Uncharted, p.10
Uncharted, page 10
“That’s not necessary.” It was hopeless, but I had to try one last time.
“It absolutely is. You should have a whole army of maids to attend you, not just me. But since I am what you have, you aren’t going anywhere without me.”
As I followed Rosie down the hall, her last words rang in my head. A whole army of maids. That was how it was supposed to be, wasn’t it? All I had was her. Was keeping me isolated and friendless part of Beverly’s plan? With fewer maids, there would be fewer people who would notice if something was wrong and offer opinions as the prince manipulated me into whatever scheme he dreamed of next.
What if Rosie was a spy after all? Not with Niall, but a spy for the prince? Her kindness could be a façade; our encounter in front of the dressmaker’s a matter of chance. She might have been placed to feed information on my behavior and any uncomfortable questions I might ask the prince.
I couldn’t think like that. If I believed that even Rosie was against me, I’d lose all hope.
Beverly and Crawford were nearly out the door as we finally arrived.
“Wait!” I hurried past Rosie. The men paused.
“George.” The prince smiled, and his gentle surprise was almost worse than if he’d shown me the face of his true plan. “I was told you were unwell.”
“I’m fine.” My smile was so tense, my face felt like it might crack. “Nothing a little fresh air and sunshine won’t resolve.”
“And the aroma of the wharf?” He ran his hands down my shoulders. I forced myself not to shrink back. I could do this. The long game. I would find a way to survive and ultimately to escape. My note to Niall was gone, but I could write another one. Even princesses must need to have something printed from time to time. I would find a way to contact him that didn’t risk Rosie and the dressmaker along the way.
“Nothing better.” I glanced over my shoulder, toward where Rosie hung back. “My maid will attend me.”
Beverly scowled, but whatever he saw in Rosie gave him no pause because he took my elbow and walked me out the door.
“It’s just as well that she comes too,” he said. “I hate to leave you alone, but I’d much rather ride. Fresh air and sunshine, as you said.”
My nerves fluttered, but I focused on walking in a straight line. A carriage was brought around. The footman held the door open, and I didn’t flinch as Beverly took my hand and helped me up.
When the door closed firmly again with Rosie and me stowed safely inside, I exhaled.
Rosie clucked. “You should be in bed.”
I leaned out the window, watching as the palace gates rolled by. At this moment in time, it was better to be anywhere but in the palace.
I’d never been betrayed before. I’d been abused, forgotten, left behind, and abandoned, but never outright lied to. Not when it mattered—except for the day Lou had promised to come back and then never had, but that was incomparable.
The scene at the harbor was much the same as it had been the day before. Guards at the main gate let us through while women and children pressed themselves against the bars.
The problem with realizing you’d been betrayed was that it made you question everything else. Had all of it been a lie? Had the prince sent anyone to open the grain stores? Were the people at the gate even who he said they were? What if they’d been planted there to gain my sympathy? What if the entire scene with the boy the day before had been staged? There had never been any risk to him, and, like a fool, I’d waded into the fray and played right into his hands.
The carriage door swung open, and he was there again, smile sparkling in the bright sun.
He held out his hand. “I told you I had a surprise for you,” he said as he led me across the courtyard. I expected to go into the building, but instead, he brought me to the center, where the cobblestones met in something that looked like a compass star. A number of gray-haired men in severe uniforms and standing upright had formed a line, and they bowed as we approached. My heart thundered. They must have been there for a completely innocuous reason, but to me, they looked like a firing line.
“My Lady Georgina,” Beverly said grandly. “May I present to you the admirals of the Redmerian Navy.”
More bowing. I sweated nervously as I inclined my head at each. The prince said these were good men after a fashion, who were insisting on looking for survivors from the ships that had been lost. They had influence. Maybe I could ally myself with—
“I have an announcement,” the prince said before dipping his lips to my ear so that only I could hear what he said next. “I think you’ll be very pleased with me, George.”
I was not. I would never be.
I smiled at him as if he hung the sun. It must have satisfied him, because he lifted a hand and called to the guards they’d passed.
“Open the gate!”
After a brief hesitation, the gates were pulled open with a great groan of metal. For a second, silence filled the courtyard. The women and children stared, wide-eyed, and stayed where they were.
“Go to them.” Beverly nudged me forward. “Invite them in.”
Like the guards, I hesitated, but couldn’t see how his request was anything other than what it seemed. I glanced at Rosie, who stood near the carriage. Her face was bland as she stared at something out on the water.
I didn’t see the boy from the day before or his mother, but the faces of the people gathered were the same. Hungry. Frightened. Mistrustful.
If I couldn’t save myself, what hope did I have of helping these people?
I couldn’t stop the wobble in my voice as I said, “The prince would like to speak with you. All of you. Please. Come in.”
My stomach knotted. These people needed me, which was what the prince had counted on. He would prey on my isolation and sympathy to turn me into a figurehead while he worked behind me to destroy livelihoods and grow his own power.
I wouldn’t let him. I didn’t know how yet, but I wouldn’t.
I didn’t get the chance.
A flash to my left caught my attention, but I didn’t even hear the boom before an invisible hand caught me squarely about the waist and pulled me off my feet, hurling me to the stones.
Or, rather than a hand, the force of the blast as the stone wall of the naval yard was blown in with a deafening explosion.
Rocks and chaos filled the space. Children screamed and men shouted. My chin connected with someone’s boot, and I tasted blood in my mouth. My ears rang, and no matter which way I positioned myself, I couldn’t find up.
Soldiers ran in every direction. The world was a cloud of dust, and smoke billowed through the gaping hole that had once been a wall.
The prince was across the courtyard, shouting at someone. He seemed completely unconcerned with the welfare of his bride-to-be. If I ran now, I could disappear before anyone noticed.
Rough hands grabbed me, hauling me to my feet. My veil snagged on something and pulled free, ripping out what felt like whole clumps of hair. But I had no time to dwell on that because strong arms dragged me toward the opening in the wall.
No. No, no. That was the wrong way. That way led to the wharf. I needed to get into the city, where I knew the streets and the places to hide. If I could make it to the print shop, Niall would help me, and I would do my best to get away before Beverly’s men came for us and put Niall and everyone else he knew at risk.
But I was going the wrong way!
I kicked and struggled, digging my nails into the arms that held me tight.
“No need for that,” a man’s deep voice said in my ear, gritty as if he’d been shouting. He sounded amused, and it only made me struggle more.
Another man I couldn’t see laughed and said, “The princess is a fighter!” in a deep accent I didn’t recognize.
“Let go of me!” My words were shrill as I put all my weight into escaping. We were nearly to the wall. Behind us, shots rang out, and I shouted, even though a mountain of a man was between me and whoever was shooting. I tried to turn to see my captor’s face, to look over his shoulder to see if the prince had noticed what was happening to me. Whether it was a better fate to hope he rescued me or to take my chances with these men was unclear.
Another shot echoed over the courtyard, and the man holding me grunted. I squeaked as he tripped. If he fell carrying me like this, I’d be crushed. When he stumbled again, I struggled, desperately trying to get free before he fell.
A new hand grabbed for me, and I was pulled from the iron arms as he toppled forward. I still had no chance to escape, because the man who had me now was running, pulling me along so fast that I would also fall if I tried to slow long enough to fight him off.
“Let me go!”
This new man’s head was covered in a black cowl, and he didn’t turn back as he moved toward the docks. My corset dug into my ribs and hips, making it hard to breathe. I beat at the man’s hand on my arm, but the cloak Rosie dressed me in was voluminous, and each of my blows was hampered as bunches of fabric were caught between my fist and his hand.
Rosie.
What had happened to Rosie? She’d been farther from the blast than I’d been, but in everything that had happened, what had become of her?
“Stop!” We were beyond the wall and into the bustling harbor, where everything was also chaos. Men rushed in the direction from which we’d just come. None of them seemed at all concerned about the man in the cloak abducting a princess.
I had to get back and find out what had happened to Rosie.
We passed a long table with a dozen fish on it abandoned in the excitement, some half-gutted and others staring lifelessly at the sky. One still had a knife embedded in its fishy host, and I reached desperately, catching it by its handle. I nearly lost it, slippery as it was, but I gritted my teeth, tightening my fingers around the hilt.
I slashed out desperately. He cursed, and I was surprised at the line of red that welled up on the back of the hand still tight around my wrist. I cried out as I slashed again, this time catching his forearm where his cloak had been pulled up.
“For God’s sake, George, stop!” He turned to me, and the brief glimpse of his face—the long nose, the flash of his glasses under the hood—stopped my heart. I gaped, tripped, and nearly stabbed myself with the fish knife as I fell, instead catching my cheek against the hard edge of the wooden table.
Niall was on me in a second, but I couldn’t have run away even if I’d tried.
Niall.
I went to speak, but all that came out were small, whimpering gasps.
His thumb wiped at my cheek. The pain mixed with relief at the sight of him, bringing tears to my eyes.
“Niall?” I wheezed.
“Yes. Silly girl. Did you think I’d abandon you?”
I didn’t have the air to cry, but I wished I did.
“We have to go,” he said. “They’re waiting.”
We were up again, but this time, I ran with him. His hand was on my elbow, guiding me through the people. The gesture was so like what the prince had done over the last few days, but where Beverly’s hand on my arm had been about control, Niall’s was only about support.
Shots sounded behind us, spurring us on. The crowd was thinning.
At the end of the wharf, a ship loomed.
“Almost there,” Niall said.
Two men were running toward us. I couldn’t see them clearly, but their clothes weren’t from Redmere. Their pants billowed, and one wore a hat with a bright red feather that waved as they hurried toward us.
Another shot echoed over the water.
For the second time in the span of minutes, I was knocked to the ground.
The vibration of footsteps on the wooden boards of the pier rattled through my chest. I tried to push myself up, but Niall had flattened himself against me.
“Niall,” I hissed. “The soldiers are coming.”
He groaned and planted a hand to the left of my head. His hand and the cuff of his shirt were soaked in blood.
Heavy leather boots appeared in my line of sight, and Niall’s weight was pulled off me.
“Take her,” he gasped, and I was unceremoniously heaved over one man’s shoulder. The other brought Niall to his feet. His cloak was open, and the front of his shirt was covered in red.
“Niall!” I called, but the man who carried me was running down the end of the pier toward the ship.
The man carrying Niall struggled. They were mismatched, and Niall’s rescuer was too short for the task. Behind them, the soldiers closed in.
“Niall!”
A soldier brought up his gun, aimed, and fired. Niall and the other man collapsed. Which of them had been shot was unclear, and it didn’t matter, because the soldiers were on them both a moment later.
I closed my eyes. This wasn’t right. I’d needed an escape, but not at the expense of Niall’s life.
There were more hands, grabbing, pulling. My clothes—the heavy cloak, the corset—weighed a hundred pounds, dragging me down even as I was lifted up the rope ladder on the side of the ship.
Salt—from my tears or something else, I didn’t know—stung my cheek where I’d cut it. Wood groaned, and bullets flew overhead, and all I could do was crouch and tremble. I went to wipe my face with my sleeve, but instead could only stare at the streaks of red smeared over my clothes. Blood. My blood, Niall’s blood. I didn’t know. It didn’t matter.
A hand on my shoulder pulled me along the deck. I nearly bit it. I was so tired of being manhandled, of being shoved around, and of being directed for someone else’s agenda.
Rosie’s face swam into view, and for a second, I only felt cool relief. Then, another face joined her. A woman with brown hair and cool eyes. Her scowl was fierce, but held a sadness I recognized.
Lou. Beautiful Lou.
Dead Lou, who had left me behind even when she promised she would come back for me. Maybe she finally had?
So I must be dead as well.
At this point, that was fine.
PART II
THE PIRATE
8
Unsurprisingly, the accommodations of the bowels of a ship were about as pleasant as the bowels of anything. The small, barred cell where I’d been taken was rank with mold, dead fish, and unwashed bodies. Despite the tranquil picture a ship moored in the harbor painted, the interior of a ship making its escape from the same harbor was a noisy place full of creaks and groans, of boards grinding together, and the occasional squeak from a rat that couldn’t be seen in the suffocating gloom.
With nothing else to do, I fumbled my way out of my cloak, finding the ties in the dark and loosening them so I could breathe. I had no way to remove my corset with the dress Rosie had laced me into that morning.
To think, only a few hours ago, my greatest worry was that my fiancé might murder me at some point in the future. The immediacy of being kidnapped from under his nose suddenly muted the shock I’d felt in the library that morning.
Somewhere in the dark, a foot scuffed on a board, followed by a soft curse.
“Hello?” I asked.
“George?”
I straightened. “Rosie?”
“Where are you?” Rosie’s voice was clearer now, closer.
“I’m here.” I groped forward blindly. I’d been in this place for what felt like hours, but my eyes had barely found any light to adjust. I winced as my hand landed in a puddle of something cold, but then my fingers brushed against the bars of the cell. Shortly after, a warm hand closed over mine.
“Oh, I found you.” The relief in her voice was as warm as her skin. “Are you all right?”
“So much better now that I can hear a friendly voice. How did you get here?”
Rosie snorted gently. “I wasn’t going to let them take you without me. I saw the tall one pulling you along the dock, and I knew what they were trying to do, even though you were putting up a good fight. No one ever notices servants anyway, so it didn’t take much to climb aboard in all the confusion, and I’m very good at making myself unobtrusive when I want to.”
I laughed, grateful for the release of nervous energy. I tightened my grip on the bars. “What happens next?”
“There don’t seem to be very many of them. No more than thirty or forty. If I can find a way to unlock your cell, we might be able to escape.”
Forty pirates. “You’re not suggesting we fight our way out, are you?”
“No. But if we stay close to shore, we could jump once it’s dark and swim for it.”
“Swim?”
“Can’t you swim?”
I sighed. “Not well, and certainly not in the dark.”
“You float the same whether the sun’s out or not.”
We stayed like that for a long time. The damp encroached, worming its way into my flesh. I wrapped my cloak around me to fight the chill. The gentle tremors in Rosie’s hand said she felt it too, but with the bars between us, we could only huddle against the cold metal, searching for places where we might touch and warm each other.
We dozed. We talked. The cold ate into my bones. My eyelids grew heavier.
A voice hummed tunelessly far away. A flickering light followed. It could only be a lantern, but after hours of inky black, it might as well have been a bonfire. My hand was cramped around the cell bar, and Rosie’s must have been as well, because she didn’t let go of me, only sluggishly pushing herself closer to the metal and farther from the approaching light. We had nowhere to go, and the owner of the lantern was definitely coming for us.
He was tall, big enough that only his chest was illuminated by the lantern in his hand. He had to hunch not to hit his head on the low-slung timbers, but he moved with a confidence that said he knew how to navigate the space. He loomed over us, holding the lantern higher. Wild shadows careened off the walls, making his eyes look like sunken pits.
He grinned. “I was told we had a princess. I didn’t know there would be two of you.”
