Chapter 29

L es Fléaux!” Amaury snarled above the shouts of The Pleiades’ crew.

“Fire,” breathed the woman who drew nearer him, eyes fixed on Orion’s Song.

Though his first thought was to aid the smaller ship surely under attack by Ravenser sea brigands, his next was not to further endanger Fira.

She shuddered. “Smoke comes this way just as…”

Knowing she recalled what befell her at the abbey, now he was the one telling her, “They are only memories. You are here with me.”

Her chin came up and wide eyes landed on his, but then she blinked and said, “They need your help.”

Just as he could not argue that, neither could he risk more ill befalling her. But then something of a solution struck—that the mere threat of The Pleiades adding its might to that of Orion’s Song could set the pirates to flight.

“Until I say otherwise, stay my side,” he said. With that, Fira became his second shadow as he moved about shouting orders to the crew, beginning with raising the anchor and hoisting a small sail to harness the bit of wind needed to close the distance between sister ships. Soon, the helmsman was maneuvering between two vessels whose scant crews stood at the railings watching the night attack.

Once more in command of a ship, Amaury felt the vast responsibility of ensuring his decisions fell on the side of life over death, and not only where Fira was concerned. He must bring the crew of Orion’s Song out of this with as few injuries and losses as possible. Hopefully, The Pleiades’ advance would scatter Gert’s men, but if more was needed, more would be given. And somehow he would keep his commitment to Fira.

“Aid me, Lord,” he rasped as the two of them sprang up the steps to the platform where the helmsman could see all sides of the ship and beyond. As Amaury surveyed Orion’s Song, danger to the crew made his blood course faster, but hope surged when the fire was extinguished and those who put it out ran to defend their fellow seamen.

Then greater hope when Fira cried, “The king’s forces come!”

Likely for Georges and Raoul delivering his missive to Sir Achard, Amaury thought as he looked to the standards flown by the contingent that had grown mightier as it journeyed north, and was now of such size the road bordering the docks could not accommodate all.

“Prayers answered, Amaury.”

With so little hesitation it felt as if the seven years stolen from him were far fewer, he said, “He did.”

As the warriors at the fore spurred toward Orion’s Song and some assailants began a desperate exodus, Amaury commanded The Pleiades to cease advancing. Soon the king’s man would have a cache of pirates to bring to justice who could point to others. Providing those of Amaury’s crew who began as sea brigands remembered they were now legitimate seafarers, all should be well.

The belly of the sail deflating as the canvas was lowered, The Pleiades slowed, then the anchor went in the water. Seconds later, the ship juddered, recoiled, and went fairly still one hundred feet from the smaller ship.

By order of the king’s man, foot soldiers boarded the pirate-infested vessel while mounted men-at-arms pursued those fleeing like rats deserting a sinking ship. The clash on the deck intensified, then the exceptionally trained warriors ended it. For how enraged Gert would be, her men would have to accept their greatest chance of survival was to cooperate with their captors.

“’Tis finished,” Fira said.

This part of it, Amaury did not say.

“For now,” she acceded, “since still you will pursue Les Fléaux.”

That being no question, he kept his gaze on the king’s men who separated the crew from the pirates. Though it was obvious most of the latter were dead or dying and might never tell tales, some who fled the ship only to be captured could be persuaded.

Amaury was relieved though a watch was set over the crew of Orion’s Song, they were treated well despite the missive to Roche disclosing his identity, the name of his company and ships, and his mission beyond transporting goods. He had wavered over revealing so much, but it was safer for all. Though the king’s man was aware Amaury’s privateering had made him an enemy of the English years ago, some forbearance might be shown for him professing he also sought to end Les Fléaux. And possibly for being descended from the D’Argents alongside the Wulfriths.

Now the warrior tasked with ending piracy along England’s northeastern coast turned from Captain Girarde and Pietro whom Amaury had sent to Orion’s Song and strode toward the bow with Fira’s youngest brother.

“He is ready to speak with you,” she said.

Amaury was ready as well, having ordered lanterns lit around the platform to illuminate the lady and the warrior whose hair and whiskers were prematurely silvered.

Roche halted, as did Rémy Wulfrith whose build was nearly as tall and broad, then the king’s man removed his helmet to reveal hair the gold of wheat and a face that appeared no more aged than Amaury’s. Looking across the water to the two standing before The Pleiades’ helmsman, he called, “You are well, Lady Fira?”

“Aye, with much gratitude to Amaury de Chanson.”

The tilt of his head and jerk of her brother’s figure evidenced both questioned that gratitude, but as if neither trusted Amaury to tolerate her statement being challenged, they did not. Then Roche called, “I thank you for sending men to search me out, De Chanson. Be assured that just as Georges and Raoul were received well, they remain well—though I think you must agree they have a whiff of the pirate about them.”

Amaury inclined his head. “No more than I, King Edward’s man.”

Did Roche nearly smile? “Fortunately, my contingent was still near for being overtaken by a messenger from Baron Wulfrith who told his lord was in Grimsby tracking his sister and would come my way for having captured a pirate in Boston who revealed the presence of Les Fléaux in Ravenser.” He turned sideways and gestured at the sea brigands now being offloaded. “No lie that.”

Amaury wondered over the baron’s presence in Grimsby but reasoned it out. Though Fira’s eldest brother would have departed before Amaury and his party arrived there, he could not yet have reached the contingent nor Ravenser for traveling overland. Thus, unless he and his men rode day into night, middle morn was the soonest they would appear this side of the estuary.

Before Amaury could respond, one of Roche’s men hastened forward and spoke in his ear.

Minutes passed, during which the king’s man mostly nodded, then he looked to Amaury. “Pirates who fled Orion’s Song have been questioned separately and most are in accord,” he called. “They serve a woman named Gert, as surely you know. Placed in Ravenser to gain intelligence about English shipping, a message was delivered this morn instructing them to watch for your ships to put in to repair damage from a Les Fléaux attack—and they should move against them only to prevent departure.”

Hence, more reason for them to fear Gert. One or more had persuaded the others to take Orion’s Song, doubtless believing they would be well rewarded. Should they fall into Gert’s hands, their lives would be much shortened. Though likely that would be their fate with King Edward as well, surely a less cruel end to them.

“Our common enemy will rage over this,” Amaury answered, “and rage can be exploited.”

Roche inclined his head. “As for where Gert is now, we can only guess. When the ship that sent a boat with her message departed, it sailed toward France and out of sight.”

The same as The Pleiades and Orion’s Song had done to thwart their pursuers .

“Though the captives’ leader was the least talkative, he asked that words be passed to you.”

Someone I knew during my pirating days? Amaury wondered. “I listen.”

“As you are due another keelhauling, which you will not survive for being cut through the organs down to the bones, the widow comes for you.”

Amaury welcomed Fira’s sharp breath that swept aside memories of what had been done him. “Such evil,” she said.

Though it was right for Gert to grieve the husband to whom she had been devoted, and her anger was understandable for being unable to believe her man did anything dire enough to result in death, all she had done and would do had to be the result of letting in evil.

“Here is how we proceed, De Chanson,” Roche called. “Put Lady Fira in a boat and send her to me so she may be given into her eldest brother’s care when he arrives, then four by four you and your crew will follow so we may discuss how well aligned we are in dealing with your countrymen who torment the English more than ever you did.”

“You can trust him, Amaury,” Fira said.

“Would I could be certain of that, but he has little cause to trust Le Fléau for whose capture your king promised much gold. Since in a manner I created Gert, responsibility for her and her followers is mine.”

She started to protest, but he spoke over her. “There is none better able to prevail against Les Fléaux than I who may wish to forget the pirate of me but cannot, even for you.”

She blinked. “Even for me? What does that mean?”

That last slipped out as if he had far less dark about him, and though what it told of his feelings for her surprised, not as much as it should.

Do not answer her! warned his inner voice. But he yielded to impulse and the beat of his heart, turning into her and catching up her hands. “It means for the lady who has made me feel again things I did not believe possible, I would forget the pirate of me if I could.”

Tears brightened her eyes.

Nothing more to be told of his feelings at this time, he said, “Now, as Roche requires and I concur, I will send you to him, and if the king’s man will not release Orion’s Song and its crew to me, I shall pursue Gert with The Pleiades alone.”

She startled. “One ship against three—perhaps more?”

“If she is still in these waters, it will be easier than in Scotland where she sails freely with the blessings of England’s enemy. And easier for me regardless of whether Gert and I finish our business sooner or much later.”

She considered that, said, “You fear ending up in the Tower of London awaiting an audience with my king that could stretch into months.”

“Or years, and that is supposing he will see me though expediency dictates he put me down like a lame horse.”

“Though he gives many cause to dislike him, far more nobles and commoners revere him, Amaury. Of further aid, I am certain my family will stand by you.”

He glanced at Roche who surely grew impatient. “Fira, you forget you speak of one who endangered a Wulfrith lady.”

“A man who saved she who recklessly placed herself in that situation and is the sire of a boy who longs for a father.” She nodded. “Despite their displeasure, they will come to your side.”

Though nowhere near as certain, he said, “For that I shall be grateful when I stand before King Edward, their support and having rid England of Les Fléaux increasing the chance of leniency. ”

Her sigh was heavy hearted. “That I shall pray for you. Now I suppose ’tis time to return the problem of me to my kin.”

He nearly objected to her naming herself that, but she was a problem, albeit the answer to it was far different from what once it would have been. “It is time,” he agreed.

And now the king’s man called, “Let us proceed!”

Only as far as getting Fira off The Pleiades, Amaury thought, then ordered a small boat lowered and chose a man to row her across.

Neither spoke again until the door on the railing was unhinged, the rope ladder let down, and her skirts knotted up.

Stepping near Amaury, Fira whispered, “Pray, a kiss.”

To remember me by? he wondered, then though her kin would not like it, drew her into his arms. The press of her breasts and hips against his chest and abdomen made him ache, while the kiss she returned with the passion of one desperate to burn it into memory made him long to live as he had not lived—with this lady at his side.

Possible only if you do what you came to do and tame the dark of you, his inner voice spoke again. Possible only if her brother is willing.

When her tongue touched his, he groaned, raised his head, and set her back. With the appearance of one reluctantly awakening, she opened her eyes. Then for his ears alone, she said, “I love you.”

Words not gifted him in a long time, and he had gifted none for nearly as long, the last occasion that of whispering them to his sleeping son and promising he would see him again come morn—never suspecting Gert would make a liar of him. Hence, just as he dare not promise the same to this lady, he dare not speak words of the heart, especially as these feelings were far different from what one felt for a son.

“Amaury.” She leaned in to better see his face .

“I thank you, Fira.”

“Thank me? That is all?”

“For a profession of love I cannot return.”

She frowned. “I know you feel for me, and though I hope ’tis more than desire, I understand if that is not possible.”

Realizing she feared her infirmity was a barrier, he said, “Fira, I do not?—”

“Thus, all I ask is that as you move forward with your plans for Les Fléaux, you not forget all your son will lose if you go left rather than right.”

Before he could think what to say, someone shouted, “Send my sister across, De Chanson!” Rémy Wulfrith was displeased. And fluent. Either anger was his ally against faltering speech or stammering came and went the same as Fira’s ailment.

Amaury moved to the opening in the railing. Peering down at the boat whose lantern revealed the sailor held it steady against the ship, he beckoned Fira forward.

She came, and all she said as she took his hand to aid in her descent was, “Think first on Mace.”

And Fira, he silently added, then she was working her way down at a speed that evidenced the Wulfrith of her. Though he longed to assure her the antidote to her pained heart was possible, he did not, certain if his endeavor failed, he would be counted less of a loss if she believed it was mostly desire he felt for her.

Shortly, she settled on the bench and the boat was untethered. When she raised a hand to him, he inclined his head. Then the oars were in the water, turning the boat toward Orion’s Song.

Minutes later, she was in her brother’s arms, next a quick embrace of Sir Achard. As the small boat began its return, there was much discussion between her and the two men. Certain she defended the one responsible for her being here and explained what remained of the marks of her ordeal, Amaury exercised patience.

When the three turned to him, he called, “Now the lady is safely in your care, Sir Achard and Squire Rémy, I ask you to release The Pleiades’ sister ship and its crew so together we can pursue my enemy and yours.”

Amaury could not know what Roche’s answer would have been for the sailor atop a mast shouting a warning to look east.

If not for moonlight, the large ship rounding the estuary’s northern end would have gone unseen a while longer for eschewing lanterns as often done when a captain did not wish to be seen in the night—of much risk, especially when approaching a port whose waters were thick with anchored and docked vessels.

Amaury’s first thought was Gert came to discover whether The Great Mercia Shipping Company’s ships had put into Ravenser. His next thought as a second unlit ship came into view was how wrathful she would be to learn those who kept watch on this town for her had gone against her orders. The last thought before he began issuing commands was she could be no more vulnerable than in her current state of ignorance over her men’s foolishness and being unaware the forces of the king’s men had arrived.

No time to await Roche’s answer, nor his and his men’s reaction once they understood the urgency of getting both the anchor and small boat out of the water, Amaury slipped back into the captain of years past who had the excuse of serving his country to justify what was done by him and those he commanded.

This was different, and not only for aiding England rather than France alongside his self-interest. This time his prey was not riches but those who sought to take the wealth of others and the lives of innocents. This time it was not the thrill of adventure and besting opponents that raced his spine but the expectation of avenging the years torn from him. He was thinking of his son as Fira had entreated, and of her as she had not. Still, the dark of his past threatened to blot out the light—to make him forget he had more for which to live than to die.

Though he acknowledged this as The Pleiades moved out of the harbor to meet Gert’s ships, that knowledge was mostly a fly buzzing about—albeit a persistent one.

As the second of the hoisted sails began catching air that would sooner see their own darkened ship reach the enemy, the dockside din accelerated so sharply that at the same moment the lookout shouted a warning, Amaury turned to discover what went there.

The Pleiades was now so distant it was not possible to clearly see those on Orion’s Song, but there was no mistaking the king’s contingent on the docks were under attack by men of greater number than Gert’s lurkers.

From the third ship that set upon mine at sea, Amaury guessed. After learning his vessels put in here, it would have been anchored out of sight north of the estuary, many of its crew plying oars to reach the cove opposite Ravenser’s harbor. Now, possibly for having no warning they would have to battle the king’s men, they crossed swords with those better versed in the use of a blade on land than on a deck.

Utter futility. Or so Amaury believed until over a dozen broke the ranks of Roche’s men and rushed the dock toward Orion’s Song. And Fira.

“Lord!” he rasped, and as he was yanked between the need to protect her and engaging Gert, the decision was made for him—first by Orion’s Song parting from the dock, next the lookout’s cry, “They close on us!” followed by his helmsman’s shout, “Orders, Captain!”

Since Roche must have commanded the crew to move the ship out of danger and he and Squire Rémy would keep Fira safe, Amaury turned his attention to Gert’s ships and shouted, “South, then east onto the narrow sea.” If they must make a stand this night, better there than the estuary that could see them cornered.

He looked back one last time, questioned why Orion’s Song continued to draw away from the dock, then to increase the chance of his men’s survival, became a captain in full.