Love Aboard the Priam: Chapter Six

Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer. I do not own Twilight.

Chapter Six

Peter’s POV

I reached out and caught her just before she hit the floor, hefting her up and into my arms. I took her to the bed and laid her down, my hands running feverously over her body.

“What would you have me do, Captain?” Randall asked nervously.

“See to it the ship stays guarded,” I snapped.

His footsteps faded away and I concentrated on rousing my Isabella.

Her reaction to the boy’s name was nothing short of strange. Jacob Black was a good sailor, only twenty years of age. His father, Billy Black, had been one of the fiercest pirates alive until he was captured nearly a decade ago. Now, Billy was rotting away in Aro’s dungeon. Still, that didn’t tell me how his son, Jacob, knew my Isabella. Nor did it explain her reaction to his name.

My fingers traced over her cheek and trailed along her jaw bone as I waited for her to open her eyes. I had made twelve passes over her face before her eyes fluttered.

“Isabella,” I breathed, leaning closer.

She moaned softly, her brows drawn together as she shifted slightly. My fingers moved to trail through her hair, brushing the soft mass back from her face.

“What happened?” Isabella mumbled, blinking up at me.

“You fainted, mo chroí, and gave me quite a fright while you were at it,” I accused gently.

“I fainted? I’ve never fainted before in my life,” Isabella gaped, outraged.

“I suppose it’s true what they say then. There is a first time for everything,” I chuckled weakly.

Isabella frowned as she slowly sat up, my arm wrapped around her shoulders to support her. She sighed through her nose before turning her confused gaze on me.

“Why did I faint?” Isabella asked.

“Not sure I can answer that for you. All I said was Jacob Black wanted to see you,” I answered slowly.

Her face paled again and I worried for a minute that she was going to faint again. I shifted closer, my arm tightening as I brought her against my chest.

“J-Jake? But… But he’s dead,” Isabella breathed.

I ignored that part for the time being and focused more on figuring out their relationship.

“How do you know him, Isabella?” I asked, keeping my voice calm.

“His father, Billy, was friends with my father and our mothers were best friends growing up. We spent many days together when we were young. There were times when Jake and his mother would spend days on our ship while Papa and Billy went off to do business. After my mother died, Sarah Black was the only mother figure I had. She died just two years after my mother,” Isabella explained.

“So you grew up together. Why do you think he is dead?” I asked, trying to put the pieces together.

“Because I saw him die,” Isabella whispered, turning haunted eyes on me.

Her blank stare made my heart go cold.

“It was after Papa received his title from King Marcus, but we were in Isopholy at the time. Jake was always bragging of his skills with a sword. One of the courtiers challenged him, believing himself to be superior. The man, Michael Newton, performed poorly. It was clear from the beginning he was trying to actually hurt Jake. Jake was only trying to defend himself, but Michael didn’t move fast enough. Jake killed him. King Aro ordered his execution for murdering a member of the royal court. He was beheaded two days later, without a trial,” Isabella finished, her voice completely flat.

“And you saw it happen?” I clarified.

She nodded, closing her eyes as her body trembled. Without another word, I easily lifted her off the bed and into my lap, holding her close as sobs shook her body.

If someone aboard the other ship was claiming to be Jacob Black, it could only mean one of two things. Either they were ignorant of the boy’s death, as I had been, and hoped to trick us into taking down our guard or they were sending a message. But what message could they hope to send by telling Isabella her dead childhood friend wished to speak with her?

Unless…

“Isabella, I need to speak with Randall. You will remain in the cabin, away from the windows. If you see or hear anything, you scream as loud as you can and I will be here immediately,” I instructed.

“What? Why? What is happening?” Isabella asked, her voice shaking through her tears.

“I’m not sure yet, mo chroí. Just do as I’ve said,” I murmured, kissing her temple.

When I pulled away, her eyes were closed, but a few tears continued to escape. I wiped them away with my thumb, my chest aching painfully as she leaned into my touch.

“I’ll return shortly,” I promised, setting her back on the bed before leaving the room.

I closed the door firmly behind me, my blood racing as I quickly sought out Randall. My heart pounded in time with my feet striding across the deck as I approached him.

“Randall, tell me more about this boy, the one who said his name was Jacob Black,” I demanded.

“Aye, Captain. The one who wants to see the bantiarna. He’s a short lad, for one. None too bright from the looks of him, either. He was fidgety, kept wringing his hands,” Randall frowned.

“And how did he talk?” I asked, the hairs on the back of my neck starting to stand on end.

“Nervous like. Couldn’t hardly spit the words out,” Randall answered.

“His coloring… was he fair?” I asked, slowly backing away from him.

“Fair?” Randall questioned, his brows furrowed as I continued backing away.

“The color of his skin, Randall! Was it fair?” I demanded, hurrying my pace.

“Aye, Captain, as fair as the bantiarna,” Randall agreed, barely finishing before I turned and sprinted back to the cabin.

“Isabella!” I called as I slammed the door open.

The cabin was empty, her name echoing back at me mockingly. Desperate, hoping I was wrong, I searched the cabin, turning over the table, pulling back the bed sheets, throwing my clothes out of the armoire. There was no sign of her.

“NO! No, no, no! RANDALL! GATHER THE MEN!” I screamed, running back on deck.

As the men ran around, preparing to leave port, I watched the ship across the way and cursed whoever was onboard. How could I have let her escape?

Bella’s POV

I glared at the men who were dragging me across the deck of the ship, my tongue pushing against the cloth gag placed in my mouth. The two men who had come in through the window to steal me away lay dead, floating face down in the water by the Priam. These three had been waiting, knowing I would be able to kill the first attack. Once I’d dumped them overboard, one of the three men had snuck out from the shadows and attacked. Unaware of the other two, I had turned my back on the window. A stupid move for someone as experienced as I to make and, as a result, I had been taken.

I kicked out with my feet, trying to throw my captors off balance. They simply laughed and pulled harder on my arms. I bit down against the pain, refusing to make any sound as pain shot through my shoulders.

My hands were tied behind my back and lifted up for them to use as a handle while dragging me across the deck. I leaned my head back, fury thrumming through my veins as I noticed we were approaching the Captain’s quarters.

“Thar ya are, lass. Be nice ta tha Cap’n, now,” one of the men chuckled, throwing me through the door.

I grunted as I landed on my shoulder, breathing furiously through my nose as I straightened up and scanned the room. It was dark with no candles burning and the curtains drawn across the windows. I knew I wouldn’t have been able to see my hand in front of my face, if they’d been free for me to do so.

The lack of light made me nervous, for I wouldn’t be able to see the strike coming. The utter silence of the cabin fed my fears as I waited for the Captain to make himself known.

“Isabella Swan. I’m not sure I would’ve believed it if I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes,” a deceptively calm voice spoke.

I froze, my ears straining to pick out where the voice came from.

“My, my but you are a sight. But then, who would expect less from Renee Swan?” the voice mocked.

I swallowed reflexively, sweat beginning to bead along my brow. Who was this man and how did he know my mother?

“Charlie’s done well, keeping you out of the eyes of the fold. He should have kept you safe on land,” the man sneered.

I started in surprise. No one but my mother and the Blacks had ever called my father Charlie. Not even Eleazar.

A rough, calloused hand cupped my jaw, holding fast when I tried to jerk away.

“Ah, ah. None of that, now. Let me have a look at my new bride,” the man tisked.

A cold feeling of dread settled over me as Peter’s words played across my mind.

You are to be my wife.

Why were these men, whom I’d never met, so interested in securing my hand in marriage? Peter claimed to love me, but… was it all a farce? Had he been lying to me? Why?

Anger flared as my thoughts continued and I reared back and kicked out at the man breathing in my ear. My heel landed on his soft stomach, causing him to double over and gasp for air.

“Whorish wench,” the man gasped.

I scooted back as far as I could until I hit a wall. Using the sturdy structure as leverage, I managed to get myself to my feet. With my hands bound behind my back, though, there was little I could do to escape.

I frantically searched in the dark, knowing I had little time before he stood up and came after me. Tears started to form as I continuously ran into things. I was alerting him to exactly where I was, but I was powerless to do anything about it.

Just as my hands fumbled across the desk in search of something sharp to use, my upper arms were grasped and I was jerked forward.

“You’ll pay for that, you bitch,” the man growled.

His breath smelled of stale ale, the scent making my stomach roll as he slapped me across my face. The force of his blow sent me tumbling to the floor, a muffled cry pressing against the gag. A pair of legs quickly straddled me before I could attempt to stand. His hands gripped my arms hard as he turned me onto my back.

“Such pretty breasts,” he hummed, his hands squeezing them through my thin gown.

I winced against the bruising grip, my teeth digging into the gag to keep from crying out.

“Hmm. You like that, striapaigh? Mm-hmm. I know you do. And you’ll like it even more when I suck those pretty little pearls into my mouth while my cock rams that tight cunt of yours,” he growled, his hips moving against me.

Tears prickled behind my lids as I squeezed my eyes shut against the vulgar language. Everything within me called for Peter, begging him to come for me.

The door to the cabin was suddenly flung open, casting moonlight into the small space. A frantic looking sailor came in, his movements jerky in his excitement, but my attention was on the man keeping me pinned to the floor.

His blond hair was cut short, revealing a scar along his scalp that stretched from the middle of his forehead to behind his right ear. His blue eyes looked practically white in the light of the moon, making him appear demonic and possessed. His thin lips were lifted in a sneer as he faced the member of his crew, his crooked nose crinkled in anger. The arms that had me pinned down were strong, but not nearly as defined as Peter’s. He was thin and tall, but his body lacked the muscle developed from years of hard work.

“Captain! The Priam is leaving port!” the young man in the doorway exclaimed.

Dread settled over me faster than lightning and I wished to truly die in that moment. Peter wasn’t going to come for me.

“Leave us!” the Captain snapped

The tears fell freely and without my consent as the man above me turned with an evil smile just before the door closed, surrounding us in darkness again.

“Do you hear that, striapaigh? Captain Whitlock is surrendering you to me. You belong to me,” the man grinned darkly.

I shuddered beneath him, repulsed when he closed his eyes and moaned softly. His hips shifted against me and I sobbed against the feel of his arousal.

“Spread those legs for me, striapaigh. I want to feel how wet I make you,” he murmured, his hands sliding beneath my skirt.

His palms bruised along my hips as he forced them apart, his fingers delving beneath my undergarments. I winced as his fingers pushed inside of me, despite the lack of response he had gained from my body. The burning sensation was a welcome relief to the betrayal that tightened my chest.

“Shall I remove the gag, Isabella? I want to hear you scream as I rip open this pretty little-“

He cut off with a grunt before his weight fell on top of me. I sobbed, struggling to get away from him when a different pair of hands grabbed me. I spun, trying to ward off their attack, screaming ineffectively through the gag.

“Bantiarna! Bantiarna, it is I!” Randall cried softly, reaching out to pull me against him.

I shivered as he held me against his chest, my body sagging in relief.

Peter hadn’t left me.

“Hush now, a leanbh. I’ve got ya,” Randall soothed, removing the gag.

“Randall! I thought he had left me,” I sobbed as he quickly cut through my bindings.

“The Captain would never let ya go that easily, bantiarna,” Randall assured me, hugging me close again.

I couldn’t seem to stop shivering and pressed closer into his embrace. My arms wrapped around his waist as I buried my face into his chest.

“Come now. We must move quickly,” Randall insisted, pulling me towards the windows.

He stuck his head out the window, glancing around before coming back inside.

“I’m gonna to lower you out. There’s a dinghy beneath you. Vladimir will catch you,” Randall whispered.

I nodded in understanding, swallowing down any uncertainties as he helped me climb through the window. He kept a hold of my hands until I was dangling above the water.

“Drop her,” Vladimir hissed.

“Don’t scream,” Randall warned before releasing me.

I managed to keep the scream in, but only just barely. Vladimir caught me against his chest, the small dinghy rocking very little as he settled me down in front of him.

“Go! Quickly!” Randall called softly before disappearing back into the cabin.

“Wait! Where’s he going?” I asked as Vladimir began rowing.

“He’s gone to help the Capt’n and the crew,” Vladimir answered with a jerk of his chin.

“They’re onboard?” I asked nervously, twisting to watch the vessel as Vladimir steered us towards the Priam.

“Aye. The Capt’n don’t take none too lightly people stealin’ what belongs to him,” Vladimir scowled.

“But that man. He said the Priam was leaving port,” I frowned.

“Diversion,” Vladimir grunted.

I bit my lip, but refrained from saying anything else as he continued to row us towards where the Priam sat anchored. Vladimir rowed right up to the side of the ship, whistling shrilly. A rope ladder was thrown overboard and he caught it deftly.

“Climb up, lass,” Vladimir insisted.

I moved over to the ladder, gripping the rope tightly as I began climbing. My limbs were shaking as I struggled to continue upward.

“There ya are, bantiarna. I’ve got ya,” Vasilii said, pulling me onto the deck.

I collapsed against him, my shaking starting up again.

“You’re safe, lass,” Vasilii murmured, patting my back gently.

“Take her inside and see to it she doesn’t have any injuries,” Vladimir instructed as he climbed over the railing behind me.

“Can ya walk, bantiarna?” Vasilii asked.

I shook my head, knowing my trembling knees would be unable to hold me up for the short walk to the cabin. Without another word, Vasilii lifted me into his arms and strode across the deck. I buried my face into his neck, terrified of the shadows that surrounded us.

“Easy, a leanbh. I’ve got ya,” Vasilii hushed, carrying me into the cabin.

He set me down in the chair before lighting the candles. My eyes scanned the cabin frantically, searching for men who weren’t there.

“Bantiarna? Are you hurt?” Vasilii asked, kneeling in front of me.

I shook my head, head bowed to avoid his stare.

“Are you sure? He didn’t hurt you?” Vasilii asked again, resting his hand on my knee.

I bit my lip, shaking my head once more.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Vasilii requested gently.

“They… they came in here. Two of them. I managed to get Peter’s spare sword and kill them, but there was another. While he distracted me, two more climbed through. They put a gag in my mouth and tied my hands behind my back,” I started, my voice hoarse.

“What else, bantiarna?” Vasilii pressed.

“They dragged me onto the other ship and threw me into the Captain’s cabin. It was… dark. So dark. I c-couldn’t see anything. And then… he-he started talking. He was… he was going to… to…” I gasped.

“Shh, bantiarna. You’re safe. He can’t get to ya,” Vasilii murmured, taking my hand.

I nodded jerkily, struggling to hold back my sobs.

“The Capt’n is on his way back,” Vladimir announced as he came into the cabin.

I sniffled as I looked up at him, surprised to see him carrying a bowl.

“Ya need to eat somethin’, lass,” Vladimir insisted, placing the steaming bowl of soup in front of me.

“I’m not really-“ I started.

“Eat, bantiarna. Ya need it,” Vasilii interrupted.

I nodded weakly, lifted the spoon, and slowly began eating the contents of the bowl. The salty cream soothed my throat and warmed me from the inside. Eager for the heat, I continued slurping, soothed by Vasilii and Vladimir’s quiet tones, until the cabin door banged open and Peter came rushing in.

“Isabella! Are you alright?” Peter asked, scooping me into his arms.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, my entire being relaxing as his hands frantically searched for any signs of damage.

With a tortured groan, I was pulled back against his chest, his face buried in my hair. I clung to him just as desperately, battling the returning tears.

“Mo chroí, did he hurt you?” Peter asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

I shook my head, my eyes closed as I tried to block out everything but the safety of his arms around me. Peter breathed a sigh of relief into my hair, his arms tightening slightly in response.

“Captain, I need to have a word with ya,” Vasilii mumbled.

“Aye. I’ll be right there,” Peter replied, making no move to release me.

I heard the door close and tried to press closer to him.

“Who was he?” I asked quietly.

“Phil Dwyer, Captain of the Sea Serpent,” Peter growled.

“Why did he… What did he want?” I asked.

“I didn’t really stop to ask questions, mo chroí,” Peter chuckled darkly.

“Is he…” I trailed off uncertainly.

“Yes,” Peter hissed angrily.

“Oh.”

“I told you I would kill anyone who dared try to take you from me,” Peter reminded me.

I nodded, unable to think of an appropriate response.

“Why don’t we try to get some sleep? We’re leaving port tonight. I don’t trust the area,” Peter frowned.

I nodded again, a yawn escaping as I thought about sleep.

“I’ll leave you to change, shall I?” Peter offered, leaning back to kiss me sweetly.

I bit my lip as he left, my nerves returning as soon as the door clicked shut behind him. I ran over to my trunk and began frantically changing into my shift for bed. My eyes were constantly drawn to the dark shadows of the cabin, waiting for someone to jump out and attack.

When I was finally dressed, I hurried to the door jerking it open. I expected to see Peter standing in the hallway, but it was empty except for the shadows.

Unnerved by the darkness, I slipped back inside, leaning against the door. My heart was pounding in my chest and the shivering returned as I watched the room. My fingers ached to grip my sword, knowing it would at least offer some defense.

Slowly, watching the shadows the entire time, I slid along the wall until I was huddled in the corner, hidden by Peter’s armoire. I lowered myself down so I was sitting, my knees clutched to my chest while I waited for Peter to return.

It seemed to be an eternity and the shadows mocked me for my fear. The slightest noise sent my heart flying. Terrified of what I couldn’t see, I buried my face in my arms, trying to block out the demons.

The creak of the door opening had me jerking up, terrified of having been found.

“Isabella?” Peter called, a slightly panicked note in his voice.

“Peter,” I croaked, pushing to my feet and hurrying towards him.

He took in a deep breath, his eyes closing, as he caught me against him.

“Why were you in the corner, mo chroí?” Peter asked softly,

“No one could sneak up on me,” I mumbled, my face pressed against his chest.

“You’re completely safe, mo chroí. We are already well out of port and quickly losing sight of land,” Peter assured me.

“It was dark,” I whispered, hating myself for sounding so foolish.

Peter only murmured softly, his lips trailing along my temple. I tilted my head back, giving him more access as his lips passed along my cheeks, eyelids, and jawline. My fingers gripped his shirt, holding him as close as possible.

“I will never let someone take you from me again,” Peter vowed.

Before I could so much as open my mouth to respond, his lips were on mine, hungrily taking possession. My fingers moved to thread through his hair, holding him against me. His arms snaked around my waist, lifting me easily and carrying me to the bed. I sighed happily as he settled over me, his weight a reminder that I was safe in his arms.

As his lips began trailing down my neck, one of his hands traveled over my hip before sliding up to cup my breast. His hand gripped the mound lightly, but I still winced.

“Isabella?” Peter asked, concerned, easing his grip until his hand was just resting over the tender area.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, tears making my vision blurry.

Frowning deeply, Peter gripped the bottom of my shift and lifted until the garment was off. His eyes scanned my body, his fingers trailing along the bruises that were forming. I watched him, uncertainty thrumming through me as his eyes darkened considerably.

“I wish I could bring him back to life, just so I could kill him again,” Peter rumbled, leaning down to kiss the fingerprints around my breast.

Tears spilled down my temples, pooling in my hair as Peter moved purposefully across my body, kissing each bruise. I bit my lip to keep the sobs from breaking free, but my body still trembled under his pursuit.

“I love you, mo chroí, and I hate that bastard for even thinking about touching you,” Peter sighed, stretching back up to look me in the eye.

I closed my eyes, unable to handle the flood of emotion that threatened to drag me under.

“I will protect you, Isabella. And damn anyone who gets in my way.”