The Merman and the Barbarian Pirate (10 page)

Haverford relinquished his grip and traced the line of Raef's jaw with his leather-clad thumb. "That's a rum moniker. I like it. I like
you
, young Raef."

This was Lord Haverford,
his
Lord Haverford. Proximity hadn't diminished the perfection of Haverford's features. Haverford ran his tongue around slender lips, and Raef's breath caught. Was Haverford about to kiss him? Once, the prospect would've made him weak with pleasure. Now, his innards churned. Bile rose up in his throat.

"I have an idea," drawled Haverford, pressing him back 'til he was braced against the stable wall. "Tomorrow, I'd like to take you on a little voyage. There's a spot that I bring only the most bang-up young coves and bits of muslin to." What
was
Haverford talking about? He was just as incomprehensible as those pirates. "It's a cave. I think you'd enjoy it there. The views are splendid, and we can get to know each other properly. "

No!

The scream from Raef’s heart nigh unhinged him, overwhelming his ability to speak. It was too late. Haverford's hard lips were upon Raef, sloppy and wet and tasting foul. He jabbed at Raef's mouth with his tongue, forcing entry. Raef struggled not to gag. Haverford snaked his free arm around Raef's shoulders and ground the hard bulge in his breeches against Raef's belly, dangerously close to the dagger tucked in his waistband.

Haverford's dagger.

Oh, gods.

Haverford broke away and jumped back, leaving Raef panting and fretting. "What's this? Since when did ragamuffins come to my property armed?"

Amid his panic, Raef decided it would be best to be as close to honest as he dared. He pulled out the knife and presented it, sheath first, to Lord Haverford. "The dagger is yours, I believe, my lord. I, er, found it on the beach, and knew nothing so fine could belong to anybody else. I was going to return it to you."

Haverford snatched the weapon and scrutinized it. "It is mine. And you found it on the beach, did you?"

"Y-yes," replied Raef. Haverford loomed over him, mean and threatening. "Honestly, that's how it happened. That's why I came here."

"I thought you said you were a friend of Stephen's." Haverford clenched his fist so tight the knuckles cracked beneath his gloves. "Are you trying to bamboozle me?"

Raef gulped. "No?"

"What going on?" Stephen appeared at the stable door, rubbing his eyes. "Oh, my lord, I—"

"Do you know this fellow?" demanded Haverford.

"Um, I don't think so, my lord." Stephen blinked, stepping into the stream of the lantern light to gain a better view of Raef. Haverford edged aside to let Stephen see, and Raef charged forward and shoved Stephen from his path. He ran under the arch and made for the gate with all the swiftness he could muster.

"Stop that fellow. Confound it! He's with that scaly pirate, for sure."

Haverford's bellows clanged in Raef's ears. A dewy breeze whisked against his cheeks, the fresh smell of wet grass filling his nostrils. He charged through the early morning gloom, putting all his hopes into his human legs' ability to carry him. Fortunately, he felt much stronger than the last time he'd shifted. He charged down the driveway, setting the white animals bleating and scattering, and coneys dashing for their burrows. A bell began to chime. Folk would make chase for sure.

From behind him, morning light streaked in dappled shafts and carved cracks in the brooding sky. If he could just make it to the water, fortune would be on his side.

Reaching the seashore, Raef kicked off his shoes and plunged into the breakers. He gasped as they slapped his shins, his thighs, and then his groin. The cold sliced much more cruelly into his human form than his merman one, but he'd no chance to cringe or hesitate. Shouts shattered the peace, setting the crows screeching in their treetop bowers. Raef inhaled deeply, then dived forward, swimming as far as he dared before surfacing for air.

When he did, the swell of the whitecaps shielded him from the beach. He kicked his way out of his trousers, which he knotted about his arm in the nick of time. He dipped back under, as the sun breached the eastern horizon, and the shift into his merman form took hold.

Raef's swim up to Lilhaven took nigh as much time as the sun's passage across the sky. When he paused among the waves to gaze upon the
U
-shaped cluster of houses in the cove, they were bathed in evening light. The royal dragoons would soon be in town, Haverford and his yeomanry cavalry too, and Kemp might already be there. There was no sign of the
Alice O'Shanty
in the harbor, though that did not surprise Raef. Kemp would've found somewhere safe and secret to moor her. As Raef well knew, there were plenty of hidden creeks.

Having already checked the coast in the north, Raef opted to swim south to trace the
Alice O'Shanty
. If Kemp and the crew were still on board, he could warn them before they marched into danger.

He explored several coves familiar to him, including one of his favorite dreaming spots, where the crumbling cliffs formed patterns that resembled animals, fish, and faces. Eventually, he spied the main mast and crow's nest of the
Alice O'Shanty
peeping from between the rocks of a narrow inlet, the ship's position close to invisible from the sea, let alone the shore. He sought out the deep-water channel the ship had navigated, and soon drew within spitting distance of the barnacles that clung to her hull.

The creek seemed tranquil, and so was the ship. Raef gripped a rope dangling over her port side and hauled himself up, a feat that set his biceps straining. Peeping over the rail, he experienced a surge of apprehension that mingled equally with disappointment. The deck was empty, save Victor, who was slumped at the bottom of the mainmast. The old man slept with his mouth agape like some sea beast basking for shrimp. No sign of Kemp; the rest of the crew must've already traveled to the village. Raef would have to change into his human shape to pursue them. He’d be in great danger entering the port with Haverford at large and thinking him a thief.

But he'd do it, and he laughed ruefully at the fickleness of his resolution. Two days ago he'd have done anything for Haverford, and now a contrary determination grew by the minute. He'd swim down to Lilhaven and risk his neck to save Kemp.

Once he was back in his human body, Raef scrambled up the beach and climbed up onto the Lilhaven jetty. Though the evening pressed on, the quayside still bustled. Fortunately, there was as yet no sign of uniformed men. The royal dragoons and yeomanry cavalry had still not arrived. A series of blazing beacons lit the wharf where several boatloads of fisherman were bringing in their catches. A gaggle of older women gutted the fish while girls in colorful headscarves peddled whelks, clams, and mussels. A freshly-caught lobster waved its antennae at Raef from a wicker cage.

It wrenched Raef's heart, but he could hardly stoop to free it. He attracted more attention than he liked as it was for being a stranger, and because of his sodden clothes. They were the ones he'd been in when he'd taken the plunge to escape Haverford. He'd dragged them with him through the ocean all day.

"Been for a dip, boy?" asked one bearded fisherman, whose companions laughed as they reeled in their nets. Raef tried not to scowl. He didn't want to make enemies. Neither did he fancy asking these fellows about the whereabouts of Cecilia, let alone enquire if they'd seen any pirates or dragoons.

Besides, something about this place struck him as strange. While the seas reaped riches, the people's clothes were ragged, and the houses were in need of repair and more than a lick of whitewash. Kemp had said Lilhaven was Lord Haverford's town, but Haverford clearly didn't care much for its upkeep.

Raef's experience was fast obliterating the merfolk mantra that fair faces always told of fine souls. His beautiful noble was mean, as well as cruel. Growing ever more pleased he'd chosen to take Kemp's part, Raef hurried past an alehouse, The Bosun's Locker, a crumbling shack alive with revelers. Inside, a fiddler struck up a merry tune and a woman sang in a tremulous contralto. The music enticed him more than the languid strains he'd heard at Haverford's immaculate castle, but he wasn't brave enough to enter. He worried he should—after all, if he'd traveled inland sooner, he might've also learned the truth of Haverford sooner—but everything was still so new and strange.

Farther on, he spied a girl carrying a bucket toward a narrow set of steps, which wound up the cliffs to a higher row of cottages. She'd be his safest target. He ran over, nearly slipping on a thread of wrackweed. "Excuse me, miss."

She turned around, four steps up the flight. She was a tiny, elfin individual with large eyes that twinkled.

"Do you know where Cecilia lives?" he asked.

She tucked a tendril of sandy hair beneath her cap and pressed her small mouth into a line. Maybe she didn't know Cecilia. Then again, this village couldn't number more than a few hundred souls.

At length, she answered, clipped and defensive. "Friend of hers, are you?"

Recalling Kemp's account of the attack on Cecilia and the other women, Raef understood her guardedness. "I'm more of a friend of a friend," he explained. "I need to get a message to a man who might be visiting her today. It's very urgent."

"And what might this friend's name be?"

He breathed his answer. "Jon Kemp."

Her expression softened into a rueful smile. "Very well. See those cottages at the end of the quay?" She pointed to a row of low dwellings back beyond the tavern, lining the base of the cliffs. They were only just visible in the murk behind the beacons. "Cecilia lives in the house at the very end. Will you send her my love, please? She's a sweetheart, and … Oh!" Descending the steps to his level, she retrieved a piece of rag, scooped a few whelks from her bucket, and pressed them upon him. "You give her these. Say they're from Sarah, and be quick, mind. They're tastiest when they're fresh."

"Thank you, I will." She hurried back up the steps, leaving Raef cradling the rag and its soggy contents in his hands. He was hungry, and the prospect of food made his stomach grumble. He forwent the temptation to steal yet again and started along the wharf toward the cottage.

It was quiet at the far side of the village. Raef's nerves buzzed, especially when he spotted a light flickering from the single window of the building at the end. The cottage was perched with its rear wall flush to the cliff and a ten foot drop to the beach on its right. Raef paused, readying to rap his knuckles on the peeling green door. The sound of conversation had him scuttling back and ducking beneath the window. Crouching and listening seemed to have become a habit of late.

"Have you unburied the letter your mother left you?" said a voice, deep and gravelly and unmistakably Kemp. Raef's heart lurched. He couldn't make out Cecilia's whispered answer, so he put down the whelks and peeped inside. A meager fire burned in a hearth, over which dangled a kettle on a hook. In front, a large tabby cat sprawled on a threadbare rug, though the walls were far from bare. Numerous shelves were lined with jars stuffed with nuts, berries, and liquids, and pinned along the fronts were hundreds of dried leaves.

Cecilia, Raef guessed, was a healer. There must be poisons among this horde too, including the acid she'd thrown in her mystery attacker's face. There was but one room in the whole dwelling, for Cecilia's cot bed was pressed to the only blank wall. Her darned stockings were draped over the frame, by which stood Cecilia herself.

She was a willowy girl with long, ginger hair and an air of aristocratic grace that belied her tattered skirts. Kemp, who stooped to fit his height beneath the rafters, grasped both her hands in his. Raef spotted the ruby ring, which glinted from a chain about her neck.

"So the letter reveals the map is probably somewhere in his house," said Kemp. "It's not much to go on, but it's enough. I will break in and get it for you." Kemp fixated on her, and Raef had rarely seen him so grave. It was all so un-piratical. "I solemnly vow it to you. For your trouble is my trouble. 'Tis all our tr—"

Raef felt like stuffing his fingers in his ears. He didn't want to hear more. It looked like Kemp was in love with Cecilia. Maybe that was why Kemp pushed him away. Now Raef had allowed himself to fall in love with this pirate, his heart would end up broken. Damn Kemp, and damn his own stupidity.