“But there was so little time,” Sirena protested.

  “What you say is true. It’s over now. When the lava cools the men will return to the island and try to rebuild and start over.”

  “But that will take years,” she said in a muffled voice.

  “Aye, years. Many years and then there will be years after that while they wait for the trees to grow again. If they grow at all,” he said ominously. “It will depend on how much damage the lava did and how heavy it lays.”

  Sirena shook her head in wonderment at this bizarre happening. Thank God she had dragged the housekeeper aboard or she would no doubt be lying under the burning wharf.

  “Jan, how long will this odious choking air be with us?”

  “Till the wind shifts, and then it may be days. Go below, Capitana, where it is not so thick. I can manage the wheel.”

  “All right,” Sirena acquiesced, “I want to look in on the housekeeper to see how she fares.”

  Quietly, Sirena opened the door of the cabin which had once housed Caleb and where now the aging housekeeper slept. For some strange reason, tears burned at her eyes when she gazed down at the sleeping woman. Wisps of iron-gray hair lay on her high, wide forehead and her skin was soot-smudged, giving her an old, haggard appearance. Without thinking, she brushed gently at the stray locks of hair and gently wiped the dirt from the housekeeper’s cheekbones. Frau Holtz stirred fretfully, muttering under her breath. One long arm brushed the air and then lay still at her side. Sirena turned to leave when the faded blue eyes opened.

  “Frau Holtz, it is I, Sirena. just came to see how you were. Try to sleep, you look worn out.”

  “Ja,” the woman said harshly. “I am tired and find it difficult to breathe, why is that?”

  “The Sisters erupted a while ago. The air on deck is horrendous. It is best to stay below and rest. I’m going to do the same. Have no fear,” she said gently, “I’ll put you ashore as soon as Willem says it’s safe.”

  “Ja, I have no liking for ships and water. I want my feet on ground with trees and houses around me.”

  “I understand, Frau Holtz. I’m sorry that the men had to force you aboard. You see, I couldn’t leave you behind to … die. I knew you must be on the wharf waiting for something, and everything was in such chaos I had to do something.”

  The housekeeper shook her head. “I was waiting for the Mynheer.”

  “Then he wasn’t on the island?” Sirena said in a relieved tone.

  “No, Mevrouw. He never returned with the boy.” Boldly, her faded eyes took in Sirena’s scanty attire and she pursed her mouth into a tight, grim line.

  Sirena smiled slightly at her disapproving look. “I find that my … costume is … different and gives me much freedom. Perhaps if you wished I could fashion a similar one for you,” she teased.

  The watery eyes twinkled suddenly. “Ja, Mevrouw, and a sight I would be. If I was younger, perhaps, and with the body you have I might agree. As it is, I will have to keep these rags on my back,” she said, looking at her scorched and tattered gown of gray silk.

  Sirena laughed happily. “Tell me, Frau Holtz, how long have you known of my … dual identity?”

  The housekeeper smiled. “From the moment I noticed the spindrift in your hair. Ailment indeed! You may have been able to fool your husband, but you couldn’t fool me!”

  “You knew and didn’t tell Regan?” Sirena’s voice held an incredulous note.

  “Ja … I’m not the only one who knew your secret. Didn’t you ever question the sturdiness of the trellis at your window or the stoutness of the vine which you climbed up and down? On the nights when you were gone, Juli and I lashed it to the trellis on more than one occasion. Caleb isn’t quite as nimble-footed as you. Many times I stood in the courtyard and waited for your return. There was one time when I posted Juli at the top of the rise to be your lookout. I was worried,” she said simply, “you’d been gone for weeks!”

  “And yet you kept my secret from Regan? I can’t fathom it, Frau Holtz.”

  “Ja … I was proud of your daring feats. I cheered you behind closed doors as did most of the women in the Indies.”

  “I don’t understand, I thought the women most of all wanted to see me drawn and quartered. Now you say you were proud of me. Why?”

  “The van der Rhys family always treated me well, but before I came to them I’ve had my share of suffering at men’s hands.” Her eyes became stormy as they seemed to be looking into the distant past.

  Pulling herself back to the present, Frau Holtz continued, “Every woman has, at one time or another, wanted to strike out at men for the injustices imposed on us. But Mevrouw, some day that will all change!” Frau Holtz said earnestly. “The Sea Siren was a forerunner of the woman of the future. Now do you understand why I’m proud of you?”

  “I … I think so.” Suddenly Sirena laughed and bent down to embrace the older woman. “You knew all the time,” she marveled.

  “Ja,” Frau Holtz smiled happily.

  “Then that makes us compatriots of a sort, doesn’t it?”

  The housekeeper nodded, then asked: “Where do you go, Mevrouw, when you leave me off at one of the islands?”

  “Back to Spain. There’s nothing left for me here.”

  “And the child you carry?”

  “You know that, too?”

  “I’ve lived a long time, Mevrouw. There’s little that I don’t know. Besides,” she smiled, “there’s that look in your eyes. You’re in your fourth month. Have you felt the babe quicken?”

  “Yes. But I’ll arrive in Spain before my time is due. I’m sorry that you won’t be with me,” Sirena said sincerely.

  Frau Holtz stirred from the bunk and tried to smooth her dirt-smeared, singed gown. Placing a gentle hand on Sirena’s shoulder, she said softly, “Your husband should be with you at this time.”

  Tears gathered in Sirena’s eyes. “It cannot be.” The housekeeper nodded dejectedly and muttered obscenities about stupid men.

  “I think I’ll rest a while. Please don’t go on deck till Willem calls and says we’ve sailed clear of the noxious air.”

  “Very well, Mevrouw, I’ll see if there isn’t something I can do about tidying myself. Rest well.”

  Weary to the bone, Jan slumped over the wheel, his eyes burning with the thick sulphurous vapor. His chest was paining him unbearably and by the minute he was finding it more difficult to take a deep breath. When was Willem going to relieve him? Soon, he prayed, otherwise they would be tossing his lifeless body over the rail. He forced his eyes open and tried to stand erect, but the effort was too great and he found himself slipping … slipping into merciful oblivion. The wheel swung a full half circle and remained still as his heavy body slumped over, pinning it firmly to its base.

  Below decks, Sirena slept while Frau Holtz, her tidying completed, lay back down to rest. Willem and the rest of the small crew stirred with the sudden lurching of the ship, thought little of it, and continued with what they were doing.

  The frigate drifted for hours, miles off her course, leaving the cluster of evacuating ships behind. To the west of her stern a sleek galleon with an escort of two rode the churning, boiling waters. The frigate and her crew slept peacefully as the still thick yellow vapor began to dissipate.

  Chaezar Alvarez held the glass to his eye, a satanic look on his face. He had known if he waited long enough he would find the frigate. At times it paid to be patient. From the looks of things there was no one aboard the small frigate, no one at her wheel, which was why she was drifting so aimlessly. With luck he could come up behind her and throw a grappling hook aboard and lash his bow to her stern.

  Now that his personal victory was almost within his grasp, he could allow himself the luxury of relaxing. Regan was ruined! Port Batavia burned to ashes. Only the thick wall surrounding the city remained. The nutmeg trees were destroyed with no promise of more in the near future. He, and he alone, would command the entire nutmeg trade. He felt as if he, and he alone, had commanded The Sisters to erupt to further his plan. With an evil smile, he cast his eye at the frigate’s stern to see if anything moved on the decks. Soon, within minutes, the Sea Siren would be his. His and his alone! He’d take her to the kingdom he prepared in Africa. He’d reign as supreme ruler with the beautiful Sea Siren as his queen.

  He had known for months the true identity of the Sea Siren. Dick Blackheart, who had captained the attack upon the Córdez family, had come to him with the sorry tale of how the spirited Spanish girl had outwitted him and sent him and his men adrift in a jolly. It all fit in with the unlikely story Sirena and that brat she called her brother told of a storm at sea and her miraculous rescue by fishermen. At that point he had accepted her story just as everyone else on Java had. To do otherwise would have dangerously implicated him in the crime of piracy and murder aboard the Córdez’s frigate.

  Even after the Sea Siren launched her initial attack, he had no reason to suspect Sirena’s duplicity. It could have been coincidental. But when he had Regan’s figurehead of the Sea Siren stolen from the artisan who carved it, in order to smite Regan, he had naturally had a look at the carving: the likeness was unmistakable. That fool van der Rhys, who had aptly named the piratess Sea Siren, so close in sound and spelling to her actual name Sirena, appeared not to notice the resemblance between the figurehead and his wife. But Chaezar, with his sharp, appreciative eye for beauty, was certain of Sirena’s dual identity.

  Seeing Sirena raging against Gretchen, her eyes filled with fire, had held further proof. So many times he had been tempted to reveal his knowledge to her. How often he had thought her to be on the brink of telling him herself. The Sea Siren had made his position as head of the Spanish shipping trade most precarious. She had brought ruin on the Spanish fleet, had cost him a small fortune in personal business losses. Yet he had done nothing. He had played along with Regan and the others in their plans to capture her, knowing that they wouldn’t.

  Chaezar’s sense of drama had been tittilated. He intended to play the game out to the end. His fortunes did not rest with the Spanish trading fleet, they rested elsewhere with casks of fertile nutmegs and a kingdom on the African coast.

  Chaezar’s eyes narrowed to a menacing glare when he thought of his fertile nutmegs. By the time he had discovered the twenty-four casks were missing he had other matters on his mind. Regan had been closing in on Gretchen and himself, discovering bit by bit that they were ultimately responsible for the death of his wife, the loss of his son, and the long, hard years he had spent in a Spanish prison. Chaezar had been unable to pursue the loss of his nutmegs when he had been so concerned about keeping one step ahead of Regan to save his life.

  The night he had met Sirena in the garden he had come to take her away with him, to offer her the life of a queen, to save her from Regan! But the foolish woman hadn’t even given him the chance to speak—sharp points of hatred had shot from her eyes. She had still been angry about the afternoon he had drugged her and taken her to his bed to sample her passionate charms. Then she had become defensive of Regan, telling Chaezar that her husband had sailed to the inner islands. Chaezar had expected to hear that Regan had gone again in pursuit of his son, but not quite so soon.

  Chaezar had been frightened, he had grabbed for her. His intent was to force her to go with him. In her struggle, Sirena’s sleeve had ripped, baring her arm to the moonlight. There before him had been the ultimate proof that his deductions concerning her dual identity were correct. He had seen the wound on her arm, the one Blackheart had told him about!

  Sirena Córdez van der Rhys was the indomitable Sea Siren! Chaezar licked his lips, he was aware of a stirring in his loins. He wondered what it would be like to be dominated by the infamous piratess. He would have her wear the scanty costume she wore aboard her ship, she would be a magnifcent fantasy come to life as she wielded the whip!

  The first grappling hook was thrown aboard the spectral, black frigate, and moments later it was lashed to the galleon and Chaezar’s men were boarding her decks. When the last of his men climbed aboard, Chaezar followed. It was pointless to take unnecessary risks, he reasoned, one could never be too careful around the Sea Siren. Right this very minute, she could be watching for her chance to kill him. She could be hiding in some dark cranny of the ship waiting for him to show himself. When he was satisfied that his men had the situation in hand, he ordered the woman brought on deck.

  Sirena looked blearily at the coarse man who grabbed her arm, yanking her from a sound sleep in her hard bunk. “My captain wants you on deck, now!” For a brief moment Sirena panicked, thinking herself back in time with Blackheart’s scurvy crew.

  “Take your filthy hands off me. Who are you? How did you get aboard this ship? Loose me, I say!” she cried shrilly. Her answer was to be dragged, half stumbling and half falling, up the ladder to stand on deck. “Chaezar! What are you doing here? What is this?”

  “Would you like an embroidered lie or the plain, simple truth?” he asked gallantly as he made a low, swooping bow in her direction.

  “Plain truth will serve for now,” Sirena said bluntly.

  “I plan to kill your crew and take you with me to my kingdom.”

  “And if I choose not to go, what then?”

  “There is no choice. You will come with me, it’s as simple as that.”

  “Never!” Sirena cried passionately. “I wouldn’t cross the deck with you, let alone stand next to you.”

  “Then I shall force you to watch as your men are drawn and quartered, one after the other. When your decks are rivers of blood, you’ll reconsider,” he said cruelly.

  Sirena blanched at the Spaniard’s words. From the look in his eye he clearly meant what he said. Merciful God, help me, she prayed.

  “Why must you kill my crew? What have they done to you?”

  “It’s not a question of them doing anything. I want no tales carried back to the islands. You might say I’m making my escape. Men with tongues will talk. I can’t afford that in my position.”

  “You would kill as cold-bloodedly as that? What kind of evil man are you?”

  “Am I so different from you, Sea Siren? You killed and reaped rewards for what you did. I’m merely doing the same.”

  “I never killed for the sake of killing,” Sirena spat viciously. “Your thinking is warped, Chaezar. It is you who deserve to die, not these old harmless men. I’ll strike a bargain with you. Let them go and I will go willingly with you. My word as the Sea Siren.”

  Chaezar groped for words. It would be better to have her come with him willingly than to have to use force. “Your word that there will be no tricks?”

  “My word.”

  “Very well, climb aboard my galleon. Bring nothing but yourself. Understood?” Sirena nodded, and was gracefully swinging herself aboard the galleon as Frau Holtz emerged from the stairs with a blunderbuss in her shaking hands and a frightened look on her face. In the blink of an eye the weapon was dashed against the tackle box and the woman stood, tears streaming down her ruddy cheeks, the point of the cutlass at her throat.

  “Hold!” Sirena shouted. “She’s my companion, leave her to come with me. I’m not asking you, Chaezar, I’m telling you.”

  “Very well … I’ve no stomach for killing old women. You may have your companion. Just remember that is one more favor for which you have me to thank. Order your men to remain silent of these doings or you will find this rapier coming out your back! Comprende?”

  “Willem, you heard Señor Alvarez. You will do nothing to jeopardize his sailing. He has guaranteed me safe sailing, as well as Frau Holtz. You will do me one small favor perhaps.” Willem nodded carefully, his eyes peering deeply into those of the woman across from him on the other ship. “See to it that the Sea Siren is repaired and her proper name restored to the bow. Be sure that my little brother receives her in good condition. Will you do that for me?”

  “Aye, Capitana, I’ll see that the boy gets the frigate.” He raised his hand to his forehead and gave her a jaunty salute as he watched the heavy ropes being cut, separating the galleon from the Sea Siren.

  Sirena turned to Frau Holtz, tears in her eyes. She clenched her teeth so as not to show any emotion before Chaezar.

  Unable to contain herself, Frau Holtz screeched, “Heathen swine, dirty cutthroat pigs! Bastard at birth and bastard till the day of your death. The Lord should have you choke on your heathen tongue and swallow it.”

  “If you don’t close your mouth, dear lady, it shall be you who chokes on your tongue.”

  Frau Holtz, her face as crimson as a passion fruit, closed her mouth into tight, grim lines. “May the devil carve your heart from your skinny body and hang it on his fork!” she muttered beneath her breath.

  “Take the ladies below to their quarters and lock them in,” Chaezar ordered brusquely. “It’s time to change course and head for my new kingdom!”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Regan’s heart ached when he looked at the morose boy at his side. A hard, bitter look crossed his face and he smarted at the idea that a child so young should be experiencing such feelings. Words were of little comfort, he had discovered. Caleb had one thought and one thought only, and that was to find Sirena and bring her home.

  “She goes too slow, Father. At this rate of speed we’ll never find Sirena! There must be something you can do. Don’t you know any shortcuts to save time? Sirena always said if one looked hard enough one could solve any problem. And we have a problem. What if we never find her?” he cried brokenly.

  “I have no control over the winds, son,” Regan replied patiently. “You must trust me.”

  “If Sirena doesn’t want to be found then she won’t. Not you, not the Spaniard, not even I will be able to find her,” Caleb said dejectedly.

  “I told you I’ll sail these waterways till I find her, what more can I do?”

  “Sirena is like a wounded animal now, she hurts inside, not just for herself but for the baby,” Caleb said in a suddenly adult voice. “What if she’s taken to land? She doesn’t care anymore, that’s why I’m so worried about her. She’s given up, nothing matters to her. I saw the look in her eyes and I tell you, Father, she’s not alive anymore, just a shell.”