A Hidden Queen

Chapter 3

Fredrick Smithen glares at the world around him with vibrant green eyes. He drums his fingers against the table; his irritation growing with the exceedingly long wait.

"How long does it take five guards to get two prisoners out of their cells?" He scoffs.

The older man narrows his eyes as the naval men final come into view, pulling the two prisoners from the dark hold. He clenches his fists tightly as the bound, rugged man blinks his eyes against the harsh sunlight.

"Clinton Carter." He growls, his anger boiling to an unhealthy level. "Why did you not tell me this was the man we were bringing before the trial this morn'?"

"I did not tell you because I knew you were too stubborn to stay away. Now the question remains, are you going to be able to conduct yourself properly Fredrick?"

Smithen glares at Admiral Stephen Hawthorne. Stephen was blunt, some may even say harsh, but he was an honest man that showed empathy and strength when necessary. It was one of the reasons that his and Fredrick's friendship lasted for decades. The Admiral scrutinizes him with hazel eyes as the navy-blue ribbon used to tied back his braided, shoulder length dark caramel hair fluttered in the breeze.

"Are you questioning my ability to judge?" Smithen inquires hotly.

"I question your ability to keep your emotions under control." Hawthorne states matter-of-factly. "This has turned into a personal matter that I am not sure you can keep professional."

"You insult me, Stephen. You should have informed me of who we were trying, instead of berating me on my professionalism. Especially when your own men cannot control two pirates."

Hawthorne snaps his attention over to the chaos. The guards push and shove the two, yanking on their ropes as the young girl stares wide eyed at the gallows directly behind them. Smithen watches in unsatisfied amusement as she kicks the nearest man in the groin, instantly dropping him to his knees. She spins herself about, taking on the look of a crazed person as she growls at the next wave.

"Might want to stop them before someone gets hurt."

Hawthorne sighs, springing from his seat as several guards tackle her to the ground. Smithen inwardly grinches as her chin slams into the hard stone, breaking the skin and beginning to bleed.

"That is enough!" Hawthorne booms.

An unsettling stillness settles over the small gathering. The townspeople whispering among themselves as Hawthorne moves out into the open. The young woman halts her struggling, gazing up at the broad-shouldered military man with suspicious aversion.

Smithen holds his breath as Hawthorne studies and scrutinizes her. He did not know her name, but the face was like a ghost from his own past. The long red-brown hair, the deep-sea blue eyes, that feisty-fighting spirit. There was no doubt that this young girl was his daughter's child, the spawn between her and Carter. It was like he was looking at a mirror image of Martha.

The Governor sighs heavily with the new founded burden, massaging his temples. This was complicating far more than he had wished. His hand drops to the table, a sudden movement catching his attention. The vibrant green eyes widen as Carter drops low, rushing at Stephen.

"Stephen!" Smithen hollers, rising to his feet.

Hawthorne pulls his sword from his belt, bringing it up to bear against Carter's neck in one solid swift motion. Clinton tilts his head away from the sharp object, gazing at him with that smug overconfidence the man worse so easily.

"Dad!" The young girl calls.

"Not so tough now, are we Mr. Carter?"

"Get your navy scum off my daughter." Clinton threatens.