The stairwell opened before Caleb like the throat of some great wooden beast, breathing the scent of brine, tar, and sunlight.As he climbed, the sounds of theSentinelsurrounded him—the creak of rigging, the groan of masts, the rhythmic thud of bare feet upon planks.When he emerged upon the quarterdeck, the sea struck him full in the face, sharp and cleansing, its wind tugging at his hair and coat.
The horizon stretched endless and gleaming beneath a sky as blue as grace itself.Yet even in such vastness, he felt the hollow ache of absence, as if some essential part of him had been torn away and cast upon those far, uncharted waters.Below on the main deck, Liam’s voice rang out, loud and impatient, rallying the men.Caleb squared his shoulders and started toward him, the weight of command settling once more over his heart like a familiar, but heavy, cloak.
“Well done, Liam.”Caleb halted beside his bosun and looked aloft.The men in the tops moved with nimble precision, reefing and trimming sail against the freshening wind.“You’ve kept theSentinelsteady on her course with half a crew and no quartermaster.I commend you.”
A blast of wind caught Liam’s fair hair, whipping it across his brow.He shoved it aside with a grin, though his expression sobered as he led Caleb out of earshot of the men.The boards beneath their boots creaked with the roll of the sea.
“I’ve been meanin’ to speak with ye, Cap’n.”He gripped the rail, staring out across the glittering expanse where sky met water.
Caleb waited, puzzled.Liam O’Neill was rarely solemn.His laughter and jests were as constant as the tide.
At last, the Irishman turned, remorse shadowing his green eyes.“I betrayed ye,” he said quietly.“Stole yer Ring.I meant to sell it, to pay off me debts, all of me own making.”His voice cracked, and he turned away.“And yet ye risked yer life to save me from the noose.Why?”
Caleb drew a deep breath of salty air.At the time he’d acted on instinct, but now he understood.“As I said before, everyone deserves a chance at redemption, Liam.None of us are without fault.’Tis why God sent His only Son to pay the price for what we could not.He died innocent, for us guilty.Perhaps you did deserve the rope.”Caleb’s gaze softened.“But I know you’ve a good heart beneath all that bluster.All you need is faith—in God, and in yourself.”
Caleb felt the truth of his own words pierce him.Did he not need the same grace he offered others?
Liam’s hand drifted to the green stone that hung from his neck, his jaw taut with emotion.
“And you’ve no need of that trinket,” Caleb said gently, nodding toward it.“A charm’s no protection when the Almighty fights at your side.”
“I canna say I understand it all, Cap’n,” Liam admitted, “but I think I’d like to.”
A burst of light and love swelled in Caleb’s spirit as if God Himself smiled down upon him.Oh, how he’d missed that sensation, the strong presence of the Almighty within him.He gripped Liam’s shoulder, ready to speak further when—
“A sail, a sail!Off the larboard bow!”bellowed from the cross trees.
Caleb seized his spyglass, extending it with a snap.He swept the horizon, waves glittering like shards of glass, until, faint but clear, a white sail bulged against the blue, fat with wind.
He adjusted the focus.No colors yet.Too far.But it was there, prow cutting the sea like a blade.
He lowered the scope as Ayida emerged from the main hatch, her skirts fluttering about her ankles as she made for the rail.
“Who is she?”Liam asked, squinting toward the vessel on the horizon.
“Unclear.Keep a weather eye on her.When she shows her colors, come find me.”
He turned his gaze upon the cook.There was business long delayed, and it could wait no longer.
He summoned Ayida to his cabin.She came reluctantly, eyes wary, the sway of the ship casting shadows across the bulkhead.
When the door shut behind them, Caleb faced her squarely.“Do you know what I do with traitors, woman?With those who defy my orders and steal from me?”
Her chin lifted, dark eyes flashing.“I knows, Capitaine.But I ain’t afraid.”
“Liam tells me you took the Ring while I went ashore for Miss Starr,” he said coldly.“He claims he struck you to reclaim it.Is this true?”
Ayida’s hand went to the bright scarf binding her hair, fingers trembling as if memory might be hidden there.“Why you believin’ dat drunken fool?”
“Because that drunken fool was willing to hang rather than betray me.”Caleb’s voice deepened.The memory of Geneviève’s deceit burned hot in his chest.He’d relied on his feelings, not on the Holy Spirit.He would not be blind again.Lord, grant me Your wisdom.
Ayida drew herself up.“I were goin’ ta take it for safekeepin’.I knew dat Irish rogue had a mind to steal it.”
“Yet he’d never have known where I hid it if not for you.”Caleb’s fist slammed the table.“Rot it, woman, speak truth for once!”
Her shoulders slumped.A weary sigh escaped her.“I’s sorry, Capitaine.It were de Marquis.He promise me island and crown if I bring him de Ring.”
“Montverre.”Caleb’s jaw clenched.“The devil’s spawn never tires of meddling.”He took a menacing step forward.“How long have you been his spy?”
