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Frink bellowed. “That fair piece you carried aboard might miss our little fun, but that doesn’t mean we can’t conclude our business, does it, men?”
    A grand “hoorah” ignited the crowd.
    Captain Collins harrumphed. “You’re despicable!”
    A pirate smacked Collins over the head, opening a new wound. Frink shouted, encouraging his men, waving his arms about like a thrashing squid. Riotous laughter echoed about them. Percy scanned the crowd of misbegotten souls, finding two, four, ten men waiting for his signal. He shook his head. Patience. Timing was everything.
    Frink slashed his cutlass through the air as he paced in front of Collins’s unconscious form. Then, changing tactic, he whirred the blade past Percy’s head.
    Percy didn’t flinch. Thanks to training he’d received within Nelson’s Tea, his reflexes were on continuous alert. He knew the minute Constance began to regain consciousness. When she stirred, he sheltered her face in the crook of his arm so she wouldn’t be exposed to Collins’s humiliating treatment.
    â€œBe still,” he whispered, “if you want to live.”
    Catching the movement, Frink shouted. “Bring the girl!”
    Percy took a hesitant step forward. Every second Constance came to being fully awake increased her odds of getting killed.
    â€œSet her down. If she wakes up, I want her to see what happens to those who oppose me,” Frink ordered.
    Percy laid Constance on the ground. “Do not move,” he warned her.
    Her eyes flickered open. Those startling green eyes locked with his. Smoke blanketed their feet from the residue of battle. Dangerous minutes ticked by, until Collins squirmed, drawing the captain’s attention. Captain Collins’s eyes narrowed upon Frink and then slowly shifted to Percy. It was obvious the man was in immeasurable pain. His fixed stare willed Percy not to break Nelson’s code, though Percy had already scanned the crowd, looking for ways to save the merchantman’s life.
    When my time comes, make sure I go out like a man. He could never forget Collins’s last request, even if he tried.
    Collins’s face contorted. “Kill me and be done with it!” he yelled.
    Frink could not know Collins was directing this last request to Percy.
    â€œYou’ll make a pretty death of it, yet, Collins!” Frink exclaimed, grabbing Constance by the arm.
    Now wide awake, Constance squealed and shrank away.
    â€œYou see,” Frink said, pulling her to her feet. “We make hell worth living.” Giving his captive a shake, he added, “And if this be hell, I want to enjoy every last minute of it!”
    Frink jerked Constance forward and planted a forceful kiss upon her lips. She gagged beneath his assault. When he released her, she screamed. Enraged, the captain smacked her face and twitched his nose. Bowing, he offered his men a salute.
    â€œThe lady and I bid you adieu. Perhaps my crew can be persuaded to put you out of your misery, Collins.”
    Percy clenched his fists. His worst fears confirmed, he watched Frink out of the corner of his eye, as the man dragged Constance over to the hatch of the cargo hold. There, the wretch tore at her wrap, struggled with her thrashing limbs, and fumbled with his pants. Percy’s gaze scanned the crowd, and then settled upon Guffald, a member of Nelson’s Tea, lying unconscious, face up a short distance away. If he hadn’t been hard-pressed to check out the bowels of the Octavia and, hadn’t been detained by saving Danbury’s niece, he might have been able to help the man. Instantly alert, he watched two pirates pour oil over Guffald’s body in preparation to set him aflame. Not another moment could be wasted. His gaze flicked over his crew. All he had to do was give the signal.
    Celeste’s silhouette flashed before him, but her image was dissected by Constance’s terrified scream. The