Chapter 13 #2
Percy nodded, swallowing another bite of his food. “It is made of water, flour, and salt. They’re simple, but they cleanse the palate and help fill your stomach.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw, and she suspected that there was something about the food that bothered him. Mayhap he’d eaten so many that he’d grown tired of the flavour. But…his entire demeanour had grown rigid, his spine stiff and muscles taut. Something was bothering him.
“Are you—” she began, but the ship pitched sideways, slamming her into his side.
“It’s the storm,” he said, as the ship’s bell began to ring.
Men rose from their seats as Percy shoved food into his mouth. Then he rose as well and urged her to her feet.
He clasped her arm and gazed unwaveringly into her eyes. “Bring your plate to the cabin. Stay low, stay safe. I will return at the end of my shift.”
She gave a short nod, clasping her plate close. “You stay safe as well.”
His lips tightened, and he leaned in to press his mouth to her ear. “Remember, Heather: you are fearsome and formidable.”
And with that, he was gone, up the companionway, leaving her standing there with her plate in her hand and warmth buzzing through her abdomen. Fearsome and formidable.
The ship swayed, forcing Heather to catch her footing. Best get moving. She hurried for the companionway on unsteady feet, when a voice halted her.
“Y’ don’t look so dangerous. Does she, men?” The voice was gruff, and it skittered up her spine with a thread of alarm.
“Naw, she don’t,” another voice said.
“I bet she’s soft, an easy frig,” said a third.
Fearsome, Heather reminded herself, despite the nerves tingling up and down her legs. She needed to prove her mettle to these men.
She turned to face them and noted with a pang of anger that she recognized one of them as a crewmate from the Sapphire. The cur.
One man stepped closer, his smile one full of menace and his eyes half-lidded with desire.
Fear seized her, and all at once every bit of her training vacated her mind. Blast. Surely there was something left that might prove useful? A strike? A block? Christ, what was the best method in which to break a man’s nose?
She stepped back from the approaching man, and the sheath bumped against her hip. Of course. My dirk.
With one hand on her plate, she clasped and brandished her dirk with the other. “Back away.”
One of the men’s eyebrows lifted with what appeared to be admiration, while the other pirate and the previous Sapphire crew member simply looked increasingly pleased as they continued their advance.
Oh, Lord. I might actually have to use this!
“Look, men, she ’as a little blade,” the advancing pirate said.
“Indeed,” she said, marvelling at the calm in her voice. “And I shall gut you with it if you come any closer.” She entered what she knew to be the en garde position in fencing and prepared herself for what might come next. Please let me remember something useful.
The first man reached out to clasp her wrist, and she instinctively slashed the dirk through the air, slicing into the blackguard’s hand.
He pulled back with a shout as the ship pitched sideways. The desire in his gaze turned swiftly into malevolence, and his hands clenched into fists, no doubt to stem the flow of blood.
Heather caught her footing and readied herself once more.
“Get her, men,” he growled. “I want this bitch taken down.”
Her stomach twisted, but she kept her stance.
The other pirate approached tentatively from the front, while the sailor from the Sapphire rounded behind her. Blast.
Work fast and get out.
The sailor attacked first, his arms coming around her waist and knocking her off balance. Some of her lentils slipped from her plate, and hot fury raced through her. My food! She would not let these men dictate her time on the Pandora. She was in charge, and she was dratted hungry.
With a flourish, she spun the dirk in her palm and thrust the blade between the sailor’s ribs. His hoarse scream rang in her ears, but she hadn’t the time to think as he released her. She pulled the dirk out and brandished it at the pirates before her.
“I shan’t warn you again,” she said low, grateful that the sudden trembling she felt didn’t reflect in her voice.
The pirates, at last, retreated, and she backed to the companionway.
“That’s enough, men,” another pirate—blimey, it was Stubbs!—called over the din of the bell. “You ’eard th’ cap’n. Get t’ yer stations.”
He was a bit late, but she appreciated the show of support nonetheless.
Oh Lord, Heather! Did you just kill a man? She chanced a glance, and a wave of profound relief swept over her. The sailor held a hand to his side as he cursed her name, but he was alive. And it appeared that he wasn’t bleeding too badly. He would survive.
“Thank you,” she called after Stubbs as she sheathed her dirk.
Stubbs tugged on his forelock before hurrying to his duties.
Still clutching awkwardly at her plate, Heather clumsily made her way up the companionway onto the gun deck, where men were scrambling to ensure that items were fastened down and the animals were safe.
Her heart was all but entirely in her throat, and her skin hummed with trepidation.
Would any of these pirates attempt an assignation with her?
She swallowed her fear, determined to ignore them, and darted into the safety of the captain’s cabin, closing the door behind her.