Daughter of the Pirate King (Daughter of the Pirate King #1)(4)

After all, Father suspected that most of the men would be killed once Draxen took me. Lucky for them, I was able to save most of their miserable lives. I hope Father won’t be too upset.

But that doesn’t matter right now. The point is that I’m now aboard the Night Farer.

Of course, I couldn’t make my capture look too easy. I had a part to play. Draxen and his crew can’t suspect me.

They can’t know I was sent on a mission to rob their ship.





Chapter 2

I ENVY RIDEN’S BOOTS.

They’re of a fine workmanship and black as a shark’s hungry eye. The buckles look to be pure silver. The leather is firm and tight. The material folds around his calves in a perfect fit. His steps thud on the deck. Sturdy. Loud. Powerful.

Meanwhile, I constantly trip as Riden drags me along. My too-big boots keep nearly falling off. Whenever I hesitate so I can readjust them, Riden yanks harder on my arm. I have to catch myself several times before I fall to the floor.

“Keep up now, lass,” he says merrily, knowing full well I’m incapable of doing just that.

Finally, I stomp on his foot.

He grunts but, to his credit, does not let me go. I expect him to hit me like Draxen did, but he doesn’t. He just hurries me along faster. I could, of course, break away from him easily if I wanted to. But I can’t seem too adept, especially when pitted against the first mate. And I need the pirates to settle down around me after my display back on the other ship.

This ship is empty except for the two of us. All of Draxen’s men are over on my ship, relieving it of anything valuable. Father gave me enough coin to make the pirates happy but not too profitable. If I had been found traveling without any money, Draxen was bound to be suspicious.

Riden turns me to the right, where we face a set of stairs leading belowdecks. It’s an uncomfortable trip downward. Twice I miss a step and nearly tumble all the way down. Riden catches me each time, but his grip is always firmer than necessary. My skin will likely be bruised by tomorrow. Knowing this makes me angry.

Which is why when we are three steps from the bottom, I trip him.

He’s clearly not expecting it. He falls, but I didn’t take into account that tight grip of his. So, naturally, he takes me with him.

The impact is painful.

Riden gets to his feet quickly, yanking me up with him. Then he shoves me into a corner so I have nowhere to run. He rakes his deep brown eyes down and up, regarding me with curiosity. I’m something new. A project, perhaps. An assignment from his captain. He must learn the best way to deal with me.

While he watches me, I wonder what it is he gathers from my face and stance. My role is the part of the distressed and exasperated prisoner, but even when playing a part, pieces of a person’s true self can sneak through the cracks. The trick is controlling which part of me I want him to see. For now, it is my stubbornness and temper. Those I don’t have to pretend.

He must come to some conclusion as he says, “You said you would be a willing prisoner. I can see your word does not mean much to you.”

“Hardly,” I retort. “If you had given me a chance to walk to the brig without your help instead of bruising my arm, your knees wouldn’t be smarting.”

He says nothing while amusement lights up his eyes. Finally, he extends his arm in the direction of the brig, as if he is a potential partner presenting me with the dance floor.

I step on without him, but from behind me he says, “Lass, you’ve the face of an angel but the tongue of a snake.”

I’m tempted to turn around and kick him, but I manage to hold myself in check. There will be plenty of time for me to beat him soundly once I’ve gotten what I came for.

I stand tall and walk the rest of the way to the brig. I observe the different cells quickly, selecting the cleanest one. Really, it looks just like the others. But I try to convince myself the dark substance in the corner is dirt.

At least the cell has a chair and a table. I will have a place to put my belongings. I don’t doubt for a moment that the captain will keep his word. It is mutually beneficial for all pirate captains to be honest with one another, even if we’re likely to kill one another in their sleep. No deals and negotiations would be possible between rivaling lords without some semblance of trust. It’s a new way of life for every pirate. My father introduced the concept of honesty into the pirate repertoire. All the pirates who wanted to survive under the new regime had to adopt it. For anyone found being dishonest in their dealings is quickly disposed of by the pirate king.

I inspect the seat of the chair. Everything is too dirty for my liking, but it will have to do. I remove the large brown leather coat from my shoulders and cover the seat and back of the chair with it. Only then do I sit.

Riden smirks, probably at my clear unease in these quarters. He locks me in the cell and pockets the key. Then he pulls out a chair for himself and sits down, just on the other side of the bars.

“What now?” I ask.

“Now we talk.”

I make a show of sighing dramatically. “You already have me prisoner. Go claim your ransom and leave me to sulk in peace.”

“I’m afraid your father’s money is not all we want from you.”

I clutch the neckline of my cotton shirt as though I’m worried the pirates intend to undress me. This is part of the act. It would take a lot of men to restrain me; I have no trouble handling three at a time. And no more than that would fit in this cell.