Revenge of the Siren Song (Rogues of Sea and Sky Book 1) (5 page)

Chapter 9

Rescue

As Liam guided the
Black Dragon
alongside the
Ocean’s Whore
, he saw that utter chaos reigned aboard the smaller vessel. Although he had been signaled to approach, it looked as though the crew was expecting a fight. Mysteries continued to accrue when it wasn’t Captain Shireland, but Grace, who granted him permission to come aboard.

“What gives, Captain O’Malley? Have you captured Lizzie’s ship single handed?”

“Not hardly,” she growled her response. “Have your crew make ready for three guests and a hasty getaway.”

“What? Why?”

“No doubt the British Commodore’s flagship is right behind you. If they capture Lizzie, she’s done for.”

“Wasn’t that the plan, O’Malley?”

“Plans change,” was the extent of her terse retort.

At that moment Pippa joined them with baby Christopher in her arms. Somehow the wee lad was sleeping through the din on the deck. Liam opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, more sailors approached loaded down with all manner of baggage.

“Captain says these are to be put aboard the other ship. Is that right, sir?” a particularly swarthy sailor asked Captain O’Shea.

“How the blazes would I know? I just got here.”

“Yes, all of Captain Shireland’s effects are to be put aboard the Dragon. Haul away boys,” Grace directed them. “Better warn your crew, O’Shea.”

Liam turned from the madness to shout orders across to the other decks that cargo was coming aboard. He turned back again to find Lizzie grinning up at him.

“Fancy meeting you again under such circumstances, O’Shea,” she nearly giggled. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”

“Do I have any choice?”

“Not really.”

“I thought as much. Permission granted.”

Once Lizzie, Pippa, baby, and all the cargo were transferred, a cry came from the
Whore
’s crow’s nest.

“Ship ahoy! Looks to be a ship of the line!”

“Trouble has finally arrived,” Grace muttered. “Off you go,” she said as she began shoving Liam back toward his own ship.

“Wait one minute, Grace O’Malley. I came sailing like the blazes out of Port Royal to come after you. I’m not about to go anywhere without you.”

“Sorry to tell you this, but you most certainly are. That baby they took aboard the Dragon is Lizzie’s, and if the British get their hands on her, they’ll waste no time making an orphan of him. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to get the full story from Lizzie, but for now you need to get out of here before that ship of the line catches up to us.”

“Nothing in what you just said precludes you from coming with us.”

“I set this crew up, and now their captain is abandoning ship. Someone needs to take responsibility for those left aboard the
Whore
. And that’s going to be me. Now get to flying before it’s too late!” She practically threw him overboard and gave the order to release the ropes.

“Make it look good, O'Shea, or they might decide to come after you instead,” Grace shouted as the
Black Dragon
began to pull away.

Orders were given to open every yard of canvas the Dragon had, just as the Royal Navy ship,
Valiant
, began to loom large on the horizon.

“All right, lads, we have to make this look convincing. That Navy ship expected to catch the
Whore
in the act of attacking another ship. Roll out the guns and aim high boys! If you actually hit her, you hit your own captain.”

She ran down the deck to join the gunners, shouting orders to open up the canvas as if in pursuit of their prey. She saw that not only was the
Black Dragon
running at full sail, she had raised the British colors and a distress signal. Liam was playing the part of the victim very convincingly.

“Now, let's put that shot between us and the Dragon just off her starboard side,” she cooed in the gunner's ear.

She hated wasting perfectly good ammunition, but the shot needed to make the appropriate splash at the end of its flight. The gunner angled the cannon just a bit higher and lit the fuse. The powder roared with a deafening concussion as the ball tore through the air. Grace held her breath. The shot looked as though it might actually hit the Dragon, but at the last possible moment the shot dropped short of its apparent goal and crashed alongside the
Black Dragon
with a spray reaching the height of the mainmast. The Dragon responded by lurching to port and, hopefully, further out of range.

A thunderous plume of ocean spray followed by a low rumbling boom came just aft of the
Whore
. The
Valiant
had taken the bait, and the chase was on.

The chaotic din grew to deafening levels as every man took up his battle station. Block and tackle wailed as every bit of canvas was unfurled. The rest of the guns were rolled moaning to their places on deck. It was a deadly and dangerous game Grace played, but one she played very, very well. She raced back to take her place alongside the helmsman, and kept a careful eye on the
Valiant
. For a heavy British ship of the line, she was closing the gap quickly.

Another shot screamed overhead, flying high and long. It threw a mountainous wall of water over the port bow.

“Are we going to let them fire on us at will?” Grace shouted over the madness. “Let's show them how we answer such a greeting!”

The helmsman turned the rudder, giving the starboard guns a better shot at the
Valiant
. Two guns roared their reply. One shot splashed short, but the other opened a hole in the railing about the bow. Not a particularly damaging shot, but the first to actually shiver timber. Then it was the
Ocean’s Whore
that took a blow, as bar shot came ripping through the topmost sails. The
Whore
would not be able to run long if the
Valiant
managed to destroy the sheets.

Grace spotted the white caps of shoals in the distance. They could take advantage of the
Whore
's diminutive size and lose the
Valiant
in the treacherous shallows. She gave the order to the helmsman just as the
Valiant
’s guns erupted in another violent barrage. The smoke still billowed as another round of bar shot damaged the foremost mast. They were going to have to run as if from the devil himself to escape the
Valiant
.

Then a favorable breeze picked up to their advantage. The little ship skipped along the surface of the water, while the larger vessel could gain no perceptible speed. The sails strained against their riggings as the breeze pushed them faster and faster towards the shallow reef, a danger almost as deadly as the
Valiant
.

The master of the British ship must have sensed the possible loss of his quarry. All of the
Valiant
's firepower was unleashed on the little
Whore.
Two holes erupted from the main deck as the foremast toppled from cannon fire. Men were shouting all about her, but Grace could not hear a word over the thunderous explosions.

More and more of the crew began to disappear below decks to man the bilge pumps. The
Ocean’s Whore
could not sustain this much damage without taking on water. A sick tinge of fear rose in Grace's throat like unwelcome bile. She began to question if she had steered them all to certain doom on the reef.

The
Valiant
seemed satisfied with the likely outcome of the
Whore
's fate and backed off her pursuit. The gap between the ships widened as the
Ocean’s Whore
hurtled toward the shoals.

Then Grace spotted their salvation - a tell-tale break in the white caps. She directed the helmsman toward the gap in the reef. Even at their breakneck pace the man at the wheel threaded the tiny gap like a needle. Grace gave the order to haul up some of the sails and take the rest of the maze at a safer pace. A few tense minutes later the
Ocean’s Whore
had danced her way through to the other side of the reef and the safety of the open ocean. The
Valiant
, should they choose to give chase again, would have to sail leagues around the reef. Grace intended to be long gone by then.

A decision would have to be made very quickly. Although they had escaped the clutches of the Royal British Navy, they were far from undamaged. The first mate explained that the
Ocean’s Whore
had been leaky and in poor repair to begin with. With the loss of the foremast and the additional battle damage, she was in real peril of sinking if a safe berth were not found, and quickly. Grace knew the nearest safe place was the
Siren Song
's refuge. She saw no other choice but to bring yet another crew into her haven. She gave the helmsman his heading and locked herself in the captain's quarters. She needed rest, and time to grieve for what she had lost.

Chapter 10

Beyond the Horizon

“You did what!?” Liam roared so loudly that the glazing rattled in the window panes of his cabin aboard the
Black Dragon
.

Pippa watched wide-eyed as Lizzie and Liam raged together like a pair of hurricanes. The fight had begun as soon as they had drawn out of sight of the other ships. Lizzie derived a special pleasure from tormenting Liam, and twisted all of his questions, leaving him sputtering with rage. The last dam against his fury finally broke when he realized what she had told, or rather had not told, Grace.

“I might have let her come to her own conclusions as to Christopher's parentage,” Lizzie smiled triumphantly.

“You let her think your bastard child was mine! Why would you need to do that, woman? She would have done the same for the baby's sake, without a care about his father!”

“I wasn't about to take any chances, Liam. My neck is on the line.”

“So help me, I don't have Grace O'Malley's heart. I'd like to hang you from that treacherous neck myself. I most certainly will not suffer you aboard my ship a moment longer than absolutely necessary.” He stormed out of his own cabin without giving her the chance for another word.

Lizzie smiled at Pippa as if she had just won something.

Pippa held baby Christopher a little closer and wondered what kind of trouble she had borrowed for herself.

The crew of the
Black Dragon
watched from a cautious distance as their captain paced the decks of the ship. They had heard the bellowing fight and weren't about to approach him until he regained his senses. Within a few minutes of stalking back and forth, he blew out a frustrated sigh and seemed to calm, but the helmsman still cringed as Captain O'Shea approached.

“Adjust our heading; make for Nassau. I will not carry this cargo any further than necessary,” Liam growled and continued walking.

The passage to the Bahamas was tense for all aboard. Lizzie was intent on lighting Liam's short fuse at every opportunity. The crew did their level best to stay out of the line of fire, while Pippa sought out the relative safety of the galley. There wasn't a soul aboard who didn't pray for strong winds all the way to their destination.

They were very near New Providence when Captain O'Shea made an unexpected visit to the galley.

“Good evening, Hans,” he greeted the cook. “Is Pippa about?”

“Aye, sir, she and the wee babe are sitting near the stove.”

Liam grabbed a stool and sat down next to the lass.

“Quite an adventure you've had yourself,” he began.

“This is certainly not the end I had imagined when I started out, sir.”

“Life rarely works out quite as we'd imagined it, but we still keep dreaming.”

“True enough, sir,” she answered, unsure of where he was taking the conversation.

“Lass, how do you feel now about avenging the loss of your Thomas?”

“To be honest, sir, I think that fate will hand a deserving justice to that woman. She will bring on herself a far worse punishment than I ever could.”

“I will not disagree with you there. But what course will you steer for yourself? You are still welcome aboard the
Black Dragon
.”

“Aye, sir, I know. But, for Thomas' sake I need to see her come to that fitting end. And I feel an obligation to this wee fellow,” she added nodding to Christopher sleeping in her arms. “Thomas helped me when I could not really help myself. How much more does this little innocent one need someone to care for him? I think I honor the memory of Thomas and my Mum by making sure he is not left alone and helpless. So, if you don't mind, I think I will go ashore at Nassau.”

“You’re free to do as you please,” he said, and he got up and walked away.

The next morning at first light, Lizzie, her baby, her baggage, and her unlikely nanny were all put ashore. The
Black Dragon
then put back out to sea before any of the harbor officials had a chance to approach. They were Lizzie’s problem now.

Liam raced as fast as the winds would allow, making the Dragon fly back to the shelter of the
Siren Song
’s secret cove. Pippa had mentioned how wet and leaky it had been aboard the
Ocean’s Whore
. There was no doubt in Liam’s mind that Grace would have no choice but to take the wounded
Whore
home and deal with the consequences. He prayed every hour, like the pious, that he would find Grace O’Malley before his consuming desire for her burned up the last of his sanity.

By the rays of the first morning light four days out of Nassau, the man on watch spotted the tiny rock they sought. Liam willed the wind to his favor. When the cove came into view, though, Liam’s heart sank like an anchor to the bottom of the sea. There was only one small ship at anchor, and it was not the
Siren Song
. There was very little chance at all that Captain Grace O’Malley would send her ship off while she stayed behind, and an even smaller chance that the
Siren Song
would be back again anytime soon. Liam’s only hope remained in whatever information he could gain by dropping anchor and talking to the crew of the
Ocean’s Whore
.

Once ashore, Captain O’Shea found that Cutlass Lizzie’s miscreant crew had made free with the base’s plentiful food and copious rum. Apparently to the last man, they were all passed out and sleeping all over the village around the cove. His anger flared fiercely when Liam thought of how Grace had risked her life for this sorry lot of drunks.

He kicked the nearest sailor until the man finally came groaning back to wakefulness.

“Wake up you filthy dog! Where is Captain O’Malley? Where is the
Siren Song
?”

“Song, sir? I don’t know any songs, sir,” the poor fool answered.

“I’m not asking you to sing, you lout. I want to know what happened to Captain O’Malley and her crew. Where is Captain O’Malley’s ship?” Liam was yelling loud enough to be heard on the other side of the island.

The one man from the
Whore
’s crew who had the good sense to be sober came running toward them in response to the shouting.

“Who goes there?”

“The captain of the
Black Dragon
, that’s who. She’s been anchored in the cove all afternoon. Where have you been?”

“Hunting, sir, there’s some excellent game up in the bush,” the man answered as he straightened to attention in the presence of an authority figure.

“At least there is someone around here who not derelict in his duty. What do you know about Captain O’Malley and her crew?”

“Captain O’Malley ordered her ship resupplied as soon as we arrived here, sir. It looked to me as though they were planning a long voyage.”

“When did they leave?”

“Not more than two days ago, sir. You said captain of the
Black Dragon
? Would you be Captain O’Shea, then?”

“Aye, that’s correct.”

“I have a letter for you, then, sir. That should explain things well enough.”

The man trotted off to a nearby hut and returned quickly with a long handwritten letter for Liam. The contents drowned the last of Liam’s hope. Grace was gone and had no intention of returning.

* * *

First Mate Hawkins launched the longboat as soon as they heard the signal gun from the little ship beyond the reef. He had no doubt that Captain O’Malley was aboard. It was her signal that was fired, but he was not certain if she was in control or being held under duress. He and the crewmen with him were armed in case of the latter circumstance.

To his relief, Captain O’Malley was aboard the
Ocean’s Whore
and absolutely in charge. Lizzie’s rag-tag crew operated with an efficiency they had never before thought possible. Under her command, the
Ocean’s Whore
slipped through the eye of the needle that protected the cove from intruders. As soon as Hawkins was aboard, command was given over to him, and Grace was ferried back to the beach aboard the longboat.

Bartolo had been waiting anxiously for his captain’s return. His heart broke to see how weary and forlorn she looked. He offered her a steadying hand as she disembarked from the boat, but she refused without a word. He had no choice but to follow silently behind her as she made her way to her private cottage.

“Draw the curtains and leave me be for a while,” she addressed him as soon as they were inside. “I am bone tired.”

Bartolo dutifully did as he was bidden and left her to rest. He would have to get his information from among the crew of the
Ocean’s Whore
. Various members of the crew gave him piecemeal details about Captain O’Malley’s kidnapping and the skirmish with the Navy, but none of it added up to an explanation of the melancholy that gripped his captain. As certain as the tides rise and fall, his captain’s heart had been broken.

The next morning, Bartolo could hold his tongue no longer.

“If I may speak freely, Captain,” he began as he set out a simple breakfast, “there is an old proverb my sainted grandmother often quoted that I would like to share with you.”

“You may speak,” she answered, albeit half-heartedly.

“Las fortuna non sempre comportare danni…not all misfortune results in harm. My grandmother always liked to remind us that there are many things in life that we cannot control and do not like, but very little of it can truly break us. Most pain is temporary. I do not pretend to know what it is that has caused your heart so much pain, but it is not good to continue to wallow in it, my lady. The crew is beginning to talk about your ability to continue to lead.”

“And what, oh man of wisdom, do you propose?” she sniped sarcastically.

“Perhaps a change of scenery? We have all become too complacent in these easy waters.”

“I have no wish to go anywhere, Bartolo. Leave me be.”

“But mistress,” he began, but the object nearest her reach came hurtling at his head.

“I said leave me alone,” she bellowed.

Bartolo left her, knowing there was no reasoning with her until her fury had passed.

As soon as he left the cottage, Grace rolled herself in her blankets and sought to escape her pain in sleep.

She slept like the dead for days, losing all track of time. The brief waking moments were so steeped in heartbreak that she would immediately roll over and begin the descent back into nothingness. If it were not for an incessant tapping upon the glazing of her cottage window, she would not have had the will to rise from her bed at all.

“Go away,” she growled, but the random tap, tap, tap continued.

“Get away from my window,” she shouted from under the pile of covers.

Still the noise continued.

“I swear if I see the face of the fool at my window, I will blow it off his worthless head,” Grace threatened as she hauled herself out of her bed.

By the time she could take the couple of steps to the window, there was nothing or no one to be found.

“And stay away,” she yelled at the void.

She walked back to the bed and dropped into it like a sack of grain. She had barely gotten her feet back under the blankets when the tapping began again.

“If you don’t stay away from that window, I will not be kind enough to give you a quick end!” she called out as she once again made her way from the bed.

She was irritated enough to want to catch the fool this time, so she crept more stealthily to the sill. She caught sight of a large black crow just before it leapt into flight from the ledge outside her cottage window.

“Damn that bird to oblivion,” she muttered as she crossed the little room back to her bed.

As soon as Grace crossed back into the deeper shadows of the room, she heard the rustle of wings and the tapping began again. She realized she would have to figure out what the stupid crow was after before she would get it to go away. Wary of startling it again, Grace turned around slowly and spoke softly.

“What is it that you think you will gain by all this constant annoyance?” she asked the crow.

Instead of immediately flapping away, the crow paused in its tapping, cocked its head to one side, and seemed to look at her with its glossy black eye. So long as Grace remained motionless, the staring contest continued. When she took another step closer, the crow flew off.

“What in the world could that crow want so badly?” she wondered aloud as she approached the window.

For the first time since the return to the Song’s cove, she peered at the world outside. She noticed several crows roosting in the trees a few yards from her cottage, but did not take in the clear blue sky or the dance of the trees in the breeze. She refused to open herself to any more sensation than was absolutely necessary to get that crow to leave her window alone. She rummaged around the things sitting near the window, looking for something that might be shining in the sunlight and drawing the crow’s attention. When she was satisfied that she’d cleared the clutter, Grace padded back to the bed.