Page 4 of The Heart of an Earl

His hands clasped behind his back, the captain strolled back and forth along the line of women and the few men interspersed among them. All the remaining men were older and none of them were in any capacity—by age or body type—able to fight.

The captain, a tall man, but not wiry or fat—with muscle under his red coat, Des presumed—had a short black beard that made him look years older than what his eyes revealed. He ambled along the line of passengers again, moving closer to Des, but then he stopped three people away.

Directly in front of a young girl—eighteen at the most.

“Yer name, lass.” A good foot and a half taller than the auburn-haired girl, he leaned over her, the raw edge of his voice digging into her, making her cringe.

“No, not my daughter.” The woman next to the girl grabbed her daughter about her shoulders, trying to shove her child behind her.

The back of the captain’s ring-filled fingers cut across of the woman’s face without warning, sending the mother flailing to the deck.

“Mama. Mama,” the girl screamed, collapsing to her knees, her arms and body wrapping around her mother, shielding her from the captain as best she could.

The captain had none of it, grabbing the girl’s upper arm and ripping her up from her mother. “Yer name, lass.”

The girl looked to her right at the portly man standing next to her. “Papa—”

The captain gripped her mouth between his thumb and forefinger, dragging her face to his. “No. No papa. No mama. Yer name. To me. Ye look at me.”

Her father made no movement, his eyes on the boards of the deck.

Lily-livered coward.

But the girl met the pirate’s stare. Silent. Challenging.

About to get herself killed.

Des jumped to his left, wedging himself between the girl and the captain, breaking the man’s hold on her, his voice a growl. “She’s just a child. Pick another. Pick none. She’s just a child.”

The captain shifted his look to Des, having to look slightly upward to meet Des’s eyes.

For a long second his cold dark eyes, a gateway to hell, seared into Des’s soul. He sneered. “She’s a full-grown woman. And yer a full-grown fool.”

The swing of a boot from one of the pirates came from Des’s left side, knocking his left knee inward just as the heavy hilt of a sword banged into his temple from the other side. Des dropped to the ground and the captain’s heel was on his neck before he could even think to breathe.

“What’s this?” The captain chuckled to himself and leaned over, the pressure of his boot cutting off all of Des’s air.

“What ye got in yer hand, fine sir?” The captain twisted his boot, grinding the heel into Des’s chin. He plucked out the letter from Des’s grip.

Folding it open, the captain stood straight, his boot keeping Des in place on the deck as he smoothed the wrinkles from the vellum far above Des’s eyes.

Air, he was losing air. No air. Losing light. Black spots dotting in his eyes—expanding, shifting.

An acerbic chuckle cut through the air, but distant. So distant from his ears.

Des twisted his head upward, his hand stretching up toward the paper.

“Listen to this, ye bastards.” The captain waved the paper in the air to his crew. “It says his wife died.” The captain cackled, a vicious raw bark that echoed across the silent waters. “That’s a kick.” He laughed again. “This one—this one we leave alive, boys.”

The captain looked down at Des for a long second, his top lip snarled high, then his head snapped up and he glanced about at his crew still going through the pockets of the passengers standing along the railing. “Be sure to jab him on the way off, though.”

The captain leaned forward, his full weight on Des’s neck.

All air in his lungs gone. Crushed.

The girl set her hand on the captain’s chest, her voice shrill. “Stop. Stop. I’ll go. I’ll go willingly. Just leave the man be.”

The captain stared at her for a long second, then grabbed the back of the girl’s head, yanking her over Des’s body to him. “I’ll know yer name, girl.”

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