LITMIR.BIZ

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stepped back and hung his head. “Brendan,” Red said warningly.

      The captain had a curious voice, Logan thought. He seemed eternally soft-spoken. Strange, for someone who needed to bellow orders against the wind. There was a husky, almost whispered quality to his voice.

      “Aye, Red,” the man named Brendan replied, but despite his immediate acknowledgment that Red was captain and his orders stood, he was rigidly disapproving.

      “It is done,” Red Robert said.

      “This is madness,” Jamie protested softly to Logan. “A trick, certainly. They will not let us go. They will not forego half of such a treasure.”

      “It is madness,” Logan agreed. Madness from the moment he had agreed to transport the treasure. Madness? Aye, from start to finish, but here was his chance to at least save those he had dragged into folly along with him.

      “Madness, but I believe this pirate will stand by his word.”

      “My deck, m’lord Captain, is the larger,” Red Robert said. “We shall hold our contest here.”

      There was some muttering upon the pirate’s deck.

      And some protests from Logan’s own.

      Red Robert lifted a hand. The muttering went silent. “We shall fight until first blood,” he called out gruffly.

      “Are you afraid of Lord Haggerty’s prowess?” Jamie shouted out.

      Logan wished the man silent. They were hardly in a position to aggravate their opponents.

      “I don’t intend to sacrifice a fine ransom or ready muscles for the oars,” Red returned, unruffled.

      “Well?” demanded one of Red’s fellows. “Do we get on with this or not?”

      Logan leapt nimbly upon the ship’s rail to make his way to the other ship’s deck. Alone among the ruffians and sea robbers, he stood his ground. He stared at the slender and oddly aesthetic pirate, then dipped a deep and sweeping bow. “At your convenience, Captain.”

      “Clear the deck,” Red Robert said, and it wasn’t a resounding, thunderous shout, but a quiet command, still instantly obeyed.

      “He needs a second!” Jamie McDougall called, and leapt across to stand, white-faced, fists clenched, at Logan’s side.

      Jamie McDougall was a good and loyal friend, Logan thought. They had a long history together. Jamie would not, apparently could not, leave him now.

      Red Robert pulled his sword from the handsome scabbard belted about his hip. He swept a courtly bow to Logan. “At your convenience, m’lord.”

      “Nay, sir, at yours,” Logan said softly.

      It might have been a casual meeting on the street. At first they circled one another carefully, each trying to assess the measure and mettle of the other man. Neither of them appeared the least concerned. Logan saw a smile twitch at the pirate’s lips. This close, he saw that the captain was indeed very young.

      He wondered that the pirate captain, however youthful and—perhaps?—inexperienced he might be, had not shed the crimson coat. He was clad in shirt and breeches himself, allowing a far greater freedom of movement.

      But his opponent seemed perfectly comfortable in his coat.

      He certainly wasn’t about to suggest his opponent remove it. Why offer his foe any advantage?

      “Get ’im, Red!” cried gray-haired Hagar, and a chant went up among the pirates.

      Not to be outdone, Logan’s own crew called encouragement to him.

      “Take the sea robber, m’lord! Take him!” Jamie shouted.

      “Red, watch his footwork,” warned the man named Brendan.

      “He’s a scurvy sea rat, m’lord!” cried someone from his own deck. Richard Darnley, Logan thought, a good young sailor, and a man intent on making his way in the world.

      Young and stalwart. A man who deserved a long life and the fulfillment of his dreams.

      Red Robert continued to assess him.

      And then they met.

      Slowly, almost politely. A touching of the swords. A meeting of the eyes.

      Then they began in earnest.

      Logan felt the clash of steel vibrate all along his arm. A quick return, another, then another.

      For a moment he felt he had the advantage, but he quickly realized he had thought too soon.

      His opponent leapt nimbly against the starboard hull, then pushed off and nearly caught him dead in the chest. Logan managed a jump to the side, instinct-driven, and he was certain that saved his life. But it had been close. Far too close. They were fighting only until first blood was drawn. But had the pirate made good on that last lunge…

      It wasn’t to be a gentlemanly duel, Logan realized.

      “M’lord, watch the wretched sea robber,” Jamie warned him.

      Logan came on hard with a series of quick thrusts and slashes, forcing his opponent back again. Just when he thought he had the pirate nearly cornered against the master’s cabin, Red Robert once again made a sudden sweeping leap that sent him bouncing off a storage bin. This time when he came about, it was to nearly sever Logan’s head from his body.

      Instinct had driven him to duck, keeping life and skull intact. Barely. His opponent was as adept with a sword as he’d claimed, and clearly not at all afraid of shedding blood or lopping off limbs.

      Logan caught a glimpse of the pirate’s eyes.

      They were narrowed and deadly.

      The chanting, the jests, the encouragement, the hoots of derision, all seemed to be getting louder and louder, like a growing storm.

      The pirate’s face was flushed. Red Robert wore his name well at that moment, Logan reflected, hoping he was seeing a sign of weakness. Perhaps the pirate had been a bit too impressed with his own skill. A more than respectable skill, certainly, but no man was assured of victory.

      He had to take the advantage now, Logan knew. A very large part of excellence in swordsmanship lay in the mind, in creating a strategy for using a man’s talents most effectively. A heavy man used his weight and strength, a nimble man his agility. To best this pirate, he had to assess each leap and slide the man might take beforehand, then be somewhere else when the strike came.

      Once again the pirate took to the air, this time landing atop a rum barrel. And in that split second, Logan anticipated the man’s next move, a rapid leap that would bring the pirate behind him.

      Logan whirled around. In that brief moment, he prayed he hadn’t anticipated in error and that the pirate would not come down behind his current position.

      He didn’t.

      Too late, Red Robert saw that his move had been predicted.

      He landed facing Logan.

      And Logan set the point of his blade against the pirate’s throat.

      Blue eyes gazed at him with fury, and yet he was certain the pirate was not so much angry with him as he was with himself for being outmaneuvered.

      “Good calculation,” Robert said, barely managing to unclench his teeth.

      Logan withdrew the point of his sword and bowed.

      As he stood, he found the pirate’s blade at his throat.

      It was his turn for anger.

      “You, Captain, are not a man of your word. I have bested you.”

      The pirate gloated. “First blood. You did not draw blood.”

      “Only because I chose not to cause injury. But an agreement has been made, and I am an honest

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