Chapter One
A week later
Brody eyed the threatening sky as he tied off the last vine holding together his rough-crafted raft he’d made from saplings and driftwood that he’d found on the deserted island. Luckily, he’d had a dagger or he wouldn’t even be able to make this. He also had the goatskin filled with ale. Of course, the ale was long gone. He lost track of how many days he’d been on the island. One day melded into the next. With the fog they’d been having lately, sometimes he couldn’t even tell if it was night or day.
He thought for sure someone would have rescued him by now. By naught more than dumb luck, he’d managed to make it to the island after he’d jumped off the Sea Mirage. But it had been a long and strenuous swim. When he’d finally made it to shore, he’d lain on the beach feeling as if he would die. It had rained the first few days and he’d managed to collect rain water to drink, or he would have died of thirst.
He’d also found roots, berries, and herbs to eat, but it wasn’t enough to survive. If he didn’t get help soon, he might as well dig his own grave next.
Thunder rumbled overhead, but he didn’t care. Nothing seemed to bother him anymore. The driving force that kept him alive was the fact he wanted to live so that he could kill Muck. Now he understood Rowen’s vengeance for the king all these years. Vengeance was a powerful motivator and gave men the will to survive just to see justice done.
He spied motion on the water and his head snapped upward. Straining his eyes, he was sure he saw a ship at sea. Could he use his raft to make it to the ship before it disappeared? Thunder rumbled again. He threw caution to the wind. He hadn’t seen a passing ship the entire time he’d been here. This island wasn’t on the main trade route, so this ship might be his only chance.
He stood and ran to the shore, pulling his wooden raft behind him. Placing it in the water, he breathed a sigh of relief as he realized it floated. He grabbed the homemade oars that were nothing more than branches with woven fronds on the ends. He placed the oars on the raft and waded out into deeper water, gently kneeling atop the raft, heading out to sea.
The winds picked up. Before he knew it, it started to rain. The ship he’d seen was getting further away. He just couldn’t catch it. He was naught but a speck on the vast ocean and was sure no one even saw him there. At this rate, he’d never make it to the ship before it disappeared. Thinking of how he could move faster, he realized he had to use the wind to his advantage.
Using his oars, he tied them together with more spare vines. He then removed his white shirt and made a sail. Jamming the pole in between a few of the branches of the raft, he’d managed to erect a mast. Since he was experienced at sailing, he used his skills to make the wind work for him instead of against him. Before long, the ship was not only back in sight, but he was gaining speed. The wind whipped against his skin, mixed with rain that bit into his flesh. He held no pride of being the captain of an escape raft. Longing filled his soul to be back on his ship as captain of the Sea Mirage again.
Would Rowen ever find out what his old crew did? Brody would be sure to tell him if he ever made it back to the mainland alive.
The ship came into view, but fog was settling over the water. Still, he could tell it wasn’t a very large ship. It didn’t look to be a cargo ship but rather a vessel used for fishing. It didn’t matter. They could take him back to the mainland. Then he’d be able to hunt down and kill Muck.
The rain pelted down and a cold shiver ran up his spine.
The wind felt relentless against his body. He tried to tuck strands of hair back under his headscarf so he could keep a close eye on his target. He did all he could to hold on to the raft and sail it directly over to the fishing ship. But with the fog rising from the water even thicker than before, it made it hard to see. He had to catch the ship or he was naught more than shark bait. This was his only chance to survive.
Gwendolen Fishman reeled in the fishing lines, trying to help secure her father’s boat before the storm hit. Dressed in breeches and boots instead of a gown, and with her hair covered with a head cloth and hat, she fit right in with the rest of her father’s crew. Ever since the death of her mother, Gwen had wanted to stay as close to her father as possible. She was the only daughter. Her three older brothers, Aaron, Tristan, and Mardon, had helped her father fish at one time and, together, they’d sold their catches to townsfolk, merchants and even nobles. But her brothers had their minds set on so much more than just a handful of coins a week and a boatload of smelly fish. They’d gone their own way looking for more in life than her father could ever give them. They wanted gold and treasure. Gwen had been very young when they’d argued with her father and left for good. Now, she was all her father had left in life. That is, besides his boat and the small crew of three older men.
“Gwen, get inside the cabin,” called out her father, lifting a bottle of whisky to his lips. He took to the drink right after her mother died. He was hardly ever sober anymore since he drank to ease the pain of losing three able-bodied sons.
The winds picked up and rain started to fall from the sky. The swells of the waves were getting higher.
“I’m all right, Papa,” she yelled into the wind. “I’m just as capable as the rest of your crew.”
“Gwen, listen to your father,” shouted Leo, the eldest of the crew. He was her father’s age and also his best friend.
“Get off the deck before you’re blown overboard,” called out Flann, always being so bossy. Flann never liked the fact her father had brought her along on the fishing trips. The other two men tolerated Gwen and, at times, even treated her as if she were their daughter.
“I’m going to help, so we don’t lose our catch.” She yanked at one side of the net filled with fish, while the quietest of the crew, Gilroy, helped her to bring it aboard. Gwen was a small girl and hadn’t the strength at seven and ten years of age to do the work of a man.
Her fingers slipped. The ropes cut into her hands making her cry out and the net fell back into the water, letting loose of their entire catch of fish.
“Dammit, Gwen, let the men do that.” Her father tied up the wheel and made his way across the wet deck toward her. His step wavered more from the drink than from the rocking of the ship. He clutched the bottle of whisky in his hand. “Get below deck before I have to tie you to a mast.”
“Nothing can stop me from helping and you know it.” She turned her head to see the hoard of fish they’d caught swimming back out to sea. It was an unfortunate accident that would cost them dearly. Then, through the fog, she saw something odd floating toward the ship. It was dark and mysterious. It almost looked like a man aboard a raft. “Look, Papa. I think it’s a man.” She pointed to the object. Her father didn’t look at first. Instead, he pulled her away from the side of the ship.
“If you don’t start listening to me, I’m going to leave you ashore next time.” He pulled her toward the hatch that led to the belly of the ship.
“Nay, look!” she said again. This time, a voice was heard from over the side of the ship.
“Ahoy! Ahoy, Matey, can you hear me?”
“What was that?” asked Flann, looking up from his work.
“It sounded like a voice,” surmised Gilroy.
“It’s a man. Look! I told you so.” Gwen broke free of her father’s hold and ran across the deck. She slipped and almost ended up falling over the edge. After making it to the rail, she held on tightly and called back to the man in the fog.
“We hear you. Do you need help?” She waved one arm over her head.
“Of course, he needs help,” spat Flann, pushing her aside. “Leo, give me a hand pulling him aboard.”
Gwen shivered in her wet clothes as she watched the men pull the drifter aboard. From the foggy mist emerged a bare-chested god of the sea, wearing a red headscarf over what looked to be dark hair. A dark, short beard and mustache outlined his pear-shaped face. His body was wet. His chest looked hard, and so were his nipples. She figured he had to be freezing in the cold weather, especially since he was soaked from the rain. How had he come to be out on the sea all alone?
The crew reached down to help him. The mysterious man took a white tunic off a tall pole on the raft and extended his free hand to Leo. When his feet hit the deck of the ship, she could tell he wasn’t as tall as her father’s crew. Still, he held an air of confidence about him. Dark brown eyes squinted from under thick, craggy brows. He looked to be in his early twenties.
“What happened to you?” asked her father, rushing over to join them.
“Thank you for helping me,” said the man softly. His skin looked pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. His thin lips looked dry and cracked from the elements. His body shook slightly.
“You’re shivering,” she said, causing the man to look right at her. She could see a sadness in his eyes as he perused her. This man had been through something horrible, she was sure of it. She had to find out more.
“You’re a girl,” he said in astonishment. He steadied himself and donned the white tunic over his head to block her glorious view of his naked body.
“She’s my daughter, Gwendolen,” said her father. “I’m Cato Fishman. This is my crew, Leo, Gilroy, and Flann.”
“Thank you, once again,” said the man, being ever so polite. “My name is Brody.”
“Where’s your ship?” asked Flann.
“Did you have an accident at sea?” asked Leo.
“You could say that,” he answered. “I’m afraid I’m now a captain without a ship. I hope to recover the Sea Mirage again someday soon.”
“Sea Mirage?” Gwen’s father’s spine stiffened and so did his fist on the bottle. “I’ve heard of that ship. It’s said to be the fastest ship on the sea.”
“Aye. That would be the one.” Brody smiled slightly, nodding his head proudly.
“It’s also said to be a pirate ship,” growled her father. He turned his head and spat on the deck.
Gwen gasped. Was this man a pirate? Pirates upset her father. So much so, that she knew this man’s presence here was going to end up being a bad situation. Brody’s dark gaze skimmed over her before returning to her father.
“I’m trying to get to Whitehaven,” he said. “Can you help me?”
“Whitehaven?” asked Flann. “We’re going to Cornwall.”
“Then I’m thankful for anywhere you can take me that is dry land. On the mainland,” he added as an afterthought, making Gwen wonder if he’d been on an island recently.
“No time for talk,” said her father. His eyes bore into Brody. Disgust and anger washed over his face. “This storm doesn’t look to be letting up and we need all the help we can get. Are you in any condition to work? We need to secure our ship.”
“Aye, Matey,” Brody said with a nod of his head. “I’ll get right on it.” He headed to the other side of the ship to grab a loose line flapping in the breeze.
“Gwen. Men,” her father said under his breath, his eyes never leaving Brody. “Be careful. He’s a bloody pirate and can’t be trusted.”
“A pirate?” Gwen asked, speaking a bit too loud. The man named Brody lifted his face as he worked, watching from the sides of his eyes.
“Shall we get rid of him?” mumbled Flann. His hands balled into fists. Flann couldn’t be trusted either. Gwen had no doubt in her mind if her father wanted Brody gone, Flann would strangle him with his bare hands if need be.
“He’ll never know what hit him.” Leo’s hand covered the hilt of his long fishing knife he wore at his waist.
“Nay. Not yet,” said her father, eyeing up the man and then the sky. “We’ll let him help us get through this storm first. Then we’ll dump him back into the sea where cutthroats like him belong. I’m sure there was a damned good reason why he was out there in the first place. Just watch your backs. All of you. I don’t like him being aboard at all.”
“How can you talk about him like that when you don’t even know him?” asked Gwen.
“You stay away from the pirate,” her father warned her, his teeth gritting as he spoke. “Do you hear me, Daughter? All men like him want – is one thing.”
“To rob us?” she asked with a cocky smile, knowing what he meant, but ignoring her father’s warning.
“To rob young girls like you of something you will never be able to regain.” Cato lifted the bottle to his lips and took a long draw.
The boat relentlessly rocked back and forth in the wind. Even with the amount of alcohol in him, her father managed to maintain his sea legs about him. Gwen held on for dear life. Storms frightened her. Even more than pirates.
“You need to shorten the sail,” the pirate called out from the opposite side of the deck. His face turned upward, and he surveyed the large square sail filled with air. In the strong wind, it was ready to burst.
“It’s too dangerous at this point,” said Cato. “The lines are tangled up near the top. I’m not going to risk the lives of my men asking them to climb the rigging in the storm to fix it.”
“I’ll do it,” offered the man named Brody. Before Gwen knew what was happening, the pirate was climbing the rigging like a monkey with his dagger clenched between his teeth.
The ship tossed back and forth in the high waves, taking massive amounts of water on deck. The full sail billowed out, taking the boat across the turbulent waters much too quickly.
“We’re going to capsize,” Gilroy shouted into the wind. Gwen could feel his fear. The ship had never leaned so far to the side. She thought they would capsize as well. She wished they were all safely back on land.
“Man your stations. Now!” called out their father.
“Gwen, get below deck!” scolded Leo as he hurried past her, trying to make his way to the bow.
“I’m going,” she said, feeling sick to her stomach. Lightning slashed through the darkened sky and thunder reverberated in her chest. This was the worst storm she’d ever been in and it frightened her worse than any of her nightmares. It was a night just like this when her mother passed away. Storms had frightened her ever since. Her father knew it and had tried to keep her close. That’s why he’d been so protective of her through the years. Her brothers had watched over her as well, being quite a few years older than Gwen. She missed them and never understood why her father had never gone after them and brought them home. They’d left in a storm as well. Aye, she hated storms in more ways than one.
She looked up to see Brody above them, shortening the sail which miraculously managed to slow down the ship. If it weren’t for him, their boat would have broken apart in the storm. He was on his way back down to the deck when a huge swell hit the side of the boat. She held her breath as water sloshed over the sidewall and covered her head. The wave crashed upward into the rigging hitting Brody full force.
“Nay!” she cried out as she saw him lose his footing, only holding on by one hand from a loose line. “He’s going to fall into the ocean,” she called out to the others. “Someone, save him.”
“We can’t,” answered Leo, trying to secure the rest of the lines and fishing equipment before it was washed overboard, too. “We’ve got all we can do to save the ship. Now get to safety, Gwen. Hurry.”
“Papa, help him,” she called to her father, holding on to things to try to make her way to the man without falling. Her father was having a hard time steering the ship and just shook his head.
“He’s a pirate, Gwen. Just let him go.”
“Nay! How can you say that? He just risked his life to help us.” Without another word, she turned and ran to the rigging, holding tightly to the lines as she started to climb to the top to help him. If no one else cared about the man’s life – she did. No matter if he was a pirate or a king, he deserved to be helped since he’d risked his life to save them.
“Go down, sweetheart,” she heard Brody call out to her. “This is no place for a lady.”
“I’m going to help you.” She liked the fact he’d called her a lady, not to mention sweetheart. No one had ever done that before. She was naught but the daughter of a poor fisherman, dressed and acting like a boy. Sometimes, she thought even her father considered her a boy. Or perhaps he only wished she was one of the sons he’d lost. But she could never replace her brothers, even as hard as she tried to fill that void. She’d always wanted to ease her father’s pain and make him happy again like he used to be so many years ago. If only she’d been born a boy, perhaps her father wouldn’t have taken to the bottle so hard.
She neared Brody, but by the time she did, he’d managed to secure himself in the rigging. The cold wind blew against her wet clothes and she shook like a leaf on a tree. She saw that the man’s tunic was torn open in the front, flapping around him. She couldn’t even imagine how cold he felt. Then a flash of lightning split the sky. She heard a deafening noise. The hair on her arms stood on end, making her feel numb. Lightning had just struck the main mast!
“Gwen!” cried out one of the crew, but she could barely hear him since there was such a loud pounding in her ears. Was it the sound of her heartbeat and the blood rushing through her body? Was she going to die? Her head dizzied and her grip loosened on the lines. Then the ship listed hard. She heard the sound of splintering wood above her. To her horror, the main mast was falling – with her on it.
“Help!” she cried out, tumbling toward the water. It was almost as if it happened in slow motion as her body fell along with the broken mast toward the angry sea. Her life flashed before her eyes. Brody had managed to drop to safety and was standing atop the sidewall. Her gaze met his when she fell past him, silently begging for his help, but no longer able to speak. The last thing she remembered before being covered by the turbulent black waters was Brody diving into the sea after her.