Isaac nodded, but instead of immediately complying, he stared at Vashon, his expression troubled.
"Don't think about Aurora, Vashon," he finally said.
The statement seemed to surprise Vashon. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying, watch your back. Don't be distracted and we'll win this war. It will seem like you must look out for Aurora first, but if you don't, you'll be better off. Watch your back, Vashon, as you always have. It's the only way to save both yourself and Aurora." As if embarrassed by his outburst, Isaac turned a worried gaze down at the docks of Hugh Town. "That was a foolish thing she did. I hope to God she's not dead already."
Vashon's eyes filled with hatred and agony. In a voice as solemn as a prayer he said, "If she is, then he'll take me too."
He left without a farewell.
Chapter Thirty
The Troy-fair maze consisted of little better than large rocks arranged in concentric circles on the peak of a hill. Aurora looked around, the indigo waters of Porthcressa to her right; to her left the dramatic boulders of Peninnis. Across St. Mary's Sound, the off-islands of Gugh and St. Agnes were barely visible in the mist; nowhere were there any tombs. She continued climbing, through fields of crimson clover and blooming white thrift. When she next looked up, the only structure that broke the desolate scenery was a crumbling stone enclosure that held a wretched copse of elms.
She went atop the ridge of moor and stared at the ancient crumbling walls, unsure of how to proceed. The elms were almost frightening, for where they grew above the protection of the wall, they'd become gnarled and wind pruned, like the fantasy trees in the Chinese screens she'd seen at the governor's mansion in Grand Talimen. She couldn't believe her father would live in such a strange place, but she forced aside her doubts and went toward it. Though she feared finding her father dead, she knew it was going to be far worse to find nothing at all and to watch her last chance at restoring her family crumble beneath her hands.
She took a deep breath and entered the walled garden. The purple-brown figwort was so thick it obscured everything but the contorted elms. Here and there a patch of yellow elecampane sprang up to cheer the landscape, but that was a difficult task, especially when she realized the succulent-covered bumps scattered all around were actually large Celtic tombs.
She summoned her bravery and stepped to one, tearing off its overgrown cover. The tomb was pummeled out of granite and looked to have stood since the dawn of time. She stepped quietly to another and a sudden noise frightened her, but it was only a black rabbit scurrying from its disturbed shelter. She smiled at her spooked nerves, but when she walked farther into the copse, her breath came fast and tight within her chest.
She ducked under an elm and noted how dark it had become beneath the low, gnarled trees. She moved forward, the elms growing denser with each step, and came upon a large broken-down tomb hidden among some wild privet. The tomb was the largest of them all, certainly big enough for a man to find shelter there. She bit her lower lip and brushed away the figwort from the front of the tomb. The foliage was so overgrown, she tripped. She looked down to see what had caused her to stumble and made a horrifying discovery—a pair of boots that were most definitely attached to their previous owner, a man who was now nothing more than bones and tattered clothing.
Gasping, she backed away. The dead man had to be her father, yet how would she summon the courage to uncover his body to be sure? Desperately needing
Vashon, she decided to return to the ship, but a pair of hands grabbed her before she could even turn to go.
"How dare you disobey me."
She let out a cry, then almost laughed from relief, recognizing the voice. She spun and threw her arms around Vashon. He held her tightly, but only for a moment, then he pulled back.
"I'll chain you to the figurehead the next time, Aurora. I swear, I'll kill you before I'll see you do something so stupid again."
His harsh words shocked her. She looked at him, for the first time noticing his drawn features, his pale cheeks. He appeared as if he'd just been told everything he'd cherished was gone.
"But I've found him, Vashon. At least," her gaze wandered reluctantly to the spot where she'd discovered the boots, "I think I have."
His gaze followed hers. Leaving her behind, he walked to the body in the figwort and ripped away some of the overgrowth. When he bent to it, his face had the strangest expression, a blend of foreboding joy and dark triumph. He took a faded velvet purse from the skeletal fingers. He opened it and when he stood again, her eyes were drawn to his hand. Even in the dim light beneath the elms, the emerald's brilliance took her breath away. The Star of Aran was exquisite, alight with blue fire, and so large it took up most of Vashon's palm.
"It was he," she said.
" 'Only my daughter will find it'," Vashon repeated, watching her.
"What are you saying?" she whispered, finding tears in her eyes.
"He knew you'd look for him first. Dayne counted on that. You proved to be a good daughter, Aurora."
"But I didn't find him alive. . . ." The words were barely discernible. A sudden irrational grief gripped her, and she began to sob. She hadn't realized how dearly she'd wanted her father back, how desperately she'd wanted to restore what little family she possessed. Now that the hope was gone, she found it almost too much to bear.
"He wouldn't want your sorrow, my love," Vashon whispered against her hair after he took her in his arms.
"But he came to such an ignoble end, and I so wanted to find him. Now I have nothing," she said with a sob.
"No." He caressed her hair and pressed the emerald into her hand. She meant to pull back, to show him that the jewel was poor consolation for her lonely heart, but he wouldn't let her go. When her tearful gaze locked with his and he had her full attention, he whispered, "You will always have me."
She stared at him, unable to believe his words. But when his lips pressed against hers, she knew it was true. All her fears that he would abandon her fled with his needful kiss. For the first time since she'd met him, she suddenly felt the dragon might be tamed after all. Certainly if her love could ever do it, she vowed he would never want for more.
'"Aurore," he whispered when they parted, "we've got to get back to the ship now." He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. "Your father left this for you, I imagine. Read it when we're back on the Seabravery." He handed her a letter that was in the velvet purse.
"Wait! I must read it now," she implored and he hadn't the heart to stop her. She devoured the note with her gaze and when she was through, she suddenly felt at peace.
"What did he say to you, mon Aurore!" Vashon asked.
"He said he couldn't come back for me because he was too afraid of Peterborough. He felt I was safer at the Home than running scared with him. He said he loved me, Vashon." She suddenly began to cry again and he held her until her last tears were spent.
"Come. We must return," he said reluctantly when she had recovered. He held out his hand and she took it, feeling an exultant mix of joy and sorrow, especially when she looked in the direction of where her father lay near the Celtic tomb.
"How can I leave until he has a proper burial?" she asked.
"I'll send some men from the ship to shroud his body. When we sail, we'll put him out at sea."
More tears threatened to fall down her cheek. "What happened to him? Why was he so tormented? Why did he come to this wretched end?"
He held her tight. "I suspect he came to the conclusion that what he'd done hadn't been worth it. He'd escaped with the Star, yet in the end he had to sacrifice something even more valuable."
"But what was that? The locket?" she asked, confused.
"No," he answered, his gaze never wavering from her face. "You."
She wiped another tear from her cheek and again felt that odd dichotomy of sorrow and joy.
"We've got to get back. Peterborough is here. He was on the bluff before we got there."
&nb
sp; She gasped, her blood suddenly running cold. "Why did you come after me then? I did this," she fretted. "The locket led him here, and now I've put you in jeopardy. I might lose you too. . . ."
"No." He put two fingers to her lips. "Don't say it. You won't."
She grabbed him to her. "Oh my love, please, we can't let him win now."
"But he's already won," a threatening voice rang out in their midst.
Aurora felt Vashon tense. When he forced her behind him, she stared at the figure standing in the entrance to the tombs. The man looked so much like Vashon, she might have been looking at a mirror. The only difference was that this man obviously took great pains to appear the gentleman: his green frock coat was costly and impeccably restrained; his hair was cropped fashionably close with a touch of gray at the temples that proclaimed him the elder. He was lordly and refined, what Vashon might have been. Aurora stared at Peterborough and could hardly believe that this handsome, civilized-looking man could have really brought such agony to so many lives.
"My good brother, you've found us at last." Vashon took her trembling hand and casually walked toward the entrance. Aurora followed, unsure of what Vashon was going to do.
"The Merry Magdalene is anchored off Porthmellon. We heard from the alehouse in Hugh Town that Aurora had come up here. Of course, I couldn't wait to meet her." Peterborough looked at her and smiled. His eyes were just like his brother's, beautiful and green. Yet Josiah's held a coldness beyond anything she'd ever seen in Vashon's. She wondered how two could look so much alike and yet be so completely different.
"How lovely it is to meet you, Miss Dayne," he continued. "You look like your father, you know, but I daresay, he didn't imagine his daughter would become such a beauty." Josiah smiled again. From his pleasantries, one would have supposed they were meeting for a play at Covent Garden instead of a life-or-death confrontation on a salt-scrubbed moorland.
"I take it you discovered Dayne's note," Vashon said, stilling Aurora's trembling hand.
"Yes, and I'm afraid Aurora here has many questions to answer for me." Peterborough nodded behind him where a veritable battalion of men stood, pistols in hand. A scurvy-looking man stepped forward, obviously the pirate Fontien from the gaudy ruby stuck in his earlobe. He meant to take Aurora, but Vashon pulled her farther behind him.
"You want the emerald, Josiah?" Vashon said. When Peterborough laughed, Vashon opened his palm. The sight of the jewel made everyone gasp. " 'Whosoever possesses the Star of Aran shall see his enemies die.' Isn't that what The Chronicles say, my good brother?"
Peterborough blanched. It took him a moment to collect himself. "You're outnumbered, Vashon. I believe in The Chronicles of Crom Dubh, but in this instance, I cannot see how you'll win."
"Perhaps, but I shall strike a deal with you anyway. Let Aurora go and I'll give you the emerald."
"No!" Aurora cried out.
"Vashon, you must be mad to trust me." Peterborough smiled.
"I don't trust you. But I want Aurora out of this. She should not be involved in our conflict."
"Methinks little Miss Dayne means a great deal to you, Vashon."
"Vashon, don't do this! How can I go free, knowing—"
"Aurora, you will do as I say." Vashon pushed forward, holding the emerald out to Peterborough. "Take it, brother. For her freedom, you may have the Star."
"What are you about, Vashon?" Josiah narrowed his eyes.
"I want her unharmed."
"You've made my life a hell—stealing from me, setting free my property—do you know how much a healthy male slave costs, Vashon?"
"Aye, but I have money and whatever the cost, I shall pay it to see Aurora go unharmed."
"I want you to suffer, Vashon, as I have suffered these years."
"And I have not suffered?" Vashon's control nearly lapsed. He stepped forward, then thought better of it. He stepped back and said, "Let her go, Josiah. This is between us, not her."
Peterborough nodded. "Hand me the emerald then, and I shall consider your request."
"When Aurora is back on the Seabravery."
"All right." Josiah turned to a slight figure, the only other gentleman in the group. "Asher, escort Miss Dayne to Hugh Town." He turned back to Vashon. "Is that enough for you?"
"When I see her go."
Aurora stood mutely by and allowed the young man to take her arm. She wanted to cry out in protest, but after all that had transpired on this adventure, she knew Vashon too well to argue with him now. He obviously had a plan. She just wished she knew what it was.
"I'll see you on the ship, love," he said as they walked past him. She tried to meet his eye, but he refused, as if it were too painful. She was several yards away before she suddenly had the dreadful fear his plan was to truly sacrifice himself for her. When she turned, he would still not meet her gaze, and she nearly went mad from the horror of it.
"Unhand me!" she cried out to the blond young man. She struggled, but he held fast. "Release me! Vashon, don't do this!" she implored, but to no avail. When she began to scratch, Peterborough laughed.
He stepped to them and said to the young man, "You can kill her in whatever manner you like." He then touched Aurora's smooth cheek. "You're enchanting, Miss Dayne. I regret that I'm forced to waste you on Asher here. He won't appreciate you as I could have."
"Oh, but I do appreciate her, Josiah," the man named Asher answered coolly. "In fact, I appreciated Miss Dayne so much that I sent word to the Seabravery that you were coming up here. I've betrayed you, Josiah. How does it feel?"
"You betray me now!" Peterborough gasped.
"You betrayed me on Mirage! You would have shot me to get to him!" Asher put a shaking hand to his pistol. He aimed it at Peterborough. "I could have grown fond of you, Josiah, but you treated me callously, and I will never forgive you for that."
"You buggering coward!" Peterborough raged. "You'll die for this!"
"So be it!" Asher retorted.
In a flash Peterborough lunged and grasped the man's weakly held weapon. Josiah pointed it, obviously not caring if he killed Asher or Aurora first. Seeing that, Vashon's self-restraint ripped apart and he attacked Peterborough in a murderous rage.
Aurora screamed and watched in terror as Vashon and Peterborough tumbled down the moor toward St. Michael's Bluff. Mindless of anything but the need to help him, she ran to them. The other pirates of the Merry Magdalene went to assist Peterborough, but just as Vashon looked outnumbered, the men from the Seabravery appeared on the mount.
The pirates clashed and soon screams of the wounded rang in the air. Aurora heard the rip of stilettos through fabric and the violent scattered explosions of gunshots. She and Asher almost clung to each other as the fight swirled around them. Never had Aurora seen the men of the Seabravery act as pirates, and when Isaac led them in a ferocious war cry, she couldn't fight the chill that ran down her spine. Though they had discipline, Vashon's men were every bit as ruthless as Fontien's men. The fight seemed to go on forever, but it was actually only a few minutes before the wounded, bloody pirates of the Merry Magdalene retreated, taking their dead comrades with them. The losers loped toward Hugh Town, the pirate Fontien forging the path, while the men of the Seabravery prodded them on with their sharp sabers.
That left only Peterborough.
Silhouetted against the misty sky, Vashon and Peterborough were in a grotesque dance on the promontory, fighting each other for the pistol that was in their shared grasp. Desperate to help, Aurora left Asher's side and got within a few feet of Vashon before Isaac pulled her back. In dismay she looked at him, but he only said, "It's their fight. Let them have it."
Aurora turned back to the violent scene being played out on the bluff. The emerald lay on the sand beneath them, a glittering symbol of all they were fighting for.
Though the struggle took only a moment, to Aurora it seemed like an eternity. Finally Vashon got the pistol away from Peterborough and Josiah backed away just inches f
rom the bluff.
"I should kill you," Vashon said, still panting from his struggle.
"Go ahead, Vashon. It's what you've dreamed of," Peterborough spat. "Kill me as I would have killed you."
Aurora could hardly look at the battle of emotions in Vashon's face. He wanted to kill Peterborough, she knew that, but something held him back. That noble side of his just couldn't seem to relinquish him and allow him to shoot his own brother. Out of instinct, she stepped forward, desperate to help him, but Isaac pulled her back.
"Come on, Vashon, pull the trigger. Kill your brother as you have so many others."
Vashon gasped for air. He lifted the pistol higher; his expression frozen in a vicious mask of fury. He was barely a hair's breadth away from pulling the trigger, but then he looked at Aurora.
Their eyes met and he appeared moved by the emotions clearly written on her face. Love, horror, and shame were mixed in her expression, but the greatest of these was love. With that one glance, in the final minute of his revenge against Peterborough, Vashon suddenly seemed to change. It was as if something now meant more to him than his bloodlust for his half brother. Aurora could hardly believe it was true, but finally the dragon in him seemed to be tamed.
Breathing heavily, Vashon lowered the pistol. He stared at Peterborough, hardly able to choke out his words. "If it was ever said that I did a noble deed, then let it be proclaimed that I could not kill my own brother."
Peterborough had obviously seen the reason for Vashon's change of heart. He stared at Aurora, then lunged madly for Vashon's pistol. "If I cannot kill you, Vashon, then I shall get you where you're most vulnerable!" Josiah grabbed the pistol, and while it was still in Vashon's hand, pulled back the hammer and aimed it at Aurora.
Isaac thrust her back but there was no place to take cover in the barren landscape. The captain took out his pistol, yet before he could shoot, the men were once more in a death conflict. With a grunt of rage and terror, Vashon struggled with Josiah to take control of the gun, twisting his body in front of the barrel to shield Aurora. Before anyone could stop him, Peterborough finally had his revenge. He fired the weapon and sent the blast square into Vashon's torso.
Till Dawn Tames the Night Page 35