“So nice of you to join us.” Her voice was strained, but she was alive.

Nostrils flaring, he nodded and blocked a blow aimed at her. Thank the gods, yes, she was alive. He drew a deep breath, cooling fractionally.

Ducking swiftly, she lowered Wynn behind him, the rest of the team forming a barrier around her. Vee wiped the blood from her eyes before taking up a place at his shoulder. She took out one marine with a low slash and Knigh reached past to thrust his sabre into the man behind.

“Come on, you bastards,” she huffed between attacks, “just surrender.” Then she said surrender again in Hesperian.

But the Covadonga didn’t strike her flag or raise the white.

Together, he and Vee blocked blade after blade as wave upon wave of marines broke upon them.

Sweat and blood bathed every inch of his body, and the fallen men made the deck treacherous underfoot. His muscles burned, tensing and loosing into practised drills, catching one blow than another and another.

You ruined us.

His racing pulse thundered in his ears until he could barely hear Vee, even though she was close enough that her shoulder brushed his. He gritted his teeth as his vision blurred.

You were never the man I thought.

Breathe, parry, fist clubbing across a face.

You left us with nothing.

Hack, slash, red.

I was a fool to believe in you.

Cut and cut and cut.

The clang of steel on timber.

“Knigh?”

His breath, his hands, his arms shook.

Smiling—someone was smiling. People, pirates, mouths open, happy, but he couldn’t hear them.

A cool touch on his blistering skin.

He wheeled, grabbing something, raising his sword.

“Knighton Villiers.”

He stopped. He knew that voice, that name.

Slate blue eyes stared up at him.

He blinked. He knew those eyes, even if they weren’t always that colour.

“Knighton,” she murmured, and he stared at her lips as they moved so slowly in comparison to the rushing of his blood, “they’ve surrendered.”

Vee. Stillness. Eyes on them. The silence of held breaths. Hesperian swords on the deck. His ears popped and it all rushed back in.

Chest heaving, he stared at his sabre, the blade inches above Vee’s shoulder. He held her wrist so tight his hand trembled.

“Knighton, come back.”

He blinked and shook his head. Gods, what had he—

Dropping her wrist, he let his sword fall to the deck with a clang. “No, I”—he shook his head—“I didn’t—did I?” He raked his fingers through his hair, gaze scanning her, but he couldn’t spot any more injuries than she’d had earlier.

With a tight smile, she turned to the other pirates and waved a hand. “We’ve got ourselves a treasure ship, ladies and gents.”

They stared from her to him and back again.