by Bobbi Smith
"No," Edward answered quickly. "It would be too risky. The kidnappers are expecting one of my household, and I don't want to make them angry. It will be best if you to stay with me. Dalton will go alone when the time comes."
"Yes, Your Grace," the servant answered nervously. The responsibility was a big one, but he was honored to be trusted to do it. "As you say."
"Plan on leaving at quarter past eleven. That should give you plenty of time to make the ride to Bulwer Crossing and leave the money."
The three men agreed and then fell silent. They knew the balance of the day was going to pass very slowly as they waited for the coming of the midnight hour and, ultimately, for the return of Catherine and Alexander.
Wearing only a bright-red turban and a pair of loose pants cut short, Muhammed Ibn Abbas, fiercest of all the Barbary pirates, was the picture of power as he stood on the deck of his ship staring out across the Atlantic, his brawny arms folded across his darkly tanned, heavily muscled chest. He was an evil, black-hearted man, who commanded complete and utter obedience from his men. Corsairs that they were, his crew understood and respected brute strength, so they gave him their unfailing loyalty. Muhammed knew they dared do no less, for he dealt with any hint of betrayal with swift and harsh punishment.
Muhammed thoroughly enjoyed his life as a pirate, although he was finding this voyage very frustrating. They had sailed from their home port of Algiers several weeks before, yet to date they had taken no ship or bounty. His men were growing restless, and so was he. In a daring move, he had ordered his ship out into the Atlantic, and they sailed now off the coast of France, searching hungrily for prey.
"Muhammed Reis . . ." Selim, his second-in-com-and and most trusted friend, greeted his captain as he joined him. "Don't you think we've come far enough north?"
"Nonsense, my friend, you worry too much. There is a valuable prize somewhere nearby, I can feel it," Muhammed boasted.
Selim, however, wasn't so confident. "It's been days now, and we've seen nothing worth taking. How can you be so certain?"
The ship's captain turned a deadly gaze on his companion. "Do you doubt me after all these years?"
He had seen that look before and knew it was time to back down. "Never have I doubted you, and I do not now."
"Good. Then we are agreed. We will continue to hunt these waters until we have taken a prize worthy of us."
Selim nodded in agreement as he let his gaze sweep across the horizon. Somewhere out there was a ship holding riches, and he knew Muhammed would find it.
"Captain Black!" the sailor shouted. "Ship off the port bow!"
Black was not overly concerned. They were traveling in one of the most trafficked sea lanes on their way to the rendezvous point Mr. Smith had designated, so it was not unusual to sight another vessel. "What flag is he flying?"
"French, sir," the man replied after lifting his telescope to check.
"Carry on, but keep a sharp eye just in case," the captain directed.
"Aye, sir."
Belowdecks on the Dolphin, Avery sat in his cabin savoring the moment. He glanced at his pocket watch and his expression turned to a very satisfied one. Within hours, they would reach the island. At approximately the same time the sale was completed tonight and Alex and Catherine were forever taken off his hands, the ransom would be delivered to England. It was definitely going to be a glorious night.
"Captain, it looks like the vessel's deliberately closing on us," the lookout informed Captain Black as he watched the oncoming ship draw ever closer. There was a touch of nervousness in his voice.
"Let's have a look," Black said. Taking the telescope from the mate standing nearby, he trained his experienced gaze on the ship that was fast gaining on them.
Until this moment, Black had always considered himself a man of the sea. He knew he was a more than competent captain, but what he saw when he leveled the scope at the nearing ship sent a shaft of terror through his soul. The deck of the ship was swarming with pirates. As they came even closer, he could make out that some were carrying pistols, others scimitars. They looked as hideously vicious as their reputation proclaimed, and Black knew real fear. His first instinct was to order full sail, but he knew it was already too late. The corsairs would be upon them within the hour. There was nowhere to run and certainly nowhere to hide.
"Captain Black? Shouldn't we try to make a run for it or at least man the guns?" Warson, Black's first officer, asked.
The Dolphin was equipped with three guns, but the captain knew they were no match for the firepower of the pirate ship.
"No. If we resist and try to fight them, we'll be slaughtered."
"But Captain . . ."
"Enough!" He turned a burning gaze on Warson. "I've heard tales of what these pirates do to anyone who fights back." Black turned away to look at the pirate ship that was pulling ever closer to them even as they spoke. Even at full sail, there could be no avoiding their fate. "Tell the crew I want no fighting. When they board, we will offer no resistance. Understood?"
"Aye, Captain. What about the passengers?"
"I'll take care of them. See to the ship, Mr. Warson." With that, Black left him, going below to seek out Mr. Smith and warn him of the coming trouble.
The knock at his cabin door surprised Avery. He hoped one of the crew was coming to tell him that they had reached the rendezvous point early. He was eagerly anticipating the completion of his upcoming business transaction. It was going to feel very good having that large a sum of money in his hands.
"Yes? What is it?" Avery asked as he threw the door wide. It surprised him to find the captain standing there, but he wasn't concerned. He just assumed the man had come to discuss the last of the business details with him. "Captain Black . . . do come in."
"There's no time for pleasantries, Mr. Smith," Black replied.
Avery finally noticed the man's taut expression, and he frowned. "What's wrong?"
"We're about to be boarded," he answered tersely.
"Then we've arrived . . ."
"We're not going to 'arrive', sir."
"What?" Avery demanded incredulously.
"We are about to be overtaken by pirates."
"You must do something, Captain Black! You can't let this happen!"
"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do."
"Fight them off!"
"I will not endanger the lives of my crew by resisting a superior force. I know what kind of men these are. They show no mercy. They understand only complete victory. I suggest you prepare yourself and your 'guests' for the inevitable," he suggested.
"What do you mean?" Avery panicked.
"I mean we will probably be taken to North Africa in chains. There is a possibility that we could be ransomed back to England within a year or so." He paused to let his words take effect. "Now, if you will excuse me. I have other duties I must attend to."
"Captain, I insist that you do something! For God's sake, man, fight them! I paid you for safe passage!" Avery was frantic, and he reached out and grabbed the captain by the arm to stop him from leaving.
Black turned on him, his face mirroring pure fury as he threw off his restraining hold. "Don't ever touch me again, Smith. Do you think I like losing my boat and my crew? This is the only way to save our lives. We'll be sold into slavery, but eventually, if we have any luck at all, we'll be returned."
"Oh, my God . . ." Avery was physically quaking.
"Get control of yourself." Black gave him a disgusted look as he saw how shaken he was, then stalked off.
As Avery watched him go, he couldn't stop shaking. They were about to be taken by pirates, and then God knew what was going to happen to him! He had to save himself! He had to do something! But what? His mind was racing, but he could think of no way to escape. His gaze darted about the stateroom searching for some place to hide, and then he saw it . . . As he moved to conceal himself from the cutthroats who were about to seize the ship, it never crossed his mind to worry about his sister or son.
He only cared about himself, as he always had.
In their cabin, Catherine and Alex sat waiting for what they believed was the end. They had felt the forward motion of the ship stop and had assumed that they had reached the place where Avery was going to carry out his dastardly plan. Catherine sat on the edge of the bunk, cradling Alex on her lap. She thought of Gerald, and a deep, abiding sadness filled her as she realized she would probably never see him again. Alex was all she had now, and she clung to him, fearful of a future that would separate them.
Catherine had had to explain what was about to happen to her nephew. The confrontation with Avery had made it necessary for her to tell him what she believed to be the truth. Alex had been brave in his response to her explanation, but she knew it was only because he was still much too young to understand what was really about to happen to them.
"Aunt Catherine?" Alex said her name softly as he nestled against her breast.
"Yes, darling?" she answered softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. Her heart was aching at the thought of his being taken from her and subjected to a kind of treatment she couldn't even begin to imagine. He was an innocent and she loved him so. Catherine realized then what she'd really known all along. She would sacrifice her own life, if necessary, to keep the boy safe from harm.
"Will we see my father again?"
"I imagine so. Why?" His question puzzled her.
"I was just hoping we wouldn't have to. I know he likes to hurt you and make you sad, and I don't want us to see him any more."
She was amazed by his defense of her, and it only deepened the love she felt for him. "He hurts everyone, Alex. He's a cruel man. Will you promise me something?" She lightened her tone a little to try to ease the seriousness of the moment.
"What?" He lifted his head to gaze up at her with adoring eyes.
"When you grow up to be a fine, strong man, I want you to remember what an ugly person your father was and make sure not to be anything like him."
"I don't understand. He's not ugly . . ." Alex's expression turned troubled.
"Not on the outside, sweetheart, but inside, where it really counts. We all have the choice to be either good or bad. Some people, like your father, choose to be bad. It's important, then, that we learn not to make the same choices they did. Do you understand now?"
Alex nodded with all the solemnity possible for a seven-year-old faced with a grave problem. "I promise."
"Good." Catherine held him to her heart. "I know you're going to be a wonderful man. You know, your grandfather can hardly wait for you to get old enough to help him with all the estates."
"I'm going to do it, too," he answered happily. "Grandfather and I will have a good time taking care of everything. You'll see. When I grow up, I'm going to be as good a duke as he is."
"I'm sure you will." She encouraged his daydreams, knowing how soon they would all be tragically destroyed.
"But Aunt Catherine . . ."
He sounded suddenly so unhappy that she wondered what was bothering him. "What, darling?" She kept a protective arm around him, loving the feel of his soft warm body snuggled against her.
"I just wish I'd had time to get my boat . . ." he sighed.
Catherine choked back a cry of misery at his loss. She bit her lip to keep her tears from falling. "Well, I'm sure it will be right there waiting for you when we get home."
Alex thought for a moment. "You're right." He mustered a smile for her. "Grandfather will take care of it for me . . . Aunt Catherine, do you think Grandfather's all right. I'm worried about him."
"I'm sure he's fine, and if I know him, he's busy looking for us right now. He loves us and he won't stop searching until he finds us."
"I sure hope he finds us soon. I miss him."
"I miss him, too," she replied, heavy at heart.
They were sitting there, clasped in each other's arms when they heard the first shot.
"What was that?" Alex asked, pulling away from her, his eyes big and round with worry.
"It was a gunshot . . ."
"A gunshot? Why would anyone be shooting at us?"
"I don't know. I . . ." All the color drained from Catherine's face as she heard the thunder of footsteps resounding on the deck overhead, more shots being fired, and the muted screams of men being murdered up on deck. She'd heard enough tales to know what that meant. Pirates! They were under attack by pirates!
Muhammed loved the first moments of an attack when the boats came together, the grappling hooks were thrown, and they swung aboard to claim the other ship as their own. He enjoyed seeing the looks of terror on the faces of the sailors they were about to enslave, and he particularly enjoyed wresting control of the vessel from its captain. It gave him a feeling of great power to know they could strike such fear in the hearts of men. It was good to know that stories of their viciousness had spread around the world far and wide. Sometimes the rumors were enough to bring full capitulation without a struggle. This, however, was not one of those times.
As Muhammed and Selim led the way onto the deck of the Dolphin, pistols and scimitars in hand, a few foolish sailors under Black's command disobeyed his order to submit without a fight. They drew their own pistols and fired at the mob of oncoming corsairs, killing two of Muhammed's men before they themselves were cut down, decapitated by swift, terrible blows from the scimitars of the pirate captain and his second-in-command. The rest of the crew of the Dolphin trembled in uncertainty, not knowing if they would live or die at the hands of the gruesome invaders.
Muhammed ordered his men to seize the ship. With Selim in the lead, some of the men swarmed over the deck and down the companionways to search out the hold and the cabins for valuables. Others under Muhammed's watchful gaze took charge of captured sailors, chaining them and then stripping them of all personal goods. Any items they could take from the crew from shoes to weapons were important to the pirates, for it was the only booty they would personally be allowed to keep at this time. All the other riches on board had to be carefully tallied and then a substantial percent offered in tribute to the dey of Algiers when they returned home. Only after the ruler had been paid would the pirate crew receive any further reward for their bloodthirsty efforts.
While Muhammed commanded on deck, Selim was growing furious belowdecks. It had angered and surprised him to find that there was no rich cargo in the hold. He dreaded bringing the news to Muhammed and was wondering about it when he discovered the locked door to Catherine and Alex's stateroom. He shot an evil smile at his men and then broke down the door in one smooth, violent move.
Catherine screamed. She hadn't meant to, but the sight of the pirate, his scimitar still glistening with the blood of the slain sailor, terrorized her. She and Alex hung on to each other for dear life.
"Ah . . . what have we here?" Selim joked with his men. "We were worried that there was no treasure on board, but perhaps we were looking for the wrong kind of treasure, eh, men?"
A hearty murmur of agreement came from the corsairs who crowded behind him trying to get a look at the woman.
Alex could hardly believe what was happening. He'd read so much about pirates and now here he was, face-to-face with the men he'd alternately admired and feared. He wasn't sure how to react until they spoke of their intentions.
"I think Muhammed Reis will be glad when he sees this one. Seize her and bring her up on deck!"
As one of the men moved to grab Catherine, Alex erupted, throwing himself from her arms to stand before the pirates without fear. "No! You can't have her."
"Hush, Alex . . ." Catherine pleaded, trying to shut him up before he got himself killed.
"Well, well, and what is this now? A little rooster with more courage than the entire crew?" Selim chuckled, gazing down at the small boy who would dare defy them. It would have been simple to kill him, but he was a man who admired bravery. This one would grow to be a fine man someday—if he lived that long. "Bring them both. We will give them to Muhammed Reis."
&nbs
p; One of the pirates snatched Alex up and, carrying him easily under his arm, he hauled the kicking, yelling boy away. Catherine followed after them, trembling in terror as she was herded up the companionway and onto the deck. When they emerged outside, she saw the carnage that had been wreaked there and felt a surge of nausea. Her gaze swept anxiously over the deck searching for some sign of Avery, but he was nowhere around. She was wondering where he was when she was brought to stand with Alex before Muhammed.
Having seen the two headless bodies littering the deck, Alex was even more scared now, but he refused to show his fear to the pirates. He stood stiffly at Catherine's side, his gaze level and unwavering as he stared up at the pirate captain.
"She and the boy were the only prizes on board, Muhammed Reis, " Selim told him.
"Ah, but she's a prize of great worth," the pirate captain agreed, his gaze traveling over Catherine's pale hair and slender, enticing curves with insulting familiarity. He gave Alex only a cursory glance. "Why have you bothered with the boy?"
"He's a brave little fellow. He would defend the woman, and I found his fearlessness amusing," Selim explained.
Muhammed then turned his piercing gaze on the boy with more interest. He studied him for a moment, then directed, "Take them both to my cabin. I think this is one prize the dey needn't know about."
Selim knew a moment of worry at his ploy. It was not wise to withhold anything from the dey, and trepidation filled him at the thought of defying the ruler. Malik el Mansour hadn't gotten to be the dey of Algiers by allowing his men to slight him in tribute. He was a proud and very powerful master who had spies everywhere. Still, Selim knew better than to counter any order given by Muhammed in front of his crew. He rushed to do his captain's bidding, delivering the woman and child to the privacy of his cabin. Later, when they were alone, he would question his wisdom in keeping her for his own. Beautiful though she was, she wasn't worth his life, and Malik would surely see Muhammed dead if he dared try to cheat him of his treasure.
As some of Selim's men continued to scour the Dolphin for additional wealth, they broke into Avery's cabin and began tearing the room apart. Inside the trunk where he'd hidden himself, Avery sniveled with fear. His hands were shaking and he was drenched in a cold sweat. He could hear the barbarians rummaging through everything, and he prayed desperately to be spared the end he was sure to come. When the lid to the trunk was thrown open and his cowardly hiding place revealed, he heard them laughing and knew true terror.
