"Say something to me, Samantha, please."
We had made it to an island a few hours later, the whole of us working to keep water out of the boat and beat the storm that was coming in as we rowed in a set direction. There had been no time to talk about what happened, or when we finally came ashore, falling to the ground in sweet relief. But, now that we had been set up in an inn for the night and fed, there was plenty of time to say things.
Fury, so incredibly white hot, burned through me whenever I looked at Tristan. It felt as though he'd broken every vow he'd made to me. I wondered if he had loved me at all, or if he just wanted me around as some type of prize. All I wanted to do was scream at him, but I couldn't say anything. Throughout dinner, I sat thinking up ways to hurt him with words. More than anything, I wanted him to feel that loss he had struck me with, that sense of absolute betrayal and agony at being cast away.
John Butler and Father Torres had barely survived the fight, along with six other men. Sadly, I told John of Adam Kelly's death. They all knew that Randall had taken James. As we gathered in the main room of the inn to eat, there was a somberness to us all that seemed to have infected the whole place. Crewmembers who weren't knights sat off by themselves, glancing at us every now and then, but were otherwise completely content to remain where they were.
"What are we going to do?" John had inquired. "We have to go after them, but we have no ship or any other way to get there. It will be a month before anyone arrives from the Old World to assist, and that's if they send their largest, fastest ship and have good wind."
"I sent word to the Order at Tortuga," Tristan said, sighing deeply. "They will come as fast as they can. Someone else is bound to have told them what happened in Africa. They should already be on their way to investigate."
"What order is he talking about, señorita?" Alfonso whispered, leaning toward me as they continued discussing.
"The Knights Templar," I replied, not really feeling like keeping any secrets for the both of them just then. "Randall is one as well, but on the bad side."
His eyes had widened as he glanced between Tristan and John, neither of the men having heard me tell him. Mumbling in Spanish, he crossed himself quickly and left the table, the revelation affecting him strongly.
"Either way, Thomas will have been on Oak Isle for at least two months before we get there," John argued. "He will have been able to take most of it, if not all."
"James doesn't know where the door is," Tristan breathed. "I never told him. They'll have to scour the island to find it, and even then they might never discover it. Sam said they've been searching for more than two hundred years and no one was successful. Isn't that right, lass?"
They both looked at me expectantly, and I glared back, biting my tongue as I thought of something to say. "John," I started. "I can forgive you for cutting me loose, because I imagine you were either following orders, or saw that your captain needed assistance and you gave it without question. However, I will not be forgiving anyone else involved with this situation."
With that, I got up from the table and went upstairs to my room, locking the door behind me to keep Tristan from entering. After several hours of pleading, though, the innkeeper came up and unlocked it for him, glancing at me apologetically as she did so.
"What are ye doing?" he fumed, peeling his salty jacket off and throwing it on the floor. "Ye undermined me in front of the crew! Ye refused to answer your husband and captain. Would ye mind explaining what's going on?"
Folding my arms, I turned my back on him, wishing I had never even met him. This hurt too badly, cut too deep. I didn't think there would ever be a way to heal what he had broken. He'd shown his distrust and lack of faith in me, and shattered mine in him at the same time.
"Yer mad about me sending ye away. Aye, I understand. It was a necessary action though. Can ye not see that?"
Remaining silent, I stared hard at the wall, willing away the tears that threatened to spill. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry, not over this.
"Say something to me, Samantha. Please," he spoke again, softly, another huge sigh escaping him.
"And just what do you expect me to say?" I asked him coldly, finally unable to keep it in any longer. "I'm sorry that I think you're a sexist, pigheaded, brute of a man, who can't keep a promise to save his own life?"
"What?" he retorted in surprise, instantly freezing from where he'd been pacing.
Thumping my hand over my chest, anger fueled my response. "You think I dishonored you? What about when you allowed me to be voted part of the crew, told me I had to hold up my own end, and then refused to let me do so? What about when you married me and promised that I was your equal in every way, and then ordered me around like I was no better than your slave? What about when you told all of your men where I was really from? What about when you dropped me off the side of a bloody freaking ship and only watched long enough to make sure I didn't drown?"
"I was trying to protect ye," he answered, alarmed by my passionate outburst.
"I didn't need your protection!" I screamed. "You needed mine! If it weren't for me, we all would have been watching you burn up and sink into the sea with the ship! I have proved myself so many times it seems, and yet, you are still looking at me as the helpless little girl washed up on the beach."
"This was not some staged sword play between ye and one other man," he growled, becoming defensive. "Those men would have torn ye apart! Did ye want to be raped and murdered? I should think not!"
"I was there!" I yelled in disbelief. "I fought in that battle, even though you didn't want me to. I didn't have any of your help, because you didn't even know I'd returned. Your own wife. You know who did help me, once? Adam Kelly, because I saved his life. And now he's dead. He was the one you should have sent off if you were worried about people dying."
"Enough!" Tristan roared, obviously not used to being put in his place. "Do not dishonor a good man's memory by dragging him into a stupid fight!"
"Stupid fight? Is that what you think this is?" I laughed, finding it hard to believe he hadn't seen this coming, my reaction to his insulting behavior. "You have destroyed everything about yourself I was certain of. I want to go home."
He stopped in the middle of forming a word, hurt popping into his eyes. "Ye want to leave me?"
"I do," I replied, as calmly as I could. "But, unfortunately for me, the vase is now at the bottom of the ocean and I am stuck here."
"Randall took it," he stated quietly, sitting in the desk chair beside him. "Raided the room and carried it off with James."
"Oh." I felt a twist of despair, but wasn't sure if it was because going home was out of my reach, or that I'd actually told him I wanted to leave him.
"We can get it back," he said stiffly, staring at the floor. "And ye can go home. If ye still trust me to keep my word, that is."
"I don't," I replied, choking back a sob.
"What do I need to do then?" Looking up at me, I could see the pain I'd been suffering with reflected in his features, and I almost smiled. But, it felt like such a devilish thing to do that I kept it to myself.
"I'll have to go with you, I suppose," I stated in a matter of fact tone. "But just as a member of the crew. I won't be going anywhere as your wife. Not after what you did today."
"We're still legally married, lassie," he whispered, halfway reaching out for me. "Don't call it off yet. Give me another chance."
"My heart can not take another chance," I responded softly, quickly wiping away the one tear that had fallen onto my cheek. "I'm a time traveler. As far as I'm concerned, it's been a year and a day."
"Aye," he answered roughly, suddenly moving to his feet. "I'll leave ye be then, Miss Greene." Crossing the room to the door, he wrenched it open, pausing at the threshold. "I was only trying to keep ye alive, Samantha." His voice was quiet, full of hurt. "I love ye. I couldn't stand the thought of letting ye stay and die."
My heart was hurting, my entire being filled with immediate regret over the things I'd said, but I didn't know how to take them back, especially when I was so angry still. As the door closed, I felt myself collapsing, the tears I'd held back washing over me as I cried.
Everything was ruined and lost, with no way to mend myself and the heart that had been broken on the sea.
****
The next morning, John arrived to tell me that what was left of the crew was gathering on the beach. Tristan had managed to get us aboard a vessel going in the direction we wanted, but there was some business he needed to take care of before we departed. Hurriedly, I got dressed and went with him, wondering just what it was Tristan wanted to talk about.
When we were all assembled, he stood before us, looking the most tired I'd ever seen him and smelling quite strongly of rum. "I'm going after Thomas," he said simply. "Those who want to join me, we are leaving on that ship—" He pointed to one out in the bay—"in twenty minutes. Anyone who does not wish to join is free to make their way back to wherever they wish. Best in life to ye." With that, he turned and left us without another word, rubbing the top of his head vigorously.
"What happened to Capitán?" Alfonso asked from beside me. "Is he sick?"
"Love sick," John muttered, following after Tristan with a sigh.
"Are you okay, señorita?" Alfonso turned to me immediately. "You and Capitán had a fight?"
"It was more than a fight," I mumbled, moving after the two knights.
"What happened?" he pressed, hurrying to catch up.
"I don't want to talk about it," I half snapped, feeling a little more emotional than usual due to my own lack of sleep.
"I understand," he said hastily. "You will tell me when you're ready."
But I didn't feel like I would ever be ready to talk about it. How could one person make you hurt so much? Even when I'd broken up with my high school boyfriend, who I'd dated for two years, I hadn't felt like this. Getting out seemed like the only way I would ever be normal again, but the pain was so incredible I was starting to think I'd rather have my mind wiped and not have to remember any of it at all.
Reaching the long boat that would take us out to the ship, I turned, wondering how many of the men had decided to stay with us. To my surprise, they were all there, right behind me, waiting to get in the boat.
My spirits lightened some, I climbed aboard, sitting opposite Tristan, and glanced out at the boat.
"How are ye feeling this morning?" He asked just loud enough for me to hear and I flinched, not ready to bring it all up again.
"Tired," I answered simply. "You?"
"The same."
"You reek."
He laughed a little at that, rubbing a hand over his face. "I imagine I do, aye."
The men filled in around us, a slight nervousness to the air as we shoved off and started rowing toward the ship.
"Captain," one of the men started uncertainly. "Just how are the nine of us going to defeat Randall and his crew?"
"I'll tell ye, Bell," Tristan replied, smiling."But first, have ye ever considered joining a secret society of sorts?"