Chapter 25 #2
Rosetta placed her hand over her chin and lips in thought, nodding her head to say she understood. “Do you think there is something here?”
They ventured further through the brush and tall trees with no branches except high above to umbrella them.
Seagulls and other coastal birds squawked and chirped while bugs made loud, abrasive buzzing sounds.
This was the perfect damp yet warm environment for mosquitos, and she had her hand ready to strike if they came to drink from her.
“Oh aye,” Pierre answered, a grand smile unfurling. “There are markings. If someone else hasn’t found it, then there will be something for us.”
He put his arm around her shoulders and pointed to Alister in front, leading them. He annoyingly placed most of his weight on her. “And he wouldn’t look so serious if he didn’t feel it deep in his bones. You can see it, can’t you? He knows there’s something here.”
Rosetta let her eyes drift over him in a more assessing way than before.
His pace was slow, like he was taking extra care to be certain of where they went and how far his steps were.
His eye was narrowed while his dark brows knotted tightly with concentration.
His lips were thinned and slightly pursed, his sight fixed only on what was in front of him.
He didn’t even brush strands of his messy hair from his face when the wind blew them astray.
One of his hands was rubbing the long stubble on his face. She even thought his thumb was brushing over the bottom of the scar that ran under his eye patch.
He does look rather determined.
Her gaze stayed fixed on his eye patch. Rosetta had never seen under it.
On the odd occasion she would try to reach up so she could lift it, he would, what he thought was sneakily, evade her.
He never took it off in her presence, not when they were being intimate, not when he fell asleep next to her – she couldn’t even lift it then, because he’d awaken if she touched his face.
What is under there that he is so concerned about me seeing?
It made her more curious by the day. She wondered if she would ever find out.
Alister stopped, looked at the map in his hand, and started to search around a group of trees. When he found another marking, he took them in a different direction.
“This isn’t the Raider’s trove,” Alister finally concluded, pulling the map away from his sight and shoving it in his pocket.
Now that he was willing to talk, Rosetta came up beside him. “How can you tell?”
He pointed at the cliff wall to their left. “It doesn’t lead to there, to a cave.” Then he shouted to those behind him by dipping his head back. “Looks like you’ll be digging, lads.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” Derek answered, while Pierre just groaned.
Alister’s intuition was spot on. Not even five minutes later, they stopped in front of a small boulder etched with a cross.
Pierre threw one of the shovels at Naeem, who hadn’t been paying attention and got smacked in the torso. He let out a surprised grunt.
“You’ll be helping.”
Naeem chuckled. “Is it because your pissy arms can’t take the workload?”
“That’s not what the girls say in port.” Pierre winked back. “I can lift them up right against the wall. Pin them like paintings.”
Naeem reached forward and patted the man on the shoulder as they walked closer to the boulder. “You’ve got a pretty face, but I bet women are more satisfied after me.”
“Ho ho! Then whip it out, laddie, and we can compare.”
Laughter rang from them both as Derek silently walked with them.
“It’s not about size but how you use it, pretty boy,” Naeem rebuffed.
What is it with men and wanting to compare dick sizes? It didn’t matter who they were or how old they were. She heard it all the time on her ship. So immature. The entire lot of them.
Rosetta had noticed the two men, in their mid-twenties, had somehow bonded over the months. It’d started when she was still on the Howling Death, hunting for the Laughing Siren.
They were forced to interact, considering they were both her and Alister’s first men.
They often picked on each other for things they would punch another person for commenting on. It was a common trait between them, jostling and harassing people for things they couldn’t change or help.
They were both terrible bullies.
It was generally done in jest, but most didn’t appreciate having parts of themselves commented upon, like their weight, their height, their skin colour, their age, especially with Alister’s men missing parts of themselves.
They both started digging while Derek handed Alister the last shovel, and then all four of them were throwing dirt to the side, flinging it around carelessly.
She looked down at her empty hands.
“What do you want me to do then? You only brought four.”
Alister looked up at her, frowning a little in confusion, as though the answer should have been obvious. “Stand there and look elegant. Let us do the digging.”
With an irritated huff, she folded her arms over her chest and stepped out of the way of flinging dirt.
“I’m never elegant.”
A chuckle fell from all of them.
“Aye, I know that, lass.”
“Sing us a tune, my sweet Rose,” Pierre said with extended notes, like he might start singing a ballad. He put a hand over his heart while lifting the other forward.
Although he still made charming remarks like this, she’d realised long ago that he and Alister’s men no longer tried to get into her pants. Pierre was the only one who still did it in jest, but even she knew that’s what it was – a joke.
“You don’t want her to do that,” Naeem commented with a shake of his head. “You’ll regret it.”
“Why?” Pierre asked with much sincerity. “I bet she has a lovely voice.”
“Dig, you lazy dog!” Derek yelled at Pierre, since he’d stopped completely.
To assist, Naeem slapped the blond across the back of the head. Pierre winced.
“She sounds like a drowning cat,” Naeem finally said. Then he frowned after flinging a spade full of dirt behind him, deep in thought. “Actually, I think a drowning cat would sound more pleasurable.”
It might be because Rosetta had never sung softly. She often belted out lyrics on purpose to sound like she wanted to kill men with nothing but her voice.
“Is there anything she can do well?” Pierre asked. “I still think she broke my toes while dancing.”
“Cooking,” Naeem answered.
Alister’s gaze turned up to her with a mischievous smirk. She rolled her eyes at him, and where his obvious thoughts had gone.
Horny bastard.
“How does a noblewoman learn how to cook?” Derek threw in. “Doesn’t sound normal to me.”
Her narrowed gaze fell to Alister, who was paying too much attention to the knee-deep hole to notice. She wasn’t particularly angry at him; she just resented more people knowing about her history than she was comfortable with.
He’d obviously told Derek and Pierre about her past without her consent. She wasn’t pleased about that.
“One who had nothing else to do in a mansion but be bored. I used to help in the kitchen when I was a child, since my mother cooked, and then I helped the maids when I was older.”
Pierre opened his mouth with his head turned to her, probably to ask her more questions.
Alister quickly cut in. “Enough talk. Dig.”
She wondered if he’d saved her from being bombarded by questions on purpose. Then his eye darted up to her face for a second with a serious look, showing he had. She gave him an appreciative smile, and he looked back down once more.
When they were nearly hip height into the hole, one of them slammed their shovel in and a subtle boom echoed. They dug around what they found.
Naeem and Derek climbed out of the hole to reach for the medium-sized wooden chest as Alister and Pierre lifted it up to them. They placed it down a little ways back from the edge of the hole.
Covered in dirt, like it had been sitting beneath the earth for over fifty years, the chest was a modest size, no larger than a man’s torso. Rosetta had been hoping it was bigger.
But at least it isn’t small.
Rosetta came forward to watch Pierre bash repeatedly at the rusted lock with his shovel. Each hit shook off a little more dirt from the chest, revealing more of its design. The lock eventually broke, and he stepped out of the way so Alister could kneel and slowly open it.
They all peeked over his shoulders to see what would be revealed.
Inside were coins of silver, bronze, and gold, with an occasional piece of jewellery, like a necklace or bracelet.
“Aye. How’s that for booty, lass?” The grin Alister gave her was smug. “Glad you stuck with me now?”
“I don’t stay around men for coin, Alister. Otherwise, I would have never left Luxor.” She gave him a bland expression. “The duchy’s treasury was massive compared to this.”
Her lips curled at the scowl he gave. But it’s the truth.
Theodore may have been a cruel man, but he had so much wealth, she could have asked for anything and he could have provided it. Any whim, any request. A gold-plated horse carriage, a thousand doves.
Rosetta had tried to play a game of what ridiculous thing could she ask for before he said it was impossible. He never did, but he often told her no simply because it was ridiculous.
“You sure know how to make a man who just became rich feel poor.” He shook his head, digging his fingers into the coins like he wanted to make sure they were real. “The crew will be pleased to finally have some wages.”
“Aye, they will,” Derek confirmed.
“Both crews,” she said, crouching down to reach inside and grab a handful of coins.
There were more silvers than anything else, which took her by surprise. I thought most chests were filled with gold.
Alister gave her a strange look, one that screamed greed. It was obvious the idea of sharing it wasn’t favourable to him.
Still, he said, very slowly, like the words were forced from him, “Half each.”
“My crew is bigger!” she exclaimed. “I have more men to pay.”
“Half, Rosetta.” The deep tone he gave told her he wouldn’t budge.
She threw the coins back in the chest. “Fine.”
They closed the lid. Naeem and Pierre were the ones instructed to carry the heavy thing back to the beach. While they struggled, Derek walked behind them with two shovels in each hand, watching them closely, as though he wanted to make sure they did a proper job of it.
Rosetta had long ago realised Derek was judgemental and liked to berate Pierre for even the slightest wrongdoing. Considering it was those two together, though, they probably would find a way to mess up carrying a simple, yet weighty, chest.
She fell back to walk beside Alister, who was holding the other two shovels.
“Thank you,” she muttered, watching where she was going instead of looking towards him. She had her hands clasped behind her back. “I don’t like sharing my history.”
“Aye.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see he was nodding. “It’s none of their business.”
She pursed her lips into an irritated pout. “Then why did you tell them?”
She watched as Pierre and Naeem started pulling the chest in opposite directions to make each other trip in jest. Derek raised the shovels above his head and threatened to beat them to death if they didn’t stop.
“It was better if they knew some of the truth.” When he turned his head to her, she turned hers slightly towards him to make sure he understood he had her attention.
“I trust them. They’re good men. They won’t share that information, nor will they truly care what you’ve done. They only care about what you do now.”
“Calling a criminal a good man is an oxymoron, Alister.” She laughed lightly.
He returned it just as softly. “Aye, but they’re good to my crew... and yours now.”
“And what about you?” She already knew the answer; she just wanted to know what he thought about himself.
He looked ahead and away, his expression turning stern and thoughtful.
“Hmm. I am when I must.” His response made it seem like he didn’t always want to be a good man – even to his own men. “I value my crew. I treat those who earn it with the respect they deserve.”
He lifted his hand so he could grab a few locks of her hair as they walked. He started tangling them around his digits, as if he wanted to become ensnared.
“I am neither a good man, nor a bad man. I take what I want, I steal what I want, and I kill who I want. There are those I do not feel the need to kill without reason, those smart enough to surrender to me. It is never mercy, since I’ve often stolen all the supplies they need to survive, but it means I give them the chance.
It’s often because I just don’t see the point. ”
Gently, he lifted his hand to his face to take a quiet, yet sweet, sniff of her hair. Feeling the strands lifting and hearing him want to take in the smell of her, as though he couldn’t help himself, made her stomach clench.
Her skin even prickled on her neck.
How could one simple gesture have her eyes searching for the perfect place to hide, or a boulder at hip level so he could bend her over it?
“Then I am neither a good woman, nor a bad one,” she stated back, turning her face to the side to give him an impish smile. “I kill because I have to, not because I want to.”
“Aye, that I know of,” he chuckled, releasing her hair and giving her a wicked grin. “You’re just like me, lass. Cold-blooded.”
Even though they were almost shoulder to shoulder and walking rather intimately next to each other, he didn’t step away from her when they saw their men.
Cheers rang out from them all, sitting around in the sand, as they came into view.
Alister pointed at four of her eight men. “You lot – you’re riding back with my men.” Then he pointed at her rowboat. “Put the chest in her boat.”
Everyone shared a look of uncertainty between each other before doing as he commanded.
“I don’t understand.” She came up beside him when he started to help her men push her boat into the water.
“You want half? You’re going to work for it.”
He hopped inside, and she realised he was intending to go with it, and her, to the Laughing Siren.