A Fruitful Alliance originally appeared in the indie romance anthology, A Season for Romance: Spring Blossoms. The ebook is free on all digital platforms. If you want a collection of short, sweet, closed-door romance ranging from high fantasy to contemporary equestrian, download a copy and discover some new indie authors.
AFA happens in the same world as my upcoming novel, Mistress & Mage. Although it happened almost 150 years earlier and in a different hemisphere, it is distantly connected to the novel's characters.
A Fruitful Alliance
The
evening around Eudala deepened to full night, and she breathed a sigh of
contentment. My ship. She liked the sound of that.
She
leaned on the railing of the forecastle, enjoying the gentle rock of the ship
and the soft soughing of warm breezes. Early spring storms had finally yielded
to gentler weather. In response, the vibrant flowers of the archipelago adorned
every vine and branch, perfuming the air with three dozen sweet scents.
Her
first mate, Feyska, joined her on the forecastle, wiping oil from her hands. “I’ll
be going ashore now, if you don’t mind, Captain.”
Captain
Eudala. She liked that even better.
“Go
ahead, Feyska. Everything is quiet.”
It
had taken over three decades, but she’d finally gotten her own ship and crew
and the freedom that went with both. Like most independent ships, hers was a
small two-master, and she took advantage of its compact size, anchoring in the
sheltered channels between the islands.
Bigger
ships floated in the open waters further out, but most of them belonged to the
fleets—the Sea Dragon, the Tethered Tree, or the Red Ghosts. In any other port
or on the open ocean, that proximity would be dangerous, but this part of the
archipelago was neutral ground. Someday, she’d be prosperous enough to join an
alliance. Until then, she needed to stay beneath their notice.
Music
and laughter drifted through the trees. Her crew was ashore, enjoying the
ramshackle bars, island hospitality, and the company of the other crews.
Lanterns winked fore and aft on most vessels, sending ripples of gold across
the water.
The
hair on the back of her neck rose and her aura prickled. A shiver of combined
magic, both the personal, living power of anima and the elemental magic of
glow, pulsed through the water, followed by a far stronger one.
That was a massive surge of power, but
where did it come from?
A
low wave of thunder spread across the water, then another, rushing towards her
and setting the boat rocking. An unearthly roar, like a hundred thunder dragons
calling, erupted from the center of the open water.
Fire.
One
of the distant ships burst into flames, turning into a three-masted torch as
she watched in slack-jawed disbelief. It was every sailor’s nightmare, a blaze
burning hot enough to eat up seasoned wood and send even the best ship to the
depths.
A
fire like that—an explosion like that—was no accident.
Sabotage?
Revenge?
And
worse-–the carnage that invariably came with broken truces.
She
grabbed the mate standing frozen beside her. “Feyska!”
“Whose
ship is that, Captain?”
Whose
ship indeed. Eudala shook her head. “Collect the
crew.”
Feyska
stared at the burning ship, immobile.
“Now!
Move!”
Feyska
jolted into action and made for the shore.
Eudala
couldn’t make out details in the dark at this distance. She ran for her cabin
and fumbled through the maps and records on her desk for her spyglass. Her feet
hit something slippery, skidded out from under her, and she fell, head thumping
hard against the boards.
Why
is the damned floor wet? Swearing, she rolled onto her side,
rubbing her skull and groping for her hat. She twitched her shoulders, blooming
her anima, her personal magic, spun a ball of light from it, and scrambled back
in shock—a man’s startled face was inches from her own, staring back at her.
His
dark, handsome face rearranged into a nervous grin. Water dripped off a mass of
loose, purple hair ornamented with wooden beads. Golden light from her anima gleamed off
muscles coiled to charge or flee. Despite wearing only a ragged pair of
trousers, he was certainly no archipelagan wharf rat, not built like that. And
no ally, hiding under her desk like a thief. Her anima arcs flared out like
snakes prepared to strike.
He
held up both hands, fingers splayed. “Please, Captain, I am not your enemy.”
She
flicked an arc against his neck, pinning him in place. “So why are you dripping
all over my cabin?”
He
twisted against the arc, clawing at it with one hand. “I just need a ride.”
Eudala
regained her feet and drew her saber; she retracted the arc pinning him, but
kept the others poised and ready. His arcs were faded, spent; magically, he was
no threat to her. Even his aura, the visible expression of emotions, was
ragged.
That
massive surge of power earlier. That would drain a person like that.
“Get
up.” She motioned to the center of the room with her saber.
He
crawled out from under the desk, but stayed on his knees, hands visible.
“Explain.
Now.”
He
wet his lips, eyes on the saber. “You’re unaffiliated, right? You weren’t
flying a flag.”
What
does that have to do with anything? “I’m independent, yes.”
He
smiled, tilting his head in a way that was unexpectedly endearing, dark eyes
going soft. “I can see that.”
She
laid the flat of the saber against his cheek, and his smile congealed. “Why are
you here?”
“I
rejected the tender hospitality of Captain Sedair.” His gaze flickered to the
open window and back to her face. “Somewhat violently.”
Sedair.
Eudala’s jaw clenched. Sedair wasn’t just part of the Sea Dragon’s fleet; he
was favored by his high captain and infamous for hunting fellow Exiles. He
sailed a three-master.
Eudala
choked on a horrible conclusion. “Please tell me you didn’t incinerate Sedair’s
ship.”
His
grin shifted from boyish to wicked. “He killed my crew, sank my ship, and
intended to hold me for ransom. So yes, I did.”
If
Sedair was alive, he would be tearing the archipelago apart looking for this
fellow. If he wasn’t, it was just a matter of time before the Sea Dragon came
searching. If he discovered she’d helped this fugitive in any way, her stint as
captain would have a short, fatal ending. Icy talons of fear sank into her
shoulders and stole her breath. Her arcs and saber wavered.
“If
it helps, I made sure he went down with his ship,” the stowaway added and
inched closer.
Thank
the skies for small favors.
Word
would take time to spread. Trails could go cold. If her crew rallied quickly
enough, she’d be out of here before word reached the Sea Dragon. If.
“Swive
a serpent, what am I supposed to do with you?”
His
molten gaze traveled down her body, and he spread his arms wide. “Please,
lovely captain, take full advantage of me.”
He
was . . . dammit, he was too handsome to ignore, and she was fighting the urge
to smile.
No.
Nope. I do not want any piece of this mess. He needed to go
and leave her out of it. But . . . One damn minute.
Sedair
wasn’t known for leaving survivors. “He was holding you for ransom? Who are
you?”
He
stood with more energy and grace than she expected, and bowed with a flourish. “Captain
Caerue of the Tethered Tree, very much at your service.”
He
put a lot of meaning into that last phrase. Eudala didn’t know if she should
laugh or weep. Here she was, captaining one ship with barely any connections
and no reliable back up, suddenly caught in a clash between the titans of the
open ocean. Both the Tethered Tree and the Sea Dragon could crush her in a heartbeat.
This bilge-rat will get us all keel-hauled.
He
gathered his long hair and rolled his shoulders. The action made her very aware
of his lean muscles, the way he moved like a warrior or a dancer. The glance he
sent her way was just as approving.
I
need to shut this down. I’m nowhere near ready to play with the big ships.
But
if the Tethered Tree owed her a favor . . . yes, she could see a way out of
this storm. All sorts of distant dreams seemed possible if she managed to play
this right.
She
sheathed her saber. “This is supposed to be neutral ground. You just,
literally, blew that out of the water. Everyone will be looking for you.”
Would
he offer a deal as pretty as his face?
“Sail
me home, and you’ll have the protection of the Brothers of the Tethered Tree.
My word on it.” He drew a sign in the air, pulling his weak anima into it so
the sigil glowed briefly. He would be oath-bound.
“I
should put you aground and sail away.” But her heart wasn’t in the threat. He’d
invoked the Brothers of the Tethered Tree, and that meant he wasn’t just
one of their captains. He was someone far more important. Caerue. The
name didn’t tickle any memories.
The
Tethered Tree was a powerful alliance to make. Without connections, it could
take another three decades to be successful enough to be noticed by them.
Alliance and protection came with strings, of course, but maybe they wouldn’t
tug her sails too roughly, especially if this Caerue was special.
She
appraised him again. Put him in decent clothes-–or just take him out of clothes
altogether-–and he might be very good company indeed.
She
crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “Exactly how grateful will they be to
have you back?”
He
stepped in close and his hands settled lightly on her hips. “Very.”
“You’re
a bold one.” She liked it. No sniveling or begging; no trying to dissemble.
His
hand caressed her side, catching the loose hem of her shirt enough to expose
her skin. “Very.”
The
brush of his fingertips under her shirt drew her arms open.
It
was that mischievous spark in his eyes. Delivering him was going to be very fun
or very dangerous, or both, but the rewards were surely worth the risk. She
walked her fingers up his chest before sliding a hand behind his neck.
She
lowered her voice. “You and the Tree better make it worth my while.”
“Oh,
absolutely.” He ducked his head, breath tickling her neck, warmer than the
tropical breezes.
“I
want more than protection.” She ran the tip of her tongue along the edge of his
ear and was satisfied with his sudden intake of breath.
Two
can play this game, pretty fellow. She wasn’t going to be
seduced into a free ride.
He
chuckled. “You drive a hard bargain, Captain.”
“I haven’t even started . . .Captain. I want written into the alliance.” She gripped the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him back so they were eye to eye. “Or no delivery.”
“Mmm.
Ambitious.”
He
tried to lean in for a kiss, but she held his hair.
“Alliance.
I want your oath-bound word.”
“I
give it. My word as Caerue s’if Murhuran, seventh son of the Tethered Tree.
Return me to my brothers, and you have your place in our alliance.” He drew the
sigil again, looking serious for a brief moment.
Seventh
son? She covered her surprise by tightening her
grip. He wasn’t just important to the Brothers. He was one of them. I’ve
caught a very big fish.
She
traced the Exile scars across his upper arm. “On my terms.”
“On
your terms.” His fingers flitted up her rib cage. “You have my word.”
“I
look forward to our voyage.” She eased
the grip on his hair and let his mouth reach hers. Delicious. The
perfect start to a fruitful alliance.
