Privateer (The Five Kingdoms #1) Page 2

  She smiled. "Very nice, Ms. Karden," she said.

  I would have spat at her if I could. How dare she touch me like that? I tried to speak volumes with my eyes, but the captain only smiled more deeply.

  "Get them settled, Commander," she said after another moment, her fingers brushing through my hair one last time. "I will be down to accept their parole once we are well out to sea."

  * * * *

  The other captives were lead in one direction; I was taken in another. I didn't resist. The rules were clear, and so far, they had been following them meticulously. They were not allowed to use any more force than was necessary to ensure our compliance, but if we gave them cause to use more force, they were authorized to use it. Struggling wouldn't have accomplished positive results, and so I went were I was taken.

  My captor, the commander, took me aft, her hands on my arms at first, guiding me where she wanted me. When I found myself standing before the first door, the woman stepped past me, one hand continuing to grip my arm firmly, but not painfully. She opened the door and pulled me along behind her. We passed through a short corridor and arrived at a second door. She pulled me in and closed the door. I looked around.

  We were in what was clearly the captain's cabin. Ship design was fairly standard throughout the five kingdoms. They may vary dramatically in size and arrangement of sails, but in the end, the captain's cabins were nearly always at the stern of the ship, and this ship was no different.

  The commander pulled out a chair and bade me to sit, assisting me into position; it was awkward with my arms still bound. Once I was seated, she released me then moved about the cabin. I looked around.

  It was a typical captain's cabin. There was a desk bolted to one wall and a small table bolted to the floor. I saw what I presumed was a closet. There was a comfortable-looking bed along the stern wall with windows running the width of the cabin. The windows were open. The commander stepped to the foot of the bed and faced the window, pulling on a cord. A heavy curtain lowered into place over the windows, and once she was sure no light would escape, she moved to the lamps in the room, turning them up, but not too brightly. It wouldn't do to destroy everyone's night vision, after all; one never knew when one would be required back on deck.

  Then the commander took another chair from the table, turned it to face me, and sat down, watching me.

  I feigned indifference.

  We sat quietly for some time. If I hadn't remained gagged, it wouldn't be so quiet.

  "The captain likes you," the commander said. "I was sure she would."

  I turned to her and gazed dispassionately at her. The captain wouldn't like me long, assuming they removed the gag. There was one reason I never maintained a relationship: my tongue. Oh no, the captain wouldn't like me at all, not at all.

  I wasn't worried. I was angry and embarrassed, but not at all worried. There were rules, after all. They wouldn't touch me; everyone on board was perfectly safe. Well, we were safe as long as we were ransomed prior to the Fleetwind engaging in cannon fire. But none of us had anything to fear from the captain or her crew. In that way, we were safer here than we might be strolling the streets of Southgate.

  I wasn't worried. I would be ransomed. I hadn't trusted my brother to do it, of course, so years ago I had made my own arrangements. Oh, I would be more than happy to let my brother ransom me. He owed me. The only reason I was in Southgate at all was to help him with a little problem. I should have been far from the coast, far from these types of raids. And I should have been immune from capture, but I wasn't. If I hadn't been a guest of my brother, I would have been immune. My parents had disowned me years ago, after all, and I had no husband responsible for me. But I had been a guest of my brothers, and as his guest and sister, I was a fair hostage.

  The thought made my blood boil.

  Oh, not that I was a fair hostage, but the reason. I wasn't a legitimate hostage for myself, but only for my relationship to a man.

  Of course, I would rather not have been a legitimate hostage at all, and I wouldn't have spoken up when the commander had asked us to step forward, but my niece began crying as she took her step, and I was holding her hand at the time. She hadn't let go, and so I had stepped forward with her. Lord knows my worthless sister-in-law wasn't going to watch over her as a proper mother would have, and so it was left to me.

  And here I was in the captain's cabin while everyone else was taken elsewhere.

  The commander was not a loquacious woman. She sat silently, watching me, still smiling.

  I wondered why she smiled. Was she smiling at having delivered me to her captain, or was she smiling while counting the ransom she would collect. A first mate's portion would be a hefty sum.

  I swallowed, and my throat grew slightly more numb. The mate saw me swallow, and she saw the grimace afterwards.

  "Have you been a hostage before?" she asked.

  I wondered whether I should bother answering. Finally I shook my head "no".

  She raised an eyebrow, and I thought perhaps she didn't believe me. This was all a game, a stupid game. Our navy captures their sons and daughters and wives; their navy captures ours. The lords themselves, the ones who decide to wage war on each other, they are always well insulated, their children and wives safe. The merchantmen and their families are safe. But the merchant sailors, they suffer the most. And women like me, found too close to the coast, the wrong place and time, we suffer.

  Who won? Those who took us, and those who make a profit from those who take us. It was a foolish game, one I would not have chosen to play.

  "If you behave, you won't be hurt," the commander explained. I already knew that. But I swallowed again, and I grimaced.

  "First time with the gag?"

  I nodded.

  "Is your throat numb?"

  I nodded again.

  "It gets worse," she said. "The numbness will continue to spread, slower and slower, but it never stops spreading. We can feed you, of course, and give you water. It wouldn't be an effective gag if you were going to die while wearing it."

  I didn't know that. I thought they would be forced to remove it eventually. They were obligated to see to our needs, after all, regardless of whether we offered parole. I wondered whether she lied. She studied me, and something in my expression must have given my thoughts away.

  "There is a tube," she said. She paused, looking away. "It isn't pleasant." She leaned forward. "It goes through your nose." She gestured towards my face.

  My eyes grew wide. I definitely didn't believe her.

  "I know," she said. "It doesn't seem possible. But I guess if you can breath through your mouth, you can eat and drink through your nose. It's magic. I don't know how it works." She looked away for a moment then looked back into my face. "It isn't pleasant. You'll want to give your parole."

  They weren't obligated to unbind my wrists or my mouth if I didn't give parole. But if I gave parole, I was obligated to behave. I had never been one to behave.

  "We only have four," she said. "Feeding tubes. We've never needed more than two. I don't think we'll need more than one with this batch. But you look stubborn."

  There wasn't an answer to that; she was right.

  The commander smiled and leaned forward. She reached out and touched my throat just below my jaw. I couldn't feel her fingers.

  "You're already numb here," she declared. She raised her other hand to her own throat, and I knew she touched herself where she was touching me. I nodded. She shifted closer, and I knew her fingers moved lower, her left hand touching me, her right caressing her own neck. "Here?" I nodded, and her hand moved lower, and lower, and it wasn't until her fingers reached the cleft of my neck that I felt her touch.

  She withdrew her fingers and sat back. "It keeps going," she said, her hand moving lower. "You'll stop feeling your chest, then your stomach. For me, that took two days, but you're much smaller than I am. Your arms begin to tingle, which can actually be a blessing, as they'll be in agony the way they're b
ound, if we don't release them. It took me a week before my fingers and toes were numb, and when finally I was released, it was three days before I could move again."

  She paused, looking away. "I only refused parole once. I'll never do it again."

  I wondered if she was lying, trying to psych me out. I regretted I didn't know about these things.

  But if she was lying, she was very good at it.

  She turned back to face me. "You're not sure whether you believe me. Turn down parole, and you'll find out. Or maybe one of your fellow captives will, and we'll let the rest of you watch when we prepare her."

  I looked away, wondering if she were trying to be cruel. I thought perhaps this was part of making sure I remained complacent.

  That wouldn't happen.

  After that, we again sat quietly. The ship's motion changed. It had been smooth, but I could tell we were out in the open sea, the ship moving with the swells. I could feel the ship groaning as more sails were raised, and we began moving more quickly through the water.

  "The captain won't be much longer," the commander informed me. "We're far enough from land any mischief you may cause would be futile."

  The commander's prediction was accurate, more or less. It was still some time before the captain appeared, and now all I could think about was how the numbness was slowly spreading. The commander didn't offer any distractions, and I sat awkwardly in the chair, fretting.

  But eventually the cabin door opened. Both the commander and I turned to see the captain standing in the doorway. She paused, studying us both, then stepped in and closed the door. The commander rose to her feet; I remained where I was.

  "Has she behaved?" Captain Westmere asked.

  "Yes, Captain," the commander said. "She says this is her first time. I'm not sure I believe her. But she isn't sure whether she believes me, either."

  "I have housed the other guests," Captain Westmere said. "They all offered parole, beginning with the eldest. They convinced the others." She turned to face me, looking down at me in the chair. "Look at me," she ordered.

  I raised my eyes to study her.

  "Do you wish to discuss your parole?"

  I looked away immediately, staring at the curtains over the stern windows. The captain didn't rush me. Finally I turned back up to her and nodded.

  She smiled.

  "If I remove the gag, will you behave while we discuss your terms?"

  I shrugged. I didn't know what "behave" implied.

  "You don't know if you'll behave?" she asked. "Or do you not know what it implies?"

  That was two questions, and I couldn't pick which one she might want me to answer. I tried to put exasperation into my eyes.

  "You don't know what I mean?" she clarified. I nodded. "It means you will remain seated in that chair while we discuss terms. You will not attempt to bite, spit, or kick." She smiled. "Your sister-in-law assured me you have a tongue on you. I could demand you curb it, but I won't. I will outline the terms of your parole. You will have time for the numbness to recede. If you wish water or wine, I will provide it. You will give me your answer. Do you agree to discuss your parole under these terms?"

  I nodded. The captain immediately stepped forward, her hands reaching for my head. I was tempted to shy away, but I held still. She did something, and I felt the gag loosen immediately. She withdrew it from my mouth, and she was even gentle about it.

  My mouth didn't want to release it. I held on, and the captain spoke soothingly. "Relax if you can." She gently pried my jaw open, and withdrew the offensive leather. Then she closed my jaw for me. I couldn't feel a thing she did.

  She caressed my cheek, and I didn't feel that, either.

  But I glared at her.

  "She's a wee thing," the commander said. "I've never seen the numbing proceed so quickly."

  "How far?" the captain asked. Her hand moved. "Nod when you can feel my fingers."

  Finally I nodded. Her fingers were pressed to my chest, barely an inch or two before it would have been indecent to touch me further. She stepped away. "It may be some time before you will be able to talk," the captain said. "I will explain your situation."

  She turned back to face me. "You are on the Fleetwind, my ship. I have a small fleet. We are not large ships, but we are very fast. None of the ships in your harbor will be as fast as we are, and we saw to it they would be delayed a time before they could chase us. You will not be taken away from us that way. Nod if you understand."

  I nodded.

  "You are my prisoner until your ransom is paid or I choose to deliver you to someone else. Nod if you understand."

  I nodded.

  "I do not intend to remain in Noridan waters while negotiations are underway," she said. "If our prize were smaller, perhaps I would look for other prizes, but we have taken far more than we expected. We will retreat to Candoran waters. Candora is neutral in the current conflict and is expected to remain that way."

  Candora was also a week and a half across the Dentarian Sea. She was telling me I would be held for at least three weeks. I nodded understanding.

  "This is your choice. You may spend your captivity in the brig. Your arms will remain bound. The gag will be replaced. I believe Commander Radha has described how we will feed you. Or you may give parole." She crossed to her desk, opened a drawer, and removed a single piece of paper. She glanced at it quickly before holding it in front of me. "These are the standard terms of parole. You will agree to all of them plus a few others. Read that."

  I looked down at the paper. I had never read one of these before. I read the terms. In brief, I would behave. I would not attempt to escape. I would no cooperate with anyone else who attempted to escape. I would not cooperate with anyone who attempted to spirit me away. I would not attempt to hurt myself or anyone else. I would not interfere with the smooth running of the ship. I would obey the lawful orders of the ship's captain and crew. I would, in short, cooperate with being returned home after a successful ransom. The terms were explicit, and they had been crafted very carefully. I read them through three times and realized something very similar: they offered no wriggle room. If I agreed, I was agreeing to be a model prisoner.

  The terms said nothing about speech or attitude. Which meant they were terms I could keep.

  I turned to the captain and tried to speak. Very little came out.

  "It may take more time," she said gently. "Did you have questions so far?"

  I shook my head.

  "Are you going to argue about these terms?" she asked. I shook my head. "Should we replace the gag and escort you to the brig?" She held the gag in front of me, dangling from a finger. I shook my head firmly.

  "If you agree to these terms," the captain said, "You will be unbound. You will be treated consistent with your station. You will be provided quarters consistent with your station, to the best of our ability on board a cramped ship. I will come back to that. You will have free access to the main deck, the galley, the mess, the quarters of anyone who invites you to visit, and of course, your quarters. You will not have access to the aft quarterdeck, the forecastle, or the holds. Those restrictions may be overridden by order of a ship's officer. Do you understand?"

  I nodded. Again I tried to speak, but again it came out as little more than a croak. I wondered if that was improvement.

  The captain continued. "I understand from your sister-in-law that you are accustomed to remaining busy. Has she lied to me?"

  I shook my head.

  "I understand you are unmarried and your parents have disowned you. Is that also true?" I nodded. "Then in addition to the standard terms, you will also be subject to whatever duties I assign you."

  I stared at her then shook my head. I wasn't going to help her run her ship.

  "Fine," she said immediately. "Hold her still, Commander."

  The captain set the parole terms on the table behind her then took the gag in both her hands. The commander stepped behind me, pressing me firmly into the chair with one hand an
d weaving her fingers in my hair with the other. She pulled my head back rudely, and the captain advanced, intending to gag me again.

  "No!" I managed to say. "Please!"

  The captain stopped, studying me. "Do you agree to my terms?"

  I stared up into her eyes. She wasn't smiling, and I didn't think she was bluffing. We stared into each other's eyes.

  "Perhaps you would like a test of my resolve?" the captain offered, raising an eyebrow. "This is not the first time I have done this, Ms. Karden. Leaving you in the brig solves another problem for me, anyway. Now, do you care to test my resolve?" There was steel in her voice.

  I stared at the gag and knew I didn't want it back in my mouth. "No," I said, and it sounded almost normal. "What duties?"

  "I don't know," she said, stepping back. "But if you find them onerous, we can revisit your position." She gestured, and the commander released my hair, but she kept a hand on my shoulder, holding me pressed to the chair. "Do you care to know the problem the brig solves?"

  I shrugged.

  "I am out of guest quarters," she said. "Your sister-in-law organized everything, and when we were done, there was no place remaining for you. None of our guests has offered to make room for you."

  As I said, I wasn't well-liked, but I would remember the lack of kindness Glora had offered.

  "That bitch," I said quietly.

  "In all fairness, they are all rather crowded. I've already moved my officers into as tight of quarters as is reasonable."

  "And so-" I started to say, but it came out as a cough. The captain waited patiently while I worked my mouth. I tried again. "And so you would put me below with the crew?"

  "If that is your choice," she replied. "Or you may share a bed with whomever offers you a space. You will, however, use a bed and not sleep on deck or in the passageways."

  "You are obligated to offer me space in keeping with my position," I said, the words sounding rough but intelligible. The numbness was receding.