Free Princess at Sea by Dawn Cook Page B

horses!
    I stood aghast when several crewmen jumped nimbly aboard the Sandpiper. Each had a metal bar to unwedge the grappling hooks. Faster than I could breathe, they ripped the claws from the railing of the Sandpiper and were back aboard. More men pushed the floundering boat away with long poles. It was a well-rehearsed dance that left me shocked and stunned.
    â€œFill sails!” Mr. Smitty shouted, demanding more authority than he had the entire night.
    My heart pounded. What the devil is going on? “Captain Rylan!” I demanded, pulling the short man around to see me. “The Sandpiper is going down. We have to get everyone off!”
    The man looked me up and down in a quick motion of disdain. “Get them below,” he said to no one in particular, and two crewmen stepped forward. From behind me, the rattling canvas finally ceased as the ship turned and the sails filled. There was a series of thumps when the canvas filled, the sails landing firmly against ties already in place. The ship began to move, and I shifted to adjust to the new balance.
    I looked at the Sandpiper, flames yellow and red at the bow. Men were shouting, beating at the flames spread by the thin film of water that had sprayed aboard. She was going down, one sail burned beyond recognition and the hull being slowly knocked apart as she found the shallower spots of the reef. It struck me like a slap from the dark what had happened.
    â€œWe’re being taken,” I whispered, my stomach twisting and panic striking deep into me. They had been lying in wait for us, timing it so the tide would prevent the warships from following, then burning my boat to keep it from following as well.
    I brought my eyes up, meeting Alex’s. He saw the knowledge of what had happened in my face, the firelight reflecting off the water in orange and black. His smoke-marked face was empty and his fingers were on his sword hilt. His blue eyes looked hard from his grimed face, and as I watched, his slight build tensed muscle by muscle. He knew it, too. God save us. We were fools. “You take the men on the left,” I whispered. “I’ll take the right.”
    Contessa, who knew what I was capable of, took an audible breath, holding it. Alex blinked. He didn’t know I had eight venomous darts in my hair, three throwing knives, and, around my waist disguised as a belt, a bullwhip that would scare a bear.
    Three crewmen were approaching, eying Alex’s sword with a casual cautiousness. “Aye, Your Royalship,” one said with a mocking respect. “Come take a wee bit of a walk with us, and I’ll show ya the boat, I will.”
    The man with him chuckled. He reached for Alex’s sword arm, and the audacity of someone touching him broke through Alex’s shock. “Stay back, Contessa!” he shouted, pulling his sword in a sound that would forever terrify me.
    I retreated to protect Contessa, stumbling when she pulled me to kneel beside her.
    Laughing, the three crewmen paused at the sight of the slight, bookish prince with a blade in his hands. They didn’t see his feet in the first position. They didn’t know he had been schooled until there was no fear. They had no clue that the lean muscles under his silk shirt were used to swinging a blade with no effort, and he would react without thinking, his movements instinctive and deadly.
    Hunching in anticipation, the surrounding men dropped their hands to their own swords. My stomach clenched, and my hand rose to my topknot as if I was nervous. I plucked several needles, putting one in the dart tube that had bisected my hair like an ornament. The first man to touch Contessa or me would go down.
    Duncan fell back to me, grasping my shoulder protectively. From around us came the hooting calls of the crew, most of them turning to watch, apparently eager for some sport.
    Mr. Smitty’s rough shout came from the wheel, jerking my attention to the stern. “Get