CHAPTER 12

" Right on time." Monigam said, keeping Raphaëlle in his sights. "Go pick up their weapons."

Dande remained silent as Raphaëlle turned her head towards Tolas, who silently pleaded with her not to move. She was mortified. She couldn't let her companions die, but the idea of being forced to leave with the scarred man disgusted her to the core.

In a corner of her mind, she cursed her helplessness, while in another, she frantically searched for a solution to get them out of this situation.

If only she had kept the flashlight in her hands, she could have tried to throw it straight at the pirate. Would she have time to draw her dagger and attack? If the other pirate hadn't appeared, she would have tried, even if it meant taking a bullet. Death was preferable to being at the mercy of a scoundrel. She had promised herself long ago that she would never again experience such horror. If her sacrifice gave Tolas a chance to avenge her by killing their assailant, she felt ready to risk her life.

"Come on, get your sweet little ass over here, missy,”Monigam pressed, gesturing impatiently. "unless ya want tall, dark and oldie over there to bite the dust. Dande, get a move on, grab their stuff!"

A bead of sweat ran down the young woman's forehead. Her limbs felt heavy, her arms seemed to weigh tons, her legs were made of lead. Her whole being screamed that she should stay still, while her heart told her she had to move forward, sacrifice herself for Tolas and her companions. Her brain was working overtime, imagining a thousand solutions to get her out of her predicament, but all her ideas encountered the same obstacle: the musket in the scarred man's hands.

"Damn it, Dande, MOVE!" Monigam, not taking the risk of diverting his attention from the Altaïr crew, grew impatient.

The pirate's annoyance snapped Raphaëlle out of the trance she was in. Almost instinctively, she turned her eyes towards the aforementioned Dande, still standing near the entrance. He was a somewhat frail-looking man, his features drawn with fatigue, his mid-length brown hair falling into his eyes, wearing patched clothing that made him look more like an old professor than a pirate.

For a split second, their eyes met, and Raphaëlle felt a strange sensation. Something in Dande's eyes made him fundamentally different from the scarred man, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Then their contact broke, and she saw him reach behind his back, his face impassive. Monigam, meanwhile, was on the verge of exploding.

"Dande, you better fuckin….” he began, turning his head before stopping abruptly.

Dande stood tall in front of him, looking determined. Before Monigam could make a move, the pirate suddenly plunged a massive, rusty dagger into Monigam's chest.

The action took everyone by surprise, freezing the moment in time. Monigam opened his mouth to try to say something, but the only sounds that came out were gurgling noises as blood began to accumulate in his throat. Dande, his gaze cold, grabbed his dagger with both hands and, with a sharp jerk, twisted it in Monigam's ribcage, breaking several ribs at once and bringing the scarred man to his knees. He still held his musket, but Dande effortlessly tore it from his hands.

Full of hatred and incomprehension, the scarred man looked up one last time at the one who had taken his life. By some miracle, he managed to grab Dande's pant leg and clung to it with all the strength he had left, blood oozing from the corner of his lips. The latter grabbed Monigam's hand and forcefully made him let go before spitting in his face with a sly smile.

"Say hello to Baste for me, scumbag." Dande spat out with infinite disdain in his voice.

Those were the last words Monigam heard before the icy grip of death took him forever. He collapsed beside Dande, who paid him no further attention.

He had already turned his attention to Raphaëlle, whom he had seen inching closer. When he felt she was about to pounce on him, he raised the musket towards her, stopping her in her tracks. Tolas, who was about to grab his saber, also stopped, his hand on the hilt and his eyes fixed on Dande.

But before the two teenagers could do anything else, the pirate raised his weapon and his other hand in surrender before exclaiming:

"I’m here to parley!"

"Parley?” Raphaëlle repeated, astonished, before glancing at Tolas who seemed equally surprised.

The pirate nodded.

"I think we can help each other out, and if you follow my plan, we can leave this island behind with all our limbs intact. As long as you promise not to gut me once I've put down this weapon and to ensure my protection, I'm ready to tell you everything."

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Tolas fell into deep thought, trying to assess as quickly as possible the possible advantages and disadvantages of helping this pirate.

Of course, all his training and his instinct itself told him not to accept Dande’s proposal. Moreover, he couldn't help but think of his brother's last recommendations, and even though it pained him to comply with his brother's will when he wasn't even there to enforce it, Tolas thought it might be preferable to refuse the pirate's request.

"It's a deal!" exclaimed Raphaëlle, her voice strong and assured. "Now, put down your iron.”

Tolas opened his eyes wide in astonishment, turning his head toward the wolf who, once again, had overridden his authority. Dande, on the other hand, took a deep breath with a small satisfied smile and, as promised, holstered the musket in his patched belt. Cornell had finally risen back, sensing that the situation seemed to have calmed down.

"Raph'!" Tolas almost shouted, exasperated. "You can't—"

"Tolas!" she immediately cut him off. "You’ve got to help Skepta, he’s bleeding out!”

The young man lowered his gaze to Skepta, who was moving more and more meekly on the ground. He bit his lip, feeling somewhat ashamed of having completely forgotten about his injured crewmate's presence, before giving himself two quick slaps on the cheeks to get his thoughts back in order.

"Alright. Raph', Cornell, keep an eye on him." ordered the boatswain, rising and picking up the flashlight still on the ground.

"Yes, sir." they both replied simultaneously.

The boatswain used the flashlight to rummage through his bag and pulled out a large black scarf and the bottle of water he had taken that morning. He also took out a tiny bottle of antiseptic, a roll of adhesive tape, and two small compresses provided to him as a first aid kit.

He firmly grasped the technician's injured leg, who weakly groaned, and poured half of his water bottle over his wound to wash away some blood. Tolas could thus see that the bullet had not passed through Skepta's thigh.

Silently praying that no major veins had been touched, he grabbed his saber lying next to him and roughly cut Skepta's pants to expose his leg.

"Raph'! Shine the light on me!" ordered the young man, handing the flashlight to his friend.

Raphaëlle, scrutinizing each of the bosco’s actions, took it in silence and resumed her observation. Tolas rubbed his hands with some of the antiseptic before pouring the remainder onto one of the compresses, which he used to finish cleaning the technician's wound. Then, he cut off some adhesive tape and placed the second compress over the wound before taking the black scarf and tying it tightly around Skepta's thigh.

The bosco sighed a bit, wiping his forehead with his hand.

"Okay... it's not much, but it should prevent major bleeding," he explained to Raphaëlle behind him. "but the sooner we get him back to the Altaïr, the sooner he'll recover without ending up with a peg leg."

Raphaëlle approached Tolas and placed a hand on his shoulder. She was impressed by her friend's efficiency; it was the first time she had seen him tend to someone and truly act like the one in charge. Perhaps there was something good about his promotion after all.

Cornell couldn't help but turn back to the injured technician.

"Ya’ve certainly spent the evenin’ makin’ me change my mind about ya," he said. "So ya better hang in ther’, kid."

Skepta feebly opened one eye and nodded before letting his head fall back.

"Alright, I've left you take care of your mate, but time is running." Dande suddenly exclaimed, sounding impatient.

"What do you mean?" Raphaëlle asked him.

Tolas had stood up, standing tall next to his friend.

"I told the others you were here almost an hour ago and Scornwallis is anything but stu—"

"Scornwallis?" Tolas interrupted with a serious expression on his face. "The Butcher of the Isla Novaes?"

"The very same," Dande continued as if nothing had happened, "and believe me, if he hasn't received a message from Monigam within the next ten minutes, he’s going to suspect something’s wrong and probably send more men here."

Cornell shot a panicked look at Tolas, who returned it, trying his best to keep calm. Raphaëlle, meanwhile, narrowed her eyes, trying to remember why that name sounded familiar. All of a sudden, the memory came back to her and a grimace contorted her face.

When she was way younger, back when she lived on the streets of Kardak with her other thief friends, the stories of the Butcher of the Isla Novaes were used like horror stories to terrify little kids. It just so happens that he was very real and very dangerous. The Redcaps had been unable to get their hands on him and the only reason he had stopped making headlines was that he had simply disappeared overnight.

"How many men are we talkin’ about?" Cornell inquired.

Dande seemed to think for a moment before responding.

"Scornwallis won't leave the Kemper until he knows where Monigam is... and his inner circle will stay with him, so... about ten people. No more. The others are in too bad of a shape to make the journey here."

Tolas and Raphaëlle exchanged suspicious glances before Tolas turned his attention back to Dande.

"Why are you telling us all this, huh? What’s your angle?" the boatswain asked.

"I have my reasons."

"No shit," Raphaëlle interjected, "we figured. We want to know if those reasons are good enough for us to trust you.”

"Do you seriously want me to waste the little time we have telling you why I'm doing all this?"

"You said it yourself, Scornwallis is sending people here anyway so I’d say you’ve got about an hour to make your case." Raphaëlle said with a little smile while crossing her arms.

Dande opened his eyes wide, unsure whether to be amused by the audacity of this young marine or annoyed by her lack of seriousness. And although it hurt Tolas's ego, he had sensed that his friend was gaining the upper hand in this conversation. He decided to follow her lead and crossed his arms, soon joined by Cornell, who had understood the young wolf's gambit. Dande eventually rolled his eyes and rubbed his nose for a moment before sighing.

"I have a score to settle with Scornwallis and his gang, and I’ve got no chance of doing that if I'm stuck on his ship. Is that enough?"

"Does it have anything to do with this 'Baste' you mentioned earlier?" Raphaëlle asked him, recalling Dande's last words to Monigam.

At the mention of that name, Dande's jaw clenched up and he seemed to hold his breath.

"... He’s… he was my little brother," Dande began, lowering his head. "We've always been together, and... he was a good lad. He had no business on Scornwallis's ship... and if he-if he could have left, he might still be alive right now.”