Cutlass (36 page)

“Take these!” he said, handing the powder flasks to Devon and Em. Barren then turned to Leaf. “Your bow,” he said and began to tear pieces of his shirt. He took Leaf’s quiver of arrows and wrapped each with a piece of cloth while the Elf dipped them in a bowl of oil he’d poured. Hollow produced a piece of flint and a thick piece of steel. Striking them together, sparks fell on the rags and in seconds they were aflame. The Elf aimed the arrow at the sails of the warship—it was only a few feet from them now, lining up nicely with theirs. They watched as the arrow cut the air in an almost unnatural manner, only to pierce the enemy’s white sails and set them ablaze.

In retaliation, the ship began to light cannons. The
Vasa
rocked upon the water with every blow, sending debris flying. A second round of firing sounded, and lead pelted the ship like rain—they had to be using grapeshots. The pirates took cover as best they could on the open deck, sheltering their heads with their hands. Barren rushed to the hatch and cried below. “Fire! Fire!”

The
Vasa
groaned as its cannons burst forth from the gundeck. Turning, he faced Leaf as he rose from the deck, and Cove, too. The Ambassador held his arm against him as blood spilled between his fingers—he’d been hit. “Bandage it quickly, Leaf. Stop the bleeding.”

Barren turned, watching the enemy ship as his cannons did minimal damage. His heart sank. Then his eyes caught the image of his brother, and standing close, Christopher Lee. Rage consumed him and he bent over the rail, crying out at the men below deck. “Fire you fools! Fire! Devon, Em!” he called as he took one of the powder flasks from them and threw it toward the ship. They exploded in a fierce burst of orange, and men on deck cried out as they fell. It was a small victory for Barren.

As Devon and Em continued to throw what was left of the powder flasks, Barren hurried to Leaf and Cove.

“What’s the damage?”

“Nothing that can’t be healed,” Leaf replied.

“Good.”

Cannons rocked their ship again, and the pirates tumbled to the floor. Barren rose with a ringing in his ears. The severe look on Leaf’s face caused Barren to follow his gaze. Then he saw them—the men poised on the masts, ready to make their advance on the ship. Just as he saw them, several crunching sounds caught his attention—grappling hooks were now embedded in the rail of the
Vasa
.

“Cut the ropes!” he cried. Drawing his sword, he ran for the ropes. Devon and Em were already there. Some men fell in mid-swing, while others made it to the deck and battle ensued.

“Barren, they have Larkin,” Leaf warned.

Alarm rang through him. Instinctively, he found her amid the sailors rushing about the deck of the attacking ship, held tightly by two guards, her mouth gagged. He could think of only one reason they would have her watch this—so that she could see him defeated. Anger made him tighten his grip on his blade, and he cut down his attackers with ferocity. He had one destination—the foremast. It was the only one left standing, and from it, he could board the enemy ship.

“Barren, where are you going?” he heard Leaf call.

 “Just make sure you cover me!” the pirate called back.

Barren climbed the mast with some effort—his joints still stiff from his injuries. As he was about to pull himself onto the platform of the mast, an arrow grazed his hand. He faltered, but before he could fall, he reached for one of the ropes holding the sail in place. He turned in time to see the man who had taken a shot at him go down, one of Leaf’s arrows in his chest. Barren managed to make it to the platform. He nodded to Leaf. The Elf hurried after him, climbing the foremast with ease—he would follow behind him. It would be easier for the others to board if Leaf could get the ropes secured.

Barren grasped one of the ropes, and ran off the edge of the platform. The wind resisted him as he managed to pull his bodyweight forward and land on the deck, collapsing to his knees. As soon as he landed, he turned, blocking a blow to his head. Leaf landed shortly behind him, quickly stringing an arrow to take down another attacker. The Elf hurried off, set on bringing the battle to their enemies.

While Barren fought, he set his sights on Larkin. The men who held her were dragging her away, and she fought, twisting and jerking within their grasps. Barren withdrew another blade and charged toward her, taking down any who stepped up to fight him. It wasn’t until he came face-to-face with Christopher Lee that he stopped. The lord looked so pristine—his coat buttoned and clean. His black cane gleamed in his hand. He was yet unscathed—and Barren raised his bloody weapon.

 “Barren,” he said, taking his cane in both hands, he pulled it apart to reveal a thin sword. “So good of you to join us.”

“It would not pain me to take your life,” Barren said through his teeth.

 “Think carefully on that, pirate. If you care for my daughter in any sense of the word, you will do well to keep me alive, but if you feel your affection waning, then by all means—hurt me.”

The old man opened his arms, waiting for Barren to strike, and then a nasty smirk accosted his lips. “What horrible circumstances I have been given—that my daughter would attract the attention of both of Jess Reed’s bastard children.”

Barren’s eyes blazed, and he moved to strike the lord. Though Christopher Lee was old, he was no less agile. Barren used both of his blades to fight the old man, aiming to take him down quickly, but he couldn’t shake Lee’s words—if he did harm Christopher in anyway, Larkin would never forgive him. She worked tirelessly to please her father, and no matter the wrong he committed, she still loved him. She would never want to see him die, and surely if he met his death at the end of Barren’s sword, she would be his enemy forever.

This thought caused him to look for Larkin, but the two men had succeeded in getting her below deck. What did they think taking her below would accomplish?

The distraction cost him one of his blades as it went flying from his hand. He gripped his sword with both hands and moved toward Christopher Lee with speed, going for his shoulder. The old man countered the attack, but their swords locked at the hilt.

“I know why you’re doing this,” Barren gritted out. “You want revenge.”

Lee smiled, though he was out of breath. “Then it seems we are not so different from one another.”

Lee pushed Barren back and charged at him again. Their blades crashed, and Barren fought harder, ensuring that each strike left both his and Christopher’s arms ringing. When he disarmed the old lord and held his blade to the man’s throat, Christopher lifted his head, stretching the skin tight for Barren to cut, daring him to kill him.

“On your knees,” Barren ordered.

Christopher gritted his teeth, but did as the pirate ordered. Barren took out the rope from his pocket. “Hands on your head.” Lee was slow to obey, but did as Barren said. After he was finished tying the old man’s wrists, he leaned down.

“Tell me what you did with the men who chose to return to Maris rather than fight me.”

Lee raised his brows, and chuckled a little. “Orders are orders, Barren Reed. Those men were to fight you, not come running back to Maris with their tails between their legs. They met the end they thought they would escape.”

Barren struck the lord on the head with the hilt of his sword and left him where he lay.

By now, Leaf had succeeded in connecting the ships, and more and more of Barren’s crew were making their way to the massive ship, fighting with their attackers. Barren hurried to the hatch where they’d taken Larkin. If luck held with him, they would be able to commandeer this ship—it was now their only hope for getting to the bloodstone.

The hatch door was open, and Barren climbed down, cautious as he descended the dark steps. In this atmosphere, he had only to rely on his hearing for movement, but that was hard considering the commotion on deck. The stairs ended, and he moved into the main hold. There were barrels and beams he managed to navigate around, trying not to make too much noise. He would call out to Larkin, but he knew the guards had gone down with her and hadn’t returned.

Then he heard it—a shuffle and the silver sound of a blade. He twisted and his sword clashed with another. He met the wide-eyed gaze of Larkin Lee.

“Barren,” she breathed, dropping her arms quickly. She wrapped them around his waist. For a moment, Barren stood there, unsure of what he should do. Just as he was about to place his arms around her, she pulled away. “Are the twins still with you?”

“Yes,” he said, confused. “Why?”

She pulled on his arm. “They’re traitors, Barren!”

They headed upstairs, but just as they reached the deck, a bell rang out, and the sounds of battle lessened as everyone looked about, confused by the sound. Barren saw it—another ship was approaching. It was massive in its structure, and kingly. The wood was dark and polished, and three masts rose from the deck, bearing bright white sails. It was Tetherion’s ship, designated by the red flag of Maris flying at the head of the first sail.

First he heard Larkin struggle, and then his own arms were taken into an iron grasp as guards seized all of Barren’s crew.

“Prepare the boarding planks,” Lee’s voice rang out. He stood with a white handkerchief pressed to his head. “Our king is about to board.”

It was the most decorated Barren had ever seen Tetherion. Dressed in all his formal attire—black pants, boots, a velvet red coat embellished with gold, and a cape. He even wore a golden crown, heavy with rubies. As he passed over the boarding plank fluidly, his boots thudded against the grain like an ominous drum. His eyes surveyed the crowd, and then they landed on Barren. The pirate’s chest tightened. Those eyes were not the eyes of his uncle. They were not the eyes of the man who had stood in Alex’s office at Silver Crest and asked for help. They were not the eyes of the man he trusted.

The king turned his gaze slowly from Barren and looked at the crowd of pirates. Christopher Lee came forward and bowed, then he took his place beside Tetherion. Barren watched, his jaw tightening. What was going on here? Wasn’t Christopher Lee responsible for betraying the king? Did Illiana not say that Tetherion was responsible for Kenna’s death? How could Christopher Lee bow to the man who’d killed her?

There was movement in the crowd as William struggled to free himself from his captors. “I demand you let me go!” he roared.

The king and Christopher looked passive.

“I believe they have orders to restrain you,” said Christopher Lee. “Since you raised a revolt against your king, you are guilty of treason.”

William’s eyes went wide with disbelief. “How dare you accuse
me
of treason!”

Tetherion laughed and the sound filled the air, sending chills up Barren’s arm. “It is not for you to deny. Lord Lee has told me everything—that you wished to use Lady Larkin as a pawn in order to begin a revolt thinking you could snatch my throne from me…and when you realized you could not hold up against me, you decided to seek the bloodstone.”

William hesitated, not finding the words to speak. “He—but he!”

“He…what? Encouraged you?” Tetherion finished with a wicked smile. “You didn’t have to take the bait. You could have refused…though, I dare say, it would have been far harder for me to kill you and your brother.”

To hear of Tetherion’s evil from others was one thing, but to have it confirmed was devastating. Barren felt angry and sick. He hated that he had trusted this man so completely. Not only was this a ploy to reclaim the gem he’d lost out of greed, but he’d intended to see both his nephews dead. This was about power, and Tetherion’s fear of losing it again.

“Don’t look so pitiful,” Christopher chided William. “I am not the only traitor here.”

“Come forth,” Tetherion ordered with a jerk of his head.

Barren’s heart squeezed once he saw the twins walk toward their father. What Larkin had told him before they’d been captured ran through his head—
the twins, they’re traitors
.

He watched their exchange—the twins bowed gracefully and then Datherious produced Barren’s sketchbook. The king took it in his hands and opened it, brows rising as he observed the pictures. After a moment, he plucked a piece of folded paper from between the leaves, handing the book back to Datherious. He opened the note. Barren didn’t need to look at it to know what it was—the coordinates to the Lyric island.

Barren tried to fight, but his captors held him tight, twisting his arm and stomping on his leg. Barren gave out a cry, which drew Tetherion’s attention and the twins’.

“Come now,” said Datherious with a gaze that made Barren cringe. “Did you really think two princes would give up their life of status and wealth to sail the Orient with a wanted man? We only did what our father asked.”

“You sent them as spies!” Barren roared.

Tetherion raised a brow, as if it had been obvious. “I needed someone to keep tabs on you. Who better than my sons? Your cousins. You were so gullible, believing every word they spoke, so long as it included your precious Saoirse.”

“Why?” Barren demanded. “What have I ever done to you?”