“Hurry, men!” Roderick shouted, as the two boats surged forward towards the larger vessel. “We are almost upon them.”

Henry felt as though his entire body was on fire, his limbs screaming in pain as he dug the oars into the water again and again. He could not stop, despite the agony, knowing that he had to reach Jacintha.

If they lost the ship now, then she would be gone forever.

“They are preparing to attack!” one man shouted, unsheathing his sword and moving to stand near the front of Henry’s boat, his balance impeccable. “Get ready men.”

Henry looked over at Roderick, seeing him take his boat around to the opposite side of the ship, so that they would divide the men onboard. Aware that he did not have his own sword with him, Henry was more than relieved when another man put a sheathed sword down over his knees, just as they drew level to the ship.

Henry was not quite sure how he managed to climb on board, such was the hubbub and the fray going on all around him. Somehow, the men with him managed to secure their small boat to the larger one and, with their swords in their hands, they climbed aboard, battling their way as they did so.

He was the second last to leave the boat, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he held his sword in one hand and carefully climbed his way up onto the deck.

A battle was raging all around him, the sounds of clashing swords and screams of pain filling his ears. From the other side of the deck, Henry saw his uncle fighting hard, his sword glinting in the sunshine.

A howl of rage caught his ears and, in a moment, Henry found himself in the middle of it all. Glad that he had endured years of training with the sword, Henry put into practice every last thing he had learned, managing to disarm more than one of his opponents. They fell in front of him, the rest of the men doing the same. He did not know how long he fought for, sweat trickling down his back as he slashed wildly at two men who came to attack him at once.

And then, just behind them, he saw a glimmer of movement.

Anger burned in his veins as he saw Lord Slate was slowly making his way out of a cabin, his own sword in his hand. He was not fighting, nor was he making any attempt to join his smugglers in the fight. Did he have Jacintha inside? Where was she?

Another man fell in front of him and, turning his attention to the second, Henry quickly knocked him to the ground, leaving him to the rest of the men to deal with. The battle was slowly being won, and he was not about to let Lord Slate escape from what he had done. He saw the man hurry towards the side of the ship, realizing what he intended to do. Slate wanted to use one of the boats in an attempt to get away, to save his own hide.

The man had no courage.

With a shout of rage, Henry rushed forward, his sword held out towards Lord Slate. The man turned at once, his stance ready and prepared for Henry’s attack.

Henry had always known that to fight with a clear mind brought the best possible outcome but now, he fought Lord Slate with all the fury he felt. His sword fell like hammer blows, clearly surprising Lord Slate, who struggled to hold Henry back. Lord Slate fell back against the ship, his sword thrown from his hand which landed with a harmless splash in the sea beneath.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Henry grated, grasping Lord Slate’s collar with one hand, his eyes boring into his. “Don’t even think of trying to escape. I will not allow it.” He raised his sword and carefully pressed the cold steel against Lord Slate’s neck – and, for the first time, he saw Lord Slate look afraid.

“You are the most conniving, cruel gentleman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing,” Henry grated, resisting the urge to slice open Lord Slate’s neck. “Now, where is she?”

Lord Slate made to shrug, only for Henry to shake him, hard. “Do not even think of lying to me, Lord Slate, or it will be all the worse for you.”

The slight gleam in Lord Slate’s eye faded, his whole body slumping in defeat.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, dropping his head. “She escaped from my cabin.”

The words hit Henry like a sharp kick to his gut. “When?”

“Before you arrived,” Lord Slate muttered, his voice a little hoarse as Henry tightened his grip on his neck. “I don’t know where she’s gone, I swear to you.”

Henry had no choice but to believe him, closing his eyes for a moment in order to steady his breathing. Jacintha had to be on board, although what Lord Slate had done to her, he couldn’t imagine.

“You are going to pay for your crimes,” he breathed, opening his eyes to glare at Lord Slate. “Trust me when I tell you that there is no escape for you this time. You may be a man of the nobility but that will not protect you, not in this case. Your time is up, Lord Slate.”

Holding his sword away from Lord Slate’s neck, he dragged the man back towards his uncle and the rest of his men, relieved to see that the victory had been achieved.

“Throw them all in the brig,” Roderick was commanding, as the men began to haul their captives towards the lower part of the ship. “Ah, Henry. Caught your man, have you?” Roderick’s eyes glittered as he pointed his sword at Lord Slate, a small smile on his face. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you, Lord Slate. We have a lovely little jail cell waiting for you back on land.”

Lord Slate snarled, his eyes flashing. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“That’s quite all right,” Roderick replied, cheerfully. “It’s not me you’re going to have to explain yourself to.”

Taking Lord Slate by the arm, he nodded to Henry. “Go and find her. I’ll take things from here.”

Henry nodded and turned away at once, only one thing on his mind.

Finding Jacintha.

Hurrying to the cabin, he began to look for her in every place he could find, calling her name as he did so. She had to be here somewhere, for she certainly would not have gone into the sea in an attempt to make it to land. He wasn’t even sure she could swim!

Leaving Lord Slate’s cabin, Henry began to search the Captain’s cabin before heading below deck. The air was stale, the smell of unwashed bodies and old food mingling together to make a rather heady concoction. Struggling to see in the gloom, Henry began to call her name over and over, desperately hoping that she would recognize his voice.

“Jacintha? It’s Henry. Come out, please!” His voice echoed around the ship, disappearing into all the dark nooks and crannies. “Jacintha? It’s Henry.”

There was no response. Fear began to tighten its noose around Henry’s neck, making him terrified for her safety. What had Lord Slate done to her? He paused, one hand on the back of a chair as he leaned forward, drawing in long, slow breaths.

He had to find her. She had to be here.

“Henry?”

He looked up at once, his eyes piercing the gloom. A wraith stood in the doorway of a small room, a shadowy figure leaning heavily against the doorframe. His muscles weakened, his body sagging in relief.

“Jacintha?”

A soft cry came from her mouth as he stumbled towards her, clasping her tightly in his arms. Her tears fell like the rain, soaking through his shirt and touching his skin, his own eyes prickling with heat. He held her close for a long time, his breath coming in short gasps as he closed his eyes tightly, drinking in her presence. She trembled against him, her voice whispering his name over and over.

“I’m here,” he reassured her, his lips brushing lightly against her forehead. “I’m here, Jacintha. You are quite safe.”

When she looked up at him, Henry could not help but brush his lips against hers, only for her to press herself up and deepen their kiss, one arm going around his neck as she clung to him. He could not take it all in, his emotions swinging wildly from relief to happiness to fierce anger over what Lord Slate had done.

“Jacintha,” he whispered, as he broke their kiss. Cradling her face in his hands, he looked down into her eyes, relieved to see that she was no longer crying. “I would have gone to the ends of the earth to find you.”

She smiled tremulously, her eyes half closed as he brushed his fingers lightly down her cheeks. “I could only think of you,” she whispered, leaning forward to rest her head against his chest. “You came for me.”

“I will never leave your side again,” Henry promised, holding her tightly for another moment before stepping back from her. “We must go up to the deck. My uncle is waiting there.”

Jacintha shuddered violently. “Lord Slate?”

Henry frowned, his jaw clenching. “I will ensure that he is gone from the ship before we ascend, Jacintha, I promise you. You will never have to lay eyes on that man again.”

She looked up at him again, her eyes trusting. “Thank you, Henry.”

He smiled softly, more than relieved that he had her safely with him once more. “Come, then. Let us return you to your father and sister.”