Journey of the Wind

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  “Good morning to you too, Louis,” Renaud said politely. He was sitting forward

  over his desk with his hands folded, fingers entwined on the felt desk blotter. “Did you

  perhaps omit a few pertinent details to me when you asked my help, old friend?”

  Louis’ scowl deepened. “What pertinent details are you babbling about, Renaud?”

  “Oh I don’t know,” Renaud said, sitting back, his folded hands now clasped over

  his trim belly. “Like the fact that the man you sent me after—”

  “The man I told you to bring back in shackles!” Louis shouted, swinging his gaze

  from Alsandair to Kyle, not sure which man he should be glaring at but knowing it

  wasn’t the middle-aged one sitting before Renaud’s desk. He knew that had to be the

  captain of the Mary Constance.

  “The man you sent me after,” Renaud continued as though he hadn’t been rudely

  interrupted, “who had his wife stolen from him by your little brother?”

  “That’s neither here nor there!” Louis snapped.

  “Or that that wife was Joined to him on the high seas by a licensed captain?”

  Dark brows speckled with a hint of gray clashed over Louis’ curved beak of a nose.

  “What the fuck are you talking about, Renaud?” he growled.

  “Captain Andelton?” Renaud said politely.

  Andelton got to his feet with a slight bow. “I am Captain Drake Andelton, formerly

  of the Mary Constance. If you will check my ship’s log, you will find that I married

  Alsandair Farrell—” he turned to sweep a hand toward the man he’d named “—and

  Rylee McCourtland on the twelfth day of December of this year. We were at

  longitude—”

  “I don’t give a diseased rat’s prick where you were!” Louis thundered. His enraged

  glare was aimed at Alsandair who refused to lower his eyes to the man, even when

  Louis jabbed a stubby finger toward him. “You are a dead man, Farrell!”

  “I would remind you, Captain Corsair,” Renaud said in a voice devoid of

  politeness, “that you are onboard the Perdu and not one of your ships. I will not have

  you speaking to one of my officers in that manner.”

  Louis took a step back, his mouth dropping open. “One of your officers?” he

  repeated, his face taking on a red hue that did not bode well for his health.

  “Commander Farrell has signed on as my chief tactical officer,” Renaud said

  smoothly. “With his many years of service as an Anlusian Guard—”

  187

  Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  “Are you listening to what the fuck you are saying, Renaud?” Louis demanded, his

  face redder than ever. His hands were opening and closing into meaty fists at his side.

  “This man has insulted my family honor and you hire him to some trumped-up post

  I’ve never heard of?”

  Renaud smiled pleasantly, tilting his head to one side in question. “How, may I ask

  you, has he insulted your family honor, Louis?”

  Louis sputtered, unable to answer that question. He swept his rage over Alsandair

  in an effort to cower the younger man but Farrell simply held his gaze with no

  expression on his face whatsoever.

  “Who dared sponsor that whelp into our trade?” Louis managed to ask.

  “I did,” Renaud answered, though he knew damned well Louis had already figured

  that out.

  “You are a traitor, Noel Renaud,” Louis flung at him.

  “Have I now been added to the list of those who have insulted your family honor?”

  Renaud asked.

  “You know fucking well what it is you’ve done, you sorry little shit!” Louis hissed.

  “I put forth to you, Louis,” Renaud said, drawing Louis’ attention back to him, “as I

  will put it before the Brotherhood, that it is your family—Andre in particular and you to

  a certain point—who have insulted Commander Farrell’s honor. If anyone should

  demand redress, it is he.”

  “What?” Louis bellowed.

  “Andre took this gentleman’s lawful wife from him and brought her here to the

  Cay, asking—at your demand and under threat of taking the lady from his custody

  until he did as you ordered—the Brotherhood to set aside her high seas Joining before

  the gods of the deep and wed her to himself. But you were not satisfied with that, Louis.

  You went after Farrell with the express intent of murdering him.”

  “Damned straight I did,” Louis snarled, “and I would have had not that bastard son

  of mine come yipping at my heels like a lovesick terrier to blow a hole in my fucking

  ship!”

  Captain Andelton and Kyle exchanged a look. They knew Corsair had not realized

  what deep, dark secret he had unwittingly revealed in his anger. Renaud though did

  and quickly changed the subject.

  “Farrell has signed on with me and will go before the Brotherhood and take his

  Oath to them before the day is out. He will then be setting out with me tomorrow on the

  morning tide to make his first run as one of us. When we return, he will go before the

  Brotherhood again and ask that his Joining to the lady in question be recognized.”

  “Won’t happen! Won’t fucking happen!” Louis bellowed. “The Brotherhood will

  never set aside Andre’s Joining. Never!”

  “Perhaps not, but as his sponsor I will accompany him to the Council and advise

  him as I see fit.”

  188

  Journey of the Wind

  No one had noticed the man who had slipped quietly into the cabin until he spoke.

  “Is he going to strike for Se Tenir Conjointement?” Andre Corsair asked quietly.

  Every eye turned to Andre. Every man there—including Alsandair—winced at the

  battered sight the man presented.

  “By the gods he’d better not!” Louis roared. He took a step toward Andre. “You let

  me handle this.”

  Andre could barely walk and the wagon ride into town had all but taken its toll on

  him. He felt as though he’d been rolled down a high escarpment of jagged rocks to land

  in the middle of a field of broken glass. Making his way to the chair beside Captain

  Andelton’s, he sat down gingerly, holding a hand to his side where his ribs were

  throbbing brutally.

  “You should be in bed, Andre,” Renaud said, putting his hands on the desk once

  more. “I’d no idea Louis beat you this badly or I would have insisted we come to you to

  settle this matter.”

  “He got what he deserved,” Louis snapped.

  Andre ignored Renaud and Louis. He was looking at Alsandair. “Will you?” he

  asked. When Louis would have protested again, he cursed at the man the world

  thought to be his older brother in their native language. “Damnez-vous à l’enfer. Laissez-

  moi manipuler mes propres affaires. Je suis un homme pas un enfant!”

  “Damn you to hell too, you evil little fuck!” Louis threw at Andre. “And aye you

  are a child and certainly not a grown man acting the way you’ve been acting!”

  “And how is that, Louis?” Renaud inquired mildly.

  “Like a mewling schoolboy sniffing after his first cunt!”

  Almost in unison both Andre and Alsandair said the exact same words, “My wife

  isn’t a cunt!”

  Both Andre and Alsandair flinched. The two men stared at one another and

  something passed between them of which no one else in the room was aware. In that

&nb
sp; moment they each defended the woman they loved, a tenuous truce was laid down, an

  unspoken understanding grudgingly given and reluctantly accepted, one to the other.

  “You didn’t answer me, Farrell,” Andre said. “Are you going to seek Se Tenir

  Conjointement?”

  “How would he even know of it?” Louis demanded then narrowed his eyes,

  growling like a cornered beast at Renaud. “Unless you told him.”

  “I would like to speak to these two men in private,” Renaud said, and when Louis

  opened his mouth to shout, he shook his head. “This is not your decision, Louis. This is

  Andre’s.”

  “Go home, Louis,” Andre said in a tired voice. “Renaud’s right. This doesn’t

  concern you.”

  Kyle came from behind the desk and both he and Andelton headed for the door.

  Neither man looked back as they left. For a moment Louis stood his ground but after a

  189

  Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  prolonged glare at Andre, threw his hands into the air and stomped out, slamming the

  door savagely behind him.

  “That man would try the patience of a saint,” Renaud said as Louis’ heavy footsteps

  crashed up the companionway.

  “I am fully convinced he was put on this earth simply to torment me,” Andre said

  and put a hand to his aching head.

  “You want some water, Andi?” Renaud inquired.

  “Please.”

  It was Alsandair who went to the sideboard and poured his rival a tumbler of

  water. He glanced at Renaud who declined the silent offer then brought the tumbler to

  Andre.

  “Thank you,” Andre mumbled.

  Alsandair didn’t reply. At Renaud’s urging, he took the chair vacated by Andelton.

  “I want the two of you to just sit there and hear me out before you speak,” Renaud

  said. “What is decided here today won’t be cast in stone but it needs discussing and

  you’re both intelligent men. You can discuss this as adults.”

  Andre nodded, leaned his head on the chair back and closed his eyes.

  Renaud leaned back in his chair. “I have never had the pleasure of meeting the lady

  in question, but for her to have two such powerful men fighting over her, she must

  truly be a beauty.”

  “She is,” Alsandair said.

  “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Andre agreed.

  “And you both must love her beyond all that is holy to put yourselves through

  this.”

  “I’ve loved her for seven years,” Alsandair admitted.

  “I loved her the moment I saw her through my spyglass.”

  Renaud let out a long breath. “How does she feel toward you, Sandair?”

  Alsandair’s hands were clenched on the chair arms. “When last I saw her, she loved

  me as I do her.”

  “She still does,” Andre said, opening his eyes and turning his head so he could look

  Alsandair in the eye. “But she has come to love me as well.”

  “In less than two weeks’ time?” Alsandair challenged.

  “Would you have me lie to you and say she hates my guts?” Andre asked.

  “It would make me feel a helluva lot better if you did.”

  Andre smiled wanly. “Sorry, but I’m afraid you’ll have to suffer along with me.”

  “Have you…?” Alsandair began and couldn’t finish.

  “You know I have,” Andre answered, and closed his eyes again to the blinding pain

  ripping at his skull.

  190

  Journey of the Wind

  “Are you having one of your headaches?” Renaud asked.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Andre replied. “Let’s just get on with this.”

  “You have migraines?” Alsandair inquired.

  Andre opened one eye. “You?”

  “Aye.”

  “Figures,” he said, and closed his eye again.

  “Se Tenir Conjointement, ” Renaud said, “is the only solution. The lady will never be

  allowed to leave Wicklaw Cay and if you were to attempt to abscond with her, Farrell,

  the entire might of the Brotherhood would fall on your head.” He smiled at Alsandair.

  “That’s a headache you certainly don’t want.”

  “I’ve seen it happen and it ain’t a pretty sight,” Andre asserted.

  “Six months with him and six months with you,” Renaud said. “But then there is

  one other alternative.”

  Andre forced his eyes open. He could barely see out of his right eye anyway, Louis’

  right cross had taken care of that. “We could duel,” he said.

  “You could and if by some strange quirk of fate and odd alignment of the planets

  Farrell should win, Louis would gut him before the day was out and the lady would be

  fair game to any man who lusted after her. And if she is as lovely as you two say she is,

  that might well be three-fourths of the Cay, myself included.”

  “You don’t have much faith in a man you’ve hired on as your chief tactical officer,”

  Andre said with a chuckle that made him wince as he felt the sting of his split lip.

  “I’m good with a blade, Corsair,” Alsandair said. “He’s never seen me fight.”

  “Mayhap, but you forget I’ve already fought you once and you were only fair to

  middling,” Andre reminded him. “I can take you easily even with two broken ribs.”

  “I tripped,” Alsandair defended himself.

  Renaud shook his head at the exchange. They were like little boys, but he liked

  them both and he didn’t want to see either lose his life over a woman.

  “We’ll leave on the morning tide tomorrow and when we come back, Sandair will

  petition the Brotherhood for Se Tenir Conjointement.” He looked from one man to the

  other. “Is that agreeable?”

  “Shouldn’t you ask Rylee?” Alsandair asked.

  “I mentioned that ancient law to her last night,” Andre said. “She thought it sinful.”

  “That sounds like Rylee,” Alsandair sighed.

  “She thinks she’s sinful for wanting the both of us.”

  Alsandair nodded. “Aye, that she would.”

  “Do you think she would accept the law?” Renaud pressed.

  191

  Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  Andre shrugged, wishing he hadn’t for his ribs grated on one another. He pressed

  his palm tighter to them. “She was more concerned that I not go after Farrell and just let

  him be. She wanted him kept safe at all cost.”

  Alsandair smiled. “That sounds like her too.”

  “It’s the only way, gentlemen,” Renaud insisted. “Is it to be Se Tenir Conjointement?”

  Andre had already decided to strike for the old law even before Devin Boucharde

  had arrived to tell him he was needed on Captain Renaud’s ship. He wanted to take the

  shadows from Rylee’s eyes, the pain from her heart. The moment he saw Boucharde, he

  had a good idea what was happening down at the Perdu.

  “I see no other way and I’ll not cause her any more grief,” Andre said. “I will agree

  to it.”

  “Sandair?” Renaud inquired.

  “Do I have a choice?” Alsandair asked, his jaw tightening.

  “Not really,” Renaud replied.

  Alsandair asked Andre if Rylee knew he was on the Cay.

  “Not yet. I didn’t tell her why I was being ordered to Renaud’s ship. I left her and

  Gaston playing chess on the veranda. Gaston must have known what was up but he

  won’t have told her.”

  “I’d like to see her befo
re this is done,” Alsandair said. “This is her life we’re

  deciding.”

  “You’re right,” Andre agreed. “She should be told and allowed to—” He stopped,

  putting his hand to his temple. His head suddenly felt as though an elf was inside his

  skull picking away at his brain with a dull blade.

  “You need to lie down,” Renaud said, coming to his feet and around the desk. He

  wasn’t in the least surprised Alsandair was right beside him. “Help me get him over to

  my bunk.”

  “I’m okay,” Andre protested, but made no attempt to keep the men from helping

  him to his feet and over to the bunk. He sat down and leaned back, letting Renaud lift

  his legs up to the mattress.

  “Look in the top drawer of my desk on the right side,” Renaud told Alsandair.

  “There is a vial of tenerse there.”

  “By the gods I hate that shit, Renaud,” Andre complained.

  “So do I, but it serves its purpose,” Alsandair told him.

  It was after Andre had been given a fairly stiff dose of the purple-colored liquid

  that Louis burst through the door, his eyes wide and his teeth clenched together.

  “She’s gone,” he said without preamble, his attention going immediately to Andre.

  “What the fuck did you do to…?”

  “Migraine,” Renaud said. “Who’s gone?”

  192

  Journey of the Wind

  Alsandair didn’t have to ask. He started toward Louis but came up short when

  Renaud put out a stiff arm as immobile as a tree branch. He ran into it and bounced off,

  cursing as he stumbled back.

  “Rylee?” Andre murmured, the tenerse already taking fast hold of his

  consciousness. He tried to get up but the room cantered off to one side and he pitched

  headlong into darkness, sinking down into the soothing waves of the drug.

  “Where is my wife?” Alsandair shouted, trying to get around Renaud to Louis.

  “She’s been taken,” Louis said, and turned his eyes to Renaud. “And Gaston is

  dead.”

  193

  Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was only a quarter of a mile from the docks to L’endroit Sûr and the men who

  made that short trek ran full-out the entire way. It had not occurred to any of them to

  take time to find a horse to take them there. With Louis and Renaud leading the way,

  Alsandair and Kyle close behind them, it was a grim-faced, frightened and angry