The War at Sea

By Laurie Bowler

His powers could save the ocean. Her vendetta could sink a kingdom.

 

In the gripping adventure of The War at Sea, Captain Elouise Farrington and Captain Rylander Bordeaux find themselves entangled in a deadly game of revenge and betrayal.

 

Elouise, driven by a desire for vengeance, must choose between personal retribution or joining forces with her hypnotic enemy to bring an end to the brutal War of the Sea. Meanwhile, Rylander, the revered navy captain, must confront his past and trust a bloodthirsty pirate in order to fulfil his mission of defeating the Siren Queen. As they navigate treacherous waters and face the ultimate test of courage, Elouise and Rylander's fates become intertwined, and the line between ally and enemy becomes dangerously blurred.

 

In this thrilling tale of power and redemption, the battle for the ocean's salvation hangs in the balance, leaving readers yearning to know who will prevail and at what cost.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blackhawk Publishing
• Release date: May 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223868453

Laurie Bowler

Laurie Bowler is a bestselling fantasy author residing in Hampshire, a county in the United Kingdom, where she started writing fantasy fiction in late November 2009.    After reading hundreds of fantasy novels, Laurie knew she wanted to write within that genre. She set her mind to writing her first novel, 'Vanquished', which was then quickly followed by the award-winning Moon Rising series.  Laurie attended college and has gained qualifications in Creative Writing, Music and Health and Social Care. She is still undertaking as many academic courses as possible to improve her knowledge.  Laurie lives with her daughter, fiance and a houseful of pets, including eight cats and three dogs, to name just a few. Her new novel Mythical and its sequel, The Battle of Evov, have both been an immense adventure and creativity of her mind. 

Book preview

Chapter One

Lou

Cold steel chilled my throat as my sworn enemy used the blade’s tip to forcibly lift my head so my eyes gazed into his. I stared into the diamond eyes of the man I’d vowed to kill.

My breath hitched. The rumours—of eyes that brought men and women to their knees—hadn’t prepared me. Colourless as glass, the sparkling irises lured me into a dreamlike state, blurring the world around me. Gone were the ever-present sounds of the waves lapping at the ship, the wind whipping the sails, the mournful squawks of seagulls overhead. An invisible vice sealed my windpipe, causing heat to bloom across my cheeks. How was he doing this? Were the legends true?

Stories of his power ran rampant in port-side taverns where pirates, privateers, and sailors passed their time during their stay on land. Some said he could paralyse with a single look, charm with one word, and kill with one touch. Until this moment, I’d cast off the tales as the usual scuttlebutt, but I’d been wrong. This man, this monster, had turned me into a travelling performer’s marionette with his eyes.

Finally, he blinked, though his sword held steady against my throat. My breath found me again, the trance severed. The seagulls screeched. The boat’s gentle rock returned. His dark hair was blown back by the wind, revealing his wide throat and pulsing Adam’s apple. My breathing evened.

Captain? he asked.

A legend to most, my adversary was the youngest captain of one of the largest ships in the Caviar Sea until I inherited my captain’s rank at age seventeen, only a year ago. They called him the Emperor of the Ocean, Captain Rylander Bordeaux. I called him my intended prey.

When I didn’t respond, he continued in a commanding timbre, Remove your hat. Captain Bordeaux flashed me a knowing, lopsided grin.

My jaw clenched, but I dared not move.

A tattooed seafarer stepped forward from Bordeaux’s ranks and pointed his revolver at my head. Don’t make the captain ask again. The gravel in his voice no doubt came from years of grog, smoke, and long months at sea. He jingled with piercings—a row framing his ear from top to lobe and one through his brow—and his round belly peeked through the stretched buttonholes of his shirt.

Manners, Bernard, Captain Bordeaux said, those icy diamond eyes unwavering.

Bernard peeled his lip upward, flashing rotten, yellowed teeth in a smug smirk. He tilted his pistol toward the sky. The muscles in his bulky arm contracted as he fired off a warning shot. Most of the crew jumped, but I didn’t flinch. It’d take more than a bullet to scare me into submission, but I had other lives to consider.

Inch by inch, I removed the pins securing my father’s tricorn hat to my hair. Blond locks fell over my shoulders, swaying halfway down my back. Several of Bordeaux’s men gasped. Their captain, however, appeared more pleased than surprised. The muscles around his mouth relaxed as he lowered his weapon and stepped forward.

Captain Elouise Farrington, the first woman captain of The Freedom, Captain Bordeaux declared, jutting his chin for the theatrics. I’ve been looking for you.

No one but my mother, gods rest her soul, called me Elouise. The plague had killed that name, along with her, ten years ago. My hands balled into fists at my sides. It’s Captain Lou. I lunged at him.

A new body stepped between us. Watch yourself, girl. He was tall with a shaven face, short blond curls, and a perfect nose. A long scar dragged across his forehead and through his eyebrow, interrupting the hair growth. This is not the fight you want to start. The muscles on his forearm flexed, causing his tattoo of a caduceus—a winged staff climbed by two entwined snakes—to dance. I guessed this was the first mate—Smitter, a proclaimed devotee of Hermes if the stories were accurate.

My apologies for my men. They are a tad bit overprotective, Captain Bordeaux said, nudging the mate out of the way and tipping his brown hat. Its white plume caught the wind, the barbs ruffling in the breeze. My name is Captain Rylander Bordeaux of The Sea Singer, but my friends call me Rye.

We will never be friends, I spat.

Rylander’s lips twitched. Shame. I’m hoping you’ll change your mind. He leaned his hip against a stack of wooden crates on the deck and crossed his arms.

Was he mimicking me?

His smirk told me yes. I noted the curve of his broad cheekbones, the hint of a dimple in his right cheek, and the strong edge of his jaw. I looked forward to slashing my dagger across them later. Dark waves curled over his forehead, the skin there kissed by the sun during countless hours above deck. A cognac-coloured leather tunic—too expensive for a common pirate—lay open, exposing a sweat-drenched linen shirt clinging to the peaks and valleys of lithe muscle. A large cutlass swayed from a matching bandolier, and a gilded amulet filled with water dangled from his neck, resting just below his collarbone. The liquid sloshed of its own accord like a captive wave. I’d never seen such a talisman. In all, he had a bold, memorable presence, which doubtlessly lent itself to the countless tavern tales.

I dropped my arms to my sides but did not speak.

I’ve been looking for you for some time. The Freedom is a hard ship to track.

Well, you found me. I waved my hands, gesturing to everyone on the deck. You found all of us. What do you want of The Freedom? Or did you come all this way to see my hair let down?

Rylander chuckled while his first mate’s eyes narrowed. From the way he held himself and the deep creases around his mouth, I guessed Smitter at twice Rylander’s age, an experienced adventurer.

It’s beautiful, lass, but nay, that is not why we boarded your fine ship.

I ignored them and took stock of my weaponless crew, their injuries, and potential opportunities for an uprising. My throat hitched; I shared the feelings of powerlessness on my crew’s faces. In the blink of an eye, we had been rendered helpless. It had all been a blur. One moment, we’d been loading cannons and shoving back their boarding planks, and the next, we were disarmed and captured. Although none of the wounds appeared fatal, the blow to our pride was a harsh one. I needed to stall, prepare a move.

The smell of gunpowder lingered in the air, tickling the back of my throat. I covered my mouth with a fist and coughed. Well, if you wanted a tour of The Freedom, all you had to do was ask nicely.

I may take you up on that later, but it’s not why we boarded. He motioned to Smitter. Fetch Captain Lou some water.

I waved him off. I’m shipshape, and I’d rather get on with your mysterious business here.

Rylander nodded. We will have plenty of time for pleasantries later, certainly. Let me get straight to the point, then. I’ve come to make a deal with you on behalf of King Delphi.

My jaw popped open.

The words struck me momentarily speechless. My great grandfather designed The Freedom as a specialty ship when the War of the Sea first started. Many had tried to commandeer her since. It wasn’t surprising King Delphi coveted her. But his deal-making would mean succumbing to the crown’s demands and giving up my post as captain. I’d sooner die than hand her over.

No, it was the king’s choice of messenger that surprised me. Captain Rylander’s close relationship with King Delphi was no secret, but I’d never heard of him doing the king’s bidding like a loyal hunting dog. Why hadn’t the crown sent the Royal Navy after us? Why choose Rylander?

No.

No? The smirk widened. Don’t you want to hear the details before saying no?

I glanced to his right at a lanky young sailor with skin untainted by tattoos, scars, or piercings. He had the promise of muscles, but no calluses. A new recruit.

With little thought, I swiped my leg out, hooking my boot behind his calves. Wrenching myself forward as he toppled to the ground, I unsheathed his sword and held it under his chin.

I will kill him, I threatened, pressing more of the blade into his neck. Leave The Freedom, and you will all have your lives. Stay and try to take us, and I will kill each and every one of you.

Smitter and Bernard lunged forward, but Rylander slammed his arms across their chests to push them back. Stop!

With my free hand, I yanked the terrified boy to his feet, pricking his tender flesh with my weapon. A thin trickle of blood stained the neckline of his shirt. Eyes bulging, he groaned through clenched teeth.

Don’t tempt me. His life means nothing to me. I will never hand over The Freedom.

Rylander released his men and held up his palms in surrender, one eyebrow raised. That’s not what I am proposing. If you’d let me speak, you’d already know that. Do you always react first and ask questions second?

When I didn’t respond, he stepped forward, sighing dramatically. I ask that you kindly let go of Lanard. He’s not to blame. If you want to take someone into your arms, take me. The cocky bastard winked. I’ll at least enjoy it.

I scowled. If not for my code, I’d have Lanard’s life already, out of spite. But alas, the boy hadn’t anything to do with the vengeance burning in my heart against his captain.

If you touch me, it’ll be the last thing you feel, I spat. I’ll take your fingers off one by one and feed them to the sharks.

As fun as it might be watching you try, could you please unhand my man? Rylander wagged his head like a disappointed parent. King Delphi does not want to take your ship. Nor do I. We want to join forces.

My nose scrunched in disgust. A truce? You want to work together? My blood boiled that he, of all people, dared proposition my alliance. Why? And for what cause?

Rye gestured toward my hold on Lanard.

I shook my head, refusing to give up my only leverage.

It all happened so fast. Rye grabbed his pistol and fired before I saw it come free of the holster. My head lurched back from the force, and I dropped my stolen weapon. The handle clanked against the deck, out of reach. I sucked in air as the white-hot pain seared my skin. The gunshot and the pounding of my heart echoed in my ears.

Smitter grabbed Lanard and pulled him to safety. Screams and gasps from both crews were muffled by my racing pulse. Warmth and wetness coated my earlobe.

You shot me, I yelled, cupping my injured ear to staunch the bleeding.

It’s a scratch. You’ll live, Rylander deadpanned. He holstered his pistol. I’d like your full attention. You’re burning time. Time that we do not have.

Smitter tossed me a dark smile, a gold tooth glinting in the front of his mouth. His sun-kissed face crinkled like old leather.

We want to end the War of the Sea, but we need something only your ship can offer.

Ah, so that’s what you’re after.

The Freedom and its sailors were immune to the sea’s worst treacheries. With a crew composed mostly of women, we sailed any waters we wished, without fear of the vicious creatures known as sirens calling us to our deaths and consuming our hearts. We were two generations of salty females, skilled at fighting pirates, steal treasures, and evade the songs of our enemy. Over the years, we’d become known as a refuge for women. We trained them, fed them, and gave them shelter when they had none. I’d grown up on this ship, wielding a sword at age nine, joining the crew at thirteen, and leading it at seventeen, after my father’s murder.

But the War of the Sea still affected us. Yes, we were immune to the seductresses below, and they hated us for it. They pilfered ships we pursued, killed the men we sought, and took treasures we coveted. In my darkest hours, I believed my lack of command had pitted the sirens against us. I couldn’t understand how my father had evaded them, and for that reason alone, Rylander’s offer piqued my interest, as much as I hated to admit it.

And what can you trade in return for our help? I raised a brow.

Rylander flexed the apples of his windburned cheeks. What would you like, milady? Jewels? Gold? What riches do you fancy?

I matched his smirk with a snicker. The wheels in my mind spun an answer of retribution. We can pilfer our own fortunes. I want a different reward. I crossed my arms. A man is what I want.

Rylander’s guttural laughter stirred the gulls. He tucked stray brown curls behind his ear. I have hundreds of men who would love to lay their heads next to yours, Captain Lou. He waved his hands around him. You may have your pick.

I choose the killer of my captain. His head severed by my hand and served on a platter to this crew. I motioned to my female fleet. Only then will we assist you in ending the War of the Sea.

Rylander’s mouth turned down, but it was young Lanard who asked the question. How do you expect us to find the man who killed your last captain? he snarled. Do you even know his name?

I smiled, taking long-absent pleasure in breathing the name of my father’s killer. Captain Rylander Bordeaux.

Chapter Two

Rylander

My men cried out at Lou’s suggestion. A bold request, indeed, and one I empathised with despite my inability to concede.

Smitter snorted and gripped his belt, clenching the worn leather tight enough to whiten his knuckles. A threat toward his captain equalled a threat against his ship, the travellers he protected, but most importantly, his duty. Sink me, you are a wicked woman. Thank the Gods not all are created in your form.

Lou beamed like he’d complimented her. She tapped her fingers against her biceps as if waiting for more laurels.

Smitter rotated to face the crew. Calm down, men. The life of our captain is in no danger. Having quieted their stomping and yawping, his focus returned to Lou. Even if Rye were willing to surrender his last breath to you,—he glared in my direction, likely upset with my lack of argument—he cannot make the exchange. Your request must be brought before King Delphi as the sponsor of our efforts. I am sure we will come to a mutually beneficial agreement on the details of our arrangement. But for now, our duty is to bring you to the Isle of Cava and be witness to your meeting. To hurry things up, as you so kindly requested... Are you willing or not?

Lou leisurely inspected her nails, taking several beats before answering. Even if I say yes to conferring with the king, what makes you believe I will follow your ship to port?

I stalked toward her, my heavy boots thumping with authority. You and three of your crew will board The Sea Singer and sail with us back to the Isle of Cava, while Smitter follows at the helm of The Freedom. I’m confident your loyal crew will not stray far from your position.

You believe I would leave my ship? Lou threw her head back with a deep, merciless laugh.

I frowned. Few women had ever mocked me.

You are even more daft than I imagined. And what do you have to offer us in exchange for facing the brunt of siren attacks? Why would we even need you? She raked her eyes over my body, lingering for a moment at my mouth before diverting her gaze to my crew. What do you bring to the table in a battle, aside from a whole ship of liabilities?

I licked my lips before grinning, taking care to cock an eyebrow. Other than my charm and devilish good looks?

You fancy yourself a little too much, Captain. Be aware that I’ve seen better.

Despite her show, she refused to meet my stare, which declared her attraction like a gunshot. It wasn’t her fault. I had been born a seducer, a gift from my mother.

Outside of my charisma, I do have something else unique.

Oh? she scoffed. And what could that possibly be?

Information.

And what knowledge could be so invaluable, so tempting, that a crew of unconquerable pirates could profit from it?

My lips curled. I know where the Siren Queen sleeps. I can chart her exact location.

The crew of The Freedom gasped, but to her credit, Lou’s eyes only widened for a moment. I ignored the whispers of disbelief blooming on deck. Only a select few knew how I’d obtained that information.

I don’t believe you. Lou’s amber eyes narrowed. Her voice lowered, as if murmuring to herself. No one has been able to find her. Ever. Her muttering became a thunderous boom. It’s why the war rages on. Anyone who even nears the shores of the siren island succumbs to the song.

She wasn’t wrong. No man, but I had the ability to get that close.

How? Her brows rose as she tilted her head.

That is not something I’m willing to share until a deal with King Delphi has been struck. Are you willing to at least hear him out?

Lou ground her teeth, but with a slight bob of her chin, she agreed.

I turned to my crew. Put away your weapons and return to The Sea Singer. Smitter, take five men to accompany you on The Freedom.

My crew moved with haste to follow my orders. I extended the crook of my arm to Lou. Captain, will you accompany me to my ship?

Lou eyed my elbow like it carried an incurable disease and pushed it out of her way. Dara, Lianna, and Krinny, with me. The rest of you,—every woman’s spine snapped to attention—to your posts. Ready The Freedom to sail. We leave for the Isle of Cava immediately.

Three women emerged from the crowd, each wearing billowy blouses, formfitting breeches, and coal-black boots fitted with shining silver buckles in the fashion of their captain. Judging by the shoes’ perfect mould to the women’s calves and the lack of grime, I wagered a cordwainer had joined their ranks.

Lanard, please escort these women to their rooms below deck. Make them comfortable and fetch them anything they request. I paused, adding, Within reason.

A pale-faced Lanard acknowledged my order with a slight tip of his chin. He kept a healthy distance from Captain Lou as he ushered the procession to the wooden planks bridging our ships.

I couldn’t blame him for his wariness. Lanard was no stranger to demise, having endured far worse than a sword to his throat. His father, Domain, had been slaughtered by a siren while part of my crew. A tragedy that marked The Sea Singer’s last encounter with the sirens’ imperial clan. Despite his rightful distrust of Captain Lou, he’d never disapprove of our alliance. To end the War of the Sea was paramount for all of us.

As I watched Lou lead her women across the planks, the youngest of the bunch, a petite thing with frizzing brown curls, nervously peeked over each shoulder and reached for a willowy woman’s hand. I knew the slender blonde from a brief encounter back on Cava, a meeting neither of us would make known. They threaded fingers, exchanging words I didn’t catch. The fourth woman, though, gave me pause. The tense creases around her eyes and lips were visible at a distance. Older. Wiser. She towered over most of my men. She walked with stiff shoulders as rigid as her severe black bun. Her gaze darted in every direction, as if cataloguing details for a later attack. I wondered if this troubling, unusual woman was Captain Lou’s trusted assassin.

As everyone returned to their stations and prepared to sail back to port, I admired my ship from across the waters. The Sea Singer, secretly constructed by King Delphi’s men, was a gift for my nineteenth birthday. Twice the size of The Freedom, it held over two hundred men, many of whom, like me, had once pledged their loyalty to the Royal Navy. Old bronze lanterns adorned the stern, and the bowsprit stretched into a piercing apex. Crushed, black-lipped pearls were pressed into the inscription of the ship’s name on the port side. It served as a homing beacon for my contact under the waves. Contrary to its reputation, The Sea Singer was no ordinary pirate ship. The vessel was designed to chart the waters to the siren island so I could kill the queen. But each excursion failed, good men paying with their lives.

Bernard placed his hand on my shoulder. The rough calluses on his palm snagged my linen shirt as he gave me a hard squeeze. It was the grip of a skilled voyager, a man who had handled hard rigs and ropes all his life. Captain Lou is going to be a problem. Do we really need her assistance? She ain’t someone we can ever trust, especially you. How in the underworld do we work alongside her?

I understood his hesitation, but I knew that sometimes the most unlikely allies offered the most valuable aid. I placed my hand atop his and squeezed. Too many men have lost their lives. I’ve exhausted my strategies. It’s time for a change.

I pray to Poseidon, you’re right. But no matter our fates, your life ain’t negotiable. Why don’t you tell her why her father is dead? Maybe she’ll—

I cut Bernard off. No.

Bernard shook his head, mumbling under his breath before leaving me to my own devices.

Smitter approached. We are all set here. Are you sure about this?

You sound like Bernard. Are you worried about my safety as well? I smiled, throwing an arm over Smitter’s broad shoulders. He stood a few inches shorter than me, but his bulk made him appear larger.

You do tend to make my job of protecting you more troublesome than needs be. He tried to shove out of my embrace, but I held onto him hard. Smitter’s rank as first mate hadn’t been a coincidence. The king handpicked him. Since childhood, Smitter had been part of my life, my education, and my family, always watching over me.

Uncle, you worry too much, I sniped.

And you worry too little, nephew.

I released him and avoided his reproachful glare. I hated when he looked at me like I had lost all sense. Smitter, although a fan of games and mischief, found no humour in matters of my safety. There are no longer any options. We have no choice.

Smitter