Blow Me Down (32 page)

“You’ve been playing the game for, what, about two and a half hours now?”

“I have been here for almost two weeks,” I pointed out, my hackles rising. “I’m not going to let some handsome rogue pirate come along and take my island!”

He burst out laughing, holding up a hand as I started to stand up. “Sweetheart, you really are the cutest thing when you get riled up. Sit down and stop looking like you’d like to shish kebab me on that sword. I’d just have to fight you, then, and I’d probably lose, and I don’t think my delicate male ego can stand that.”

I gave him a look that let him know I didn’t appreciate his toying with me. “So you weren’t serious about taking the island away from me?”

“No. You can be governor of all the islands in the Seventh Sea as far as I’m concerned.”

I decided it would be magnanimous to forgive him. “Thank you. I happen to think I’m cut out for this governor thing. But captain . . . that’s a different matter. How about you take over as captain of Bart’s crew? Your men seem to like you, and they certainly respond to your orders better than mine did to mine.”

“I suppose I could,” he agreed. The next half hour was spent hashing out specific terms of the agreement. He promised to keep sufficient men on Turtle’s Back to defend her, to not attack the island while I or my representative was in charge, and to protect us when and if we needed his help against attack from other crews.

“There, I think that’s everything taken care of,” I said, signing my name below Corbin’s. “Perfect! I feel much better knowing there will be no more blockade. Now I can set up some sort of trading program between us and the other islands.”

“Sounds like a good idea, but there are still two issues remaining to be dealt with,” Corbin said, his eyes twinkling.

I rubbed the feathery edge of the quill against my cheek as I mentally ran over the list of items we’d addressed in the nonaggression pact we’d just signed. “Two issues? What two issues? What to do with Pangloss, you mean?”

“No, he’s easily taken care of,” Corbin said as he pulled me to my feet. “The two issues are your refusal to accept the fact that you’re madly, head-over-heels in love with me, and the make-up sex you promised me once we got the blockade ended.”

I thought about refusing him . . . for all of about a second. I’d never been one for much experimentation before I’d met Corbin, but as I sat on the edge of my desk with my legs wrapped around his waist while he pumped hard and fast into me, I decided there was much to be said for having an open mind to new experiences.

The remainder of the day was spent disassembling the blockade, bringing all the ships into the harbor under the terms of our new nonaggression pact. My chat with Pangloss later that evening was less successful.

“Ye sent for me, Amy?” he said as he entered the library. I looked up from the inventory of supplies that Corbin had generously turned over to the town. Pangloss made a face. “Beg pardon, Cap’n Amy.”

I smiled. “Amy is fine. We both know I’m a long way from being a real captain. Which is one of the things I wanted to talk to you about—but before we get to that, would you mind answering a couple of questions?”

“If I can,” he said, shaking his head when I gestured toward the chair. “I’ve things to see to in order to protect us from that devil, lass. I’ll stand, if ye don’t mind.”

“Pangloss,” I said, sighing, “I’ve told you three times now that Corbin has signed a statement saying he will not attack the island so long as I’m governor here. You can stop walking around like a dog with its hackles up just because his crew is in our harbor. They’re only there long enough to unload supplies—supplies we desperately need—then they’ll be gone.”

“Aye, but he’ll be here still,” Pangloss argued, a belligerent set to his face.

“Yes, Corbin will still be here, but that’s at my invitation, so you need to just deal with it and move on. Actually, that’s one of the things I want to talk to you about—how did you find out about the men in your crew dying?”

He looked at me like I was mad. “When we came home the next day, all the women were weepin’, and there was nary a crewmate to be seen.”

“Uh-huh. But did anyone tell you about this big battle that Corbin was supposed to have had? I mean, were there any eyewitness reports to it?”

“I don’t rightly see where ye’re sailin’, lass,” he answered, a confused expression on his face. “The men are dead.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

He shook his head. “No, no one saw the battle itself. It was over on the leeward side of the island—how could they? The only ones what saw it died there.”

“Don’t you think it’s the least bit suspicious that this big battle took place on the other side of the island, where no one saw or heard it? Why would Corbin attack there?”

“ ’Twas so he could set a trap and murder ’em all,” he answered, the confusion changing into a familiar stubborn look.

“Or it was a story put out to explain the sudden disappearance of sixty-five men, carefully crafted so as to focus everyone’s anger on a scapegoat while the real villain was not held accountable for his actions.”

“Ye’ve lost me, lass,” he said, shaking his head.

“What do you know about the mine?” I asked, switching subjects.

“The emerald mine?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“ ’Tis closed now.”

“I know that, but who worked there before it was closed?”

He shrugged. “Townsfolk.”

“Not your crew?”

“Nay, why would they?”

I watched him carefully, but there seemed to be no sign he was lying to me. Then again, there was no proof he was telling the truth. Either he was totally ignorant of what Bart had been up to, or he was putting on a hell of an act.

“What’s your earliest memory, Pangloss?”

He blinked at me, his face having gone blank.

I sighed, aware of a faint feeling that I was missing something important, but I couldn’t for the life of me think of what it was. “Never mind. Go back to what you were doing. We’ll talk more about the crew and the future of the island tomorrow.”

I had a lonely dinner with just Bas after Corbin sent back a note from his flagship saying he and Holder would be tied up with crew duties until later that night. Bas and I investigated the governor’s house, but I decided when I started making a mental list of changes I wanted made in furniture and paint that it was time to get out of there.

“I’m going to go chat with Renata and her ladies,” I told Bas. “You want to come with me?”

He pursed his lips. “Wet Willie said I could help him in the kitchen.”

“Ah. Are you interested in learning how to cook? That’s a very noble profession, and one that I think you could do with just one hand.”

Bas shook his head. Bran bobbed his head up and down and squawked at me, just as if he was laughing. “Nay. Willie said I could watch him cut the heads off the chickens for tomorrow’s supper. Willie says they run around after their heads is off, spurtin’ blood everywhere.”

I stared at him in horror. “You are an unnatural child. When I get out of here, I’m definitely going to have Corbin do something about giving you a new interest.”

“Eh?” he asked, confused.

“Never mind. Enjoy your headless chickens and blood spurting and God knows what else. I’m going to go talk to civilized people.”

Bas trotted off happily enough. I headed down the hill toward the town, carrying a lantern since the moon was hidden behind clouds tonight. A sense of happiness filled me as I made my way through the night. The air was soft and alive with sounds of the distant waves hitting the rocks beyond the harbor, night birds crying high in the sky, and the closer sounds of humans celebrating the arrival of food and drink. Candle- and lamplight flickered in almost every building in the town, spilling out in yellow patches that dappled the cobblestones. Likewise, the ships in the harbor—packed now with Corbin’s large warships—were all lit up, the lights from them dancing and bobbing on the waves. Raucous laughter and strains of a concertina came up from the docks, as well as out the doors and windows of the Inn Cognito. I stood for a moment on the fringes of town, drinking it all in, feeling both a kinship with the people of the island and a strong maternal desire to protect them from evil.

“They’re all my people now,” I said aloud, my voice firm and filled with purpose. “My people and my island, and I’ll be damned before I allow anyone to harm either.”

“Far be it from me to deny ye any wish,” a voice said out of the darkness behind me.

I spun around, my mouth hanging open at the sight of the man who emerged from the shadows, a pistol pointed at my heart.

—Ibid, Act II

“Bart?” I asked, goose bumps marching up my arms at the cold smile he gave me. “Or do you prefer to be called Paul?”

His smile didn’t fade one little bit. “Ye may use either, lass.”

“I think I’ll stick to Bart, if you don’t mind. How did you get here?”

“I’ve me ways. And don’t be thinkin’ to yell for help,” he added as I glanced out of the corner of my eye toward Renata’s house. “I’ve plans for ye yet, but they can be rearranged if I have to kill ye now.”

I crossed my arms. “So, what exactly do you want from me?”

“Right now, ye’re goin’ to come with me. As for later”—his gaze scanned me in a way that left my skin crawling—“well, I’m thinkin’ I’d like to know what charms ye have to keep Corbin’s interest.”

“No,” I said, lifting my chin and giving him a lofty look.

“Nay what?”

“No as in no, I’m not going with you now, and no, my charms are not for examination by anyone other than Corbin.”

He sighed with faux sadness. “I was hopin’ ye’d not come along easily. It’s so much more satisfyin’ this way. Lads?”

Before I could spin around, my arms were roughly wrenched behind me and bound. I shouted with pain, but my cries were quickly muffled by a bandana being shoved in my mouth. I struggled to free my hands, landing a few good kicks on the unknown assailant behind me before someone cracked me on the head, sending me to my knees with pain and disorientation. I was dimly aware of my feet being bound and of being hoisted up on someone’s shoulder, but I must have drifted in and out of consciousness for a while, because the next thing I knew, a cold shock of water hit me.

“Argh!” I spat out a mouthful of water, shaking my head in an attempt to clear both it and the water from my now soaking face. Pain erupted from the back of my head at the movement. I swallowed a couple of times, wondering whether I was going to hang on to my dinner, but after a few seconds the wave of nausea passed and I could take in my surroundings. I was in another ship’s cabin, this one done in dark wood, with navy walls. I’d been tossed on the floor, and I struggled to sit up, my arms cramping as I tried to arrange myself as comfortably as possible by leaning up against a sea chest.

“What is it about me that drives everyone to kidnapping?” I asked pettishly. “At least Corbin managed to do it without giving me a concussion or a rotator cuff tear.”

Bart, aka Paul the evil ex-partner, was strapping on a brace of pistols and didn’t even glance at me. “I trust that ye’ll be comfortable here until I return,” he said, gathering up some papers that looked like maps.

“I doubt that very much; not until you untie me,” I answered crossly, but considering the treatment I’d just survived, I figured I was due a little testiness.

“Ah, lass, would that I could. But I’ll be easier in me thoughts knowin’ ye’re here safely waitin’ for me to come back to ye.”

I thought about rolling my eyes but vetoed the idea on the grounds it might kill me. “You are so going to get it when Corbin finds you,” I said instead.

He just smiled and saluted me with the maps before opening the door to the cabin.

“Hey,” I cried, surprised that he was just going to leave me. “You’re leaving?”

“Aye. I’ve some business with allies.”

“But—but—aren’t you going to tell me why you kidnapped me? Or why you want me? Or what the deal is with trapping us in this game? I think you owe me that, at least!”

He smiled as he looked back at me. “Ye weren’t intended to be a part of this, but I must admit, ye’ve worked quite nicely in me plans.”

“What plans?” I asked, hitching myself to one side in an attempt to ease the strain on my left arm. “Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to ruin Corbin?”

He shook his head. “Lass, lass, lass—ye’ve seen one too many James Bond movies. I’ll not be tellin’ ye all me plans only to have ye escape and run to Corbin. Just sit yerself there, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“The least you can do is tell me why,” I wailed as he walked toward the door. “What do you expect to achieve by keeping us trapped here?”

“Corbin’s destruction, lass. It’s a simple matter, truth be told,” he said, striding back over to me to check my bonds. I lunged sideways and tried to bite his leg. He laughed and sidestepped, returning to the door. “First, I destroy the game. Then his company. Finally, the man himself.”

“You’re insane,” I couldn’t help but say, wondering whether he could truly do what he planned. “There’s no other explanation for leaving me in charge of your crew and the island.”

He laughed, a genuinely amused expression on his face. I wished with all my heart he was within biting distance. “Can ye think of a better way to create havoc and general chaos than to put an inexperienced person in charge of things?”

So much for the slick explanation he offered in his letter to me. I bristled at the word
inexperienced
but decided to overlook that slur in an attempt to get one last point cleared before he left. “Why are you using the game to settle what’s at heart a personal issue between you and Corbin?”

“Ye’re just chock full of questions, aren’t ye?” he chuckled, about to leave the room. “Ye remember me flag?”