Page 63 of The Tempest
Watching all of this, Declan sank back into his seat.
He wasn’t sure who these men were, but they were organized. The ship moored out in the river was large and well appointed. These were pirates—he knew the breed—but they weren’t any pirates he was acquainted with. He knew Santiago de Fernandez’s group, and he also knew St. Abelard’s Triton’s Hellions, but this group… He had no idea who they were.
And that made him quite curious.
Whowerethese men?
Over at the tables where the pirates were drinking and eating, one man in particular caught his eye. He was young, dark-haired, and went around making sure all of his men werehaving a good time, like the host of a party. It was that same young man who moved away from the group and began to shout in the middle of the common room.
“I am looking for someone and I am willing to pay!” he announced. “I am looking for the men who were aboard those ships on the shore. They are led by a woman and I want to talk to that woman. I will pay handsomely for anyone who can tell me where they are.”
That statement brought a bolt of shock through Declan, but he didn’t respond to it. Not right away. He simply sat there near the window overlooking the river, cup of ale in hand, and wondered what in the hell this man wanted with his mother. Not that he was protecting the woman, but he didn’t want to be the focus of an attack if the man had a vendetta against Maude.
But the man didn’t give up. He didn’t look angry, or even peeved, that no one had responded. He began to walk around the room, pointing to the ships and asking questions. Everyone he spoke with couldn’t tell him who those ships belonged to, and all the while, Declan knew the man would eventually come to him. He had to come up with a plan, and it all centered around one thing—if he truly wanted to take command of Medusa’s Disciples, then he would have to get rid of his mother. Remove her somehow. Not necessarily kill her, but remove her. Her and Francis.
Perhaps this mysterious stranger would help with that plan.
So he sat and drank, waiting for the man to come to his table, which he eventually did. Declan looked up from his ale, casually, as the man stood over him.
“Have you seen the woman who commands those ships, my friend?” he asked, pointing out toward the river. “I am willing to pay handsomely for information if you have.”
Declan approached his answer carefully. “A runaway wife, mayhap?” he said, trying to make light of it. “Women are nothing but trouble.”
The man grinned. “Not a wife,” he said. “Not my wife, anyway. But she was my father’s wife and he loved her dearly. Do you live in this village? Have you seen any unfamiliar women?”
Declan indicated the seat across from him. “Sit down,” he said. “Let me buy ye a meal. A drink, mayhap. Let us speak on this woman ye’re looking for.”
The man pulled out a chair. “Can you help me?”
“Possibly. My name is Declan, by the way. And ye?”
“Arnaldo,” the man said as he sat. “I am the Duc de Tarragona. Before you call me a liar, know that it is true.”
Declan smiled faintly. “The Sea God.”
The man’s smile vanished. “How would you know that?”
Declan waved the tavernkeep over, demanding drink, before he replied. “Because ye are looking for the Portuguese princess,” he said. “But I think ye are looking for Bloody Maude most of all.”
Arnaldo suddenly produced a dagger, pressing the tip at Declan’s throat before he could draw another breath. “Tell me who you are and how you know that,” he spat. “Tell me before my dagger cuts off your head.”
“Do that and ye’ll never know.”
He had a point. Arnaldo pondered that for a moment before sheathing the dirk, but his expression was still suspicious.
“Tell me how you know who I am and who I seek,” he demanded.
Declan remained calm. “Because I want what ye want,” he said. “I want tae see Bloody Maude put in her place. I’ll tell ye where she is if ye promise not tae kill her, but only take her captive. Take her far away and put her in a place she canna escape from.”
Arnaldo’s expression grew puzzled. “Why?” he said. “What is she to you?”
“My mother.”
Arnaldo’s eyes widened. “You are a son of Bloody Maude?”
Declan nodded. “I am,” he said. “And her fleet should be mine.”
Arnaldo was genuinely surprised. “She took my ships.”
