Within a Captain's Treasure (29 page)

By the look, today’s auction wasn’t for Africans. A line of woman, chained together like dogs, was being dragged before the crowd. Young, old, weak, strong. The mob jeered and shouted lewd comments as the chained group was towed up onto the block. Sex slaves. Bought and sold into prostitution, life as concubines, some into harems or simply to satisfy the lust of the owner. The youngest and prettiest went to the highest bidder.

Quinn scowled before turning away. “It is a good thing Tupper loathes Port Royal and is still aboard the
Scarlet Night
. She’d be drawing her sword and taking on this whole crowd to set those women free.” He slapped Robbins on the back. “I’ve kept Fin Willy waiting long enough. I’ll meet you and Bump back on board. Tonight we celebrate the new addition to our fleet.” Quinn made a few hand gestures to Bump who nodded in agreement before Quinn headed off to his negotiation for the
White Witch
.

Ric barely noticed. Over the heads of the pack of bystanders, he caught the panicked gaze of one of the women up for sale. She’d been scanning the throng before her. Her face ashen beneath a tangled mop of dark curls. Dirt and scratches marred her face and neck, and one sleeve of her blouse had been torn from its seam at the shoulder.

He moved closer to the block. The noise and energy of the crowd seemed to make the ground tremble. Bump gave a sharp tug on Ric’s arm. He paid him little notice, as he was too absorbed in the scene before him. The raven-haired captive held his gaze. It was as if she were reaching out to him alone. Looking for some tether. Perhaps a sympathetic face in the mob to keep her from tipping into the abyss of insanity.

Whatever the reason, she had found him amongst the dozens of faces and held onto him. Pale frightened eyes seemed to silently plead with him to stop this madness as the bidding began.

Ric’s world narrowed to a pinhole. A buzzing sounded in his ears. His brain screamed at the craziness of his thoughts.
Save her
.

Her tenuous bond was broken when she was jerked to the forward edge and became the next victim to be auctioned off.

“That one be mine,” slobbered the fat man standing next to Ric. He smacked his thick lips and opened a sack of coins.

Ten gold pieces was the starting bid. An auctioneer scanned the crowd for any takers. Ric shoved his hand into his pockets and curled his fingers around the rough coins held there. “Ten,” he shouted. His gaze never leaving her.

The man next to him bid fifteen, another yelled eighteen. Soon the bidding passed twenty-five gold pieces.

“Thirty,” Ric bid, knowing full well he didn’t have more than twenty gold pieces on him.

“Thirty-five,” barked the fat man, narrowing his eyes at Ric before scratching at his crotch.

“Fifty,” Ric countered. In his mind he knew he couldn’t keep this up. Even if he managed to scrape together fifty gold pieces, what would he do with this girl?

The auctioneer smiled an oily grin as if he could sense a bidding war commencing. Turning back, he tore at the woman’s blouse exposing her breasts to the audience. “Show ’em what they be buyin’, Frenchie.”

A black rage flooded Ric as the beast next to him frantically counted coins and raised the bid to seventy-five.

“Eighty.”

“Ninety.”

Blood rushed in Ric’s ears. He shook with anger and the rush of indignation. His stomach turned at the thought of this man laying his fat, filthy hands on her.

Bump tugged on him once more trying to pull him away. Ric scowled at the boy’s imploring gaze and shook his head. No, he wasn’t leaving. He wasn’t going to back down. There was no way he was going to lose her.

“Three hundred!”