Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(192)

Aghast, Shanna whirled to her father, but he was not of a mind to hear her pleas and set his back to her, stating firmly over his shoulder, “He’ll be hanged for piracy as soon as we return to Los Camellos. The three bondsmen set free by the brigands told me well enough of our Mister Ruark.”

With that Orlan proceeded to climb carefully down from the quarterdeck and went to greet the party from the schooner.

“Nnnnooo!” Shanna moaned as she struggled past the captain and the helmsman to race after her father. As she reached the main deck, she saw Pitney leaning back against the rail, his arms folded across his chest, huge horse pistols in his belt, and a sour frown on his face. He stared at Shanna for a long moment then with a cluck of his tongue turned his back, as if unable to bear the sight of her. A muffled groan was heard as Ralston’s henchmen threw Ruark onto the deck while the thin man himself raged about, gloating in the power he had seized.

“This slave is guilty of a dozen crimes,” he bellowed. “Hoist him up on the yardarm.” He gestured wildly to those who had gathered about. The pair tossed a rope over a yard and, stretching Ruark’s arms upward, bound them again over his head. Then, doing as they were told, they lifted him up until his toes barely brushed the deck.

Again Shanna turned a frantic appeal to her father and again he ignored her as Ralston halted before him. Instead of its usual gray color, the agent’s face was flushed. He coughed in his glove to clear his throat and argued boldly.

“If an English seaman can be flogged for disobeying an officer, then surely this man deserves a thousand stripes or so. Let us see now that he pays for at least a few of his heinous sins, one of which being his abduction of your daughter. Justice must be swift to be of any good.

“Quartermaster,” he shouted, bent upon showing no mercy at all, “fetch your cat-o-nine and let’s make the bloody beggar whimper.”

Trahern remained silent, for to his mind the once trusted man deserved what he was getting. Arrogantly Ralston strode to Ruark and lifted his sagging head with a gloved hand.

“So now, my good man,” he sneered, “you shall find the full folly of your adventure at escape. You shall feel your justice on your back and also serve as a good example for the other slaves.”

He snapped his hand away, and Ruark’s head lolled loosely between his arms. Ralston snatched the gag away, and his dry metallic breath close in Ruark’s face, he mocked, “Have you no comment, milord? No defense? No plea for mercy?”

Ruark’s tongue was thick in his mouth, and he could not ease the searing pain that seeped upward from his thigh; it seemed to fill his entire body. A brighter red began to mark the left leg of his knee breeches. The effort of the past days had sapped his strength. He could not fight this farce now set upon him.

Almost wildly Shanna glanced about her. Was there no one to help her?

The quartermaster emerged from below deck, shaking out the nine knotted cords of the implement. The small lead balls woven into the end of each rattled on the deck as he flexed the handle. Pitney stood away from the rail and hitched up his britches. He had viewed enough of this travesty and was not about to let it go further. But before he moved, he glanced down at Shanna and paused. Her face wore a grimace of outrage he had never seen before.

Ralston saw the quartermaster approach, and his sadistic penchants forced him on to new heights. Bravely he posed, staring at Ruark, and reached back his arm. “I shall mete out the punishment myself,” he boasted, “to assure that there be no light strokes to cheat justice. Give me the whip.”

A moment later Ralston gave a frightened shriek of pain as the wicked strands shredded his sleeves and bit deep into his arm. In stunned surprise he whirled to stare directly into Shanna’s enraged face. Snarling, she drew the whip back and shook it out, ready for another stroke. She stood her ground like some wild animal, her hair spread back over her shoulders like a lion’s flying mane.

“I’ll give you the whip, milord bastard, if you touch that man again!”

The quartermaster stumbled forward apologetically and reached out to take the cat from Shanna’s hand but suddenly halted and gaped with sagging jaw. Pitney had pulled a pistol from his belt, and now its muzzle was less than an inch from the seaman’s nose. Ralston himself would have stepped forward in indignant rage, but he held his heroism in check for Pitney drew his other piece and with a slow, casual grin spreading his mouth, cocked it.

“Cut him down!” Shanna’s wicked snarl broke the silence, and the whip waved toward the two men who had hoisted Ruark up.

They hastened to slash the rope, and Ruark crumpled to the deck. Shanna yearned to rush to his side but held fast lest he be taken again. She stood rigid before her father, while Pitney held at bay any who would have interfered. One of the pistols stayed centered on Ralston’s chest, and he stared agog at the menacing black bore.