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the set of my thoughts on the matter. Every man I had seen who seemed brave in facing another’s sword had been either desperate to obtain something or to escape something. I could not think of a single exception. If desperation was not involved, men fought with very clear heads, and there was little bravery about it: none was required because they did not choose to act unless the odds of success were well in their favor.
    I returned my attention to the true import of his words. “You wish to sail by the New Year?”
    “Aye, before the Twelveday if it can be managed.”
    “What is the date?”
    “December seventh.” Striker grinned.
    “Well, damn,” I sighed.
    “Will you be able to join us?”
    I shook my head as the implications sank deep. “I do not know.”
    Pete rubbed my shoulder. “We Know Ya Will Na’ Leave’Im.”
    “I have high hopes he will return due to the storm,” I assured them – and myself – yet again.
    “But you don’t know if he’ll wish to sail,” Striker said.
    “Aye,” I said sadly.
    We let the matter go and joined the others at the fire. Delaney produced his fiddle, and my comrades drank and danced with good will, if not abandon, as the winds strengthened. I sat at the edge of light and laughter and contemplated bravery and desperation.
    I had not been led from my father’s house at the tender age of sixteen by bravery, but driven by desperation. I had reasoned that whatever horrors the world might offer, they had to be pleasant compared to those I had known. But now, was desperation what drove me to raid against the Spanish? And did I feel driven at all? Could I not simply remain in this pleasant place and while away my days? I had no need of money. As for my inheritance, Theodore knew where to find me to have me handle such affairs as I must.
    Watching the dancing men, I knew it was loneliness that drove me now. I wished for companionship. Yet here I was alone, amongst such true friends, because none were the one I desperately craved. I wanted Gaston. That drove all things. But could I while away my days here without the others, waiting for him to truly return to me in mind as well as body? That was a question I must ponder. Though my heart had ached for him, I had not been without at least some solace and companionship. What would the days be like with no one? And yet, what if he were to return and stay? Would that not be enough? Or would I live in constant fear of his leaving again? Would it not be better for us to be trapped upon a ship where he could not desert me?
    I cursed my traitorous and unworthy thoughts and drank.
    At some point in the waning festivities, I became aware of Dickey watching me intently. I offered greeting, and he smiled as he came to sit beside me.
    “How are you?” I asked. “We have not spoken of late.”
    I tried to remember the last time I had spoken with him alone. It might have been when he assisted in my rescue of Gaston.
    “I am quite well, thank you. And you?” he asked.
    “As can be expected.”
    He cleared his throat. “They say… he is often… not about.”
    I smiled. “Nay, he is not.” I did not wish to discuss it yet again.
    “And to what do I owe this honor?”
    “I have news of a sort,” he sighed. “And I need your advice.”
    I chuckled. “Gods, I have often made a piss-poor job of my life, of which you have seen at least one example. Why ever would you seek me out?”
    “Bah,” he snorted. “If you are so poor at it, then you can at least tell me what you would not do twice.”
    I was truly amused, and minded of my earlier words to the wolves and Cudro. “Aye, that may be my purpose: to stand as an example for others. What counsel would you have of me? Or would you rather speak of this news you have first?”
    “Let us address the news first,” he said quickly. “I have seen Tom. At a distance, that is. We have not spoken. He arrived on one of the French ships, the Belle Mer.”
    I snorted. “Well, that