He nodded. Much better.

That flash of red caught his eye through the melee again. Vice slammed her sabre’s knuckle-bow into a marine’s face and kicked him away, then glanced aft.

Narrowing his eyes, Knigh followed her gaze to a tall man, black-haired, his black coat even more ostentatious than Vice’s. He had to be FitzRoy.

That would end this.

“To me, marines.” Not checking they followed, Knigh started fighting his way towards the pirate captain. “FitzRoy,” he shouted into the clash of blades. Still nothing—he must not have heard.

He shouldered one pirate, then another, out of the way, using his superior size to shove them with ease. His muscles rejoiced at the rough treatment, at the flex and jar of impact.

He could just let go, let the rage burning in his belly free …

Tightening his grip on his sabre, he shook his head. It would be easy in the moment, yes, but he knew better than that, he knew where it would lead. He had to be stronger.

Voice hoarse, he called the man’s name again. The pirates nearest gave him wary looks, but FitzRoy didn’t respond, and he wasn’t even sure which man was his contact. For all he knew, the fellow could be dead.

Lords and Ladies, he hadn’t even considered that. Then his plan would be dead in the water.

Teeth gritted, he pushed on—he needed to get through to FitzRoy.

Fifteen feet away now—even with the cries and clamour of battle, he’d have to hear.

“FitzRoy.”

Red and gold closed in from starboard at speed.

“Parley,” he bellowed, pushing towards the pirate captain. “Parley, FitzRoy.”

But a body blocked his path—Vice, her sabre outstretched, tip inches from his chest. “Parley?” She snorted. “Pirate hunters don’t parley.”

Knigh’s heart pounded. So close. He took half a step forward.

Vice bared her teeth and lifted the sword to his throat, only an inch from his flesh. Her eyes burned into him.

Odd—the colour looked different from when they’d met at Port Royal. A bright cerulean blue rather than clear turquoise.

She narrowed them. “That’s close enough.”

He kept his arms wide, lowered, non-threatening. Still, the tension thrumming through her lean arms, her muscular legs, and her glowering expression said she would cut him down.

Wild Hunt, surely even the notorious Lady Vice wouldn’t kill a man asking for parley.

She wouldn’t if her captain ordered her to stand down.

Knigh lifted his chin. “FitzRoy.”

FitzRoy went still and turned, a frown etched between his eyebrows, dark gaze cool upon Knigh. That stillness radiated until the pirates and marines closest backed away from each other. Their blades were still raised, but they shared confused looks rather than blows.

Swallowing, Knigh took a deep breath. Gods, please let this work. “Elizabeth sends her regards.”