Page 51 of Mardon

“Really, Grandmother. I can’t believe you just did that,” said Aaron. “You could have at least used your ladle instead.”

“My ladle is bent and I’m still waitin’ for one of ye fools to fix it. I canna believe that two brothers are squabblin’ like children. What is this all about?”

“Mardon’s changing course,” said Aaron. “We’re going after the girl now instead of chasing after the treasure.”

That didn’t set right with the crew and they started mumbling their protests.

“What do ye have to say about this, Mardon?” asked Nairnie.

“I say I’m captain and quartermaster, too. Therefore, we’re going after the French ship.”

“I thought Aaron was quartermaster,” said Nairnie.

“Not anymore. Now, everyone get back to your posts. We’ve got a ship to catch and goods to plunder.”

“Ye mean we’re not only goin’ after the girl, but we’ll get booty as well?” asked Goldtooth, seeming to like the idea.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” answered Mardon. “You were all ready to raid the French ship before and I stopped you. Well, now you’ll get your chance. Just be careful not to harm Emmaline. I want her back on this ship unscathed.”

“What about the others on that ship?” asked Coop, raring for a good fight.

“We’ll take what we want, and only kill those who are trying to kill us,” Mardon explained. “If even one of them comes after you with a weapon . . . kill him.”

“That’ll be all of them,” shouted one of the crew, sending them all into a happy frenzy.

“Mayhap we should claim the ship as well,” said someone else.

“Nay. Not this time. The Falcon is bigger and faster. We don’t need their ship, just the plunder,” said Mardon.

“Well, why didn’t you say all this in the first place?” asked Aaron. “If you had, I wouldn’t have had to hit you at all.”

“Mmph,” grunted Mardon, steering the ship, looking out to sea.

“Does this mean I can have the position of quartermaster back?”

“Do you want it?”

“Why not?”

“It’s yours.” The men shook on it, and just as fast as the fight started, it ended between the brothers.

“Men, prepare the grappling hooks and ropes,” called out Aaron. “We’ve got a ship to board and booty that’s waiting.” The men cheered again and started to rush around the ship doing as ordered.

“Wait,” Mardon called out. “There is one man on that ship named Jean Philippe. He carries a whip. No one touches him, because that bastard is all mine!”

Chapter 12

Emmaline watched her husband kissing and pawing his mistresses on the other side of the ship, and felt as if she were going to retch. Jean Philippe was a horrible man and she didn’t want to be married to him, let alone ever see him again.

He’d taken the rolled-up painting from her earlier and she’d seen him put it in his cabin. All that mattered to Emmaline was that no one ever looked at that naked painting of her again. She had to get it and destroy it, even if it ruined her chances of clearing her name in England and marrying in her homeland. With her husband still alive, that dream came to an end either way.

Sneaking off to the cabin, she slipped inside, seeing the painting on the table. Now that her father was dead, there would be no one to help her clear her name. It no longer mattered if she showed proof that this painting would never surface again or not. She had no way to get the painting to King Edward. Emmaline’s life was doomed. She figured she’d try to escape Jean Philippe once they reached France. She would do anything in her power to disappear before he thought to touch her again.

With tears in her eyes, she picked up the painting, unrolling it to take one last look at the deed that had ruined her life. Tears dripped down her cheeks. How did things ever get so out of hand?

“No one will ever lay eyes on this again,” she vowed, walking over to a lit candle and setting it on fire. Just as she did, the door to the cabin burst open and there stood Jean Philippe.

“What the hell are you doing?” he screamed. “Give me that!” He hurried into the room, leaving the door open behind him.