Pirate's Ransom

Chapter 5

Johnathan St. James stood, pacing the length of Richard Fairbairn's study. His hands clenched tightly at the issue he now faced. How could those sniveling guards not have saved her? Sure, he cared very little about her in the long run, but he had been so close to marrying her and wiping clean his debts. She was his answer for everything. Being as willful as Isabella was made marrying her an issue. He had planned on wedding the brat, using her wealth to pay off his issues, having fun with her a while, and then when her father finally died, she would meet an untimely accident. The last thing he needed was a wife.

It was a shame really. Isabella's beauty was astounding and he couldn't wait to have her in his bed. If only she would keep her mouth shut, though, he could easily shut it for her. The thought made his body harden of it's own free will.

His hands flexed at his side, working blood back into them. 

"Johnathan. Please calm yourself. I realize you are worried for her safety, and I assure you we will get her back. I know my daughter, she will survive this.”

The old man's craggy voice was grating on his nerves. He wanted, no, needed Isabella and then needed Richard to die. All in a timely order. If Richard died before Isabella was returned, he would have no chance of marrying her.

“But if they touch her...” Jonathan growled. He knew it sounded possessive to Richard, but it was really a matter of wanting to be her first, and last. She wouldn't be as fun if he knew that a Pirate had had his way with her. She would be damaged goods, and he never acquired damaged goods. Though, for her he would have to make an exception. Jonathan's hand stroked the line of his jaw. If she were to lie with a pirate, unwillingly of course, no man in his right mind would take her as a wife. She would have no choice but to marry him. If everything worked out.

He felt an icy glare at his back and turned to meet Frank. He stood in the doorway with his hand gripped on the hilt of his sword in its sheath. The grip and look were meant to threaten him and he was too angry to care.

“My lord,” Frank said strongly and flicked his gaze to Richard. “We know who took Isabella.”

“Well?”

“It's the Death Bringer. Captain Arus sir.”

Jonathan's eyes opened wider. Could that be? Tales of the Death Bringer of the high seas had been told to him even as a child. The men on his ship were said to be demons that reaped the souls of anyone who stood in their way. Their conquests were known everywhere across the seas. Some even say that they are goblin men who are forced to sail in order to horde more gold. How could that man be him? Especially when so few people had been killed during the attack.

“That is preposterous,” Jonathan said abruptly with a small smirk quirking at his lips. He and Richard shot dueling glares to one another.

“Why do you say that, Jonathan?” Richard questioned.

“Because he was a character my own mother told me of as a child. There is no way that man could have been him, he was far too young. He couldn't be more than thirty summers.”

“That may be so,” Frank said. “But men have children who often take up their father's profession.”

“So you think this is the Death Bringer's son?”

“It must be,” Frank said sternly. “Many of the people down by the water saw the front of the ship before they left. They all said the same thing.” He took a deep breath. “There was a wraith like creature emblazoned on the front of it.”

Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose at the oncoming headache he was feeling. Part of that was because he had drank far too much after Isabella had been taken, but the other part was how messy his plans had become.

If he didn't get the money soon, he would be in serious trouble. Maybe he would lose a finger first, but then a hand, and an arm. The drunken card games he'd had partook in, now threatened to haunt him as the collectors came knocking. He had promised that their sum would be met shortly but his time was running out, and so was his patience. The only thing keeping him alive at this point was his name. The St. James name held authority and titles. He would never sell the family property and so he had to find the money, or face death at the hands of a group of men at the local tavern.

Frank moved forward. His armor clinked against him as he moved. “I propose we take our fastest ship and our best men, and bring her back by force in necessary.”

“If she was taken by the Death Bringer, she may have already been killed.”

“No!” Richard boomed and then took a moment to collect himself. “He wants something too badly to kill her.”

A thought occurred to him. If the Pirate wanted something, it must be of some great value to storm a manor for and risk himself. If the value of that object was enough, he may be able to somehow get his hands on it and use it to pay off the debts before anyone knew. Of course, if the pirate wanted it and it was gone, there would be no way of ever getting Isabella back. His top priority was getting the debts paid so Isabella didn't matter that much.

“About that,” he asked, “What was it that you refused to give him? Everyone heard his demands.”

Richard shook his head and leaned on his hands, supported by the large oak desk in front of him. “I made an oath a long time ago, that what he wants, can never be given to anyone but the owner.”

“If you feel it is in danger, you can give it to me for safe keeping. No one would think to check with me.” Then, when Richard dies, he would be able to sell it after everyone had forgotten about it.

“My lord!” Frank protested.

“Even if I could give it to him in order to get my precious daughter back, I couldn't.”

Both he and Frank frowned at the cryptic nature of his words. “Why?” They both asked.

“Because, he already took what he's looking for. He just doesn't know it yet.