Chapter Forty-One

Surrender Is Not An Option

Claymore groaned as he struggled back to consciousness to discover he was lying flat on his back on his office floor. He frowned, looking all around. How long he'd been there he had no true idea.

"What happened?" He blinked at the long shadows of evening that were steadily filling the office. "What's going on?"

He lifted his head. He knew he should be at his desk, going over and over the day's takings and balancing his books. A self-appointed task he relished and looked forward to each night.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to make sense of it all. He knew his head ached cruelly where he'd hit the floor hard, and the bitter taste in his mouth was like cinders and ashes.

And then unwelcome memories came flooding back. "Blasted Turner…" he groaned weakly, feeling agonising pains in every limb and sinew.

He felt as if he'd been torn apart. He lay still, mentally assessing every one of his limbs. Nothing was missing or broken. He breathed a cautious sigh of relief.

Finally, he managed to hoist himself up onto one elbow, still feeling too weak to stand. He stared at the spot where the demon had stepped back into the infernal crack and vanished. The only sign of George Turner now was the throat-searing stench of sulphur that still hung in the air.

"Then I wasn't passed out for too long…" Claymore muttered, feeling only slightly mollified.

He rolled his head to look out the window. Outside the office, the town lights had begun to flicker on as the menfolk hurried homeward. The wives and mothers were already busy bathing children, cooking meals and talking with their loved ones about their day. The ordinary, mundane things of life that most folks did without thinking.

Claymore put a hand to his aching head and groaned. None of that was a tense battle between good and evil for the life and soul of a man who was far better than he could ever hope to be.

"A decent man…" He shook his head as he got slowly to his feet, leaning heavily against the edge of his desk for support and balance.

He felt as weak as a newborn kitten and about as helpless. "Think, man! Think!" He hammered the heel of his hand against his forehead, making his headache worse. "Oh, God. What's to do? How can I save him?"

It was a hopeless situation. Daniel was hundreds of miles away and far out to sea. His fate would be in his own hands when Turner showed up and bared his dreadful fangs.

Claymore knew he could do nothing to help his cousin with that battle. So many things were too far out of his control. The most shocking thing of all was that the demon knew of Daniel and had presumably battled with him before and lost. That gave Claymore a small measure of hope all could be well.

The thought also eased the pain of his perceived perfidy in renting out his cousin's house to strangers for monetary gain. He'd been duped, taken over and made to dance to the tune of one of the blasted Devil's henchmen. The memory made him squirm as he pushed himself away from the desk to stand unaided.

He stared at the empty blotter, cringing to think how close he'd come to selling his immortal soul for that bag of gold and jewels. He'd barely escaped by the width of a single layer of skin. He had come that close to shaking the demon's unholy hand.

"A decent man…" he repeated, straightening his clothing. "Now I need to prove it. To myself and Carolyn."

Still feeling more than a little unsteady, he bent down to pick up his hat from the floor and placed it on his head as he walked to the office door. Taking his coat from the rack, he paused in the open doorway, looking back at the spot where Turner had been standing. The stench of sulphur in the air was fading slowly but still evident.

"A decent man…" Claymore repeated like a much-needed mantra. "I am about to become a decent man…"

※※※※※

"Come on, Scruffy…" Jonathan called as he opened the front door of Gull Cottage to let his pet outside to do his evening business in the bushes before dinner. "Outside, boy…"

He turned to find Claymore standing on the threshold with one hand raised as if he was about to knock. The boy caught his breath in startlement as he scowled up at his great-uncle. "Um, hello, Uncle Claymore…"

Encouraged by his young master's gasp of surprise, the dog took his cue to defend his family from the unwelcome intruder. He rushed forward, latching his bared teeth into Claymore's trouser leg and growling mightily as he tugged and worried at the expensive fabric.

"Get this blasted animal off me!" Claymore shouted, trying to dislodge his small attacker. "Call it off!"

"Can't do it. Mother said you're not allowed here anymore, Uncle Claymore," Jonathan pointed out over the noise, not making any move to secure his pet. "She said we're not allowed to let you in, no matter what you say. Dad said so, too. Before he went."

"But I need to see your mother…" Claymore retorted angrily, dancing around on one leg trying to dislodge the animal from his trouser cuff. "I know she'll want to talk to me. I have something very important I need to say to her."

Jonathan shrugged as he stood his ground. "She said you'd say that too." He smiled at the havoc his pet was creating. "Mother's up in her room working, and she said she's not receiving any visitors. Thank you for calling. Goodbye, Uncle Claymore."

He clicked his tongue and Scruffy reluctantly dropped his hold on Claymore's trouser leg. The boy seized his pet by the collar as the animal continued to growl while his young master dragged him back and put a hand out to close the door.

"Wait!" Claymore slapped the flat of his hand to prevent the boy from shutting the door in his face. "I really do need to talk to your mother. It's very important, else I wouldn't be here. I know they never wish to see me again."

"Mother's orders…" Jonathan shrugged, fighting for control of the door.

"What's going on out here?" Martha demanded to know as she walked from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. "What's all this noise about?"

She saw Claymore hovering in the open doorway and she frowned. "Oh no, you don't! You know you're not welcome here, Claymore. Shut the door, Jonathan and come away from there."

"Will someone please listen to me!" Claymore begged. "I have something very important I need to say. I must see Carolyn."

"Must, is it?" Martha shook her head. "Now see here, you—"

At the same moment, Carolyn appeared at the top of the stairs. "What on earth is all the shouting about?" she demanded to know. "What's going on down there?"

"Carolyn…" Claymore pushed past Jonathan, pulling off his hat as he hurried to the foot of the staircase. "I really do need to talk to you. It's urgent. A matter of life and death."

"Dad?" Jonathan's face lost all colour as he listened to his great-uncle. "Has something happened to our Dad? Why didn't you say?"

Realising his mistake, Claymore flapped both hands in agitation. "Oh, no, no, no..." He shook his head, trying to smile down at the boy. "No, as far as I'm aware, your stepfather's still hale and hearty. I… it's about something else."

He turned his gaze back to his niece, silently begging her not to dismiss him. "But I do need to have a word with your mother…"

Carolyn frowned as she stared down at him, seeing the earnestness of his face and manner. Something shivered up and down her spine. Some portent that made her catch her breath with concern. She had never seen her uncle looking so worried.

'Daniel…' her heart whispered.

She crossed the fingers of both hands behind her back, managing to retain her composure in front of her son. Jonathan was watching the pair of them with deeply worried eyes. Candy appeared in the open doorway to the kitchen, also looking concerned.

"Very well," Carolyn replied slowly, gathering her skirts as she began to descend the staircase. "I'll come down and talk to you. But whatever you have to say had better be good. It had better be very good, or my husband will make you rue the very day you were born, Uncle."

She ruffled her son's hair as she passed him and smiled at Candy as they both hovered anxiously. "It'll be all right. I'm sure it's nothing. Go and eat your dinner. This won't take long, I'm sure."

She shooed both of them back into the kitchen with an encouraging wave of her hand. Martha took the hint and hustled the children away from whatever was about to be discussed. She looked back, grimacing in sympathy as she shut the kitchen door behind them.

"Fair enough…" Claymore nodded quickly with a sigh of evident relief as he stepped aside to allow his niece to go before him into the living room and shut the door.

※※※※※

The oncoming storm raged and howled toward both ships as they heeled over and headed south, trying to outrun it to reach safe harbour. The moonlight was overcome and all the stars winked out behind the thunderhead that screamed like a million lost souls.

On board the Carolyn, the night watch hours ticked by on leaden feet, making each precious minute seem like an agonising eternity. A darkly sullen, bloodied dawn found them still managing to crest the waves with dogged determination on their southward tack.

The day wore on and they managed to keep ahead of the following nightmare that seemed to be tracking them like a bloodhound. The worried seamen, doing their best to keep their straining vessel afloat, it appeared as if every banshee and hellhound had been released from the depths of Hades to fall on them and ravage them from stern to bow.

They went about their duties with grim determination, not a man among them slacking in giving it their all and none complained. They were emboldened by the sight of their captain standing firm above them, fighting for their lives through the full force of the wind and rain that lashed down, overwhelming the scuppers and making the open deck a deadly dangerous place for life or limb.

Daniel refused to give up the fight. There was no respite or time to sleep. What little he managed to eat or drink was at the wheel, holding the course he'd set. Through the long daylight hours, he grasped it with both hands in an iron grip. He felt the incredible power of the ocean transmitting itself into the groaning timbers. The surges ran up into his steadfastly planted feet, travelling through his calves, thighs and abdomen before entering the broad width of his shoulders. The stretched muscles of his arms ached cruelly, but he was not about to lose his ship or his crew to the whims of a base demon.

He did spare a single moment to wonder what had riled Turner so mightily up this time. Not that the base spawn of the devil needed any encouragement to do his worst. He nursed his many imagined grievances like a miserly miser with his hoard of gold. His deep thirst for possession of Daniel's immortal soul went on unabated.

Daniel shifted his feet to set his stance anew, doing what he could to ease the searing pain of his shoulders and back. "Do your worst, demon!" His white teeth flashed in the sodden darkness of his beard. "You will never debase me or any of mine!"

As if in answer to his challenge, jagged bolts of lightning streaked across the sky behind them, as the storm began to struggle to make sufficient headway against the direction of the freshening westerly wind. As Daniel had predicted, even a demon could not go against Mother Nature when she decided otherwise.

The strengthening winds that had begun to blow out of the west carried within them the faint scents of home and safe harbour. Daniel pushed his wet curls back from his cheeks as he lifted his face into the wind, briefly imagining Schooner Bay and the house on the hill above the beach. He closed his eyes briefly, surrendering to sweet memories for a single moment out of time.

'Carolyn…' his heart whispered.

"I'm coming home to you, no matter what…" He blew a kiss into the raging wind. He prayed it would reach safety and home.

He knew his wife and children would be sitting down to their dinner right about now. Martha would be bustling from stove to table, carrying covered dishes of mouthwatering food. As the evening drew in, there would be talk of cards and games in the living room while Daniel and his lovely lady took time for some stolen moments of privacy in the warmth of the night, sitting side by side on the bench seat beside the front door. The evening would be flavoured with the scents and sounds of the ocean below the house, underscored with the sweet smell of the fragrant night stocks Carolyn had planted behind the stone wall.

That was the time they'd always cherished the most. Daniel would light his pipe or a cigar and sit back to enjoy it, with his long legs crossed at the ankles while Carolyn snuggled into his side with his free arm secure around her burgeoning waist.

They would talk of their day, speak of love, or say nothing at all. The warm communion of their hearts often made words unnecessary in the dreaming quiet.

Above them, the stars would shine as the moon beamed down benevolently. And then, as often happened before they were ready to go inside, one of the children would appear in the doorway encouraging them to come back inside with the challenge of a game of chess or cards.

Both parents would turn to each other and smile, knowing their stolen moment or two of communion was once again at an end. There would be others for as long as they had together in this world.

They would kiss before they rose and went inside because they would not have it any other way. They would shut the front door behind them without any sign of regret.

"You have no power over me, demon!" Daniel ground out through clenched teeth as he fought to maintain control of his vessel.

Beside him, Mr Jarvis stood watching his captain anxiously. He was alert for any sign Daniel was no longer able to keep piloting the vessel. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, waiting to jump forward to help. Neither of them had any intention of giving up. Jarvis could admire his captain's iron control even as he worried about the toll it was taking on him. A lesser man would have already failed, sending them below the waves to the watery embrace of Davey Jones.

So he waited and fretted and watched. It was all he could do. The battle had been well and truly joined and there could only be one winner. Jarvis grinned within his soaked beard, pulling his sea cap tighter onto his head.

The demon Turner might bluster and blow like the confounded coward he was, but to overcome Captain Daniel Gregg he would need greater weapons at his command than something as pathetic as a raging hurricane.

※※※※※

Carolyn frowned at her uncle. "I don't understand…" She shook her head. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"I'm saying it wasn't me…" Claymore spread his hands wide in supplication. "None of it. I was taken over. Possessed. Duped. I was not myself when I rented out this house behind your backs. In my right state, I would never have done such a dreadful thing. Not for all the money in the world."

Carolyn's brow creased as she regarded him with a great deal of scepticism. "I will say I didn't think it was like you." She shrugged. "But my father did see a bag of gold change hands between you and that man. I know you cannot resist the glitter of coins."

"Aye, I'll admit it did." Claymore paced the carpet beneath Daniel's portrait. "And your husband made sure I paid the price for that. I am not sorry now. It was a fitting punishment."

He stopped and turned to his niece. "But the fact remains that I was not in my right mind through it all. It was as if I was walking in a waking dream. Something took hold of me and made me do things against even my nature."

He walked to the couch to take her hand, pressing it beseechingly between his palms. "I hesitated to come here. To tell you everything. But I have no choice."

He bent down to kiss the back of the hand he held. "Dear Carolyn. You were the one who saved me and made me realise what I was missing in my life. What I had allowed to slip away from me in my greed and single-minded drive to succeed. You showed me a better way."

His lips twisted self-deprecatingly. "You made me wish to become a better man than the one I once was. You have made me over into a decent man with your unswerving love and many kindnesses. I can thank you, most heartily, for that. Don't you see?"

Carolyn turned her hand within his to grip his fingers tightly. "But if it wasn't your own greed and avarice that made you do what you did, then what did?"

Claymore's lips compressed. "It's not a what, but a who…" He passed his free hand over his eyes. "I didn't want to come here, to tell you everything. I have no wish to burden you in your delicate state. But I have been left with little choice. It seems your husband has been keeping some things to himself."

"Do not mistake me for some frail, delicate wallflower, Uncle. I do not faint at the slightest hint of trouble. I am made of much sterner stuff." Carolyn stared hard at him as Claymore seated himself next to her, still retaining possession of her small hand. "What things do you mean?"

"I fear my cousin's battles at sea have not always been against such human foes as pirates and buccaneers. At times, it seems he's been doing battle with the very devil himself. Or, at least, one of his base henchmen. I fear the worst may have come to pass…"

"Go on…" Carolyn turned to him, pressing her fingers into his to encourage him to continue with his halting tale. "Tell me everything…"

※※※※※

"I do believe we've gained some ground, Captain…" Mr Jarvis lowered his telescope from his eye. "The storm has fallen even further behind."

A ragged cheer rose from the waist of the ship as some of the men left their places to run for the rail to look behind them. The gap between them and the leading edge of the storm was widening, giving them some much-needed hope they could be spared.

"Avast that, blast you!" Daniel shouted down to his crew. "Attend to your duties! We're not out of the woods yet!"

Chastened seamen ran for their stations, none of them willing to look their captain in the eye. Each tried to pretend it was his fellow who was at fault. They laid their shoulders mightily to their appointed tasks.

"Take another reading, Mr Jarvis, if you please…" Daniel instructed quietly. "Is there any sign of the Rebecca?"

"Not for some time, Sir," the first mate replied anxiously. "She slipped away from us during the night. I fear the worst."

Daniel shook his head. "Then all we can do is pray for her safe return…" His lips tightened in a grim smile. "Though I doubt the demon will have managed to get the better of Lucius. He never has yet…"

※※※※※

"And you say this demon called George Turner is the one at the bottom of everything that has happened lately?" Carolyn asked, trying to make sense of what her uncle had just confided in her.

"For his base perfidy, yes." Claymore nodded. "He sought to possess my eternal soul, making his payment in gold and jewels." He held up his forefinger and thumb, almost touching. "I came this close to shaking his hand and sealing the deal. Then I remembered you, my dear. Your love and kindness toward me. I could not do it and told the demon so."

"Now he seeks to take Daniel from me, instead." Carolyn shook her head. "Why? What have any of us ever done to that ghastly man?"

"From what he said before he vanished, it seems he has battled my cousin before and lost. He carries a grudge bigger than the whole world. He has gone to exact payment in kind."

"Then we must pray fervently that he will not secure my husband's immortal soul. I will not allow it."

"We will hope and pray for the best." Claymore nodded. "I will go down to the docks and see if there is any word of either ship. Maybe someone will have carried word ashore."

Carolyn stood up. "You will dine with us first, Uncle. You looked quite pale. Have faith in Daniel. His is a much stronger will than any base demon who has crawled out of the pit."

"Thank you…" Claymore stood up next to her, looking relieved. He turned away to open the door, waiting for her to walk past him.

'Carolyn…'

"Daniel?" Carolyn frowned, hearing her name echo inside her mind.

'I'm coming home to you, no matter what…'

And then it felt as if someone had just kissed her cheek. She sensed the brush of a bearded face against hers and the soft press of warm lips to her temple.

She put a hand to her face, smiling through the sharp sting of unshed tears. "I know you will come home to me. I will wait forever for you. Be safe, my love. Be well…"

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