A Captain and a Rogue. Liz Tyner
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sister. He would be angry to see it in the harbour. She would have to talk to him, otherwise the captain would be in danger. Even if the captain worked all night getting the stones, Stephanos would gather the men of the island and attack before the ship could sail. She would have to speak with Stephanos very soon—before the captain lingered on the island digging in the earth.
Thessa opened the door and moved to the top of the stairway. The older man stood away from the house, his eyes on the landscape, but the captain waited for her. When the captain stepped aside so she could descend, she noted the width of his shoulders and the firm line of his lips. He looked no happier to be on the island than her father had been the last time—no man should disdain the island so. But she did want to help her sister and the captain had no knowledge of what could happen to him on the island.
‘You should take care.’ She studied the paths. ‘Do you have weapons on your ship?’
He didn’t answer and took his time turning back to her. His voice was soft. ‘Whatever would I need weapons for?’ He stood as still as the fallen columns at the top of the island.
She let the wind ruffle her hair before she answered, ‘Sea serpents.’
‘Ah, yes.’ His lips turned up the barest amount. ‘Sea serpents. I’ve dealt with them.’
‘They have deadly teeth.’
‘Mine are just as sharp.’ His chuckle both warmed and chilled her at the same time.
To men spilling blood hardly seemed to matter. But she hated the quick death. The suddenness where light went to dark.
Her mother’s brother had been celebrating the birth of a child and everyone had been merry. But someone had said something about the child not favouring the father and, before she even realised anyone was truly angry, a knife had slashed through her uncle’s belly. Everything had changed in less time than it took to scream. Her uncle bled to death almost before her aunt could kneel beside him.
She had learned how a world could be wiped away with a moment that happened in the space of a few heartbeats.
Even when Thessa’s sister left, this sea captain did not know how carefully Thessa had chosen her words to Stephanos. She had pretended her sister had said she was visiting their aunt and that it had been days before they realised she’d left the island. She’d even begged Stephanos not to search out the ship, flattering him and hinting that her sister was marred—in case Melina returned. Thessa didn’t think the Greek could have found the ship in the vast seas, but she’d not wanted him to try.
Melina had been trying to provide for them all and Thessa knew her elder sister had wanted to search out their father. Melina couldn’t have survived marriage to the Greek, but she insisted Thessa not go near him. Melina believed in art and beauty. Thessa wished every painting on the earth destroyed. They only caused grief.
If she thought and spoke carefully, she hoped to put off marriage to Stephanos long enough for him to notice someone else.
She became aware of the captain examining her face. Straightening her sash, she said, ‘I wanted to be certain you take care. One bite from a sea serpent and a man can sleep for ever.’
‘I realise life can be deadly.’ He looked at her and had the look of secret humour in his upturned lips, but his eyes had blandness behind them, as if he wouldn’t even let himself look back at his own memories. ‘Creatures of the sea...or land...they are nothing compared to the storms the heavens can send and I don’t fear them either. If I wished for a different life, I would be with my second brother, watching flowers grow while I sipped wine and swirled it on my tongue, wearing unscuffed Hoby boots. I take your words carefully, but they are not necessary.’
‘Don’t try to outlive your welcome.’ Thessa’s voice lowered to a whisper. She needed to be careful of what she said. Voices could carry on the wind, or the sailor with the captain could be a fool who spoke to the wrong person.
The captain moved close. ‘I’ve outlived my welcome before.’ His words were soft, but she didn’t think he tried to hide them from someone, only that he wanted to convince her of the truth of what he said. ‘No fables of mermaids or serpents will change one furling of the sails on my ship or cause me to change one step of my well-travelled boots.’
She glanced at his boots. They were marred with lighter worn spots and darkened places on the leather. ‘Are those bloodstains?’
He didn’t answer and yet he did—with that same blank look.
‘Then I will not be concerned for you,’ she said.
He turned away. ‘Waste of your time.’
* * *
Benjamin had to put some distance between him and Thessa. She’d had care for him in her gaze. He didn’t like that.
He wished he’d never seen her swimming. Just because she’d been so at home in the water, his thoughts had lodged on her more strongly than they should have.
Thessa didn’t have the flowery scent of the few women he’d danced with at soirées in Warrington’s home, nor did she have the sometimes jarring perfume of the tavern wenches he’d enjoyed. She smelled of warmth and a different kind of soap than he was used to. Something which seemed exotic to him, perhaps a blend from island herbs or plants he didn’t know of.
The first hues of the sunset fell on her face. She wore the new shawl and her hair was pinned, but still, she didn’t look like any woman he remembered. Just like when she swam.
‘We should search out the stone in the morning,’ she said.
‘No. Absolutely not. I may not fear a sea serpent on the island, but I don’t wish to stir up any nests of them.’
‘You would listen to me and wait if you knew what was good for you.’
‘Really, Mermaid? Tell me more.’
Thessa shrugged his words away and moved past him, walking inside the bottom part of the structure and returning with a crude wooden spade. ‘It’s your neck.’ She moved away from them.
Tendrils of hair bobbed freely at the back of her collar, drawing his gaze to her skin.
‘Stay here, near the woods, Gid,’ Ben said, turning to Gidley. ‘Watch the path. If someone is approaching, then catch up with me and let me know.’
‘Right, Capt’n,’ Gidley said, and as Thessa moved away, Gidley mouthed the word smile and pointed to his own uneven teeth.
Ben did the opposite, then travelled along the white-sand pathway edged by stones removed from the trail possibly a thousand years before. Clusters of spindly vegetation dotted among the white stones, like rounded-over bonnets. Only a few scattered bits of green interrupted the burnt red and brown plants dried by salted wind.
The beauty contrasted the island’s harshness. He knew from the last trip that black glass-like shards could be found in places on the island, probably left from a centuries-old volcanic eruption.
His men had told him of the catacombs they’d found and his own eyes had amazed at the sharp white cliffs sticking from the sea, their bold colors contrasting against the blue water. One rock jutted from the sea, its top shaped like the scowl of a raging bear. If he sailed deeper into the islands around, the rocks could be like stone fingers reaching to rip the Ascalon’s hull.
As they walked the paths, the trees filtered what was left of the sunlight. But nothing softened the edges of the rock. Staring at the land around, he almost missed seeing Thessa step forward to move an olive branch aside. When it slapped back, he dodged and it grazed his cheek.
This could never be his home and he marvelled that Thessa seemed so enamoured of it. Except, she did have her sea to swim in—her own endless sea.
In one stride he’d caught up with her and walked at her elbow on the narrow path. He thought of Gid’s advice. Smiling couldn’t help if a woman kept her eyes averted from him.
Ben