Vampirates 3: Blood Captain Read Online Free

both thinking. This might be their final journey. If Sanctuary and the mysterious Mosh Zu Kamal couldn’t heal Lorcan, there was no further hope for either of them.

3
    BROTHERS
    The whole tavern fell silent as Barbarro Wrathe — flanked by his two companions — appeared at the top of the steps leading down into the main part of the bar. The woman and boy lingered on the top step as Barbarro continued his journey alone. In his hand was a cane, its head a bulbous skull with a jeweled snake emerging from one eye socket and spiraling down the length of the stick. The cane beat out Barbarro’s steady progress toward his brother.
    As he reached the main floor, revelers on all sides moved swiftly away — whether out of fear or respect, Connor could not be sure. Barbarro’s cane echoed against the floor. There were low murmurs. Connor watched and listened intently. He knew that there was an old grievance between the two brothers. Had Barbarro come back to settle a score? His face gave nothing away.
    The person who seemed the least surprised — and the least perturbed — by Barbarro’s arrival, was Molucco himself. But of course, Molucco had known that it was Barbarro’s ship making its way to Ma Kettle’s. He had been shaken when he’d first seen it from the deck of The Diablo, but in the intervening time, he had composed himself. Now, he calmly took a last draught of his drink, then rose up and stepped down from the booth where he and Ma Kettle were ensconced.
    “Barbarro!” he boomed at full volume. “What a wonderful surprise!”
    Barbarro did not respond but stood, waiting for Molucco, in the center of the room. It made Connor think of two jungle cats taking measure of one another — a real power play.
    As the two brothers at last came face to face, Connor was struck by the strong resemblance between the pair. They were not quite the mirror image of one another, but you could certainly see they were cut from the same, flamboyant cloth.
    Barbarro was just a little broader and taller than Molucco. Dressed in a bottle-green frock coat with gold braiding and tall boots, he cut a similarly dashing figure. His hands, however, were devoid of jewels — save for a gold wedding band. Barbarro wore his hair long like Molucco’s but it was still a glossy black, with a thick streak of silver gray adding both glamour and gravitas. He had a neatly cropped beard and mustache. But his twinkling eyes were the perfect reflection of his brother’s. Just when you thought you knew which color they were, it shifted. First green, then blue. Purple, brown, then black. They were as changeable as the surface of the ocean.
    “It’s been a long time,” Molucco said. All eyes in the tavern were upon him as he spoke. Then they moved hungrily to Barbarro to gauge the response.
    “Too long, Molucco,” said Barbarro, his voice as sonorous as his brother’s. “Since last we met, I have lost one brother. I do not intend to lose another.”
    Now he extended his arms and Molucco stepped forward to embrace him. There was a chorus of sighs around the room as the men hugged. It appeared that the long-running feud was over. At least, thought Connor, something good had come from the terrible murder of Porfirio Wrathe.
    As the two Captains Wrathe at last disentangled themselves, Connor saw Scrimshaw emerge from Molucco’s hair and extend himself expectantly toward Barbarro. Connor had noticed how Scrimshaw often seemed to scrutinize people, as if on Captain Wrathe’s behalf, but this was something different. Suddenly, he noticed a reciprocal movement amid Barbarro’s dark locks, and a second snake pushed its way through and extended itself toward Scrimshaw.
    Barbarro glanced up with a smile. “It seems Skirmish is pleased to see his own brother.”
    “Yes.” Molucco nodded gravely. “I venture he’s missed him terribly these last few years.” The snakes hissed conspiratorially together for a moment, then settled around their masters’