by Mary Martin
When Rayne had first explained their mission, and that Malcolm Wells and his lecherous crew were in pursuit of Starlin's ship, the entire crew banded together to get the brigantine under way. It was difficult for him to keep his mind on the ship, for his every thought was on the woman he loved.
He cursed himself unmercifully for the countless hours he'd wasted, refusing so many times to say the words that could make her smile so beautifully.
"I love you, you violet-eyed temptress ... I love you more than life itself," he whispered to the sighing wind.
With the dawn, they entered the Triangle. Starlin had never been more frightened in her life. It didn't look the same as the area she had sailed so boldly through when she had left Antare. She had not been afraid, even when she'd felt alone, trailing far behind Rayne's ship, determined that she would find a way for their love to survive. Would it? Would she? This morning, she felt totally helpless and without hope. She heard Malcolm yelling at Benton to make certain they were sailing in the right direction. They were both standing near the helm, Benton directing the ship deeper into the lost sea.
"This is where itgets dangerous. There's jagged reefs, and shoals lie very close to the surface. Take her in slow," he cautioned.
"I expect that will be easy. There isn't a drop of wind," the bosun's mate said.
Benton's only reaction was a sharp laugh, a sound that chilled Starlin's blood. "Here you don't need any."
Absolute silence prevailed. The crewmen in the masts scrambled down from their perches, their faces expressing grave concern.
Only Malcolm Wells looked satisfied. His dream was about to be realized.
"Just up ahead you'll pass the first line of reefs. Tell your man to keep going until he sees me raise my hand. We want to sail on past to the second reef.. . the galleon lies near there, her belly ripped open and the fortune she carried scattered for miles. There's several shoals that you'll see before we reach the galleon." Benton kept talking, staring out over the water, his voice almost trancelike. "She must have been driven through here by a hell of a force of wind, bouncing off one reef, tearing her underside open . . . going on to hit the next and then . .."
Starlin trembled, curiosity drawing her gaze over the side to peer down into the water. The ship appeared to gain momentum . . . the helmsman yelling that he had no control. They were being drawn helplessly along.
Starlin clutched Benton's arm.
The fierce-looking pirates appeared terrified enough to mutiny.
"I can only figure it's some sort of underwater currents," Benton explained so that only Starlin might hear. "But don't tell them. Stay calm. We're almost there."
"The water is so eerily motionless .. . how can it be currents?" Starlin turned to ask him.
Benton had not heard, for his attention was riveted on their location. "This is it, Wells," he stated abruptly, holding up his hand. "You can see part of the galleon if you look into the water on the starboard side." He pointed to a clear, translucent section of water.
Starlin remembered the white sea Benton had spoken of that night in the playhouse. It had been difficult to imagine the sea so clear it appeared almost pellucid. She saw the reef—and a wavering, dark shadow below. The galleon! It was lying in a kind of sand bowl next to the reef.
"Time for you to go over the side, Benton my boy," Wells said, almost with joy.
Benton was wearing a shirt and breeches. He was barefoot, but wearing heavy gloves. The reef could cut a man to shreds. He knew to be careful. He removed a gold ring from his finger and held it out to Starlin. She took it, familiar with the seamen's stories of barracudas having attacked divers wearing anything that glinted golden beneath the sea.
Starlin thought of the creature Benton had talked about. She could only hope that it no longer inhabited the area. She glanced up at him, thinking that he appeared very calm for a man about to descend into water that, once before, had almost cost him his life. His eyes met hers, clear and alert. Under any other circumstances she would have smiled. Her eyes misted as she looked at him. His hair tousled and curling about his forehead made him appear even younger than his twenty-eight years. She could not help reaching out a hand to touch him.
"You don't have to do this."
He grinned. "Don't worry yourself so. This is not something that I'd do for anyone but myself, sister dear. You should know that."
"Don't get any notions in your head to defy me, Cambridge," Wells stated, grinning coldly. "I would have to turn our fair Starlin over to my men in retaliation. And I fear she would not appreciate their attentions."
Benton spun around and glared at Wells. "Like I said, no one could make me do this if I didn't have a score to even. But you can rest easy—I won't change my mind."
One of the men handed Benton a canvas bag and a line of rope. He tied one end of the line around his chest.
"I don't want anyone but you on the other end, Wells," Benton stated with a piercing glare. "So that means you'll have to come out in the dinghy with me. I'll be coming up and down with the bag. And I'm certain that you'll want to be the only one I hand it to."
"I'll be more than happy to accommodate you," Wells replied.
"Not having done this sort of thing for a while, give me some time to adjust to the sensation of being under water again."
"Just don't take too long," Wells warned. "I would not like to have to send one of the crew in to get you." That cold grin once more. "They're a greedy lot, you know. Couldn't trust them not to kill you down there just to get their hands on that treasure."
Benton was already climbing down to the rope ladder, preparing to jump into the small boat. Malcolm followed, a gleam of anticipated wealth in his eyes.
He rowed the dinghy directly over the sunken galleon. Without a glance in Starlin's direction, Benton stood and prepared to dive.
Starlin watched with undisguised fear in her eyes. Once in the water, Benton began testing the depths and his courage. Although the shoals were under no more than fifteen feet of water, Starlin knew he was finding it difficult to face his past. This is where it all had begun—and ended, in a sense. She prayed it would not be the same this time.
Wells grew impatient, and yelled out to Benton, "Dive, lad! I didn't come out here to admire your swimming!"
Starlin watched Benton disappear beneath the surface.
The first dive didn't last long. He came up for several minutes and went back down again. He didn't come up for several long minutes, and when he bobbed to the surface once again, Starlin observed him sling a gold chain of some sort to Malcolm. The attorney almost fell over the side of the dinghy in an effort to catch it. With a squeal of greedy delight, he snatched it out of the air and draped it about his neck.
It was then the first stirrings of mutiny must have entered the pirate crew's minds.
Over her shoulder Starlin heard the mate whispering something to another man, who did the same. She felt eyes staring at her back. Her flesh crawled. She wanted to cry out to Benton when she saw his head break the surface, but she knew what disaster would follow if she even hinted of the unrest sifting through the pirates.
The minutes crept slowly by beneath the water. Benton knew his fear of returning to this place had been for a good reason. It was one of the most beautiful underwater places he had ever seen. The quiet and the gentle embrace of the currents lulled one into a false sense of security. Benton knew the sea to be as treacherous as any foe. Let your guard down for a minute and she turned deadly. Kicking his feet, he dove deeper, his lungs already feeling as if they were going to burst. The galleon wavered just ahead. He thought he glimpsed a long, ominous flash dart back into her gaping hull. His heart began to pound in his rib cage.
All of the stories of the galleon being haunted by a shapely phantom who reportedly lured men into her embrace, and to death, flitted through his mind. As he swam back down to the shelflike lip of an underwater cave where jewels and golden objects lay scattered, a colorful school of fish glided curiousl
y beside him. An inquisitive grouper darted past Benton's hand. The touch of the rough scales against his outstretched arm took Benton completely unawares. He jerked his arm to his body, then, seeing the fat grouper darting in the opposite direction, smiled with relief.
Benton glanced around him, back over at the galleon. Nothing moved except small schools of fish. So far, the ferocious form of the barracuda had not appeared. Swallowing to clear his ear pressure, he dove for a winking green stone that caught his eye. He snatched up a gold figure encrusted with emeralds and stuffed it in the bag. A few more gold coins were added to the loot, and then it was back topside once again. Breaking the surface, he was just about to toss the bag into the boat when Malcolm's hand snaked out to grab the bag from him.
"This is a great place, Cambridge," he chortled, scooping the treasure finds from the bag and examining each piece closely. "Why you were too yellow to come back here all of this time escapes me."
Benton hung on to the side of the boat, taking deep breaths.
"I saw something down there. I'm not certain what it was ..." He was breathing deeply. "But I want a knife, just in case."
"A knife! Forget it!" Malcolm exclaimed with a hoot of laughter. "You'd be trying to stab me in the back just as soon as you could."
Favoring Wells with a dark scowl, Benton took a deep breath and dove back beneath the sea.
After several more dives, hauling up the bag filled with heavy gold objects encrusted with jewels, and coins of undetermined number, Benton was exhausted. Every muscle in his body burned fire, and the upper cavities of his nose were aching terribly. He knew from experience it was time to quit diving. He started to get into the boat. Malcolm's booted foot came down on his fingers and he yanked them away.
"Just what do you think you are doing?" Malcolm inquired, his jaw set rigidly.
"I've had enough for the day. I'm coming in!" Benton yelled.
"The hell, you say!"
"If I keep diving in this condition I might not make it back up the next time," Benton growled.
"You yellow scum Cambridge! I know what you're up to." He kicked at Benton's head and caught him a glancing blow.
Benton fell back in the water, stunned.
Starlin cried out, and it was then from behind her that a shot whizzed by the two men and zinged into the water. Malcolm's eyes darted toward the ship, his mouth falling agape upon seeing his men with their pistols aimed at him. He knew they had been standing there watching, just waiting to see if Benton would succeed in retrieving the riches from below. Now they were going to strike. Malcolm raised a clenched fist in the air.
"You'll never have it! It's mine, I tell you!"
Gunfire erupted all around the dinghy and Malcolm ducked down in the boat. Benton dove frantically beneath the water, and kicked downward.
Starlin whirled, thinking that the pirates behind her would surely open fire at Benton. She was amazed to see that their guns were trained upon Wells standing wide-eyed and helpless in the tiny boat. A shot whizzed past Malcolm's head, then another. He could not believe that anyone would have the nerve to defy him.
"Filthy wretches .. ."he choked, feeling a bullet tear into his shoulder.
Starlin slunk away from the crazed group of men. Pandemonium spread like wildfire. Men were diving over the side of the ship into the sea, greed for the riches it protected the only thing on their minds.
The loud roar of a cannon suddenly shook the length of the entire craft and sent the pirates remaining on the ship scrambling for cover. The missile tore through the mizzenmast, wood splintering into the air, smoke and orange-red flames billowing upward and spreading rapidly across the top sails. Men were screaming in panic and running for their lives, some diving overboard to escape the fiery debris raining down on the deck.
Starlin had found her way to the water barrels lining one side of the maindeck. She ducked down behind them, her only thought on survival. The onslaught had come so unexpectedly that no one had had time to identify their attacker. Starlin chanced to look over the top of a barrel toward the advancing brigantine, the figurehead of the scorpion a most welcome sight. She had to force herself not to leap up and cry out. She watched silently as the Tempest, guns roaring, advanced rapidly toward the crippled pirate ship.
Malcolm stood swaying on his feet in the dinghy and stared in stunned horror as all of his dreams of power and wealth began to disintegrate before his eyes. His ship was enveloped in flames, his men scattering like leaves in the wind. He could feel himself growing weak, felt blood trickling down his arm, and, with horror, looked down to see blood spurting from another wound in his chest. The pain wasn't overwhelming, but the sense of weakness in his limbs threatened to buckle his knees. He grasped the gold chain around his neck and clutched it to his breast. For a while, he thought, he had known what it was like to feel rich ...
He saw Benton bobbing near the boat, grasping the side of the dinghy to haul himself inside. With supreme effort, Malcolm kicked outward. Benton deflected the impact with the back of his arm, upsetting the wounded man's balance. Malcolm teetered on the edge, his face a mask of terror. Below, through the transparent blue, he swore he saw a woman's shapely figure beckoning to him with open arms. Upward, she glided ...
"Now, Wells, it's just you and me," Benton snarled, having managed at last to pull himself into the boat. He reached out to grasp hold of Malcolm and watched in stunned disbelief as the attorney lost his footing and toppled forward into the sea.
Benton dove after him. Malcolm was sinking rapidly, almost in peaceful surrender. The weight of the chain pulled him down like a stone. Benton had to give up at last. His lungs were near to bursting, and he knew he could not reach Wells.
Below him, he saw the heavy gold chain glinting brightly in the sun-dappled water, and then, with fear, he saw the enormous barracuda swimming far below on the sandy ocean floor fix a keen black eye on the flash of color above him. The sleek, dark blue body quivered, its lower jaw projecting beyond the snout falling open, teeth appearing like long, jagged spikes.
Malcolm thrashed and struggled against the heavy weight of his prized treasure, desperate now to swim upward. He could not. He was rapidly sinking, water rushing in through his nose and lungs. The chain gleamed like a beacon, drawing the predator upward toward the flash of gold.
Intent on the chain around Malcolm's neck, the barracuda struck with the force of a battering ram, his jaw falling open, sharp teeth sinking into the soft flesh of Malcolm's throat. Blood flushed out the sides of the barracuda's mouth and wavered about the two forms beneath Benton. He looked down to see the barracuda swimming away with Malcolm dangling brokenly between his jaws. The gold chain gleamed brightly up at him, until at last he could see it no more.
Shudder after shudder encompassed Benton as he swam away from the scene of Malcolm's death struggle. He broke the surface, gulping deep breaths, sweet air rushing into his lungs. Grabbing the side of the boat he just barely had the strength to haul himself over the side.
On board the pirate ship, the flames were rapidly spreading. The swine who had not fled into the sea were locked in a battle to the death with the brigands from the Tempest who had overtaken the ship. The clash of steel and the screams of the wounded and dying echoed chillingly across the water.
Rayne Morgan had been the first to swing over onto the fiery deck after the two ships had been locked together by grappling hooks. His eyes were searching everywhere for Starlin even as he stood engaged in a fierce duel with two of Malcolm's men. Steel clashed against steel. Morgan's size and strength was in his favor, and he parried the thrusts from one man to the other with effortless ease. Neither man was as smooth with a blade as Morgan, but the fact that there were two against one gave them the definite advantage.
His back to the rail, Rayne let out a loud roar and lunged forward to cut down one man. Then he spun around and severed in two the sword hand of the other.
A shot whined past his ear, and the sound of a body falling behind
him. Ely hurried to join him, a smoking pistol in one hand, a cutlass in the other.
"Thanks!" Rayne grinned. He glanced frantically about. "Have you seen her anywhere?'
"No, but Starlin's smart. She'll have picked a place to hide until we can find her."
"The fire is spreading quickly. Tell Chevaz to fall back with the men and prisoners. I'll look for Starlin."
Ely nodded and sprinted off.
It was then Rayne saw the top of an ebony head and a pair of wide violet eyes peeking over a barrel at him. Merlin had come to her rescue to snatch the ankle of a would-be attacker. With vicious snarls the wolfhound sent the blackguard running for the side of the ship. It was the only time Starlin had been truly glad to see the beast.
Relief surged through Rayne. There were flames and burning debris all around them, but he knew that nothing could keep him from reaching her.
"Stay there! I'll come to you. And do not defy me!" He saw her smile. For once he felt certain she would do as she was told.
Within minutes he was beside her, pulling her up into the curve of his arm and running toward a dangling grappling line. The ship was a blazing inferno, their only hope of escape was to flee the vessel at once before
the gunpowder stored in her hold blew.
Ely was standing on the deck of the Tempest yelling encouragement.
Without another thought, Rayne grasped Starlin firmly against him and leaped up on the edge of the rail. Overhead a burning sail fluttered toward them.
"Rayne, the baby! I cannot do this!" Starlin screamed.
"We have no choice. I'll shield you as best I can. Hold on to me."
