The Pirate Prince (2 page)

Chapter One

Two Years Later—Somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea

His legs balanced against the motion of the ship, Prince Dariq stood on the deck of his frigate, renamed the
Revenge
after his escape from Istanbul, staring at the endless blue sea stretched out before him. Mustafa, his right-hand man and first mate, stood at his side.

The weather was perfect; a brisk breeze filled the sails, sending the
Revenge
scudding across the water. The frigate extended two decks high and was well equipped with forty cannon, employed for a good cause.

The ship rode high in the water, hunting prey and riches to fill her hold. Turkish ships were particularly vulnerable to Dariq’s Brotherhood of pirates.

Though Dariq had fled Istanbul to escape certain death, he had managed to slip in and out of the city several times during the past two years to contact friends loyal to him. He had risked his life more than once to inquire about his mother’s welfare and to learn what Ibrahim was up to, but he had also used his clandestine
trips into Istanbul to bring his men’s loved ones out of the city to their stronghold on the island of Lipsi, forty miles off the southern coast of Turkey.

“Perhaps the
Ottoman
never left Algiers,” Mustafa suggested. “We have seen no sign of the ship since learning that a treasure of great value was being transported to Istanbul aboard it. Perhaps your information was false.”

“Nay,” Dariq said. “Kamel has never given his cousin Hassan wrong information. The ship will follow the same course as all Ibrahim’s ships sailing from Algeria. We will find it, and when we do, we will steal Ibrahim’s treasure.” He thrust his fist in the air to emphasize his words. “By Allah, Ibrahim will not have it!”

Dariq’s nostrils flared. He looked like a demon bent on mayhem. Thick black hair, tousled into curls by the damp sea air, fell over his forehead. His jutting jaw was strong and dark with the beginning of a beard, and every visible muscle in his face and neck was pulled taut. His tense body and well-developed form were hardened by hard labor. Nothing about Prince Dariq looked soft.

Dariq wasn’t the same man he had been two years before. The murder of his brothers had turned him into a vengeful man with dark depths, a man on a mission to avenge those cruel deaths. A man who refused to rest until his innocent brothers had been avenged and Ibrahim made to suffer.

“Hassan said the treasure Ibrahim expects is extremely valuable,” Mustafa mused.

Dariq nodded. “Valuable enough, I hope, for its loss to annoy Ibrahim. Unfortunately, Hassan could tell me nothing more about the treasure, for Kamel hadn’t enlightened him. I had to leave the city before receiving detailed information from Kamel; there were janizaries everywhere. Hassan said that Ibrahim is aware that I enter
the city incognito and wants to put an end to it.” He laughed—a bitter sound that held a world of hatred. “Ibrahim fears me, and with good reason.”

“The men are eager for a good fight, Prince,” Mustafa said, gesturing to the motley crew of pirates who had followed Dariq from Istanbul into the Brotherhood.

“So am I,” Dariq replied. “We fight now to survive, to rob Ibrahim of his riches, and to protect our loved ones.”

“They would gladly die for you, Prince. You brought their wives and families to Lipsi and created a safe haven for them.”

“They followed me into exile when all seemed lost,” Dariq replied. “ ’Twas the least I could do.”

Dariq tensed as an expression of watchful anticipation slid over his handsome features. “Hand me the glass, Mustafa.”

Mustafa placed the spyglass in Dariq’s hand. Dariq held it to his eye, adjusting it until an object came into view.

“There she is!” Dariq shouted gleefully. “The
Ottoman
. Bring the
Revenge
about, Mustafa. We will lay in wait for her.”

Mustafa took the wheel and brought the ship about. After a shouted order from Dariq, the deck erupted with activity. As the
Ottoman
approached, the
Revenge’s
guns were being primed and readied for battle and weapons distributed to eager pirates.

“She’s using evasive action,” Dariq bit out. “She’ll never outrun us. Pile on the canvas!”

Wind whipped into the sails, sending the
Revenge
crashing through the waves at top speed. It didn’t take long for the ship to overtake the slower, clumsier
Ottoman
.

Once they were in range, Dariq shouted, “Bring her about and fire a warning shot across the
Ottoman’s
bow!”

Dariq’s crewmen responded smoothly, having made
similar attacks many times in the past two years. Piracy was their game and they played it well.

The first volley of shots sailed over the
Ottoman’s
bow, but she didn’t stop. She tacked to the left, but it soon became apparent that she couldn’t escape. The
Revenge
was relentless in its pursuit.

“Fire the port cannons!” Excitement bit deep into Dariq’s gut. The mysterious treasure would never reach Istanbul or Ibrahim if he had his way.

A volley of shots from the port side snapped the
Ottoman’s
mizzenmast. Utter chaos reigned aboard the beleaguered ship. Dariq could see crewmen scurrying about to repair the damage done by the
Revenge’s
guns.

“Bring her about, Mustafa,” Dariq ordered, “then give the wheel over to Omar. Break out the grappling hooks and ready the boarding planks. I want them in place the moment we come abreast.”

Mustafa hurried off to do Dariq’s bidding while Dariq continued to watch the drama taking place aboard the
Ottoman
. He was acquainted with Captain Juad, the master of the
Ottoman
, and hoped he would surrender his ship and give up the treasure without loss of life.

The
Ottoman
made a half-hearted attempt to fire its starboard cannon. The shot went wide, and then the battle was over. The pirates secured the grappling hooks, bringing the two ships together. Dariq was the first to leap atop the boarding plank, feet wide apart and sword at the ready. Mustafa was close behind him, towering over Dariq, while pirates from the
Revenge
grabbed lines to swing aboard the
Ottoman
, eager to share in the plunder.

“Surrender!” Dariq shouted as he jumped down upon the rolling deck of the
Ottoman
.

Captain Juad raced across the deck toward him. “I want bloodshed no more than you do, Prince Dariq.”

None of the Turkish sailors seemed eager to meet the Pirate Prince in armed combat, and Captain Juad was wise enough to realize his crewmen would fight a losing battle against cutthroat pirates, who lived and fought for the promise of riches.

Dariq watched through narrowed lids as Juad seemed to wage a battle with himself. Dariq knew the captain to be brave and honorable, and that he valued the life of his men, but Dariq wondered if the good captain valued the treasure he carried more than his own life.

“Do you promise to spare my men?” Juad asked. “I know what it is to have my decks run slippery with blood.”

“Surrender your ship and your treasure and you may leave with your lives intact.”

Juad eyed the pirates lined up behind Mustafa with distrust. “Will your men obey you?”

Dariq threw back his head and laughed. “My pirates always obey me. All they care about is the treasure you carry.”

Juad’s heavy dark brows shot up. “What do you know about the treasure, Prince Dariq?”

While appearing to be relaxed, Dariq was drawn taut as a bowstring. “Not a great deal, except that its arrival is eagerly awaited by Ibrahim. He will not have it, however, for I shall claim it.”

“Come to my cabin,” Juad invited. “We should speak in private about the treasure.”

“Do you surrender all to me?”

Juad laughed. “Oh, aye, the treasure is yours, such as it is. I wish you joy of it.”

Captain Juad snapped out curt orders to his men, informing them that he was surrendering the ship and its treasure to Prince Dariq. Their reaction was not what
Dariq had expected. Some men laughed outright, while others sent him sly smiles. Though there were a few grumbles, most seemed relieved to be rid of the sultan’s treasure.

“Secure the ship,” Dariq told Mustafa. The knot of men parted as Dariq followed the captain to his cabin. Some of the
Ottoman’s
sailors clapped him on the back, while others wished him good luck. A few even asked to join the Brotherhood.

“Down with Ibrahim the murderer!” a Turkish sailor shouted, followed by a chorus of ayes.

Dariq entered the captain’s cabin and closed the door behind him.

“Sit down, Prince,” Juad invited. “ ’Tis a long time since we have spoken.” He sighed. “The days of the great Murad’s rule are long past. I must answer to Ibrahim now, whether I like it or not.”

Dariq took the seat Juad offered. “I hoped you would surrender, Juad. I have naught against you personally and would spare your life for my father’s sake, for he loved you well.”

“I am glad to hear that, Prince. I but do Ibrahim’s bidding. I consider myself lucky to have avoided you on the high seas thus far. Ibrahim is a murderer; few of his subjects hold him in high regard. He is nothing like his father. He even tried to convince the Grand Vizier that you had a hand in killing your brothers. Selim did not believe him. You are admired by all for your courage and perseverance against your brother’s evil machinations.”

“Thank you for confiding that to me, Juad.” He pushed himself out of his chair. “All the same, I still must relieve you of your cargo. What is it? Gold? Silver? Aye, tell me what my brother is so eager to possess.”

Juad straightened his turban and cleared his throat. “The treasure is not what you think, Prince.”

Dariq’s face settled into harsh lines. “Describe the treasure to me.”

“Better yet, I will show you. Come, my friend. Follow me and you shall see for yourself the treasure Sultan Ibrahim is eagerly awaiting.”

“I know how greedy Ibrahim can be when he wants something,” Dariq said, following Juad out the door, “so I’m quite anxious to see his treasure. Depriving Ibrahim of something he desires is my sole purpose in life. ’Tis the reason I turned to piracy.”

Juad sighed and shook his head. A frisson of disquiet slid down Dariq’s spine. Why was Juad being so evasive? Perhaps there
was
no treasure and he had been deliberately misled.

He stopped abruptly and hauled Juad around to face him. “Something is wrong, Juad. Is the treasure aboard another ship?”

Juad shrugged. “There is treasure and there is treasure. You must judge its worth by your own standards.”

Dariq’s scowl deepened. He was beginning to worry now. Captain Juad was talking in riddles. A treasure was a treasure no matter what a man’s standards. Dariq was hoping to take something from Ibrahim that he valued, something he desired, but Juad’s attitude was making him intensely uneasy.

Dariq followed Captain Juad down a narrow companionway. He expected to be taken to the hold, where cargo is usually stored, but obviously this treasure was too valuable to be left in damp quarters. That thought raised his spirits a bit but didn’t entirely ease his misgivings.

Juad stopped before a door at the end of the companionway.
Dariq’s dark brows rose when he saw a burly sailor standing guard. “You keep Ibrahim’s treasure here, under guard?”

“Aye. You will see why in a moment.”

Juad dismissed the guard and opened the door. “Behold the sultan’s treasure, Prince Dariq. Make of it what you will for it now belongs to you. Truthfully, I am glad to be done with it. It has caused me a great deal of trouble.”

Somewhat wary, Dariq stepped inside. He ducked just in time to avoid a missile that sailed past his head and crashed to the deck.

Then, with shock and a great deal of dismay, he saw her.

Ibrahim’s treasure.

A woman.

Willow Foxburn glared at the fierce pirate who had barged into the cabin, ready to defend herself should the need arise. He appeared startled to see her, his ferocious glower causing her to gulp back a cry. He had dangerous eyes, she thought. Mesmerizing gray eyes. They locked with hers and held, but she didn’t look away.

Did he speak English? she wondered.

He said nothing, merely fixed her with that intense silver gaze. She held her breath, suddenly aware that this man presented a new king of danger. Though the man was dressed as a Turk, there was something about him that set him apart from Captain Juad’s sailors.

He was handsome. Impossibly so. Terrifyingly so. Clearly, he was Turkish, but his silver-gray eyes softened his features and suggested he was not all Turk. She had never seen a man quite like him before.

“Who are you?” she asked, refusing to back away from his intimidating presence. “I heard the sound of cannon. Is the
Ottoman
under attack? Are you a pirate?”

She gave a little start as his glittering gaze swept over her, his curiosity as obvious as hers.

“Do you speak English?” Willow asked.

The responsive flicker in his silver eyes might have been surprise, but his expression remained unreadable.

Dariq was too shocked to speak. It had never crossed his mind that Ibrahim’s treasure could be a woman. Not just any woman, but a woman with hair of pure gold, eyes as green as emeralds, skin like silk and cheeks tinted with roses. His mind failed to accept what his eyes beheld. Dariq had always known that Ibrahim preferred golden-haired women but had yet to find such a woman… until now. The woman standing before him now was likely to satisfy all his brother’s desires.

And with good reason. She would satisfy a stone if it had a cock. Thinking back, Dariq couldn’t recall one golden-haired concubine in the harem. Even his mother had dark hair, and she was English. It was from Saliha Sultana that he had inherited his silver-gray eyes.

Dariq’s gaze slid over the young woman, assessing her worth as only a connoisseur of beautiful females could. She wore a short vest and sheer skirts that concealed little of her charms. An aba, the robe meant to hide her curvaceous body from the eyes of the world, lay across the bed.