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T hey’d been watching from the shadows.

Creston was to the north and Cruz was to the south, or so Creston thought.

He was watching Payne speak to a small, flame-haired woman so intently that he was caught off guard when Cruz joined him.

In his surprise, he nearly took the man’s head off.

As Creston settled down, Cruz grinned and made sure the man tucked away the dagger that had nearly come flying at his head.

“Be at ease, amigo ,” he said, patting Creston on the shoulder. “I am not your enemy, but I fear we have company in these trees.”

Creston nodded. “I know,” he said. “I saw the men from that escort flee into the trees to the north, but they’ve not made it over this far yet.”

“But they will.”

“And when they do, we will be ready for them.”

Cruz was watching Payne in the distance. “These are ruthless killers,” he said. “Truthfully, I am still having difficulty believing that Payne is the son of Bloody Maude. It seems impossible.”

Creston shrugged. “We all have parents,” he said. “And our parents must be something in life—sinner or saint, we cannot choose.”

“Are you trying to tell me that your father is something terrible?”

Creston looked at him, grinning. “My father is a great man,” he said. “And my mother is a woman of noble birth. I have no surprises with my lineage like Payne has.”

“Nor do I.”

“Speaking of surprises, where are our colleagues?”

Cruz looked over his shoulder. “To the west,” he said casually. “They’ve been very good at concealing themselves, but they are moving forward to get a better look.”

“Shall we go and meet them?”

“No need. They will be here soon.”

As soon as Cruz got the words out of his mouth, a branch snapped behind them. Cruz ducked back into the foliage and whispered loudly.

“You’d better show yourselves before Creston draws his sword,” he said. “No need to hide any longer. You may as well see what we are seeing.”

The first one to come out of hiding was Ming Tang. He moved like the wind, darting up to the front where Creston was watching from behind a tree. His movements brought Amir, Tay, Sinclair, Fox, and Kristian out of their hiding places. As they began to move forward, Tay paused by Cruz.

“How long have you known we were here?” he asked.

Cruz snorted. “Since we left Blackchurch.”

Tay rolled his eyes, chuckling, but moved forward with great stealth. They all did. Creston found himself surrounded by his friends and comrades, all of them watching Payne in the distance as one of the men suddenly threw a punch at him, which he deftly ducked.

“Who’s that?” Fox said. “Sin, do you know who that is?”

Since Sinclair was closer to Payne than anyone, they assumed he knew more about the people in Payne’s life, and their relationships, but Sinclair had no idea. He shook his head slowly.

“I cannot tell you,” he said. “I know he has younger brothers. We all heard him tell St. Denis. Is it possible that is one of his brothers?”

No one had an answer, but Tay grunted softly. “I would be willing to bet that the woman with the red hair is his mother,” he said. “I’ve never seen Bloody Maude in the flesh, but that small woman with hair like liquid flame could be no one else.”

“It has to be,” Kristian said from his position on his belly, watching everything from the clearance under a bush. “And all of those wagons—I can see a cannon in one of them.”

“There are more, I am sure,” Tay said. Then he paused, straining to catch a glimpse of what was happening. “Look—the man who threw the punch is leaving. What now, I wonder?”

No one replied. They were too busy watching another man run at Payne and hug him happily. It seemed like a joyful reunion of sorts.

“That must be another brother,” Sinclair said. “Payne mentioned that he has two.”

“Mayhap one tried to hit him and the other is hugging him?” Tay said. “Seems like a true family to me.”

The few that heard his comment grinned. “Is that how you and your brother greet one another?” Sinclair asked. “Either throwing punches or hugging?”

Tay smiled faintly. “My brother is not the violent kind,” he said, referring to the disabled brother they were all aware of. “Sometimes I wish he could hit me. I would welcome it.”

Sinclair looked at him. “You know I did not mean to make light of your brother’s situation.”

Tay held up a hand to indicate he was not offended. “Of course not,” he said. “But I would be happy to dodge a blow.”

“Do you think Payne is happy to dodge a blow?” Fox asked.

He was closer to the action than anyone, as he had moved up to almost the very edge of the trees.

Fox was the one known as The Protector, and his instincts for protection and defense were second to none.

In this case, it was protecting and defending the men in the trees, and his senses were on high alert.

“Nay, I do not think he was pleased,” Sinclair answered him, his focus returning to Payne in the distance. “But he is clearly happy to see the other man.”

Cruz suddenly ducked away, heading off toward the north and losing himself in the bramble.

Given that several men had broken off from the army in the distance and disappeared into a collection of trees connected to the ones the Blackchurch trainers found themselves in, it was prudent not to be caught off guard should those men come any closer.

Cruz was going to ensure that didn’t happen.

The rest of the group continued to watch, finding great interest when the man who had tried to strike Payne returned with a bundle over his shoulder.

“Look,” Creston said. “He’s brought something—”

“A body,” Sinclair said, interrupting. “A woman?”

They could all see the long, matted blonde hair and the fact that the woman was trussed up with ropes.

Payne was working to release them, clearly in discussion with the red-haired woman at the same time.

Perhaps even scolding her, from his body language.

But they all saw quite clearly when the newly freed captive threw a fist into Payne’s face.

A collective gasp went up from the group.

Payne’s head snapped back but he didn’t fall.

Not even close. He didn’t even put a hand to his face where she’d struck him.

As the red-haired woman laughed uproariously, Payne grabbed the captive by the arm and dragged her over to one of the wagons.

Propping his buttocks on the back edge of the wagon, he threw the captive over his lap, then forced her head and shoulders down with one big arm while his free hand spanked her within an inch of her life.

It was all the Blackchurch men could do not to burst out in loud laughter.

The pirates, in fact, did laugh loudly. They howled with laughter.

Everyone seemed to be having a grand time out of Payne spanking their captive, but he kept going until the flame-haired woman told him to stop.

She actually grabbed his hand. He stopped, but he also stood up and let the captive fall to the ground, where she promptly jumped to her feet and attacked him with her fists.

All Payne did was push her away so that she fell on the ground.

But she got up and did it again. And again.

Finally, Payne took the rope he’d cut off her, and the next time she charged him, he wrapped her up in it and tossed her into the back of one of the wagons.

At that point, the woman with the red hair was motioning her group to move forward, so the Blackchurch trainers scattered, returning to their horses and heading back to Blackchurch at top speed.

Truthfully, everything they’d witnessed had been…

strange. Strange and volatile. And that was the report that went to St. Denis about an hour before the group led by the red-haired woman, and Payne, reached the village of Exebridge, a mile from Blackchurch.

Bloody Maude and Medusa’s Disciples had finally arrived.

And Blackchurch was ready.