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Summary
“You’re trifling me,” he stammered, his fear rising steadily. “I’m warning you. Don’t trifle. Don’t you trifle.”
The man drew his sword faster than Stede thought was possible. Quickly and with sure strokes, the man sliced through Stede’s shirt like he was carving his name in the fabric. Stede had only ever known one person who could do such a thing.
“Izzy?” Stede gasped in shock.
The other man’s eyes blew wide as he stared at him, first surprise and then realization crossed his face.
“Stede?!”
Or...
What if Stede and Izzy knew each other before they met on the road with their hostages?
