ship trying to board the two other vessels, but the Medusa men were determined to prevent them.

Fascinated, as well as concerned, Declan stood up from his table and went to the window with the others, watching the scene unfold.

And what a scene it was.

A full-scale battle was happening on the river’s edge of sleepy Combwich.

Amazingly, the men from the larger ship were ultimately unable to board the two Medusa vessels, and when one did manage to get on board, he was stabbed through the belly and thrown into the river.

As this was going on, two cannons from the larger ship were being lined up and two explosions rang out, one after the other.

The cannons shot off the rudders of both Medusa vessels.

Everyone in the tavern jumped back, away from the windows, but Declan remained, shocked at what he’d just seen.

Clearly, the men from the larger vessel couldn’t board the two smaller cogs and had made sure the ships couldn’t leave.

As he watched, the men from the large vessel began to move toward the shore, swarming on the river’s edge before moving into the village.

They were heading toward the tavern.

The terrified tavernkeep rushed to the front door and threw the bolt to stop them from entering, but Declan called out to the man.

“If ye do that, they’ll burn this place around us,” he said. “Open the door. Let them in. If they steal from us, at least we’ll emerge with our lives and ye’ll emerge with yer building intact. And offer them free drink, too. Trust me on this. Ye dunna want tae make them angry.”

The man was absolutely panicked, but he listened.

He unlocked the bolt and yanked the door open, giving what were clearly a group of pirates access to his establishment.

The patrons inside, Declan included, began pouring their coin into their cups or into their food, hopefully hiding it from those who intended to take it.

And they waited.

It wasn’t a long wait, however, and soon enough, men began to pour in through the open door.

The tavernkeep was there to greet them, pretending to welcome them, hoping that would mitigate any damage.

He offered them free food and drink and every man accepted the offer.

The tavernkeep even moved them over to a side of the common room that didn’t have many people in it, telling them that it was their own private area.

He did everything he could to make them feel welcome and, for the moment, it was working. No fights, no stealing.

Watching all of this, Declan sank back into his seat.

He wasn’t sure who these men were, but they were organized.

The ship moored out in the river was large and well appointed.

These were pirates—he knew the breed—but they weren’t any pirates he was acquainted with.

He knew Santiago de Fernandez’s group, and he also knew St. Abelard’s Triton’s Hellions, but this group… He had no idea who they were.

And that made him quite curious.

Who were these men?

Over at the tables where the pirates were drinking and eating, one man in particular caught his eye.

He was young, dark-haired, and went around making sure all of his men were having a good time, like the host of a party.

It was that same young man who moved away from the group and began to shout in the middle of the common room.

“I am looking for someone and I am willing to pay!” he announced. “I am looking for the men who were aboard those ships on the shore. They are led by a woman and I want to talk to that woman. I will pay handsomely for anyone who can tell me where they are.”

That statement brought a bolt of shock through Declan, but he didn’t respond to it.

Not right away. He simply sat there near the window overlooking the river, cup of ale in hand, and wondered what in the hell this man wanted with his mother.

Not that he was protecting the woman, but he didn’t want to be the focus of an attack if the man had a vendetta against Maude.

But the man didn’t give up. He didn’t look angry, or even peeved, that no one had responded.

He began to walk around the room, pointing to the ships and asking questions.

Everyone he spoke with couldn’t tell him who those ships belonged to, and all the while, Declan knew the man would eventually come to him.

He had to come up with a plan, and it all centered around one thing—if he truly wanted to take command of Medusa’s Disciples, then he would have to get rid of his mother.

Remove her somehow. Not necessarily kill her, but remove her. Her and Francis.

Perhaps this mysterious stranger would help with that plan.

So he sat and drank, waiting for the man to come to his table, which he eventually did. Declan looked up from his ale, casually, as the man stood over him.

“Have you seen the woman who commands those ships, my friend?” he asked, pointing out toward the river. “I am willing to pay handsomely for information if you have.”

Declan approached his answer carefully. “A runaway wife, mayhap?” he said, trying to make light of it. “Women are nothing but trouble.”

The man grinned. “Not a wife,” he said. “Not my wife, anyway. But she was my father’s wife and he loved her dearly. Do you live in this village? Have you seen any unfamiliar women?”

Declan indicated the seat across from him. “Sit down,” he said. “Let me buy ye a meal. A drink, mayhap. Let us speak on this woman ye’re looking for.”

The man pulled out a chair. “Can you help me?”

“Possibly. My name is Declan, by the way. And ye?”

“Arnaldo,” the man said as he sat. “I am the Duc de Tarragona. Before you call me a liar, know that it is true.”

Declan smiled faintly. “The Sea God.”

The man’s smile vanished. “How would you know that?”

Declan waved the tavernkeep over, demanding drink, before he replied. “Because ye are looking for the Portuguese princess,” he said. “But I think ye are looking for Bloody Maude most of all.”

Arnaldo suddenly produced a dagger, pressing the tip at Declan’s throat before he could draw another breath. “Tell me who you are and how you know that,” he spat. “Tell me before my dagger cuts off your head.”

“Do that and ye’ll never know.”

He had a point. Arnaldo pondered that for a moment before sheathing the dirk, but his expression was still suspicious.

“Tell me how you know who I am and who I seek,” he demanded.

Declan remained calm. “Because I want what ye want,” he said. “I want tae see Bloody Maude put in her place. I’ll tell ye where she is if ye promise not tae kill her, but only take her captive. Take her far away and put her in a place she canna escape from.”

Arnaldo’s expression grew puzzled. “Why?” he said. “What is she to you?”

“My mother.”

Arnaldo’s eyes widened. “You are a son of Bloody Maude?”

Declan nodded. “I am,” he said. “And her fleet should be mine.”

Arnaldo was genuinely surprised. “She took my ships.”

“She captured the stepmother ye speak of.”

“She did!” Arnaldo said with enthusiasm. “Where is Astria?”

“Married tae my brother,” Declan said. “Maudie brought her all the way tae Devon tae give her over tae my brother, who serves at Blackchurch. He’s a trainer there.

He also inherited my father’s titles and lands, so although I dunna want ye tae kill Maude, I would be in yer debt if ye were tae kill my brother. ”

Arnaldo leaned on the table, clearly getting more than he’d hoped for in this conversation. “I’m listening,” he said. “What about your brother?”

“He’s the Earl of Lismore,” Declan said. “That means Astria is the new countess. If ye kill my brother, the title goes tae me and ye can have his widow. Ye did want her, did ye not? Or is it Maude ye want?”

Arnaldo shrugged. “I’ll take both of them,” he said. “But if I kill your brother, what is in it for me?”

“Ye can moor yer ships in Scotland,” Declan said. “The earldom of Lismore has four islands, and I’d give ye one of them. Ye could moor yer ships there and ye’d have an ally in Medusa’s Disciples. Together, we would be a formidable force.”

It was an enticing offer. Arnaldo sat back in his chair as the tavernkeep brought another cup and a big pitcher of ale. As the man scampered off, the smile returned to Arnaldo’s face.

“I will consider it,” he said. “The alliance, I mean. I’ll kill your brother without expecting recompense because he’s married to Astria and I want her. I’ll also take your mother with me and make it so she will never return.”

“Good,” Declan said, satisfied. “But dunna think this will be easy.”

“Why not?”

“Because both women are at the Blackchurch Guild,” Declan said. “Ye know where that is?”

Arnaldo shook his head. “I do not,” he said. “But I know that Blackchurch and Triton’s Hellions are linked by blood. Everyone knows that.”

“They are.”

“Where is Blackchurch?”

Declan pointed west. “There is a road from this village that heads west,” he said. “Follow it until ye come tae a town called Exebridge. Blackchurch is about a mile away.”

“And that is where I’ll find Bloody Maude and the dowager Duchess de Tarragona?”

“Aye,” Declan said. He drained what was left in his cup before continuing. “In fact, I’ll go with ye. Ye’ll need my help finding them or the Blackchurch Guild will let loose on ye and ye’ll not survive. Ye need me for this, trust me.”

Arnaldo didn’t have much of a choice. He wanted something. Declan said he knew where it was. If he didn’t, then Arnaldo would kill him.

It was all quite simple.

Before the hour was up, they were heading west to Exebridge.