The man who had killed Francine could not take his eyes from Alexis as she turned her head, leaning her cheek against Pauley’s back, and stared at him.
Alexis’s eyes closed briefly as she felt the strip of leather crease her back. She whispered to Pauley not to be afraid, that she could stand it, that she wanted to stand it. She pleaded with him to hang onto life until vengeance would be theirs. She felt the sticky wetness on her back as Travers brought down the whip again and again. She bit her lip, tasting blood, so she would not cry out. Her hair was plastered to her back as sweat mingled with the ruby creases every stroke made. She forced herself to remain conscious, wanting to remember every nuance of pain the captain was inflicting upon her. She would need that memory to keep her going in the days, possibly months, ahead. Tears sprang to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. They were at first tears of pain, but they were fed by sadness, horror, and outrage. She could not stop the involuntary moan that came to her lips. She lost count of the strokes. She was ready to lose reality when suddenly it stopped.
Travers threw down the whip. The pain from his wounded arm was burning him, distracting him. The movement as he wielded the whip had caused blood to flow rapidly and he began to feel weak from the effort. He had stopped at ten, when he heard her moan. That was enough for him. It was all he’d wanted from the beginning—to hear the girl cry out once. She could have saved herself a lot of pain if she had given in earlier. He had never intended to give her the full count. But she had lasted and damn near killed him in the process.
He held his wound, trying to stop the flow with pressure, and barked at his men. “Leave them all! We’ll get the ships we want and get off this island.” The men did not move immediately. They were still staring at the girl’s back. She was not crying out or moving, but they knew she was alive by her erratic breathing and by the rasping sounds coming from her throat. They hated Travers for what he had done and they hated themselves for not stopping it.
One of them moved forward to untie Alexis but Travers stood in his way. “No. Leave her. Let’s get out of here before the entire settlement discovers what has happened.”
They started to move, all except Francine’s murderer. He was still, held prisoner by the amber eyes that were open now but glazed over by tears. When the lids closed over them he felt as if he had been freed and in that instant he knew what he wanted to do. He leaped forward, toward his captain’s unprotected back, and threw himself on him.
Travers was not caught completely off guard; he had been suspecting the man would do something since he had first walked out of the house. Something had happened in there, and he did not think it was only the death of the woman.
Instinctively Travers knew when the moment was about to take place and he was ready. In spite of his weakened condition he managed to draw his pistol, and as the sailor caught him by the shoulders Travers spun and fired into the mutineer’s belly. The man dropped to the ground and Travers faced his three remaining men.
“Don’t any of you entertain the same idea,” he said tightly.
The men looked away and started down the hill, each having the same desire to kill his captain; yet none was willing to risk the consequences if he did not succeed.
Cloud could hardly believe he and Landis were still alive. Alexis had saved them by her actions. Travers would never want Landis and him aboard after they had witnessed what happened, and they had not been killed because Travers had had all the carnage even he could tolerate in one day.
Cloud slid closer to Landis. They began working on their ropes. The first officer managed to free himself and then he untied his captain and together they raced to Alexis. She was alive, but barely. When Cloud freed her hands, she slid down Pauley’s slippery back before he could catch her and fell in a crumpled heap at his feet. He was about to pick her up and take her into the house when Landis stopped him.
“He’s dead, Captain. He was probably dead before she tried to save him.”
Alexis looked up at the man who was speaking. She forced herself to answer him. “He died while I was asking him to go on living. He died in my arms.” Sobs racked her body and Cloud reached down for her but she pushed him away. Every sob, every pained breath her body took, gave her additional strength.
Cloud and Landis could not hide their surprise when she got to her feet. She wavered only slightly as another spasm of pain gripped her body. She looked down at Pauley’s lifeless form, then over at George. She remembered Francine in the house. Then she remembered all of them as they had been only an hour ago. Happy. Excited. Her anniversary. Pauley coming to see her. Life in the crow’s nest where no one could touch her. She noticed that the two men were watching her curiously. It was obvious they thought she was half mad. And perhaps she was, she thought.
Hadn’t she been half mad to believe there was a place where she could not be hurt? Hadn’t she let George and Francine soften her with their well-meaning love and protection? Hadn’t she let Pauley make a decision to bring her to them in the first place? It was a decision she hadn’t liked but one she’d allowed herself to accept. It was a decision on his part that was made out of concern and love for a small girl. And she had learned to love them all.
And now, the only people who had ever shown her any affection were dead. The pain that gripped her back was insignificant compared to the pain of losing Pauley, George, and Francine.
Alexis staggered toward the crow’s nest, falling to her knees before she made it half the distance and crawling the remainder of the way.
She looked out over the cove, aware of the two men at her side, and she wondered if they thought she was going to throw herself over the cliff. Didn’t they know she had a reason to live? Didn’t they suspect?
The sky and water blended into a singular blue line on the horizon. Alexis stared straight ahead and made the promise that would guide her future.
Chapter 3
The meeting had been over for less than an hour. As Cloud built a fire in the hearth of his kitchen he cursed himself for ever telling them so much. He should have known from the beginning there was no way to make them alter their plans to meet Alex.
“She made two promises that day,” he had told them quietly. “Only one of them affects what you are proposing.” The other affected him, its nature intensely personal. “She promised she would find Travers and kill him. She vowed she would live on the sea until she had him at her mercy.”
He had paused then, to allow them to consider what he had said. When he continued his voice became progressively harder. “Alex Danty is on a personal mission. She will never join us. She is after only one man and if she finds him she will stop. She doesn’t kill or plunder. She offers men liberty from impressment because she happens to find them before Travers. It was never her purpose to do it, and freeing them is not what sustains her. If she joined us she would be losing time from her pursuit. Our goal is not hers.”
Although they had listened, they had not accepted it. They continued to talk as if they would be able to persuade her to join them. When Cloud questioned their ability to do so, Howe played his ace.
“She may not be an American citizen,” he said. “But she is a pirate. We can hang her for that. We’ll offer her a pardon in exchange for her assistance.”
“You have no grounds. She’s not a pirate. She has never so much as threatened an American ship.”
“But she’s been attacking British vessels without the sanction of our government. The British could interpret that as instigating war.”
“But she is British.”
“They don’t know that, Captain. We didn’t know it ourselves until today. And reports have it that three of those ships she sank went down within the territorial limits of the United States. It puts our government in a rather awkward position.”
