The Pirate Prince (Pirate's Booty Series, Book Five) (11 page)

BOOK: The Pirate Prince (Pirate's Booty Series, Book Five)
8.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Drive to the warehouse,” she directed the driver and soon he pulled before one of the low, long buildings along the quayside.

“Go inside and inquire after Prince Rajak,” she ordered and the driver complied.

Soon he returned. “He is not there, Your Highness,” he said. “No one knows where he is.”

Azara sat uncertain of what to do next, when an idea came to her. “Do you know where the woman called Kamilah lives?”

Reluctantly, the driver nodded his head without meeting her gaze.

“Then go there,” Azara ordered, willing to swallow her pride.

The driver shrugged and climbed back into his seat. The carriage lumbered through the streets until it came to a villa located on the edge of town, its sleek lines and open balconies facing the ocean.

“Should I enquire within?” the driver asked.

Azara shook her head. “I will go myself,” she said and with the driver’s help, left the carriage.

Wrapping her veil around her head, she wished she’d paused long enough to take an appropriate robe to cover her gown, but it was too late now. A servant answered her knock, welcomed her in and left her while she inquired of her mistress if she would see a caller. Kamilah came to the hall.

“Ah, Princess Azara, is it not?” she asked, one eyebrow arching with something Azara identified as an emotion less than friendly.

“Yes, Kamilah. I’ve come to see if Rajak is here.”

“Rajak?” Kamilah’s lovely eyes narrowed, glittering with malice. “I’m afraid he’s not here at the moment. Perhaps if you’d like to wait.”

Azara’s heart sank. Obviously, the servants had been right. Rajak had continued to see Kamilah. But what of last night? It was hard to reckon their passionate night together with a man who returned to his old mistress.

“It’s very important that I see him at once,” she said stiffly. “Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“I have no need to check his whereabouts,” Kamilah replied, and her full lips curved in a smile. “I knew you could never keep him.”

The sound of a carriage arriving outside drew their attention.

“Perhaps that is he,” Azara said hopefully and hurried to the entrance, but to her dismay, Boghos blocked her view.

“What have we here?” he asked with false joviality. “Princess Azara.” He bowed elaborately.

“She’s looking for Prince Rajak,” Kamilah said.

She had followed behind and now Azara found herself caught between the two of them. She fought down a sudden twist of unreasonable panic.

“I have a message for him that’s most important,” she said, edging her way around Boghos. She was surprised at how easily he allowed her to maneuver herself to the entrance.

“I’ll tell Rajak that you came looking for him,” Kamilah said. “I will tell him you said it was most important and that you didn’t come out of jealousy.”

Azara opened her mouth on an angry retort, but looking into Kamilah’s face, she knew anything she had to say would only add to this woman’s pleasure. Biting her lips, she turned away.

“I hope you find him.” Boghos’ snide words followed her back to her carriage.

The driver helped her inside and, climbing into his seat, took up the reins.

“Take me back to the palace,” Azara said, understanding now how unwisely she’d behaved in not taking an escort.

The driver nodded and whipped the horses into a trot. Azara glanced back and saw Kamilah and Boghos standing on the portico, watching her. A chill shivered down her spine. She’d be happy to get back to the safety of the palace, but first she must warn Rajak.

But how could she if she couldn’t find him?

Halfway back, when she’d finally started to relax, she heard the clatter of hooves following them. Four men rode abreast on the road behind. Boghos was one of them. In no time, the men overtook the carriage and surrounded it. Boghos pushed his big horse close so he could look at Azara.

“The beautiful bird of paradise has left her cage and now she is mine,” he said and laughed harshly.

“You wouldn’t dare. Leave me alone or Rajak will kill you.”

“If he can prove it is I who has taken you,” Boghos replied. He nodded to one of his men. “Kill the driver and hide the carriage so no one can find it.”

“No,” Azara cried.

But one of the riders clambered into the carriage and carried out Boghos’ bloody command. The driver had time only to cry out hoarsely before his throat was neatly cut. Blood spewed everywhere. Azara screamed as well, drawing back, looking for a way to escape this trap of her own making. No one would ever know what had happened to them.

Laughingly heartily, Boghos grabbed her arm and hauled her out of the carriage and over his saddle. In those terror filled moments, she had the presence of mind to loosen her veil and let it flutter away on a breeze. No one seemed to notice. At once, they whipped their horses to an all-out gallop and retraced their steps to Port Dauphin.

Don’t panic, Azara told herself. Rajak will find you. She prayed that would be so.

 
 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

“Where is she?” Rajak raged, stalking about the room.

All the servants were lined up along one side, even Azara’s serving women. Oma stood with the corner of her veil pressed against her mouth, fighting back sobs. The youngest woman, Rajak recalled her name was Malika and that she was Azara’s favorite, comforted the old woman. Hestia stood apart from all of them, her head high, her manner defiant.

“Did she say nothing to you?” he asked again.

“As I’ve told you, Your Highness, she said only that she needed a carriage,” Basa said. “When it came, I was busy making arrangements for an escort, but she got into the carriage and went away without a guard.”

“What about the driver?”

“Jahnu is a very reliable man,” Basa said. “He would give his life to save the princess.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Rajak snapped. “Kalari, have you sent men out to search for any sign of them?”

“You know I have, Rajak. I sent them out immediately when I heard she had not returned. They’re still searching along with men from the village. We’ve done all we can for now.”

“Not all, or else we would have found her,” Rajak growled and grabbed up his riding crop. “We’ll search every road between here and Port Dauphin.”

“We’ve already done that, Rajak,” Kalari said. “We’ve found no sign of her or the carriage.”

“We’ll keep searching,” Rajak said and took a step toward the door when there was a commotion in the entry hall and several men rushed inside.

“Well, have you found her?” Rajak demanded upon seeing them.

“No, Your Highness, we have not found the princess, but we found the carriage.”

“Where is it?” Rajak demanded then drew up short. “What is that you’re carrying?”

“It was on the high road from the town,” the man answered, holding out the bit of silk. “From there, we found where the carriage had been hidden. We brought the carriage back with us. It’s just out front.”

Rajak snatched the bright piece of cloth from the man’s hands and hurried outside. The carriage was heavily damaged. For a moment, Rajak wondered how they’d managed to bring it back until he saw the blood-covered upholstery and all other thought fled his mind. His knees buckled under him, and he gave a cry such as a creature in great pain makes just before his heart stops. Clinging to the side of the carriage, Rajak stared at the blood and tried to tell himself that the blood was not that of Azara. There was so much of it. A small body such as hers could never hold that much blood. A spirit, as lively and intelligent, couldn’t be snuffed out just like that.

Kalari came to stand beside him and wrapped a supportive arm around him.

“Come away, Rajak,” he said sympathetically. “The deed is done and can’t be undone.”

“She’s not dead,” Rajak said stonily.

When Kalari opened his mouth to reason, Rajak turned on him.

“She’s not dead. I would know it, in here.” He clutched his tunic over his heart. Wildly, he looked around the circle of men.

“Search for her,” he commanded. “We won’t stop until we’ve found her.”

Without protest, the men gathered their arms and torches and rode away into the night. Rajak watched them go then forcing strength back into his legs, he moved to his mount.

“Rajak.” Kalari followed him. “You’re tired and distraught. You must rest and take some nourishment.”

Rajak turned on him, gripping the front his tunic. “Do you think I can sleep or eat, knowing that she’s out there without protection? Go eat and rest yourself, if you must, but stay out of my way.”

He pushed his friend away from him and mounted. The rest of his men followed suit and gathered around him.

Kalari’s face was pale. “I think only of your well-being, Your Highness,” he said stiffly, clearly offended.

“Then mount and ride beside me, good friend,” Rajak said.

Without further words, Kalari leaped into his saddle and took his place at Rajak’s side.

They searched every road, every ravine, every clump of woods and brush. They searched the streets and alleys of Port Dauphin. The sun rose and the streets began to fill with people, tradesmen, drunkards making their way to ship or home to sleep off the night’s imbibing. They questioned every man, woman and child they saw and came away with no clue.

Rajak studied the ships anchored in the harbor. Could she be on one of those ships? With Allah’s help, he’d board every one and search every bilge.

Kalari rode up beside him. “We have a witness who saw her carriage waiting in front of Kamilah’s abode.”

“Kamilah? Why would she have gone there?” Rajak asked.

“You know how jealous Kamilah is. Perhaps she sent a message to Azara.”

Rajak’s lips tightened at Kalari’s words. He set off at a gallop through the town and to the other side, straight to Kamilah’s door.

“Rajak, how wonderful to see you,” Kamalah replied upon seeing Rajak. She looked as if she’d just risen from bed and thrown a silken robe over herself, or else she’d worn it to seduce him. It hung open to reveal tantalizing glimpses of her breasts and long, tawny thighs.

“Where is Azara?” Rajak demanded without preamble.

“Azara?” Kamalah feigned surprise, arching one eyebrow. “Has your little princess taken flight?”

“I know she was here,” Rajak said harshly. “Her carriage was seen here yesterday afternoon before she disappeared. It will do you no good to lie.”

“Why should I lie to you, Rajak?” she asked with some amusement. “I no longer have to answer to you.”

He stepped forward and grabbed her arm in a bruising hold. “You’ll answer to me if you’ve done anything to cause harm to her.”

She cried out as his grip tightened then meeting his gaze, she smiled and slid her body along his.

“I give you my pledge,” she said, breathing the words. “I have done nothing to your little princess.” Her gaze met his, challenging and enigmatic. “Have you tried Boghos? I understand he developed a passion for her.” Her gaze slid away from his face.

“What do you know?” Rajak cried, shaking her slightly.

She laughed and brought her face to his as if to kiss him, but kept her lips a scant inch from his. “When you grow tired of looking for her, come to me, Rajak. I can soothe your soul as she never could. I have learned many new ways to please a man, and I want to show them to you.”

Rajak flung her away. “If I find you’ve had anything to do with this, I will kill you myself,” he raged and stalked out of her dwelling.

Kamilah’s laughter followed him even as he rode away.

With a full regiment of men, he rode to Boghos’ villa sitting on one of the high hills overlooking the port. Outlooks stopped them long before they reached the gate to Boghos’ property and escorted them the rest of the way. Boghos came out on the portico to greet them.

“Welcome, Prince Rajak,” he called, his palms together in the traditional gesture of hospitality. “I am pleased you’ve come to my humble abode. You’ve not done so before.”

BOOK: The Pirate Prince (Pirate's Booty Series, Book Five)
8.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Dark Mirror by Diane Duane
Daring to Dream by Sam Bailey
A Midsummer Eve's Nightmare by Fletcher Crow, Donna
His Old Kentucky Home by Brynn Paulin
Operation Damocles by Oscar L. Fellows
Gauntlet Rite of Ascension by Marcus Abshire