Chapter Sixteen

Amelia stepped aboard the Intrepid at dawn, refusing to wait any longer. The young officer who met her bowed politely, something like sympathy in his eyes as he led her down to the brig, where her father was being held.

Her heart broke to see him there, behind bars, and she might have cried had she not wanted to spare him the sight of her tears. Instead, she turned to the soldier. ‘What is your name, sir?’

He looked surprised. ‘Lieutenant Walker, miss.’

‘Very well, Lieutenant Walker. I would speak with my father alone.’

He shook his head. ‘I can’t do that, miss. Under orders.’ She said nothing to that, just held his gaze until he started to crumble. ‘I, uh … I’ll just wait over here, at the foot of the steps.’

So he did, his back turned. It was a kindness, she supposed, as much as a man in his position was able to offer. At least it allowed her some privacy, enough to talk quietly with her father.

He stood at the bars, his hands seeking hers past the iron. ‘Are you well, my child? Did they hurt you?’

‘I am well.’ She squeezed his hands, reminding herself that they’d held cold steel not twelve hours ago. He did not seem so old now, but strong and weathered. She had never loved him more. ‘Our people are nervous, Father. If Morton does not release you …’

His lips pursed. ‘He will not release me, Amelia. You must harden yourself to that.’

‘I can’t. I won’t accept that, Father. I won’t let him—’

‘How will you stop him? Will you take the Sunlight to engage a ship of the line?’ He glanced at Lieutenant Walker’s turned back, lowering his voice. ‘You know I would gladly die for Ile Sainte Anne – but you, my child, you must live. You must do everything you can to protect the Articles and to pass them on when it is time. They cannot die here – we cannot let that happen.’

The weight of what he asked was huge and it bowed her shoulders. ‘Father, I can’t. I don’t know how to start.’

‘Amelia.’ He tilted her face upward and smiled. ‘You are already a captain, are you not? I simply charge you with a larger ship. Steer her into safe waters, my child. Overton will help you.’

‘Overton is gone. I’ve not seen him since you and Zach were taken.’

‘That is ill news. I hope he does not plan something reckless.’ Her father frowned. ‘Keep a weather eye open, my dear. Overton is not likely to have strayed far.’

Above them she heard a distant sound, the rattle of a drum. ‘Perhaps he is with Zach? I thought he would be here, that I might be able to— What? Father, what is it?’

Dismay carved stark lines into his face, around his eyes and open mouth.

‘Father?’ She clutched his hands. ‘Father, please, what is it?’

‘Stay here, child,’ he said, anguished. ‘Stay with me below.’

Above, the drum rattled again. Something sick curled in the pit of her stomach and she looked over at Walker. He was staring up the steps, a tight expression on his face.

Again the drum rattled and stopped dead.

‘Father,’ she said. ‘What’s happening?’

He was silent, and when she looked back at him she saw tears on his kind, weathered face. ‘Oh, Amelia, my child … They took him up just before dawn. I thought— I hoped Morton would—’

The world spun and she had to hold on to the bars to stay upright. Then she was breaking free of her father’s desperate grip, pushing past Walker and racing up the steps.

‘Amelia, don’t!’

Nothing could stop her. On deck, daylight momentarily blinded her and she skidded, disoriented. Then she saw Morton, brash in his red coat, and Luc standing before him talking urgently, gesturing. His words came to her in snatches.

‘… not part of the deal … swore you’d leave Dauphin and his daughter alone, if I brought you—’ Then he saw Amy and stared in shock. ‘Dear God, why are you here?’

Behind her, louder now, the drum rattled once more and she saw a marine in dress uniform wielding drumsticks like weapons. Behind him, flanked by two other soldiers, stood a man in a dark shirt and britches, arms tied behind him and—

‘Oh, please, no.’

—and a noose about his neck, the rope slung up over one of the foreyard arms.

Shock turned her knees liquid. If Luc hadn’t appeared at her side, she might have fallen. ‘Zach …’

At the sound of her voice he turned, and for a blistering moment their gaze met. Fear, anger and hurt – they were all there, seething in his eyes. Then, deliberately, he turned away; he couldn’t bear to look at the woman who had lured him to his death.

The drum rattled for the last time and stopped. Far above, a breeze set the lines clattering against the masts and into that bright blue morning Morton shouted, ‘Run him up.’

The rope began to tighten.

Amy surged forward, but a marine was in her path, blocking her. ‘No!’ she screamed as Zach’s toes were lifted from the deck, legs kicking. ‘Mercy! I beg you have mercy! Please!’

The marine cursed thoroughly, shoving her backward so hard only Luc’s arms kept her on her feet.

‘Don’t look.’ He pulled her into his arms, turning her away from the grizzly sight. ‘For the love of God, Amy, don’t look.’

She didn’t, she couldn’t, she just sobbed and sobbed as behind her they hanged Zach Hazard.