Princess at Sea (10 page)

The light was becoming tolerable, and I shifted a body width closer, breath held against the hurt. A cold feeling shocked through me as I realized the slump of green-and-gold fabric before her was Alex, his fair head in her lap. “Contessa,” I whispered, “what happened?”

She brought her head up, staring at me with blue eyes forced wide so she wouldn't cry. “After the boom hit you?” she asked, her voice wavering.

I nodded, then wished I hadn't as my stomach threatened to empty itself. I slowly worked my way off the pile of nets, finding the damp sacks beside them marginally better. At least the ceiling wasn't quite so close. It was the limit of my leash, and I wasn't sure I could get to her. It was stifling, but I felt cold, not hot—and sticky from old sweat.

Contessa looked from me back to Alex, her face screwing up in dismay, unable to speak. From where I was in the shadows, I took in the new bruise on Alex's face, visible under a thickening growth of blond and red stubble. His clothes were bloodstained and torn, all the ornamentation gone. A clean, well-applied bandage showed from under his open shirt, tied to his front shoulder. He was flushed, and when I stretched to the limit of my reach, I found I could put a hand to his forehead. My eyes rose to Contessa's. He was burning in fever.

“How long was I unconscious?” I asked, not believing this happened overnight.

“A night,” she said, her voice unusually low and flat. “The following day and night, and then up to now.”

Appalled, I counted. A full twenty-four hours, and then some. Almost two days.

Contessa sniffed loudly, wiping her hand under her nose in a very unqueenlike motion. I followed her gaze to Alex, shifting the empty sacks smelling of moldy flax to try to find a more comfortable position. “Contessa,” I prompted softly, not wanting to push her too far but needing to know. “What happened? Where's Duncan?” My heart clenched.
Why isn't he down here?
“Is he . . . Is he dead?” I asked, not liking how my voice rose to a squeak at the end.

“He will be if I ever find him alone,” she said.

The bitter hatred in her voice pulled my head up. Seeing my shocked look, she added angrily, “The chull bait is up on deck with the rest of those foul bastards—playing cards. I've been alone all this time, not knowing if you or Alex were going to live or die. And he's been swilling ale, playing cards, and laughing at us, the chu pit of a man.”

Stunned, I stared at her.
Duncan? He wouldn't do that. He couldn't!

“Why didn't you tell me he was a thief!” she accused hotly.

My cracked lips parted. “He's not a thief, he's just a cheat,” I said, not knowing anymore if the difference meant anything. Confused, I drew back, her shrill voice making my head pound. Alex, too, stirred, and I think that, not my pained look, made her lower her voice.

“He has a thief mark, Tess,” she said. “I heard Captain Rylan say so. The lying bastard said he owed Costenopolie nothing and that he'd rather live a free pirate than be a dead man upholding a name he owed no allegiance to.”

“No,” I protested, feelings of betrayal pulling at me. “Duncan wouldn't do that. He's lying so he can stay free and help us.”

My voice was low in case someone was listening. Duncan wouldn't do this. I had to believe he wouldn't leave me—leave us—to die. He had proven his worth a hundred times over. He had shown his feelings for me before he knew I had ties to the palace, helping me find Kavenlow when Alex's brother had taken over the palace last spring, knowing there was likely no reward but death at the madman's hand. He had willingly risked death to retake the palace after I told him not to. He could have stolen from the palace and run hundreds of times in the past, and he hadn't. He hadn't betrayed me then, and he wouldn't betray me now.

“Contessa,” I said, leaning forward to make my chain clink. “He had to lie so he can help us. Having him chained to a wall beside us doesn't help anyone.”

“He's a lying, cheating, filthy dog,” she said bitterly, “leaving us here to rot while he schemes. The only one benefiting from him being free is
him.
”

“Sometimes scheming is more powerful than a blade,” I said, thinking of my lies necessitated by the game that manipulated her like a chess piece. Duncan was probably more honest than I was. “He doesn't know how to use a sword. He has to rely on his wits. He hasn't left us,” I said, an ugly sliver of doubt sliding between my heart and reason.

“But I heard him!” she exclaimed softly. “He called you a fool and said Costenopolie would fall before an heir could be conceived, much less born, and he was done with it, having gained all he could. He has betrayed you, Tess. He's cutting his losses and moving on.”

Contessa's voice, though low, was hard. Alex stirred. “Rose?” he murmured.

“No,” Contessa whispered, her ire falling from her like water. She brushed her pale hand over his hair and tried to arrange his tattered collar. “It's Contessa, Alex. I'm Contessa.”

I watched her soothe him, wondering if he was about to wake but deciding he was delirious. Faint in the back of my pounding head was the memory of him calling out for his “Rose, Sweet Rosie” while I had been unconscious.

Contessa's breaths became harsh, and she seemed close to tears again. Apparently this had been happening a lot. My heart went out to her. She had been here alone for almost two days, chained to the wall, tending her husband and unable to reach me, not knowing if either of us was going to survive. But Duncan was free, and with that, came hope.

“Contessa?” I said softly, and she pulled her head up. Her eyes behind her long, greasy hair were red-rimmed and swollen. “I'm sorry. I knew about Duncan's thief mark. I should have told you. It's not his. He took it for another, and he's ashamed for having it. That's why I never said anything. He isn't betraying us. I have to believe that.”

The fire was gone from her, and she slumped, looking beaten, her hair falling to hide her face. Her hands on Alex never ceased. My chain clinked softly as I tried to move closer. “Tell me what happened,” I said.

The sun caught upon her hands, now empty of rings as they moved over his forehead, gently pushing his hair back. Her fingers were chapped from salt and looked sore. “The boom knocked you out,” she said, and I could hear the tightness of her throat in her emotionless words. “The sailors attacked you when you fell. Alex tried to keep them off you. I was so scared. He couldn't do it, even with Duncan's help. They hurt him.” She took a deep, shaking breath. “They drove a knife into his shoulder to make him kneel. He wouldn't even then. They cauterized it this morning after I told them it was infected. It took five men to hold him down.”

I swallowed hard and reached out to her, imagining her down here listening to that, unable to help and not knowing what they had done to him until they brought him back to her.

“I don't know if he's getting better or not,” she said, her voice deceptively level. “He won't eat, and the small bit of water I've gotten into him just burns up in fever.”

“Water?” I said, my cracked lips suddenly unbearable. “You have water?”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she said, twisting to reach behind her. Leaning over Alex, she held a water sack out, the bloodstains under her nails looking ugly as her hands passed through a narrow beam of light.

I stretched for it eagerly, my soot-blackened hands just meeting her white ones. The sack was almost flaccid, and I sucked greedily at the tepid water tasting of hide. Three gulps almost emptied it, and I reluctantly pulled it from me, thinking I could have downed it all, but not knowing if they would ever give us any more.

“Thank you,” I said, passing it back to her for safekeeping.

Contessa took it, her hands resuming their motion over Alex. “We're taken, aren't we,” she said.

My gaze dropped in guilt. “I'm sorry, Contessa,” I whispered. “I never should have made you leave the
Sandpiper.
”

She didn't look up, watching Alex's breath slip in and out of him like fire. “He said it was his fault. Before he went delirious, he said he should have known by Captain Rylan's grip that he wasn't a merchant. That he deserved to lose me. That he was sorry,” she whispered. “But it's really my fault.”

“Yours!” I exclaimed, then winced when Alex stirred.

She finally met my eyes, her face miserable. “I'm so useless, Tess. I was so frightened. I should have been able to do something. You did something. You almost got us free. I should have jumped into the water when we realized we were being taken. We might have survived the water, but this?”

She gestured helplessly, and I reached over Alex to take her hand in mine, stilling its incessant motion. “No,” I said firmly. “If you had gone over the side in the black of night, you would have drowned. We all would have. They knew who we were. They're taking care of Alex's wounds. They'll ask for ransom, and Kavenlow will pay it or rescue us. I never should have let that man on my boat.”

Contessa was silent.
Guilt?
I wondered, then changed my mind. She was apprehensive, fearful. “What is it?” I asked, not liking her air of bad news yet unsaid.

“They only want Alex and me,” she said, not meeting my eyes. “They don't care about you. That's why Duncan turned pirate. They were going to kill him if he didn't join . . .”

“Contessa?” I asked, a sliver of fear for the hesitation at the end of her words.

“You killed some of them,” she said, without the barest hint of recrimination or distaste. “Alex did, too, but he's a royal.”

“So am I. You sent notice to all our neighbors. Until you have children, I'm the third in line to the throne. Everyone knows it!” Kavenlow and the player community weren't pleased I was still in line for the throne, but as long as I didn't take it, they wouldn't try to kill me. And now the pirates wanted to kill me because I was too far away?

“You aren't royal in their eyes,” she said, her words seeming to fall over themselves in her pity. “I told them that Kavenlow would pay as much for you as for me. I promised them everything, but all they see is a gutter trull who killed their mates. It was all Captain Rylan could do to keep them from raping and killing you right then. They want revenge from you, not money.”

The moist, clammy air under the deck set an unbreakable chill in me. Somewhere in the back of my memory, I could remember the agony of being beaten, and the fear in Contessa's eyes as she watched.
I'm alive,
I told myself, stomach quivering and arms starting to tremble.
I am alive, and I will stay that way.

But it didn't help.

“Tess?”

I jerked, finding her expression pinched in worry and fear. “You would have woken up tied to a hook in the crew's quarters if they hadn't started arguing over who was to have you first,” she said. “Half the crew is claiming blood-rights, and the other half is trying to buy you.”

My face started to twist, but I quickly sealed my expression to nothing when she started to cry.

“I'm sorry,” she sobbed, the racking sounds bringing laughter from the men above. “But I had to tell you. They're going to kill you, and all my money and royal name won't stop them.”

Alex's dry voice was featherlight, but it woke me where the steps of the sailors above us and the snap of the sails no longer did.

“Hush, Alex,” Contessa whispered, and I cracked my eyes. It seemed to be noon, by the angle of the sun slipping in through the few cracks, but I was still cold. I didn't move, lest my stiff muscles remember how sore they were. I had been drowsing, almost asleep, but something had changed.

Curled up with my knees almost to my chin, I lay on the rank, moldering nets and listened. I could hear waves on the shore and gulls. The wind in the canvas was gone, and the deck was flat. There was a rhythmic rise and fall and the soft slap of waves hitting a stationary hull.

“Mr. Smitty.” I heard Duncan's faint call, and I listened intently. I couldn't believe he had betrayed us. This aligning himself with the pirates had to be an attempt to help us.

“Mr. Smitty?” he called again, closer. There was a splash, and a rising of catcalls. A gentle bump thumped through the hold. I think the dinghy had gone in. A shiver went through me, and my stomach clenched. We had arrived somewhere. There was no sound of civilization, no hint of commerce or the noise of women calling. Just water and wind.

“Aye? What you want now?” came Mr. Smitty's rough voice from right atop me, and my eyes widened. I stared up at the underside of the black planks.