the low-growing plants beneath my feet gave way to sand. Sunlight pierced shards of agony through my eyes as I took in the coastline. And there she sat, far off down the beach.
Blitz.
From stem to stern, the one-hundred-gun beauty stretched smooth and sleek, her hull, sheets, and masts in top order. She didn’t appear to have a scratch after last night’s attack on the flagship.
I dared a glance at Ashley behind me, but he wasn’t looking at her. He stared directly at me, his eyes glinting with bloodthirsty promises. Wordless vows to destroy everyone on this island.
Good because I was eager to shed some blood, too.
Perhaps, if I weren’t stumbling and dry-heaving and fighting double-vision, we might have been able to overpower our captors. But my weakness served to keep Ashley in line. If he tried to overpower the men holding him, the pirate at my back would kill me.
I needed to get my strength back and my head in working order. Then I would figure out a plan.
The pirates shoved us forward. Onto the beach we went, staggering toward the ship for longer than I thought I could walk.
“How did you escape the hold?” I licked cracked lips, parched and overheated under the unbearable Caribbee sun. “Did you bribe the wardens?”
“Stop talking.” A boot slammed into my back, knocking me onto my face in the sand.
“Don’t touch her!” Ashley roared and charged toward me, yanking uselessly at the bindings at his back.
The cutlass reappeared beneath my chin, and he skidded to a stop.
One of the rogues removed his sweat-stained neckerchief and tied it around my head, gagging me. Another one laughed and followed suit, silencing Ashley, too.
And that was the end of conversation.
We trampled along the coastline in silence, each step carrying us toward Blitz. Ashley showed no remorse or reaction at seeing her anchored so close. Perhaps because she was still so far out of reach.
Eventually, we arrived at the farming hamlet. It comprised of small cottages strung along the tree line connected to pastures of livestock and crops. An ideal target for a pirate ship looking to pillage supplies, restock food stores, and rape farmers’ daughters before continuing on to bigger prizes.
I never claimed to be a decent pirate, but my crew and I followed some rigid rules of conduct. The Articles we’d drawn up on board Jade prohibited raids against unarmed persons, farmers, commoners—anyone who didn’t fall into the wealthy arsehole and king’s men categories. Jade had sailed past this hamlet a few times over the years, and not once had we considered attacking it.
But that was exactly why Blitz was here.
Amongst these farming families, Madwulf could muster another fifty males as reinforcements for his militia.
As my captor shoved me forward along the beach, I watched pirates come and go on longboats between the warship and the shore. They were plundering the inhabitants of their liquor, whale oil, and as much livestock as could be carried away, no doubt crowding the warship’s decks with live chickens, pigs, goats, sheep—the makings of a feast.
Ashley and I were ushered into one of the humble, single-room dwellings. Upon entering, the air went taut, stifling in the humidity.
At least a dozen pirates had already made themselves at home, lounging on the beds, sitting around the dinner table, and sprawled on the modest furnishings.
A crawling sensation rippled across my skin and burrowed into my stomach.
Were any of these men Ashley’s soldiers? Where was Madwulf? On the ship? In one of the neighboring cottages? Perhaps he was out back, violating the women who lived here?
I shared a look with Ashley and knew he had the same dark thoughts.
“She lives?” One of the pirates jumped up.
“And the commodore.” Another spat through the gaps in his teeth.
Laughter and malicious cheer pressed against my bones, stretching my raw nerves.
Before the day ended, I would serve as entertainment for these bawdy rakes. They were all thinking it. And during the impending debauchery, Ashley would be forced to watch, tortured, and gutted, in no particular order.
I needed my voice, but they gave no indication that our gags would be removed.
We were led to a beam in the center of the cottage. Rope replaced the bindings on our wrists, and we were positioned on the floor, shoulder to shoulder with our hands tied to the post.
The impulse to rest my head on Ashley’s arm rode me hard, but I remained stiff and obtuse, giving nothing away. They didn’t need to know I loved the commodore. They certainly didn’t