him below to the brig, of course,” Red Robert said. Those icy blue eyes met Logan’s across the deck. “He is an honorable man. He will go without skirmish, as he has sworn, I am certain.”
“And if I were not a gentleman? If I were to protest now?” Logan inquired.
“You drew first blood, but I’m quite certain you realize I do not exaggerate my ability at swordsmanship,” Red Robert said tightly. “I am equally adept with a cat-o’-nine-tails. But that’s really no matter, is it? You gave your word. And you are a man of honor.”
The pirate captain turned to enter the cabin.
“Wait!” Logan demanded.
Red Robert turned back.
“I would request a moment with my first mate. To give instructions.”
“As you wish.”
“You’re not afraid it’s a trick?” he could not help but ask.
“Why would I be afraid? I repeat, you have assured me that you are a man of your word.”
Red Robert stepped through the cabin door.
Logan stood tall and straight, watching the door close. He felt as if he were trembling inside, but he could not—would not—let it show. He had achieved his aim; his men would live. They would sail on to South Carolina.
“My lad, my fine lord,” Jamie said, and it sounded as if he were choking. He did not stand on ceremony. He gripped Logan’s shoulders tightly, staring into his eyes with misery.
“Jamie, my good fellow. I’m quite all right. You will sail on with the others and see to my release. I believe our patrons will be glad half their treasure has survived, and you must ensure that we receive the promised cut. Forty percent. Don’t take less.”
“Aye, captain.”
Logan saw that Brendan was leading a ten-man crew across to his ship.
Even from this distance, he could tell that his own men were tight-lipped and stiff, barely moving.
“Help with the divide,” he called out, his voice strong. “We have made a deal, and it will be kept. Hinder no man of the pirate ship in his effort to take what is his.”
“Ye heard the captain!” Jamie roared.
“Go, my friend. See to it,” Logan told him.
Jamie nodded, deep sorrow in his eyes. The old salt actually looked as if he were about to cry.
“I have survived thus far,” Logan assured him softly. He forced a cocky smile. “I guarantee you, I shall continue to do so.”
“I will find a way to kill these blasted brigands,” Jamie swore. “I’ll not rest ’til I’ve met whatever ransom this pirate requires and seen you freed.”
“You are a good man, Jamie. We will meet again.”
“M’lord…”
“Tell Cassandra…” Logan began.
“Aye?”
“Tell her that I am deeply sorry. But that…that I pray—no, I demand!—that she choose whatever path now lies open to her for happiness.”
“Nay, my lord!”
“You will tell her so, Jamie. Swear it to me.”
“I cannot—”
“You can. You must. Swear it, Jamie.”
Jamie hung his head. “Aye, Logan. As you wish.”
“Go with God, Jamie.”
Jamie, a fierce and bitter look upon his face, glanced toward the captain’s cabin.
“I pray that God will be with you, for surely he has abandoned all other men here.”
“He helps those who help themselves, so it is said, and I am quite capable of helping myself, as you know, my friend.”
Jamie nodded tightly, then turned quickly and moved on.
Logan remained.
Feeling the breeze.
The sea…the air…the sweet cry of the wind. They all meant freedom to him. He had never realized just how much until this moment. Amazing how he had never before realized how much he had loved freedom.
But then…
It was a long time since he had been a prisoner.
That had been another lifetime. But he hadn’t forgotten.
After all, that memory was half the reason for the fool trip that had brought him to this fate.
“M’lord Captain?”
There was just a hint of mockery in the words.
Brendan stood at his side, watching him. The fellow neither smiled nor goaded him as he continued. “I’m afraid your presence is required. In the brig.”
Logan nodded.
The man carried shackles, he noticed.
“There is no need for those,” he said. “Merely show me the way.”
The man did so, first looking toward his captain’s cabin, then sweeping an arm toward the steps that led down to the hold.
With one last glance at the brilliant blue sky, Logan headed for the steps.
They seemed to lead to blackness, to an abyss.
But one no darker than his heart.
To take risks was one thing.
To lose all…
Quite another.
His men had lived. And he thanked God that in all his years, even through his bouts of rage-inspired madness, he had never forced others to perish on any quest of his making.
He had never meant to sell his soul.
But as he descended into the darkness, he wondered if he had lost it anyway.
CHAPTER TWO
THE SOUND WAS haunting, would always be haunting…
There were hoofbeats coming like thunder. A slow rumble at first, like a tremor pulsing beneath the earth. With the first vibration, it seemed as if the birds screamed, followed by the rushing of the wind. The sound of the hoofbeats grew louder, the quivering of the earth, deeper. Then, a mere heartbeat later, the pounding hooves came ripping through grass and dirt, striking sparks off rock, shaking the world.
By the time the horses raced into view, there was screaming everywhere. People were running, desperate.
The thunder was upon them. As loud as if a bolt of lightning had struck the ground and blasted a hole through the globe.
Then…
A sword, glittering in the sun.
The blood, a cascade of it, gushing, flying…turning the blue day to red.
And the bodies…
Red awoke gasping, stunned and frightened, but aware that someone was there, someone with strong hands, and a frantic and yet somehow reassuring whisper.
“Stop. Don’t scream.”
Red let out a shaky sigh, gulping for air, but remained silent.
“You haven’t had the nightmare in a long time.”
Red nodded.
“It was the fight,” Brendan said.
“I don’t know what it was,” Red said curtly.
“I do,” Brendan said. “It was the duel.”
Red