Pirate

Nicholas Archer—owner of Archer Worldwide Security.

Avery Company

Charles Avery—corporate raider and maritime salvager.

Colin Fisk—head of Avery’s security team.

Martin Edwards—Avery’s CFO.

Alexandra Avery—Avery’s wife.

Kipp Rogers—Alexandra Avery’s private investigator.

Winton Page—Charles Avery’s attorney.

Jak Stanislav—one of Fisk’s henchmen.

Marlowe—Fisk henchman.

Ivan—Fisk henchman.

Victor—Fisk’s new henchman.

Rogen—Fisk’s new henchman.

Scholars and Academics

Professor Ian Hopkins—Arizona, sixteenth- and seventeenth-century English literature.

Meryl Walsh, “Miss Walsh”—curator, British Museum.

Madge Crowley—librarian, King’s Lynn.

Nigel Ridgewell—King’s Lynn tour guide, former professor/expert in Old English.

Professor Cedric Aldridge—Nottingham University History Department.

Percival “Percy” Wendorf—retired professor, Nottingham University.

Agatha Wendorf—Wendorf’s wife.

Restaurateurs, Hoteliers, and Travel Guides

SAN FRANCISCO

Mr. Bryant—on-duty manager for Ritz-Carlton Hotel, San Francisco.

ARIZONA

Chef Marcellino Verzino—owner of Marcellino Ristorante, Scottsdale.

Sima—Verzino’s wife.

JAMAICA

Melia—waitress at restaurant, Jamaica.

Jay-Jay—owner of biker bar, Jamaica.

Kemar—car rental employee, Jamaica.

Antwan—biker at Jay-Jay’s bar.

Billy—biker at Jay-Jay’s bar.

BRAZIL

António Alves—hired driver, university student, São Paolo, Brazil.

Henrique Salazar—António Alves’s uncle.

Captain Delgado—captain of the Golfinho.

Nuno—youngest crew member of the Golfinho.

Police Officers

Sergeant Fauth—detective, Robbery Detail, San Francisco PD.

Sergeant Trevino—Fauth’s partner, SFPD.

Deputy Wagner—Carteret County sheriff’s deputy.

Prologue

Bishop’s Lynn, Norfolk, England

October 9, 1216

The first flurries of snow fell from the gray sky, the temperature plummeting as twilight deepened. William the Marshal, Earl of Pembroke, reined his spirited stallion to a stop, the three knights behind him following suit. Around them, the forest turned into a menacing maze of rustling shadows, the path no longer clear.

When William failed to see the horsemen they’d broken away from earlier that evening, he wondered for a moment if they had taken a wrong turn. But no. There was the twisted oak on the left, as he remembered. He and the three knights with him had ridden ahead to scout the path for the others who would be following the next day, guarding the king’s treasure. And though William had argued against the move, hoping to wait for more reinforcements, the king’s advisers insisted that it was important to secure the treasure’s safety — especially now that Prince Louis of France had taken London and was proclaiming himself King of England. With half of King John’s barons siding with Louis against him, he wanted the royal treasure out of the usurper’s reach.

Robert de Braose rode up beside him and William looked over. “My men should have been here by now.”

“Perhaps the colder weather has delayed them.”

William held up his hand, demanding silence. The faintest of sounds caught his attention, and he strained to hear. “Listen…”

“I hear nothing.”

There it was again. A rustling that differed from the wind in the trees.

Beside him, a whisper of metal as Robert drew his sword from its leather scabbard. Then a cry as several horsemen emerged from the forest, their swords drawn. William’s horse reared at the unexpected charge. He fought to stay seated. He heard the air swoosh as Robert’s sword arced toward him.

Instinctively, he lifted his shield. Too late. The sharp edge of Robert’s blade struck his rib cage. The tight chain mail of his body tunic absorbed most of the blow, though pain shot through him.

Had Robert mistaken him for the enemy?

Impossible, he thought as he drew his sword. He whirled about, then took out the horseman closest to him. The man’s body landed near that of William’s youngest knight, Arthur de Clare.

Anger surged through him as he turned to Robert. “Have you gone mad?” he asked, almost too stunned to believe he’d been ambushed by one of the king’s handpicked men.

“On the contrary,” Robert said. He urged his mount forward, swung again, but he no longer held the element of surprise. Their blades collided, metal ringing. “I have finally come to my senses.”

“By attacking me, you commit treason against the king. To what end?”

“Not my king, yours. I swear fealty to Louis of France.”

The betrayal struck deep. “You were my friend.”

Robert kicked at his horse’s flanks, sword lunging as he leaned forward, then pulled back at the last second.