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The Pirate Bride
The Pirate Bride
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The Pirate Bride

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“Oh?”

“We parleyed. I now have the captain with me, as my prisoner. He is a Lord Haggerty. Ever hear of the man?” Red asked.

Blackbeard leaned back, grinning. “Aye. I know the fellow. I’ve met with him in this very tavern.”

“But he isn’t a pirate.”

“No. Neither is he military. He sails a merchant ship.”

“Still, he is no outlaw. What was he doing here?” Red demanded.

“Business.”

“Treasure?”

Blackbeard laughed. “Nay, poppet. He came to sell what makes a life fine. The finest feather pillows. Silk sheets. Porcelain from China. Tea. Coffee. Apples.”

“And he wasn’t simply killed in the streets here?” Red asked, amazed.

“I had the opportunity to watch the first time he came. He strode in with his crew, right bold, and when he was challenged, he demanded that he be met man to man. After he bested three of the doughtiest fellows on the isle, I considered challenging him. But, I confess, I was intrigued by his brashness in dropping anchor in the bay, and then stepping foot on land. He was well aware, however, that no quarter would be given to him on the seas if he traveled with merchandise and was caught.”

“I didn’t give him quarter,” Red snapped.

“So he took you in through eloquence as well?” Blackbeard teased.

“He is my prisoner,” she said.

“Of course.”

She decided to change the subject. “So, I seek revenge, I admit it. And you seek plunder. If we were to go after Blair Colm together—”

“Poppet, give it up.”

Red groaned. “Good God, not you, too.”

He lifted her chin with his massive forefinger. “I will die on deck. I will die at the point of a sword, or by an enemy volley. That is how it must be. Until then, I will terrorize the sea, I will have a dozen more wives, and I will drink and challenge every man I meet, and mayhap even God. But you…that shouldn’t be your life.”

“Why not? I would rather die at sea than scrub another floor or be forced to bed some pox-ridden old man or die myself of his venereal disease,” she said, deadly serious.

“Ah, but don’t you dream of something better?” he queried.

“My dreams are of corpses on a battlefield, the blood of children slain,” she said.

He sighed and leaned back. “Sorry, poppet. I’m not suicidal. I won’t join my forces to yours, but I will give you gold and buy you rum, eh?”

“Cap’n Blackbeard,” she said, determined not to sound disappointed, “I will be honored to lift a glass with you.”

He shook his head. “Ah, and you speak like a lady, lass.”

“Maybe I was a lady. Once. Past memory, past caring. God knows, I was so young when the troops came. I remember…”

“Aye?”

“My mother,” she said, blushing slightly. “Aye, she was a lady. So softly spoken, so regal…but she is gone, dead and gone, and so is the life I was born to. There is nothing to return to of the life I lived then. But…I have not lost faith in all humanity. There was Lygia.”

“Lygia?” he repeated.

“The daughter of the witch who bought my indenture papers from the officer who decided I was worth more alive than dead,” she said. “She was ugly as sin, but as sweet and kind as her mother was cold and cruel. We’ll drink to her! I imagine she is rich now, with her mother’s passing. May she find happiness at last.”

“To Lygia. Bless the lass!” he said. “Rich, you say. How ugly was she?”

Red laughed, lifting her glass high. “Quite. But who knows? With enough darkness and enough rum, the ugliest lass may become the fairest. Especially if she is rich. Or so I’ve heard men say.”

He looked at her strangely as he drank his rum.

“Curious…”

“What?”

“That it is you who came upon Laird Haggerty.”

“Why is that?”

“Ah, poppet. I keep your secrets, but I keep his, as well.”

“He has secrets?”

“He has…an agenda.”

“And?”

“I just said, I keep a man’s secrets.”

“Edward…”

“Don’t you go wheedling me, girl. I have said all I shall upon that topic. Men come to this tavern for amusement. For whores and for drink. And to listen.”

“Listen to what?”

“I’ve said all I will say.”

“But you keep giving me clues!”

“I shall say no more. Drink up.”

She tried, but he had made up his mind, and he would say no more. So they drank. She would have her promised gold, and there it would end.

THERE WERE MANY MEN in the shanty tavern so drunk they wouldn’t have noticed an earthquake. Some lay on tables in the puddles of their own ale. Whores sat atop the laps of others, mindless of the drunkards snoring nearby. Bodices slipped, hands ran up under skirts and ribald shouting and jokes filled the air, along with the stench of old meat, stale tobacco and unwashed bodies.

Logan turned to Brendan. “Nice place,” he commented dryly.

“Aye, and obviously you know it well,” Brendan said, his tone equally dry.

Logan shrugged. “You and the captain don’t look the type to…appreciate such an establishment,” Logan said.

“Nor do you.”

“I come for business, then leave.”

“There’s no legitimate business done here.”

Logan had to laugh. “Actually, there is. I certainly didn’t intend to run into a pirate vessel on the high seas, but dealing with pirates on land can be quite profitable.”

“And very bad business, as well,” Brendan commented, eying Logan carefully. “You do know something about the art of negotiation, my friend. But there are those who don’t wish to negotiate. I’ve met many a fellow who cares nothing for human life. Expediency is what rules. Many a pirate captain would gladly have slit the throat of every man on your crew—or saved steel and bullets and simply tossed them all overboard.”

“But not without great loss of life and limb, even if I would have gone down fighting,” Logan informed him.

“True enough. So…” Brendan stared at him still. “A man of honor, are you?”

“And your captain’s a pirate of honor,” Logan returned.

“We’ll drink to he—him,” Brendan said, lifting his glass.

“What business has the captain with Blackbeard?” Logan asked.

Brendan looked back at him, weighing the risks of sharing information with a captive. “The captain wishes to join forces with Teach.”

“With Teach?” Logan was startled. He knew himself that Teach was crafty, but not nearly so cruel as his carefully crafted reputation would have others believe. Teach didn’t hesitate to kill when necessary, but he was far more prone to let a man live when possible. He never relished killing the innocent, as did some fellows on the sea.

Knowing what he knew, Logan couldn’t but feel that Captain Red Robert…should not be partnering with the notorious Edward Teach.

His honor urged him to leap up, stride into the private room where the two were meeting and demand Teach unhand the woman known as Red Robert. But the impulse was pure insanity, he knew. He had battled Red. She could hold her own. She didn’t need nor want his protection.

And, should he attempt to give it, he would no doubt find himself skewered through the heart or the liver, perhaps even castrated, but certainly, in whatever manner, left dead or dying.

Still, it was hard to remain sitting upon the raw wooden stool where he was perched, and warning himself not to be an idiot wasn’t much help. Yet surely, if there were something to fear, Brendan would not be sitting beside him so calmly, sipping his ale.

Hagar came up to the bar just then. “Brendan,” he said, offering a nod to Logan. “Ye’ll be needing to talk to the cap’n. Ship’s carpenter has warned, we’ve got to careen her. Soon.”

Brendan frowned, as if warning Hagar to speak softly on such a matter.

Since pirates couldn’t simply take their ships into a port and have them dry-docked, it was necessary to take them to a secluded place where they could be “careened,” hauled ashore and rolled to each side, so that the hull could be scraped of barnacles and tarred against woodworm. It was a dangerous procedure, for it left both the ship and her crew vulnerable. Most pirates, Logan knew, did only one side of a ship at a time. It was too easy for others to discover that a ship was lying vulnerable, and even if other privateers left her alone, there was always the law to fear. The governors of the various colonies were always pleased to increase their popularity by sending out their naval officers to bring down a pirate, and a hanging was a full day’s entertainment for most.

“Aye,” Brendan said, and Hagar nodded, aware that it wasn’t something Brendan wanted to discuss in their present circumstance.

When Hagar moved on to answer the taunting call of a bare-breasted woman, Logan commented casually, “I take it the fellow has not long been a pirate?”

Brendan ran a finger up and down the heavy glass that held his ale. “You’re a decent fellow, Lord Haggerty. If you want to live long and prosper, you shouldn’t ask so many questions.”

“I’ve given my word. I won’t be trying to escape.”

A dry smile curled Brendan’s lips. “Aye, but you see, we intend not only to let you live, but to see to it that you are returned to your people, whether there be a fine ransom paid or no. Too much information is not good for a man who will return to the world where the king’s law holds sway.”

“The king’s law,” Logan repeated, his tone hinting of bitterness. “There are no doubt good men in that world, but I have never been deceived. Laws are made by those in power. And what men do when they gain power is too often far removed from any law of decency, justice or humanity…far from any law made by God.” He turned, then slid from his stool, surprised to see that the door to the private room where Red had been meeting with Blackbeard was open.

“Where is Teach?” he asked Brendan sharply.

Brendan turned. Both the massive Blackbeard and Red were gone. The room was empty of all but its rough wood table and chairs.

“How the hell did we miss a man such as Blackbeard?” Logan asked, unable to believe he had forgotten to pay strict attention.

“He would never harm Red,” Brendan said, but he sounded anxious, as well.

He might have been the prisoner, but Logan started for the door. To his surprise, Sonya was suddenly in front of him, setting her palm on his chest, splaying out her fingers.

“Lord Haggerty, don’t be in such a hurry,” she drawled.

He hesitated, looking at her. He’d never fooled with the whores in this place, though he’d tipped well enough for his drinks. But she knew he wasn’t interested in what she had to offer.

She was trying to keep him from leaving.

“Brendan, we need to go,” he said sharply.

“What?” Brendan asked.

“Sonya knows something. In fact, I’d say someone paid her to stop us,” he said softly, looking into the woman’s eyes.

She flushed, lowering her thick lashes.

“Nay, ’tis only that I live by the profits of this place,” she said, sounding a little desperate.

“I doubt if any man is brave enough to go after Blackbeard,” Logan said. “So who paid you to keep us here so that they could go after Captain Red Robert?”

She stepped away, but he caught her arms and dragged her back.

“Sonya?”

“I don’t know!” she snapped. “Some fellow…he gave me gold,” she said, as if that would explain everything.

He moved her firmly aside and looked at Brendan. “I haven’t figured out what Red Robert is so bent on achieving, nor do I know who or why, but someone is after Red.”

Brendan stared at him, then turned toward the door. Logan caught his arm. “We’re in this together,” he told him quietly. “And may I suggest you call your man Hagar, as well?”

Brendan, face taut, nodded stiffly. For a moment he’d had a reckless look in his eyes. He was a formidable man, tall and muscled, but agile, and his concern would have sent him off without heed, but Logan’s words reined in his impulse to rush out alone. He sized Logan up carefully while shouting, “Hagar, gather who you can. We’re going after the cap’n. Now!”

They moved out. There were narrow alleys to either side of the tavern, both now dark and menacing, filled with shadows and gloom. Each led into smaller, darker alleys, little craters of blackness that could hide many a sin. Ghostly laundry hung in the darkening mist of the day. A dog howled as the wind picked up, and the screeching cry of a cat sent shivers up Logan’s back. A scurrying sound warned them of rats.

The day was no longer what it had been.