Scarlett

by Christopher C Tubbs

  “What?” he asked Montoya.

  “Don’t ask. Will tell later,” he grinned then assumed a heroically neutral expression as Scarlett glared over her shoulder.

  She handed Montoya her weapons and walked into the sea. She dunked herself under and ran her fingers through her hair trying to clean it. A brush would have been better but that would have to wait for later. She felt hands rubbing her back and looked around, ready to punch whoever it was on the nose, but it was just Montoya. Berko and Emeka stood on the beach with her weapons keeping guard.

  When she got herself as clean as she could, she stepped back up on the beach and looked down at her soaking clothes. They would be ruined, of course, and it was lucky she had a second set in a chest in her cabin. Her warpaint was gone but she couldn’t worry about that. She and her men had a job to do.

  A messenger arrived.

  “Captain Browning?” he enquired, looking her up and down, eyes wide. Scarlett realized that her blouse had become completely transparent and he could clearly see her breasts and nipples through the fabric. She took her weapons from Berko and made a point of putting them back in place while glaring at the unfortunate individual.

  “Captain Mansvelt’s compliments, but Sir Christopher Mings has been wounded and the captain has taken command in his stead. He requests that you take your men, force the entrance to San Miguel Fort, and take it.”

  “Does he?” Scarlett snapped, very tempted to tell the little shit to get stuffed but instead replied, “tell him it will be in our hands in an hour.”

  They headed inland, Scarlett at the head of two hundred men, her own and a contingent of buccaneers. As they approached the fort, they came under sporadic fire from the battlements.

  “Archers! Shower that wall with arrows and keep their heads down,” she ordered.

  The archers formed up in two ranks of twenty and volley followed volley under the cover of which, men crept forward to sling grapnels up and over the wall.

  Scarlett ordered the Buccaneers up first. She would use them as shock troops to save the lives of her own and when one hesitated to start the climb, she pulled a pistol.

  “Get up that wall or I will give you an extra arse hole,” she shouted.

  Steven stepped forward and cajoled, encouraged, pushed, and kicked. The men went up and were soon fighting to clear the top of the wall. A second wave followed led by Steven, and Scarlett led the rest of the men to the main gate.

  The sounds of fighting diminished, and the gates opened. Steven grandly bowed and said,

  “Can I invite you in, good lady?”

  “Why thank you, good sir,” she grinned in reply as she stepped through.

  A small group of Spanish soldiers were clumped together in the central courtyard being poked and taunted by the privateers and buccaneers. One was made to run a gauntlet of men who battered him with the flats of their swords before he was impaled on a pike. The buccaneers were starting to torture men to tell them where treasure was hidden.

  Quite frankly, Scarlett didn’t give a damn what became of them but she did didn’t want anyone else finding any treasure except her.

  “Bring that one over here so I can question him,” she barked, indicating a slightly better dressed individual. Berko and Emeka took him from the men and dragged him over, holding him in front of Scarlett.

  “Montoya, please translate. Where is the gold store? You are here to guard something and I want it,” she asked, looking deeply into his eyes and stroking his face.

  “If you tell me, I will let you live,” she offered.

  He said nothing and his face hardened in defiance.

  “A brave man not afraid to die. I admire that, but you are misguided,” she saw he wore a gold crucifix, “you think you will go to heaven? Have you been a good man?”

  He just glared at her.

  “Stop that!” she ordered the men taunting the prisoners. “Bring them here. Line them up on their knees.”

  She turned back to the man.

  “You are an officer. Their officer, I believe.”

  His eyes widened as he looked at the men, several no more than boys.

  Scarlett walked down the line and looked at each in turn. She stopped by a fair-haired boy of about sixteen years old, wrapped her hand in his hair, and pulled his head back.

  “A remarkable resemblance. Your son?”

  A look of anguish told her all she needed to know.

  She pulled a pistol and placed the barrel against his temple.

  “Tell me.”

  Tears poured down the man’s face, and he shook his head.

  She pulled the hammer back to full cock and put the barrel back against the boy’s head.

  “Tell me.”

  He shook his head and lurched towards her but the grip of the two big men held firm. He closed his eyes.

  Scarlett fired and the man screamed.

  The officer’s legs gave way, but he was not allowed to fall.

  He opened his eyes. His son still knelt in front of Scarlett. The man who was knelt beside him lay in a pool of his own blood.

  “I will kill them one by one, and your son will die at the hands of my friend here,” she waved a hand at Montoya, “who will suspend him by his balls and carve trophies off of him while he still lives, all so your friends can keep their gold.”

  She smiled at him sympathetically.

  “Is it worth it?”

  The officer was broken. He was crying openly now and sobbed out, “No more! I will show you.”

  “There, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Scarlett smiled and he wondered how a demon could look so beautiful.

  The gold was hidden in a room built into the wall of the fort under one of the corner towers. The door was made of thick, iron-bound teak and locked with four large padlocks. He didn’t have the keys.

  “Bring over that cannon!” Steven ordered a group of their men.

  Scarlett looked over at the buccaneers who gathered in a group and were watching with belligerent expressions on their faces.

  Scarlett walked over after Montoya handed over her reloaded pistol, stopped in front of them, and waited. Her men, seeing what she was doing, formed up around the group.

  “What’s on your minds?” she asked. “You don’t look very happy given you just took a fort and we are just about to find what they were defending.”

  “And you were going to share that with us,” a particularly sharp faced individual snapped sarcastically.

  “You are?” Scarlett asked.

  “Jeb Sanders.”

  “Well Jeb Sanders, as even temporary members of my crew, you get equal shares, honour amongst thieves and all that.” She looked around the group. “But if any of you have any ideas about trying to make a few extra pieces of eight by double crossing us…” she left the rest unsaid but a growl from her men made the point.

  “Stand back!” Steven called and touched the match to the touch hole. The cannon bucked and slammed back into the door propelled by the extra charge and double shot to recoil most violently. The door gave way with a crash, shoved off its hinges by the impact of the heavy gun and its carriage.

  “Good idea, that,” Jim said to Daniel who was watching from atop the wall.

  “Yes, all he would have done is blow holes in it if he shot at it,” Daniel replied sagely.

  “Made a right mess of that wall, though,” Jim added, nodding at the wall where the shot had impacted.

  Berko kicked the remnants of the door away after the cannon was moved aside, allowing Scarlett to enter. Inside, on a table, was a complete solid gold alter set; a three foot high crucifix, a pair of four feet high candlesticks with a second matching pair of three feet high, a gold ornately engraved chalice and plate, an ornate gold and enamel screen, and, what looked like, a gold, glass-fronted, jewel encrusted relic box. She picked it up and looked through the glass at the skeletal hand adorned with rings and embedded with jewels. The name ‘San Miguel’ was engraved above the window. This exp
lained the officer’s reluctance to talk.

  As if all that wasn’t enough, there was a chest full of pieces of eight, pearls and gold bars. She was looking at the mother-load. There was a commotion outside, shouting in Spanish, and an equally loud response from Steven.

  Scarlett looked outside to see a black-robed priest and several novitiates being restrained by her men. Her eyes went flat. She heard that the inquisition was behind the execution of her men at Cartagena and had put a price on her head. She stepped back into the room and picked up an oil lamp, ran her fingers around the edge to cover them in lamp black, then using the alter plate as a mirror, applied her mask.

  Father Joseph was a Jesuit priest, the local representative of the inquisition and an enthusiastic burner of heretics. He was responsible for ordering the treasures from the church to be taken and secured at the fort, the strongest place in the town, but the idiots in charge of the militia only manned it with a small force. They preferred to fight in the open, on the rooftops and the high ground, than get locked up in the fort.

  He was being restrained by a large black man and a British sailor, and everyone was shouting at once. All of a sudden, a very feminine voice shouted something, and it went quiet.

  “Oh my God!” he thought as he saw a red-haired woman step out of the strong room, a black bar painted across her eyes. He recognized her immediately from the descriptions that were circulated along with the offer of a reward for her capture or death. Standing behind her were the other men that were described as being her bodyguards; the Indian and two blacks. They speculated that they were her lovers and called her the demon whore or a witch and said she would be burnt at the stake if they caught her.

  He crossed himself as best he could and stared wide-eyed as she approached. She moved like a cat, lithe and supple, balanced, ready to attack or retreat as required. She came right up to him and looked him in the eyes, hers were green with a cold, hard look. He saw his death in them and was afraid.

  He braced himself and called on his faith but under her gaze, it faltered.

  Scarlett looked at the man with absolute loathing. He stank, his robe was filthy, and she could see vermin crawling around his neck. Why did holy men feel the need to take their piety to those extremes?

  “What is his name and what does he want?” she asked.

  Archie Dawson was on hand and acted as interpreter.

  “Father Joseph. He says you are not to defile the relic of the holy Saint Michael.”

  “And what will happen to me if I do?” she asked.

  “He says you will burn in hell for eternity after you are burned at the stake for a heretic.”

  Scarlett laughed.

  “Hear that, men?” she cried out to the surrounding men, “these black crows want to burn me for a heretic. What say you to that?”

  A roar built up, and the men started to chant,

  “BURN THEM, BURN THEM.”

  The men smashed doors and gathered wood to make five bonfires and in the middle of each was a stake tall enough to tie a man to. Father Joseph was tied to the centre one, his novitiates either side of him. Lamp oil was splashed over him and the wood.

  “Get the treasure to the ship,” Scarlett ordered, and men formed up to carry the gold, others to guard it.

  Montoya came to her and held out the skeletal hand, which had been stripped of its jewels and rings. She took it.

  “Mostly glass,” he told her.

  “So, it seems that you will burn before me, crow,” she taunted the man, who was repeating something in Spanish over and over again.

  “How many have burnt at your hand just because they don’t worship the way you want? Well, I say screw you and burn in hell.”

  She took a burning brand from a sailor who stood nearby, tossed the hand at his feet, and followed it with the brand. Once she was sure the fire was well and truly burning, she turned her back on them and followed the men out of the gates, which she had the men lever off their hinges. This fort would need a lot of work to make it secure again.

  Once the loot was safely aboard the Fox, she turned her attention back to the town. They were on the Southern edge, and the thousand were attacking from the North. They could still hear shooting, so Scarlett deployed her men and advanced into the town. A pincer movement would end it.

  Knowing the Spanish were using the rooftops, she had half her force take to the roofs and pace the advance of her men on the ground. They worked on the principle of first come first served and methodically looted every house before moving on.

  By the time they met up with Mansvelt, it was all over. The Spanish surrendered with the loss of fifty Spanish and the invaders; thirty privateers and buccaneers. Over the next two weeks, the town was sacked, half of it burnt to the ground, and fourteen vessels captured.

  Chapter 16: Trade and treasure

  The Fox returned to Jamaica with the fleet, and the buccaneers who wanted to leave were given their shares. She offloaded and sold the loot that wasn’t convertible directly into bullion. The men were given shore leave and the whole port was one big party.

  Scarlett visited Sir Christopher and found that his wound was severe and disabling, confining him to bed.

  “We made our fortunes, Scarlett,” he winced as he tried to sit up. She helped him and propped him up on pillows. “We took over one-hundred and fifty thousand pieces of eight, even divided with the buccaneers, our captain’s shares make us rich.”

  “What will you do?” Scarlett asked him.

  “I will go home and recover there; they will send out a new commander. I miss England, even the rain and cold. It will be good to see her again.”

  She received a letter from her father. It had arrived the month before and finally caught up with her. He agreed with her on the need for their own ships and started looking for suitable craft. He was very pleased to hear about the amount of profit she was making and wished her luck in finding more. He did flag a caution that the government’s attitude to privateering was changing and that he didn’t think they would be given such free rein for ever. He suggested that she might look to buy a plantation or two as that would be an excellent investment.

  Scarlett had other plans. First, they needed to ‘bank’ their loot with the rest of their stash and that meant turning the large pieces into bullion. They set sail at the beginning of March and headed for St Lucia. During the trip when the weather allowed, they used the ships forge to melt down the large items they captured and cast the gold into small, half pound ingots.

  Daniel obtained a set of accurate scales, and after some experimentation, they were casting ingots that were surprisingly consistent. Each one was stamped with the ships Fox head emblem. When all the melting and casting was done, they added it to the hoard. They had close to two hundredweight of gold and silver.

  Scarlett was a very wealthy young woman and if she could get her share home, her family would be too.

  St Lucia hadn’t changed. Kefash and Absalom caught up. The little man hadn’t gone ashore during the fighting but was busy during the looting. He presented Kefash with a set of jade beads he found in one of the houses they cleared.

  Kefash was delighted. He had never seen jade before and these particular beads, with their gorgeous light green colour, were very striking.

  Scarlett told Kefash her plans, her Carib being good enough to chat with Absalom’s help.

  “I intend to sail back to Mexico and make contact with the Carib there.”

  “You must be careful. Some of the tribes are allies with the Spanish, some hate them. Some have accepted the new god and are under the influence of their priests.” Here, Absalom told Scarlett, “they are mainly Franciscans, the ones in the brown robes, and are more scholarly than their Jesuit brethren.”

  Scarlett nodded. She was a protestant, christened in the Church of England, but understood the Catholic church as the two weren’t that far apart. What she did despise, though, was the lack of tolerance exhibited by the Inquisition and what they
did in the name of religion. She was violent and cruel at times, but never without reason and she never used religion as an excuse.

  Absalom continued,

  “Our best bet is to try and contact the Mayans in the lands on the South side of the peninsula of Yucatan at a place called El Golfo de Guanagos. They may be prepared to trade with us.”

  “What goods should we take?”

  “Knives, axes, swords and if we can find some more of those Jade beads, they would fetch a high price,” Absalom replied.

  “What about amber?” Scarlett suggested.

  “What is that?” Kefash asked.

  Scarlett pulled a necklace out from under her shirt on which a burnt orange coloured Amber drop hung. It was part of the haul from the plantation and had a large mosquito embedded in the centre.

  The look on Kefash’s face told her everything she needed to know but Absalom explained,

  “We know about amber. We find it on the beaches sometimes and they dig it from the hills, but this is an unusual colour for them as here in the islands, it is blue and what washes up is green with wood inside it.”

  That gave Scarlett something to think about. She had never seen blue amber and asked,

  “Do they have any of the blue amber here?”

  Absalom asked and Kefash said something to one of his children, a little girl, that was hanging around and staring at Scarlett. She ran off then came back holding something in her hand. She shyly approached Scarlett and held it out. It was a crudely carved iguana made of brilliant blue amber.

  Scarlett looked at Steven in astonishment. It was beautiful!

  “That, made into jewellery, would make a fine price in England,” he mused.

  “I think we may have stumbled onto something here,” Scarlett stated thoughtfully, “do you know where the mines are?”