Scarlett

by Christopher C Tubbs

  The man looked at her, horror at the choice clear in his expression.

  “Last chance. Choose or die.”

  He chose to live.

  “Every one that opposes me has to be balanced by a life. If one of my men is killed, then two lives will be taken to balance it, or two men must replace him. Tell your shipmates and spread the word. If you want to live, cooperate when you see my flag.”

  She walked back up to Don Carlos.

  “Well, you have had time to think, will you pay the ransom?”

  “If I don’t?”

  “I will give your wife to my men and kill your sons in front of you before I kill you.”

  The Don sighed, “You are a barbarian. It would seem I have no choice.”

  Scarlett didn’t care what he thought as long as he told everyone he met about her.

  They agreed to take him to Cartagena where the Merlin would take him ashore. His wife and children would be freed as soon as they received the money. He gave his word he would see to it that the Merlin would be left alone.

  It all seemed to be going to plan until the Merlin didn’t return on time.

  “They should have been back by now,” Daniel said to Steven as they stood by the rail looking towards the port in the distance. They were a couple of miles off and Steven raised a glass to his eye to take a long, hard look. He removed it, rubbed his eye, and looked again.

  “Scarlett! Get Scarlett up here NOW! Steer us closer, Jim,” he cried.

  Scarlett came up on deck and asked,

  “Are they coming back?”

  Steven just pointed and handed her the glass. What she saw almost stopped her heart.

  The Spanish were erecting crosses on the harbour wall and attached to each cross were two of the Merlin’s crew, one either side. They were crucifying all of them.

  As they got closer, they started to recognize individuals, and her heart lurched as she saw Fran being led out, his hands tied behind his back. He was staggering, and they kicked him to keep him moving. She could see blood on his shirt.

  He was forced into a man shaped gibbet and hoisted up on gallows that hung out over the sea. She could see the cage of the gibbet was so tight around his body that he couldn’t move. They were going to leave him in there to starve to death.

  “Take us in! We have to rescue them!” she cried.

  “Scarlett, think!” Steven shouted at her as he grabbed her arms to stop her mid-stride. “They have forts either side of the harbour entrance. If we try and force it, they will blow us out of the water, and that’s just what they want us to do. Look at the ramparts. They are lined with soldiers.” The walls of the town had cannon mounted every twenty yards or so and were lined with soldiers in gleaming helmets and breastplates.

  Scarlett looked at him in horror for a long moment then her expression changed, the horror and anguish replaced by anger and determination.

  “Load the starboard battery with grape shot,” she ordered, “and bring the woman and his sons up on deck.”

  Steven knew the look and asked,

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Their cannon on the walls are set up to stop anyone from landing,” she stated.

  Steven nodded.

  “Their gunners are soldiers,” she explained as if talking to a child.

  He nodded again.

  “They shoot at fixed points as those big guns are hard to traverse so if we are moving, it will throw them off their aim.”

  He began to see what she was about.

  “I want those three,” she pointed to the woman and two soldier boys, “tied in front of the barrels of the second, fourth, and sixth guns. Then hang the rest from the yards.”

  Steven was about to say something, but she just pointed at the line of crosses.

  “They started this.”

  He got a hard look in his eyes and started shouting orders.

  On shore, the Spanish authorities stood next to an ashen faced Don Carlos on the battlement of Castillo Grande. There was a black robed Jesuit monk with a harsh face flanked on either side by novitiates, the governor, a general, and the leader of the trade guild. The monk had persuaded, no, commanded in the name of the inquisition, the governor and general to forbid Don Carlos to pay the ransom and instead to storm the Merlin and take the survivors prisoner.

  “Crucifixion of these pirates was a master stroke; we need to show them we will not give in to their barbarism,” the Governor praised the monk.

  “They set themselves against the holy Spanish Empire. We must not tolerate challenges to our authority,” the monk, who was known as Father Ignatius, replied, his voice raspy as though he had gargled glass. He was appointed Inquisitor by the King and the College of Cardinals and had the power of the inquisition behind him.

  There was a sob from Don Carlos. The monk looked at him and said harshly,

  “Pull yourself together, man. Their sacrifice will strengthen the empire and let our enemies know we are prepared to do anything to protect it.”

  Don Carlos looked to the sea. His mouth dropped open as he spotted the Fox. The general followed his gaze and gasped,

  “What are they doing?”

  The Fox sailed in under almost full sail and turned to pass within two hundred yards of the sea wall where they could be sure they had enough depth of water. Scarlett had a red flag raised beneath her own signifying no quarter; the bodies tied across the gun barrels and hanging from the yards were clearly visible.

  As they swung parallel with the wall, they clewed up the mainsail to get it away from the guns and slowed slightly. They came up on the line of crosses and fired one after the other. Most of the men on the crosses died quickly which was preferable to the slow death brought by crucifixion. The woman and her sons were blown in half when their guns fired their blood turning the smoke pink, the halves hung down between the guns their guts splattered the sea.

  The Spanish guns fired as they passed but most of their shots went wide or high, the odd one went through the rigging, but none scored a direct hit. The gibbet approached, Scarlett went to the last gun in the battery and took the linstock from the gun captain without a word.

  He stood beside her and watched as the cage holding Françoise approached. He tapped her on the shoulder. She lowered the burning match to the touchhole and as the powder fizzed, she looked to her lover and said goodbye. On the ramparts, the governor looked on in horror and wondered if they had just unleashed hell.

  Two days later, the Fox was still cruising just over the horizon from Cartagena. Scarlett knew that to attempt to attack the town would be suicide. It had a fortified wall around it, the harbour entrance was defended by forts on either side, and the Spanish had a large army based in the town. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t extract her revenge; it was the major trading town for the region, which meant a lot of ships came and went.

  She cried in the privacy of her cabin, and she wore her warpaint whenever she was on deck. There was an addition; there were now two blood red tears on her cheek.

  They spotted a sail heading towards the port and steered a course to intercept, the red flag flying. They took the ship, a decent sized merchant, and Scarlett decided it was a keeper. The crew wasn’t so lucky. They hung all ten of them from their own yards and sailed the ship past Cartagena in sight of the walls. The city’s guns spoke but the Spanish aim hadn’t improved, and they were at the edge of their range.

  They captured another ship the next day and the whole macabre pantomime was acted out again. This proved to be too much for the Spanish, who sent out a squadron of three ships to chase them off.

  Scarlett and her two prizes set off Southwest, forcing the Spanish into a stern chase. They were able to stay ahead even though the merchants were slow and gave them the slip overnight. The Spanish captains didn’t appear to be very enthusiastic about catching them.

  They cruised up the coast looking for opportunities and came upon a bay with around a twenty-mile wide mouth. There were a couple
of settlements inside and they went in to take a look.

  The first they came across was an Indian village, which they ignored. The second looked to be occupied by settlers as it had neatly laid out fields and a wooden dock with a pair of European style boats tied up.

  “Prepare a landing party. We need fresh water and food and the Spanish can provide them,” Scarlett ordered and supervised the arming of the men herself.

  They anchored a cable offshore and ran out the guns, but Scarlett had no intention of wasting the powder. She had two boats full of heavily armed men and stood in the prow of the lead boat as it was rowed to the beach.

  The residents took one look at them and evacuated the village, disappearing into the jungle. The houses were log cabin in style with a couple of rooms and an outside kitchen. The doors had no locks, so they quickly searched them and gathered all the available food down on the beach. Fresh water was raised from the well at the back of the settlement and poured into casks.

  “Captain!” called one of the men, “look at this.”

  Scarlett walked over to where he pointed to a large pile of shells and picked one up.

  “What type of shells are these? she asked, holding it up.

  “Oyster, Captain.”

  Scarlett’s eyes widened.

  “Pearls,” she breathed.

  “I want the whole village searched for hiding places where they could store a strong box,” she shouted to the men, who dropped what they were doing and went to obey. There was soon the sound of floors being ripped up and cupboards smashed as the men literally tore the village apart in their search.

  After an hour, one of the men came out of a pig shed with a small chest that was about a foot long, nine inches deep, and the same high. It was strongly made of a hard wood, banded in iron, and had an oversized lock.

  He placed it on the ground at her feet.

  “It was hidden under a feeding trough for the pigs,” he reported, and Scarlett wrinkled her nose at the smell. He was covered!

  “Get a pry bar and get that lock off,” she ordered, and then to the man, “you get a bonus for finding this, but go and wash all that shit off before you get back on my ship.”

  He walked away to take a dip in the sea, chuckling.

  One of the other crewmen was listening and brought over an iron bar, which he put through the shackle of the lock and twisted. The lock came off. Scarlett knelt and raised the lid.

  She drew in a deep breath; the chest was half full of pearls.

  “¡No! no los tome. Es todo por lo que trabajamos!” shouted a woman who ran out of the trees and headed towards her.

  Scarlett didn’t hesitate, drew a pistol and when the woman got within twenty feet, shot her in the chest. Several people who followed stopped and ran back to cover.

  “Anybody else leaves the trees, kill them,” she ordered five of the men who were armed with Arquebus. “The rest of you, get the boats loaded.”

  Chapter 10: Pillage and Plunder

  “Hidden in a pig shed,” Steven laughed, “they must have thought the shit would put anyone off looking.”

  “Yes, they didn’t bank on Sam Foyle. He was a pig farmer when he was ashore,” Scarlett giggled.

  Steven looked at her and noticed the wounded look in her eyes, recognizable despite wearing her warpaint almost continuously. But she could see humour in things, so she was slowly mending.

  “He brought the pig with him and it’s now in the foredeck manger. He said it’s pregnant, so we will have piglets to fatten up.”

  “Well, he can look after them,” Steven concluded.

  Scarlett gazed towards the shoreline as they cruised West under light sails.

  “I think we should check out all the settlements along this stretch of coast. People don’t come here just to farm and next time, we will try and take some captives for sale at the slave market,” she said thoughtfully.

  “Good money in slaves,” Steven agreed.

  The next settlement they came upon was larger with plantations ranging out around it. It was in fact, a small village and had a proper dock which could take larger ships. There looked to be shops and a tavern along the waterfront, a large church, and a berm with a couple of cannons overlooking the dock.

  “They’ve noticed us,” Steven observed as he watched men run out of the tavern to the berm. “Not very welcoming, are they.”

  “There are more coming from the far end of the houses,” Scarlett added, looking through a telescope her brother gave her. “Soldiers, about thirty with guns.”

  “Do you think they have something they want to protect?” Steven muttered. “As tempted as I am to blast them to hell, I think we should mark this town for a visit later,” he suggested as he watched the professional way the soldiers formed up.

  “What, and leave it to someone else to pluck?” Scarlett snapped. She had a stomach-ache and her monthly period started, which always made her tetchy.

  Steven read the weather signs and decided, wisely, to hold his peace.

  “Jim, bring us to two cables from the shore, larboard battery load with ball and run out, raise the colours!” Scarlett ordered; her voice vibrant.

  The men cheered and manned the side. There was no need to clear the deck as they were only facing two cannons.

  “Target the berm first,” Steven advised.

  “Yes, with that out of the way we can take our time with the rest,” Scarlett agreed.

  The order was given, and the guns were trained around, the men sweating in the heat. One after another, the gun captain’s arms were raised to signify they were ready.

  The defender’s cannon fired, one ball passed above where Scarlett and Steven stood, the other splashed down astern of them.

  “Fire!” Scarlett shouted.

  Smoke bellowed out and, as the wind was on their starboard quarter, blew forward and away so Scarlett and Steven could see the gouts of dirt thrown up by the balls as they impacted with the berm. Both guns were still in operation.

  “Reload! Give them another one,” she called, “a guinea to the crew that knock over one of their guns,”

  This time, she saw the gun captains take careful aim and immediately fire rather than wait for a broadside. Gun number five scored the first hit, sending the righthand gun cartwheeling away. The next three guns were close but the remaining Spanish gun got off another shot which tore a chunk out of the rail, wounding two men.

  Gun two won the second guinea as with a resounding clang, the remaining gun was up-ended and most of its crew killed.

  “Reload with grape and give those troops a dose!”

  The troops stayed in formation and were setting up in two ranks near the dock. There was an officer of some sort marching up and down in front of them waving a sword and shouting.

  “What an idiot,” Steven exclaimed, “didn’t he see what the guns did to that berm?”

  The battery fired again in a ragged broadside. The effect on the troops was devastating and when the smoke cleared, all that was left of them lay in a bloody swathe in front of the shops, which also gained significant damage from the hail of shot.

  “Take us in, Jim. We will tie up on the dock.” Scarlett grinned at the quartermaster. Jim, cautious as ever, called for a man to go to the chains and swing a lead. He didn’t want to be the one to run them aground.

  The men didn’t need to be ordered to arm themselves and were lined up at the side ready to jump ashore as soon as they were alongside.

  “Remember we want captives!” Steven reminded them.

  “Let’s go!”

  The crew went through the town like a vengeful hurricane, dragging people out of their homes and the shops and herding them up near the dock. The sight of the remains of the troops made many sick and it was a sorry crowd of terrified individuals that Scarlett confronted with Archie to her right and Montoya to her left.

  “Who is your leader?” she asked, Archie translating.

  A man was pushed to the front. He was dressed as a s
hopkeeper and had an apron around his waist.

  “If your people cooperate, they will be unharmed. If they resist in any way, they will be killed. If they kill any of my men, I will kill two in retaliation. Is that clear?”

  The man confirmed that he understood, and Scarlett left them to examine the goods that her men were looting from the shops. Mostly, they were ships stores and provisions. So, they must expect ships to visit here to resupply, she thought to herself and wandered over to one of the shops to see what was going on.

  She naturally moved quietly and entered through the open door unnoticed by the crewman, who was knelt behind the counter in front of a cupboard intent on something. She stepped up behind him quietly and watched as he pulled a leather bag that chinked musically out of the back of the cupboard and slipped it inside his shirt.

  She silently stepped back to the door and kicked it back against the jam.

  “Anyone in here?” she called.

  “Me, Captain,” Arnold Stoggins, Stogs to his shipmates, called back and stood up from behind the counter.

  “Find anything?” she asked innocently.

  “Strong box hidden in the back of this cupboard,” he said and held it up so she could see the pile of small denomination coins it held.

  “Put it with the rest,” she said and turned away after a cursory look around at the now wrecked and empty shop. She watched as Stoggins took the box to the pile of loot and placed it on top of a barrel of nails.

  He was about to walk away but froze as he heard the click of a pistol being drawn back to full cock.

  “Now, I do believe you signed up to our charter and article five of the charter says, we don’t hide stuff from each other. We share everything we find. I think there is something in your shirt you want to share,” Scarlett said softly.

  Stoggins swallowed hard and reached inside his shirt. The bag clinked as he placed it on top of the strong box. Scarlett indicated he should move away and holstered her pistol after lowering the hammer. Montoya stood nearby and had a tomahawk in his hand, ready to protect her if needed.