When I left Uncle Luvon’s ranch to hunt my father, I didn’t expect to see hippocamps again except from a distance. They had nothing to do with my purpose and no place in my life as a privateer.

When I saw a hippocamp again, it ruined my life.

I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Captain’s Log, Mayhem

Captain Fraser Connell

****

FIVE YEARS AGO…

“I think you’re being an idiot.” Gordon tipped his beer back and drained it, then slapped the empty on the bar. “Sir.”

He was my brother in all but blood, and together we’d spilled enough to fill a river. From my first days above the waves, Gordon had my back. He was the only one I trusted to tell me the truth, and he was the only one of Skirmisher’s crew could get away with calling me an idiot.

In this case, he was doubtless right, but I didn’t really care.

I couldn’t get that poor hippocamp out of my head.

I’d left that life behind. Put them out of my mind and from that moment until now, I hadn’t thought about hippocamps.

Now I couldn’t stop.

Three days ago, Skirmisher set out on what should’ve been a simple guard-duty cruise. The Earl of Sintane’s son was getting married, and he’d hired us to protect the wedding ship from pirates.

The short version: it ended badly.

“You aren’t wrong.” I said to Gordon. “I lost my head when I saw the groom’s younger brother astride that hippocamp gelding. Poor beast was so bespelled it could hardly move. That was the only reason it would tolerate an unbonded rider.”

“I know. You’ve told me.” Gordon’s tone held resigned patience.

“It was just supposed to be a routine guard duty cruise.” I muttered. “How did the Earl let his son make such a stupid mistake?”

I’d said that more than a dozen times since watching the hippocamp flounder to keep up in Skirmisher’s wake. While his rider laughed and raised his leather flogger again. The memory overrode the half-filled bar by the harbor. My vision dimmed, but my ears filled with the creature’s scream of pain as the hard leather struck his flanks.

The beast roused somewhat when I dove from Skirmisher, perking his ears as I swam towards him, but it was short-lived. Soon he once more sagged in his harness, head drooping to float in the water. With my numin, I’d sent a wave rolling over them, pulling them closer to me and dragging the rider off the hippocamp’s back.

Now I chuckled aloud, remembering how the young man sank, thrashing his arms about with no effect.

“At least you rescued him.” Gordon seemed to read my mind. Part of why we were such an effective team. Our mental processes followed similar tracks.

“Three times.” I reminded him.

That’s how many times I had to shove him under until he told me who sold him the wretched creature.

Prince Bartholomew Crummey.

“Think he said something about never going near the ocean again when I hauled him back on the wedding barge.” Gordon signaled the bartender to bring him another. “That and making sure we never get another contract. Ever.”

“I heard him too.” I growled. Word was out about the wedding cruise events, and it was already bad for business.

“You did sort of spectacularly give one of Alurenth’s peers an enormous fuck you.” Gordon said.

“I just can’t get it out of my head.” It was the best I could do. Close as we are, he wouldn’t understand. He’d never bonded.

I’d felt the hippocamp’s numin draining away, as if it was my blood running out along with his lifeforce. I’d known he wouldn’t last soon as I dove in.

In the moments before he died, I’d cradled that sad beast’s scarred head in my arms and offered him a bonding so he didn’t die alone. When he weakly twined his numin with mine, I immediately saw and felt him relax through our connection. His heartfelt gratitude shattered me. He’d been terrified by the constricting spells that compelled his obedience and the harsh treatment of his rider.

His trembling eased and his nostrils blew, softer and more relaxed, as I broke every spell that held him. The newly forged bond between us allowed me to banish any other numin.

My fingers shook as I tore off the harness wrapped round him and his eyes opened, locked on mine.

Their onyx depths were dull, but through our bond I sensed a brief spark of hope.

He showed me where he came from. A stable with dozens of hippocamps, all of them as bad off as him. Horrific stalls and pens that reeked of desperation and despair. He asked me one thing before his final exhale.

His tattered midnight mane spread in the waters when his head drooped, his forelegs at rest and his soul free. He believed me when I promised him I’d find his kin and free them.

I would never break that promise. I couldn’t.

It was the only way to get the image of that terrible place out of my head.

I shuddered and took another sip of beer but didn’t taste it, lost in my brooding.

I knew who, now I just needed to know where. The images the dying beast showed me didn’t tell me where the stable lay hidden. Which is what brought Gordon and me to this dive bar a few blocks off Hastrior’s harbor.

One other thing jabbed at me. “What kind of fool tries to ride a hippocamp when he can’t swim?” Finishing my beer, I set it down on the bar. “Did I tell you what that idiot said when I asked him?”

Gordon raised his brow and glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “Hmmm?”

“His exact words were, ‘the beast is supposed to rescue me if I fall off.’ Said he paid extra to have it bespelled to swim under and lift him to the surface.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Gordon swiveled his head, turning surprised amber eyes to meet mine. His flat tone matched his shocked expression.

“I shit you not.” Now I laughed, remembering how the young man had spluttered each time I yanked him to the surface, freckled face crumpled with fear and tears lost to the ocean.

Remembering the abuse the gelding had suffered kept any sort of remorse for my treatment of the Earl’s son at bay.

“He had plenty to say about you once we got him back aboard.” Gordon’s voice turned grim. He disapproved of the way I treated the client, had said so a few times.

“No one died. I refunded their deposit, and they got the whole cruise for free. I’d say we came out even.” In truth, I didn’t give two fucks what they thought of me. I’d seen what they thought was acceptable and found them lacking.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“They don’t quite see it that way.”

Now I scanned the newcomers strolling in through the door. Still didn’t see my contact. “They can suck my dick. We completed the contract with a safe conclusion.” The bartender returned with my fresh beer. “You know that little shit was never in danger of drowning.”

“I know. But some of our upcoming contracts have cancelled.”

“Their loss. Refund their deposits if we took them.” I gripped his gaze with a harsh stare. “This is non-negotiable, Gordy. You can stay or go, but this is happening.”

I watched him wrestle with that. If his agreement bordered on begrudging, well, I couldn’t hold it against him. What I proposed was utterly mad.

The Earl’s son told me of Prince’s Crummey’s hippocamp stables. He just couldn’t tell me where they were. “I truly don’t know, sir. I was busy in my rooms below decks.” He’d gasped. “Sea passages are boring. That’s why I wanted the hippocamp, so it would be more exciting.”

The temptation to dunk him under the waves and let go for good when he said that was almost irresistible.

Today, I was waiting for a man who had the coordinates of the prince’s hidden stables. He’d picked the bar and the time. Now this man was late.

“You know I’m with you.” Gordon assured me.

“There he is.” I jerked my chin at the wiry male who slunk through the little tables to approach.

“You are looking for hippocamps, yes?” The selkie shifter hissed.

****

A week later, Skirmisher rocked at anchor off a deep cove to the north of Hastrior. The prince’s stables were on the opposite side of the promontory that blocked their view of us. Two days ago we’d dropped a scout on the beach and picked him up today. He reported Prince Crummey went light on guards and heavy on mages and trainers.

“Spend their day playing with the ponies, sir. Don’t see many weapons about, and I didn’t see them practicing any. Send two squads overland and bring the rest ashore in skiffs at night and we’ll crack ‘em open like a walnut.”

It went flawlessly. I wasn’t surprised. I demand precision.

I was not expecting to capture Hastrior’s prince.

“Isn’t this an unpleasant complication.” I said in an aside to Gordon. We stood on the beach, staring at our collection of prisoners.

Now that the fighting was over, the crew lit a series of torches, setting a perimeter, and placing the captives within. A few rash ones had challenged us and learned that it’s not Fraser Connell alone who’s Scourge of the Seas. They were now piled off to the side, beyond the flickering torchlight. We’d dump them at sea later.

Most knew better than to fight and surrendered without lifting a sword.

“Why is he gagged?” I nodded at Prince Crummey. He was easy enough to recognize. Had even completed contracts for him. We hadn’t formally met, but his aquiline nose and thin lips were plastered about Hastrior in posters praising him and his philanthropic works.

“Because the rest of them know better than to flap their lips and complain when staring down a sword with their hands and feet tied.” A dozen men and women sat on the beach, bound. He swung his finger to indicate four others, who were also blindfolded and gagged. Aside from Prince Bart, all the rest were just tied together with ropes.

“Except them. They’re mages.”

I nodded approval. “Wise.”

I hadn’t made it to the stables yet, but I strolled over to the prince. “Isn’t this unfortunate, your Highness?” I even meant it. I’d intended to sweep in, overcome the staff, free the hippocamps and vanish.

Now I’d gone and committed an act of war against a ruling prince.

Not a good look for a privateer who relies on contracts with royalty and merchants.

Pissing off two ranking nobles from two different states in as many weeks was a record for me.

Prince Bart’s eyes bulged when I approached. I do have somewhat of a reputation.

He shouted around the gag, his eyes turning red at the edges.

“Please, your Highness. If you’ll just calm down.” I crouched down, so I was closer to eye level with him. “I’ve heard some unsettling news about your little enterprise here.” He kept yelling, so I paused. Eventually, so did he, his nostrils flaring as he sucked in raspy lungfuls of air. He’d gone through all his breath shouting around the gag and now was having a hard time getting it back. “I’m going to relieve you of your collection of hippocamps.” His voice went up a notch and in the flickering torchlight, his face turning beet red. “Look I know. You’ve been quite profitable, I’ve found. I just can’t allow you to keep doing so. I think you understand why.”

Nereids are fiercely protective of hippocamps. The bonding makes anything else impossible. That anyone would keep them away from the seas or cut off from their bonded was not something I’d allow.

Prince or no prince.

Crummey was back to gasping for breath, his face no less red, but his lips were turning blue.

I pulled his gag off. It would be worse if he died. No one would believe he’d expired from apoplexy. The rumor mill would claim I killed him. “You really should try to be calm. You may do yourself harm. I assure you, no one’s going to hurt you and once we’ve got the hippocamps away, you’ll be released.”

The prince gasped, mouth wide open before he wheezed. “I’ll have your balls. This is outrageous!”

“I understand your anger, your Highness, I sincerely do.” Movement from the beach caught my eye. Sera ran up from the stables. “But if what I find in your stables matches what I was shown?” I shook my head and let just a fraction of my rage burn through my stare. “You’d be wise to keep your mouth shut and count yourself lucky I don’t collect your balls and your head.

“Sir, you need to come down to the water now.” Sera was always intense, but rarely were her hazel eyes shadowed with that much concern and anger. I wondered what could’ve upset my healer to put that look on her face.

****

I wanted to puke.

My crew had already freed the captive nereid youths and taken them to safety. Hippocamps drifted listlessly in pens lining a wooden dock.

Now I wept. What that hippocamp gelding shared with me paled compared to what we found. These pathetic creatures didn’t even stir when their bonded were taken away. Only a few lifted their ears or followed me with their eyes. The rest just stared at nothing, their eyes flat, not noticing the surrounding activity. I strode to the end of the dock, leaving my crew behind so they wouldn’t see me lose it. My heart shattered into pieces seeing those dull coats and eyes.

“Bring. Me. The prince.” I clipped off the words, sending them over my shoulder. Two tear tracks dried in the breeze. Boot heels tapped on the wooden dock at my order.

Sera joined me. “Sir, you need to hear this.” She filled me in on just some of the things the young nereids told her. My stomach heaved.

“They say the prince’s people forced them to bond with the ‘camps and then break them. Over and over. To break them.” Her voice cracked, and I heard her choke back a sob. “Make them more malleable. Easier to bend with the binding spells.”

“Easier to sell at a premium price.” I finished for her.

From behind us came a stream of shrill vituperation. My anger became my shield and hid my grief, burned away my nausea.

“I say, this is utterly preposterous. I am not to be treated like some common gutter trash. I am the Prince of …”

His voice dwindled when I turned to face him. “You are Prince Bartholomew Crummey of Hastrior and you have some explaining to do.”

He recognized the change in me. I’d gone from sort of sorry to cold, rigid fury.

“I am not subject to anyone’s orders, Captain.” He spluttered.

“No, technically you’re not and to be honest, I do not want to hear your whiny explanations and attempts at justification. So again, shut your mouth and listen.” Wisely, he closed his lips, but his green eyes burned.

“I’m going to give you a choice, Prince Bartholomew.” I’d come to a painful decision. One that would haunt me, but it was the best I could make of an ugly situation. “I will take you back to Hastrior as promised.” His frightened gaze lightened with relief that froze with my next words. “But I will make sure everyone from your closest advisors to the City Council down to the street-sweeper’s brats knows exactly what Skirmisher’s crew found in your sick stables.”

His weak green eyes darted from me to Sera, whose expression was terrifying. I’d never seen my healer so fierce. She had good reason. She’d been the first to see the disheveled nereid youths imprisoned with the hippocamps.

“You used those nereids to force the hippocamps to submit to the staff.” Sera shook as she flung her accusation at the prince. “You kidnapped and beat them to force them to submit.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Those are hired staff.” Bartholomew insisted, casting anxious glances at the other men and women around him as if seeking their agreement.

“By hired,” Sera said, her voice brittle with fury. “The prince means his henchmen lured them with promises of high pay then trapped them in this cove. His Highness' staff drugged them and worse, then refused to return them to Hastrior.” When he brought his gaze back to me, indecision had replaced the prince’s fury, well-laced with fear.

He was right to be afraid.

“How do you think the good people of Hastrior would react if they knew what we found?” I asked Sera. She didn’t mince words.

“They’d rend him to pieces. His people already don’t like him. There wouldn’t be enough left to cremate and toss to the winds.”

Prince Bart’s florid expression paled and went slack.

“Exactly. What. We found.” I repeated, not letting him avoid my stare, just to make sure we understood each other.

“I- I- I don’t know …” He gulped, his eyes darting. “You don’t understand. It’s not what you think.”

“You don’t honestly think that tired line works, do you?” I was disappointed and said so.

“Hey…Listen...” Another big swallow. The prince was seemingly feeling a bit queasy. His complexion had taken on a distinctly greenish tinge. “I can make you rich.”

I leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I’m already rich.” Straightening, I said. “I haven’t told you your other choice. Don’t you want to hear it?”

He shifted his head from side to side a fraction, too terrified to say no.

I told him anyway.

“You end this, right here, right now.” His jaw went slack, but I didn’t stop. “Any method you choose.” I rested my hand on his shoulder. “I will assist you if you need.” He shook under my grip. I locked my gaze with his and refused to let him look away. “In return, I promise your secret will die here with you. Hastrior need never know.”

It was a devil’s bargain, and I knew it. I hated myself for it, but I still did it.

I handed him the poison cup myself.

After I promised him I’d look after Hastrior. Prince Crummey was everything the wildest rumors accused him of: a drug- and sex- addicted degenerate. The island held all the evidence. Even the lenient courts of his own city would convict if they understood the full scope of what we uncovered. He cared only that his image remained untarnished, and he’d whispered the one phrase that would force my compliance and wring a vow from my lips. I might tell them any tale I wished, so long as I ensured Hastrior survived and Prince Bart looked like a hero. I passed him the cup, and he handed me his abdication letter. His last request, that I wait to read it until I was in front of the city council.

Not. Likely.

****