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“You little bitch,” he snarled. “When I get my hands on you, you can join my father in hell!”

Astria came out from underneath the table on the other side of it. As she watched, Arnaldo reached around behind him and was able to get his hand on the hilt of the dagger. Yanking it free, he roared with agony, but now he had a weapon.

And he was going to use it.

Astria didn’t panic. She remained cool, as cool as she could, trying to calculate how she could get out of that chamber.

Unfortunately, she had backed herself into a corner and there was only one way in, one way out.

She couldn’t even look to see where Maude was because she knew the woman would help her if she could, which meant Maude was fighting her own battles, life or death, against her own son.

Therefore, she picked up a chair to use as both a shield and a weapon, waiting for Arnaldo to come flying over the table at her.

She was ready for him.

And, predictably, he came.

Astria swung the chair at him, as hard as she could, and it crashed over his right shoulder.

He wasn’t able to move his arm very well because of the knife wound, which only served to enrage him.

She scooted away from him as he barreled after her, but as she got to the doorway, an old sailor she recognized appeared.

His name was Blue Death, or Blue. He’d answer to either.

He’d served the San Miguel empire for forty years and Armand had considered him a friend.

He was old and nearly senile, but he was still strong.

He rather liked his young mistress and even served with her shipboard for a few years.

The one thing he did possess, however, was a distinct hatred for Arnaldo because he, too, had heard the rumors that the son had murdered the father.

And he had liked the father. Therefore, when Blue peered inside the Black Cock and saw the fight between Arnaldo and Astria, he came in to help.

And he was armed.

“Ye young pups are all alike,” he growled, holding up a heavy sword with a sharp blade. “All ye want are things that belong tae others. Like yer father. I heard ye killed him, lad. And now ye’re trying to kill his wife.”

Arnaldo came to a halt. He knew Blue. The man could be terrifying. Whenever they boarded an enemy vessel, Blue was the first one on the ship, cutting men’s throats and taking what he wanted. Frankly, Arnaldo was surprised to see him defending Astria.

“Take her a prisoner,” he said, pointing to her. “She’s an outlaw and a thief and she must face my justice. Do it!”

Blue looked at Astria, standing next to him with courage in her eyes. That was all he’d ever seen from the young duchess—courage and a sense of fairness to the men. He’d liked serving her.

But he definitely didn’t like serving Arnaldo.

“I dunna take commands from ye, not no more,” he said. “Come any closer tae her and I’ll kill ye.”

Astria, realizing the old salt was on her side, could do nothing more than stay back or risk injury.

“Have it your way,” Arnaldo said. “But I’ll be back, and when I see you, I’ll punish you, too. Don’t you know she’s not worth saving?”

Blue looked at Astria, instinctively, which was his mistake.

In that moment, Arnaldo flew at him, dagger in hand, and stabbed the man in the chest. Astria darted away, but not before she managed to pick up the sword that Blue had dropped.

As she whirled around, planning to fight her way out of the Black Cock, she ran headlong into Declan, who used the butt of his sword to knock her, hard, on the forehead.

Astria fell to the floor, unconscious.

Maude, who had been behind Astria fighting her own battle, lurched forward to grab one of Astria’s arms, trying to pull her to safety, but Arnaldo was there.

He grabbed Astria’s torso and picked her up, creating a macabre tug-of-war with Maude.

There was so much turmoil and destruction in the common room, with so many men fighting, that Maude lost her grip on Astria when Arnaldo pulled too hard.

Now he had Astria, free and clear.

In a flash, he disappeared into the crowd of fighting men, emerging outside where the fighting was more spread out. As he heaved Astria over his shoulder like a sack of grain, it occurred to him that there were more men out here than he’d originally remembered.

Hundreds more.

Where did they come from?

“I believe that is my wife ye’re holding.”

The statement came from someone off to his left, and he turned to see a very big man standing there.

The Earl of Lismore, and his Blackchurch brethren, had made an appearance.

*

Payne couldn’t believe the luck.

He’d just charged into a mass of fighting men and was making his way into the tavern when a tall, dark-haired man emerged with a body slung over his shoulder. It took Payne all of a split second to realize it was Astria, so he blocked the man’s path.

“Ye heard me,” he said in a low, threatening tone. “Give me my wife and there’ll be no trouble. Deny me and I’ll kill ye.”

The man turned to face him fully, eyeing him unhappily. “And just who are you?”

“I’m Bloody Maude’s son,” Payne said. “Ye need no more explanation than that. Give me my wife. Now .”

The man was confident. Too confident. But Arnaldo had all of the leverage, at least in his mind, so he refused to budge.

He wanted to watch the big Highlander squirm.

In fact, his lips twisted into a smirk, but before he could reply, something hit him from behind.

Something hard and sharp and painful plowed into his back, severing his spine, and he immediately collapsed.

Astria would have fallen to the ground had Payne not caught her.

As it was, she scraped the side of her face on the dirt, but Payne swept her up and away as Cruz gored the man through the back and Creston, right behind Cruz, took off his head with his nasty, serrated blade.

And that was the end of Arnaldo de Fernandez y de San Miguel, Duc de Tarragona.

Dispatched by Blackchurch.

“Let me see her, Payne,” Ming Tang said as Payne ran to the outskirts of the fighting. “Kneel down and hold her against you. Let me look at her head.”

Payne was shaking. He was so distraught at Astria’s state that he could hardly control his emotions. “He must have hurt her,” he said, his voice quivering. “He must have attacked her and I dinna get here in time. Sweet Jesus, dunna let her be badly injured. Is she?”

Ming Tang, who had a knowledge of healing, peeled back both of Astria’s eyelids to gauge her pupil reaction and then felt the pulse in her neck. He was calm and patient, doing what needed to be done, as Payne struggled not to come apart. Finally, he patted Payne on the shoulder.

“She will regain consciousness,” he said. “Do not fret, my friend. She is not badly injured.”

Payne nearly collapsed. He breathed a great sigh of relief, realizing tears were forming in his eyes.

He blinked, trying to keep them away, but the sight of Astria with her scraped face was too much for him.

He let the tears fall, just for a moment.

It was a brief show of emotion that was just as quickly gone.

He didn’t have the luxury of wallowing over it.

His mother was still inside, and now that Astria was safe, he could focus on Maude.

“Can ye see tae my wife?” he asked Ming Tang hoarsely. “My mother is still inside and I must find her.”

Ming Tang nodded. “Of course,” he said. “Give the lady to me. I will ensure her safety.”

Carefully, Payne deposited Astria into Ming Tang’s protective arms and stood up. With a deep breath for courage, he unsheathed his sword and headed back toward the fighting.

There were only pockets of fighting outside at this point.

Because there had been so many Blackchurch soldiers, both pirate factions had quickly dissolved.

Medusa’s Disciples had gone back to their encampment for the most part, and many of the men that came with Arnaldo had gone back the way they’d come once they saw their leader in pieces in the dirt.

Horses were thundering back down the road as the fight broke up.

Inside the tavern, however, it was another matter.

There was still fighting going on, and as Payne walked into the common room, something sharp caught him in his right side.

Infuriated, he swung his sword around and caught Declan in the chest. Declan grunted and fell back, taking the blade he’d just put in Payne’s side with him as he went.

Fortunately, he’d missed vital organs when he’d stabbed his brother, but Payne’s sword had cut him deeply across his belly.

Blood began to flow from both brothers as they faced off against one another.

“If I’d only been better with my aim,” Declan spat, holding a hand to his bleeding wound. “Tae hell with ye, Payne, ye arrogant bastard. I hated ye as a child and I hate ye now. I wished ye dead so many times that I canna remember when I haven’t.”

Payne had his sword pointed at his brother. “Where’s Maudie?”

Declan had a triumphant smile playing on his lips. “That’s for me tae know, lad.”

Payne’s jaw twitched dangerously. “Declan, I swear by all that his holy, if ye dunna tell me, I’ll run ye through this instant,” he said. “Dunna be a fool. Where’s Maudie?”

Declan was precluded from responding when Francis, rubbing his sleepy eyes, suddenly emerged from the corridor that led back to the sleeping rooms of the Black Cock. One look at the common room, however, and the youngest brother let out a shout.

“What happened here?” he demanded. Then he saw his brothers across the room, both of them bloodied. “What’s going on? Payne?”

Payne had to back away toward the door so Declan couldn’t get in behind him. “Where have ye been, lad?” he said, sounding angry. “Men are losing their lives out here!”

Francis looked stricken. “I had too much tae drink last night,” he said. “I only now awoke when I heard some shouting outside my window. What’s this all about?”