She hurled this last insult to the Frenchman over her shoulder then came to take an open bottle from Ruark’s hand and pour the wine for him before placing a choice piece of meat in his mouth.
An odd noise came from Pellier, and Ruark turned to stare in amazement. The half-breed had seized an entire joint of pork and was ravenously ripping the meat from it, stuffing the pieces into his mouth with his fingers until his eyes seemed almost to bulge. He chewed open-mouthed until he could wash it clear with a gulp of wine and then repeated the procedure. Disbelief crept into Ruark’s expression as the man shoved three ripe plantains into his mouth and swallowed without chewing.
Harripen sneered. “ ‘E’s a bastard from St. Domingue, ’alf French, ‘alf Indian. ’E tried to pass ‘imself off as gentry ’ere, but as ye can guess ‘is table manners gave ’im away.” After a moment Harripen continued in derision. “As bloody crude as Robby is with ‘is food, ’es a bit o‘ a wizard with ’at fancy shiv ‘e wears. ’Tis a fact we’re all aware of. ‘At’s why ’e’s here. ‘E speared too many o’ the young Frenchmen is St. Domingue with it. The frogs would stretch ‘is neck on a dozen counts. And if the truth were known, three times the dozen is more like it.” The Englishman sipped an ale and eyed Ruark. “ ’E also dislikes anyone ‘andsome and young enough to challenge ’is rights with the women.” Then Harripen chuckled. “Aye, we’ve some odd ones ‘ere, and this is the cream of our little colony. Wait ’til ye see the rest.”
Ruark decided he had the patience to wait a lifetime for that. Right now all in the world he wanted was to know where these scum had put Shanna. He sampled the wine, a heavy Italian red, and briefly wondered from what cargo ship it had been taken. Without turning, he directed a question to Harripen.
“How do you settle differences here? If there is an argument over a piece that two claim, how is it decided which one gets it?”
Harripen laughed with a grunt. “A duel, me friend. And if h’it’s to the death, winner takes all. ‘At’s why Pellier is the richest among us. ’E’s killed the most.”
Ruark nodded. That was all he wanted to know. He stretched lazily, like an unhurried cat, then hung a leg over the back of a chair, bracing his arm across it as he peered at the pirates one at a time until they became uneasy beneath his expectant scrutiny. When the tension had blossomed to an acceptable level, he broke the silence.
“Well, hearties, you dawdle over your cups while good time slips away.”
Even Pellier stopped and stared questioningly at him.
“How long will you give Trahern to hunt you down?”
There were puzzled mumbles and much shifting of eyes, for they found his inquiry rankling and confusing.
“I mean,” Ruark explained slowly, casually waving a hand, “would it not seem wise to send word that you have Trahern’s daughter and that she is safe? Perhaps even the ransom should be made known. Let’s see.” He rubbed his arm with a fist thoughtfully. “She should be worth perhaps— pounds.” He had caught their imaginations, and eyes brightened all around the table. “That would be enough to see any one of you to a good life of ease—after, of course, say a tithe is paid for Mother’s haven and mayhap a thousand or so for myself.” These men could understand greed, in fact would be suspicious of a man who did not expect his share. Still he hastened to add, “My own part would be small as I only showed you the way in, and it was your own boldness and bravery that caught her.” He paused and watched them while he seemed to ponder.
“I know Trahern though,” he stated cautiously. “He will be after you with all sails set, and he will be difficult to bargain with when you’re looking down his guns.”
Though Pellier had turned his shoulder and pretended not to hear, the others listened carefully.
“If some of your prisoners wish to return, why not send them back with the word.” There was a general murmur of approval, and Ruark continued innocently. “Where are the men? Let me question them.”
Before the others could say nay, the large mulatto captain crossed to the back of the room, threw a bar from a thick oak door, and pulled it open.
“Out here, ya gutless swine,” he snarled within and stood aside.
There was a scrambling, and the three men who had been taken with Shanna came out to stand blinking at the light. They crouched together, fearful of their fates. Ruark gave no pause but strode boldly across to them and inspected each.
Then he turned and braced his feet wide, put hands on his hips and demanded, “And where’s the wench?”