Chapter 14

 

 

Ned strode down the line of British officers and soldiers positioned in a row on board the Revenge. He measured each of them in turn until he came to Boyd standing at the far end. The two men faced each other in matched hostility.

“So,” Ned began. “Ye’re Gunn, are ye? What’s yer name?”

“Boyd Gunn. I’m Guild Master, and I’ll have ye ken I’ll destroy ye for this if it’s the last thing I do.”

Ned closed his eyes and held up his hand. “Dinnae waste yer breath on me. Ye’ve killed enough of me men in yer time, I’m sure. A few more here or there winnae make any difference to ye in the long run. Just go home to Orkney and breed a few more sons, and ye’ll be right as rain.”

“I should have kenned ye’d take back the lassie ye sent against us,” Boyd snarled. “I kenned she was one of yers. We’ll no’ quit until we retake her, and when we do, she’ll no’ have an easy time telling us all she kens about ye and yer activities.”

Ned frowned. “I have no notion what ye’re talking on. I never laid eyes on that lassie before in me life.”

“No.” Boyd’s lips contorted in a hideous smile. “Ye never laid eyes on her before, but she laid eyes on ye. We all saw that. She recognized ye. She kens ye, and we all ken why, do we no’? Ye sent her here. She’s part of yer plan.”

Ned turned away. “I dinnae ken what ye’re raving on, and I dinnae care.”

Malcolm watched the scene from his position on the deck, laying on his side with his arms askew. Pain when the pirates dumped his unconscious bulk here had woken him from his swoon. He kept his eyelids at half-mast, pretending to still be unconscious while Ned interrogated Boyd and the British Officers. He didn’t see Vic anywhere. That at least gave him some peace of mind.

A few pirates came up from below. “It’s done. It’s rushing in like there’s nae tomorrow.”

“Aye,” Ned replied. “Clear off, all of ye.” He waved his saber toward the hatch. “Get below. March.”

The soldiers and sailors still alive filed down the companionway, into the hold. Boyd resisted until Gilias came up behind him and kicked him on his way. Boyd spun around to fight back, and ten pirates attacked him at once and dragged him toward the hatch.

“What are ye going to do with him?” Boyd nodded toward Malcolm’s inert form.

“We’ll throw him overboard,” Ned replied. “Now get below and no more arguing. We’ll lock ye in the cargo hold so yer end comes quickly.”

“Ye’ll pay for this,” Boyd growled. “This isnae over. Ye’ll see.”

“No, it isnae over.” Ned leaned against the mast and inspected his fingernails. “It isnae over by a mile.”

Boyd’s yells dwindled down the companionway until they disappeared. Malcolm lay still until the pirates started coming back up. When the last man returned and closed the hatch behind him, Ned crossed the deck and squatted down next to Malcolm. “All right. They’re gone.”

Malcolm picked up his head and winced. “Did ye have to hit me so hard?”

Ned took hold of his hand and hauled him to his feet. “We had to make a good show of it. Are ye all right?”

Malcolm cradled his throbbing head. “I’ll be fine. Where is she?”

“She’s below, just like ye asked,” Ned replied.

“I asked!” Malcolm whipped around to confront him. “But ye didnae receive the message in time. How could ye ken what I asked?”

“Noah told us. See?” Ned pointed to his left.

Malcolm gazed across the water. Far in the distance, a tiny figure stood on top of the highest point of land visible on the horizon, waving.

“He sent us the signal about ten minutes before ye showed up,” Ned told him. “It’s lucky he got there in time, or we would never have pulled it off.”

All at once, Malcolm couldn’t hold himself upright any longer. His shoulders hunched, and his back sagged.

Ned caught him under the arm. “Ye better sit down, lad. Come to me cabin and have a dram with me before ye—”

“No,” Malcolm interrupted. “She could come to at any second. I have to get below and be ready when she wakes up.”

Ned studied him. “Are ye sure about this, lad?”

“Aye. I have to be.” Malcolm drew a shaky breath. Maybe if he said it out loud, he would become sure of it. “We have to swing her over. One of them on the other side would be too risky.”

Ned rubbed his chin. “I dinnae say ye’re wrong, only…”

Malcolm didn’t look up. “Trust me, lad. She’s one of them. If we can swing her, she could be useful to us against the Gunns. Boyd doesnae ken about her—no’ yet.”

“Aye, but he suspects something’s afoot with her.”

Malcolm arched a brow. “He does?”

Ned gave him a solemn nod. “He shared his suspicions with me. I think I convinced him well enough that he was wrong.”

“Good lad.” Malcolm stared at Ned wide-eyed. “We can swing her, and when Boyd takes her back to the Guild House, he’ll trust her enough to tell her his secrets. He could come to trust her more than he trusts me. Think on it.”

“Ye’d use her against the Gunns?” Ned whispered. “How could ye do that?”

“I’ll no’ do it. She’ll do it herself. Ye’ve seen these women. They want to fight the Gunns. They want to do anything to win this war for us.”

“But she doesnae even support us,” Ned returned. “Ye’re risking yer own hide with this plan.”

“Aye.” Malcolm drew himself up. “I’m risking it, so the sooner I find out if it’s forfeit or no’, the better.” He pushed himself upright. He couldn’t hesitate, or he would lose his nerve. He hopped over the rail on board the Prometheus, and Ned scrambled over after him.

Malcolm surveyed the ship he knew so well. “Show me where she is.”

Ned guided him into the hold. They wound their way around barrels and bales of goods to the farthest, darkest corner of the galleon’s interior. Ned stopped next to a large wooden crate.

Malcolm raised one eyebrow. “Is this it?”

“She’s inside.”

“All right.” Malcolm blew out his breath. He was never more nervous in his life. “Help me open it.”

Ned pulled out a crowbar from between two barrels and pried off the crate’s lid, and he and Malcolm propped it to one side. Malcolm stood back and gazed down at Vic asleep on a bed of hay. He and Ned observed the gentle rise and fall of her rib cage.

“She’s a beauty,” Ned murmured.

Malcolm snorted. “Ye’ve got yer own beauty, lad. Dinnae go hunting another.”

“I’m no’ hunting her,” Ned remarked. “I’m simply stating the obvious.”

“Well, dinnae state it.” Malcolm kicked his shoes into a corner and unbuckled his saber. He laid everything in a pile and stepped into the crate. “Ye have yer orders, lad.”

Ned frowned. “Are ye sure about this? I dinnae like it much.”

“Just do it.” Malcolm lay down on the hay behind Vic, curled his body around hers, and laid one arm over her slender waist.

Ned didn’t move. “Dinnae ask me to do this, lad. It’s suicide.”

“Do it,” Malcolm barked. “I’m no’ asking. Seal me in, and dinnae let me see yer face again. It’s the only way.” He laid his head down on the hay.

Ned picked up the crate’s lid and rested it back into place.

Darkness swallowed Malcolm, and a moment later, he heard the pounding of a hammer driving nails back into place. He closed his eyes against the stabbing pain in his head. For the first time in years, he relaxed in every pore. He didn’t have to watch his back here. He didn’t have to do anything. He started to drift off when Vic twitched.

On instinct, his arm tightened around her waist before he corrected and let her go. She squirmed once, then jolted wide-awake and taut to spring.

“It’s all right, lass,” he whispered in her ear. “Ye’re safe for now. I’m here.”

She jerked around, but the crate didn’t give her enough space to turn over. “Malcolm! What’s going on?”

“It’s all right, lassie,” he breathed. “Ye’re all right. Ye’ve taken a knock on the head, that’s all.”

“Where are we?” she asked. “What’s this box we’re in?”

“We’re on board the Lewises ship,” he told her. “We both got knocked out, and they’ve taken us, but we’re safe for the moment. We’re in a crate in their hold.”

She yanked away from him. “In a crate!”

He eased her back down. “Ye might as well lie still. Neither of us is going anywhere for a good wee while.”

“Where are they taking us?” she asked.

“I didnae ask. I was unconscious when they put me in here.”

She collapsed back on the hay next to him. Now that he lay next to her, he craved more than anything to put his arm around her, but he didn’t want to frighten her or drive her away. He had to take his time.

She let out a broken sigh. “I saw you fighting with Ned.”

“Niall Lewis.”

“Is that the name he uses? He’s immortal, isn’t he? He uses the name Ned in my world. I recognize him.”

“Aye, he’s immortal,” he replied. “I’m sure he’s as hard at work on the Cipher’s Kiss in yer time as he is here.”

“I told you he was,” she returned. “He hooked up with my friend Ree, and they’re working on it together.”

“Och, yes.” He rested his head down again. “Now I remember.”

“What happened in the battle?” she asked. “Where are all the others? Where’s Boyd?”

“Boyd’s at the bottom of the ocean by now,” he replied. “Niall sank the ship with everyone on it.”

“Sank it!” she cried. “What did he have to go and do that for?”

“He couldn’t leave them alive to come after him again,” Malcolm replied. “This is war, lass. If anyone can get rid of his enemies, he does.”

“Then why did he take us prisoner?” she asked. “Why did he keep us alive?”

Malcolm kept his eyes closed against the dark. “I’m sure he had his reasons.”

She lay stiff and silent for a long time. At last, she sank down next to him and relaxed. “This is a fine how-do-you-do. What are they going to do with us?”

“I’m sure I dinnae ken,” he muttered.

“Ned said he’d give me to his men.”

All at once, Malcolm couldn’t contain himself. He chuckled. He couldn’t stop it bubbling out of him louder and louder until he burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded.

He settled down and wiped his eyes on his shoulder. “I’m sure if he intended to give ye to his men, he’d have done it by now. He would have made sure ye were very conscious when he did it too. He never would have nailed ye up in this.”

He felt her head moving from one side to the other. “I wonder why he nailed me up in here.”

“Perhaps he did it to keep ye safe from his men,” Malcolm suggested.

“So why did he nail you up in it along with me?” she asked. “That’s what doesn’t make sense.”

Yeah. How was he going to explain that? He couldn’t think of any valid reason for it, so he kept silent.

After a while, she murmured under her breath. “Maybe they plan to torture you. From what Boyd said, these Angui are capable of anything.”

Malcolm froze. What was he doing down here in this crate with her? He’d orchestrated this whole situation. Now he found himself face-to-face with the moment of truth. He had to take the risk and accept the consequences. He took a deep breath, but when he summoned the courage to speak, he couldn’t form more than a whisper. “They’ll no’ torture me, lass.”

“How do you know?” she asked. “Aren’t they your mortal enemies? You just said they would kill you if they got a chance. It doesn’t make sense unless they plan to get their revenge on you.”

He bowed his head. His nose brushed her hair, and the fragrant scent entered his brain. “They’ll no’ torture me, lass, and they’ll no’ kill me because I am Angui.”