In The Arms Of My Pirate

The Duel

Charles pushed to his feet and swayed, his head still spinning from the explosion. "Leave her alone!" he shouted. He lifted a chunk of the wood from the splintered deck and swung it wildly.

The pirates surrounding him stepped back, easily dodging his blow.

Rain and blood blinded his eyes as he swung again. A pirate with thick black braids twisted into his beard caught the blow against his sword, easily knocking the wood from Charles' hand.

The pirate laughed.

A man to his left swung at Charles with a short blade. Charles lunged toward him, catching the man's arm. He drove his knee into the man's stomach, forcing him to double over.

Charles wrenched the knife from his opponent's grip and drove the blade into the thread-bare shoulder of the man's coat.

Howling with pain, the man dropped to the deck. Charles pulled the knife free and twisted, throwing the dagger. The blade spun through the air and imbedded into the chest of another pirate. The man stumbled and fell back.

A pistol shot blasted into the air. Charles spun, droplets of rain and sweat flinging from his hair. He barred his teeth, fists clenched.

Mrs. Alston trembled feet from him, her upper arm gripped tightly by a man whose broad hat signaled him as the pirate captain. Charles paused, panting.

"Let her go," Charles said.

The captain looked between Charles and Mrs. Alston, raising a dark eyebrow with interest. "Is this your woman?" he asked.

"My friend," Charles said, breath coming in haggard gasps as rain and sweat trickled down his face and chest.

"How entertaining," the captain said, lifting a finger from his pistol and tracing it down Mrs. Alston's cheek.

She shuddered and twisted her face away.

"Release her," Charles demanded again. "Have you no honor, Lafitte?"

The pirate captain laughed, his head tipped up as if to embrace the cold rain. "Honor?" he said, spitting the word as if it were a bit of overripe fruit. "Do you have honor, young sir?"

"I have enough," Charles growled.

"Let's play a game then, shall we?" Lafitte said, dragging Mrs. Alston a step closer to Charles. "Defeat me in a duel, and I will release you and this lovely woman at the closest port."

Charles looked at Mrs. Alston. She shook her head violently, the frightened tremors coursing through her body making the droplets of rain glisten in the light of the oil lamps and torches.

Slowly, Charles nodded.

"Mr. Atwell, don't—" Mrs. Alston's cry was cut off as Lafitte shoved her aside and drew his sword.

Another pirate tossed a short dagger to Charles. His head still spinning from the explosion earlier, he fumbled for the knife mid-air, cutting his head.

The pirates laughed.

Without warning, Lafitte jabbed with his sword. Charles twisted, using his shorter blade to deflect the blow. But the knife wasn't long enough, and the edges of the blades screeched together as Lafitte shoved hard.

The sword cut into Charles' side at his bottom left rib.

He seethed in pain, gritting his teeth.