alive, maybe we can talk. Why don't we try and find some shade ourselves?"
"You seem exhausted." As she looked at him, realizing that even his brown eyes seemed pale, she found herself almost reluctant to raise the matter of Jeremy. Maybe he had enough to worry about.
"Bone-tired is more the word. But we've got the fleet out of range for a while. Now we just have to worry about what they'll think to try next."
Hearing the open concern in his voice, she wrapped a consoling arm about his waist as they walked down the stone steps of the abandoned breastwork. "But the invasion failed. This round is won, isn't it?"
"If you can call that massacre last night 'winning,' then I suppose you could say so." He heaved a weary sigh. "Planters make poor soldiers, Katy. As best I can tell, we lost eighteen men killed outright. And a lot more were wounded. Some of them will doubtless die too, given this heat. So all we did was drive the Roundheads back to sea for a while, but at a terrible cost." He looked down. "They took some prisoners. Two longboats full. Probably about thirty men, though we don't really know yet who's captured, or missing . . . or just gone off to hide."
"Well, that's not so many."
"True enough. We managed to take a few prisoners ourselves, maybe half a dozen or so. . . . I guess maybe you didn't hear. Jeremy Walrond has disappeared. We think he was taken prisoner."
"Thank God. Then he's not dead." She stopped still. "But . . . captured? Poor Jeremy. He'd probably sooner have been killed. He was so proud."
"Anthony's proud too, and he's taking it very hard. When we heard Jeremy was missing, I offered to take the command here, to let him go back to Bridgetown and see if he was with the wounded. Then somebody suggested that Jeremy probably had surrendered, and Anthony threatened to kill the man. It was plain he needed some rest."
She stood silent for a moment, then looked away sadly. "What do you think will happen now?"