The Unwanted Brothers Read online

  Henry stood his ground. “I would see the nipperkin punished first.”

  “No,” Fenton replied. “You forfeit that right when you slew the Lord Crayfish’s property without leave. Now, take your girl and go. Unless, of course, you would rather be tied to the masts with what remains of your former crew?”

  Henry glowered at Fenton and shrugged free of the guards. Leaving, he stopped only to jerk Chidi to her feet and drag her behind him toward the guesthouses.

  Fenton waited until both had gone before continuing. “Declan?”

  “Aye, boss?”

  “Has Racer’s father been taken into your charge?”

  “Not yet,” said Declan. “Sent some men to fetch him from the oyster fields already. Should be here soon.”

  “Very good,” said Fenton. “See him brought to the gallows at first light.”

  The gallows. Lenny swallowed hard as his father nodded in acknowledgment.

  Fenton again addressed the crowd. “All of you know full well the penalty for runaways. Each of you has been brought here to serve a purpose. To shirk your duty and abandon your fellows and loved ones is to sentence them with death. Even one so young as Racer knew the consequences of such an act. Beneath our Lord Master’s protection, the boy swore the words before he was sent out. Should any slave not return—”

  “Let my loved ones pay the price,” the crowd echoed as one.

  Fenton nodded. “Tomorrow, the father will hang for the son’s crime. Let this be a lesson to you all.”

  My crime. Lenny thought. Not his. It was my idea to turn them all loose. Lenny glanced at Declan, studied his features that he knew by heart, imagining Declan being led to the gallows in his place. What’ve I done, Pop?

  “Ellie Briceño,” Fenton continued. “Paulo Varela. Your lack of vigilance allowed one of your Lord Master’s slaves to escape. The penalty is twenty lashes.” Fenton glanced away. “Taskmasters, to your work.”

  Lenny shifted. No . . . he thought. It’s not their fault!

  The chains of his crewmates rattled as they maneuvered themselves to look on a pair of Selkie men emerging from the crowd, freeing the loose ends of their whips from their coils. They paced ten feet away from Ellie and Paulo and stood their ground.

  Paulo called out. “Boss Fenton. I’ll take it all, sir. Both my penalty and Ellie’s.”

  Lenny shrank, even as he Ellie protested Paulo’s claim.

  The old overseer’s eyes squinted at Paulo. “And what, may I ask, could inspire such a noble gesture?”

  He loves her. Lenny knew. Idiot that he is.

  Paulo stood resolute. “Not noble, sir. It’s my fault. I told Oscar we needed Lenny’s help the night Racer got away. If we hadn’t called Lenny inside, Ellie wouldn’t have been left alone with Racer outside. It’s my fault, boss,” he pled with Fenton. “Let me take the punishment.”

  Lenny gathered that Fenton knew Paulo was lying then. Still, the old overseer nodded to his taskmasters.

  Oscar stepped forward before the punishment could be doled out. “No, Fenton! That’s not how it works. Paulo can’t decide to take her faults on. Ellie was the one outside. She should’ve known better than to turn her back on Racer.”

  Fenton cleared his throat. “Master Oscar—”

  “I said no.” He wheeled on Fenton. “My father owns you too, slave. That means I own you. Do as I command, else I’ll have you take on both their punishments and then some.”

  Lenny cursed Oscar when the old overseer wilted before the little beast.

  Fenton lifted his gnarled hand then let it fall. The twin cracking of whips came instantly.

  Lenny winced as Ellie howled and hugged the mast, a thin line of red streaking across her back.

  “Leave her alone!” Paulo shouted as the whips lashed again.

  Lenny’s wrists and ankles pulled at the edges of his wooden confines. Paulie, what’re you doing? He wondered, watching from afar as the brute tried to lean himself nearer to Ellie and shield her from the blows. The chains halted Paulo’s goal and he grunted as the whips cracked a third time, lashing him again.

  “Harder,” Oscar ordered the taskmasters.

  Another crack and Ellie cried out again.

  Paulo stood on his tiptoes. The move allowed him to bend his wrists, grab the chains. His face turned red as another lash called sealskin and blood from his back. Lenny gasped along with the crowd as the product of slave owner selection inched forward, blood running from his wrists down his arms.

  The mast top quivered.

  “F-Fenton,” said Oscar. “What’s he doing?”

  Lenny noted the aged overseer’s mouth hung open as the whips sounded anew.

  Paulo’s face turned purple when Ellie cried out again. His shoulders trembled and he released a feral roar that Lenny swore Bostonians could hear on the mainland.

  The mast top shook and then leaned.

  Paulo’s chains laxed and he fell across Ellie, shielding her with his girth. His back shuddered, a crisscrossed maze of red rising and falling in wait for the next blows to fall.

  Save for the sobbing of Ellie and Paulo’s mother, Lenny had never heard Crayfish Cavern so silent. Son of a sea cook, Paulie. Lenny marveled at the tipped mast. His astonishment vanished when Oscar strode toward the taskmasters.

  “Lay on!” Oscar screamed. “What are you standing there for? I said lay on!”

  “No . . .” said Fenton quietly. “The punishment already given them will suffice.”

  Oscar shook his head. “When my father hears this . . .”

  Fenton glanced at the mast. “I shall personally inform him of my decision, young master. Surely your father would not wish such an incredible beast ruined by more lashings.” He whistled at the taskmasters. “Free them both and see them well attended, especially the bull. I warrant these two will make a fine pair for breeding. Their offspring should fetch our Lord Master quite a fortune.”

  Lenny was shaking as they released Paulo from his chains. His crewmate remained conscious, though he leaned heavily on the taskmasters as they led him away.

  Ellie stood without help once she was released.

  Lenny thanked the Ancients for that little mercy, even as she cast a sad glance at him before she too was led away. Take care of him, Elle.

  “Now it’s your turn, nipperkin . . . ”

  Lenny turned back to find Oscar staring him down. I should’ve killed you the first chance I got. Lenny thought of his young owner. And Henry too. Then we’d all be out there, free and safe.

  His conscience argued the counterpoint. But then it’d have been Pop in my place . . . Paulie’s ma and some poor schmuck hanging in place of Ellie too.

  “Fenton,” Oscar crowed. “I want that nipperkin punished now!”

  For all his hard dealings over the years, the look in Fenton’s gaze told Lenny he took no joy in that to come. “Captain Dolan, you’ve been accused of freeing your crewmates.”

  “Aye,” Oscar interrupted. “And for releasing more than a few new slaves I caught for Father too!”

  Fenton continued. “Do you deny these accusations?” he asked.

  “Aye,” said Lenny. “Why would I let anyone go? To come back and see my friends whipped for it? To have ya punish me too? Why would I come back if I did any of that?”

  “You sniveling little liar.” Oscar said. “He did it, Fenton. He planned it all! I say he’s guilty.”

  Fenton shrugged. “And I can find no fault in Captain Dolan’s reasoning. To my mind, Lenny completed the task your father set him and brought several new slaves. The same twenty lashes will suffice.”

  “No,” said Oscar. “My father said we were captains, but the others always followed his commands instead of mine. They loved him more than me. I saw it in their faces, Fenton. They would follow him anywhere. I know they obeyed him in this too!”

  Fenton nodded. “As any crew should for a worthy captain.”

  Oscar scoffed. “Worthy? You call him worthy after what he’s done?�
�� He glared at Lenny, pointing. “He planned it, Fenton! He’s always planning something. I want him punished!” Spittle flew from Oscar’s mouth. “Not locked in the stocks. Not twenty, not even one hundred lashes.”

  Fenton cocked an eyebrow. “And what, pray tell, would you deem a worthy punishment instead, Master Oscar?”

  Lenny glared at his young owner, a devilish gleam in Oscar’s eyes.

  “I will see his little feet dance in the air as he pulls at the rope, begging for one last breath,” said Oscar. “I want him hanged!”

  Lenny watched Fenton weigh the option of continuing his argument.

  The overseer’s shoulders sagged at the last, Oscar’s continued antics warning he would not be bought off easily. “Very well,” Fenton sighed. “We will let the Ancients decide his guilt or innocence. Aye, Lenny Dolan will hang . . . ”

  Oscar grinned smugly.

  “ . . . but not by the neck.”

  Lenny’s face paled.

  “What are you playing at, Fenton?” Oscar asked. “That’s the only way to hang a slave.”

  “No, young master,” said the old overseer. “There is another way.”

  6

  CHIDI

  Henry shoved Chidi across the threshold of the guest quarters lent to them.

  She retreated into the corner while her owner paced the floor, raging in French of the terrible things he would do if Lenny Dolan were in his charge. For now, she remained silent, fearing Henry’s fury would only heighten when she relayed the message the half-blooded Nomad, Ishmael, ordered her give.

  Henry plucked the cork stopper from a rust-hued bottle of grog and tossed it. He placed the lip to his mouth and upended it.

  Chidi listened to him guzzle it down. She had rarely seen him drink, but when he did . . .

  She recalled with distinct clarity it wouldn’t be long before he looked to her as an outlet for his madness. Her eyes searched the room for a place to hide. A door to wedge behind until Henry tired or passed out from the liquor.

  The bottle shattering on the driftwood floor made her jump. She spun and caught Henry leering at her. He wiped the last traces of alcohol from his lips with the back of his hand and started toward her. Please, no . . . not again.

  A knock came at the door and it opened without the guest waiting for an answer. Tieran stood in the entryway. He grinned slyly. “This a bad time?”

  “Oui,” said Henry. “Get out.”

  Tieran strolled in anyway. “Sorry, mate. Just come from the testing pit, I have. Impressive new lot you and the nipperkin brought back.” Tieran helped himself to the liquor stores and poured a shot. “I’ll warrant they’ll fatten all our purses tomorrow. Might even be one or two make it a month on the reef circuits.”

  Tieran took the shot down easily, then poured himself another. “I’ve come to pick up those extra suits you brought back.”

  “Buy,” said Henry.

  “Sorry?”

  “You’ve come to buy the suits. Not pick up.”

  Tieran feigned offense as he took the second shot. “What do you take me for, Henry? Always been fair with the trade, I have. So come on, let’s see ‘em.”

  Chidi slid away to the opposite wall as Henry took the three hooded suits off the bed and unrolled them across the dining table. Tieran picked up the silvery suit first, a twin to the hooded garment Henry wore.

  “A Leper suit, eh,” said Tieran, unfolding the suit to inspect it. “Don’t see these much outside the capital. Who’d you kill for it?”

  Henry’s eyes narrowed at the question.

  Tieran chuckled nervously. “Meaning no offense, mate,” he said. “Don’t matter to ol’ Tieran where you got it, now does it? How much you want for it?”

  “A thousand,” said Henry.

  Tieran whistled. “A pretty price for a pretty suit, that is. Don’t suppose you’d do four hundred and I’ll toss in this ol’ thing?” Tieran tugged at his own Common Seal hood, worn and ragged.

  Henry stepped closer. “A thousand.”

  “All right, all right.” Tieran backed away. “No need to get nasty. Can’t blame ol’ Tieran for trying now, can you? As it happens, I know just the pup for this coat. With a suit like this, he’s sure to earn his keep.” Tieran give a sideways glance to the other two suits, both of them the same tannish color of Sea Lion sealskin. “How much for them two? Pair a Lions, yeah?”

  The thought crossed Chidi's mind to mention both already belonged to the Crayfish. One had been Racer’s, the other Chidi remained certain Henry had picked up after she had escaped at the jail.

  “Four hundred,” said Henry. “Each.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, mate. But it’s your lucky day.” Tieran removed a leather pouch from his waist, untied it, and reached in. He produced a handful of coins and pocketed them. Then he tossed the pouch to Henry. Chidi listened to the doubloons jangle against one another as her owner caught it.

  Henry eyed Tieran skeptically. “Lucky day? How so?”

  Tieran grinned. “His lordship told me to pay whatever you asked. Told me to keep the lot left over. Guess it’s both our lucky day, eh?”

  Henry sneered. “Give me the rest.”

  “That’s not how deals work, mate,” said Tieran, as he gathered up the suits. “’Specially not down here. I’ll give you another tip though. Only seems fair after what you done for me.” Tieran jiggled his pocket to make the coins rattle. “You’d do well to take what monies you still got, that lass a yours, and light outta here while you both still got suits on your backs.”

  “Why?” Henry asked.

  Tieran nodded at Chidi. “Your girl’s a beaut, she is. Nomads round these parts are known for ravaging pretty lil’ Silkies they fancy. You got one of the worst with his mind made up on having her.”

  “Ishmael . . .” Chidi whispered.

  “Aye,” said Tieran. “Champion of the reef circuit pits, he is. Won me a fair bit a coin when I bet on him in the capital arena too. He’s one a them Bull Sharks. Their lot’s worse than Whites, to my mind. Whites are bigger, sure, but pound for pound, there’s nothing like a Bull in a fight.”

  “Have you ever been in a fight?” asked Henry.

  “Mostly bet on ‘em,” said Tieran. “That’s what I do. Done all right for meself too, I don’t mind saying it. So you can believe it when ol’ Tieran tells you, there’s no Bull like Ishmael neither. I heard it said the Nomads took him as one of their own, even on account of his Merrow mother’s blood. They call him Red Water. Don’t have to be a smart one to figger why. After you done seen one of his fights, it’s all that left behind.”

  Chidi thought on the scars Ishmael had shown her. She glanced at Henry, knew him smart enough to recognize he would be outmatched in a bout with a Salt Child like Ishmael.

  Tieran continued. “Anyway, run into him on the way over, I did. Said he gave your lil’ bird a message for you. Told me to give you the same if’n I saw you first. Says he’ll be taking her off your hands, mate. Next time he sees you, that is.”

  Chidi shivered.

  Tieran noticed. “Might be I’d be willing to spare you the trouble and run her over to him, if you like, Henry. If the price is right, that is.”

  “Where is he now?” Henry asked. “Ishmael?”

  “On his way up to the Lord Master’s mansion, I’d guess. The Crayfish loves to entertain his guests the night ‘fore an auction, especially the ones what are here to buy. Him and all the rest always want to see the new lots fight ‘fore they pay. Blood ‘em early, that’s what the Crayfish’ll tell ol’ Tieran tomorrow. Anything to drive up excitement and the price with it.” Tieran laughed. “You’ll be staying for the auction too, I expect. Won’t you?”

  Why does he care? Chidi wondered. She thought the Crayfish’s auctioneer seemed jittery when Henry did not answer.

  Tieran stepped to the threshold, paused. “I take it you won’t have me escort your lil’ bird to Ishmael then?”

  Henry threw the empty bottle of grog in
answer, missing Tieran’s head by an inch.

  “Right then,” Tieran ducked away. “Can’t blame ol’ Tieran for trying now, can you?”

  Chidi hated the way the Crayfish’s auctioneer looked on her before closing the door. A man like that knew only greed, she knew, and Chidi harbored little doubt he had not come for the suits alone. Her owner seemed of the same mind.

  Henry paced to the amber-colored window, peeked out to watch Tieran’s departure. His lip curled and he muttered curses in French.

  This won’t end well. Chidi thought as Henry sat down upon a rickety chair and produced his coral dagger and a whetstone from his Selkie pocket. His hand flashed back and forth and Chidi tried to control her breathing as the dagger’s edges sang, each note making it sharper. She swore Henry struck his blade against the stone harder every time he glanced at the door, almost as if he awaited Tieran’s next entrance.

  She could not say how much time passed before he stopped, but estimated near a half-hour. Then Henry tucked both dagger and stone away and stood, unconcerned that the chair tipped over and cracked its back in two.

  “We are leaving.” Henry stepped to the door.

  Chidi hung back.

  “Are you deaf, girl?” Henry snarled. “I said we are leaving.”

  Chidi nodded and hurried out the guesthouse after him. They darted from house to house, looping ever wider to go unseen from those at Lenny’s trial. Once past the houses, she followed Henry’s lead along the narrow paths through the oyster fields. Henry never stopped until they reached the easternmost part of the cavern, far from the crowded docks. She guessed them somewhere south of the Gasping Hole they’d arrived through. Chidi saw no one around and the only landmark a lone storehouse she recalled passing not a few hours ago.

  She had paid little attention to the shack at the time, but fear mounted in her as Henry approached its locked door and used the tip of his dagger to pick the lock open.

  The lock clicked free.

  Henry pocketed it and nudged the door open.

  Goosebumps raced up Chidi’s arms and legs as she looked on the blackness awaiting them.