“Aye… No,” Aidan said suddenly, “not the dirk, the scabbard. Give me the scabbard. ” Raising a brow, he stuck his hand out. “Unless you'd care to bide here a wee longer?”
Scowling, Cormac retrieved both the weapon and its scabbard from his belt. Water lapped at their armpits now, and his fingers fumbled in the icy water.
Taking the scabbard, Aidan slid open an outer pocket, pulling out the tiny knife and fork kept for eating. He replaced the knife, handing it all back to Cormac except for the fork, which he levered against the door, splaying the two tines wide. “For the lock,” he grunted.
“Impressive, Aid. ” By the time his brother was through, Cormac had clumsily reattached the weapon at his waist.
He put his hand out for the fork. “I can do it. ”
“No. ” Aidan shouldered his brother aside. “I've some experience with locks and shackles. ” Aidan's expression was strained, and in it Cormac glimpsed the ghosts of his brother's past, saw how they haunted him. “By all means,” Cormac told him quietly, stepping back to give him the most of what meager moonlight seeped down the hatch.
Aidan ducked under water, and Cormac found himself holding his breath in sympathy. The ship moaned incessantly now, complaining about the watery grave that was subsuming them all.
His brother popped up for a breath of air, then went back down again, until finally the door cracked open. They shoved hard, the thick wood moving sluggishly against the water. The rank stench of penned men swirled out to them.
“Easy,” Aidan growled, as the first of the prisoners began to push his way out. They were panicked, like trapped animals, clawing over each other for freedom.
“Easy, lads. ” Cormac pushed past his brother, deciding he'd be the one to usher the men free. The haunted look on Aidan's face spoke to memories too tortured to bear. “One at a time… that's the way. ” There were just fourteen men in all, and he and Aidan quickly got them on deck and off the ship, where they jammed into the boats going ashore. A few of the sailors spared contemptuous glances for their former captives, but most seemed occupied with saving their own hides.
Relief swelled through Cormac. The first boat — the captain's gig — was already overloaded and bobbing its way back to harbor. The whaleboat was ready and waiting.
They'd saved the men. It was what Ree had wanted. What he'd wanted, too, if he were being honest.
It was a foolish impulse, but even though he knew Marjorie was safe, Cormac wanted to see where she was, to imagine he savored the moment with her. There was one boat smaller than the others, a dory, its clean white paint glowing gray in the black water. Eyes adjusting, he made out the figures on board — a few men, and
two smaller silhouettes, the women.
He smiled. Forbes had been desperate to return to shore, but she'd made the bailie stay to watch. His smile grew broader still, imagining what that scene might've looked like.
“When you're done goggling like an ape, we should get ourselves off this tub. ” Cormac shot his brother a look, expecting to find a glare to match the spiteful words. But instead, Aidan had a playful expression on his face, and in it Cormac saw the ghost of a ten-year-old scamp. He cuffed Aidan on the shoulder. “You first, if you're so skittish. ”
Cormac turned back for one more glance of Marjorie, and his heart jumped in his chest. The crazed lass was standing now, and the dory bobbed wildly as she struggled for balance. One of the men was trying to pull her back down before she capsized them, but she was staring stubbornly, gesturing wildly.
Dread snaked through his chest like a chill fog. He looked up, frightened by what he might see. Cormac heard it now, in the way that sight aids hearing. The little moorish boy was tangled in the radines, crying quietly. Though the child appeared stoic, Cormac saw terror in the tension of his small body, in his rigid grip on the lines.
“You go,” he told Aidan. “I've one more to save. ”
His brother squinted at the masts, and Cormac pointed. “There, by the topsail. ”
“God's bones,” Aidan exclaimed. “You always get to play the hero. Not this time. ” He strode to the mizzenmast.
“We're in this together. ”
Cormac had to chuckle, despite the danger. He tossed the rope down to the whaleboat, shouting, “You're under way, lads. ”
There was a sharp crack, and the brothers staggered, grabbing onto the base of the mizzenmast as the Oliphant tilted wildly. White spume swirled on deck. Cormac and his brother shared a grave look. “She's going fast now. ” Aidan leapt up, scrabbling like a spider up the web of lines. “I'm ready to get out of this water anyhow. ” Cormac climbed beside him, until they reached the boy, perching on either side of him. “Hold him. ” Weaving his legs in the radines for stability, Aidan grabbed the boy around the waist. Though the child had a clawlike grip on the lines and was tangled besides, they couldn't risk him falling to the deck below. “Got him. Cut the lines. ”
The mast shuddered, and they caught themselves on the lines, the boy yelping in terror. There was a deafening and unearthly groan as the deck sank beneath the waves.
Cormac unsheathed his dirk and began sawing away. “Can you swim, lad?” The boy gave a frantic and wide-eyed shake to his head.
Aidan caught the boy's weight as Cormac sheared the last of the lines free. “No matter. We've got you. ” The mast tilted at a sharp angle over the water. It seemed the water was rushing up to meet them. There wasn't enough time to climb back down. “I'll jump in,” Cormac said. “You toss him down to me. ” Steadying himself against the wooden yard, Cormac edged along the footrope to the very end of the yardarm. He gave his twin a last glance. He'd half-expected some jest about heroics, but Aidan only nodded gravely. Cormac nodded back. And then he leapt.
He slammed into the freezing water, and it felt almost warm on his chilled skin. A few rapid breaths brought his senses back to him. Chafing the water from his eyes, he called up to Aidan. “Now!” Aidan wound the buntline around his left fist to anchor himself. He clutched the child in his right arm, shifting him to his hip. Cormac watched as his brother whispered something in the boy's ear, and the two clasped hands. Then, swooping as far as he could over the water, Aidan swung the boy free, and let go-The boy screamed, tumbling through the air in a slow-motion dive, his arms spinning like pinwheels. Cormac treaded water, trying to be close enough to snatch him from the waves, but not so close that the boy would land on him, injuring them both.
He hit the water with a hard splash, and Cormac dove under at once, hands splayed apart and waving before him, searching. He found a tiny wrist and seized it, swimming back up and wrenching the child above the surface of the water.
He swam for Marjorie's dory, hauling the boy at his side. Seawater stung his nose and slapped in his eyes, but he headed toward the sound of her voice. The child gasped for air, but it was only panic, for Cormac made sure to hold his head above water.