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“What happened?” I asked in horror, looking at the tiny coastal town that was aflame in front of us.
“Stay here,” Tristan ordered sternly, climbing into the one long boat that was going ashore. “I’ll find out what I can.”
They lowered down onto the water and began rowing toward land, the rest of us standing on deck watching. It appeared that every building in port had been lit up, the smoke funneling into the sky mercilessly, trees and everything feeding the blaze.
“Who would have done this?” I asked no one in particular.
“How could they have done it, ye mean,” a voice said quietly beside me.
Glancing over, I saw Adam Kelly, a grim expression on his face as he nodded for me to follow him away from the crew.
“What do you know?” I pressed, as soon as we were out of earshot.
“This port was protected by the Order, savvy?” he said, apparently aware that I knew what he was talking about. “They shipped things through here.”
“What are you saying?” Confusion brushed through me, along with a sense of dread I couldn’t quite explain.
“How did someone come in and burn it to the ground if there was a whole army of Templars inside, eh?” he explained, staring over my shoulder at the men. “They never left it unprotected. There were enough of us to stop a man of war, if need be. Where did they all go?”
A sick feeling was forming in the pit of my stomach and I glanced back at the crew and the town past them. Where indeed?
Several hours passed without Tristan and the men he’d taken ashore returning. All I could do was make dinner for the men, trying to keep them satisfied as they complained about being stuck on board.
“Probably the Spanish,” one of them was saying around his full mouth. “Trying to stomp us out, eh?”
“It could have easily been the English for that matter,” another man butted in, rum trickling down his chin. “They’ve both been settin’ up privateers to try and ensnare us. The French, too.”
“If it had been an official government,” Alfonso clipped, dishing out someone else’s plate. “There would be bodies hung, no? A warning to other pirates that the same fate awaits them. So, tell me, where are the bodies, señor?”
The men fell silent at that, exchanging looks of discomfort between themselves.
“Are ye suggestin’ it was one of our own?” a voice piped up from the back. “Why would anyone do that?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” I said, focusing on the coals. “What could make an entire ship of men decide to lay waste to a town that welcomes them without fail? Sells their goods for a fair profit?”
“I’ve heard of men having issues at port, but nothing ever amounting to this,” another man spoke uncertainly.
“Captain on deck!” one of the watchmen yelled from above.
“Excuse me,” I muttered to Alfonso, wiping my hands on my pants and hurrying up the stairs.
Tristan, covered in black soot and wearing a tired expression, smiled weakly at me as I approached.
“Did you find out anything?” I asked, impatient for answers.
“James, go find Mr. Kelly and have him meet us in my quarters,” he commanded as Mr. Abby and John Butler climbed on board as well, two more men behind them. “John, if you wouldn’t mind following us?” Taking my hand, he led me across the ship, up the stairs, and into our room, sighing as the door closed.
“Adam told me this was a Templar protected port,” I started immediately. “What happened? And why didn’t he go ashore with you?”
“One of us always stays with the ship, mum,” John explained. “In case something should occur among the others.”
“Oh.” It was a good idea, I guess. There would always be someone to continue the work.
A knock at the door sounded and two other knights entered, grim expressions on their faces.
“So, what happened?” I questioned again.
“All of the items we were supposed to pick up are gone,” Tristan stated. “Apparently, there was some type of uprising among the Order here and they split pretty even down the middle. Only one of them was still alive by the time we got to them.
“They fought with each other, but the Black Knights won. Their leader insisted on burning the town, as a message to any other knights coming through. My name was mentioned specifically.”
“The Black Knights? I thought they were all killed off in the thirteen hundreds.” This wasn’t making any sense at all.
“They were, for the most part,” James spoke up. “But the break has always been there. Things go well for a while, and then someone decides to start the rebellion again. The last group surfaced over one hundred years ago, but was destroyed. I had no idea there was a new sect forming.”
“I didn’t either,” Tristan sighed. “But I’m not surprised, given who’s leading them.”
“You found out who it is?” A sinking sensation fell through my stomach. I knew just what kind of man would burn an entire village, simply to send a message to Tristan alone.
“Aye,” John mumbled. “He left a signature—cut into the chest of the last surviving knight.”
“Thomas Randall,” Tristan and I stated together.
“He’s going to go for the treasure,” Adam spoke, a surety to his voice that made my skin crawl.
“He’ll stop at the ports and steal it all,” James agreed. “We must leave now if we hope to catch him.”
“Let us pray that no one else is harmed,” Tristan added solemnly. “There are many innocent people burning on the beach at this moment.”
The air hung heavy around us, anger and frustration easily visible on everyone as the statement waited for some type of answer.
“We can’t just leave them,” John said uncomfortably.
“What do you suggest? We bury them all? That would take days.” Adam pursed his lips, staring at the ground in contemplation. “There’s nothing we can do for them.”
“Aye,” Tristan agreed with remorse. “We have to abandon them. Hopefully, the next crew will be kinder than us.”
“It’s not your fault you can’t stay,” I interrupted them. “You have to leave to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
“Ye are right, lassie,” Tristan said, smiling sadly. “Weigh anchor then, Mr. Butler. Get the crew moving.”