Chapter 25 #3
“The commanding officer of this ship,” the woman shot back.
She lunged again, light on her feet, obviously a formally trained swordswoman, but even one-eyed, Rowan was a force of nature.
He met her next attack with a parry that sent her reeling back, and followed up by drawing his dagger and trapping her blade between both of his own.
A body slammed against the other side of the door, juddering it against Fox’s back, but he held firm.
Were they winning out there? Or had the sailors overwhelmed the Siren’s scrappy crew?
The commander grit her teeth, straining against Rowan’s superior strength.
He forced her back a few steps, toward Fox.
He met Rowan’s eye for the briefest second as the sailors tried to batter down the door behind him.
Rowan forced the commander back another step, and Fox grabbed the back of her jacket, yanking her off balance just enough for Rowan to force her to one knee.
Fox set the edge of his cutlass against her chin, still bracing against the door with his back. Her arms gave way, and Rowan snatched the rapier from her.
“Filthy pirates!” she snarled.
Quiet settled within the room. She squared her shoulders, a silver pin at her lapel glinting.
Her deep maroon uniform was Kefryean, no doubt about it.
He’d thought those defunct after Marra conquered them, but the silvery crossed claymore and unicorn horn stood in sharp contrast to the pin at her other lapel, the golden sun and laurel of Marra.
“You’re the one who attacked us!” Rowan laughed. The gleam of battle had returned to his eye. “Tell me who you are, or my man here will cut your throat.”
Fox wasn’t sure about all that, but he’d probably do it if Rowan asked. They weren’t in much position to carry on a lengthy questioning, what with Fox pulling double duty as both threat and doorstop.
“You will surrender to the might of the Marran Empire,” the commander said, so self-assured that for a moment Fox thought maybe they had stumbled into battle with an empire ship after all.
“We won’t be surrendering to anyone, clearly,” Rowan drawled. His accent always came out more when he was in front of an enemy. It made him sound insolent and roguish. “Least of all that dogshit empire.”
“Have some respect! It’s your home!” The commander seemed almost startled at Rowan’s hatred, but why should she be?
Rowan was a pirate, and the empire had enough gold on his head to buy the Siren three times over.
Besides, this woman looked Kefryean, and she was old enough to have grown up there before the war.
She should hate them as much as Rowan did.
“Being bought for cannon fodder as a child didn’t exactly endear my home to me.
” Rowan set the edge of his cutlass against her cheek.
A strand of white blond hair fell out of its tie, catching in the edge of his eyepatch.
“Now tell me who you are.” The blade moved down to an insignia on her chest. “I’m guessing… colonel?”
“Colonel Selby Baird,” she said between her teeth.
Why did that sound familiar?
“Baird? As in Malcolm Baird?” There was way too much of a glint in Rowan’s eye now. Fox wondered if this was the moment he was supposed to step in and calm him like Logan had said.
Baird’s scowl said Rowan’s guess was right. That explained it somewhat; Malcolm Baird had been the leader of the coup that ended with Kefrye in Marran hands, in return receiving the governorship of his homeland until his recent death.
Rowan cocked his head. “What’s the daughter of the late Kefryean governor doing here? Aren’t you basically royalty? You should at least be a general by now.”
Baird didn’t take the bait. They all knew well enough the Marran Empire didn’t let women into their military. The fact that she was still ranked at all was a testament to both her skill and the power her family had held up until her father’s death.
“Okay, I’ll ask a better question,” Rowan said, knuckles whitening on the sword hilt. “What’s Shaw’s plan?”
Baird twitched. Ah, so they were right—she was working with Shaw. Her jaw jutted stubbornly, and she remained silent.
“Fine, we’ll see how you feel after a few nights in the brig.” Rowan leaned close, the edge of his cutlass sliding against her cheek. “The guy manning the bilge pump is very bad at it. Enjoy.”
Baird’s face screwed up, as if she was imagining what it would be like in the bowels of a pirate ship, up to her ankles in horrendously smelly brackish water and rat turds. If that didn’t get her talking, she was far tougher than Fox.
Then again, they’d have to win this battle and get her over to the Siren first.
Something heavy hit the door, and it slammed open.
Fox collided face first with the wall as sailors barreled into the room.
Rowan shouted something, but Fox couldn’t hear it over the sudden deafening ringing in his head.
He’d managed to keep his cutlass, and he flipped it around now to slam the blade back through the hole in the door pinning him to the wall.
A grunt sounded on the other side, and the pressure on the door let up.
Fox stumbled away, whipping his cutlass toward one of the intruders.
Baird had taken the opportunity to lunge for Rowan, and she now had him pinned against the desk, a cut on her cheek streaming blood down into the collar of her uniform.
Fox kicked the sailor who’d crashed through the door in the back of the knee, and he went down.
He slammed the door into the next sailor’s face, barely hearing the crunch of a broken nose over the muffled ringing in his ears.
Fox whirled back, determined to help Rowan. They had to get out of here. His head felt like someone had stuffed it full of Nephele’s feathers, and they wouldn’t be able to fight off whomever came through that door next.
Rowan was saying something to Baird, his teeth bared in a vicious grin.
He reached back and found an inkwell, bringing it around swiftly to smash against the side of Baird’s head.
It exploded in a shower of glittering crystal, black ink splattering across all of them, mixing with the blood to run in red and black rivulets down Baird’s neck.
She stumbled to the side, and Rowan kicked her down for good measure.
Rowan grabbed Fox’s hand and dragged him out into the chaos on deck again. Fox’s mind took an extra moment to process everything, and he stopped just outside the door, refusing to let go of Rowan’s hand.
“What?” Rowan reached up to touch a spot on Fox’s forehead, sending a jolt of pain straight through Fox’s skull. “Shit, you hit your head,” Rowan said.
Something shifted; maybe it was movement in the corner of Fox’s eye, maybe a change in the sounds of battle.
Fox spun, barely catching an axe blow on his cross guard that was meant for his shoulder.
The sailor’s second axe sliced toward Fox’s stomach, and Rowan dragged him out of the way, both of them stumbling.
The sailor lunged after them. Rowan whirled to block the next blow, keeping Fox behind him.
Fox fought his own spinning head to try to spot anyone else who might be coming at them.
He had to protect Rowan long enough to get back to the Siren.
The sailor growled, and slashed again, blade whistling past Fox’s face as Rowan pushed him out of the way.
Fox righted himself with effort only to find the sailor inches from him.
Fox couldn’t think. His arms felt weak. So he did the only thing his addled brain could cook up.
He hauled back and spit into the sailor’s eye.
The man howled, and Fox took his chance, dodging clumsily to the side and slashing across the man’s ribs.
Nephele’s screech overhead drew their attention. She wheeled above the two ships before diving between the rigging and attacking the next sailor who came near. Gouging at his face with her talons and beating his head with her wings.
“Atta girl!” Rowan whooped.
Hand in hand, Fox and Rowan had almost made it to the rail through the clash of fighting when Baird caught up with them. The side of her face was flecked with blood and ink, ginger hair falling out of its neat bun.
“Surrender,” she snarled.
Rowan took in the battle around them, and Fox realized the pirates were losing. The sailors had beaten them back to the rail just like Rowan and Fox. It was time to cut and run. Hopefully the papers Rowan had stuffed in his pocket would yield whatever information he’d been searching for.
“I don’t surrender.” Rowan pushed Fox onto a plank connecting the two ships and stepped up behind him, keeping one hand on him so he wouldn’t fall.
A piercing whistle split the air, the signal to retreat.
No doubt Logan was watching them from his place of command on the Siren’s quarterdeck.
Pirates swarmed back over the gap to their own ship, but Rowan and Fox stayed where they were, staring Baird down.
“Tell Shaw I’m coming for him.” Rowan’s voice came out low and deadly, sending a shiver up Fox’s spine.
“Capture them!” Baird ordered her men.