Chapter 15 — Pirates at Dawn
Four days later, Alexander kept his promise.
They left the estate before sunrise.
Their destination was a coastal town where one of Alexander's contacts had arranged a meeting with a merchant who might know more about the people searching for Amara and Lela.
Alexander took six armed men.
Amara considered this excessive.
Alexander considered Amara's opinion irrelevant.
“You brought an army,” she said as they rode.
“Six men are not an army.”
“For a simple journey?”
“There has been nothing simple about you since the day you arrived.”
Amara smiled. “You could have stayed home.”
“And allow you near a port without supervision?”
“I survived perfectly well before meeting you.”
“You were kidnapped.”
“That was unnecessary.”
“It was also accurate.”
She urged her horse ahead.
Alexander watched her go and smiled.
She was riding the gray mare this time.
He had learned from experience not to mention that she had taken his advice.
They reached the coast late that afternoon and spent the night at a small inn.
Their meeting was scheduled for the following morning in a larger harbor several miles north.
Alexander wanted to travel by road.
The merchant sent a boat instead.
“It will save three hours,” the captain explained. “The coastal road is damaged farther north.”
Alexander studied the vessel.
It was a sturdy sailing boat with a crew of five.
Amara stepped aboard immediately.
Alexander caught up.
“You might occasionally wait for me to decide whether something is safe.”
“You would eventually decide yes.”
“That is not the point.”
“It usually is.”
They sailed shortly after dawn.
The sea was calm, the sky pale with early light.
Amara stood near the rail.
Alexander joined her.
“Thinking about home?”
“Yes.”
“Closer?”
She looked toward the horizon.
“It feels closer.”
Alexander understood.
If today's meeting went well, they might finally establish direct contact with one of her father's agents.
He should have felt only satisfaction.
Instead, another thought had begun troubling him.
Every successful step toward finding her family was a step toward losing her.
He disliked himself for thinking that way.
Amara deserved to go home.
Nothing else mattered.
A sailor suddenly shouted from behind them.
Alexander turned.
A vessel had appeared around a rocky point.
Small.
Fast.
Coming directly toward them.
The captain swore.
“What is it?” Amara asked.
Alexander watched the approaching ship.
Men crowded its deck.
Too many men.
And several carried weapons.
“Below.”
Amara looked at him.
“Now.”
She saw his expression and did not argue.
That worried him more than if she had.
The captain shouted orders.
Sails shifted.
Their vessel turned away from shore.
The other ship followed.
“They're gaining,” one sailor yelled.
Alexander drew his pistol.
His men prepared muskets.
Amara had reached the hatch when the first shot cracked across the water.
Wood splintered from the rail.
She ducked.
“Alexander!”
“Below!”
This time she obeyed.
For approximately thirty seconds.
Then she came back.
Alexander stared at her.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping.”
“You can help by staying below.”
“I tried. I disliked it.”
Another shot struck the mast.
Alexander grabbed her shoulder instinctively, then immediately released it, remembering his promise.
“Amara, these men are armed.”
“So are you.”
“I am a soldier.”
“And I am not interested in being captured twice.”
That stopped him.
He saw genuine fear beneath her defiance.
“Stay behind me.”
“I can accept that.”
It was probably the closest thing to obedience he would receive.
The attacking vessel came alongside.
Hooks flew across the gap.
One caught the rail.
A sailor tried to cut the rope.
A gunshot dropped him.
Everything happened at once.
Alexander's men fired.
Smoke filled the deck.
Armed attackers began pulling the vessels together.
“Pirates!” someone shouted.
Amara did not need the explanation.
She saw men preparing to board.
For one horrible moment she was back on another ship.
Locked below deck.
Rourke.
Briggs.
The sale.
No.
Not again.
Never again.
One attacker climbed over the rail.
Alexander struck him before he could stand.
Another followed.
Then another.
The deck became chaos.
Amara backed toward the mast.
A man rushed toward her.
She grabbed the first object within reach—a wooden belaying pin—and swung.
It struck his arm.
He cursed.
Amara swung again.
This time she hit his face.
He fell.
She stared at him.
“I warned everyone I was difficult.”
There was no time to celebrate.
Another attacker appeared behind Alexander.
Amara saw him raise a knife.
“Alexander!”
Alexander turned too late.
Amara threw the wooden pin.
It struck the attacker near the temple, spoiling his attack long enough for Alexander to disarm him.
Alexander looked at her.
“You threw that at his head.”
“I was aiming for his head.”
“Remind me never to make you angry.”
“You are already too late.”
A shot exploded nearby.
Alexander pulled her down.
This time she did not object.
The fighting lasted only minutes.
It felt much longer.
Alexander's escort was better trained than the pirates expected, and the attackers had apparently assumed they were targeting an ordinary merchant vessel.
Two pirates were captured.
The rest retreated.
Their ship separated and turned toward open water.
Alexander fired once after them but missed.
Then there was silence except for groaning men, snapping canvas, and the sea against the hull.
Amara remained crouched beside the rail.
Alexander looked at her.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
He checked anyway.
There was blood on her sleeve.
Alexander's face changed.
“That's not mine.”
“Whose?”
“I don't know.”
He took her hands.
They were trembling.
Amara looked down at them almost angrily.
“Stop.”
“They're allowed to shake.”
“I don't want them to.”
“That has never been how fear works.”
She looked at him.
“You're bleeding.”
Alexander touched his forehead.
A shallow cut ran above his eyebrow.
“That is nothing.”
“You're always saying that.”
“Because usually it is.”
Amara pulled a clean cloth from her bag.
“Sit.”
Alexander raised an eyebrow.
“Was that an order?”
“Yes.”
He sat.
She pressed the cloth against the cut.
Alexander winced.
“Gently.”
“I am being gentle.”
“You have a strange understanding of the word.”
“You were fighting pirates five minutes ago.”
“They were gentler.”
Amara laughed unexpectedly.
The laugh became something dangerously close to tears.
Alexander saw it.
Without thinking, he took her hand.
This time she did not pull away.
One of the captured attackers was brought forward.
Alexander stood.
“Who sent you?”
The man spat blood onto the deck.
“Nobody.”
“You attacked us for no reason?”
“We take what we can.”
Alexander did not believe him.
The pirate looked toward Amara.
Only briefly.
But Alexander noticed.
“So you knew who was aboard.”
The man's expression changed.
Amara stepped closer.
“Who told you?”
Nothing.
Alexander repeated the question.
The prisoner remained silent.
Amara studied him.
Then she noticed a mark on his forearm.
A small tattoo.
Her stomach tightened.
She had seen the same symbol before.
On one of Rourke's men.
“Alexander.”
He turned.
She pointed.
“That mark.”
“What about it?”
“I've seen it before.”
“Where?”
“On the ship that brought us across the ocean.”
Alexander looked back at the prisoner.
The attack had not been random.
“Rourke?” he asked.
The man's eyes shifted.
That was enough.
Amara went cold.
“He knows.”
“Knows what?”
“That someone is looking for me.”
Alexander understood immediately.
If Rourke had learned about the enormous reward and the agents searching the ports, he might also have realized exactly how valuable—or dangerous—Amara had become.
Alexander turned to his men.
“Guard both prisoners. Nobody speaks to them alone.”
Then he looked at Amara.
“We're turning back.”
“No.”
He stared at her.
“We've just been attacked.”
“And whoever sent them wanted to stop us reaching that harbor.”
“Which is exactly why—”
“Which is exactly why we continue.”
Alexander's jaw tightened.
“Amara.”
“My father's representative may be there.”
“You could be killed.”
“So could you.”
“I am responsible for protecting you.”
“No. You are helping me. There is a difference.”
They faced each other.
The crew quietly found other things to look at.
Alexander hated her argument.
Mostly because he knew she was right.
If the attack was connected to Rourke, turning back gave him exactly what he wanted.
Alexander looked toward the damaged sail.
“Captain, can we continue?”
The captain examined the rigging.
“Yes. Slower, but yes.”
Alexander looked at Amara.
She raised an eyebrow.
He sighed.
“We continue.”
Her expression brightened.
“Do not look pleased.”
“I said nothing.”
“Your face is celebrating.”
Amara smiled.
She had used his own words against him.
Again.
The harbor appeared two hours later.
Amara stood at the bow as buildings slowly became visible.
Alexander remained beside her.
Neither mentioned how close they had come to disaster.
Neither mentioned the moment she had screamed his name when the knife appeared behind him.
Neither mentioned that after the fighting stopped, she had allowed him to hold her hand.
But both remembered.
“You saved my life,” Alexander said.
Amara looked at him.
“You saved mine first.”
“Then we're even.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you also brought me back after my escape.”
“That was for your own protection.”
“I still count it against you.”
Alexander laughed.
“Of course you do.”
Amara looked toward the approaching harbor.
“Alexander?”
“Yes?”
“If those men were connected to Rourke, he may come after us again.”
“I know.”
“Are you frightened?”
“Yes.”
She seemed surprised.
“You admitted it.”
“Being frightened and running away are different things.”
Amara smiled faintly.
“My father says something similar.”
Alexander looked at her.
“One day I would very much like to meet this mysterious father.”
Her smile changed.
“If everything goes well, you may.”
The words affected him more than they should have.
Ahead of them, the harbor grew larger.
Somewhere among those buildings might be the person who could finally carry Amara's message home.
Behind them, somewhere beyond the horizon, Rourke now knew she was alive.
And for the first time, Alexander understood that finding Amara's family was no longer their only problem.
They had to reach them before Rourke reached Amara again.