Storm Unleashed: Phantom Islanders Part III, Page 2

  “Your vessel is large enough to carry my crew, my lord.”

  “Do I get credit for defeating the pirates and stealing the lass? Where is she?”

  I stiffened as the voices moved closer to the bed. Part of me wanted to pretend I was asleep, but the other part couldn’t stand being talked about as if I was some inanimate object.

  “What’s that smell?” Lord Conyngham asked.

  “It comes from her,” Captain Ren said.

  “Kraken’s breath. So it’s true about lack of hygiene on the pirate islands.” He sounded nasal as though he was covering his nose.

  I sat up, fist balling. What did he mean by lack of hygiene?

  “Their indoor plumbing is very primitive,” Captain Ren said.

  “Primitive? I heard they don’t have privies. They go where they eat and sleep.”

  I bristled at the insult. Who in the hell tells them these lies?

  “The girl is feral, my lord. She stabbed two of my men and bit another. You may want to be careful around her,” Captain Ren warned.

  Feral? Seriously?

  “I’ve been around feral animals, so I know how to handle one.”

  Now I was an animal?

  The curtain moved, and I kicked out my right leg, aiming for Lord Snooty’s manly parts, but he was clever. He stood at the foot of the bed, his nose covered with a handkerchief. He studied me with bright blue eyes like Levi’s.

  My throat thickened. Levi better have made it.

  “Feral? I kneed you in the nuts, which is more than what you deserve, you two-faced asshat. The very first chance I get, I will pay you back for every cut and nick. Why don’t you tell Lord Dimwit here why I stink instead of slandering the islanders? Vaarda has a functioning sanitation system.”

  “What does she mean by every cut and nick, Blayney?” The lord peered at me and frowned. “Is that blood on her neck? Is she hurt?”

  Was that concern for me? I didn’t need his pity.

  “She did that to herself when the islanders attempted a rescue and failed.”

  “The islanders?” I laughed. “Two islanders were all it took, and they decimated your crew. You would not be alive if four of them had come.”

  The lord shuddered delicately. “She talks a lot, too?”

  “Aye, my lord,” Captain Ren muttered. “I knocked her out before the dragons brought us to the ship. I can knock her out for the rest of the journey.”

  “I’ll think about it. I can’t stand hysterical females, even Tuh’rens. And you are right. She is feral. Also, I cannot have her in my cabin smelling like that. They’ll never wash off the stench. She’ll have to sleep in the lower deck with the crew. Those are my terms.”

  “That’s unacceptable, my lord,” Captain Ren said. “The prince said she must be treated with utmost respect. She cannot sleep with the crew.”

  The lord gave me one last look and let the curtain drop. “But Tully is not here, my dear Captain Bayney, and this is my ship. If I hadn’t heard your distress calls, you would be swimming home for the next two days with a crew who’d drown after a few hours because they don’t shift regularly.”

  “Surely, you must have a cot in your cabin she could use.”

  “She smells, Bayney.”

  The door opened and closed behind them, and I curled up on the bed. I didn’t care where I slept. The nightmare was the same. I was a prisoner of a mad king and his psychopath grandson, and Storm and Levi were fighting for their lives in the middle of the ocean somewhere. Or worse. The gods might confuse them with the dead and collect them, too.

  Sleep eluded me as I tried to reconnect with Storm. Captain Ren came back for me. I couldn’t look at him without seeing Storm’s bloodied face and wounded body. I threw Captain Ren a look filled with loathing.

  “You are going to help me escape,” I reminded him, and he snorted, pissing me off even more.

  “The prince charged me with finding you, lass, and I never fail to complete a mission. Come on. Lord Conyngham has agreed to let you use his cabin. Try not to kill him while he sleeps.”

  If I didn’t need him to escape, I’d stab him in his sleep for what he’d done to Storm. “You’re not knocking me out?”

  “No. I’m indulging our host. Like most noble families, everything is fun and games with him,” Captain Ren ground out. “He is a very close friend of Prince Tullius, so watch what you say to him.”

  “As long as we have an understanding, I’ll kiss the king’s royal ring, and you’ll find a way to get me the hell off your island.”

  He gave me a brittle smile. “I will not be blackmailed by a Tuh’ren.”

  The images of Storm flashed through my head.

  “Too bad, pal. This Tuh’ren is doing it.” I walked past him, expecting him to say something, but he remained quiet. Probably fuming.

  A plank bridged the decks of the two ships, and we appeared to be the last to leave his ship. Lord What’s His Name’s ship was bigger and newer. And from the crew watching me, they were dressed better than Storm’s swordsmen.

  I walked past them to the doorway, where Lord Conyngham stood. He stepped back, blue eyes studying me warily.

  “What’s your name, she’lahn?”

  Was that pity in his eyes and voice? Had the captain told him how they’d finished off Storm? I wanted to say “Miss Greendale,” but I was exhausted and my eyes hurt from crying. And the gentleness in his voice soothed my exposed, raw nerves.

  “Lexi,” I said.

  “Welcome to my ship, Lexi.” He waved toward the bed. It dominated one side of the room. “The wardrobe is through that door. If you need something to eat or drink, let me know.”

  His cabin was bigger and more lavishly decorated than Storm’s. The table at the other end was also huge with a couple of lounges, leather chairs, and a bookshelf. The presence of a bottle and two goblets said they’d been drinking—and probably discussing Captain Ren’s slaughter of the islanders.

  “Use the bed,” Lord Conyngham said. “We won’t be home for two more days or longer, depending on the gods, and you need your rest. A bath would have been nicer, I’m sure, but the gods are coming for the dead and we don’t want them mistaking you for one, or I’d personally throw you overboard and insist you wash off the stench. You won’t be disturbed in here, except at meal times. I give you my word. The captain and I will be here in case you need something else.”

  Why was he being nice to me? Maybe he was sorry.

  “Lord…?”

  “Conyngham,” he said.

  “Thank you for the bed, Lord Conyngham, but I don’t need your pity or your food.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Pity is not an emotion I bother with, she’lahn. Let’s just say I’m feeling charitable, so take the bed before I change my mind. And whether you eat or not is really up to you.”

  I stared at him, then the captain, who’d followed me inside and was pouring a sizable amount of rum in his cup. I hated them both.

  Without saying a word, I walked to the bed and curled up on top. I tossed and turned, not finding a comfortable spot. Or maybe it was the constant drone of voices from the other end of the cabin bugging me, or the motion of the ship. The waves were rough, probably the gods coming to the surface to collect the dead. Whatever the case, sleep eluded me.

  Just when I resigned to staying awake for the rest of the time, my body went limp and I knew one of them had knocked me out.

  Damn Hy’Brasilians. I really, really hated them all.

  CHAPTER 2

  I woke up to my cheek pressed on a wooden surface and covers on top of me. Had I fallen off the bed? My stomach twisted with hunger pangs. I hadn’t eaten in two days, choosing to stay in the bed and nurse my pain and despair with tears and mental rants. I’d even hated getting to use the toilet.

  The pity-fest was over. I was determined to get through this ordeal until Storm came for me. If he did. No, I couldn’t afford to think like that. He was alive. He would come for me.

  It was so
dark I couldn’t see a thing, and for once Captain Asshat and Lord High and Mighty were not arguing. Every time they came inside the cabin, they yapped nonstop about politics and some underground movement in Hy’Brasil. Lord Conyngham insisted the thugs running it just needed a good flogging. Captain Ren disagreed.

  He argued for rights to shift and to marry whomever they pleased, the right to be treated with common decency, everything that Storm exemplified, yet he’d been ready to hand him over to the mad king. Asshole. Obviously, he was your typical ambitious military man who’d do anything to further his career.

  I listened for the sounds of water slapping the hull. There were none. The sea felt calmer after two days of giant waves caused by the gods collecting their dead. I reached out to push the curtains aside, and my fingers touched something smooth and firm. I followed it. It was a wall of some kind.

  I felt around whatever I was lying on. I noted the wood. And the size. I slept on a wooden lounge. The ones in Lord Conyngham’s cabin had leather cushions. Maybe the stench from my body had finally gotten the better of him and he’d dumped me below deck.

  I’d never met a more entitled, pompous man in my life. He’d begged me to eat, and it had felt good to throw the offer back in his face. I could still see his shocked expression at my choice of words.

  I grinned. That I could find anything remotely funny said sanity was slowly returning. Voices reached me from somewhere to my right.

  “What are you doing in my house in the dead of the night?” a woman asked.

  “I brought you someone who needs cleaning.”

  I recognized Captain Ren’s voice.

  “I didn’t want to take her to a public bathhouse. When you’re done, give her a place to sleep. I’ll return for her in the morning.”

  “This has got to stop, Ren. Is she one of your Tuh’ren strays?”

  “She is a Tuh’ren, but not from here. She’s from Port Vaarda. The one the king’s men missed.”

  “You found her?” The woman’s voice dropped to a whisper, and I had to strain to hear her. “You can’t leave her in my home, Ren. I don’t want to deal with anyone that involves the king and the oracle.”

  “No one said you would. I can’t present her to them smelling like she does. See if you can use the special powder on her hair, and get her something decent to wear for later.”

  “Did you hear anything I said? I cannot have her in my home. Let the palace clean her up.”

  “The staff gossips, Morgana. It was a toss-up between you and that insufferable Lord Conyngham.”

  “Dathan?”

  “How many Lord Conynghams do you know? I lost a ship he could have towed in.”

  “What happened?”

  “He found us stranded at sea and brought us home, including my crew. For two days, I had to listen to him prattle on about how people like us were a nuisance for wanting change. I might disagree with the way the underground movement runs things, but they have valid reasons for wanting a more moderate Hy’Brasil. One second in his insufferable company and I would have punched his pompous nose.”

  “He’s not that bad, Ren. He just gets bored easily.”

  “Boredom comes from being idle. If he and other nobles stopped partying and hunting game for sport, and took an interest in the welfare of the people, the kingdom would be at a much better place.”

  “Please, don’t start. You know I can’t stomach politics.”

  “Of course, you can’t. You attend their parties.”

  “Ren!”

  Silence followed.

  “I apologize.” Captain Ren sounded contrite. “I shouldn’t take out my frustrations on you. I’m heading to the compound to report to my superiors. If the generals know I found the lass and why she’s at your house, the oracle won’t question her presence here.”

  “Oh. Why didn’t you start with that? And so you know, I’m going to start charging you for these favors. The lack of sleep from the ungodly hours you make me keep. The clothes you never replace. The food. I could go on forever.”

  “I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Remember, we don’t want anyone to know she’s here.”

  Their voices faded away, but I was left baffled. The man who’d kidnapped me and wanted to see Storm hanged collected stray Tuh’rens? Where did he take them?

  Footsteps approached, and I angled my head to listen. There were two sets, one heavier than the other. The light they carried flickered in the air, making it possible to see where I was.

  Behind me was a marble wall with a built-in bench, and arched along it was a changing screen. As the footsteps drew closer, I lay down, tucked the covers under my chin, and pretended to be asleep. People tended to talk when they thought you couldn’t hear them.

  “Ren rescued her from the rogue islanders,” the same woman who’d spoken earlier said.

  What had he called her? Morgana.

  “I hope they didn’t plow her belly and leave her with child.”

  Plow my what? Did that mean rape? Didn’t they know anything about Storm’s people?

  “They are so barbaric,” a new voice said.

  She sounded young.

  “What’s that smell?” she asked.

  “It comes from her, the poor lass,” Morgana said.

  “I guess it’s true what they say about the islanders,” the girl said. They were closer now. “They don’t have privies. We’ll need a lot more than this to make that smell go away, Lady Morgana.”

  “Then get more and check on the heating water.” Footsteps moved away. Then someone entered the opening of the screen and approached me. “Poor child. First the filthy scourge of the seven seas, now the mad one.”

  Filthy…? I bit my inner cheek to stop myself from yelling at her. She knelt, lifted the cover, and tsked.

  “Pirate clothes. They couldn’t even give you something decent to wear,” Lady Morgana mumbled. “Probably kept you naked the entire time for their depraved pleasures. I don’t know what’s in store for you, lass, but it can’t be worse than what you’ve been through.” She tucked the blanket around me and moved away.

  What I’d been through? I’d been welcomed with open arms, pampered, and treated like a princess in Vaarda. Everyone, from the captains to the tavern wenches, had been nice because I was Storm’s lass.

  I didn’t realize the other girl was back until I heard water running. Thankfully, it drowned their voices as they continued to talk about Storm and his people. Tears of anger rushed to my eyes. I wasn’t sure how long I could listen to lies about Vaarda before I lost it.

  It was a while before Lady Morgana returned and shook my shoulder. I ignored her.

  “Come on, lass. You don’t want to sleep in your filth.”

  She shook harder until I opened my eyes.

  “Oh, she’lahn. Don’t cry. You’re safe now.”

  What was wrong with me? Crying because this stupid woman and her maid, or whoever the girl was, said terrible things about the people I loved wasn’t going to change anything. I had to get my shit together. I was sure the entire population on this island had been brainwashed against Storm’s people.

  “Come on.” Lady Morgana got up. “Remove the clothes, and let’s get that filth off you.”

  She stepped back and watched me struggle to stand up without lifting a hand. Not that I blamed her. I reeked, and she looked like she didn’t lift a finger much in her pampered life. Something about Lady Morgana’s white, silk and lace nightgown and velvet, hooded cloak reminded me of Sienna’s mother. My hands tightened on the covers as I got to my feet.

  “Can you talk?” Lady Morgana peered at me. “Do you understand me?”

  I wish I didn’t. Part of me wanted to fake muteness and deafness so she and her friend out there could speak freely around me, but I refused to sink that low. That didn’t mean I wanted to talk to her either. If I did, I’d tell her off for making stupid assumptions about Vaarda.

  I nodded.

  “You poor thing. You must be in shock afte
r what you’ve been through. Do you need help getting undressed?”

  “No,” I protested and took a step back.

  “Uh, she speaks,” she said, smiling. “I knew that would get you. Tuh’rens are never comfortable with nudity. The ones Ren brings to me to clean up are always just as skittish. Come on. Undress. Riva is bringing in hot water.”

  “Can I have some privacy, please?”

  After she left, I removed the shirt I’d borrowed from Captain Ren and covered myself with the blanket. Then I stepped from behind the screen.

  We were inside a bathhouse, not a washroom like I’d thought. Made of marble, instead of just cement, it had built-in benches along the walls, one medium-sized rinse pool, and several marble bathtubs lined up between the screens instead of smaller scrub pools. The girl filling one of the tubs looked up and smiled shyly when our eyes met.

  She looked about my age. Like the lady, she wore a nightgown and a cloak, but hers appeared made of cheaper cotton. She turned off the water and left the room.

  I sniffed and frowned. A weird smell wafted in the air, and it wasn’t coming from me. Lady Morgana directed me to sit on the nearest bench, scooped something from a bucket, and dumped it on my head.

  “What the hell, lady?” I jumped up and brushed the powder off my hair. It was responsible for the smell. “What did you put on my hair? It stinks.”

  “You stink worse.” She nudged the bucket toward me and offered me the scooper. “Take it. The powder will kill the germs crawling in your hair and take away the stench.”

  “I don’t have germs in my hair. If your boyfriend hadn’t dragged me through a sewer…”

  Why was I explaining myself to her? I couldn’t get rid of the stupid powder, and some was getting on my face. I glared at the woman.

  “It smells like toilet cleaner,” I griped.

  She grinned. “We do use it to clean privies, too.”