Page 75 of Mardon

“Mardon, I want to talk to ye,” shouted Nairnie, sounding as if she were pounding on the door with her ladle. “Ye canna stay in there forever. Ye are the captain of this ship so get out here and do yer job.”

Mardon wasn’t sleeping. He’d been lying awake for the last two days wallowing in self-pity. He couldn’t stop thinking what a big mistake he’d made by not going after Emmaline. He kept trying to tell himself he’d done the right thing and that he’d done it for the crew. But when it all came down to it, he no longer gave a damn about anyone but Emmaline. She was the only one he cared about right now, not even worrying what happened to him. Jumping out of the hammock fully clothed and still wearing his boots, he unlocked and yanked open the door.

Nairnie’s ladle came down toward him, and he grabbed it in one hand before it hit him in the face.

“Och, sorry, Grandson. I didna mean to hit ye.”

“Well, you should hit me for what a fool I’ve been.”

“Blethers, Mardon.” Nairnie cocked her head and squinted one eye. “What are ye tryin’ to say?”

“I’m saying you were right, Nairnie. I should have gone after Emmaline.”

“Well, now’s a fine time to decide that,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s too late, Mardon. She’s gone.”

“Nay, it’s not too late, because I know exactly where she is going.” He ran out the door and headed up to the sterncastle to take the helm from Aaron.

“Have a nice sleep?” asked Aaron, looking angry that Mardon had locked him out of the cabin yet again. “Because it was damned cold up in that lookout basket for the last two nights, not that you care of course.”

“I’ll take the helm,” said Mardon, stepping in. “I’m plotting a new course.”

“It took two days to shake Nereus, but you wouldn’t know that because you were locked in your cozy, warm cabin,” sneered Aaron.

“Stop it, little . . . I mean, Quartermaster.” Mardon refrained from calling him little brother, knowing he was already angry and not wanting to make it worse. He looked around, realizing they were out of the channel and once again back in the North Sea. “We’re changing course.”

“For where?” Aaron’s hands went up in the air. “We haven’t even had a chance to try to decipher the new clue since the rest of us were too busy trying to outrun Nereus, not to mention keep from getting killed.”

“We’re turning around and going back to Canterbury,” said Mardon.

“Canterbury?” asked Ramble, coming to join them. “Ye mean the cathedral where we found the last clue?”

“Nay, I mean Emmaline’s hometown. Her father had a manor house there.”

“God’s eyes, nay,” said Aaron under his breath. “It happened to Tristan and just like I said, now it’s happening to you, too.”

“What’s happenin’?” asked Ramble.

“He’s going to leave us. For a wench!” Aaron crossed his arms over his chest and turned and looked the other way. “Traitor,” Mardon heard him say under his breath.

“I’m not a traitor to you, Aaron, or to anyone but Emmaline. She has no one. No place to go, no family, and as far as I know, no friends either. Don’t you see? I turned her away when she needed me the most.”

“So what?” spat Aaron. “You belong here. We’re your family.”

“Aye, and we were like family to Emmaline, too,” said Mardon in a low voice.

“He’s right,” said Nairnie from the bottom of the steps. “And family doesna abandon each other. Isna that right, my grandsons?”

“Nairnie, I feel bad enough about what happened with Emmaline,” said Mardon from the helm. “Don’t try to make me feel guilty for leaving our sister behind when we turned to piracy years ago.”

“It took Gwen many years to convince her husband, Brody, to come lookin’ for ye boys. But she never gave up hope. Neither did I,” Nairnie told him.

“One thing at a time, Grandmother,” said Mardon, flashing Nairnie a smile.

“Mardon? What did ye call me?”

“You heard me.”

“These auld ears canna hear that well. Ye’d better say it again.”