The Hidden Heart

This is a beta copy posted for comments and reviews. Note the novel is set around actual historical events that happened during one of the many wars between England and France.

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Prologue

It all began over a woman, she was neither the richest nor the most beautiful of the young noblewoman at court that year but there was an unearthly quality to her that combined with her wild Scottish beauty made her seem divine, and then there was her voice. It was a voice that could only come from God, for its range and clarity had never been heard before. Despite her lack of wealth and small dowry she became a much sought-after prize, fought over by the knights like dogs over a bone, of all the contestants the two most persistent, most relentless in their pursuit were half-brothers. Duke Drake and his illegitimate half brother George Russell, battled to the point of death over the girl, and finally, in desperation, the King not wishing to lose either two good knights or distant cousins, illegitimate though they may be, gave the woman to Drake. It didn’t matter the girl loved neither man and didn’t wish to wed, or that she was afraid of Drake’s huge hulking black form. She became his unwilling bride and was spared his unwanted advances for a little while by a paltry little war, that gained no great victories and left Lord Drake less than half a man, given to drunken rages and madness. While he was gone she gave birth to a son, Henry, and tried to convince herself that things would be better.

Then one drunken night Russell in a fit of self-pitying rage took his sister-in-law by force, then fled back to his own estates. But the damage had been done, the woman Aurora was with child. When she could no longer hide her condition from her drunken, half-mad husband he beat her. Aurora was a Scot and not easily broken, she endured and demanded to be freed from her loveless farce of a marriage, but Drake would have none of it, she was his for now and forever.

Then one night when he was far gone in drink and near the end of her time, Aurora in desperation attempted to flee what had become a nightmarish prison. Caught her husband heaved her down the stairs of the great hall bringing about her death and the untimely birth of her twin girls. Once sober, Drake ordered his retainers to hide the circumstances of his wife’s demise and all but the fact a single daughter was born. He had a son and an heir; the infant girls meant nothing to him, except as a tool against his relatives.

Russell seethed in uncontrollable rage feeling thrice cheated, of lands that could have been his if his mother had been a wife and not a mistress. A woman he had wanted and an heir of his own that neither his sickly wife nor his countless mistresses could give him. His hate grew and grew towards his brother and the boy, Henry, till it was a monster within him, and no amount of wealth, lands, or womanizing would satisfy.

As Drake’s madness deepened he came to hate the boy Henry believing him to also be his brother’s. Then shortly after the boy’s fifth birthday plague swept the land born on icy winter winds, it was merciless, killing the young and old, rich and poor alike. The killing winds touched Drake’s keep briefly claiming the life of Henry the unwanted yet needed son. Bereft of an heir and a shield to his brothers advances Drake’s wine and opium-fogged brain searched for a solution and found it in the eldest of the twins, the girl Aubrey. At four she and her sister Andrea were the image of their mother and as full of fire. But while everyone in the keep and town coward from Drake, the tiny child defied him as no one had ever defied him before, so in his insanity, she became the lost son and heir as well as an outlet for his anger.

Fearing for her twin’s life, Andrea, Drake’s castellan, and the Captain of his guards conspired to send her first to a convent, then to her Scottish family for safety. Alone with Drake, Aubrey suffered unspeakably, but she survived her ordeals and became stronger. Then one night shortly after her sixth birthday Russell and his men came to Drake Castle for a visit. That night, while everyone cowered behind locked doors Russell and his barbaric rabble, Russell and his men found and tortured Aubrey for sport. Barely surviving the attack, broken in body and mind she healed and unable to endure anymore ran away to sea, knowing nothing could be done to her that hadn’t already been done.

As the years passed Aubrey gathered both knowledge and gold, hoarding them both like a dragon. Aubrey became in time a cabin boy, a sail boy, a pickpocket, a tumbler to a royal court, a thief, and a navigator. Despite her best efforts to hide, her flame gold hair and amethyst eyes always betrayed her. Twice Drake’s men brought her back to England to suffer at Drake and Russell’s brutish hands. But always she’d escape back to her life at sea and finally, at fourteen she made a bargain with Drake, a bargain made in hell itself, she would provide him with gold, wine, and opium and in return for leaving her sister and the inhabitants of Drake’s land alone.

Aubrey’s need for gold to satisfy Drake, for a semblance of security and happiness, drove her to acts of daring that surprised even her, over time her daring proved fruitful and she amassed a King’s treasure. But always she lived in fear, haunted by terrors and a burning need for revenge and justice for herself and her mother, revenge no matter what the cost.

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Chapter one

The Mediterranean, 1346

The strong, cool night wind blew off the sea and through the huge open casements of the ancient stone fort. It sent the brightly burning torches sputtering, casting strange flickering shadows about the large white-washed room. But the room’s sole occupant didn’t seem to notice either the shifting light or the sea-scented breeze.

Aubrey had eyes for only the practice dummy before her, she pivoted on thickly calloused bare feet to deliver a viscous upward slice sending the dummy’s straw arm flying up and off. It flew several feet away before landing hard on the stone floor with a crackle. Sweat dripped from her forehead into her amethyst eyes, making her blot them repeatedly on the frayed quarter sleeve of her linen shirt, it plastered the torn half shirt to her back and breasts and made her flowing black pants fit like a second skin.

Aubrey danced sideways to deliver a powerful kick with her right foot to the dummy’s stomach, the dummy cracked loudly and began to double over, quickly she finished it off with a powerful uppercut that sent the dummy’s turnip head flying to smack against the far wall. Without stopping for a rest she pivoted to begin her attack on a second dummy, Aubrey was so engrossed in her practice that she didn’t hear the two men come into the hall behind her, not notice them as they watched her with admiration and respect, to an outside observer the men were as odd, as noteworthy in appearance as Aubrey. One was tall, over six feet with hair so blond it was almost white, and cold blue-grey eyes that changed like a winter sky, the other was barely five feet six with deep brown hair and eyes, and a stocky hard muscled body of a wrestler.

“Well it looks like a woman Rolph, but women are soft weak creatures, and look at those muscles.” Aubrey whirled lightning fast throwing the short heavy blade with a strong overhand move; the blade cleared the short man’s head by scant few inches to bury with a dull twang in a heavy wooden support beam a few feet beyond.

“You know better than to make her mad when she is practicing David.” The tall blonde man sidled sideways then dropped to sit on a long trestle table that ran along the side of the large room, his lanky legs sweeping over the sandy floor. “But I think your wrong David, muscles and all it’s a woman all right, men don’t usually have breasts. There small but she has some.”

Aubrey squared her shoulders, hands on her hips giving both men a look so black and scathing it would melt iron.

“Rolph, you sorry son of a…” Aubrey gave him another scowl. “I ought to.” Her gaze shifted to the shorter man, a slim red eyebrow arching in annoyance. “And one more crack from you David and I’ll have you scraping barnacles for a week.”

“Henry, you know we were only jesting.” David protested looking pained.

Aubrey, known to the world as Henry Drake, studied her sergeant’s face, seeing the mischief dancing in his dark eyes; she watched his full lips turn from a smile to a frown. Aubrey was finally forced to smile, unable to stay angry with her friend. David had a child-like endearing quality at times that never let her stay mad at him for long, Aubrey rolled her eyes watching him smile in return.

“Aye, perhaps you are right but I have earned these muscles.” Aubrey strode past him to wrap her hands around the hilt of the deeply embedded sword, and using her left leg for a brace kicked hard against the wall. The blade finally slid free with a dull twang and she stepped backwards recovering her balance.

“What do you fools want? We sail in the morning you two can torment me then.” She turned to stride to the table, annoyed to have been disturbed in her practice. And even more, annoyed with herself for letting them surprise her. In a life such as hers, it was deadly to let anyone take you by surprise. She lifted a well-oiled leather scabbard from the table to slide the blade home with a dull clang.

“The party, the men await you on the beach.” Rolph cocked his head towards the open windows, for the first time she heard the music, and the loud drunken singing floating in on the night winds, rough voices raised together, loud even over the pounding of the surf.

“By the sound, they started long ago.” Aubrey turned to lean back upon the table, suddenly weary in every muscle and bone, she’d been practicing since noon, several hours ago, and her body was screaming in protest.

Rolph leaned forward to massage her neck with strong long-fingered hands, darkened by sea and sun. Aubrey groaned in delight, leaning back into his hands as he eased the throbbing in her neck, Rolph always took care of her, had always taken care of her, he was a true friend and the brother she’d never had.

“You push yourself too hard, you work too hard.” He said in a soft rumble, continuing to rub her neck. Aubrey shook her head and reluctantly pulled from his hands.

“I work to be strong; I work to be the best.” Aubrey turned to look up into his sad wise blue- grey eyes, that like her’s had seen too much, too soon. Eyes that had seen such cruelty and evil that all their innocence, all their fantasies had been stolen in their youths.

“I work to protect and provide for us all, go enjoy yourselves, I need a good long bath and time to think.” Aubrey stepped away from the table rolling her shoulders, attempting to ease the tight knot.

“You haven’t changed your mind? We still sail for France on the morrow?” David demanded arms folded across his chest.

“Yes, we still sail for France; I’ve but to think of how to deal with the Prince, the King and my father.” Aubrey rotated her shoulders feeling the muscles clench. “How to command men on land instead of the sea? How to place a company of archers in battle and how to hide my true sex for not days or weeks at a stretch but perhaps several months or a year.” She reached up to rub her neck and saw David give her a lopsided grin.

“Oh well if it is nothing important, you should be done in no time, I’ll tell the men you’ll be coming soon then.” David’s smile turned in to a mischievous grin, then he spun to walk from the stone practice room laughing as he went.

“I often wonder if our friend and pilot is a fool or merely an idiot,” Rolph mumbled aloud watching David walk away.

Aubrey gave Rolph a piercing look, and then shrugged. “He makes me laugh, is a good pilot, and is a true friend, nothing else matters, he could be mad as a March hare, he’d still watch my back.”

“We don’t have to go to England; you don’t have to do this. We could find another way.” Rolph said his voice changing, his eyes softer and full of concern.

Aubrey shook her head, walking to one of the wide casements she looked out and down, a huge bonfire blazed in the blackness, shadowy figures moving about it in a wild stumbling dance. In the distance the full moon, in seeming competition with the fire, hung low and bright, its white light shimmering off the black, flat sea and lighting the rocky, narrow path that lead from the ancient fort to the beach.

“No, I must go back; lives are at stake, innocent lives.” Aubrey turned from the mesmerizing, peaceful scene. “And I must put this behind me, I must face my fears, face him or always be afraid and on the run. I can’t live forever in fear of my father and uncle. I mean to have justice, I will make them both pay for what they did to my mother, your mother, what they did to me.”

“Revenge can be deadly,” Rolph said.

Aubrey looked away to the dark end of the hall, then slowly back at Rolph. “He killed both your parents, can you deny your desire for revenge; deny that it burns as bright as mine?”

“You needn’t remind me of things I can’t forget,” Rolph replied sharply jumping off the table.

“And you needn’t rub salt in half-healed wounds. Both of them will pay for their crimes, your blood and mine will be satisfied.” Aubrey sighed heavily. “Besides it is not just me I think of, what of Andrea? She deserves to live in peace too.”

“He could kill you.” Rolph crossed to her in a flash to grab her by the shoulders and force her to look up at him, God how he wanted to shake some sense into her. “He’ll beat you again or worse. If he does I’ll kill him, if he touches you again, so help me I’ll kill the bastard and the hell with the consequences.”

Aubrey shrugged free of his grip and shook her head her short red hair bouncing off her shoulders. “You shall do nothing of the sort. He’s still a duke, and still has friends of importance. If we simply murder him it would bring untold woes upon ourselves and many innocent people. We shall destroy him, but my way, slowly, carefully, and in the end when everything is gone that he holds of value, that brings him joy or pride I shall kill him.” Aubrey stated her voice dripping ice.

“No matter what the price to you?” Rolph snapped in anger, he couldn’t stand the thought of Aubrey being hurt again.

“No matter what the price, I’m strong; there is nothing he can do to me that hasn’t already happened.” Aubrey slipped past him giving him her back and ending the painful conversation. She didn’t want to discuss it anymore, didn’t want to be reminded of the man who had beaten and tortured her. Be reminded of other horrors in an echoingly dark castle that had sent her running for her life at the tender age of six, and changed her forever, be reminded of horror so gruesome that it had stolen her childhood and her innocence at the same time.

“I’m going to take a bath,” Aubrey said, Rolph stepped up to her grabbing her arm hard, and spun her about. She jerked free her amethyst eyes flashing in anger, she hated being manhandled and Rolph knew it.

“This discussion isn’t over.” Rolph snapped in anger, he had to make her hear him, really hear him.

“Yes it is, I’m going back to England with or without you.” Aubrey turned from him and took a deep breath pushing down her anger. She looked back over her shoulder, the anger, the pain they both shared was written all over his face. “I’d prefer you come, but I’ll not force you. It’s my fate, my life, and my decisions, good or bad.” Then she turned, head high and strode from the practice hall.

“Damn it, come back this isn’t finished yet.” But only the wind and distant surf answered him. Cursing Rolph stormed after her, as he entered the darkened hall he crashed into something short and hard and rocked back on his heels. He looked down in the shadowy darkness to see David.

“Shouting at her won’t help; you know she is as headstrong as a mule. But she is also right.” David said looking up at Rolph in the darkness.

Rolph mumbled another curse and pushed David away roughly. He moved to step past him, only to have the short stocky man block his way.

“Move David.” Rolph snarled in exasperation.

“Why, what do you mean to do? Shout at her, hit her? You’d only become what she hates most in a man.” David stepped back arms folded before his burly chest. “She’s right; if you go off like some crazed berserker and kill the Duke we will all suffer. She can take care of herself.”

“The man is a monster and mad. I’ve seen him cause pain, kill for the pleasure of it, the sport of it.” Rolph stated through clenched teeth.

“She has no choice, but she’s not a fool and she’s as tough as they come,” David replied. Rolph stepped back forcing himself to be calm, to let the coolness of the stone corridor fill him and cool his temper.

“How long did you listen?”

“Long enough, your main problem is you love her,” David said watching Rolph stiffen as if struck, he’d not thought anyone knew of his feelings for his friend and Captain. “Love makes us all fools Rolph.”

“And you don’t love her, don’t want to protect her?”

David shrugged in resignation. “I’ve loved that red-headed little Amazon since the day she saved my life. But she’s as far above me as the moon and just as out of reach, so I content myself with being her friend.”

“You think we should just let her do this?”

“She’s not ours to command, we can’t even save her from her fate. All we can do is stand by her, give her a supporting arm when she’ll take it, watch her back and let her make her own choices, good or bad.” David said his eyes on Rolph’s shadowy face.

Rolph finally nodded and leaned back against the cold stone wall, as his temper cooled. “You are wiser than you let on.”

“Wiser?” David shook his head. “Passing sensible perhaps, some street sense and a keen sense of self-preservation is all. When your father is a thief and your mother a whore you learn what life is all about very quickly, learn what’s important fast.”

Rolph gave his short friend a skeptical look, David was known better for his wisecracks than his wisdom. “And what is important?” Rolph asked.

“Friends, good friends are what is most important, for in the end livestock dies or runs away, possessions will be stolen or lost and gold spent. But friends, true friends never let you down, that is worth more than gold. And that’s what she needs Rolph friends, not unwanted advice or angry words. She has to do this; people she cares for will die or be hurt if she doesn’t. We stop her she hates us and herself for the rest of her life.” Rolph had to admit David was right.

“Come I’ll stand you an ale, I think you can use one?” David said grinning at his tall friend.

Rolph his anger fleeing grinned back and scrubbed his face, chasing away the last of his anger. “Aye, you are right on all accounts.” He turned to place his arm around David’s shoulders letting the shorter man guide him down the dark corridor. “Remind me to never call you a fool again.”

David laughed. “I will, now let’s go find that ale.”

Aubrey slammed the heavy wood and copper-plated door of her apartments, enjoying the deafening sound it made. It seemed to help ease her inner tension. She turned shooting the heavy iron bolt into place, locked in her private chambers, protected by three inches of wood and copper she could let her guard down. In her chambers, she could be herself, not the tough unfeeling leader of a fleet of pirate ships, or the street-wise thief, or the castrati singer to the Doge in Venice, or the role she hated the most Henry Drake, the sickly son of the great and powerful Duke Drake.

Aubrey shivered at the thought of him, the man the entire world thought was her father and was not. She shook her head to clear it; no she’d not sully her home, her haven with any more thoughts of that black monster. Aubrey breathed out pushing away from the door, letting her gaze roam about the first and the largest of her three rooms. The anteroom served as a work room, store room and office. Along the far left wall were stacked chest, upon chest full of gold coins and jewels, half her life was there. Richly colored, thick Persian rugs covered the ancient cracked terra cotta tiles and lay in careless piles over the chests of gold. The rugs were fortunes themselves.

Three tables shaped an L around the other side of the room, the first two covered with mounds of charts, maps and invoices from the ships she’d captured. The last table groaned under the weight of books in seven languages, the books were her true treasures, worth to her more than the gold. Aubrey dug her toes into the thick carpet enjoying the feel of the rich silk against her bare feet, after years spent barefoot on rough wooden decks, walking on silk was a little bit of paradise.

Aubrey loosened her waist ties, peeling off the sweat-soaked pants; let them drop to the floor. She stalked through her anteroom with the air of a predatory animal, to pause in the door of her bed chamber. The eunuch, Jasper, that served as her maid, housekeeper, and cook had done his usual thorough job of cleaning the rooms, nothing was out of place, the bed was smooth with sun-bleached sheets, her clothes washed and folded and tucked neatly away in a rosewood cupboard.

She loved this place; she sat on the wide bed fighting her fatigue. A strong night wind blew through the door leading to the bathing room, bringing with it the scent of sea, smoke, and the mingled scent of a thousand wildflowers. Aubrey inhaled deeply letting the sounds and scents surround her, envelope her like a comforting blanket. She could hear the gentle gurgle of water in the bathing pool, and brush of wind stirred branches against the thick walls of the fort.

It had been one of the luckiest days of her life when she had found this ancient roman fort and villa. Nestled into a black volcanic mountain, the fort was protected from three sides and gave breathtaking views of jungle and sea from all four sides; even the island itself was protected, being accessible from only one route, a narrow passage between a protecting barrier reef that protected the island from storms and enemies while also forming a huge safe harbor. The fort was invisible from the sea, being built from the same black rock as the volcano it nestled against.

It had been a stroke of good fortune when her storm-damaged boat had drifted to the island, an island found on no map or chart. After three years of restoration by the best craftsmen in Venice and a considerable amount of gold, a once crumbling Roman fort was a palace worthy of a King and home to herself and fifty of her most trusted and hand-picked men. It was also her paradise, her haven, her home, a refuge when the world got too much for her. She loved this place to the core of her being. Stifling a yawn she stripped off the sweat-soaked shirt and silk chemise beneath, then pulled off the breechclout to stand naked in the middle of the large room. A fresco of three scantily dressed young women and a half-man, half goat-like creature danced across the wall before her. She squinted at it in the flickering torch light, as large key portions of the fresco had been destroyed by time, she’d never be able to figure out exactly what all four of them were doing, but she’d enough to guess the nature of it.

Aubrey turned to scoop clean drying clothes and a shirt from the silk bedspread and strode into the bathing room beyond. Silver moonlight slanted through the wide arched windows to glaze the dark tiles of the floor and walls, and turn the falling water in the scalloped-shaped bathing pool to mercury. This room was why she’d chosen this suite of rooms. The rooms weren’t the largest in the fort but the bathing room and attached guard robe made up for anything it lacked in size. Centered in the middle of the large bathing room was a scalloped-shaped bathing pool large enough to hold a good twenty people, at the end of the pool a huge fish-shaped marble fountain spouted a never-ending stream of volcanic-heated hot water into the pool. The water ran over ever fresh running out of a grate in the side of the pool, which in turn flushed the guard robe in the corner clean, before running down a drain to dump into the sea.

Dropping the drying clothes and shirt she stepped into the pool gasping as the hot spring water swirled about her. Holding her breath Aubrey ducked under, swimming quickly to the other side, to rise from the water like some sea nymph, she flipped her hair back from her face to scoop a bar of soap from the edge of the bath. Aubrey pressed it to her face inhaling the heady herbal scent, the soap was fine and smooth against her skin, not the harsh lye soap that was used in England, that’s when soap was used at all. She’d bought a case of it from an apothecary in Constantinople who also provided her with pain medication and dyes to dull her bright red gold hair. Closing her eyes she let the warm water work into her tired muscle, she bent applying the soap to her grimy body with gusto.

As she scrubbed Aubrey hummed a new song she’d heard when last in Venice. It was a ballad of unrequited love, of a girl who loved a man she couldn’t have and died proving her love for him. The ballad was as sad as it was beautiful, she paused in her scrubbing thinking of the note it began on.

Aubrey let out a single loud note, dropping it till the pitch was perfect. Aye, that was the note, then she began to sing, in a voice so clear, full, and pure that the angels in heaven wept in delight and jealousy. A friend had once told her that for everything God had taken from her, he had made up for in another way. Her voice and her perfect memory were what God had given her for surviving her father, her uncle, and her black childhood. Her voice was her one vanity and her one salvation.

Aubrey poured everything into the song as if she was the girl in it. Her voice rose above the gentle bubble of the bathing fountain, the wind whistling in the tile-lined chamber and the stead surf below. Outside Rolph heard the sound, pure high and sweet as it was carried on the night wind to mix with the sound of the pounding surf. Rolph inhaled deeply letting the sea and heavy night scents intoxicate him, as he let the sound of her voice carry him away. Groaning he laid his head on the stone parapet before him, closing his eyes. David was right; he loved and was in love with Aubrey, he could do nothing to help her, to protect her from her fate. What was to become of them all if she died? Aubrey held them all together, drove them all to do things that alone they’d never try. She was more than their Captain, leader, and friend, so much more. Without her, they’d all be alone or dead. He straightened and shook his head mumbling a curse, he couldn’t think this way. She’d be all right, he’d see to it, so help him he’d kill anyone who hurt her again, even if it cost him his own life. So much to think about, so much to decide, he needed a drink. Now, where had David and the ale gotten to?

Aubrey finished the song and leaned back in the giant pool, floating on her back to stare up at the ornately tiled ceiling of the chamber. She understood the girl in the song, she would never find love, could never find love, to let a man love her she’d have to let someone know she was a woman and that would be deadly. Even her crew, all trusted men didn’t know her true sex; they thought she was castrati, a eunuch, escaped from some Saracen lord’s harem. They followed their odd captain because she’d saved each of their lives from death or prison and made them each wealthy. What did they care if their captain was a eunuch as long as they were rich?

Then there was the problem of what to do with a man, if she could trust him with her life and her secrets he’d not want anything to do with her, not after she told him what her father and uncle had done to her. Even then she wasn’t sure she could ever be intimate with a man, the idea both frightened and intrigued her at the same time. She was twenty-three and had never once been kissed or caressed in tenderness, if things continued as they were she’d die old and alone. With an oath she smacked her fists on top of the water sending up a large splash, she had no time for foolish maidenly thoughts, she had other things to think about. Deadly things, dangerous things, she would just have to be content to be alone for what was left of her life.