The Huntress ✓

22. Diplomacy

Blood Rose hailed the Falcon and Lucien inwardly groaned as he signaled for them to come aboard. The Huntress disappeared into the camouflage of the sea and sky far too quickly for Captain Bartholomew to pursue.

Lucien ducked into his cabin, splashed water on his face and combed his hair. When he returned to the deck a boat was tying on. He stood before the accommodation ladder and waited for the swarthy captain.

Two of Lucien's crewman helped the over-sized man over the rail.

"Greetings, Bellemare. I hope you'll forgive our intrusion," the dark captain grunted, out of breath from the short climb.

"Not at all, sir." Lucien nodded with false politeness, turning his face slightly to catch more of the fresh wind, rather that Bart's overpowering perfume. He'd no desire to entertain this foul creature.

Two officers followed, one tall and ungainly, wearing a powdered wig, and the other a small, neatly dressed man with dark hair pulled back tightly in a pig tail. Two other sailors remained at their oars below.

"Bellemare, are you aware the ship you just let escape was that of the pirate, Farrow?" he bellowed.

Yes, Lucien was very aware of that fact.

"You mean Captain Bronte Farrow? Yes, it was. And as for escaping, Farrow sailed off with our blessing."

"Your blessing! And I'm a salted codfish! Am I to understand you were willingly consorting with that scum?" Captain Bartholomew sputtered.

Lucien steeled himself. "We were merely engaging in a gentleman's duel over some matter of disagreement."

The older man eyed the blood on Lucien's shoulder. Lucien realized he'd forgotten to don a clean shirt in his hastiness

"A gentleman's duel! Bah! Hardly possible with such misbegotten filth. And how did you fare in this duel?" Bart said with an air of superiority.

"Let's just say I pity any who attempt to cross blades with Farrow," Lucien replied smiling through gritted teeth. There was no use denying his loss; it was as plain as the blood on his shirt.

"You'd do well to note that those friendly with England's enemies could be labeled as traitors themselves." Bart smiled, a feral gleam in his eyes. "I have it on good report Farrow recently attacked and brutally tortured an English sealer, and is doomed to hang for it."

Tortured? Lies! "Good advice. I should hate to end up on London Bridge with my head on a pike," Lucien said.

"Well said," replied the half-Spaniard with a glint of ill humor in his eye. "I will have it noted that Farrow fired upon this ship." He scanned the ship briefly before asking with genuine curiosity, "When I hailed you I didn't know this was your ship, Bellemare. Wasn't yours Bluebird?"

"T'was," Lucien replied coolly. "My sloop was stolen the first night she put to sea and this is but her sister. But, of course you couldn't know, since you disappeared from the island the very same night."

The dark captain's face reddened. "I did not disappear as you put it. I was merely anxious to start hunting the foul beasts haunting these seas."

"And how many of these beasts have you captured?" Lucien smiled politely.

"It takes time to track these pirates! By the time you hear of an attack they're long gone. One can't expect to run into them merely be chance!"

"Clearly. Unfortunate my ship slipped away when you were so near it."

"Yes, very unfortunate," the half-Spaniard said with narrowed eyes. Then, in an obvious effort to change the subject, he asked, "What say you to a fine meal to celebrate the new year that is upon us?"

"If it please you." Eating with this man was the last thing he desired, and as for the new year, well, he hardly knew what it would bring. Things were persisting so utterly in the opposite direction he wished them.

"Then send the message to your galley straight away! I could eat an ox! I've nothing better than salted meat and hardtack aboard."

Lucien turned quickly to hide a grimace and sent a message to the cook. The man had put on a fair amount of weight since last they met and Lucien didn't believe for a moment he'd obtained that girth with biscuits.

He'd have to spend his entire evening with this popinjay, on his guard, no doubt, while the knave tried to wheedle information out of him about his encounter with the pirates.

What an unfortunate end to such a marvelous day.

***

Indeed the night did pass as tortuously as Lucien anticipated. When he finally fell into his berth to sleep he found himself again caught in the depths of the nightmare he'd thought himself free of. Though one thing had changed. When he reached out for the hand of his sister he caught it, and pulled up not her, but Captain Bronte Farrow.

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Short chapter, sorry. Let me know if you'd like another uploaded this week!