Revenge of the Fox

Chapter 9

The smuggler's craft slipped through the water nearly soundlessly. In their windowless prison, Antonia and Annamaria had no idea what time it might be. They'd managed to untie each other's wrists. While they were more comfortable, they weren't any closer to freeing themselves.

"Annamaria?"

"What is it?" Annamaria said a bit sullenly.

"What is it about me that you dislike so much?"

"What?" Annamaria turned and looked at Antonia in the flickering lamplight. "Why do you think I dislike you?"

Antonia raised her eyebrow. "Don't you?"

Flustered, Annamaria looked away. "Of course not. I just don't know you particularly well."

"True enough," said Antonia. "But there's more to it than that, isn't there?"

Annamaria looked back and saw Antonia gazing at her coolly. "You must be perfect for Norrington," she said spitefully. "You have that same cold stare."

Antonia's expression didn't change. "Is that it? You think I'm cold?"

"We have nothing in common. You're a nobleman's daughter. You grew up with money and privilege. I was born a slave, and a slave who was sold into prostitution whenever it so pleased my owner. Since then I've become a pirate. A thief. We have nothing in common, Miss Swann, and you should be glad of it."

"It appears we have a great deal in common, Miss Simone." Antonia returned, her voice growing even colder. "We're both sitting here in a tiny room wearing nearly identical clothing. We're both at the mercy of some man we've never heard of before for reasons we don't know. And now that this Reynard the Fox, whomever he might be has gotten us out of Port Royal, it is getting less and less likely that we'll be found."

Annamaria merely narrowed her eyes and glared at her. Antonia got up and started to pace the small space. "Do you remember when we first laid eyes on each other? If I recall correctly, you released me from a prison cell aboard the Aldonza. Do you remember? I was in that cell because my father, or at least, the man I'd THOUGHT was my father had sold me into marriage with a man I'd never seen before. And that man's relatives found me unworthy. So unworthy, in fact, that not only did they have me locked in that cell, but he beat me bloody." Antonia stopped pacing directly in front of Annamaria and looked her square in the eye. "I'm not suggesting that this makes us blood sisters, Anna, but I'd really appreciate it if you'd spare me your righteous indignation."

"It doesn't make us blood sisters," said Annamaria flatly.

Antonia stepped back a pace and folded her arms. "Why don't you dislike Elizabeth? She's a nobleman's daughter too."

"Elizabeth has proven her worth to me. She'd do anything and everything necessary to save those she loves. She's brave, she's clever and she's kind."

"Yes, she is," agreed Antonia. "And I suppose I'm none of those things?"

"I have no way of knowing if you are."

"And no way of knowing if I'm not." Antonia said bitterly. "According to you, I'm just a silly, rich chit with a pretty face who has managed to catch herself a Commodore in her matrimonial net, yes?" After a pause she continued. "Can we call a truce?"

"A truce?"

"Yes, a truce. However similar or dissimilar you feel our pasts have been, you have to admit that our futures are likely to be very similar. Or were you thinking that when they've taken whatever revenge they want on our men they'll let us go?"

Annamaria was startled. "I didn't think you'd realize that."

"I'm not an imbecile, Anna."

"All right then. A truce, Miss Swann."

"You can bloody damn well call me Tonia, or Antonia if you'd rather!"

"Tonia, then."

"What's likely to happen to us?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"There doesn't seem to be any point in wallowing in blissful ignorance."

Annamaria shrugged. "We'll likely be sold. If you're lucky, you'll attract the eye of someone who wants to keep you to himself."

"And if not?"

"Then you'll attract the eye of someone who wants to sell you to as many men as he can for as much money as he can. You're not a virgin, are you?"

"As a matter of fact I am. We were waiting for our wedding night."

"You impetuous kids!" Annamaria said sarcastically.

Antonia smiled wryly. "Go to hell, Anna."

"Probably will. Anyway, when the time comes, tell Reynard that. You'll be worth more money that way, and you're less likely to be raped out of hand."

"How does someone work something like that into casual conversation?" Antonia wondered.

"This is the oddest conversation I've ever had," said Annamaria in bewilderment. "I'm discussing the ins and outs of being sold as a prostitute to a young, virgin noblewoman and she isn't having hysterics."

"Funny old world, isn't it?"

--

Elizabeth lay in the hidden storage area, dozing in and out with the movement of the fishing boat. It was either sleep or have a claustrophobic fit. Sleeping seemed more constructive, so she was doing her best to stay relaxed and unconscious. Gradually, however, she became aware that the movement of the boat was different. The men were moving around above her more.

"Drop the sail!"

Were they stopping? Was it nightfall, or perhaps (please God) had they arrived at their destination? In a moment she felt the boat slow as oars were dipped into the water, braking the forward movement. Then a bump as the boat knocked into a larger object. Other voices called out and Elizabeth heard the sounds of rope being tightened into a knot. Impatiently she waited to be released, but it did not happen for several minutes. Finally the trap door opened and she was hauled out. They were tied up to a ship. Her captors cut the bonds on her hands to enable her to climb the rope ladder. As she reached the top a sailor reached out to help her over the rail. His eyes raked her speculatively, and she stepped away from him as soon as she could.

Her captors reached the deck. "Yer the first," grunted the sailor. "No one else is 'ere yet."

"Well, take the girl below then," said one of the men. With another grunt, the sailor took Elizabeth's arm and ushered her from the deck.

"Is this the Vixen?" Elizabeth asked, tentatively.

"Aye," said the sailor.

"Is the Captain aboard?"

"No."

The sailor pulled Elizabeth down two steep flights of stairs until they were in the hold. Finally they arrived at the brig. There were four cells, all empty. The sailor shoved Elizabeth into the first one, then locked the door, took the keys and left.

"Talkative chap," she muttered, and surveyed the cell. It was a bit more hospitable that most brigs she'd seen. There was a low, narrow cot in each cell covered by a rough blanket. A chamber pot stood in the corner. "Well, it's better than the storage hold, I suppose."