Page 7 of Breath From the Sea
“That is none of your concern. Let me speak to your captain.”
The lad ducked into a low bow, one that mocked any sort of courtly fashion. “At your service, my lord.”
Blast… Titus groaned. He was dealing with an adolescent who likely had a large chip on his shoulder. “I must inform you that you are sailing within English waters and are required to return to Ireland.”
“Required?” The young lad locked his eyes on Titus, a challenge in his gaze. “I don’t think that is quite accurate, my good fellow.”
“I assure you it is,” Titus said through gritted teeth.
“Ah, but my good man, we have business in France.”
Not bloody likely and most definitely not of an innocent nature. “What business could you have with the queen’s enemy?”
“That is none of your concern.” The young captain was mocking Titus’ earlier reply. He grinned, showing even white teeth, and a ratherfemininebone structure.
Titus narrowed his eyes, studying the lad. He was tall, but his build was slight, and… a bit curvy. Titus detected a hint of a swell beneath the lad’s doublet—breasts? Overly developed muscles? Impossible. Was the lad actually afemale?
If it were not a ship within the O’Malley fleet he would have doubted it, but given the entire empire was run by a female, how could he have any doubt? Rumor had it that at sea O’Malley herself dressed like a man. Why would any other female dress differently? The lad’s long red hair was pulled back in a queue at the nape of his neck, a cap on top of his head. In fact, there was nothing about him that screamed lad. He could very well be a female. And the longer Titus stared, the more he believed that to be the case. Another thought struck him. What if this was, in fact, the same chit who’d been at court the day before? Her hair was certainly just as fiery. If not her, then a relation, no doubt, to the pirate queen herself.
“What is your name?” Titus asked.
The pirate captain grinned, a teasing smile curled at the corners. “Oh, Captain, I don’t believe we’re quite there yet. I hardly know ye.”
Titus frowned. Whoever this person was, they were mocking him. His blood grew hot with irritation. “Is not sharing your name part of getting to know one another?”
The captain did a little dance on the rails, tapping tiny toes to a tune Titus couldn’t hear. “How about ye share with me where ye’re headed and what your orders are from the queen?”
Preposterous. Did a pirate truly believe he’d divulge that kind of classified knowledge? “That information is confidential.”
The captain laughed. “Nothing is truly confidential. Why, I’m willing to bet most of the men on your ship know where they’re going.” The imp gave a slight nod and, from nowhere, one of the gallowglass barbarians flew through the air and snatched a sailor from Titus’ deck. Within seconds, the poor sailor was standing on the deck of theLady Hook, a thick arm held tight around his neck and a blade pressed to his ribs.
Titus wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his sword. Lady or lad, he was going to take the arrogant captain down.
The imp sauntered toward the sailor, flashing a proud grin at Titus.
“Return my man to my ship at once,” Titus growled. “That is an act of war. I will give you to the count of three and if he is not returned, we will fire upon your ship.”
The captain suddenly faced him, fury on his or her feminine face, red tendrils of hair falling from beneath the cap. A snarl curved lips that had jovially smiled a moment before. The fury there, the lash of anger, it was frightening. If Titus had not been trained with a sword, trained at war, he might have actually been concerned about what the slight creature could do.
“If even one shot is fired, you will not live to see the end of this day,” the pirate said, voice calm, cold. “I promise ye that, sir. I promise that after I finish gutting ye, I’ll moor my ship at your docks once more, and I will hunt down everyone ye hold dear, and I will tell them the news of your death, just before I slit their throats.”
Titus slowly pulled his sword from his sheath. “You’ll be doing no such thing. You’re but a headstrong lad in need of a whipping. Now return my man, else I make good on a beating you’ve been long deserving.”
Fury flashed on the pirate’s face. “Tell me where ye’re going.”
Titus pointed the tip of his sword into the deck floor. “I’ll tell you when you return my man.”
The pirate fingered the blunderbuss at his/her hip. “Tell me first.”
“France. We are going to France. Now send him back.”
He/she chuckled. The curve of his/her throat so delicate and fine that right then and there, Titus decided it was a woman.
“Isn’t it funny we should be going the same way?” She nodded to the barbarian holding the sailor, who let him loose, shoving him toward the rails.
“Don’t push him into the water,” Titus said. “Send him back the way he came.”
“Ye’re taking the fun out of it,” the pirate wench said with her lower lip puffed out, but she did acquiesce, nodding to one of the brutes to give the sailor a rope to swing back on.
