“Good job,” I said, snapping out orders to the twins. “We need to make a stretcher to carry Corbin into town. A blanket is going to have to do. One of you take the head, the other the foot. Bas, you run into town as quickly as you can and wake up Renata. Tell her we’re bringing… er… tell her we’re bringing a friend who’s been gravely wounded, and we’ll need a doctor.”
Bas cast a longing glance toward the hatch that led belowdecks, but hopped over the side of the ship into the shallow waters quick enough. I watched until he disappeared into the dense growth that surrounded the town, then got my makeshift ambulance team organized.
The trip to Renata’s house was slow and awkward. The boys had to stop frequently, and even with Tar and me helping, it seemed to take forever before we stumbled into town. I thought we’d have to snake our way around the back in order to avoid being seen by the townsfolk, but the deep rumble of guns in the distance reminded me that the battle would have everyone’s attention. The square was empty of life except for a pair of mangy dogs fighting over the remains of a roast chicken.
Renata was waiting at the door, looking not at all like a woman who’d just been dragged out of bed.
“I’m sorry to wake you up, but I have a friend who needs help,” I said, holding the door open as the panting twins hauled Corbin inside.
“I wasn’t asleep. The lads in the harbor have seen to that,” she told me, bending over the blanket. She sucked in her breath as she saw who lay there, giving me a long, unreadable glance. I returned it with one that I hoped made it clear that I would brook no betrayal. “Ye’ve Black Corbin here unless I am mistaken.”
“My bedroom is this way,” I directed, holding the doors for the boys as they carried Corbin in and laid him down on my bed. I made sure he was comfortable, then turned to where Renata stood in the doorway, Bas trying to see around her. “Yes, it’s Corbin. Do you have a problem with that? Because I’m telling you right here and now that if you’re not who you appear to be, and you try to do something to harm him, you will know my wrath. I can be very, very mean when something matters to me, and this man matters more than you can possibly imagine.”
Renata’s lips pursed as she considered me. “I’ve no problem with Corbin bein‘
here, although ye should know that Bart’s placed the black spot upon him. If ye don’t want him dancin’ with Jack Ketch, ye’d best be gettin‘ him out of here right quick.”
“Not until he’s seen a doctor, and not then if the doctor says he shouldn’t be moved,” I answered, prepared to fight for my man, ignoring the tiny niggle in the back of my mind that asked just when it was that Corbin had become mine.
“Ah, lass, there be no doctor here. He was killed when that man lyin‘ yonder murdered Bart’s crew.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to forestall both the headache I could feel wanting to blossom to life and the urge to lose my temper. Screaming that Corbin didn’t actually kill anyone would do him little good. “Is there someone here who has medical training?”
Renata just looked at me.
“A… what do they call them… healer?”
“Aye, Sly Jez is by way of bein‘ a healer,” Renata allowed.
“Great.” I knelt next to the bed and started to remove Corbin’s wet clothing, carefully avoiding the wood jutting out of his stomach. “I’ll help however best I can. Tar, you and the boys go take a look at my ship and see how badly she’s damaged. I need to know whether or not I can sail her to Mongoose. Oh, and Tar?” I glanced back over my shoulder at where my crew stood huddled together in the corner of the room, clearly uncomfortable at being in such close confines with the infamous Black Corbin. I gave them all a look to let them see the steely resolve that flowed through me. “I will give each of you ten reales for your help in moving Corbin, but if any of you mention this to a single living soul outside of this room, I will hang your guts from the yardarm. With great pleasure, using nothing but a spoon and a dull butter knife. Do you all understand?”
Prudence swallowed hard and nodded. Impulsive just looked scared. Tar had a blank look on his face, but his eyes avoided meeting mine. The three of them left quickly, but doubts about Tar lingered in my mind.
Jez turned out to be a better resource than I’d imagined— she bustled into the room in nothing but an (evidently hastily donned) chemise, a basket on her arm, looking quite proficient until she stopped with a shocked look on her face.
“Oh, mercy! That’s… that’s…”
“Yes, it’s Corbin. He’s my hus—er… boyfr—uh… he’s a friend, all right? I’ll pay you to take care of this horrible wound he has and keep quiet, but for the love of God, please don’t ask questions, and just help him. He’s been unconscious for way too long. He might be suffering irreparable brain damage or something.”
Jez didn’t say anything further, although she did give me an odd look. My confidence in her abilities rose when she quickly examined Corbin, dismissing the lesser wounds to focus on the big one.
“Amy?” Kneeling next to Jez, I spun around so fast I fell back on my butt.
“Corbin? My sweet Corbin. You’re awake.”
“Yes,” he said, a spasm of pain crossing his face as he tried to move. I crawled over to him and put a restraining hand on the upper part of his chest. “Christ, I feel horrible. What happened?”
“You were hit with shrapnel. Don’t move. We’re taking care of you.”
“We?” he asked weakly, lifting his head to look down his body, his eyes widening as he saw the blood and gore. “Christ almighty and all the saints!”
“I’m going to take it out now,” Jez said to me softly, laying a couple of clean white cloths next to Corbin’s hip, along with a stoppered bottle of what looked to be brandy.
“What did she say?”
I put a hand on Corbin’s forehead and gently pushed it back into the pillow, leaning over him so all he could see was my eyes. “Sweetie, I want you to remember something, something very important.”
“What’s that?” he asked, trying to see around me.
