LITMIR.BIZ

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by other pirates.

      Usually a pirate’s intent was not to sink a ship or to kill the crew. Ships were valuable. They were usually taken and added to a pirate’s fleet. Men were killed only when they refused to surrender, for the captured ships needed crews.

      Black Luke had sunk more ships than most men saw in a lifetime. He had never allowed a captured man to live. He had tortured his captives. His men had not voted, as was the pirate way, nor received their fair share of any treasure. There would have been a mutiny, had they not been so terrified for their lives. It had been said that he had eyes in the back of his head. One of his men had once tried to kill him when he had been sleeping. Black Luke had arisen to grab him by the neck and throw him into the sea.

      “Red killed Black Luke?” Logan asked incredulously.

      “Yes.”

      “How?”

      “Talent. And a hell of a lot of luck,” Brendan said.

      “Were you there?”

      Brendan’s jaw was as tight as a hangman’s noose. “Yes,” he said after a moment.

      “I can’t believe it.”

      “Believe it.”

      “I’d heard a rumor that Black Luke was dead, but no one ever seemed to know if it was true, or, if so, how he died,” Logan said.

      Brendan was staring straight ahead, clearly unwilling to explain.

      A door burst open, and a man came flying out of an establishment with peeling white paint and shuttered windows that were open to the day. He was followed by a woman with a mass of wild black hair, bare feet, a low cotton bodice and a multicolored skirt with the hem of a dirty petticoat peeking out from beneath it. “Take yer filthy paws elsewhere, y’ varmint!” she shouted. “My girls are not cheap!”

      “Your girls are whores!” the fellow yelled in return.

      “But they’re not cheap whores, and they’ll not be taking on the likes of you for nowt. Get away with ye.” She paused, a smile splitting her face as she saw Red. “Captain Robert,” she said, her tone delighted.

      “Aye, Sonya, we’re in port. Is Edward about?” Red asked.

      “He said ye’d be here. He’s a room ready fer yer negotiating in the back. Brendan, poppet,” she crooned. “And…what have we here?” she asked with a wink, her gaze moving admiringly over Logan.

      She walked up to him quickly with a sway in her steps but stopped short of touching him.

      “Why, it’s Laird Haggerty,” she said with another smile.

      That stopped Red, Logan noticed.

      “Aye, Sonya. A pleasure,” he said, and dipped his hat.

      Red was staring at him with an expression that plainly said, Men. Naturally, he knows the island’s harlots.

      Sonya frowned. “You are…sailing…together?” she said incredulously.

      “Laird Haggerty is our guest at the moment,” Brendan said. His tone, though pleasant enough, indicated that she should ask no more. Then he clapped a hand on Logan’s back. “To the rum, eh?” he said.

      “To the rum,” Logan agreed. He was certain he had no other choice. But as they entered the noisy, smoke-filled tavern, he could not help but watch Captain Red Robert as the pirate walked toward the rear of the dubious establishment.

      “Sonya knows you?” Brendan asked, a wicked gleam in his eye.

      “I sail to all the known ports,” Logan said.

      “Seeking treasure?” Brendan asked skeptically.

      “I sell and trade,” Logan said, and looked away. “And, of course…every sailor seeks information,” he added.

      “Information?” Brendan pursued.

      “It’s wise for all of us to know what happens on the seas. Which…captains sail where.”

      “Ah. Pity, you didn’t hear about our whereabouts, then.”

      “Pity,” Logan agreed.

      

      “LITTLE GIRL! WELCOME!”

      The man already entrenched behind one of the tavern’s rickety wood tables in the rear corner of the place was huge. His double-breasted jacket was open, as was his cotton shirt, and grandiose lace spilled out over his velvet vest.

      Edward Teach, popularly known as Blackbeard, was fond of ostentatious clothing, as strange a contrast as it made with his thick dark hair, formidable size and ruggedly lined features. He was a sensual man, with full lips, large hands and a barrel-deep laugh.

      Red cast him a look of baleful warning.

      “Ah, think you that the lot of drunks beyond this wall can hear a bloody blessed thing over all their caterwauling and so-called music and whoring, missy?”

      “There are always those who long to topple the successful from power, and you know it,” Red reminded him, sliding the chair opposite him out from the table with her foot. As soon as she sat, he reached across the table and took her hands.

      “As you wish, Cap’n Red, so it will be. In the darkest of night, in solitude and to the heavens. Cap’n Red. That be that.”

      “I brought you treasure.”

      “I steal treasure for a living, as well you know.” He arched a brow. “I agreed to meet you here to consider your offer to join forces, not to buy treasure.”

      She waved a hand in the air. “This is an exceptional treasure.”

      “Oh?”

      “Spanish treasure.”

      He laughed. “Well, it’s sorry I am to say it, but the English have not come up with much treasure. The Spanish are the ones known to be wiping out whole populations and taking what they won’t be needing anymore, since they’re all dead.”

      “The English did not claim the lands where gold was to be found,” she said. “But, apparently, certain English nobles were willing to pay highly for this treasure. You’ve seen what I’ve brought. The pieces and the jewels are exquisite.”

      “Aye, I’ve seen what you brought. And it’s fine indeed.”

      “Of course. So you’ll offer me negotiable gold for it?”

      “I am an exceptional sea thief myself. I can steal my own treasure.”

      “But this one will cost you half its worth—and not a man to boot. You won’t waste a ball or shell, you will not have to let loose a single cannon. You can obtain this rare treasure at an unusually low cost in time, effort and life.”

      “I like you, and you know it. And I think you should live and take your pretty arse out of all this,” he said, nodding seriously.

      She smiled. He was one of the most feared men to sail the seas. He knew what she had instinctively fathomed: perception was of far greater value than truth. Not that he hadn’t slain his share of opponents, and not that he couldn’t be ruthless, but he didn’t kill every man he captured, and he was very fond of women. In fact, he had married many of them.

      He didn’t believe in divorce, but then, his marriages were hardly legal anyway. He was generous and kind with his women, though, and preferred a simple disappearing act to anything more fatal.

      “I heard that you chased Blair Colm,” she said flatly.

      He stared back at her and sighed. “Aye, I saw the man.”

      She leaned closer. “The ship—or the man himself?”

      He leaned in, as well. His beard, in which he took great pride, lay upon the table, with strings tied here and there through it.

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