McNamara frowned as he looked at his cards. He was playing one-and-thirty at the Admiral Cordingly with two acquaintances of his named Robinson and Coburn, fellow card players he happened to meet one night several weeks back. He held a nine and a knave, and he had just exchanged a three for a six, giving him a total of twenty-five points. He wondered whether to knock or not, which would end the hand. The player whose three cards came the closest to equaling a total of thirty-one without going over would win. So far, McNamara had lost twice so far by knocking too early only to find that his opponents held slightly better hands. Still, there weren’t that many cards he could count on at this point.
Although he was losing, McNamara was nevertheless enjoying himself. Some nights, when his classes were done for the day, he liked reading by himself either in his rooms or at a tavern over a meal and a drink, but on other nights such as this one, he preferred the company of others over a friendly game of cards, finding a group of regulars to play with. The stakes were low, as none of them could afford to lose too much money over a game of cards. For them, as it was for him, it was merely recreation.
As the game commenced, he saw Margaret Harold serving a drink to a pair of male customers, smiling flirtatiously at them. After exchanging what appeared to be a few niceties, Margaret turned around and happened to catch McNamara’s gaze. Her smile immediately turned frosty, and she turned away, pretending not to notice him. McNamara sighed, regretting how things had ended between them. He hadn’t expected Margaret to be so smitten with him, an affection he could no longer honestly return on account of his own feelings towards Catalina.
Still, he was convinced he’d done right by her. He couldn’t be a good husband to Margaret if he was in love with someone else. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them. It was foolish, since Catalina could never be his, but he could not mislead Margaret. Margaret had naturally been hurt that she had been cast aside for someone else, particularly someone McNamara could never be with, and now she only expressed a cold cordiality towards him.
“Michael?” Robinson said. “Michael, it’s your turn. Coburn just knocked.”
“Hmm? Oh, sorry,” McNamara answered, looking hastily at his cards.
He exchanged the six, only to get another six. Robinson traded his card, and everyone showed their hands. Coburn had come the closest with a pair of queens and an eight, while Robinson held an ace, a ten, and a four. McNamara repressed a sigh as Coburn gathered up the coins on the table, not wanting the others to think it was because of his loss, as opposed to unhappiness over a broken friendship.
“Another game?” Coburn said.
Robinson shook his head. “Not for me. The wife is expecting me back. Tomorrow night, perhaps.”
“Until then, George,” Coburn replied. “What do you say, Michael? Want to make it a two-man game?”
McNamara shook his head. “The way my luck is going I think I should probably stop for the night.”
Coburn pocketed the cards and his winnings. “In that case, I’ll hopefully see you both tomorrow, then. Have a good night.”
“Good night,” McNamara said, remaining in his seat as Coburn and Robinson left the tavern.
As Margaret once again made a point of passing by him without seeming to notice him, McNamara wondered if he should find new accommodations. He had already wronged Margaret by rejecting her for a woman he could never have, and reminding her of that with his daily presence felt especially cruel. If only I could get Catalina out of my head…and my heart, he thought for what felt like the hundredth time.
The door opened violently all of a sudden, and McNamara’s eyes widened as a haggard-looking Lord Edmund Alleyn stumbled inside. His face was dreadfully pale, and his eyes were constantly darting about as if he was afraid of his throat being cut from behind him. He hadn’t been drinking - his balance was too good for a drunkard’s - but he looked like he desperately needed to be.
“Wine,” he croaked to Margaret as he all but collapsed onto a wooden chair.
“Lord Edmund?” McNamara gasped in disbelief as he carefully approached. “What’s the matter? Are you all right?”
Alleyn started violently at the sound of his name, but breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he saw who it was. “No, Mr. McNamara, I am definitely not all right,” Alleyn moaned. “I am a damned man. I have made a Faustian pact, sold my soul to a fiend in human form, and I will be cast down into Hell with innocent blood on my hands because of it.”
McNamara raised an eyebrow at Alleyn’s melodramatic words, but his talk about innocent blood concerned him. “What’s happened?”
Lord Edmund hesitated for a moment as if trying to decide whether he should tell McNamara about whatever was troubling him, before nodding wearily. “Captain Reynard,” Alleyn said, his voice laced with contempt, anger, and guilt. “He has deceived you. Deceived everyone.”
“Deceived? How?”
“The pirates he has been hunting, he is not taking them to be hanged. He was collecting them, uniting them all under his banner. His true mission is to create his very own pirate armada.”
McNamara felt the blood drain from his face. “To what end? And why the pretense at earning a pardon?”
“To get close to the king,” Alleyn moaned. “He means to abduct King George at the knighting ceremony and raid Bristol in the process, unleashing his newly collected allies on the entire city in a maelstrom of death and plunder.”
McNamara’s head was spinning with disbelief at the revelation and the scope of Reynard’s plans. Eight pirate ships and full crews launching a surprise attack on Bristol could easily level half the city to the ground. Knowing Reynard and his so-called captives, McNamara could all too easily imagine a death toll in the thousands. How could I not have ever suspected him? How could I have been so blind?
“How did you learn all this?”
“Learn it?” Alleyn said with a bitter, self-loathing laugh. “I knew. I knew it all along. I helped to facilitate it.”
Shock now gave way to anger. “What do you mean?”
“Because of my position at court and my cultivated friendship with King George, I interceded on Reynard’s behalf, getting the king to agree to pardon him and accept his offer to hunt down the other pirates. I persuaded him to agree to all of Reynard’s wishes and demands, and all so I could make it easier for Reynard to seize the king.”
McNamara’s mouth went dry. If Reynard and Lord Edmund had been playing games of deception, then... “What about Catalina? Is she an accomplice to this madness?”
“No, she is innocent,” Alleyn said. “But she is the key to his plan. Reynard told me that he was going to find a girl who would suit his purposes, allowing him to persuade the masses as well as the king that he was renouncing piracy for love. She is nothing more than a dupe, same as you, the governor, even the king. And God help me, I sold his story quite well.”
McNamara’s hands clenched into fists as a surge of loathing burned in his heart for Captain Reynard - not only for the cruel way he had used and deceived Catalina Moore, but the horror he was about to inflict on Bristol. He still had nightmares about the carnage Captain Lancaster had left behind at Ciudad d’Esperanza, and it was all too easy to imagine what would happen to Bristol.
The very thought made the bile rise in his throat. “For the love of God, why?” he finally snarled. “What were you thinking when you conceived this madness?”
“He conceived it!” Alleyn shot back. “He came to me, the plan fully formed in his twisted mind! I only facilitated it, persuaded the king to come to Bristol to knight him. The king will be vulnerable in Bristol.”
“I don’t care whose idea this was! What in Hell’s name possessed you to be a willing part of this madness?”
Alleyn mopped his brow as he swallowed the last of his wine. “Captain Reynard has spies everywhere, Mr. McNamara, and I do mean everywhere. Including the king’s court, including among my own servants. That is how he learned... that I am a spy for the Jacobites.”
“The Jacobites,” McNamara repeated as all the pieces suddenly fell into place in his mind. “So that’s it. This is all another attempt by the Jacobites to restore the Stuarts. You couldn’t do the job yourselves, so you came to Reynard and hired him to do it for you.”
“He came to me!” Alleyn nearly shrieked. “He learned from his spies that my loyalties were to the Jacobites, that I had corresponded with Cardinal Alberoni. He came to my home one night, revealed his plan, and threatened to expose me unless I cooperated. I have a family, as do many of my compatriots, and more importantly, I am a patriot! For the good of England and my family, I had no choice but to accept Reynard’s terms and persuade my collaborators to do the same!”
“A patriot!” McNamara spat contemptuously. “You’re helping unleash eight of the most notorious pirate captains of our time upon thousands of your own countrymen, and you dare call yourself a patriot!”
“I did not know that was part of the plan! I swear on my parents’ graves, I did not know! He said he’d make it look like a pirate attack, but I did not know he was going to take things so far!”
“You just said he’s going to make it look like a pirate attack! What did you think was going to happen?”
“Reynard asked me the same thing when I confronted him about it,” Alleyn said with another bitter laugh. “My pact with Reynard was born in desperation and fear. Fear for my family and for England’s future. But the price in blood... I thought it would be worth it in the end. But it is a much greater cost than I ever thought it could be. I was blind to it before, but I’m not now. It is not what I wanted, Mr. McNamara. You have to believe me on that.”
“Whether it’s what you intended or not, it’s going to happen anyway unless something can be done to prevent it. Is there any way Reynard might be stopped?”
“I doubt it,” Lord Edmund moaned, having given in to despair. “Even if there was, what could I do? I am not safe alone, and I do not know who to turn to for help. Reynard would never let me live long enough to warn Governor Lawes, and anyone I turn to for aid could be an agent of Captain Reynard’s.”
“You can turn to me,” McNamara said. “I don’t know how much help I can be, but if there’s any way we can prevent this horror from coming to pass, then my sword is yours.”
“Just the two of us against Reynard’s legions? You are mad, sir!”
“It’s a slim chance,” McNamara admitted. “But I prefer it to not taking any chance at all. If we try, we might fail, but then again, we might succeed.”
Lord Edmund stared at McNamara for a moment, but he eventually nodded his head. “All right, then. If you are serious about wanting to help, from what I have heard tell of how you can use that sword of yours, we might just stand a chance. Reynard’s ships are still in harbor, with final preparations being made for the voyage to Bristol tomorrow morning. If you can keep me alive long enough to warn Governor Lawes, and if we can move quickly enough, he can stop Reynard from setting sail - or if he does not have sufficient time or force to blockade the harbor, perhaps he can at least chase him down and offer battle, maybe weaken the pirate armada. Maybe the Predator itself can be destroyed. The plan falls apart if Reynard dies.”
“Would he really try to kill you? He still needs you, doesn’t he?”
“Not anymore,” Alleyn said with a morbid sigh. “All arrangements have been made, and I am expected to return to England with Reynard on the Predator. It would not interfere with his plan at this point were I to be killed. Besides, nobody betrays Reynard and lives unless he keeps them alive to toy with them. Perhaps I deserve it, for the part I have played in this madness, but I do not want to die before I have had a chance to prevent this horror. Please, Mr. McNamara, I do not have anyone else I can trust to help me. Can I count on you?”
McNamara nodded, tensing at the sudden weight he now felt on his shoulders. He and Lord Edmund were all that stood between Captain Reynard’s forces and a complete and total massacre of the people at Bristol. Thousands of lives would be lost if they failed, and who knew how many Reynard and his newly-formed pirate armada would kill afterwards? How many towns and cities would meet the same fate as Ciudad d’Esperanza that now threatened Bristol? Not to mention the resulting political upheavals and the numerous factions and powers that could provoke further conflict and bloodshed.
Then a horrible thought seized McNamara. Lord Edmund has said Catalina did not know of Reynard’s plans. Has she left her mansion already and gone to meet Reynard? If a fight broke out while she was on board the Predator, she could be killed. Or what if she tries to escape and Reynard kills her for it? One horrific possibility after another flashed through McNamara’s brain, all of them ending in Catalina dying.
“We have to warn Catalina first,” McNamara said.
Lord Edmund stared at McNamara incredulously. “I beg your pardon?”
“We have to warn her of Reynard’s true intentions and keep her away from him!” McNamara insisted. “I don’t want to chance her being on the Predator if the navy sends the ship to the depths after we warn Lawes. She’s not part of Reynard’s scheme, and she has to be kept out of harm’s way!”
“We do not have time for that!” Lord Edmund insisted, his frantic terror of Reynard’s hidden spies the only thing forcing him to keep his voice low. “Warning the governor must be our first priority! Are you really willing to sacrifice thousands of lives to save one?”
“I don’t intend to sacrifice anyone,” McNamara countered. “Including her. If we act quickly, we can warn her and thwart Captain Reynard.”
“Too great of a risk,” Lord Edmund replied. “It would be simpler to just go straight to Lawes.”
“I’m not going to abandon someone just because it will make things easier for us. And let’s not forget, my lord, that you’re just as responsible for her predicament as the captain! None of this would have been necessary if you hadn’t played a willing part in all this madness, and I hold you just as responsible as Reynard for the predicament she is in!”
“All right, I take your point. But can we warn her afterwards?”
“There may not be time,” McNamara replied. “We can’t risk that she might go to Reynard while we’re on our way to Spanish Town, or that he might come to collect her this evening.”
Lord Edmund fumed for a moment, and then nodded his head. “Fine. But we must be quick about it. Do you know where she lives?”
“I’ve been to her house in Liguanea.”
“Not too far off, then. We will have to grab the girl and make our way to Spanish Town as soon as we can. We can acquire horses from the stables.”
Pausing only to toss some coins to pay for his drinks onto the table, McNamara followed Lord Edmund out of the tavern as inconspicuously as possible, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself with a hasty exit.
As soon as they were outside, they dashed to the stables and nearly collided with the portly figure of Sergeant Gilbert. Gilbert’s hand went to his pistol, spluttering angrily all the while, until he recognized Lord Edmund.
“Good God, sir, you nearly scared the very life out of me!” Lord Edmund gasped, startled by the sudden encounter.
“Begging your pardon, Your Lordship,” Sergeant Gilbert replied with a salute. He then grinned as he saw McNamara. “Good to see you, Michael! Where are you two off to in such a hurry?”
“There’s an emergency, Sergeant,” McNamara said quickly.
Gilbert’s jovial expression vanished in an instant. “What kind of emergency?” he asked urgently.
“There’s no time to explain,” McNamara replied quickly. “But we could use your help. We can explain on the way.”
Lord Edmund eyed the marine suspiciously. “Michael, are you sure this man can be trusted?”
“Sergeant Donald Gilbert and I are friends,” McNamara explained. “Quickly! We haven’t a moment to lose!”
As Gilbert loosed and bridled horses for them, the stableboy ran towards them, shouting angrily. Gilbert brusquely told the boy he was commandeering the horses in the name of the king and gave him a few coins to give to the horses’ owners. He also warned him to keep his mouth shut.
“So where are we riding to?” Gilbert said as he clumsily climbed into the saddle.
“Liguanea,” McNamara replied in a low voice. “As fast as we possibly can.”
* * *
While Lord Edmund had been telling McNamara of Reynard’s true intentions, neither of them had noticed the three rough-looking men who entered the tavern shortly after Lord Edmund had. They had taken a table not too far from them, close enough to hear some of their conversation, if not word for word.
No sooner had Lord Edmund and McNamara left when one of them turned to his companions. “The captain was right about Lord Edmund. Either of you hear where they were headed off to?”
“I couldn’t,” one of his companions, a burly man with a shaved head and rough red beard replied.
“Nor could I,” said the third man. “Their voices was too low.”
“We’ll need to find out. In the meantime, Dowell, go get word to Captain Reynard and tell him he’s met with McNamara. We’ll follow them and get in touch with the others. We’ll correspond by carrier pigeon.”
“Right,” Dowell, the man with the red beard, said as he raced out the door.
* * *
At Reynard’s lighthouse fortress, Captain Reynard, Sabatini, and the Predator’s senior officers were enjoying a few bottles of excellent French wine over a game of twenty-one, a small celebration before sailing the next morning. Not surprisingly, the captain had won most of the hands. Whether in chess, cards, or battle strategy, the captain was always a formidable and unpredictable opponent.
Andrew Sills groaned as Captain Reynard’s pair of queens beat his own ten and nine. “With all due respect, Captain,” he muttered as Reynard scooped up his winnings, “When I get my share of the plunder for this job, I’m finding someone else to play cards with so that I can actually win for once.”
The rest of the table broke out laughing, including Reynard.
“Perhaps you should get an early night’s sleep tonight, Captain,” Sabatini jibed. “After all, tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”
“You’re just saying that because I’m winning again,” Reynard replied as he passed the deck to Reverte, his mouth twisting into a crooked smile. He poured himself another glass of wine, lifted it in a toast to himself, and then drank it down, smacking his lips with satisfaction. “Besides, do you honestly expect me to sleep on the eve of the greatest caper in our careers, let alone the whole bloody history of piracy?”
“Let the captain stay in the game if he wants,” Reverte chuckled, picking up the cards and giving them a quick shuffle before starting to deal. “Maybe he’ll finally run out of luck and we’ll win our money back.”
“It’s that kind of thinking that always ensures Captain Reynard’s victories,” Tynan said derisively, grimacing as he looked at his cards, an eight and a four. “Everyone always keeps assuming his luck’ll run out, and it never does. I’ll take another.” He swore harshly as he was dealt a king, putting him over twenty-one.
“Let’s watch our words about the captain’s luck,” Sills warned. “We don’t want to tempt fate. I’ll stand.”
“Our words won’t make a difference, Andrew,” Tynan replied. “There are some men that Fortune will always smile on, and the captain is one of them, no matter what anyone tries to do about it.”
“My thanks for your kind words, Mr. Tynan,” Reynard said. “But your usual flattery won’t make me take it easier on you. Come on, mates, let’s keep the play going so I can...”
The door burst open and Dowell stumbled into the room, panting heavily, several of Reynard’s guards behind him.
“Sorry to disturb you, Captain, but there’s a problem,” one of the guards announced. Dowell wheezed as he panted for breath, wiping the sweat from his fleshy face.
Reynard straightened instantly, and his languid expression became sharp and alert. “What happened?”
“It’s Lord Edmund, Captain. We followed him as you said, and you were right. He’s spilled his guts.”
The captain said nothing, but the sudden cold expression on his face had everyone else in the room worried. Reynard had recognized the small likelihood that Lord Edmund Alleyn might reveal his true intentions to someone, but he had not seriously believed His Lordship would actually do it. He was rarely wrong, and he didn’t like it when he was. “Who did he tell?” he asked in a quiet but menacing voice.
“That’s the part you’re not going to like, Captain,” Doyle said anxiously. “He happened upon Michael McNamara at the Admiral Cordingly, and he told him everything. Then they left the tavern together in a hurry.”
Reynard’s dark eyes were now smoldering with rage as he advanced on the pirate. “Where did they go?” he hissed.
“I don’t know, Captain! Their voices were low, and I didn’t stay long enough to...”
Before Dowell could finish, Reynard had drawn his schiavona, emitting a feral snarl as he did so. With a single, brutal slash, Reynard’s sword sheared through Dowell’s throat. Dowell let out a choking gasp as he clutched at his neck, blood seeping through his fingers. He was already dead as he sank to the floor.
Reynard stood over Dowell’s corpse, panting heavily like a wild animal about to charge. Burning anger radiated from his eyes as his face contorted into a vicious, bestial scowl. The other pirates watched wordlessly, nervous apprehension on all their faces. It was rare that they saw Captain Reynard give in to anger, but every time he did, it was a terrifying thing to behold. It always cost at least one man his life. Even his officers had been unnerved by the murder they’d just witnessed. After all, any one of them could be next if Reynard’s temper was not yet spent.
Another man burst into the room, stopping in horror at the sight of Dowell’s dead body and Reynard’s malevolent glare. Aware that his life was hanging in the balance, the pirate held out a small piece of paper. “We just received this message from one of our agents in town, Captain,” he said quickly.
Reynard snatched the message and read it, his eyes still blazing with anger. When he’d finished, he crushed the note in his hand. “Sabatini!” he roared.
Sabatini swallowed nervously as he stood straight. “Yes, Captain?”
“Gather some men and horses!” he snapped. “Ride to Liguanea!”
“Liguanea, Captain?” Reverte asked.
“The message says McNamara and Lord Edmund were seen heading north. There’s nothing of interest to either of them that way except Liguanea.”
“But why would he be riding there instead of directly to Governor Lawes?” Noiret asked, regretting the question as soon as it was asked.
Instead, to the doctor’s relief, Reynard smiled, his anger giving way to his usual sly, self-assured demeanor. “He wants to warn Catalina first.”
“Catalina?” Sabatini asked. “What’s Catalina to him?”
“An innocent in need of protection,” Reynard replied. “Get a move on, Nick. We can’t stop Lord Edmund and McNamara from reaching Catalina, but if you hurry, you can at least make sure they don’t leave. Take a dozen men with you and have each of them bring me back a piece of him. And you, Nick... you bring me his heart.”
Sabatini smiled cruelly. “Yes, Captain. That will be a genuine pleasure.”