The first he threw dropped the carpenter. The second he used to deflect a blow from the captain. He whirled and pulled another knife from a boot sheath and now he parried blows from the captain with both.
From the corner of his eye, he caught Goss rearing at the end of his tether, the remaining pirates holding their weapons before them, but backing away from the stallion’s flying hooves. In Amberhill’s experience, seamen rarely possessed any horse sense and that was all for the better in his opinion.
The captain’s sword work was not fine, but it was relentless and he hacked at Amberhill like a windmill, one blow after the other. Amberhill parried blow after blow with his knives.
A branch cracked, and Goss was free, rearing and thrusting his hooves at the pirates. They yelled and scattered.
The captain faltered just a hair, and Amberhill dove to the ground and rolled. He ended up by his gear and rose to find a pirate running at him with cutlass raised.
Amberhill threw a knife and it took the man in the belly. The pirate staggered and fell to the ground, quite dead. The enraged Goss bounded over to the pirate and started pummeling his body, causing an eruption of stench and gore. Amberhill gasped, wishing his horse would go after the living.
He heard a grunt behind him, and rolled away as the captain’s sword slashed down where he had just been standing. He circled with the captain, his gear between them.
He batted away a thrust. They circled some more, Amberhill aware of the sailors on the fringes of his concentration yelling encouragement to Captain Bonnet.
“Give up, me cat,” the captain said, “and I’ll make yer death less painful.”
It was a dreadful chance, and Amberhill knew it, but this had all become a damned nuisance. When the captain raised his arm to deliver another blow, Amberhill threw his last knife. It didn’t mean he hadn’t other weapons on him, but they were not made for throwing.
Captain Bonnet screamed—it was a gurgling scream—and dropped to the ground grabbing at the knife in his throat. Blood spurted between his fingers.
Before the captain even fell, Amberhill grabbed his rapier and parrying dagger and turned just in time to skewer a pirate rushing him. Behind him, Eardog’s eyes widened, and he turned tail to run. Amberhill slid the knife from the twitching captain’s neck and hurled it into Eardog’s back. The pirate fell into the brush and did not move.
Amberhill wiped his brow with his sleeve and paused to catch his breath, only to retch on the vapor of putrefaction that arose from the bodies. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and covered his nose and mouth. As he watched, the flesh of the corpses sank into their bones with unnatural speed.
“Five hells,” he muttered.
Goss still reared on the long dead corpse of the one pirate with a methodical ferocity that stunned him. The bones were by now quite pulverized. “Goss! For heavens sakes! He’s dead already.”
Amberhill picked his way into the mess and, taking Goss’ tether in hand, he spoke soothingly to calm him and led him well away from the gore. He returned to collect his gear. When he went to pull his knife from the remains of Eardog, he found much to his surprise, jewels and gold coins shining among the bones. Using the tip of his knife, he jostled the bones about, and more coins and jewels spilled out of the pirate’s carcass. He checked the others, and sure enough, he found a great fortune of wealth beneath their now papery skin and among their bones.
“How extraordinary.” He’d never seen such a thing before and wondered how it could be, but even more than being surprised by the treasure, he was dazzled by its shining beauty.
As he poked among Captain Bonnet’s ribs, a brilliant flash of red caught his attention, and he spied a ring on the captain’s finger. It was gold, fashioned into a fierce dragon with its tail wound around its neck, its eye inlaid with an exquisite blood ruby.
Surely he would have seen this on the captain’s finger before, but he hadn’t. He slid the ring off. Captain Bonnet’s finger was now no more than bone, so it came easily into Amberhill’s hand. He slipped it onto his own finger and it fit perfectly. He admired it for a time, how it shone in the light; he breathed upon it and polished it with his handkerchief, then regarded it for a while longer with much wonder and delight.
Eventually he tore his gaze from it and started to collect the rest of the treasure from among the bodies. He’d hide it—hide it all. He couldn’t carry it away with him right now, and there was no sense in leaving such largesse in the open like this for just anyone to find.
He collected sapphires and opals, diamonds and emeralds and lapis lazuli. There were the coins both gold and silver imprinted with the dragon sigil from lands unknown, and strands of fine links of the same. He discovered jade and topaz, pretty brooches and more rings. He loved the smooth kiss of the gems on his skin and the cold bite of the gold and silver. He stashed the treasure in the hollow of a tree.
He would return for it later. A treasure such as this would restore his estate ten—no, a hundred times over and he could start the horse breeding farm he dreamed of. He didn’t even steal it, and any curse laid upon it must have surely been lifted with the demise of the pirates. Surely! He almost giggled at the prospect of all debts repaid and his estate’s finances secured in prosperity forever.
When he finished he wiped his hands clean. And paused. What was he doing? The time he had wasted hiding treasure when he should be pursuing Lady Estora’s abductors! It was now midmorning. His ugly greed had reared high, obscuring his mission, delaying the lady’s rescue. He had behaved dishonorably again, had dishonored the memory of Morry.