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. He liked to light hempen fuses when he went into battle, where he would appear to smoke and nearly burn, an image that filled the hearts of his opponents with terror.
“I saw the man clearly with my spyglass. He has a fine ship. A frigate. He’s modified her, but she still can’t handle the shallows as a good sloop can. I might have been outgunned, so I did not draw so great a vessel against me. And perhaps he has heard that my reputation is beginning to equal that of any wretch upon the seas, for he had no taste for battle, either. He caught the wind with his mighty sails, and he was gone. He knew he’d find no mercy from me.”
“A frigate,” Red said. She loved her sloop, but a frigate…was huge. It could carry tons of powder, shot and guns. It could not give chase into the shallows or maneuver narrow channels. But it the open, it was deadly.
“You need to be staying away from him,” Teach said.
“You know why I cannot.” She met his eyes and asked, “Where did you see him?”
“He was heading north along the coast. I daresay he will hover near the towns and cities where he is honored by the British. Word is that he is looking for you, too. He believes that you stole one of his most valuable possessions.”
“How can anyone honor such a man? I do not believe the people can possibly know what a heinous murderer he is.”
He caught her hand. “One man kills, and he is a hero. Another kills, and he is a monster. It depends on which side of the battle line one is standing. You are a monster to some. When a man doesn’t see something with his own eyes, he doesn’t know what is truth, so he believes what becomes legend. Ah, come, girl. The average man wants only to live in peace, so he prays that conflict will not come his way. He is willing to accept the truth of what he is told is the rightful law rather than fight for anything that might disturb his world. Your monster is considered a great military commander by those with whom he does his business in England and the colonies. All anyone there knows is that he helped win the day for King William of Orange and the great empire. Had the war been lost, he would have gone down in history as an ogre. But the English crown was triumphant, and therefore, he is an honored man. Such is history, poppet. It’s the deceit I loathe. I don’t set out to kill a man. I do so because he is in my way and won’t get out of it. My reputation is far worse than my deeds. I prefer scaring a man into surrender. Sadly, there are good men out there ready to die for honor. I don’t relish killing them. And unlike Blair Colm, I do not butcher women and children.”
“As far as
“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. He liked to light hempen fuses when he went into battle, where he would appear to smoke and nearly burn, an image that filled the hearts of his opponents with terror.
“I saw the man clearly with my spyglass. He has a fine ship. A frigate. He’s modified her, but she still can’t handle the shallows as a good sloop can. I might have been outgunned, so I did not draw so great a vessel against me. And perhaps he has heard that my reputation is beginning to equal that of any wretch upon the seas, for he had no taste for battle, either. He caught the wind with his mighty sails, and he was gone. He knew he’d find no mercy from me.”
“A frigate,” Red said. She loved her sloop, but a frigate…was huge. It could carry tons of powder, shot and guns. It could not give chase into the shallows or maneuver narrow channels. But it the open, it was deadly.
“You need to be staying away from him,” Teach said.
“You know why I cannot.” She met his eyes and asked, “Where did you see him?”
“He was heading north along the coast. I daresay he will hover near the towns and cities where he is honored by the British. Word is that he is looking for you, too. He believes that you stole one of his most valuable possessions.”
“How can anyone honor such a man? I do not believe the people can possibly know what a heinous murderer he is.”
He caught her hand. “One man kills, and he is a hero. Another kills, and he is a monster. It depends on which side of the battle line one is standing. You are a monster to some. When a man doesn’t see something with his own eyes, he doesn’t know what is truth, so he believes what becomes legend. Ah, come, girl. The average man wants only to live in peace, so he prays that conflict will not come his way. He is willing to accept the truth of what he is told is the rightful law rather than fight for anything that might disturb his world. Your monster is considered a great military commander by those with whom he does his business in England and the colonies. All anyone there knows is that he helped win the day for King William of Orange and the great empire. Had the war been lost, he would have gone down in history as an ogre. But the English crown was triumphant, and therefore, he is an honored man. Such is history, poppet. It’s the deceit I loathe. I don’t set out to kill a man. I do so because he is in my way and won’t get out of it. My reputation is far worse than my deeds. I prefer scaring a man into surrender. Sadly, there are good men out there ready to die for honor. I don’t relish killing them. And unlike Blair Colm, I do not butcher women and children.”
“As far as
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