The Devil's Tide (31 page)

"I took the job gladly," she said, maintaining a confident tone.

He winked knowingly. "With every intention of betraying your master."

She flinched.

He raised a diplomatic hand. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. Bravo, I say. But I can't exactly trust you, can I?"

She hazarded a step closer. "I would think less of you if you did."

"Thank Christ for that," he muttered sarcastically. "A whore's regard is so very important to me."

"Don't pretend you didn't miss me," she said, trailing a finger between her breasts, and continuing downward. "You promised you would."

"You may have ventured across my thoughts once or twice, without warning, and I may have pleasured myself to the memory of your ample tits." He looked away, blinking rapidly. "But I digress."

"A welcome digression," she teased.

He ignored the flirtation. "Captain Dillahunt seems well accommodated." Vane frowned suddenly. "Is the redhead naked under that blanket?"

"Yes," Annabelle sighed.

Lindsay shifted her bare legs so he couldn't see between them and met Vane's leering gaze with an unrelenting stare of her own.

"Who is she?" he asked.

"That's Katherine Lindsay."

He looked at Annabelle in shock. "Truly? Your hold is filled to the brim, it seems."

Annabelle bit her lip as a proud smile fought for purchase.

Vane pointed at the other cage. "And who are they?"

"Hornigold's men," she answered, "captured by Dillahunt before Dillahunt was mutinied against."

"By you?"

"No, by Nathan Adams."

He scratched his head. "And Adams was then mutinied upon by you?"

"Yes."

"This ship's a bloody tragedy," he drawled.

"Anyway, I figured I couldn't trust Hornigold's men, so I left them in there."

"They will find my brig a bit more comfortable, until I decide what to do with them. I do need more workers. Would seem a waste to kill them all, much as I enjoy torture."

"Just keep them separate from Captain Dillahunt," she cautioned.

"You think I'm an idiot?" he snapped, face reddening. "I won't have a potentially valuable hostage murdered in his sleep. Who knows what this man's life is worth to Woodes Rogers?" He squinted. "Who is the long-legged girl?"

The girl lowered her head innocuously.

Annabelle shrugged. "Dillahunt's woman, I think."

"Dillahunt, you dog!" Vane called at him. "She's young enough to be your daughter."

Dillahunt glared back. "I heard you fucked a baby."

Vane's laughter filled the hold. "I've fucked many things, if you believe the gossip. I'm told I once fucked a squid. The logistics are maddening."

"You may yet get the chance," Dillahunt sneered. "If you listen to anything this treacherous cunt tells you, you'll swiftly find yourself at the bottom of the ocean. Do you really think you can trust a crew that has mutinied twice?"

Vane turned to Annabelle. "You know, he has a point there."

She had an easy answer to that. "Kill Ogle and Red Devil. The rest will fall in line." She couldn't bring herself to mention Jenkins, despite his undying loyalty to Teach. She had been meaning to ask Jenkins what debt he owed Teach but hadn't found the right moment.

Vane stroked his chin. "So, those are the shepherds?"

"The rest are sheep," she said. "You might want to do away with Richard and Dick Maynard as well."

He rolled his eyes. "Perhaps a list would set me straight?"

"I'll introduce you."

"No need, I've got it," he sighed, tapping his temple. "I hope they enjoyed their final glimpse of sunlight."

Annabelle giggled. "I'm afraid they were too fretful to enjoy it."

As he looked at her, Vane's eyes glimmered with something that might have been respect. "Rightfully so."

They returned to the dock, while the crew of
Crusader
watched anxiously from the main deck. Annabelle assured them everything was going to be fine. Ogle looked particularly twitchy, which filled Annabelle with immense satisfaction. She winked at him before descending the ramp, and his eyes widened.

Vane called for his quartermaster. Jack Rackham was a tall man with an athletic build. He had a handsome, sleek face and long blonde hair that was pulled into a ponytail. He was in his late thirties and dressed all in calico, which had earned him the nickname "Calico Jack." A large gold earring drooped from one of his ears, and he wore a big black tricorn hat with a bright red feather.

"Transfer the prisoners in the hold to our brig," Vane instructed Calico Jack. "Keep Dillahunt and his woman separate from the others. The rest of the crew are free to wander, but keep them from our treasure room. Also, find
special
quarters for four of them going by names of Ogle, Red Devil, Dick Maynard and Richard Maynard. Got that?"

Calico Jack nodded conspiratorially. "Aye, captain."

Before the quartermaster could spring into action, Vane grabbed him by the arm. "Oh, and bring the redheaded woman to my quarters, along with a chest full of women's garments. I'm sure we've stolen plenty of those. And have Harry's boy draw her a bath."

Annabelle's chest swelled with a murderous fury. She stomped toward Vane without thinking. "Captain!"

Vane smirked at her. "Yes?"

Annabelle halted, grinding her fingernails into her hips. "Nothing."

"Alright," he replied with a raised eyebrow. He moved past Calico Jack. "I'll be in my quarters."

She hurried after. "Shall I join you as well?"

"No," he grunted without looking back. "I'll send for you when I'm ready. We have an extensive kitchen. I suggest you pay it a visit while you wait."

As Vane rushed off, Annabelle felt the voracious eyes of Pirate Town's seedy occupants creeping over her body, while the mounting doubt of
Crusader's
crew weighed heavily upon her back. She clutched her fluttering stomach, resisting the urge to vomit on the dock in front of everyone.

I should have killed that bitch when I had the chance.

Calloway and Dillahunt were the last to be escorted out of the hold. Hornigold's men were taken first, secured together with chains lined through their shackles. A tall blonde man in calico took Kate Lindsay next. Kate glanced uncertainly at Calloway on her way out. Calloway offered a meager smile, secretly hoping this was not the last time she would see her. Though Calloway would never admit it to her face, Lindsay was a fascinating woman. Over the last few days, Kate had recounted the past year of her life. The tale made incarceration far less tedious.

Two big, shirtless men appeared, their bulky chests shimmering with sweat. One had thinning locks of stringy blonde hair, and the other had a shaved head. The bald one took Calloway by the arm and led her out of the cell while the blonde man snatched Dillahunt to his feet and shackled his wrists. Calloway's numb legs nearly buckled a few times as she was ushered toward the stairs. The journey up the steps was surprisingly difficult. She realized she hadn't walked more than two paces in weeks. The bald man nudged her every time she slowed, and she shot angry looks at him, but that didn't slow him. He gave her arm a sharp squeeze and said, "Move!"

When she emerged on the main deck, Calloway's breath caught in her throat. As she gaped at the flickering hollows in the canyon wall, she felt tiny, like a fly trapped in a giant beehive. She'd never seen anything like it.

Dillahunt looked like he was going to be sick. "The walkways are tragically misaligned," he gasped, eyes wide behind the slits of his white mask.

"Where are we?" Calloway wondered aloud, staring at the darkening slice of sky between the canyon walls far above.

"Move!" the bald man barked again, pounding her back so hard with his fist that her breath burst from her mouth like a popping balloon.

"Go easy with her, man!" Dillahunt demanded. "Have you never handled a woman before?"

The bald man swiveled his head and snarled like an animal, with a string of white spittle dangling from his lower lip.

Dillahunt withdrew in horror, muttering to himself. "Somewhere a mutt is prancing about with a man's brain, carrying on civilized conversation."

The man with stringy hair laughed. "That's why we call him 'Mongrel.' He don't talk so good."

"Neither do you," Dillahunt quipped, "but it doesn't seem to stop you."

"You're lucky Captain Vane wants you kept alive, funny man. Still, wouldn't be my fault if you slipped and took a little dive into the water, would it?"

"I disagree," Dillahunt said, fervently shaking his head. "You'd do better to drop one of those chests into the water. I'm worth twice as much."

"Is that so?" the stringy-haired man balked. He nodded at Calloway. "And what's she worth?"

Dillahunt paused to consider. "Priceless."

For the first time in weeks, Calloway grinned. The muscles in her cheeks were nearly as unwieldy as her legs, twitching uncertainly.

Most of
Crusader's
crew were on the dock now, conversing with their new mates, although Calloway thought the overall mood was a bit tense. The smiles and laughter on both sides seemed false.

Dillahunt and Calloway were taken past the dock, skirting a thin wooden walkway suspended just above the impenetrable black water. They plunged into one of the smaller caves, which led to a dim tunnel. Every twenty paces or so, the rocky walls were lit with gothic iron sconces bearing large candles. Thick beads of orange wax dripped between wickedly sharp prongs. The shadows of each prong danced across the tunnel walls in the wavering flame.

The snakelike passage was narrow, and they were forced to duck in several spots. Calloway couldn't be sure if the passage was manmade or carved out by water.

"What do you think they've done with Kate?" Calloway asked Dillahunt.

"I haven't a clue," he said. "You miss her already?"

"I only hope she's alright."

"That woman can take care of herself."

The stringy-haired man giggled. "Captain Vane will take good care of her."

They encountered three forks in the passage, splitting off into separate tunnels. They took a left on the first fork, a right on the second, and another right on the third. Calloway silently mouthed, "Left, right, right" repeatedly, committing the path to memory.

The tunnel sloped steeply upward, and it wasn't long before Calloway's unused legs started to ache. Her bare feet had difficulty finding purchase on the worn ground, which was far smoother than the rocky walls. Apparently this passage was heavily traversed. She inevitably began to slow down, until she was nudged forward by Mongrel. "Move!"

"Is that all you know how to say?" she asked in annoyance.

"Move!" he answered.

"Right," she grated warily.

A hundred agonizing paces later, the tunnel leveled off and opened upon a long cavern that stretched away from the tunnel they had just exited. Stalactites drooped from the arched ceiling. Four torches decorated the wall on her left, flaring brightly. The right side was sectioned off by thick rusty bars that reached from floor to ceiling, penetrating the rock. Hornigold's nine survivors were locked behind the bars, appraising their larger cell with satisfied nods. They even had bench and a long table, topped with dice and playing cards.

"Care to join us, Captain Dillahunt?" said Andrew Harrow cheerfully.

"We've got plenty of space," said Francois Laurent.

"This is much better," said Bastion.

Dillahunt smirked. "I'd rather not, gentlemen. I'm afraid I cannot endure a knife in my belly."

"Aww, come now, captain," Harrow protested. "We would never!"

The stringy-haired man rattled Dillahunt's chain. "Don't worry, captain. Vane don't want you nowhere near the riffraff, seeing as your balls are made o' solid gold."

Laurent looked at Harrow. "I hadn't heard that."

Calloway and Dillahunt were led past Hornigold's men. At the end of the long cavern there was a smaller, dimly lit hollow, enclosed with bars. "Our cell isn't much of an improvement from the last," Calloway drawled.

"Don't worry, lassie," the stringy-haired man said. "You'll be staying with me."

Before the words could register, Dillahunt twisted free of the stringy-haired man's grasp and spun behind him in a single motion, reaching over his head and pulling the chains tight around his neck. The man's stunned face quickly turned a sickening shade of purple as Dillahunt drew him back.

Mongrel tossed Calloway aside and drew his cutlass, charging toward Dillahunt. Calloway hit the ground hard, but she managed to stick out a leg and catch Mongrel's toes. His momentum carried him through the air, until he crashed against the ground face-first, sword clanging noisily.

The stringy-haired man reached for Mongrel, fingers working like a dying spider's legs. Dillahunt jerked the chain harder into his captive's neck, dragging him away. The stringy-haired man's tongue jutted from his mouth, and his eyes puzzled with bloody veins. "Anyone know this man's name?" Dillahunt yelled to Hornigold's men.

Fat Farley shrugged. "We just call him Rotter."

"That'll do," Dillahunt replied with a firm nod. "Now listen to me, Rotter. I'll strike a bargain with you, right here. It's quite simple. The girl stays with me, and you don't strangle. Nod if you can understand me."

Rotter gurgled something unintelligible.

"What was that?" Dillahunt demanded. "I said nod if you understand."

Rotter nodded frantically.

Mongrel was just getting to his feet. Blood oozed from his nose, collecting in a little puddle beneath him. He retrieved his cutlass and raised it threateningly.

"Stay back, mutt," Dillahunt urged, "or your friend's neck will—"

A grotesque
snap
echoed throughout the cavern. Rotter's head slacked over the chain, tongue hanging from his yawning mouth like a bloated slug. A long and pitiful fart sounded as the contents of his bowels darkened his pants.

Dillahunt frowned. "Shit."

Hornigold's men tittered with joy as they crowded against the bars of their cell. "That's gonna stink something awful in a minute," Harrow said.