The Bartered Bride Read Free

head, a huge, half-naked Malay with a wild black beard stepped inside. He carried a wicked, wavy-bladed kris dagger, and elaborate tattoos covered most of his visible skin. From his bearing and the richness of his ornaments, she guessed he was the pirate chief. "Keep away," she ordered, trying to project authority.
    "Drop gun," he said in a thick, barely intelligible accent. Despairingly she acknowledged her helplessness, for one bullet wasn't enough to save them.
    The chief advanced a step, his men crowding in behind him. She raised the pistol, the barrel level with his heart. At this range, she couldn't miss. "One more step and I'll kill you." He smiled, revealing betel nut-stained teeth that had been filed to points. "Surrender-live. Shoot-both die."
    Alex's pistol wavered. Her single bullet could be used to save Katie from assault or slavery. But dear God in heaven, she couldn't kill her own child!
    Taking advantage of her hesitation, the pirate wrenched the pistol away. Uncocking it with the ease of familiarity, he thrust it into the waistband of his sarong. His eyes narrowed as he studied his captives. He was a barbarian, but his dark eyes were shrewd. His gaze judged Alex's face and figure like a farmer judging livestock.
    She flinched back when one coarse hand caressed her cheek. While there was life, there was hope. She would demand they be ransomed. Her family was well connected, so she and Katie were far more valuable as hostages than as slaves.
    The chieftain's hand moved to Katie's hair, golden in the early morning light. "Pretty." He reached to lift the girl from the bunk.
    "No!" Clutching her daughter with both arms, Alex kicked at her captor. Swearing, he dodged and her foot struck only his thigh. A hand motion brought two men forward to pin Alex roughly to the bunk while the chieftain swept Katie from her mother's arms. Panicky, Katie struck at him with her fists. "Mama! Mama!"
    "Katie!" Frantically Alex tried to fight her way to her daughter. With contemptuous ease, the chieftain reversed his kris and struck her head with the hilt.
    She was unconscious even before her screaming daughter was carried away.

CHAPTER 2
    Maduri Harbor, East Indies, Autumn 1834
    The island of Maduri was protected by dangerous shoals and forbidding volcanic cliffs, making the one good harbor even more welcoming. As the schooner Helena dropped anchor, Gavin Elliott's young first mate said, "It's a handsome city, Captain. I'd have thought Maduri would look more wicked." Gavin grinned. Benjamin Long was a fine Yankee sailor with plenty of experience, but this was his first voyage to the East Indies. "The Islands are dangerous in their variety. There's no more beautiful place on God's earth, and none more treacherous. Some of the finest people you'll ever meet live here, and some of the most brutal. The islands that look civilized, like Maduri, are where you need to be most wary because it's easy to think the men who live here are like us. They're not." Benjamin shaded his eyes to study the gleaming white palace that crowned the highest of Maduri's rugged hills. "The men are a little uneasy about coming here. The Portuguese carpenter claims that Sultan Kasan is an eater of souls."
    "More likely a torturer of flesh, but he's a shrewd ruler who values trade. I've never heard of a Western ship being troubled here." Maduri was safe because anyone who broke the sultan's law risked being skinned alive, very slowly, or maybe roasted over a fire, but Gavin didn't mention that. Sailors were a superstitious lot. No point in disturbing them unnecessarily.
    "There might've been no trouble in the past, but I don't mind admitting this place makes me uneasy, too." Benjamin's sober gaze followed a large, elaborately decorated prau rowing smartly toward them across the sun-splashed harbor. It was an official vessel, probably the local harbormaster and customs agents.
    "We'll be here only a day or two. Just long enough to drop off our cargo and take on