So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)(23)

Jeffrey headed for the stairs, then halted with a jerk. “Oh, I almost forgot. They want some water now. The nun said the wine is too strong.”

“We gave them our best wine,” Landers muttered.

“Aye,” Jeffrey agreed. “But the nun said they have to keep their wits about them so they won’t get ravished.”

The captain’s hands clenched into fists, and his breath hissed as he took in a long breath. “Take them a pitcher of water.”

“Aye, Captain.” The boy scurried off.

“Dammit.” The captain whisked off his hat as he swiveled in a circle. He caught a glimpse of Brody sitting on the trunk, then did a double take. “What are you looking at? Shoo!”

Brody didn’t budge.

“What are you doing so far from shore?”

Brody attempted a small squawk, but it came out more like a belch.

“Trying to get away from a female, aren’t you?” With a sigh, the captain plopped his hat back on, then rested his hands on the wheel. “The Light help me. Now I’m talking to birds.”

After a few minutes, Jeffrey returned.

“What is it now?” Landers asked softly.

“They need a chamber pot. Should I—”

“Take them to the officers’ privy,” Rupert called from above.

Jeffrey blinked. “I thought only you and the captain were allowed in there.”

“We don’t mind,” Landers assured the boy.

“Did you take the clothing that Lady Ellen left behind?” Rupert asked.

Jeffrey nodded. “Lady Brigitta thought the gown was beautiful, but the nun told her it must have been stolen from a woman you ravished.”

With a growl, Captain Landers threw his hat on the deck. “I’m going to wring her neck.”

Jeffrey’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“No!” the captain yelled. “They’re safe, dammit. From now on, do whatever they ask. I don’t want to hear it!”

As the boy scampered off, Brody smirked as well as he could with a pelican beak. The ladies were safe. It was the men who were in danger of losing their sanity.

*

Up in the crow’s nest, Rupert kept calm by surveying his domain. Up here, he was the master. He could sail wherever he pleased, do whatever he wanted, and no one could stop him. Not even a pair of stubborn women belowdecks.

But she was crying. He ejected that thought the second it crept into his head. There was no need to feel guilty. No need to feel anything at all but the satisfaction of knowing he was one step further along on the Official Plan. He would not allow the so-called princess to distract him. Even if she was beautiful. And crying.

Out of sight, out of mind. She could stay belowdecks, and he would remain here. Up here, he was free.

The Great Western Ocean went on as far as the eye could see. Overhead, the endless sky stretched far into the horizon. Most nights, he slept on a pallet on the quarterdeck, so he could feel close to the moons and countless stars.

Others, like Stefan, claimed the enormity of the night sky made them feel small. Insignificant. For Rupert, it made him feel better. The haunting memories, the crushing grief of losing everyone he loved, the years of living in fear—all these things seemed smaller and more bearable when he gazed up at the stars. And the fact that there were so damned many of them made it seem like anything could be possible. Even avenging his family and taking back what was rightfully his. Why shouldn’t his chances for success be as limitless as the stars in the sky?

Hope. The vastness of the night sky gave him hope.

During the day, the sky became an enormous workshop, providing him with an endless supply of air that he could shape and turn as he wished. Over the years, he had fine-tuned his gift, so now he could produce anything from the faintest whisper of a breeze to a hurricane-force gale. And he could narrow the wind. Aim it like an arrow. If ten seagulls lined up on a yardarm, he could blow one off its perch while leaving the others untouched.

Control. The vastness of the sky gave him control.

There had been too many years when he’d had no control at all. After losing everything before turning seven, he had spent the next seven years of his life hiding in caves and basements, constantly fearing for his safety. A hopeless, helpless existence, fraught with fear, hunger, and grief.

Even now, the memory of that time shot a spark of rage sizzling through his body. Never again. He would never be that weak and hopeless again. He’d learned how to harness the wind, and up here, surrounded by air, he had the power of a sorcerer. He had the control he craved. And the satisfaction of being the master of his own destiny.

Shutting his eyes, he inhaled the fresh, salty air and relished the wind brushing against him. Unfortunately, with his eyes shut, a pretty face came to mind. Blond hair and beautiful turquoise—dammit. He opened his eyes and shoved her from his thoughts.

He glanced back to check on the other ships, for they always gave him a great sense of accomplishment. In the seven years since he’d become a pirate, he’d increased his fleet from one to nine.

By the time Rupert had turned fourteen, he had become increasingly rebellious about having to remain hidden. So Stefan had contacted his cousin, Ansel, who was the captain of a merchant vessel. Ansel had agreed to take them on, even though they knew nothing about sailing. Over the next five years, hard work and fresh air had transformed Rupert from a gangly youth into a muscular young man.