Legends of the Vengeance : The First Adventure (9781310742866) Page 3

  Voices grew near. His blood pounded and rushed through his ears, making it difficult to hear until they were just outside the door. He did everything he’d ever learned to calm himself. Breathe slowly and a little shallow. Don’t try too hard to listen. Take a deep breath and back to shallow. Over and over he tried until he was calm and could easily hear the argument outside.

  “—just a boy, Nicolo. He wants to see the world from a foothold that doesn’t rock him to sleep at night. This ship is like a mama’s skirt that you force him to hide behind. It is time for him to grow up a little.”

  “He has proven today that he isn’t old enough to be trusted alone. I was recognized, Jaime. You know what that means. We could have been gone an hour ago!”

  “And not had the wine and water or fruit that we needed. Your men served you well. Now don’t take your fear out on a boy who is, after all, just being a boy!”

  Silence. It could mean two things. His father was either considering Jaime’s argument as a valid one, or he was seeking to gain control before blasting the young man for interfering. Sebastian knew which it likely was but hoped for the other.

  “Listen, Jaime. You know how grateful I am to you for all you have done for us—for Sebastian. His mother—” That silence returned. “Regardless, he is my responsibility. Do not interfere. Go tell Eduardo we’re off.”

  Jaime didn’t argue. Sebastian had not expected that he would. His friend would stick up for him—fight for him even—but he would not interfere when Nicolo Soranzo put him in his place.

  The door opened. Sebastian did not even try to hide that he’d been listening. “You were recognized?”

  “That is not the issue. You left the boat. Without permission.”

  “I just wanted to see—”

  “And if I wanted you to see, I would have taken you myself!”

  “But I’m stuck here on this boat—”

  “Where you are alive and safe,” his father growled. “I do not risk our lives so that you can throw it away on childish games. What were you thinking?”

  Time hung for a moment as if frozen while he debated whether to continue to fight for more freedom or to yield to his father—this time. A look of satisfaction grew on his father’s face. Nicolo thought he would yield and that angered Sebastian. “I was thinking that I am old enough to walk around without an armed guard! I’m just the son of a pirate! No one cares about me. No one wants me. You’re paranoid over something that doesn’t exist! Who cares that someone recognized you. Lots of people recognize you. You’re infamous! You—”

  “Enough. You know nothing, but I tell you this. If I leave you on the boat, you stay on the boat. If I want you in town, I will take you. You’ve done nothing today except prove that you are not old enough to do what it is you think you deserve.”

  “But—”

  “Do you understand me?”

  Again, the silence grew between them. Nicolo’s commanding and resolute, Sebastian’s rebellious. At last, Sebastian nodded, beaten. “Yes, Father.”

  Chapter Four

  Escape

  Tensions ran high. The crew seemed eager to get out to sea again, but first they made for Tunis. As far as Sebastian could see, no one followed. The occasional ship passed, but nothing seemed out of sorts—except his father.

  Edgy. Snappish. Every hour dragged with the pressure that seemed to build in it. Nicolo’s anger seemed overblown and unreasonable. Sebastian couldn’t understand it. It had been years since his father had been so unreasonable.

  Something loomed over them. He could feel it build. When Jaime and Eduardo strode toward the captain’s cabin, Sebastian knew the time had come. He fled down into the hull, across the ship, and climbed up to where he could hear everything said in his father’s cabin. Jaime had shown him the listening post years before when they would chase one another across the ship. Jaime was too busy for that these days.

  “—think it’s time you tell him, Nicolo.”

  “He’s proven himself too young for it. He’s a child.”

  “He’s stretching his legs into young manhood,” Jaime protested. Sebastian grinned to hear his friend sticking up for him.

  Nicolo exploded at those words. “When a boy behaves like a child, he is a child. He is only twelve.”

  “And at twelve, I—”

  “I don’t care what you did at twelve,” Eduardo interjected. His tone shifted and a measure of respect entered, telling Sebastian that he now spoke to Nicolo. “Your men are loyal, but they won’t be forever. You can’t unleash your fury on them indiscriminately like this. You’ve taught them this independence. They seek revenge because of your influence. If you keep this up, they will turn their vengeance upon you.”

  “I—”

  “He’s right. Don’t take your anger at Sebastian—if it is really that—out on innocent men who have served you well.”

  The voices faded into further argument as Sebastian pondered those words. “—if it is really that…” what did Jaime mean? A scuffle above told him he’d missed something. What was it? The boat shifted.

  Curious, Sebastian rushed to see what was happening. Just as he reached the deck, Jaime jerked his sleeve and pointed toward his quarters. “Get in and change. Now. Do not come out until someone comes to find you. Go!”

  “But—” Something in Jaime’s eyes cut him off as he protested. Without another word, Sebastian rushed to his quarters and pulled out the despised garments. He worked swiftly, shedding his shirt and breeches and jerking the hot, stiff dress over his head.

  “I’m too old—what?” Sebastian stared into the bodice with disgust. “That is just not fair. I’m old enough to fight for myself. I’m the best on board with daggers and everyone knows it, but I am still stuck in this stupid dress like a stupid girl.” He glared at the bodice as he stared down at it. “Padding. I guess I’m too tall to be a little girl now. Should I put—” Even as he grumbled, he frowned at the combs that fell to the floor when the skirt dropped into place. “It’s a degradation. I hate this.”

  The door burst open and Jaime hurried into the cabin. “Let me get you fastened up. It fits all right? Giorgio was very proud of the um… enhancements.”

  “Jaime, why? I’m—”

  “Too old not to look like the young lady you’re supposed to be.”

  “It’s ridiculous. I’m good with daggers. I can protect myself. I’m even good with a coltellaccio—not as good as Father, but…”

  “But he loves you too much to risk it.”

  Filled with the anger and embarrassment of his latest humiliation, Sebastian spat, “Loves me enough to rail at me over exploring a town. He boxed my ears!”

  “Fear masks itself as anger. Let’s get your hair in the combs.”

  He heard nothing more of what Jaime said. His friend’s words rolled over and over in his mind until they were tangled and confusing. Fear masks itself as anger. What did that mean? Could it be true? His father’s rage was simply a cover for fear? Fear of what?

  “If that’s true, what—”

  The ship lurched, sending both of them careening across the small space and slamming them into the door. Jaime held one finger over his lips and exited, locking the door behind him. Sebastian clenched his teeth and balled his fists. The walls pressed in on him each time he heard the click of the key in the lock. Sometimes, he shoved his head out the hole in an effort to feel as if he could breathe again.

  He listened at the door, at the porthole, and even the floor—anything to hear what might be happening. A cannon fired, hitting the water a hundred yards away by the sound of it. A warning shot. Eduardo would recommend a sharp turn toward the cannon shot. They wouldn’t expect it. Jaime would recommend not turning at all. Turning takes up precious time if you have to run. A pursuer also wouldn’t expect to see no change of course.

  Sebastian waited to see whose suggestion would prevail. Seconds passed, a minute then two. He grinned. Jaime. It made sense to him too. Once they made it around the tip of
Sicily, they’d be safe. Getting there might not be so easy.

  After another half hour and another cannon splash, it seemed as though his father intended to outrun the other ship. It was probably larger and slower, likely a military vessel. Who else would fire upon them? Who else would his father run from rather than fight?

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  They sailed south to the tip of Sicily, occasional cannon fire causing them to weave, but it was clear even to Sebastian, locked in his quarters, that their pursuers did not wish to sink them. In fact, he wondered if they even hoped to capture them. It was an odd chase and one that made no sense.

  He felt the shift—the change in the water as The Vengeance headed through the Golfo di Noto and out into the Mediterranean. They must be far ahead of the other ship. No cannon fire had announced the presence of their pursuer in the past hour. Of course, Sebastian ached to know who they were and why his father allowed himself to be chased out into the Mediterranean.

  It had been a curious day, and night encroached onto it. Without a moon, they would float until morning and then continue to run. Again, he wondered why. Why had they docked so early and then hurried from port just hours later? Not even a day! Who had recognized his father, and why did that matter now? People knew of Nicolo the pirate captain of The Vengeance. They feared him. It seemed now that the question was: what did Nicolo the dreaded pirate of the Mediterranean fear?

  An hour after dark, he heard the cry of “helm’s-a-lee” and the ship turned sharply. He’d been right. They’d stop at night. A compass might be an excellent navigational tool, but it would not light the ocean to see other ships in the waters. The door latch clicked, and Sebastian jumped—more questions flooding his heart.

  Jaime entered the room, leaned back against the doorjamb and grinned. No, Sebastian could not see it in the dark, but nonetheless he knew his friend still saw the vision of him standing in a young lady’s dress with jeweled combs in his hair and smirked at the memory.

  “Just get me out of it,” he whined.

  “But you looked so fetching. That green looks perfect with your auburn tresses…”

  “I’ll cut it off—it all off. Then maybe—”

  “You will not. You’ll trust the man who has kept you alive for the past ten years and do as he says.”

  “Isn’t it the job of fathers to keep their children alive if possible? If Father wanted me to stay alive, perhaps a change of occupation might be a simpler way to handle the danger.”

  “You know nothing,” Jaime began.

  Sebastian cut him off. “That’s right! I don’t. I don’t because no one tells me anything. Why? I’m the captain’s son, but you all treat me like I’m a wayward street urchin and the crown jewels all at the same time. It’s lunacy.”

  Something in Jaime’s demeanor—Sebastian had seen or felt it from time to time. His friend wanted to tell him something; what it was, he could only imagine. Jaime seemed to remember what it was like to be a boy who wanted people to take him seriously. Then again, he was only twenty-two—just ten years older than Sebastian.

  A second cry to warn of a sharp turn rang out, and the ship rocked as it turned more. “What is happening? Why are we turning?”

  “I should just have you keep that on. We’ll fire in the morning, but we’re going to eat on deck and Eduardo asked for a story. I have a new one I’ve been saving.”

  “That’s good. We’ve heard most of your others until we can tell them ourselves.”

  “You should try it sometime,” Jaime encouraged. “I have always thought you had the passion and talent for storytelling.”

  “I doubt my father would consider it a very masculine accomplishment for his brave son.”

  “He doesn’t look down on me for it, does he?”

  There Sebastian had to agree. Nicolo Soranzo may have one of the finest quartermasters on the Mediterranean, but he respected his boatswain more than anyone else. “I’ll think about it.”

  Relieved, Sebastian pulled off the dress and hung it on a peg in the wall. “Might as well keep it there if we’re going to fire. Why fire?”

  “Captain wants to disable the ship so it will stop chase. He thinks they’ll try to sail through the night, but it’s big and it’s dark. They won’t reach us before morning.”

  “That’s why you kept going even after dark. It’s inky out there.”

  “Like an octopus.”

  Sebastian pulled on his breeches and shirt, grabbed his flute, and turned to follow Jaime. Even in the dark, the young man knew what he did not. “Have you grown attached to those combs already? Your father is right. We should get you a nice jeweled cross and a ring or two.”

  He snatched the offending things from his hair and tossed them at his cot. He’d probably forget about them and poke himself trying to sleep. A fine finish to a rotten day.

  “Let’s just go.”

  “Hungry? I did manage to buy a half-butchered cow while your father was looking for you. Mac and a few of the others are working on it now.”

  The idea of beef, well cooked and seasoned— “Who is helping?”

  “Filipe for one…”

  Sebastian grinned. “Let’s go.”

  To his surprise, several lamps lit the deck. He could see his father standing with Eduardo on the quarterdeck, their telescopes trained on the horizon where they expected the chasing ship to emerge. His father turned and caught sight of him. Shame washed over Sebastian as he realized that his father hesitated to call to him.

  He ran across deck, forgetting his recent attempts to put his childish ways behind him and threw his arms around his father. “I’m sorry, Papa.” Even the familiar papa instead of father felt as if an apology in itself, and by the squeeze he felt, Sebastian knew his father understood.

  “I suppose I can understand why you did it, but you must not—not again. If you want to go ashore, we will plan where we land and make arrangements in advance. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” He wanted to ask why, but it was enough. It had to be enough. For now. Eager to change the subject, he pointed out to sea. “We will fire on the ship?”

  “In the morning. We’ll aim for near a mast and hope for the best.”

  “Who are they?”

  His father did not speak for some time. Just as Sebastian was certain that he would not answer, his father whispered, “El Cazador—I think.”

  “El Cazador? It has been years, has it not? Three? Four? I was just a child! I thought we were rid of him.”

  “It seems he has returned.”

  Two plates of delicious-smelling, sizzling beef appeared, carried by a man Sebastian had never seen. He found one plate, the one that should have been given to Eduardo, thrust into his hands. “Here you are, Captain. Is this your boy?”

  “Get a plate for Sebastian and give that to Eduardo. My quartermaster eats before a child.”

  “Sorry, sir. I didn’t know.”

  “You know now. Go.”

  He waited until the man was out of earshot before he asked, “Who is that man, Papa? How did we have time to take on any new crew?”

  “He’s a man who has suffered at the hands of Spain—or so I thought.”

  “You do not think so now?”

  “I wonder, is all. It is likely coincidence, but our troubles did begin the moment I left his house. Stay away from him and don’t go anywhere alone until I tell you he is safe.”

  “If he isn’t?” The moment he asked the question, Sebastian regretted it. He knew the answer before his father had the chance to speak it.

  “I’ll kill him.”

  His father ruffled his hair, annoying him greatly, and sent him to sit near Jaime. “You’ll like the new story. I think he plans to turn it into some sort of epic tale. I doubt we’ll hear the end of it before we die, but it will be interesting.” Sebastian took two steps before his father called out, “And be sure to play us something when he’s finished. He should have a treat before morning too.”

  Sebastian rea
lized as he settled in to listen to Jaime’s story that he’d forgotten to ask what it was his friend had wanted to tell him when he’d complained about his lot in life. He’d have to try again soon. Very soon.

  Chapter Five

  The Legend: Part One

  Jaime began his story as soon as he took the last bite of bread and gulped down a swig of wine. He stumbled at first, his words as unfamiliar to him as they were to the rest of the crew, but after a few false starts, the young man closed his eyes and began a tale that seemed fantastical.

  Over two hundred years—almost three hundred years ago— in England—London—a family lived and grew wealthy. They were moneylenders—Jews. Joseph ben Saolomon sat in his rooms some time just after midnight when he heard a soft rap.

  “Come in,”

  A short, weasel-like man scurried into the room, closing the door softly behind him. “I have news.”

  “I should hope so. Why else would you knock on my door at this hour?”

  “I was listening to my father talk with some of the other lords. The king is talking about a Statute of Jewry.”

  “What is this statute? What will it mean?”

  “The king is appalled at how many of his subjects have lost their lands to the Jews.”

  “Then,” Joseph spat, “his people should learn to live within their means and not borrow. I should not be condemned for the poor financial choices of fools.”

  “The king doesn’t agree. The statute will outlaw all usury. He’ll take your lands.”

  “What else?”

  The man shook his head. “They didn’t say anything else, but I think you have a little time. He’s only been home for a few weeks. I would get your money out of the country as soon as possible.”

  “You’ve done well for yourself.” Joseph stood and unlocked a heavy metal box. He pulled a ledger from it and thumbed through a few pages until he found the one he sought. “Here you are. I will remove ten pounds from your debt. If this Statute is enacted, I will remove fifty more.”

  The protest that had formed on the man’s lips dissolved just as quickly. “Thank you, Joseph. I will go—”