Legends of the Vengeance : The First Adventure (9781310742866) Read Free Page A

in the water. “Wha—”
    “Just get me aboard and fire the gun.”
    The moment he swung his tired, soaked body over the side of the ship, Giorgio asked,
“We’re leaving?”
    “Now! Someone must swim to call Hector
Castillo to the boat. Who will go?” Nicolo’s eyes swept over the
men before him.
    Without hesitation, one younger man pulled
his boots off and jumped overboard. They all watched anxiously
until he surfaced again and began swimming. By the time he reached
the docks, several men from their crew, running to the rowboat,
paused only long enough to hear that they were indeed leaving.
    Satisfied that they could leave within the
hour, Nicolo hurried to his cabin to plan their escape. Would it be
worth the risk to stop at Malta? Valletta would have everything
they needed. Or, was it too close? Would Signorina Lucia—she
was probably Signora now—send someone to chase? Did she have
the resources? The power? Would she send word to his family? Had
she recognized what he must be?
    He shook his head to clear it. This was all
unnecessary and irrelevant. He must plan. Jaime would know best.
Eduardo would bluster a bit, make alternate suggestions, and
finally agree to whatever Jaime suggested. They had no time for
power games. Malta or straight to Tunis?
    He stuck his head outside the door. “Get me
Mac.”
    Feet scuttled in the direction of the
galley, giving him satisfaction in how swiftly his men obeyed
orders. That one thing had kept them alive more than anything else.
Well, he also had a fierce determination to keep Sebastian alive
and yet did not care whether he lived or died. It was a dangerous
combination, or so Jaime always told him.
    A knock sounded before Mac opened the door.
“You called for me, Cap’in?” Most of the men found the Scotsman’s
thick brogue difficult to understand, but Nicolo had a secret
liking for it.
    “Yes. How long can we survive on what we
have on ship now?”
    “On board? Why I dinna ken… mebbe a
fortnight? Three weeks at most, I’m thinkin’.”
    “That’ll do. Good. Water. Send another boat
for more water and wine though. Go now. They have thirty minutes to
get back here with whatever they can.”
    “Thirty minutes? They canna do much—”
    “Do you think I don’t know that, you blind
fool? Get out there and send them. We hoist anchor soon. Go.”
    To an outsider, the ship would have appeared
to be lost in chaos. Men raced from side to side, the crew that had
not yet had a chance to make it to port heard the news with a
general rumble of disbelief and anger. Nicolo stood in his cabin,
listening to Giorgio’s report, his fingers rolling his telescope on
the desk as he thought. “I’ll be back. Stay here. I might need
you.”
    He raced below deck to where the men were
settling the oars of the Xebec into place, shouting their
displeasure with threats even Nicolo knew they didn’t mean. “I
understand you are dissatisfied with your position on this
ship.”
    “We didn’t get a chance at shore!” one man
protested.
    “I got very little time there
myself—certainly none of pleasure. However, we must leave
immediately. The lad is in danger here. If you wish to go, I will
pay you off and you can leave immediately, but we sail within the
hour.”
    As if magic, the words, “the lad is in
danger,” calmed the men immediately. They settled into their
places, stretched, took great swigs of wine, and assured him that
all would be well.
    Only one man asked to leave—one that Nicolo
had suspected would never return to the crew once he reached land.
Nicolo led the man to his cabin and told him to wait outside. He
had Giorgio watch as he counted out every piece of gold and silver
the sailor was entitled to and then put away the rest. “Come
in.”
    Twice they counted the coins, ensuring that
the man was satisfied. The man struck his name from the articles of
the ship and made his mark beside the line, acknowledging his
removal from their boat. Nicolo nodded to both men