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  Raider of the Deep

  A Pirates of Britannia World Novel

  Jennae Vale

  Copyright © 2019 Jennae Vale

  Kindle Edition

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Pirates of Britannia Connected

  World publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by DragonMedia Publishing, Inc. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Pirates of Britannia connected series by Kathryn Le Veque and Eliza Knight remain exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Kathryn Le Veque and/or Eliza Knight, or their affiliates or licensors. All characters created by the author of this novel remain the copyrighted property of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

  Published by DragonMedia, Inc.

  The Pirates of Britannia World

  God of the Seas

  by Alex Aston

  Lord Corsair

  by Sydney Jane Baily

  Stolen by Starlight

  by Avril Borthiry

  The Righteous Side of Wicked

  by Jennifer Bray-Weber

  The de Wolfe of Wharf Street

  by Elizabeth Ellen Carter

  The Pirate’s Jewel

  by Ruth A. Casie

  The Blood Reaver

  by Barbara Devlin

  The Pirate’s Temptation

  by Tara Kingston

  Savage of the Sea

  The Sea Devil

  by Eliza Knight

  Leader of Titans

  Sea Wolfe

  by Kathryn Le Veque

  The Marauder

  by Anna Markland

  The Sea Lyon

  The Sea Lord: Devils of the Deep

  by Hildie McQueen

  Pearls of Fire

  by Meara Platt

  Plunder by Knight

  by Mia Pride

  The Seafaring Rogue

  The Sea Hellion

  by Sky Purington

  Laird of the Deep

  by B.J. Scott

  Raider of the Deep

  by Jennae Vale

  The Ravishing Rees

  The Savage Sabre

  The Beast of Blades

  by Rosamund Winchester

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  The Pirates of Britannia World

  The Legend of the Pirates of Britannia

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  The Legend of the Pirates of Britannia

  In the Year of our Lord 854, a wee lad by the name of Arthur MacAlpin set out on an adventure that would turn the tides of his fortune, for what could be more exciting than being feared and showered with gold?

  Arthur wanted to be king. A sovereign as great as King Arthur, who came hundreds of years before him. The legendary knight who was able to pull a magical sword from stone, met ladies in lakes and vanquished evil, who had a vast following that worshipped him. But while that King Arthur brought to mind dreamlike images of a roundtable surrounded by chivalrous knights and the ladies they romanced, MacAlpin wanted to summon night terrors from every babe, woman, and man.

  Aye, MacAlpin, King of the Pirates of Britannia, would be a name most feared. A name that crossed children’s lips when the candles were blown out at night. When a shadow passed over a wall, was it the Pirate King? When a ship sailed into port in the dark hours of night, was it him?

  As the fourth son of the conquering Pictish King, Cináed, Arthur wanted to prove himself to his father. He wanted to make his father proud, and show him that he, too, could be a conqueror. King Cináed was praised widely for having run off the Vikings, for saving his people, for amassing a vast and strong army. No one would dare encroach on his conquered lands when they would have to face the end of his blade.

  Arthur wanted that, too. He wanted to be feared. Awed. To hold his sword up and have devils come flying from the tip.

  So, it was on a fateful summer night in 854 that, at the age of ten and nine, Arthur amassed a crew of young and roguish Picts and stealthily commandeered one of his father’s ships. They blackened the sails to hide them from those on watch and began an adventure that would last a lifetime and beyond.

  The lads trolled the seas, boarding ships and sacking small coastal villages. In fact, they even sailed so far north as to raid a Viking village in the name of his father. By the time they returned to Oban, and the seat of King Cináed, all of Scotland was raging about Arthur’s atrocities. Confused, he tried to explain, but his father would not listen and would not allow him back into the castle.

  King Cináed banished his youngest son from the land, condemned his acts as evil, and told him he never wanted to see him again.

  Enraged and experiencing an underlying layer of mortification, Arthur took to the seas, gathering men as he went, and building a family he could trust that would not shun him. They ravaged the sea as well as the land—using his clan’s name as a lasting insult to his father for turning him out.

  The legendary Pirate King was rumored to be merciless, the type of vengeful pirate who would drown a babe in his mother’s own milk if she didn’t give him the pearls at her neck. As with most rumors, they were mostly steeped in falsehoods meant to intimidate. In fact, there may have been a wee boy or two he saved from an untimely fate. Whenever they came across a lad or lass in need, as Arthur himself had once been, he and his crew took them into the fold.

  One ship became two. And then three, four, five, until a score of ships with blackened sails roamed the seas.

  These were his warriors. A legion of men who adored him, respected him, followed him, and, together, they wreaked havoc on the blood ties that had sent him away. And generation upon generation, country upon country, they would spread far and wide until people feared them from horizon to horizon. Every Pirate King to follow would be named MacAlpin, so his father’s banishment would never be forgotten.

  Forever lords of the sea. A daring brotherhood, where honor among thieves reigns supreme, and crushing their enemies is a thrilling pastime.

  These are the Pirates of Britannia, and here are their stories…

  Chapter One

  Manta Cay, the Caribbean, 1720

  Amaro Pargo burst through the doors into Governor Wickham’s office. From the startled expression on Wickham’s face, he’d accomplished his goal of frightening the man before he’d even uttered a word.

  “Pargo!” The governor was apparently doing his best to get his voice under control, but it wavered and waffled as he spoke. “To what do I owe this great honor? You know I never have meetings here in my home. I would have been happy to meet you in town.”

  “No need. My business is here, with you.” Pargo moved around the room, taking in the extensive library, the fine leather chairs, and the desk where Wickham sat.

  His first mate, Agustin, had already positioned himself beside Wickham, flintlock pistol drawn.

  Moving with the grace of a cat, Pargo was across the room in three strides, leaning
across the desk only inches from the governor’s face. “You have something that belongs to me, and I wish to have it back.”

  Wickham sat, mouth agape, while Pargo smiled and continued to speak softly, as if chatting with an old friend. “Well, have you nothing to say?”

  “I don’t know what you mean? I have nothing of yours,” Wickham stammered, glancing quickly at Agustin and then back to Pargo.

  “I don’t believe you, sir.” Pargo spoke with certainty.

  He was sure the man knew exactly what he meant. He took a turn around the room, examining the books neatly lining shelf after shelf, the fine crystal decanters filled with wine and whisky, and finally plopping himself into an overstuffed leather chair in front of the desk. His steely gaze was locked on Wickham, who squirmed in his seat.

  “I’ve never boarded your ship,” Wickham protested.

  “I never said you were on my ship,” Pargo growled.

  Wickham glanced around the room, perhaps searching for a way to escape.

  A cynical smile appeared on Pargo’s face. “That is where I kept my treasure and now it is gone.”

  “What makes you think I took it?”

  “You are the governor. You know everything that happens on Manta Cay. You also have your hand in the pocket of every pirate that sets foot on your island.”

  “You’ve never paid me to dock Las Animas here.” The governor sat up taller in his chair, his voice stronger than before. He seemed to be getting his courage up. “You refused.”

  “And that angered you,” Pargo said, running his fingers across the smooth wood of the desk.

  “It is only the tax I collect from everyone who docks a ship here, but I understand that you, being the very important man you are, did not wish to pay.” Pargo was a hero in his homeland of Spain and on Tenerife, the island he called home. He was also a renowned pirate feared by anyone who’d ever heard his name and knew of his exploits.

  “And so, you took my treasure instead.”

  “No.” The governor stood and walked around his desk to stand in the center of the room. Agustin followed.

  “Guyton!” A female voice came from somewhere in the house.

  “Who is that?” Pargo asked.

  “One of the servants,” Wickham said, appearing even more nervous and distraught.

  “It’s his daughter,” Agustin said.

  “You have a daughter?” Pargo asked.

  “Yes, but she’s not here.” His distress was evident. Perhaps this daughter could be of use.

  “Agustin, find his daughter and bring her here. Perhaps she will convince her father to tell me where my treasure is.”

  “No. Please. I’ll tell you everything,” Wickham pleaded. He glanced nervously toward Agustin.

  A shot rang out, and the governor fell to the carpeted floor. Pargo’s sharp gaze focused on his first mate. “Agustin, you’ve shot him.”

  Agustin shrugged. “It was an accident. A slip of the finger.” He placed the pistol back in his belt and pulled out another.

  The governor was mortally wounded and sprawled out on the floor at his feet. He’d never get the information he sought from him now. He quickly rifled through the papers on the desk and seeing nothing, he turned to Agustin.

  “You are a fool!” he snarled.

  “Papa!” the voice of Wickham’s daughter came to them from a distance. “What was that sound?”

  “We must hide,” Pargo said.

  The two men opened the double windows that led out onto a small balcony. A large tree was close enough for them to climb into it and then drop to the ground beneath. If the girl found them, they would have to deal with her, but for now, they would wait safely hidden from view.

  The doors to Governor Wickham’s library flew open, and Lizette Wickham ran into the room. The sight of her father on the floor confirmed her worst fears. “Papa!” She dropped to her knees by his side. “Guyton!” she called as loudly as she could. Her father clutched her hand with a ferocity that surprised her. Lizette knew he was dying although she was hoping a miracle would occur. Blood oozed from the wound in his chest, seeping into the carpet. The papers on his ornate desk were strewn across the floor. Whoever had done this was searching for something, but what?

  Governor Wickham gasped for breath, trying to speak as his grip on Lizette’s hand tightened even more.

  “No, Father. Do not speak. Guyton!” she yelled. Where was her father’s servant? Why wasn’t he answering her?

  Tears rolled down her cheeks, dropping onto her father’s hand that she now held close to her heart.

  “Lizette…” he muttered along with a stream of incoherent words. She thought he’d said something about danger and treasure, but it made no sense. Then, in a moment of clarity and with a burst of strength, he said something that sent shivers through her. “Rourke Mackall.” She’d heard the name before. He was a pirate. His fearsome reputation was well known in these parts.

  “What about him, Father? Is he the man who shot you?” She lowered her head, hoping to hear him better.

  He opened his mouth one last time to speak but nothing came out. His eyes closed and his body went limp. He was gone. She held his hand to her lips, kissing it as her body shuddered with a type of pain she’d never experienced in all her years. She and her brother Daniel were alone in the world. It was just the two of them now. They had no one else.

  Sobbing from grief, Lizette’s heart nearly burst when the sound of pounding footsteps entered the room and a tall, dark-haired man walked toward her. Nothing about him seemed threatening, but the man who accompanied him held a pistol in his hand and had a dangerous glint in his eyes.

  “We heard the gunshot as we approached. We were to meet with the governor about some business.” The man gazed down at Lizette and her father. Is he…?”

  “He is dead,” Lizette cried.

  “What is your name, my dear?”

  “Lizette. I’m his daughter.”

  “Lizette, come, we must leave. You are in danger here.” He held out a hand to her.

  Was that what her father had been trying so desperately to tell her? Even still, she didn’t know this man. His heavily accented English told her he was Spanish, and from the looks of him, a pirate. His companion’s appearance only confirmed it. She couldn’t go with him.

  “No. I cannot leave my brother.”

  “Do not worry. He will come with us. We will take you aboard Las Animas. You will be safe there.”

  “But, my father.” He took her arm, lifting her from the floor to stand beside him.

  “Quickly now. Guyton will take care of your father’s body. Whoever did this may still be nearby.”

  “But…” She struggled to free herself, finding she didn’t have the strength. “Who are you?”

  “My men call me Pargo, but you can call me Tío.”

  “Tío?”

  “Sí. Uncle.” He offered her a sad smile. “We will avenge your father’s murder. You will see. We will talk more about what has happened once we are aboard Las Animas.”

  “Las Animas?” Lizette asked. Her head was spinning as she was hurried down the stairs to the sitting room where Guyton stood waiting with Daniel.

  “Guyton, Papa is upstairs. He is…” She glanced at Daniel. She had to tell him. She tried to shake her arm free, but the man’s iron grip held her in place.

  “Lizzie!” Daniel ran to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, fear in his voice.

  “It’s all right, Daniel.” She took a deep breath and gathered her wits. Daniel needed her now, more than ever. “We are going to go with these men to visit their ship.” She was about to leave the house she’d called home her entire life.

  She glanced at Guyton, silently pleading with him for help. He’d been her father’s servant far longer than she’d been alive. He was too old to do anything to stop what had happened or what was happening now, but he knew who to trust, and if she was reading him correctly, it wasn’t Pargo.

  “Did your
father say anything before he passed?” Pargo asked in a low voice.

  “Only a name,” she quietly answered.

  “What was it?”

  “Rourke Mackall.”

  “Dios mío. I suspected as much.”

  She pulled Daniel close, covering his ears with her hands. “What do you mean? Did he kill my father?” She struggled to keep from shouting in anger. She had to remember Daniel had no idea what was happening. She would tell him as soon as they were alone, but for now, it was best to keep it from him.

  “I’m afraid so, mi pequeña flor.” His voice sounded sad, but she wasn’t sure he was. His dark, penetrating gaze gave her no indication of what he might be thinking.

  “Do you think he wishes to kill us?” she asked, indicating herself and her brother.

  “Do not fear. Your father would want you to go with me. I will see to your safety.”

  But she did fear, and wasn’t sure she should believe him. She didn’t know this man. Her father never mentioned him.

  “My things. Daniel’s things. Couldn’t we go back upstairs to pack?”

  “My men will retrieve them.” His patience seemed to be wearing thin the more she spoke.

  He shouted orders to his men in Spanish, and they scrambled to do his bidding. Lizette noted they filled large bags with objects they passed along the way, and then climbed the stairs to the bedrooms. She thought about breaking free, but knew it would be futile. Lizette didn’t need anyone to tell her that Pargo was a dangerous man. Her life and her brother’s life depended on her ability to do what she needed to keep them alive.

  Holding tight to Daniel, they were hurried through the house, out the door, and into a waiting carriage, which would take them to the docks of Manta Cay. She took one last look back at Guyton who stood like a statue by the front doors where she’d spent many a happy day.

  Her mother had passed when she was quite young, and Lizette had no memory of her at all. Many years later, her father remarried. Sarah Wickham hadn’t been much older than Lizette at the time. She was a pretty but frail woman who’d died giving birth to Daniel, her baby brother. The small, perfect baby had become Lizette’s to care for and raise.