Chapter 33
Marsh had interrogated The Excalibur’s crew two at a time, quizzing them on Ordes’ whereabouts. As each pair was returned to the hold, Arthur breathed a sigh of relief to see they were unhurt. At least, he thought grimly, Marsh hasn’t tortured anyone. Yet.
Then it was his turn, but unlike the others, he was taken out alone. Katarin shouted at Marsh’s men as Arthur was dragged to his feet, but he shook his head at her. One side of his sister’s face was covered in bruises. He didn’t want to see her hurt again, not for him.
Marsh waited in the captain’s cabin, sitting behind Katarin’s desk. He watched Arthur the way a predator might watch his prey. Arthur was shoved into the chair opposite the captain. A pistol was drawn, the muzzle kissing Arthur’s temple.
He swallowed.
‘The boy who would be king,’ Marsh mused.
Arthur said nothing. He could feel the Sword of the White Dragon, could see the hilt poking over the lip of the desk.
‘Ahh,’ Marsh said. ‘You want your toy back. It’s pretty, I’ll give it that. A little heavy for my liking but she’s a grand weapon. Where did you get it?’
Arthur licked dry lips. Mordred hadn’t told Marsh about the Treasures; that, or the sword had not been whispering to Marsh. ‘I won it,’ Arthur lied. ‘At cards.’
The pirate laughed. ‘Bullshit. I bet you’ve never played cards in your life.
See, I know who you are, Arthur Tregarthen, and I know where you come from.
I know that lunatic in the hold is your father, the great Ulrian Tregarthen, Chif of Kernou.
There isn’t much we don’t hear out on the water.
’ He tapped his fingers thoughtfully against the side of his glass. ‘I bet you’re thirsty. Here.’
Marsh slid the glass towards Arthur, then sat back, waiting.
Arthur smiled. ‘If you know who I am and where I have come from, you’ll know that a few days without water is nothing.
The One God likes us to suffer, Marsh, and I’ve suffered.
I’ve been starved and beaten. I’ve watched men be tortured, and watched women drown and burn.
I fled my home in fear of life and somehow found myself caught up in all of this.
’ He paused, watching the captain’s reaction carefully.
‘That sword is mine and I will get it back.’
Marsh stared at him, before throwing back his head and laughing. He took back his glass and drained it, then poured another, sliding it back to Arthur. ‘No tricks. You earned that, boy.’
Arthur took the glass with a nod but did not drink.
‘You’re not afraid of me?’ Marsh asked.
‘Oh, I’m terrified,’ Arthur said. ‘But not for myself. I’m more worried about what you’re going to do to the men and women onboard this ship if you don’t get what you want.’
‘Then how about you give me what I want, and nobody has to get hurt,’ the pirate said.
‘Why does my cousin want Ordes and not me?’ Arthur asked. He didn’t expect an answer and wasn’t surprised when Marsh shrugged.
‘Something to do with his father – I don’t really care. Thing is, Arthur, I’m a man of my word, and I gave Mordred my word. For whatever reason, he wants Ordes, so it’s Ordes I’m going to bring him, once someone tells me where he’s hiding,’ Marsh said.
‘As much as I would like to help you,’ Arthur said. ‘I can’t. I don’t know where he is. None on this ship would know, so you’ve wasted your time.’
Marsh sighed. ‘Boy, I’ve been playing this game since before you were even a sparkle in your dear daddy’s eye.
Sooner or later, someone is going to tell me what I need to know, and by someone, I mean you or your snarky sister.
Everyone else on board are just the crew – they’re not likely to know where Ordes and his syhren bitch are.
But you… you’re kind of important. Or so I’ve been led to believe.
’ He nodded at Arthur’s glass. ‘You haven’t touched your rum. ’
‘I’m not thirsty.’
A smile. ‘You’ve got a set of brass ones, boy-king. I’ll make you a deal—’
‘Let me make you one. Take me back to Mordred instead,’ Arthur cut in. ‘It’s me he truly wants.’
‘Maybe, but I’ve got no quarrel with you,’ Marsh said. ‘Ordes, on the other hand… we’ve got history, see. Scores to settle, that sort of thing.’
Arthur looked Marsh in the eye. ‘Then I’ve got nothing to tell you.’
It was dark when Arthur was grabbed by the back of the shirt and roughly hauled upright.
The Excalibur’s crew were unchained and led, stumbling and at gunpoint, onto the deck.
The sun crested the horizon and bathed the world in golden fire.
They’d been in the hold for two days – two days of darkness, of no food or water.
Two days wondering whether everything was about to end.
As soon as she was above deck, Katarin flung her head back, headbutting the man who held her.
Her action was a signal, and the imprisoned crew broke free of their captors and fought with fists and bare feet.
Marsh’s men did not fire on them like Arthur expected they would, but fought back, smiling as they did so.
Arthur saw Halymere put a man on his back, before the big Cruithean was hit across the back of the head and dropped to his knees.
Marsh stood on the quarterdeck, watching it all unfold.
He smiled, his fingers stroking the hilt of the Sword of the White Dragon.
Suddenly, Arthur understood. Marsh was a brute who breathed violence, but the sword’s magic would be working on him, adding fuel to an already blazing fire, feeding the darkness in him with visions of blood and power.
This was what the sword wanted. It wanted the deck painted red.
It wanted slain bodies and death – it didn’t care who died, only that people did.
Even now, strapped to Marsh’s hip, Arthur could hear the Treasure’s whispers, the seething anger and the glee that flowed through it as the crew clashed with Marsh’s men.
‘Stop,’ Arthur called out. ‘Kat, stop!’
His sister ignored him. She was bleeding from the nose but fought on. He pushed his way to her side, gasping as a fist collided with his stomach, before grabbing hold of Katarin’s arm.
‘It wants this,’ he managed, wheezing. ‘The sword. We need to stop the fighting.’
Her eyes widened, but she nodded and pulled free of him, shoving a man out of the way as she tried to get to Halymere.
An earth-shaking roar suddenly split the air, and the world was filled with the beating of wings as the White Dragon burst from the clouds.
Marsh’s men cried out, and for a moment, even the captain looked afraid.
Arthur kept his eyes on the magical beast – his magical beast. The dragon was bound to him, Merlin had said.
It obeyed his will. Arthur chewed his lip as the shadow of the dragon passed across the deck.
There was nothing the dragon could do to help them, not unless he wanted The Excalibur and everyone aboard turned to ash on the water, but…
The Black Rose drifted nearby, not close enough that, if she burnt, she’d take the rest of them down with her.
He swallowed and focused all his attention on the dragon. He hadn’t done this yet, thinking he had time to work it out, but now, he was about to find out if Merlin had been right.
Burn it, he thought. The other ship. Burn it.
Something warm and scaled brushed against his mind, like a cat curling around his ankles. The dragon roared again and dropped from the sky like a stone. For a terrifying moment, it seemed the beast would land on the deck, but at the last second, he changed course and aimed for The Black Rose.
Katarin laughed as the dragon opened its mouth and drenched Marsh’s ship in flames.
Kegs of gunpowder and crates of chain-shot exploded, sending a tower of fire into the sky.
Arthur closed his ears to the screams of the men left aboard as the smoke from the burning ship carried across the water and wrapped around The Excalibur.
With burning eyes, he watched the White Dragon circle the wreckage once, twice, then fly away. It would not go far.
The destruction of Marsh’s ship galvanised The Excalibur’s crew and the fighting became fiercer than ever. Arthur winced as Kayrus took a fist to the jaw.
His heart lurched – in the chaos and the billowing smoke, he’d lost sight of Ulrian.
‘Father!’ he shouted, pushing his way between a sea of writhing bodies. A fist glanced off the side of his head, his ears ringing. He shoved the man away with strength he didn’t recognise.
Ulrian had managed to climb onto the railing.
‘No!’ Arthur surged forward, his throat filling with smoke.
Ulrian turned and met Arthur’s eyes. His lips curled into a smile, one that Arthur had not seen in a long time. Not a cruel or vicious smirk, but the sort of smile Arthur had longed to see his father give him since he was a small child.
Ulrian clasped his hand before him, as if he was praying. Then, he closed his eyes and tumbled into the arms of the ocean.
Arthur reached the railing, frantically peering over the edge. There was no sign of his father. Nothing but a churning sea.
He screamed his father’s name until an arm hooked around his neck and hauled him backwards, flinging him to the deck. He was dragged away and tossed in a heap next to Katarin.
‘Are you alright?’ she managed. Her nose was still bleeding, joined by a cut above her eyebrow. Arthur nodded, unable to find the words to explain. ‘It’ll be alright,’ she said. Arthur nodded again, although he didn’t feel that anything would ever be alright again.
The fight was over. The crew were forced to their knees and their hands bound tightly behind their backs. The Witchfinders continued to work their tricks on those Magic Wielder’s on the ship. Arthur could see the strain of it on Katarin’s face.
‘Who owns that fucking dragon?’ Marsh demanded, striding down from the quarterdeck, Arthur’s sword strapped to his hip. When no one responded, the captain came to kneel in front of Katarin. ‘Is it yours, Le Fey? A present from your mistress?’
Katarin gave him a sweet smile. ‘Go fuck yourself, Marsh.’
Marsh chuckled, withdrawing his pistol. ‘Since your pet destroyed my ship, it looks like I’ll be keeping this one. But I don’t need such a large crew, so, back to our other problem. Where is—’
Katarin spat in his face.
For a moment, nothing happened, like time was a web suspended between The Excalibur’s sails.
Marsh laughed, wiping his face on the back of his sleeve before he struck Katarin across the jaw so hard she tumbled sideways.
Arthur cried out, struggling against the ropes binding his wrists.
Before he could crawl to his sister, Marsh gripped his chin and forced his face up.
‘You intrigue me,’ the pirate murmured. ‘Have you got some sort of magic of your own, boy, to be able to convince all these men and women to follow you?’
‘No magic,’ Arthur managed. ‘We don’t know where Ordes is. I didn’t lie to you.’ He paused, sucked in a breath. The strongest lies were the ones mingled with truth. ‘Ordes left.’
Marsh smiled. ‘That doesn’t sound like the Ordes I know.
He’s too honourable to leave his friends sitting alone on such a vast ocean, waiting to be plucked up by someone like me.
’ He released Arthur’s jaw and stood, lifting his voice to address the deck, fingers teasing the hilt of the sword.
‘What we’re going to do is this. For every person who tells me they don’t know where Ordes is, one of you will die. ’
Katarin had managed to lift herself to her knees. ‘Marsh—’
‘You want to be first, Le Fey?’ the pirate asked.
‘I’d say you wouldn’t suffer, but then I’d be lying.
’ Casually, Marsh strolled along the line of his prisoners, stopping at Erin, one of the women from The Night Queen.
‘This one would be yours, wouldn’t she?’ he asked Kat.
‘I’ll ask again, Le Fey – where is Ordes? ’
‘I don’t know,’ Katarin shouted. A sob escaped her as she watched Erin struggling fiercely. One of Marsh’s men wound his fingers through Erin’s hair, holding her steady.
Marsh calmly shot her in the head.
Before her body had even hit the deck, he’d moved onto the next person in the line, the sound of gunfire echoing around the deck.
‘You fucking bastard!’ Katarin shouted, but Marsh ignored her, turning his gun on one of the men from The Excalibur. ‘We don’t know where he is!’ Kat screamed. Marsh shook his head in mock sadness, pressed the barrel of his pistol against the man’s head, and fired.
‘Please,’ Arthur yelled. ‘We’re telling the truth.’
Another shot, and another body hit the deck.
Arthur swallowed his stomach as blood seeped from the man’s head, spreading like a horrible wine stain across the timber.
It glistened in the sunlight, in some sick parody of beauty.
Gagging, he met his sister’s eyes. Kat’s face was stricken, caught somewhere between grief and utter rage.
Marsh stopped in front of Carbrey. Kat screamed at the pirate, but it didn’t matter.
Arthur still jolted violently when Marsh fired.
Carbrey fell in slow motion, the old man’s sun-weathered face blank, eyes staring at a cloudless sky.
Arthur swallowed, trying not to cry, not to show weakness in front of Marsh and his crew, but he couldn’t hold back the tears.
Through blurred vision, he watched Marsh stop in front of Kayrus.
Marsh tipped his head to the side, a cruel smile pulling at his lips. ‘This one used to be mine, did you know, Le Fey? Kayrus here sailed with me for a time.’
‘Don’t you dare,’ Kat seethed.
Marsh chuckled. ‘Want your old job back?’ he asked Kayrus.
The helmsman said nothing, but the look he gave Marsh should have seared the flesh from the captain’s bones. Marsh laughed and pulled back the hammer on his pistol.
A deep rumbling echoed around them. Storm clouds swooped across the sky.
Forks of lightning danced among them, and wind tore at The Excalibur’s sails.
The ship rocked violently as a storm landed on the deck.
When it cleared, Marsh stepped back, gave a delighted laugh and spread his arms wide in welcome.
‘And here he is.’