Later that afternoon, still out in the Channel but with Plymouth not that far ahead, Logan arranged to meet with Edgar, John, Griffiths, and Claxton in the cabin he’d been given next to Linnet’s. She was still on deck, more or less above their heads at the wheel.
When Griffiths, the last to join them, came in and shut the door, Logan waved him to a perch on the narrow bunk, and from his position leaning against the wall beside the small porthole, began, “Edgar and John already know about the Black Cobra cult and my mission, of my role, and those of my three colleagues and numerous others, in attempting to bring the fiend to justice. But what none of you can have much idea of is the reason our mission’s so vital.”
In stark detail, he described some of the cult’s atrocities, enough to have the four sailors blanch. “That’s what these people are capable of.”
He tipped his head toward the sea beyond the porthole. “You all saw the cultists aboard the last frigate-most were cult assassins, the deadliest group, the most fanatical. You saw how desperate they were to reach this ship-they’ll do anything to reach me, and, now, Captain Trevission. She, a woman, defeated them. Her gender will make the defeat sting unbearably. I doubt they’ll come after the Esperance herself-they don’t think of ships in that way-but they will come after her captain-to punish her. When I escape them, as I must once I reach Plymouth, those remaining on the coast will be desperate to-as they’ll think of it-redeem themselves in the eyes of their leader, the Black Cobra, by killing Captain Trevission in the most gruesome and painful way they can devise.”
He paused, scanning their faces; their expressions were as grim as he could wish. “To a lesser extent you and the crew will be in danger, too, but it’s Captain Trevission they’ll focus their vengeful hatred on.”
Shifting, he straightened. “When we left St. Peter Port, my plan was for the Esperance to carry me to Plymouth, where I’d leave the ship, meet with the guards waiting for me in town, and carry on with my mission. I’ve already told Captain Trevission that on completion of my mission, I plan to return to Guernsey and Mon Coeur. If I survive, I intend to ask her to be my wife and live on Guernsey with her, but I won’t, can’t, make any offer until I know I’ve survived hale and whole.”
The men blinked at his open declaration, but Edgar’s and John’s expressions lightened, and they nodded with both approval and relief.
“However,” Logan continued, “if after today’s action I continue as I’d planned and leave Captain Trevission on the Esperance in Plymouth, the cult will target her.”
Griffiths and Claxton frowned. “We can rally the crew-we’ll keep her safe.”
Logan inclined his head. “I’ve no doubt that, while she’s on board, you’ll be able to do that. But I seriously doubt that, after today, the cult will come after her while she’s on the Esperance . They’ll wait until she leaves and heads home-to Mon Coeur.” He paused, scanned their faces as the potential for horror sank in. “And we all know what’s at Mon Coeur. The cultists aren’t much good on the waves, but tracking on land-at that they excel. They’ll follow Captain Trevission to Mon Coeur, scout the place, gather their forces-and they do have considerable numbers-and pick their time. I know there are men at Mon Coeur capable of fighting, but even if you can persuade Linnet to allow some extras to go home with her, it won’t be enough. Not enough of you will realize the savagery and fanaticism you’ll face, not until it’s too late.”
Again he paused, then simply said, “There are too many innocents at Mon Coeur to risk it.”
None of the four disagreed; he could see their rising protectiveness in their faces. Griffiths fixed his shrewd eyes on Logan. “What’s our alternative?”
Logan met his gaze. “I can see only one. If you could keep your captain on board the Esperance , under constant guard and in Plymouth Sound, until my mission is complete and the Black Cobra is no more, I believe she and everyone associated with her would remain safe. The cult might, in desperation, try to attack the ship in harbor, but from what I’ve seen of your crew-and you’d be surrounded by other navy and army, more or less at call-I can’t see even assassins succeeding. In addition, most of the assassins will follow me-it’s reasonable to assume those are their standing orders.”
He paused, noting that all four men were nodding, following and agreeing with his assessment thus far. “The problem with that scenario is that I can’t see you-any or all of you-managing to keep Captain Trevission in Plymouth. The instant she realizes the potential danger, as indeed she might already have done, she’ll insist on returning to Guernsey and Mon Coeur with all speed, to make sure all’s safe there-to be there to defend it and her household when the cult come calling. She’ll reason that as the Esperance is flying the Guernsey flag, is so well known, and as her captaincy is an open secret, the cult will be able to identify Mon Coeur as her home even without her leading them there, and seek to harm her by harming her family.”
He grimaced. “In this instance, that reasoning is wrong, but neither you nor I will be able to convince her of that. The cult would delight in butchering her family, but they’d want to do it in front of her. That’s the sort of fiends they are. It’s her they want-she’s their target-and they’ll remain fixated on her. Only if she’s in the immediate vicinity will family or associates be used as tools-to draw her out, weaken her, or cause her pain. For all their brutality, the cultists are simple-acting at a distance isn’t their way.”
He studied the four men, raised his brows. “As I see it, the only way you and the crew could keep her on board, here in Plymouth, is by committing mutiny-she is, after all, Captain Trevission of the Esperance , holder of an extant Letter of Marque. I won’t even suggest that-I think it would be an equally bad disaster, just in a different way.”
The four men exchanged glances heavy with meaning, then Edgar looked up, grimly nodded. “You’re right. We couldn’t do it. This is her ship, and none of us would stand against her. She’s our leader-it’s been that way since her father died.”
“And so it should remain.” Logan pushed away from the wall, but the cabin was too small to pace.
Griffiths eyed him measuringly. “So what’s your solution? Your new plan? We’ll do whatever’s necessary to keep the capt’n and her family, and the ship and crew, safe.”
Logan looked at the other three, saw agreement and the same resolution in each face. “It’s simple.” In a few brief words, he outlined his plan.
They opened their mouths to argue, closed them, opened them again, then, accepting there was no real option and that he’d countered all their objections, they slowly nodded and agreed.
Logan leaned on the stern rail alongside Linnet, once again at the wheel, and watched the shores of England rise on the horizon.
It had been so many years since he’d last seen them, so many hard, dusty years-the last, spent in chasing the Black Cobra, the hardest of all.
For long moments, he simply stared, let his soul drink in the green. The lush, vibrant fields of Devon-even with the louring sky above, the sight welcomed, soothed.
He was conscious of the glances Linnet threw him, but didn’t meet them. She didn’t speak, didn’t question, but left him to his quiet homecoming.
And it was that. This time he was home for good. He wouldn’t be setting out on any more adventures, any more campaigns. Now, in this moment, and he felt it in his bones, he was stepping beyond that phase of his life-and into the next. Whatever it would be.