In the Tudor Court Collection. Amanda McCabe

blazing too fiercely to be saved, but on land the people seemed to be winning their battle. Maribel’s expression was puzzled as she looked at Justin.

      ‘Why have these people been attacked?’

      ‘We are pirates, hunted and hated by many,’ Justin told her, white-lipped. ‘The attack could have come from anyone. We may discover more when we go ashore. Whoever made the attack did as much damage as possible from the sea and then fled before they could be attacked in return—the cowards! May they rot in hell!’

      Maribel flinched. Something in his tone made her feel that he blamed her for what had been done. She could hardly wait to be on shore. Terrible damage had been inflicted and people would be hurt. She wanted to help wherever she could, dousing the fires or tending injured people.

      Everywhere was confusion and chaos. Maribel joined a chain passing buckets of water, asking the woman next to her what had happened as she took the bucket and gave it to the next in line.

      ‘Three ships sailed into harbour. At first we took no notice, then we saw that some of our ships were on fire. The intruders worked swiftly and secretly, inflicting the most damage they could. When it was seen, the men manned the cannon that protect the harbour and started firing on the strange ships. That is when they fired on the buildings. Some of the men tried to swim out with pistols and swords, but the strangers fired on them. Then, sensing that the fires they had started might spread to their own ships, they sailed off.’

      ‘I was on the other side of the island. Once or twice I thought I heard a muffled boom, but I thought it was just the sea,’ Maribel said. ‘Are there many hurt?’

      ‘Several injured and some dead, those that were caught in the first blast—also men who tried to reach the swine that attacked us.’

      ‘Where are the injured housed?’

      ‘In the taproom of the Nag’s Head, I heard.’

      Maribel saw that the fire was almost out. She left the line and ran towards the inn where she had been told the wounded were housed. As she went into the taproom, she saw men and women lying on the floor. Some had been attended, others were moaning, begging for help. One man seemed to be in charge; by his instruments she guessed that he was a ship’s surgeon. He was binding a man’s head when she went up to him and asked if she could help.

      ‘Have you treated wounds before?’ Maribel shook her head. ‘Give water to those that ask for it—and get out of my way.’

      Feeling rejected, Maribel moved away. She found a barrel of water and a jug. Filling it, she took a pewter cup from the bar and began to move between the injured men and women, giving those that asked a few sips of water. Never in her life had she felt so useless, especially when she saw that Anna was washing away blood and binding wounds at the surgeon’s direction. Why could she not have done that?

      Maribel noticed that Anna was having some trouble holding a patient and trying to bandage his arm at the same time. She went to her and asked what she could do and was rewarded by a fleeting smile.

      ‘Hold him for me. He keeps flopping over and I cannot bind him and hold him.’

      ‘Like this?’ Maribel put her arm about the injured man, supporting him while Anna bound his shoulder with clean linen. ‘Let me help you with the others—please? I feel so useless.’

      Anna looked at her for a moment, then nodded. ‘You can give him a little of this mixture to ease his pain. Support him on your lap and spoon a few drops into his mouth, and then come to me. We need all the help we can get.’

      ‘Yes, whatever you say. You are the mistress here, Anna.’

      Maribel managed to spoon a little mixture into the man’s mouth, then laid him gently down and made sure he was comfortable before moving on to help Anna with the next injury. She waited for Anna’s directions and obeyed them implicitly, never asking why or deviating from her instructions. They worked together quietly and efficiently until all the wounded had been treated.

      Maribel did not care that her beautiful gown had bloodstains on the skirt or that her face was smeared with it. She was moved to tears by the suffering of men, women and even one child who had received burns, but she held them back, knowing that she could not give way to sentiment.

      At last Anna stood up and looked about her. ‘We have done all we can here for the moment,’ she said. ‘We should go back to the house. I shall come back later to see what else may be done for them.’

      ‘Then I shall come with you.’

      ‘You are tired and hungry. We must prepare food for the men when they come back.’

      Maribel followed Anna from the inn. She could see that the fires were out, but two buildings were burned to a shell and others were blackened and badly damaged by the fire. The stink of burning and thick smoke was in the air, as the two women left the waterfront and walked through the row of houses behind.

      Maribel was too tired to notice the way people looked at them. She was thirsty and anxious now to be at home so that she could help prepare the food for Justin and Higgins when they had time to eat.

      It was an hour or so later that Justin and his first mate came back to the house. Maribel had washed her face and hands, changing into one of her simple gowns before helping Anna to prepare food. The men were grim-faced and silent as they came in, both of them drinking water before seating themselves at the table.

      ‘How bad is it?’ Maribel asked. ‘I know several were hurt—were many killed?’

      ‘Three men and two women,’ Justin replied. ‘Two ships were lost, another damaged but not beyond repair. It might have been worse.’

      ‘Was one of the ships lost yours?’

      ‘Yes. Pike’s was damaged, but it will sail again.’

      ‘So you have only the Defiance?’

      ‘I am fortunate to have that.’ A nerve flicked in his cheek. ‘It seems that my ships were what they were after. Pike’s vessel and another caught the flames, but the fires were meant for us.’

      ‘Meant for us?’ Maribel’s eyes widened. For a moment she did not understand, then the colour drained from her face. ‘Are you saying…no, how could it be?’

      ‘The ships that attacked us were Spanish. Pike saw the attack. He says that the pennant belonged to Sabatini…your father…’

      ‘No! How could my father know where to find you?’

      ‘Word of this place may have spread. I do not know that they came looking for us, but it was not mere chance that made them attack my ship.’

      Her throat tightened. ‘You think…you blame my father…and me?’

      ‘No, I do not blame you,’ he said, his voice hoarse. ‘But I fear others will, Maribel. They will blame you—and me for bringing you here.’ He frowned. ‘It may be that I am to blame…’

      ‘Why? I do not know what you mean.’

      ‘If it was your father’s ships, then I may have brought them here.’

      ‘Surely not? My father could not have known you would come here—he could not!’

      ‘You forget Mr Hendry. He had knowledge of our plans. It may be that he passed on his knowledge.’

      ‘You think he betrayed the location of the island?’ Her eyes widened. ‘He sailed away before the attack. You think that he brought them here? Why would he do that? He took your message to my father and you gave him the ship, as you promised. Why would he betray you—all of you?’

      ‘He may not have had a choice. Your father may have hoped to trap me. When I did not walk into the trap or send back the map, he decided to take another kind of revenge. I was told that he had doubled his offer, but that may have been just to lull me into a sense of security. Hendry may have agreed to show them the way here to save his own life…and