The Ransom (25 page)

“There are ten guards above deck,” Larkin said. “All armed.”

Alex nodded as he checked the pistols stuffed in his baldric.

“But we don’t know how many is below,” Riggs added.

Thunder growled in the distance. “There will be more,” Alex said. Nichols would probably stuff the hold with Royal marines. “You all know what to do.”

“Aye, Cap’ns” whispered through the midnight fog.

Riggs, knapsack over his shoulder and lit cigar betwixt his lips, hobbled down the long wharf, effecting a drunken stumble that would fool the most hardened souse. Keeping to the shadows, Alex and his men followed at a distance. A half-moon cast a milky glow over whiffs of fog icing the bay as a gust of chilled wind loosened hair from Alex’s queue. He only hoped his father’s tale of how his men had rescued him on the way to Execution Dock had been true. If not, the smoke grenades would possibly cost Alex and his crew their lives.

He knelt behind a stack of crates at the edge of the dock and gestured for his men to do the same. Silent as the grave, they waited, gripping swords and pistols, anticipation strung tight in the air between them. Lightning wove a silver thread across the dark sky.

“You there,” a heavy voice shouted from down the wharf. “Aye, you. You aren’t allowed on this dock. Begone with you, man!”

Riggs’s slurred reply came fast, “What d’ye say thar, my friend?”

“I ain’t your friend. I said begone with you, you drunken swine! Or I’ll put a hole in your arse.”

Laughter rang from the ship.

Riggs let out a loud belch. “Apologies, sir. I was lookin’ fer me cat. Have ye seen me lost kitty, Puffins?”

A chorus of chuckles followed—along with the cock of pistols as the men pointed their weapons at Riggs. “Go on now. Yer cat ain’t here.”

Riggs waved a hand in their direction. “Very well, gents. Stay yer tempers, now. I’m leavin’. Can’t a man look fer his cat wit’out bein’ threatened fer life and limb?” He stumbled, tripped over his own feet, and plopped to the wharf with a thud, causing more laughter to fill the air.

Alex tensed. He glanced at his crew, their breaths heavy in the misty air. His best fighters, courageous all. He only wished Jonas were by his side. Though the man abhorred violence, for a sail-maker-turned-doctor-turned pirate, he possessed more skill with a sword than Alex had ever seen.

Muttering, Riggs twisted away from the ship in a feigned attempt to rise, reached into his knapsack, lit a grenade with his cigar and tossed it toward the
Midnight Fortune
. A good ten yards. But he made it. The hollowed-out two-pounder landed with a
thunk
on the wooden planks, sizzling like pig fat on a griddle. The stunned guards merely stared at it as the wick burned down, giving Riggs the chance to light and toss another one.

Alex gave the signal. He and his crew burst from behind the crates, carrying the plank between them as the first grenade exploded. Thick smoke enshrouded the guards. Yellow flashes peppered the air as shots cracked the night sky, directed toward Riggs. But he was no longer there.

Alex and his men slammed down the plank between the dock and bulwarks, then ducked as the second grenade exploded.
Boom
!

Curses and shouts shot from the gray cloud. Drawing his cutlass, Alex led his men over the plank into the waist of the brig. Riggs followed, lighting another grenade as he went. Smoke stung Alex’s eyes. He blinked and coughed as his men let out a war cry that would frighten the bravest soldier. Riggs dropped the grenade down a hatch, then started to light another.

The disoriented guards were easy to find bumbling about the deck, rubbing their eyes and spewing curse after curse. Easy to find and easy to strike unconscious with the hilt of Alex’s sword. Two more explosions rocked the brig. Smoke billowed from the hatches. A flurry of red coats buzzed on deck like angry bees from a hive. At least fifteen well-armed and well-trained Royal marines. Raising his blade, Alex took on the first man.

During the next few minutes,
clinks
and
clanks
rang through the darkness, joining grunts and screams and the occasional crack of a pistol. Sweat streamed down Alex’s neck, dampening his shirt. He’d already taken care of three marines. A quick glance across the deck showed Spittal in a fierce battle with two men. Alex headed that way, when a tall major came at him, blade raised. Alex swung low at his opponent, who, though young, wielded his sword with a fair amount of skill. The boy blocked the strike and shoved Alex back. Their hilts locked in battle. Both grunted. Alex twisted his cutlass and drove the man to the side.

Swooping in from the left, the major intended to catch Alex off guard with his speed, but Alex leapt out of the way, swung about, and spanked the lad on the rump with the flat edge of his sword. His chuckle seemed to infuriate the boy further. He charged Alex like a bull, nostrils flaring. Alex met his parry with full force. The
chink
of their blades chimed into the night.

Sweat stung his eyes. Thunder bellowed in the distance. Alex shifted to the right and dipped his blade low. The major shrieked as a line of red appeared on his white breeches. He backed away, eyes seething. A breeze tossed the lapels of his red coat.

All around Alex, his men battled with swords and knives and some with fists. Grunts and groans bounced over the deck as their enemies dropped unconscious to the wooden planks. He’d instructed his men not to kill unless necessary. And he could see they were obeying. All but Larkin, who had declared that he “saw no need in saving men whom they may have to fight in the future.”

A flash of light brought Alex’s focus back to the fight at hand. He met the lad’s slash and shoved aside his blade. Then, having his fill of this tomfoolery, Alex grabbed the backstay, swung onto the bulwarks, and leveled the tip of his cutlass at the boy’s back. The young major dropped his sword and raised his hands as a barely noticeable tremble shimmied down his body. Leaping to the deck, Alex circled the man, pressed the tip of his sword to his chest, and pushed him toward the railing. “How about a little swim, Major?”

The man stared at him as if he were joking, but then quickly scrambled over the railing and dove into the bay.

Pain seared Alex’s left arm. He swung about and met the point of a blade hovering over his heart.

“So this is the great Pirate Earl,” the marine said between heaving breaths. Lightning flashed over his sweaty face. “Not so hard to catch, after all.”

“At your service.” Alex dipped his head even as he wondered whether the man realized his men were all but defeated and he was surrounded by pirates.

The marine ran a sleeve over his forehead. “I should run you through right here, but I’m under command to bring you in.”

“I find your exemplary obedience to my liking, Lieutenant.” Alex smiled.

Over the man’s shoulder, he saw Bait creeping toward him.

A scream and a splash sounded as yet another man was tossed overboard.

Alex held out his hands. “I insist you clap me in irons at once.”

The man’s brow wrinkled. He pressed his sword deeper on Alex’s chest. It pierced his leather jerkin, causing a prick of pain. “You are either a madman or a fool.” The lieutenant snorted.

Alex cocked a brow. “Mayhap both.”

Bait slammed the handle of his pistol on the man’s head. With eyes rolling backward, the lieutenant crashed to the deck.

Thanking his friend with a slap on the back, Alex assisted his crew with the rest of the marines, and soon they had the men who were still conscious bound, gagged, and lined up against the bulwarks like a firing squad.

Ignoring the looks of hatred flung his way, Alex leapt down the companionway, which was still hazy with smoke, and made his way to the captain’s quarters. Riggs and Larkin followed. There, they met one lone marine guarding the door, but at the sight of three armed pirates, he quickly surrendered and was escorted above.

“Yer wounded, Cap’n,” Riggs said after he groped through the darkness, struck flint to steel, and lit a candle on the captain’s desk. He held the light up to the bloody sleeve on Alex’s arm. Caught up in the excitement, Alex had all but forgotten it, though now the pain begged his attention. “’Tis nothing.” He tugged the cravat from his neck and tied it around the wound. Not deep, but he’d have Whipple dress it later. “Now let’s find this treasure, shall we?”

He didn’t have to issue the command twice before Riggs and Larkin began tearing the cabin apart from the deckhead above to the deck beneath their feet and everything in between. Once they found the pearls, Alex would let the rest of his crew loose in the hold to gather whatever else of value they could find. Either way, they would have to act fast before Nichols discovered his plan had been foiled.

A few minutes later, their search revealed the object of their quest—a lockbox stuffed behind a bottle of port in a drawer of the captain’s oak desk. Plucking Riggs’s boarding hatchet from his belt, Alex struck the lock and opened the box. Dozens of lustrous pearls stared up at them.

“You would think they’d have kept such a grand treasure better protected,” Larkin said, rubbing his hands together. “Especially if they knew we were coming.”

“’Tis precisely
because
Nichols knew we were coming that he believed the pearls secure.” Alex picked up one of the gems. “The poor man has so little respect for pirates.” He chuckled as he held a pearl to the light and saw his image reflected back at him from a creamy smooth surface that was perfectly round. Good quality.

“What would ye say they’s worth, Cap’n?” Riggs was nearly salivating.

“A fortune, my good man,” Larkin replied with a twinkle in his eyes. “A fortune.” He reached to take the pearl from Alex, but it slipped from his fingers and fell onto the desk. When Alex went to retrieve it, two words shot like hell-fire at him from a piece of parchment. Two words that branded his mind like hot iron.

Dutton Shipping

He stared at the paper. There it was, plain as day: a writ of sale from Dutton Shipping. This was Juliana’s father’s brig! Of all the ships … Alex sank into a chair.

Larkin plucked the pearl from the desk and held it to the candle. “Aye, these will bring a pretty price, I’d say.”

Riggs’s gold tooth twinkled in the light. “How much wou’ ye say? Fer each of us?”

While Larkin guessed the pearls’ value and spouted off several numbers that caused Riggs to squeal with glee, dread crept over Alex. If there was a God, there was no further doubt that He enjoyed toying with Alex to satisfy some sadistic pleasure.

Larkin scooped a handful of pearls and shifted them between his palms. “I’ll wager these will bring some three hundred pounds, mayhap more.”

Alarm pricked Alex. Why had Juliana’s father allied himself with that braggart, Nichols? Why would he put such a fortune at risk? Especially when Juliana had just told Alex that Dutton Shipping was in trouble.

Riggs scratched his chin. “An’ ow much will that put in me hands? Thirty pounds, wou’ ye say?”

“Nay, you dull-witted fiend,” Larkin snorted. “Divided amongst twenty-five men, and with the captain taking two shares”—he paused, thinking—“that should come to around eleven pounds each.”

Alex couldn’t steal from Juliana’s family!
A loss like this could put them in the poor house. And if Juliana ever discovered the Pirate Earl was behind it, she’d never speak to him again.

Riggs fingered the pearls still in Larkin’s hand. “Eleven pounds. A fair wage fer a couple ’ours o’ work, says I.”

Alex ground his teeth together. ’Twas too late. If he denied the men their treasure, they’d mutiny and kill him—of that he had no doubt. However, he might be able to salvage the goods in the hold.

Nichols, the squirrely nodcock! This was all his fault!
Alex slammed his fist on the desk, drawing the curious gaze of his men. Ignoring them, he found a quill pen and ink and scribbled a note on a scrap of foolscap, then glanced at the table clock. 1:15.
Lud!
“Put them back, Larkin,” he ordered, slowly rising.

Larkin’s scowl turned playful. “Don’t trust me, Captain?”

Alex held up the open box. “I trust no one.”

His sailing master eyed him for a moment as if actually considering whether to obey. Then he tilted his hand and allowed the pearls to slide into the box.

“Get the men back to the ship. I’ll meet you there at first light.”

“But what about the rest of the goods below?” Larkin asked.

Alex closed the box, tucked it under his arm, and circled the desk. “There’s nothing else of value here.”

“How d’ye know, Cap’n?” Riggs brow wrinkled.

“Because I do. Besides, the pearls are more than enough for tonight.” He headed for the door.

“And yet, you seem to be running off with them.” Larkin’s boots thundered over the deck.

Alex spun on his heels and found the man standing behind him, fingering the hilt of his cutlass, a look of challenge on his face.

“What is this devilry?” Alex met his torrid gaze. “You will be paid your share, Larkin. As always.” He gestured toward the man’s blade. “If you intend to draw on me, you best do it now. Or back down before I teach you your place.”