Chapter 3
Alister watched on as the Laughing Siren came to a halt next to one of the empty docks in Tortaya’s port.
He was currently waiting in the bay before he steered the Howling Death onto the other side of the same boardwalk.
A grim expression had been permanently affixed to his face from the moment he saw land on the horizon. It had nothing to do with the location, and everything to do with the fact that he had reached land at all.
Land was filled with people – strangers he’d constantly have to keep his only working eye on.
Horrible dangers would be lurking in the shadows, hidden behind the laughter and music of happy people. Just how large was the bounty on his head now? Would Rosetta’s desire to make port be the reason Alister lost his life?
He’d never told her that was one of the reasons he was apprehensive. He wasn’t afraid, nor did he fear the possibility of his own death, but he’d also just like to avoid it like most.
No, Alister just hated land and didn’t want to be on it for many reasons. He owned the sea. It was a wild element not many could tame, and yet, he had. He was a king of the ocean. On land, he was nothing but a man. A dangerous, vicious man, but a nobody, nonetheless.
There would be just as many heartless and callous pirates on these shores, those they should all be wary of.
The only thing that bolstered him was the knowledge that if they recognised who he was, even they would be afraid of him.
Afraid of the Bloody Storm of the Seas and his men, known for doing vile things to those who tried to hurt them.
He removed one hand from the helm to look down at his calloused palm. His hands hadn’t been clean of blood the last time he’d pushed off from these shores. He clenched his fist until his knuckles went white. Then he turned his sight to the city of Tortaya with a malicious smirk.
He hoped someone would try to kill him today.
All he needed was one man to try while he was sitting down to relax, and he would shank him with a dagger in the gut.
The bartenders and owners of their taverns would know him; he’d been here often enough. They would also know not to get in the way or he would turn his knife on them. After that, most who weren’t aware of who he was would be too afraid to even look at him.
Only those brave enough to murder in front of others, rather than in the shadows, were the ones criminals and bandits feared.
Even though this was an island of loose laws, they still had them.
To kill so openly showed he had no fear of repercussions.
It proved he had the strength and protection to do whatever he wanted, and no one could stop him.
The permanent citizens would remember him, perhaps not by name, but at least by face. They would stay clear of him.
It’s the pesky water rats I need to watch. The other sailors who were new here.
He’d told Rosetta to keep her mouth shut about the depth of their current partnership on the sea and that she was sailing next to him. Some idiotic bounty hunter could try to use her to cut his head off, and he’d had to explain to the poor woman that he cared for his life more than hers.
If anyone saw them, he hoped they thought they were merely people who knew each other, spending part of their time on shore together. They’d sailed from different angles towards the port for a reason.
Her reaction hadn’t been pleasant.
“Why would I want to tell anyone I’m connected to you?” she’d sneered before rolling her eyes. Hurtful lass.
Perhaps he should have kept his mouth shut. Should have known she was smart enough to know the bounty on our heads could affect her.
Still, her words made him feel like he was the shameful problem, rather than the bounty.
Through his spyglass, he confirmed the Laughing Siren was secure, so Alister called out his commands, telling his men they were going to sail into the harbour rather than continue waiting in the bay.
It took an experienced sailor to man the helm while docking. Even a small margin of error could have him crashing into the dock, rather than coming alongside.
Alister never allowed anyone else to do it.
He gave the command to strike sail and throw the lines as the Howling Death glided to a stop, and his crew heaved her in until she rested snug in her slip. Then they slid a wide gangplank from his ship onto the dock so they could walk freely to and from it.
Upon stepping from his ship, Alister paid the main dock hand for the space. No record of their docking was taken down. The last thing Alister wanted was a paper trail of his whereabouts, unless it was in his own captain’s log he kept.
They were at the end of the pier where there were no people, but he could see them in the distance, emptying their own ships or stocking them.
From the side of the gangplank, he started calling out commands to move the raided cargo to a certain location so they could sell the smaller, less valuable items at a stall.
The bigger items remained on the ship; they would bring buyers to view them when there was interest. All the jewellery he had would be kept in the safe until he located a good buyer.
Behind him, Naeem was calling out similar commands; the Laughing Siren had been ferrying the cargo Alister hadn’t wanted to waste space carrying but was still worth some coin.
Alister was suddenly struck by the thought, Why is the first mate the one instructing the men?
With a frown, he grabbed Naeem’s shoulder to turn him slightly. “Where’s Rosetta?”
As the captain, she should’ve been the one calling out demands. His gaze drifted over her large ship to find her, but she wasn’t there.
“She’s gone for a walk.”
His head whipped to the side to look over the busy crowd of people near the port, as though they wanted to clutter it and be in the way. The area was bustling, the chatter a loud roar as seagulls squawked like they wanted to join in.
“By herself?”
“She had some business to attend to while we were busy.” Naeem gave a shrug, as though he didn’t care she was alone in a place like this. “Said she should be back in the next hour or two.”
His lips thinned into agitated lines as he gritted his teeth. Damn that woman. He should have known there was a reason she wanted to dock before him.
“How long ago?”
“As soon as we threw our lines.” Naeem chuckled, patting Alister on the shoulder. “We hadn’t even set down our gangplank and anchors before she was gone.”
Bloody hell! It was likely she’d jumped from her ship while it was still moving.
“And you didn’t think to stop her?”
Naeem’s smile grew brighter with humour, his brown eyes twinkling. “Thought you would have learned by now – no one can tell her what to do.”
What is she up to? What was so important she hadn’t told Alister, or couldn’t wait to take any of her men with her? Is this the reason she really wanted to make port?
Sometimes, he couldn’t make head nor tail of her. She’s lucky she’s got such a pretty face. Otherwise, he doubted he’d be able to tolerate her shit like he did.
Then again, he’d seen prettier women, and he’d never tolerated them even marginally compared to the extent he did with her.
Rosetta stepped to the side as she narrowly avoided being knocked over by two drunk men, arm in arm, staggering in the busy street. It seemed they were trying to help each other walk, as if they couldn’t do it by themselves.
Two halves make a whole idiot. She laughed quietly to herself as she watched them.
She passed tavern after tavern, hotel after hotel, all along the most popular street. This island was so large it couldn’t be walked from one side to the other in a day. It would take at least two on foot, not that she had ever attempted to traverse it that way.
Despite the size, only the town right next to port was used. The rest of it was housing for those who lived here, hidden by trees and hills.
The road was made of broken cobblestones, bricks, and dirt.
It was riddled with potholes – no doubt one of the reasons there were barely any carriages or horses in sight.
However, those who did use them were generally people who lived the furthest away and had the most money on this relatively poor island.
The fronts of brick buildings had wooden porches, many leading to taverns with saloon doors.
The wooden railings were patchy in colour, needing to be replaced regularly due to drunk tomfoolery breaking them, such as a fat man trying to right himself, a man trying to take a woman over them, or a brawl launching someone through them.
Already drunk women and men loitered around, a normal occurrence for a sunny Monday morning in Tortaya.
Loud, discordant singing filled the area. The addition of chatter, laughter, yelling, and screaming made hearing anything clearly nigh on impossible. The sound of a gun being fired made heads turn, but no one seemed to care.
Rosetta watched a man fall, and then came the struggle of a woman trying to help him back to his feet by tugging on his elbow.
Turning her head towards a familiar noise, she saw a man taking a woman against the wall down the side of two buildings crowded closely together, his lowered pants threatening to fall past his knees.
His partner seemed to be enjoying herself, enthusiastically bucking back into him with loud cries.
Rosetta thought the man sounded like a grunting bear, but neither seemed bothered they were outside in the middle of the day.
“Get back here, you no-good, rotten cheater!” a man yelled at another as they ran past her. One was holding a cleaver and giving chase, while the other looked rather afraid, a handful of coins in his hand.
She had to duck out of the way when an intoxicated man was thrown out of a tavern face-first into the dirt. “And stay out!”
Rosetta was sure the man would find himself back inside at some point, regardless of the threat.