“Hurry, Caleb. When you return, join me in my room for dinner. I intend a ferocious headache and won’t be able to bear the thought of dining downstairs with Regan. Report to me as soon as you return.”

  Back in her room, Sirena pulled a bell cord to summon Juli. She told the girl to serve them dinner in her room. Sirena saw Juli’s curious look.

  “I feel the ailment coming upon me,” Sirena explained. “The one we Spaniards are so susceptible to. I wouldn’t want to infect anyone. Once it takes hold, it rages unmercifully. It will be best if perhaps you knock and leave the meals outside the door, as you did these past days. But set them inside the door after a time has passed, and relock the door with your key. The next day, if I’m still not well, and the food is untouched, take the plates back down to the kitchen. Do not let them pile up as you did before. Do you understand, Juli?” The native girl nodded. Sirena raised a slim hand to her face and said wanly: “I feel very ill. You’d better hurry!”

  Caleb returned to Sirena’s room shortly before the dinnertime in a state of near-hysteria.

  “What is it? Has something happened?” Sirena questioned anxiously.

  Caleb was finding it difficult to get the words out. “Aye, Sirena, at the wharf they speak of nothing but the woman who sank the Wanderer galleon. Everyone knows Regan wanted her for himself. They say the witch that captained the ship was barely interested in the cargo. All she wanted was to destroy the ship. Regan is in a fit of anger. The Spaniard smiles and says the Dutch are going to have a run of bad luck. The old fishermen say the black ship with the black sails was mystical. Regan’s sailors are telling everyone how that, once he picked up the crew of the galleon, he pursued the black ship through the storm. It seems that they had just glimpsed the top of our sails when we disappeared off the face of the earth. They say you’re an avenging angel.”

  “Disappeared off the face of the earth, did we?” Sirena cried jubilantly. “That must have been when we entered the mouth of the river!’

  “Captain Kloss was boasting that Regan could have run you through and dismantled you in minutes if he had so desired. They say that he was in a charitable mood and smitten by your beauty.”

  “Never!” Sirena snorted. “Regan only said that to save face. What else was mentioned?”

  “The Spaniard has sent two ships out to sea. They left less than an hour ago for Capetown. Both travel with a full cargo. The second galleon is escorted.”

  “What does she carry?”

  “Silk and cloves. Very costly at this time of year.”

  “And Regan, what of … him—Regan?”

  “The Java Queen leaves at dawn tomorrow. She’ll be loaded to the top of the hold. She carries cinnamon, nutmegs, and cloves.”

  “To which port?”

  “Straight through to Amsterdam, except for stopping at Enggano, off Sumatra, where Regan will disembark and return home in a fishing sloop. His plan is to see the Java Queen out of the waters where the female pirate lurks. And I heard Regan say the Queen comes back with an empty hold.”

  Quickly Sirena pulled the charts from the back of the closet. “If the tides are right we can leave the cove and river less than two hours from now. The Rana is light—and swift. We’ll catch up with the Spaniard’s ships, heavy as they are, not far beyond the Sunda Strait. This time we sail west, little brother! And after we attack and dismantle his ships, we can reverse course, and attack the Dutchman on our way home. It will be a tight schedule, but if the winds are in our favor it should work out well.”

  A knock sounded on the door and Sirena quickly thrust the charts and maps beneath the bed. “Who is it?” she called.

  “It’s your dinner,” Frau Holtz called through the door.

  “Very well, leave it. If I get hungry I’ll bring it in. Leave me now, please, for I feel rather ill.”

  “Very well, Mevrouw.”

  There followed a loud clatter and much muttering. Sirena smiled at Caleb who was grinning openly. Just the thought of going out to sea again was enough to make him happy.

  Suddenly Sirena unlocked and pulled open the door. “Frau Holtz,” she said, holding her hand to her forehead in a weary gesture.

  “Ja, Mevrouw,” the housekeeper acknowledged, straightening her back from placing the heavily loaded tray on the floor outside the door.

  “I have just spoken to my brother and he has agreed that we shall go into another retreat starting immediately. We’ve also decided to fast so there will be no need for you or Juli to bring food as often. The fasting will break this devilish ailment that has overtaken me. Don’t concern yourself over my health. It’s happened before and a few days of light fasting has always cured it. My brother will see to my needs. I also want to thank you for this sturdy bolt that was placed on my door. Remember, if you should knock there will be no answer. When we are in retreat we do not speak. It would defeat the purpose of the prayers. Do you understand me, Frau Holtz?”

  “Ja, Mevrouw,” Frau Holtz answered, her expression stating she didn’t and never would.

  “We’ll eat now. This meal will sustain us till the end of the retreat. God go with you,” Sirena sighed languidly.

  Frau Holtz turned and left abruptly. “Heathen ways,” she muttered on her way down to the kitchen. But, then, what did she care? For all she cared the Mevrouw could retreat till the moon was again full. Her room could gather dust and mildew till it was rank with it. If Mynheer didn’t care, why should she? Such a marriage! Never in her life had she heard of such a thing! She stomped her way into the kitchen and bit her tongue to keep from offering her complaints to the cook. Frau Holtz was not given to gossip concerning her employers.

  I must inform the master, Frau Holtz thought, unable to keep still any longer. God knows what he’ll say when he hears!

  The housekeeper entered the offices occupied by Regan on the first floor of the house and spoke hesitantly: “The Mevrouw … has gone into a … retreat. She wants no food and she’s bolted the door. Mevrouw said she will not answer any knock. Is she allowed to do this?”

  “Is she allowed to do this?” Regan parroted her. “Of course she is allowed to do this! The Spanish do things differently. If Mervrouw wants to stay locked in her room to pray, then allow her to do so. What seems to be the problem, Frau Holtz?”

  “Why—I—I—just thought that you should—”

  “Know what is going on? My dear lady,” Regan said coolly, “this will mean less work for the servants. You will obey my wife’s wishes and leave her and her brother to their prayers. Just because we do not believe as they do doesn’t mean we can’t respect their wishes. I wish to hear no more about the matter.”

  “But, Mynheer, I worry about the bolt on the door.”

  “Perhaps she is afraid of you, Frau Holtz. And this is her way of keeping you out of her eyesight. Have you thought of that?” he teased.

  “Why—I—”

  “You are not to concern yourself with my wife’s activities, is that clear,” Regan said, his voice firm and controlled.

  “Yes, I understand perfectly. Thank you, Mynheer.”

  Regan watched the housekeeper’s retreating back, a smile on his face. She was disturbed. Perhaps it would do her good. Too long she had reigned over his domain like a dowager queen.

  But a thought occurred to him. Who was Sirena. keeping out of her room—Frau Holtz or himself? She need not fear him, he had other fish in the ocean. He would be charitable and leave her to her prayers. With luck she would pray for his soul. And perhaps for a safe journey.

  His heart quickened momentarily—would he see the sea witch again? What would he do if she attacked his ship? He had never seen a more beautiful woman. The memory of those long, tawny legs haunted him. He drew in his breath at the thought of how she would bed. And there was no doubt in his mind that he would. bed her!

  Chapter Twelve

  Caleb’s eyes were apprehensive as he watched Sirena steer the frigate along the river. “At the most, you have a few minutes and the tide will ebb. Can you do it?” he asked anxiously.

  “Have no fear, little brother, the Rana will make open water—and safely.” Then her eyes turned from the wheel to look to the right of the ship—as did those of the men on deck. “One thing worries me, however. Sister Red, as you call her, there to the east. It is she against whose sides the Rana nestles, in our cove. Did you notice the warmness of the water surrounding the ship … and the red mist that hovers there, near her top, and around the mouth of the river?”

  “Aye, the men have been speaking of it. It will make your passing through the channel doubly hazardous, Sirena.”

  Sirena laughed, the sound bouncing off the jagged rocks of the red volcano’s slopes. “I can see, have no fear. The mist is high.”

  The boy clenched and unclenched his fists as he watched Sirena, her stance sure on the slow-moving Rana. The men in the rigging had as much fear of passing the rocks as he did. But confidence returned as he watched Sirena’s face. If she said they would reach the open waters safely, then they would. She had never been wrong before.

  Sirena glanced down at the frightened boy beside her. And immediately the feeling returned—the feeling that she’d seen Caleb before, sometime in her past, further back than the time he’d signed on to her merchant fleet in Cádiz. Even his walk, she realized, was familiar; and the sultry eyes haunted her.

  “Caleb,” she said impulsively, “have you ever traveled in Spain?”

  “I’ve only been in Cádiz, Sirena. Why?”

  “It’s … just that you seem so familiar to me—like someone I’d met before, not in Cádiz, for Father’s house was not there but in Seville.”

  “The only time I’ve been in Spain is when your uncle so kindly rescued me from the Lord Raleigh, when he saw me being whipped aboard the English ship, and encouraged me to sign oh with your fleet. I’d never visited your country before that time—though I’d learned enough Spanish through Carlos, the Raleigh’s cook.”

  Caleb threw back his head and laughed. “You seem puzzled, Sirena. I have never seen you in this mood. What is it about me that you don’t understand?”

  Sirena shuddered. The laugh! She had never heard Caleb laugh in quite that way. The way he threw back his head, and the sound of the laughter itself, was so reminiscent of someone … She wanted to reach out and touch the boy, thinking it would come to her. She forced herself to concentrate on the water and the slowly lowering thick reddish mist. “Open water ahead!” she shouted to the men on deck. “And not a minute to spare! Tighten sail.”

  Caleb breathed a heavy sigh of relief, as did Sirena, when they had passed through the narrow channel at the rocky mouth of the river.

  A shout of pleasure, and admiration, rose from the crew, and Jan came up to speak with her.

  “Does the crew fare well?” she asked.

  “Aye, Sirena. The booty from the last trip was quite enough for them. They have enough to last them the rest of their lives. As it is they lead a simple life, all their needs are for food and a little ale from time to time! They only want to be regarded as men again, save … Wouter,” Jan said softly. “The man worries me—and he’s ever been something of an outsider, Dutch though he is, and dismissed like all of your crew, from the same ship we once sailed. I would discharge him but I fear his tongue.”

  “He’s not content with his share of the booty?”

  “Those are his words, but Martin says his eyes say the meaning of the word ‘booty’ is not … ‘goods’. He wants you, Capitana,” Jan said bluntly. Sirena flinched. “Every seaman aboard keeps him within eye range. But he grows more hostile as the days go on.”

  “I’ve noticed, Jan. My gut does strange things when I’m forced to look at him. One of these days …”

  Caleb’s face drained as he imagined what “one of these days” might bring.

  “But enough! I told them I’d play fair with them. I want no ill feelings among the men.”

  “Aye, Capitana. That would never happen. They say that you’re the best captain they ever sailed under. The fact that you manage the straits almost makes you a sorceress in their eyes!”

  Sirena acknowledged the compliment humbly, her eyes straining ahead of her. She turned to Caleb. “Get some rest, little brother. Soon you’ll need all of your strength.”

  Sirena gripped the wheel as Jan left her, with the boy. Her hands were moist and clammy. On coming through the straits she had moments of misgiving. She would never again cut it so close. And of course all the expertise she possessed could not get a ship through those narrow waterways if the tide was low. One day, if in retreat from Regan or Chaezar, she found the river mouth shallow … She pushed the thought from her mind. Now the question was: Would she be able to attack and ravage both of the Spaniard’s ships? The ship riding as escort with heavy cannon troubled her. She prayed that night would soon fall.

  Clouds covered the night sky.

  Excellent! Sirena thought. A black ship. The black night. If only we’d been able to depart sooner … Where are the Spanish ships?

  “Sail ho!” came a muted cry from the rigging of the Rana.

  Sirena picked up the spyglass and squinted into it. In the dim moonlight that filtered through a sudden break in the cloud cover, she saw them. Dead ahead at five knots, she estimated quickly. She lowered the glass in time to see Caleb poke his head around the wheel.

  “Softly, little brother. Remember, your voice will carry across the water as clear as a bell. The brig sails in the second galleon’s wake. I do not spy the first galleon, but who cares? We’ll cripple the two behind and lower Alvarez’s prestige as we lower their sails! But we must fire simultaneously. One shot broadside into each of them and they’ll buckle. We’ll have time for only the one shot so it must be true on its mark. We’ll get no second chance. Pray God that the moon does not decide to peep out before the shots are fired. Now … silent as the dead, little brother.”

  Caleb nodded as he scampered off to give her orders. He was back in moments. “On your count of five we fire,” he said softly. “Have no fear, Sirena, the shots will be true on their mark. All hands are on the quarterdeck.”

  Moments later, whispered orders passed from Sirena to Caleb, and down to Jan and his gunners. On the count of five a double roar split the night as the cannon shots found their mark. Sirena held the glass to her eye and watched men spill into the sea as others ran over the two ships’ decks. Hoarse shouts of fear and alarm raged in the night. The first rays of the moon lighted the night as the Rana ran broadside of the broken galleon. The brig was listing to starboard as its men leaned on the rail, not sure yet what had happened. “Take the wheel, Caleb. Steady as she goes.”

  Sirena raced to the bow, her cutlass hanging loosely in her hand. “Surrender!” she called, her voice high and clear, “and there will be no bloodshed. Shout for quarter and you can take to the jolly-boats!”

  “It’s the pirate witch,” someone shouted. “We give no quarter! We sail with silks to Spain, our mother country.”

  “Your country’s people need food in their bellies, not silks,” Sirena shouted. “Silks are only to make fat merchants fatter. I’ll count three and if you still call no quarter, you go into the sea. We fire on the count of three.”

  The heavy cannon fired on Sirena’s count of three.

  “Fools!” Sirena shouted. “Why didn’t you listen? I don’t speak to myself and to the open sea. You had your chance!”

  The galleon was fast sinking. Sirena. ordered her gunners to blast its jolly-boats with shot. Those proud merchantmen would feed the sharks! The men on the brig sent to escort the merchant ship, warriors that they might be, were now shouting, “Quarter! Quarter!”

  “Move quickly, you have but minutes,” Sirena yelled to the brig’s crew as she swung down from the ship’s wheel with the aid of the rigging. She raced to the Rana’s quarterdeck and leaned over, calling: “Is there a man among you who carries a hook for a hand? Think before you answer or a shot will go into your jolly-boats too, and you’ll all be fodder for the sharks!”

  “There’s no man aboard the brig with a hook for a hand. And none that we know of on the galleon,” came the captain’s fearful reply.

  “You lie!” Sirena hissed. “Show me your hands. I’ll cut out your tongues if you’re lying to me!”

  “There’s no hook among us,” the man said bravely. “I give me word there’s no man with a hook!”

  “Tell me, have you ever heard of such a man? But remember your tongue! A gaping hole in a man’s face is nothing to be proud of!”

  “I have heard of such a man. They say he killed the Dutchman’s wife and may have stolen his son. That was the story years ago. Since that time, I myself have never heard of him.” Confident now that his tongue would remain intact, the man boldly asked why she was seeking him out.

  “That is my business, seaman! If you’re fortunate enough to find yourself in a port, tell the story that I look for such a man, as does van der Rhys. I’ll sink every ship I meet on the seas till I find the man. He’ll be like the teredo worm. He’ll emerge or his fellow seamen will kill him and send me his body.”

  “What if the Dutchman finds him first?” the man asked boldly.

  Sirena laughed, the sound tinkling over the water like musical chimes. “Then I’ll kill the Dutchman and take the man with the hook from him. The man with the hook belongs to me.”

  The sudden hush was proof that the men on the brig believed every word the woman said.

  “I’m in a charitable mood, so cast off before I change my mind—as we women have a tendency to do!”

  The seamen needed no second warning; they set the brig’s jolly-boats adrift, pulling frantically at the oars and never looking back.

  “Tighten sail and heave to,” Caleb called from his stance at the wheel.

  A smile played about Sirena’s lips, amusement sparkled in her eyes. “Somehow those jolly-boats will get to port and I can imagine the stories that’ll be told. No doubt they’ll say how well they fought and how a quirk of fate gave me the advantage.”