There is nothing worse for a pirate than dying on dry land. Except, maybe, swinging two feet above it.
When their captain is imprisoned, facing the gallows, the men and women of the Lady Lesya's crew will try everything to break him out--even if it...
"The trick is to keep the sun behind you as you make your approach," said Logan, coming closer. The old captain sat next to the bars and Etienne finally discovered the face behind the voice. He had thick eyebrows over puffy eyes and a bulbous nose. He was also completely bald, except for a bushy ribbon running from the back of his skull to above his ears. From there, his ashen hair merged with impressive side whiskers.
"I know," agreed Etienne. "I used that once or twice." He sat on the sandy floor, leaned against his side of the bars and start rubbing his feet to bring some heat back into the toes. "But the maneuver is delicate. It needs patience and a lot of luck. And, if I can be honest, I always thought it was a craven move."
"You're mistaking stealth and slyness for cowardice. I think your youth is to blame, Desjours. That, and the fact you never had to catch a ferocious rooster."
Etienne couldn't restrain the grunt he used as a laugh. The man was all about his poultry farming. "But I did! French privateers are as ruthless as the stupid animal my dear compatriots often choose for a symbol."
His neighbor made an indistinct sound. "Roosters aren't stu—"
A sudden change of light put an abrupt and unfortunate end to such a profound debate. Both pirates got back to their feet—more or less swiftly—and Etienne instinctively threw his hands on his hips, looking for his missing sabers. A shadow holding a torch stopped in front of Logan's cell.
"Dad, come on! We don't have much time!"
The flame reflected in the long, greasy black hair of a young man. His eyes were hidden under messy strands, but a thin, sharp nose poked out.
"Card!" exclaimed Logan. "About damn time! What took you so long, you half-wit?"
The kid—he looked even younger than Flow—didn't even pause. Holding the torch dangerously close to his head in one hand, he kept looking for the right key among the bunch he held in the other.
"I had better things to do," he replied in a bored voice. "But I can go back the way I came if you'd like."
His father turned toward Etienne. "D'you hear that? Ha! Kids! No respect these days."
Etienne didn't even have time to growl before Card opened the heavy door of Logan's cell.
"Hurry now, oh precious father," he retorted apathetically.
Oblivious or unaware of the heavy irony in his son's voice, Logan come closer to the bars and held out his hand. "It was a real pleasure, Captain! I hope our paths will cross again."
Of course! A lively conversation about sailing and poultry was not a sufficient reason to set a stranger free. It was too much of a risk and Etienne would have done the same. Yet, he grabbed the extended wrist and held it tight. "Wait," he said calmly.
"When you're done with your secret pirate handshake, maybe we could go. Like out of here. Someday," grumbled Card.
Not letting go of Logan's arm, Etienne went on. "Even if you get out of this place, you'll have nowhere to go. You lost your ship, probably your men too. It won't be long before you'll hang. But I have a ship." He turned his head to face the kid. "Let me out and you'll be welcomed on board. Both of you!"
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