Raven Quest Page 2

  Olive slid her empty tray across the counter. “Was that your Captain Lawler I saw you talking with?”

  “Not my Captain Lawler. Let the devil and the deep blue sea have him.”

  She put her hand on Rory’s arm. “Are you all right?”

  Rory forced a smile. “I will be.”

  “What did he say to you?”

  “’Tis nothing I cannot handle.”

  “You look exhausted. Why don’t you go to bed? Caroline and I can close up tonight.”

  “Not Caroline! She will steal every coin in the box.”

  “I will watch her.” Olive smiled sadly. “Rest. You have closed this place every night for the past two weeks.”

  Rory nodded and climbed the stairs. Aunt Ruth had refused to let the prostitutes come up here. Rory did not share that hypocrisy, but she was glad tonight to have a place where she could be alone.

  She closed her door and tossed her hat on the iron bed. Easing off the bandanna, she shook out her blond hair and let it fall to her waist. She unbuttoned her long shirt and drew it off to reveal the quilted cotton bound across her breasts. She pulled it off, shaking out her chemise. With a smile, she scratched her ribs.

  Sitting at the rickety table next to the bed, she lifted a gold chain over her head. She ignored the broken locket and reached for the goatskin bag tied on it. Loosening the strings, she up-ended it. A dozen coins toppled out. This would help her buy her dreams. Into the bag, she dropped those coins along with the one Captain Lawler had given her earlier. That had been the easiest money she had ever earned.

  She yelped when the sharp edge of the locket scratched her finger. This broken locket was the only thing she had inherited from her mother. Scavengers had stolen everything else.

  “Never lose this,” Cicily, who had been the midwife at Rory’s birth, had said when she gave the locket to Rory just before she died. “Your mother wanted you to have this.”

  Rory dropped the locket between her breasts. Her mother might have lived if she had not been ashamed to give birth to a pirate’s whelp. Such a good woman should not have been a pirate’s mistress. Rory had heard that over and over.

  “She did not have a choice,” Rory argued aloud with her own taunting memories. “He owned her indenture.”

  Her fingers trembled when Captain Lawler burst into her mind. Another pirate! Just like all the others. No, he was not. She tried to silence the thought. Just because his face remained in her mind was no reason to be stupid.

  What was he looking for? He wanted information about some ship that had sailed 25 years ago. Let him look! The sea kept her secrets better than Rory Mullins.

  But tomorrow, she would ask the Blindman to talk with Captain Lawler. One thing she had learned today—Nathan Lawler was not a man to double-cross.

  Two

  Rory balanced on a table as she strained to change the candles in the overhead lanterns. She had to get it done before any customers came in. If she stood silhouetted against the light, someone might see she was not a boy.

  “Having fun?”

  She gasped and looked down at Captain Lawler. “What are you doing here?”

  He held up two fingers. “I said I would be back in two days.” Putting one foot on the bench, he rested his elbow on his knee. “Here I am, Rory.”

  Her heart pounded against her chest. She had never seen eyes so dark and mysterious. Nothing would stop him from getting what he wanted. She must not forget that.

  He held his hands up. “Let me help you down, lad.”

  She scrambled down to the floor. She could not let him touch her. “I prefer doing things myself. I know the danger of letting anyone too close in this town.”

  “And what might that be?”

  With a laugh, she snatched the knife from his belt. She rocked the blade in front of him. “You give your enemies a chance to put an end to you.” Flipping the blade so it stuck in the table, she asked, “Do you want something to drink?”

  He nodded and plucked his knife from the table. “I’ll remember this, Rory.”

  “It probably will be the most important lesson you can learn here.” Going behind the counter, she poured a tankard of beer. She placed the mug on the table, then sat across from him. With the ease of habit, she put her elbows on the table to block her body from view.

  “Have you spoken with the Blindman?” he asked as he blew foam off the beer.

  “The Blindman will talk if you will meet our price.”

  “Our price?”

  “I told you the Blindman is my friend.”

  “A good friend, indeed, to share with you when ’tis his knowledge alone that I seek. What is your price?”

  Rory named an absurd figure. She watched, holding her breath, as he drank. He should have snarled back another figure, much lower, instead of smiling.

  When he put his tankard on the table, he leaned forward. “You seem to think my pockets are lined with gold. I’m not a wealthy man.” His smile broadened. “Not yet. With your cooperation and the Blindman’s information to take me where I must go, I may soon be.”

  By the devil’s breath, he had to be chasing after some sunken treasure. There was no other reason he would be interested in ships that had sailed out of Port Royal a quarter of a century ago. Anything that had been salvageable vanished before the fish picked the crew’s bones clean. And after 25 years … It was impossible!

  He continued, “I shall pay you what you ask, on one condition.”

  “Condition?”

  “We need a cabin boy. Come with us. You will be given a full share of our profits on this voyage.” He extended his hand. “Shake on it, Rory, and the gold you want now and more will be yours. Why stay here?”

  She laughed and stood. “No thank you, Captain Lawler.” She pretended not to see his outstretched hand. The idea of touching his weatherworn skin unsettled her.

  “Then you will not get the money.” He slammed the mug on the table. Beer splashed out.

  “And you will not see the Blindman. My price is firm. When you decide you are willing to pay it, come back.”

  He rounded the table in one smooth motion. “This is not over.”

  “It is.” She pulled her knife.

  “Put that away. I thought we were going to discuss this man to man.”

  “You know my terms.”

  He glowered at her, then a slow smile tilted his lips. She tried to ignore the pulse of something peculiar surging through her, as he folded his arms across his broad chest.

  “I could show you that your little knife would not stop me, but I do not have time to play games with you.”

  “Nor I with you. Will you pay me or no?”

  “I agree to your terms minus the coin I already gave you.”

  She returned her knife under her shirt, not daring to lower her eyes. “Be here tonight at eleven. Bring the gold with you. Once I have it, I shall take you to the Blindman.”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  She laughed. “Of course not. I don’t trust anyone.”

  He watched as she wiped up the beer, then said, “Answer me one thing honestly, Rory.”

  “Why?” She wanted this conversation over and him gone. She feared he would overhear her heart beat more swiftly when his gaze held hers.

  “You owe me that much for my gold. You hate it here, but you will not come with us. Why?”

  Rory picked up the mug. “That is none of your business.”

  He grasped her arm. “What are you trying to hide?”

  She flung the beer at him. It struck his face. As he sputtered, she cried, “Don’t touch me! Not ever again, or you shall never speak with the Blindman.”

  With a curse, he rubbed his eyes. He strode toward the door, then snarled, “Be here tonight waiting for me, or I shall hunt you down and make you wish you had.”

  Captain Lawler entered Yellow Hal’s place exactly as the watch was calling the hour. “I am here. Let’s get this over with.”

  Rory was temp
ted to tell him that she had changed her mind, that the Blindman had changed his mind, anything to keep from going with him. Throwing her cloth on the counter, she whispered, “This way.”

  “Rory?” Olive looked anxiously from Rory to Captain Lawler. “Where are you going?”

  Captain Lawler said, “The boy will be back as soon as he directs me where I wish to go.”

  “I shall be fine.” Rory patted Olive on the arm. “Keep an eye on things until I get back, please.”

  “Please?” Captain Lawler chuckled mirthlessly. “A word I had no idea you knew, boy.”

  Rory paid no attention to his insult as she struggled to ignore how he stood too close to her. Taking a shallow breath, she kept from brushing against him when he held the door open.

  The twisting street was crowded. Rory reached for her knife as a man reeled into them. Captain Lawler’s hand clamped on her wrist. When the man fell drunkenly into the mud, Captain Lawler motioned for her to continue along the street.

  The scent of salt from the sea replaced the reek of Port Royal. Noise vanished into the soft sound of the waves stroking the shore. Dim light filtered from the forts overlooking the city.

  Rory longed to dig her bare toes into the warm sand. She wanted to race into the water, letting the waves lift her out of the drudgery of Port Royal and take her to a distant land.

  “How far is it to the Blindman’s hut?”

  Captain Lawler’s voice shattered her reverie. “I told you I wished to see the gold before I took you there.”

  “I could put this pistol to your head,” he murmured as he drew a gun from beneath his red waistcoat.

  A gun! Knowing she must be bold, she smiled. “You cannot afford to kill me, Captain.” She wiggled her fingers. “And I could not afford to have you pay me at Yellow Hal’s place. I do not want anyone knowing that I have even a pinch of gold. Give me the money now, and I shall take you to the Blindman.”

  “Your friend will tell me whatever I want to know if—” He grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her. Holding the pistol in front of her face, he laughed.

  His breath was warm against her cheek. When her hat slipped toward her left ear, she knew she had to do something quickly. She could not let him discover the truth.

  “You will not find the Blindman without my help,” she whispered.

  “True.” Releasing her, he slipped the gun back beneath his waistcoat. Tossing the small bag to her, he said, “Let’s go.”

  Rory straightened her hat, then emptied the bag into her hand. Carefully, she counted the coins. She grinned as she put all but one coin back into the bag. “Our agreement was what I asked for minus the one coin you already paid me.”

  Nathan smiled with grudging admiration. Too bad the lad was determined to stay ashore. He had a sharp wit, and he was brave. Such a lad would be a good addition to the crew.

  “All right, Rory. Lead the way. I am anxious to meet this Blindman.”

  “The Blindman’s hut is up there.” She pointed through the trees. “He told me to wait here.” Her chin jutted. “Captain Lawler, he is an old man and my friend. Don’t hurt him.”

  Nathan did not doubt the softly spoken threat. Rory would find some way of paying him back if he injured the Blindman.

  Quietly, he said, “You have my vow as captain of the Vengeance that I will not hurt your friend.”

  With a sharp laugh, Rory said, “What good is a pirate’s vow?”

  “I’m not—” He clamped his lips closed, then saw the quick flash of suspicion in those blue eyes and hurried to add, “I’m not used to being questioned, Rory. ’Tis a good thing you do not want to join us.”

  He left the lad sputtering with fury as he climbed through the trees. A small hut was set within the shadows. Knocking on the doorframe that was covered with frayed material, he shoved aside the flap and entered.

  In the dim light from a single candle, he could see the room was crowded with crates, half of them broken. A sextant, a compass, and, surprisingly, a book were stored in the boxes.

  Before him, on a low bench, an elderly man sat. His white whiskers dropped across his bare chest. He wore only a pair of breeches, even more ragged than Rory’s.

  “Come in and sit, son,” the bearded man said.

  Nathan tipped one of the crates over and sat. “Are you the Blindman?”

  “I am. You must be Lawler.” He picked up a clay pipe and puffed on it. “Have you paid Rory as you agreed?”

  “Yes. He made sure.”

  “I suspected that he would.” The old man chuckled.

  “What is so amusing?”

  “Nothing important. Tell me what you want, and I will tell you what it will cost you.”

  Rory and his friend were determined to get all the gold he had left. Then he reminded himself that if they had what he needed, it would be worth any price.

  He kept his voice even. “I want information on the Raven, captained by Stuart Powell. Her last known port was Port Royal.”

  “The Raven?” gasped the old man, and his smile fled. “Why are you looking for a ship that was sent to the bottom by the Spanish 25 years ago? Are you interested in ghosts?”

  “My interest in her is my business. I need to know her destination on that last voyage. Can you help me?”

  “Such information is costly, my friend.”

  “How much?”

  The Blindman drew on his pipe again. “I want Rory taken to Santiago de Cuba.”

  “Why?”

  “That is my business, Lawler.” He smiled again. “I want you to buy passage for Rory on a ship licensed by the king. Until that is arranged, I cannot tell you anything.”

  Rory could not know about this. The lad was vehement about not leaving Port Royal except on his own terms. Not only would Nathan have to find a ship to take the boy, but he would have to bind Rory hand and foot to be sure he was on it when it sailed. His smile returned. That might be the best part of the bargain.

  “I shall see to it on the morrow, Blindman,” he replied. “Rory will be a passenger on the next privateer sailing to Santiago de Cuba, if he can stay out of trouble until then.”

  The old man laughed and slapped his bare thigh. “Do not fret. Rory is honest.”

  Nathan snorted in disbelief.

  “Rory is as honest as anyone in Port Royal. Rory’s family is dead. Things have been rough. That is why I want Rory to have a new start. Now, before you go, tell me what you need to know about the Raven.”

  “Everything. All I know is a riddle that I was given.”

  “A riddle?” The old man leaned forward, rearranging the smoke around his head. “What do you mean?”

  “A man washed ashore in Maryland colony. The man was fevered but spoke of a treasure awaiting the lucky man who could unravel the clues leading to the resting place of the Raven.”

  “So you found a crew to search for the Raven?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me this riddle.

  Nathan hesitated.

  “Look at me, son. Do I look as if I could sail a ship?”

  “Rory—”

  “Yes, Rory might be willing to try to beat you to the Raven, but you have a ship already. How long would it take Rory to get one?”

  The words to the riddle rang through his mind. He had repeated them every night while he had waited for his ship to be made ready, while he had sailed south, while he had searched the Caribbean. He knew the words, but not their meanings:

  Look for the black bird of the dawn.

  The shepherd’s tale will steer you on

  Between the low gods and Spain.

  Seek the coral key if treasure you yearn to gain.

  “I shall keep the exact words to myself,” Nathan said quietly. “You remember the Raven. I do. Others may.”

  The Blindman smiled. “Come back when you have a ship to take Rory away from Jamaica. I will give you the answers you seek.”

  “You know? Tell me now!”

  “Now, Captain Lawler, I
find my mind is confused.”

  Frustration taunted him. Blast this old fool! No, Nathan Lawler was the fool. He had nothing to bargain with. He must play their game.

  With a slow smile, he said, “You, Blindman, dare much to brag of what you know and then withhold it.”

  “Not so true, young man. I know you need both me and Rory to help you.” His laugh rumbled like a storm pounding the shore. “Meet Rory at Yellow Hal’s place when you have made all arrangements for the trip. Only if you are both here will I give you the information.” The Blindman held out his hand in Nathan’s direction: “I trust Rory is waiting outside.”

  “Yes.” What was the old man planning now?

  “Call—” He laughed. “Call the lad in.”

  The Blind man was enjoying Nathan’s frustration far too much. No matter. He soon would be done with old men and cheeky lads. Then the gold would be his to share with his crew. No one would call him a witless dreamer again.

  He pushed aside the flap. Seeing Rory sitting by the waves, he put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Another chuckle came from behind him, but he ignored it as he waved to the boy.

  Rory scowled, then pushed past him. “I am here, Blindman. Did he do anything to—?”

  “Do not worry about me, Rory.” With a laugh, the old man patted the lad on the arm. “No man has gotten the better of me in a deal. I wanted to give you a birthday present.”

  “Birthday?”

  Nathan watched, not sure if the old man was passing some cryptic message along with the battered book, covered in cracked black leather, and a small box with sea shells and other ocean debris decorating the top.

  “I want you to have these for your birthday,” the Blindman said.

  “Thank you.”

  More words Nathan had not expected to hear the boy use. He watched the lad run his fingers over the decorated box. Rory treated the old man with genuine respect.