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  “Isaac, please!” Aaron could barely breathe thanks to the choke-hold Stern had on his throat. This had to be a nightmare.

  Without warning, Ike was yanked off him. Aaron looked up to see his savior was McSwain.

  “What the blazes goes on here?!” Angus’s face twisted with rage, a rage that was partially due to suffering the ill-effects of a hangover.

  Aaron could see by the confusion in Ike’s eyes that he had no idea what had transpired. Aaron sat up. “It ain’t like what ye saw, McSwain. He-He was asleep--.”

  Angus glanced from Aaron to Ike. “Din’t look much like ye were sleepin’, boy. Ye know Aaron’s mine, don’t ye?”

  Ike was fully aware now and his eyes sparked as he met McSwain’s gaze. “He won’t be fer long now. I mean to kill you an’ return Aaron to his rightful place as captain of the Maid.”

  “Oh ye do, eh?” McSwain sneered. “An’ jus’ how will ye do that?”

  “Like this!” Ike snarled and pulled the knife from McSwain’s belt.

  Ike swung the knife hard at McSwain’s chest but the mutineer caught his arm and spun him away. Aaron, not believing his own actions, struggled upright and dove between them. “No, Ike, don’t!”

  For a moment, Ike continued to glare at McSwain. But then he turned startled eyes on Aaron. “What d’ ye mean? Aaron, this is our chance!”

  Aaron shook his head slightly. Even if they could make it out of the cabin past McSwain, there were thirty-some vicious pirates full of drink and lust out there that would be more than happy to avenge their Captain’s death. “No, love, not yet.”

  Ike stared at Aaron blankly then dropped the dagger on the deck. Aaron turned to McSwain, intending to beg for mercy for Ike. Instead, McSwain glowered at him.

  “Not a word, Aaron, or I’ll shoot ‘im where he stands,” Angus’s hand raised to reveal the dull gleam of a pistol. When Aaron acquiesced silently, McSwain snagged the front of Ike’s shirt and propelled him toward the door. He glanced at Aaron then picked the knife up and followed Stern. As he shoved Ike out the door, Angus scowled back at Aaron again. “I’ll be back.”

  As the door closed behind McSwain, Aaron sank to his knees. Burying his face in his hands, he let himself cry. Forgive me, Henry. I tried to save him but I’m just too big a fool.

  Aaron had no idea how long he’d been unconscious when he woke. His whole body ached and he could barely move but he found the strength to do so when he saw Garcia enter the cabin. Garcia, however, was paying him no heed as he tossed a comatose Ike onto the bunk then rushed back out the door. Aaron heard the door lock then the rumble of cannon being put into place. It’s not my concern, Aaron told himself then he went to see if Ike was alive.

  )O(

  Chapter 12:

  August 1718 – Two Days Later

  James Dunbar stood on the quarterdeck and watched his crew manage the Venture with more than a little satisfaction. None of them knew that he had been kidnapped by a pirate crew five years before. Thanks to his father’s influence and his own earnestness and ingenuity, the Admiralty had suppressed any official record of the incident. Most of the men who had been aboard the Venture at the time were either no longer with the Navy or were transferred to other posts. Only then-Captain, now Rear Admiral, Mercer knew that he spent nearly a week in the hands of pirates.

  For Captain Dunbar, the memory of those few days aboard the Saucy Maid was a horror. Not so much because of what had been done to him, because, truly, precious little had been, but for what he suspected had happened to Raven after he escaped. The nightmare of possibilities returned to him on a regular basis and all he could do was wake himself, get a good stiff brandy, and sit watch until dawn. The thought of agony in those azure eyes made for many sleepless nights.

  When he had made the township of Petit Goave from the, fortunately, docked pirate ship, he headed immediately for the Governor’s residence. His intention had been to take a party of the governor’s militia to storm the Maid and forcibly remove Raven from McSwain’s clutches. The Governor had been as helpful as possible until he mentioned what ship he’d been held captive on. At that, he was told to never speak of the incident again or he would be turned back over to Captain McSwain. Shocked that the Governor of the place was so reluctant to deal with the matter, he resigned himself to getting back to the Navy and resuming his career. But always, in the back of his mind, every encounter with a pirate ship, every battle with a privateer, had the potential to reunite him with Raven. As the years went by, he knew the reality was that he’d never see Raven again but his dreams at night kept the foolish hope alive.

  Now, here, a hundred leagues from Port Royal, in charge of the Venture, he saw the black ship with the mermaid flag and it robbed him of breath. He recognized her, of course. She wallowed in the water as if loaded so full she could barely float. For a few seconds, all he could do was stare at her, blinking on occasion, and wonder if his mind was playing tricks on him. It wasn’t possible, of course, that Raven was still aboard that ship, or even still alive.

  Shaking himself, he ordered his men to open fire on the black-flagged ship. The pirate ship responded sluggishly by moving north, as Dunbar wanted them to. He knew the Venture could never pass over the shoals that lay to their starboard but the Maid, in a fit state with little or no cargo aboard, might have. Instead, McSwain—or whoever captained her now—miscalculated his ship’s abilities. She ground painfully to a halt on a reef, the screech of tearing wood causing every man aboard the Venture to cringe. While the reef kept her from sinking, the reality was that the ship was no longer sea-worthy. The gash in her hull had effectively ruined her.

  “Take us a bit closer, Mr. Hastings, but keep us off that reef,” Dunbar ordered, holding his hand out to Lieutenant Chambers, newly arrived from England the day before they departed on this voyage.

  Chambers handed him the speaking horn. “Sir?”

  For a moment, James could think of nothing to say except “Is Raven aboard?” But Raven was the name he had bestowed upon the man. He had never learned the man’s true name. Finally, he raised it to his mouth. “Captain McSwain! Surrender now and we will take you to Port Royal for a merciful death rather than leave you to die in misery on this shoal. Do you understand?”

  Chambers’ eyebrows shot up. “Sir, if I may, that’s highly irregular. We should open fire immediate--.”

  James turned to regard the young officer with a measuring look. “The books tell us that, don’t they? But there is precious treasure aboard that ship. Treasure that we cannot collect if it lies at the bottom of the deep. The Crown needs that treasure, as do we. Or would you like to tell the men that you’ve single-handedly cheated them out of a fat reward?”

  As he said the last sentence, James raised his voice so that nearly all the men on deck could hear him. Many of them turned to look at Chambers as well, their faces revealing their hunger for the pleasures such a reward could buy. Chambers’ lips drew into a thin line and he lowered his eyes to the deck.

  “My apologies, sir.”

  James lifted the spyglass again and turned his attention back to the pirate vessel. With her stern to them, the Venture was safe enough from her cannons. Dunbar wanted nothing more than to board her and find out if the true treasure aboard the Saucy Maid was still there. But it’s been five years, He reminded himself. If Raven is there, he can’t be in any fit state. No, McSwain has replaced him, undoubtedly. But with that thought in mind, that he might be rescuing some other poor wretch from suffering a dismal fate, James made his decision.

  “Mr. Hastings, take us in within grapnel range but mind that reef! Mr. Porter, if they even attempt to move her, give them a round or two up the aft to let them know we are deadly serious? Very good,” James saw that they were closing on the Maid in good time.

  “Long muskets,” He heard Chambers call out as they got within range. “Open fire.”

  James watched the pirates duck and scurry from the assault. These men had been immortal when he last saw
them. But a lead ball smashed into the back of the blond pirate who had once tormented Raven and he went down to lay still as death on the deck. “These are tricky devils, Chambers. Remind the men to make sure they’re really dead.”

  Chambers glanced up at him with a puzzled expression. “Sir?”

  James gestured impatiently for him to get on with it and Chambers turned back to do as he was ordered. James thought it odd that these pirates were behaving as they were. When they had last met, he’d given one a mortal wound but the man had bounced up off the deck after a moment or two, fit as a fiddle except for the bloody tear in his clothing. He signaled Beardsley and a half-dozen grapnels flew into the Maid’s rigging. The first group of marines began to board.

  James made his way to the nearest rope. He swung across with the third group and shook his head, baffled. The crew of the Maid was putting up no organized resistance. Here and there were skirmishes but there was no united effort. James drew his sword and engaged a dark-skinned pirate with thick, snake-like locks. The man fought well but seemed to tire quickly. James struck the sword from his hand with a forehand blow and cut his throat open on the back-swing. The man’s eyes grew wide with shock then he crumpled to the deck in a useless heap. James cast about then for what he really wanted.

  “McSwain!!” He bellowed as he made his way toward the captain’s quarters. “Captain McSwain, I demand you surrender!”

  As if in a work of Shakespeare, the villain emerged from the hatch, sword in hand. Dressed in somewhat finer attire than he had been at their last encounter, he glowered at James with a ferocity that belied the shaking of his sword-hand. James kept his face expressionless though the fear on McSwain’s countenance was encouraging. “Nay, boy, I think not. Ye may take these cowardly cockroaches t’ yer gallows but ye’ll have t’ kill me here an’ now, on the deck of me own ship.”

  James saluted him with his sword. “Very well then, Captain. En garde.”

  McSwain charged him with very little finesse but a great deal of gusto. James sidestepped the attack and spanked the flat of his blade across McSwain’s back. The combined momentum ran McSwain into the mizzen. The pirate spun about and snarled.

  “You think you can defeat me? Ye’re naught but a high-born dandy who only escaped me clutches because I let ye go, hmm?” McSwain panted for air and made a cut through the air to keep Dunbar back. “I’m Bloody McSwain of the Nighthawk once an’ now of the Saucy Maid. I rule the fastest, deadliest ship in the Caribbean with steel and lead. My crew--.”

  “Your crew is nearly all gone,” James replied, using his sword to point to the dying bodies of pirates on the deck as well as the knots of marines clamping shackles or tying ropes about the wrists of miscreants. “And you are not the threat you once were. I believe you were never the threat you pretended to be, except to certain poor unfortunates.”

  At that, McSwain’s eyes narrowed and James could tell McSwain understood exactly what he was talking about. “He warn’t as unfortunate as ye seem t’ think. He deserved all he got, in some measure.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” James lunged suddenly and McSwain blocked it.

  Countering with a feint of his own, McSwain whirled to his left and gained more freedom to move about. Dunbar pursued, satisfied that this would end as it should. McSwain was struggling obviously as James backed him across the main deck then up the ladder to the quarter. A shot from one of the marines whizzed by McSwain’s head and James glared down at the man, daring him to fire again.

  McSwain recognized that he was running out of room so, with the wheel at his back, he made his stand. “What is it ye think ye’ll get, eh?”

  James shook his head, trading blows steadily with the pirate. “You have no idea what drives me in this, McSwain. If you understood, you would never need to ask.”

  “Ah,” McSwain said with a sneer. “Ye’re one o’ them fools what believes that ‘true love will out’ an’ all such nonsense, aren’t ye?”

  “Nonsense,” James echoed then shrugged. “I serve the cause of justice, that’s all. The crimes I know you have committed are more than enough to justify a cold end. Whatever atrocities you have performed against other poor wretches merely strengthens my resolve. Throw down your sword and I will return you to Port Royal for hanging.”

  “Hang pirates, do ye?” McSwain narrowly missed carving a line in his cheek. “All pirates? Or just the ones that ain’t in yer favor?”

  “I cannot ignore the law. Piracy, like any crime, has a punishment. You know as well as I do what that punishment is,” James took a step back from McSwain, breathing harder now thanks to all the talking. “But merely being aboard a pirate vessel does not make one a pirate, or I would have been hanged with such a label myself.”

  “Aye, that’s right,” McSwain was breathing hard himself. “Ye did have a soft spot fer ‘im, din’t ye? Well, ye’re too late. ‘Tis all--.”

  James took advantage of McSwain’s lapse of attention and drove the point of his sword hard into the pirate’s belly. It made him all the angrier that McSwain considered his regard for Raven a “soft spot.” He yanked the sword out of McSwain’s flesh and the pirate fell forward, toward him. Without thinking, James caught McSwain. The pirate seized his lapels and glared into his eyes as he died.

  “Don’t be a fool, boy,” McSwain’s voice was more air than sound now. “Hang ‘im like any other pirate. There ain’t been one man who loved him who met ought but an ill end. Hang him an’ lay the curse t’ rest.”

  “I don’t believe in curses, Captain,” James sniffed then pushed the dead man off him. He wiped his sword on McSwain’s coat then turned to see the ship was now under navy control. Time to examine the captain’s cabin, James told himself though his stomach roiled at the thought of what he might find there.

  He passed through the great-room where he had spent a week’s worth of meals with McSwain and Raven, noting that it looked little changed. Without knocking, he stepped into the cabin and saw, on the bunk, a sleeping boy of about 18 or so. Brown hair bound back with a rag; beautiful amber eyes that opened to fix upon the door as he entered. Of course, he’s not here, Dunbar reminded himself. That was five years ago. Surely that madman has killed him by now. How could I believe such a liar? A sharp pain in his heart made him blink back tears; he had wanted desperately to believe McSwain that Raven was still alive. He was about to approach the young man when he detected a blur of movement off to the side. Turning quickly, he intercepted his attacker and threw him to the floor. It was at that moment he realized his attacker was Raven. The blue eyes blazed and he regained his feet, shoving himself between James and the boy. James’s relief at finding him alive was tempered, though, by the sight of his badly swollen eye.

  “Ye’ll not harm him,” Raven said, the hoarse voice not much louder than it was when they first met. “Leave the boy be.”

  “Do you remember me?” He asked, wondering if he could get through to the man. “My name’s James Dunbar.”

  There was a hesitance, the azure eyes narrowing. “Y-You were a lieutenant?”

  James nodded. “Yes, I was. We have those pirates, the ones that still live, safely stowed aboard our vessel. I’ve come to set you free—both of you.”

  “Free?” The boy spoke from the bed and managed to crawl out of it. He’d been whipped nearly raw and there were plenty of bruises, some fresh, some old. “Did he say free?”

  Raven nodded, turning to help the boy back to the bed. He spoke again. “Don’t know what he means, love, but we’ll find out. Back t’ bed. Gotta get you better, eh?”

  The boy nodded and leaned on the raven-haired man’s arm to accompany him back to the bed. He collapsed there and his eyes closed almost immediately in exhaustion. It was then that Raven turned back to him.

  “Ye mean what ye say?” It finally occurred to Dunbar that the reason Raven spoke in such a way was because he had no other way to speak. Dunbar nodded. “McSwain? The bosun? All caught or killed?”

  Dunbar
nodded again. “Might I have your name?”

  Raven nodded. “Aye. My name is Aaron Johnson. The boy is Isaac Stern.”

  “Very good. Mr. Johnson—“

  “Captain, Captain Aaron Johnson, if ye please, sir,” He managed. “McSwain led me crew in a mutiny against me.”

  “So this is your ship?” James asked, a sorrowful look in his eyes. “She’s damaged beyond repair, I’m afraid. The coral ripped her hull open almost to the waterline. She’ll never sail again.”

  For a moment, the glowing eyes filled with tears and he slumped into a nearby chair. After gathering his composure, he stood. “Then neither will I. She’s spoiled me fer all other ships, ye know. Here.”

  Aaron offered his wrists to James and the officer looked puzzled. “Whatever for?”

  “I was a pirate,” Aaron said, raising his wrists slightly. “Ye’re bound to arrest and hang pirates, ain’t ye?”

  James smiled grimly. “Somehow, my friend, I think you have been punished enough for whatever misdeeds you may have committed. Let me call for a pair of midshipmen to bring a litter for Mr. Stern. Would you prefer to stay in the same cabin as Mr. Stern? There is a surgeon aboard the Venture who can see to his treatment, if you wish.”

  Aaron nodded. “’At sounds good, Captain. Thanks very much.”

  “You’re very welcome,” James said, lowering his voice. “Do you-?”

  Abruptly, the question he was about to ask fled from James’s thoughts as Johnson paled and collapsed forward into his arms. James caught him then, upon realizing how thin Aaron was—and how obviously unwell, lifted him and carried him from the cabin into the wardroom. He placed Aaron in a chair and began to rub his hands.

  “Captain Johnson. Captain Johnson? Can you hear me?” He patted at the cheeks lightly and leaned in close to see if Johnson still breathed. He smells fresh, like lavender, almost as if he bathed recently. The thought surprised James slightly because the entire time he had been aboard the Maid previously, there had been no effort to maintain any cleanliness except where the galley and its accoutrements were concerned.