The Diamond King Read Online Free PDF

every sailor relished. The sun brushed his cheek, and he savored the sense of freedom, of control, that had been missing from his life for the past two years. He could forget the scar and the way that his leg gave out far too often. Here, none of that mattered.
    The sound of yelling interrupted the relative satisfaction of the moment.
    “Captain,” one of the crewmen shouted.
    Then he heard a loud curse by a young female voice, and a “Let me go,” uttered by a young male voice.
    He uttered a curse of his own.
    He turned to the hatchway. A sailor had two short figures in tow, both wriggling in his hold. “Stowaways, sir. Found them in the munitions storage in the afterhold,” he added with disapproval.
    Alex tipped the cap Meg was wearing and saw that she had cut the long red hair that had been her best feature. Her face was smudged and her lad’s clothes were filthy.
    Robin didn’t look any better. Though he tried to draw himself up into a position of dignity, he looked like a chimney sweep. He appeared small and defiant and uncertain all at the same time.
    “How in the bloody hell did you get here?” Alex asked.
    Meg stuck out her lower lip and remained silent.
    “The barge, sir,” Robin said.
    “The barge?”
    “We heard you talking about the supply barge from Paris. We went to the riverfront and found out which was going to your ship and we, ah, we went aboard.”
    “You stowed away on the barge?” Alex said.
    “Aye.”
    Alex glowered. It was all he could do. He had been a thief, and the children knew it. It did not matter that he had done it for them. And, perhaps, a little for himself. He’d wanted to live long enough to hurt the British. So he hadn’t exactly been a great example for children. He seized on the only reasonable argument. “You promised to do as I said.”
    “That was a year ago,” an obviously unrepentant Meg pointed out.
    “A promise is a promise,” Alex said, finding it very hard to be a figure of authority. He had been that—of sorts—for a year, but he’d always thought of it as a temporary condition to be ended shortly. He’d never really known children before, had not thought to have any of his own for years, and he’d steered away from trying to be any kind of father to them. He had simply provided—usually not very well—for their basic needs until he found someone who could give them the security they needed.
    He didn’t have any love left inside him. There was only anger. The children had enough anger of their own without being even more infected with his. He didn’t know how to comfort. He definitely did not know how to teach values when he had been without them these last few years.
    He certainly didn’t want them to be identified with pirates. It was fine for him. He had nothing else. He had no future. No woman would marry him with his physical wounds or the other less visible ones.
    Burke came up from below deck and stopped at the sight of the children. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. “How—”
    “The barge,” Alex said. “Though how they got aboard the
Ami
is another matter.”
    Robin shifted his gaze to Meg, then to the deck.
    “Robin?”
    “It was not difficult,” he said. “We saw you leave. We took some fruit aboard and sold it to the sailors. When no one was looking, we hid in the hold.”
    “If a ship had fired at us ...” Alex closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear thinking of what might have happened.
    “But it did not, my lord.” He shifted again. “Meg and I are thirsty.”
    “And hungry,” Meg said. “We ate all our fruit.”
    “When were you going to make yourselves known?” Alex asked.
    “When you were far enough away that you couldn’t send us back,” Robin said, “but Meg was hungry... and...”
    Meg turned on him. “You were hungry, too.”
    Four days in the dark. Four days with little food and probably less water. But then their stomachs had known hunger before.
    Still, it hurt the heart he’d believed shielded