Blackheart (26 page)

“Aynore. I compensated the pirate for her sinful alliance, enslavin’ her, just as I did Siren. Women are easily menaced into submission,” Thorn quipped.

“I blamed Zore for Lochlanaire’s death sentence, all this time it was you. Zore’s innocent,” Grayson said, mortified.

“Zore’s hardly innocent,” Thorn grumbled. “You, however, are a fool, Grayson. It was effortless to spread the rumor that Zore was guilty of the shame, which defiled Lochlanaire. They had been locked in a clash to the death anyway.
I,
certainly, would never be suspect of such heinousness.”

“The brawl Lochlanaire fought in the tavern with Elias?” Grayson questioned.

“Was ignited for the spoiled honor of an insignificant tart. Lochlanaire slaughtered her husband for the bloody king at some triflin’ transgression. Learnin’ her husband’s fate, Elias thought he’d have a bit of frippery with her, since she now couldn’t resist his lusty advances. She was nothin’ but a paltry amusement. Lochlanaire discovered that Elias raped her, and he rode to the tavern to restore her violated honor, which, of course, he couldn’t. The tussle fractured Elias’ sanity. He challenged Lochlanaire to a duel that he could never win. I hired my own assassin to shoot Lochlanaire ere the duel could even be begun. Lochlanaire heard the fop while he warred to capture the tree branch he lay upon, and he was shot. Lochlanaire then stabbed Elias’ heart, thinkin’ he’d spun the duel in his favor without chivalry.”

“It was self-defense, Thorn,” Lochlanaire recanted, suddenly remembering everything of the duel against Elias, the brawl beforehand and the assassination of the woman’s husband.

“Lochlanaire, I care
nothin’
if it was in defense of your repugnant life. You’re worthless to me. Elias was all I had. You took his life and the lives of so many others,
heartless
assassin.”

“Others who justified that fate,” Grayson chided, watching Thorn, who slowly began to descend the
Royal’s
stairs toward them.

“Oh? What ‘bout Emerald Rain, Grayson? Siren says her mother was slaughtered only for love. That is not deservin’.”

“Lochlanaire’s soul belongs to the king so honor dictates, Thorn. He must accept that godly alliance,” Grayson reconciled.

“Lochlanaire’s soul is cursed by Satan. Honor is a
sacrilege
, a
trap
by which to chain a man to a diabolical king’s barbarism. Evil spawns evil. Lochlanaire
is
evil,” Thorn barked, never recognizing the contradiction spoiling his declaration.

Dread eclipsed Siren. She saw sparking in Thorn’s merciless glare something she was frightened to witness. “Thorn, please, Lochlanaire did what he was under allegiance to ordain. Even I must accept the truth.”

“Do you, Siren, actually
believe
your preposterous confession, knowin’ what wickedness this cutthroat’s reaped?” Thorn reprimanded.

As he crept to within inches of reaching her, Siren drew her head high. “Yes, Thorn. I uphold my words.”

“What of your guiltless mother? Do you renounce her so effortlessly?”

“I’m not renouncing her, Thorn. I’m saying that Lochlanaire was prisoner of another’s rule. He must obey the king.”

“And what of his treacherous
rewards
that your death decrees, surrendered by King William, Siren?” Thorn’s bemused glance crawled to Lochlanaire, seeking his disgruntled reaction.

Siren surged her attention to Lochlanaire. “What…what rewards? He said his ransom for my life is the ship he captains and another fleet.”

“Oh, yes, Siren, Lochlanaire would only enlighten you of what he bore no choice,” Thorn disclosed. “He
lied.
Lochlanaire gains his repugnant life, along with a manor house with everlastin’ funds for which to preserve it and his title, the Marquis of Braighton. He’s granted a pardon of Elias’ murder, and given the captaincy of three vessels by which to reign as supreme Privateer for the Crown. Oh, yes, and he’ll never be tried for any offense, murder or otherwise. He’s loosed upon the world. He can prey on the seas and he’s to be highly compensated for his future assassinations. Oh, and, of course, his freedom. Ah, but
this
blood-tarnished ransom shall only be gifted to Lochlanaire if
you
, Siren, lie captive in King William’s deadly trusses. If not,
everythin’
decreed to Lochlanaire heretofore is abolished. Am I incorrect, Lochlanaire?”

Lochlanaire withdrew his crestfallen eyes from Siren’s and bowed his head.

“Lochlanaire?” Siren broached, wounded by his lack of response. “Is what he says true?”

Somberly he spoke, “Yes.”

“You lied. All along, you…you had every intention of relinquishing me to King William, even with the child you sired?” Tears stung Siren’s eyes.

“Siren, listen…”

Lightning quick, Thorn grabbed Siren and held her for shield, his pistol he cocked and aimed at Lochlanaire. “Drop your weapons or die,” he snarled.

Grayson and Lochlanaire dumped their pistols on the ship’s hull.

Siren explored Lochlanaire’s eyes. She charged her elbow backward, bludgeoning Thorn’s chin. His pistol jarred. The ball released a blaring blast, shooting Lochlanaire. He collapsed upon the ship’s hull, cradling his bloodying shoulder.

Siren screamed.

Raising his other pistol, Thorn whirled to shoot Grayson, who vaulted for shelter but, he, too, fell, shot.

Siren scrambled to run. Thorn slung off his spent pistols. He lunged forward and his arm ringed her stomach. He dragged her to the mainmast, where he tied her and then he skipped to Lochlanaire. Sneering, Thorn hauled Lochlanaire to the ship’s edge and kicked him overboard, laughing devilishly. Afterward, he imprisoned Grayson and threw him overboard, never listening to Siren’s crazed screeches. Thorn unsheathed the two remaining pistols from the leather sash brandishing his chest and he strutted aboard the ship’s quarterdeck stern. He braced himself and shot both weapons, severing the mooring chains. The
Royal
cryptically howled, launching down its arced slip amidst a ferocious heave and splashed the sea.

Thorn loped to its helm. Peeking over the
Royal’s
flank, Thorn yelled at Grayson and Lochlanaire, whose bodies flipped within his vessel’s diving tidal wave, “If you survive,
brothers
, you’ll find me in a hunt for Zore. Join us, if you dare. I’ll slay you all at Satan’s Labyrinth.”

Desperate to loosen her bindings, Siren screeched for Lochlanaire, tears sullied her wild eyes as they scampered to Thorn, who strutted aboard the helm, uncaring.

Unimpeded, Thorn laughed.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Trickery

The tide dragged Grayson ashore. He clasped his bleeding shoulder, his breath labored. He observed the
Royal’s
morbid departure and searched for his wounded brother in churning ocean waves. Lochlanaire bravely swam, flanking the
Royal’s
starboard side, frantic to keep from drowning in its deep trench. The severed mooring chains swept behind the ship. Lochlanaire groped for a link and began to hoist himself upward. He climbed over the ship’s rim, and dropped aboard the
Royal’s
quarterdeck at its stern. Thorn never saw him, for he faced forward, trusting in his escape. Lochlanaire knew he must hide and nurse his shoulder. Currently, he was too drained to duel Thorn because of his pistol wound. Without a sound, Lochlanaire tossed his boots to the sea and inched down the stairs. He ignored Siren’s gutting screeches for him and snuck away, veiled by the ship’s cavernous abyss.

Thorn steered close enough to the
Ranger
for several of its men to jump aboard his ship. He grabbed a jeweled sword, and chopped the
Ranger’s
anchor cable, applying one vicious swipe. Both ships heaved sail and faded amongst the distance to the baffled eyes of those witnessing aboard
Satan’s
Victory
.

Below decks, mindful to heed his footfalls of the men who boarded the
Royal
as it shadowed the
Ranger
, Lochlanaire crimped bedclothes and staunched the blood flow. He was aware, all the while, that the shot must be removed of his arm. He bandaged the wound, using linen strips, and prowled among the darkness for hours, eventually finding, in the crew’s quarters, a porthole by which to peer through. Lochlanaire realized then that the
Royal
had discarded
Satan’s
Victory
, but the
Ranger
reflected the
Royal’s
stature. Both ships lay currently stalled, for the wind died with moonrise. Lochlanaire speculated on where Thorn would encage his captive, leaving Siren to seethe, certain Thorn will keep her alive for her eventual return to England. Lochlanaire’s shrewdest course, he believed, would be to see if he could sway Aynore into an alliance. They’d had a rapport once. Lochlanaire prayed that their past might alter her to his allegiance. As a solitary militant in the mutiny, he’d never wage victory against his insane brothers.

Waiting for almost all hands to seclude themselves inside the ship’s hull for the night, Lochlanaire kept a weather eye on Thorn. The bloody blighter stood aboard the
Royal’s
bridge, looking through the gold and jewel-embedded spyglass, surveying the waters for foes. He did not see Siren anywhere. Lochlanaire concluded that Thorn had her removed. He broke the dim lantern light, and tiptoed to the ship’s ridge where it was anchored under grappling hooks thrown off the
Royal
and the
Ranger
. Lochlanaire vaulted from the
Royal
to the
Ranger’s
main deck, seen by no one, and snuck across the ship to the captain’s quarters, hopeful Aynore would be in attendance. As a goblin, Lochlanaire tried Aynore’s door, and shoved it open without startling his unguarded quarry. She stood, her back presented, by the desk, writing in her logbook.

Lochlanaire’s palm gagged Aynore’s mouth from behind, her screeches unheard. His voice snarled venomously, “Scribing of your dastardly mutiny, Aynore Lacy?”

Aynore struggled to free herself but was unsuccessful. She dropped the quill and log she’d held to the desk.

“If I free your mouth so you may speak, you shall not scream, Aynore, or I’ll break your bloody neck ere the screech leaves your throat. Understood?” Lochlanaire tightened his grip, proving his power over her.

Aynore nodded her agreement.

Lochlanaire released her mouth, but his fingers cringed around her throat. He forced her to confront him. “You’re a traitor, Aynore. All this time you’ve allied with Thorn, spouting lies, granting him the ability to butcher aboard my ship in his quest for my blood.” Lochlanaire’s hand squeezed tighter.

“I was offered no choice, Lochlanaire. Foolishly, I trusted Thorn. I was in love with him.” Tears filled Aynore’s despaired eyes.

“You were in love with him…and now?”

“I detest him to my brutalized soul. I swear, I knew nothin’ of Thorn’s satanic intentions until we caught up to your ship, Lochlanaire.”

“Where does your alliance lay now, Aynore?”

“I avow, Lochlanaire, I wanted to halt Thorn’s travesties, but he threatened to slay me. My allegiance belongs to you if you’ll help me destroy him.”

“How do I trust you? You’ve lied since our meeting aboard
Satan’s
Victory,
” Lochlanaire grumbled, suspicious.

“You must accept my word.”

“Blood.”

“Blood?”

Lochlanaire grasped her knife from the desk, severed the palm of Aynore’s left hand and laid it, enswathing his shoulder’s bleeding flesh. Their blood mingled in a lawless alliance.

Weakening at the loss of blood, Lochlanaire released her and faltered to her bed. Aynore aided him. He flopped across the furnishing. “The pistol wound. The shot must be drawn,” he muttered.

Aynore gathered a water pitcher, linen cloths and her knife, discarding all beside the bed. She sliced Lochlanaire’s shirt using the knife and began the cruel task of digging out the ball, discounting his grimaces and groans. “What’s occurred, Lochlanaire? All I’m aware of is that Thorn stole that ship and we escaped under his direction, for he cut my anchor.”

“He’s not Thorn. He was born of my mother, but his legitimate name is Wolf Larnon. My father adopted him as a babe. We never knew he was adopted or of his alternate identity ‘til this day. He never felt…
ouch, damn it, woman
…that he was a Blackheart. When his brother raped a woman, I took vengeance for the wrong and his brother, Elias Larnon, and I brawled. Shamed, Elias insisted on a duel. Prior to it, I found myself deceived and shot dead a man Elias and Wolf cloistered in the forest’s depths. They schemed to slay me before the duel was pursued to its deadly conclusion. With Elias’ mutiny, I stabbed him. Wolf hunted vengeance, testifying to the constabulary that I killed Elias in cold blood. I was jailed for the crime, left to die.”

“Your
own
brother imprisoned you?” Aynore positioned the knife tip under the pistol ball and it was extracted with a sucking whoosh. Retrieving the ball in her sticky fingers, Aynore pitched the talisman of death to a basin and applied pressure over the blood-surging hole.

Lochlanaire’s fist released. “Aye. Thorn despises us Blackhearts. He says we were awarded privileges where he received little from our father. After he discovered that he was not a Blackheart but a Larnon, he searched out his brother, Elias. When I stabbed Elias, it twisted his mind insanely. He’s chased revenge since, unbeknownst to me, Grayson, or Zore.”

“Where is Siren?”

“The beast imprisoned her prior to shooting me. She’s caged somewhere inside the
Royal
. I need you to seek where she’s held captive and learn of her condition, Aynore.”

“What of Grayson?”

“I cannot say if he lives or is dead. Thorn shot him and tossed his body overboard. Upon departing the cave with the
Royal
, Thorn shouted to us. He intends to meet Zore for the purpose of killing him. He challenged Grayson and me to sail after him, aching for us to come to him so he can murder us all at Satan’s Labyrinth.”

“Thorn’s depraved, Lochlanaire, such is why I did not oppose his ghoulishness. As well, I felt ashamed and couldn’t come to you. I believed you would damn me for my treason. I, also, was frightened that Thorn would unveil my attempts to free myself of our tie. Should he have discovered any mutiny I waged, I would assuredly have died and torturously. Thorn’s madness is rampant.” Aynore wrapped Lochlanaire’s shoulder, gently tying cloth strips.

“The tide favors me, Aynore. Thorn’s oblivious to my presence here. You must secret the fact that I’m aboard your ship.”

“I promise, Lochlanaire, Thorn shall not be enlightened by me.”

“Your crewmen? Do they grant Thorn sovereignty?”

“They do whatever
I
say. Thorn possesses only foes aboard this ship, as my men have witnessed his grotesque treason twirled against your men without foundation,” Aynore authoritatively insisted. “He possesses a meager faction of his own men aboard the
Royal
, however.”

“Keep Thorn thinking you’re his ally. We’ll employ trickery once we anchor at Satan’s Labyrinth. If Grayson lives, he’ll sail aboard
Satan’s
Victory
to the island upon which Zore holds Shevaun prisoner,” Lochlanaire announced.

“And what of the treasure Legend was said to disguise?”

“The
Royal
is the treasure. The ship’s laden with gold. Its hull and every object aboard is bejeweled. We found it tethered in a cave, waiting, pretty as you please, for someone to launch the vessel,” declared Lochlanaire.

“A gold-encrusted ship? Astonishin’,” Aynore dreamily replied.

“Aye. Do not glean any whiles of pillaging it, Aynore. The
Royal
belongs to Shevaun and Siren and could be the vessel which may free them from King William’s insidiousness.” Sitting up, Lochlanaire retrieved the knife Aynore applied to loosen the pistol ball. He struggled to stand.

“I judge it wise for you to sleep here, Lochlanaire. Have no despair. Thorn will not come here. Now that he’s conquered his own ship, Thorn demands that I serve him aboard it as if he’s a god and I am his slave.”

Wilting backward, Lochlanaire defied drooping eyes. “If you betray me, Aynore, the consequence is death at a far worse torture than any Thorn could ever conduct.”

“I shall not. I’ll leave you and see if I can gain knowledge of Siren’s whereabouts and condition. Rest. You’ve no fear aboard my ship, Lochlanaire.”

Lochlanaire slid into unconsciousness.

Aynore silently left the cabin, locking the door. Main deck, Aynore gestured for a pirate to come to her, but he admitted to possessing no word regarding Siren’s cloistered jail cell. Boarding the glittery
Royal
, Aynore smothered desolation and sashayed to Thorn, who adorned the bridge.

Aynore employed the witchery of a seductress and learned where Siren was hidden.