Cutlass (10 page)

Barren watched the blade beneath his sketch book shine under the moonlight. It was the one William had used to kill his father. Barren had washed away all the blood himself, tears plaguing his face all the while. He couldn’t help thinking that if he had called out to his father, maybe he would have been alive today. But there was something in Jess’s eyes...a resolution that made the pirate wonder if it really would have mattered.

Leaf approached and peered down at Barren’s sketchbook. His fist rested over his drawing, and the pencil poised in his hand was still. “Nice drawing…Larkin, is it?” asked the Elf, taking a seat next to Barren. “Interesting, considering you look as though you might stick that blade through those two.”

“I
might
stick the girl,” replied Barren coldly.

“She’s done nothing to earn your punishment, and no—undermining your authority doesn’t qualify. Though, they have been carrying on for
ages
,” Leaf rolled his eyes and covered his ears. “None of you have respect for the Elf—I can hear
everything.
For once, someone should sympathize with me.”

Barren smiled, but he didn’t say anything. Leaf waited a moment before he continued.

“She sure did test your nerves today.” A smirk played across his lips. “I will say that I am proud of you. You’d have killed anyone else who dared to do what she did.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Barren said in protest, closing his sketch book.

Leaf gave the pirate a dull look. “You are used to being obeyed. It’s nice to have someone who can order you around.”

Barren frowned.

“She won’t be doing that much longer. I intend to put her on a ship and send her back home.”

“Well now, this whole thing would seem a little pointless then, wouldn’t it?”

“You were right. I shouldn’t have kidnapped her.”

Leaf smiled, and Barren saw all the mischievousness of his Elvish heritage in that one look. “Did you ever think that you weren’t the one who kidnapped her? Maybe she kidnapped us?”

Barren’s brows came together for a moment, then he shook his head. “She doesn’t even know what she wants…”

“Sounds familiar,” mused Leaf, resting his chin in his hands.

“I mean, look, she says she’ll marry William, but she finds Mr. Pirate-Politician over there a charming substitute! How does that even make sense?”

“You sound jealous,” said Leaf.

“I’m not jealous,” Barren averted his eyes and toyed with the worn leather binding on his book.

Leaf stared at him and his eyes glazed over as if he didn’t care to hear Barren deny how he felt. So what if he were jealous? What was it to the Elf? It was one thing to know Larkin hated him for what he was. It was another thing to witness her girlish affection for a man who was no different from him.

“Look, Leaf,” he said with a sigh. “While I’ve not made the best decisions in the world, all I’ve ever tried to do is right a wrong.”

Leaf’s features softened at Barren’s confusion. “Barren,” he said quietly. “We are all here because we believe what you are doing is right. Granted, not all of what you do is particularly good, but your goal is what keeps us all together. Never forget that. All of us here—we are loyal to you and your father’s memory.”

Barren had nothing to say, but he nodded his head, suddenly overcome with exhaustion.

“Now, go lie down. With the way these Elvish ships ride, we’ll be at Silver Crest in no time.”

Barren stood without another word and walked to the corner of the ship where blankets were piled for him and his crew. He sheathed his sword, keeping it close to him as he lay down and fell into a deep sleep.

***

“Who is Albatross?” Larkin thought he sounded rather unpleasant. She imagined a dirty sort of man—old, maybe missing his teeth. “Are you really a pirate, Jonathan? You can tell me—I won’t expose you.” Words poured out of Larkin’s mouth as she attempted to register what was going on with the man before her. She couldn’t believe someone she’d known for years, someone who had seemed so loyal to the crown, was now a pirate.

Jonathan smiled. “Albatross is a good friend, Lady, and I am sorry to disappoint you, but I joined the code of Silver Crest not three days ago.”

Larkin frowned. “But why?”

“Because I believe in a free world.”

“But…how did you get involved in this, when you, of all people, have been freer than most?”

“Well that’s exactly it. How fair is it that no others in this world are allowed the opportunities I have been given just because of my parentage? I daresay, Lady Larkin, haven’t you always been the rebellious type? Does this life not seem to suit you more than the one you were born into?”

“I cannot answer that in fairness,” Larkin said, “as I don’t know what it means to be a pirate.”

“Ah, but what it means to be a pirate is simple. A pirate loves the sea and revels in his freedom.”

Larkin glanced over her shoulder; she watched as Barren lay down to sleep. She did not miss the exhaustion tearing at his features or the distress in his eyes. As he pulled the covers over his body and laid his arm over his sword, she let out a low breath, feeling overwhelmed. Jonathan caught her gaze and smirked.

“How do you like him?” he asked.

She looked away from Barren quickly, gazing out at the ocean. The waves were silver under the moon. “Like? There is nothing to like. He is mean and barbaric,” she shook her head. There was nothing she could like about a man who found her to be a mistake. “He is stubborn and immature…”

“And it sounds like you’re reading from a list you’ve made of things to hate about him.”

Larkin frowned. “He’s a bad man, Jonathan.”

“Oh? How so?”

“I need not enlighten you. He was a second away from killing you before you opened your mouth about
Albatross
—whoever that is,” she said, surprised that she even had to explain herself. It was that one little act that made all her assumptions about Barren’s character seem completely true. “And I know you’ve heard the stories. He stakes out the coast of Maris, intent to kill any who leaves the shore. He thinks it will somehow convince William to fight him, when all he does is damn himself.”

“You are very unreasonable, Lady,” he said. “Barren has seen things no child should see. You know he watched William murder his father in cold blood, and your father is to blame for that.”

A lump rose in Larkin’s throat. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard your father talk about how Jess was one of his greatest enemies. Your father is the one responsible for sowing the seed of power in William. Your father bribed William to get what he wanted. All it took was Lord Lee promising William status, wealth…and his daughter to convince him to kill Jess.”

Larkin shook her head. “That cannot be true.”

But the look on Jonathan’s face told her it was. “I’m afraid so. Your father planned your engagement long ago. Much more than three weeks ago, I assure you. Your future was determined when Jess Reed’s ended.”

Nothing in the world could have prepared Larkin for this news. She had been more prepared for Barren’s kidnapping than this. Her chest felt tight and her heart pounded painfully against her ribcage, driving home the realization that, not only had part of her been responsible for what Barren had become, but her father had used her as a puppet to achieve his greatest wish—the death of Jess Reed. Though Larkin did not agree with piracy, the means her father took to accomplish his goal shocked her. If there was truth to this—any truth at all—it meant her father was partly responsible for leaving Barren fatherless.

“It was not your fault, what happened to Barren,” Jonathan reminded her gently.

“So I was a tool?” she questioned quietly. “I was…an
object.
”

Larkin constantly attempted to please her father, to get his attention. He was always so busy, locking himself in his study all hours of the night. Sometimes, she would hear objects slamming against the wall or glass breaking, as if hurled by a man in a state of rage. Once she’d tried to see if he was okay, but he had ordered her away.

“If you knew, why didn’t you tell me?”

Jonathan was quiet for a moment. She could tell he was choosing his words carefully. He was hiding something.

“We all have reasons for our secrets, Larkin.” She was surprised by his answer—she expected him to talk his way around her question. Instead he was doing something worse, acknowledging that this was just the beginning.

“That’s not answering my question.”

“Enough questions will be answered once we’re in Silver Crest,” he said. “By then you’ll regret asking just one.”

Larkin didn’t like the sound of that. “Did Barren know? Is that why he targeted me?”

“I’m not certain what Barren knows about you,” said Jonathan. “My guess would be he merely saw you as an easy way to lure William to sea.”

Larkin grasped the rails of the ship until her knuckles were white. She didn’t like that at all, and it deepened her animosity toward Barren. He had also seen her as a way to get what he wanted, just something he could cast aside as soon as he was finished. Well, she wouldn’t be that easy to get rid of; she would make sure of that.

She could feel Jonathan’s gaze on her, and she glanced at him. Seeing his sympathetic stare made her blush. Now self-conscious, she released the rails, her fingers tight with pain.

“Get some sleep. We’re still a ways from Silver Crest and we haven’t reached the hardest part of the sea yet.”

Larkin reluctantly moved toward the captain’s cabin—Jonathan had given up his quarters earlier in the day, and though Larkin attempted to refuse, he would not hear of it. She was thankful for a bed. She had slept slumped over the night before and now her muscles were knotted.

As she approached the cabin, her eyes fell on Barren. His sleeping figure seemed to be lost in peaceful slumber, but as she got closer, she could tell he was having a nightmare. His brows were furrowed deeply and his jaw set tight. She was conscious that Jonathan was watching her, so she swept through the doors of the cabin as quickly as she could, taking in Barren’s pained expression. As she lay down to sleep, she decided one day she would ask him what he had been dreaming.

***

Sometime in the night, Larkin was startled out of her sleep by furious shouts. Her blankets were so warm and her sleep so deep, she thought she was back in her own bed in Maris, but reality hit her as she opened her eyes and remembered she was on a ship. She listened for a moment: rain tapped against the windows, feet pounded on the deck outside, and the ship itself moaned as it charged against the water. She guessed they were closer to Silver Crest.

Curious, she crawled out of bed and hurried outside, only to be met with chaos. The wind blew hard; the rain came down in horizontal sheets, falling upon her in waves of coldness. She was instantly drenched and chilled to the bone, but she couldn’t allow herself to go inside. The battle between the ship and the elements was too fascinating. Lightning flashed so often it was easy to see the men on deck running around, some securing weapons, others tangled in the sails, trying to collapse them before the wind ripped them from their place. The ship itself rose with the hectic waves, stumbling over the harshness of the Orient. Larkin suddenly wondered how it was so easy for pirates to love something this vicious.

“Lady Larkin! You should not be out here!”

She heard Jonathan’s voice from across the deck. She could see his outline, a rope in hand, trying to help the others with the sails. Larkin ignored him and turned to see Barren at the helm—his eyes dead set in front of him, as if he could peel back the darkness and see the route ahead. He had no aid of a map or compass, and it seemed like every slight turn of the wheel was an intuitive decision. Were these the skills of a pirate or a result of his half-Elf heritage? She stared out at the sea and in that moment, she could see beyond the curtain of water, into the churning ocean. It was dark and endless, but she had the sense that she was not in danger. She turned to look at Barren again—perhaps this was his thought?

His eyes met hers and she gripped the rail beneath her hands tighter as the sea thrashed about. Barren’s gaze was untouched by anger, and she found it hard to look away—water beaded off of him and his hair stuck to his face. He had shed his usual jacket in favor of a white shirt. The fabric clung to his body, muscles rippling beneath. He was fascinating, beautiful in a terrifying and rough way. Barren smirked and she looked away quickly, wondering what he had seen.

The ship lurched violently, and Larkin lost her balance near the rail. She tumbled over and screamed. It felt as if her heart was going to burst out of her chest even before she hit the water. When she did, fear froze her. She hadn’t had time to hold her breath, no time to close her mouth. Water filled her lungs, and she panicked. She moved her arms in tireless circles in an attempt to break the surface.

When she broke through, she gasped for air. “Someone help me!” she screamed. But who would help her? To leave the ship was asking for death, she thought helplessly. All around her was dark water, except for the violent flashes of lightning striking the sky. Her body ricocheted between the waves.

“Larkin!” she heard her name called and she cried out in reaction.

“I’m over here!” her voice was raw. She continued to move her arms to stay above the water, but she was tired. She could only do so much to keep her body afloat as the waves thrashed her about in nauseating circles. Another wave barreled toward her, and she was plunged into the water. This time, she wasn’t sure she could make it to the surface, though she fought with all her might. She moved her arms desperately, but they were like lead. She opened her eyes and closed them quickly. All was dark.

She had never imagined such a horrific way to die. Her lungs felt like they were going to burst, her chest ached; her heart beat so erratically, she was sure it would explode. What would happen to her body? Would she float away to some foreign shore? Would she ever be discovered? Would her father ever know that Barren had, indeed, not killed her?