The girl’s collapse took Bane by surprise, and he frowned as the captain fell to his knees beside her.
Bane kicked him aside. “Leave her! Touch her and you die.”
The man moved away, eyeing Bane, whose crimson-lined cloak billowed in the sea breeze, spreading like evil wings. He smiled and strolled along the deck, surveying his new ship. The captain leant against the helm and fingered his burnt cheeks, his eyes flicking to the comatose healer.
Bane stationed himself in the bows as his men filed aboard, casting him furtive looks. Last, the demon steed boarded at his command, the deck smoking under its hooves, and joined him. Mord delivered Bane’s soothing potion, and the Demon Lord settled on a coil of rope. The soldiers fumbled in the rigging as they followed the captain’s shouted instructions, and the ship left the harbour.