Pirates, Passion and Plunder

by Victoria Vale

“Who says I’m stranded,” Nox quipped doing her best to keep both men in front of her as she searched for the best route to escape.

  “Well how’d you get here?” The second man asked tipping over the basket she’d filled with Plantain.

  “I swam, don’t you know I’m a mermaid,” Nox said rather surprised at how their expressions said they were considering if she was telling the truth.

  “You aren’t no mermaid,” The man eating her mangos said getting to his feet. “Mermaids wouldn’t be collecting mangos.”

  “Of course we do,” Nox said and willed the man to move a few more feet to the right so she could get past him to the trail leading to the beach. She still didn’t swim well but she could at least start towards the ship. “We use them to feed the sailors we lure to us and once they fill their bellies and fall asleep, we drown them, and eat them.” Both men gasped, looked at each other and stepped closer. The move did exactly as Nox hoped and bending she lifted a bunch of plantain. “Perhaps you might like these, and once you’re satisfied we can go down to the beach and lay in the sun? My sisters will arrive soon.”

  The men leaned in, their whispered argument told her she might have a chance with this story but while they were distracted she edged closer to the path. She was right at the top of it when they turned and looked at her. “You aren’t no mermaid,” one said and started getting to his feet.

  “You’re right, I’m not,” Nox said waited until the men looked smug in the conclusion then tossed the fruit at them. “Here,” she yelled but didn’t stay to watch if the move delayed them. She was running down the path, full speed, listening to the sounds of the men in pursuit as they gained on her. She’d a hundred feet or more before she hit the beach when she was tackled.

  Rocks and roots cut her, as the men tried to get control of her flailing limbs her clothes were torn, and when she started screaming a fist hit the side of her head, stunning her. She regained her senses only to find herself over the man’s shoulder being carried over the beach. She heard voices, a good number of them. Shouting, cheering and jeering as she was carried into a group of men she didn’t know and dropped on the sand.

  “Look what grows on trees, Captain,” the man who ate her mangos said, pride in his voice.

  “Well, well.” The sun was blocked out as a large man wearing far too ornate clothing stepped over her. “I think we’ve found the fruit that really tempted Adam in the garden.”

  “Nox.”

  The crowd parted enough she saw Mason making his way towards her along with at least as many men in this group. “Captain?” she yelled back.

  “That belongs to me,” Mason said and Nox pulled back. That? “That is mine,” Mason repeated stopping a good distance from them. “Send it this way.” It?

  “Now, now, Stille,” the captain, still standing over her bent to jerk her to her feet. “It seems, she was captured in all fairness. I think I’ll lay claim on her.” He turned his ugly glare on her. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, my little apple?”

  “No, I--” Nox started only to be cut off.

  “What Nox likes and doesn’t is of no concern. That is my property,” Mason snarled and stepped a bit away from the crew who backed him. “You’ll hand it over.”

  “My, how special you must be,” the captain said. “I’ve never seen Mason Stille not be willing to walk away from a woman. He discards them all rather quickly.”

  “No,” Nox denied, shaking her head. But even she didn’t know if she was denying she was special or this man’s opinion of Mason.

  “How much will you pay for this bit of cargo then, Stille?” the man called.

  “I’ll not pay anything for what I own. Hand her back,” Mason demanded and Nox almost rolled her eyes that he used ‘her’ and not ‘that’.

  “Well I think there should be compensation paid. I think… The same you paid for all the other… cargo.”

  What cargo? And how much did he pay for it? Would he pay it for her?

  “I don’t pay for what I own, so how about…” His words cut. “You hand Nox back to me and I…” He lifted his arm and pointed towards the cove. Everyone turned to look. The grumbling started immediately as all guns on the Honor were pointed directly at the smaller ship and given the way both sat in the water it was clear the other ship would be the loser in such a battle. “Don’t blow you out of the water. Hand Nox over.” Mason finished.

  “Your threats are… ungentlemanly and jeopardize our… business arrangement,” the captain said, taking Nox’s arm in a painful grip and stepping forward with her. “Is she worth it Captain?” Nox almost screamed when he only shrugged.

  “I could ask you the same,” Mason went on as from the ship the sound of men shouting, maybe ordering the cannons loaded. “And while you question my status as a gentleman, I must question your honor? All crew above board? Did you forget that part of the bargain? You’ve taken what belongs to me, won’t return it. How am I to think you’ll continue to honor our… business arrangement?”

  Next to her Nox heard the man growl and his grip on her arm loosed then fell away. Before she could take a step towards Mason the Captain grabbed her back, turned her to look at him and then putting his face so close to her own she could smell is pungent breath. “That man will cast you off soon, little apple. He never keeps a woman long. And when he does, whatever port you land, we’ll find you. But have no worry, we’ll pay enough you’ll be set for a… week. Maybe three days,” he said with a shrug before flinging her away. The men behind him laughed as she stumbled and fell into the sand.

  “Nox, come here,” Mason ordered. She scrambled up and all but ran to her crew. She didn’t run to Mason though, rather it was Little whose arms she sought. The man held her a moment then setting her back stripped his shirt off and dropped it over her head. It was practically a dress on her, but covered the parts of her exposed when her clothes were ripped.

  Both parties broke up and headed back to their respective ships. Nox was taken aboard on the first long boat. She was hardly on deck when she was swept up and plopped down on a water barrel. “Are you hurt?” Mr. Anders asked. Why, she didn’t know. He was lifting her hands and using a wet cloth to wipe the blood and scrapes. When he attempted to touch the spot on her head she’d been struck, she pulled away.

  “Leave me alone,” she snapped. She knew how to care for this. She’d done so often enough when she lived with Robert. At least then she might have been hit, but she’d never been referred to as some, some… object. Like a chair or a pisspot. He called her ‘that’. The memory of it made tears well in her eyes. First he left her to fend for herself, then he called her ‘that’ like she was just some piece of cargo he owned and when asked he refused to place a value on her and pay it to make sure she was safe.

  And worse, he just made her the target of a ship full of disgusting men who promised when Mason finally abandoned her they’d find her and take from her what they were denied today. How many others would do exactly the same to her once she was no longer something owned by Captain Mason Stile?

  All his fine promises what she experienced on his ship gave her strength, and control over her own life. His lectures she’d nothing to be ashamed about never included she might have to fear retaliation by those he associated with. At least when her family’s business failed she’d lived unnoticed. Mason put her right in front of people who’d hurt her if they got the chance. Was she supposed to live the rest of her life wondering when they’d come for her? Wondering if when they were through there’d be anything left of her. With three more months in his company, how many more times would she be placed in this situation? How many more men would set their sights on her, either in retaliation or even to simply show up Mason? And where would he be when they started coming for her? She’d known from the start he’d no plan to stand at her side in any permanent, honorable fashion, which gave her protections from such things. If she gave any credence to what the other captain said, Mason was in the habit of fornicating with, fuc
king, women and simply sailing away without a backwards glance. If those women were known to those men what hope did Nox have of staying hidden anywhere? Everyone knew everyone in the islands.

  “Captain on deck,” someone called out.

  Mason instantly started shouting orders, staying the raising of the sails, checking the status of the guns, setting men to keep an eye on the other ship until it was well and gone. The crew scrambled about to carry out his orders. She heard his footfalls as he approached his gait so noticeable to her now. He threaded his fingers through the hair at her temple and taking hold her chin forced her to look sideways. “Are you all right?”

  She slapped his hand away and jerked her chin from his hold. Without giving him an answer she hopped from the barrel and headed below deck. No, she wasn’t all right. She’d never be all right again, because she’d never know any degree of security again, after today, after he shoved her off.

  “Nox,” he yelled the way he did when he was taking the role of captain. But she wasn’t crew. She was little better than cargo, if that. “Nox,” he said directly behind her.

  “That?” she yelled spinning around and shoving him back. “That? It?” she screamed, shoving him again when he reached for her. “Is that how you think of me? Am I just some possession to be dismissed, discarded when I serve no purpose for you?”

  “Jane,” Mason said. In no way did his tone sooth, not when it sounded like he didn’t care to be bothered by this. When it seemed he didn’t share her concerns.

  “I’m not some fuck chair, or dish. I’m Jane Ann Rutherford, and I’m not your fucking possession,” she yelled, before spinning away and running for the lower decks. The very next time they put in at port she’d get off this ship and find a way to get back home. At least at home there were people who cared for her, loved her, respected her. She was done with Captain Mason Stille and the Honor.

  Chapter 14

  Mason leaned his hip on the aft railing and peered over. Nox sat with an old tarp wrapped around her on the balcony outside their cabin the same as she had the last three days. She wouldn’t talk to him, she could hardly look at him, and she sure as hell didn’t want him to touch her. He’d tried but she’d turn her head and let the tears roll down in silence every time. He’d not lied when he said he’d never raped a woman, but with Nox it was starting to feel like that was what he was attempting to do.

  “Captain?” Anders called pulling Mason away from the rail. “We’re four days out and you haven’t picked the cargo to off load.”

  Reaching up Mason rubbed the back of his neck and then tried to stretch the tightness away. He couldn’t keep letting that woman distract him from his duties. Hell distract everyone, as not a man on board wasn’t concerned at how she did nothing at all but sit on that balcony from sunrise to sunset. “I’ll look at the inventory now,” Mason said with a sigh.

  “Captain?” Anders said grabbing his arm and staying his retreat into the office. “Have you spoken with Miss Jane?”

  “I’ve apologized to her if that’s what you mean. I explained it wasn’t an insult but--” Mason hadn’t thought anyone could be so upset over word use in a ploy.

  “No, Captain.” Anders shook his head. “Have you spoken with her about what might have happened before she was carried to the beach?”

  Mason turned and looked aft. He hadn’t because he didn’t want to think about it. Nox hadn’t said anything about what happened in the time she was alone in the groves. He’d placed all his hopes she’d not been molested on the fact that she’d had time to fill all the baskets with fruit, fruits she wouldn’t even eat now.

  “Girl wasn’t raped,” Little said stepping up. “Girl get away, Captain scare her.”

  Mason knew this man was slow, but he was also one of the most observant men onboard. “What have I done to scare her?”

  The man made an angry jester. “Not Captain here, Captain Darkness. Captain scare her. Make her face go like sheet.”

  “Blake did say something to her before he let her go, captain,” Jones said stepping up with Mutt.

  “What could he have said to make her clam up like this?” Mason couldn’t see what words might have passed between them to sink a woman like Nox. Certainly in the time she’d been onboard she’d had some harsh things said to her, and she’d always responded with a stiff spine.

  “Maybe you ought find out,” Mutt suggested with some disdain, more so when he added, “Captain.”

  Mason rubbed his neck again and sighed. Maybe he should ask her what Blake said to her but… “I have duties I can’t be--”

  “We’re making port at St. Eustatius,” Anders said. “We’ve done this enough times, we know what might trade well. I’ll start the sorting and you can finalize it after you’ve spoken with her.” Anders shooed the others away. “Speak with her, captain, now. Before she drifts too far away.”

  Mason knew what the man was saying. These doldrums she was in wasn’t new to sailors and it did sometimes led to a desperate act. Another sigh and Mason gave the man a nod before heading for his cabin.

  Both doors were open, the breeze that swept through between them freshened, but chilled the space. Mason lifted the tie that held the main door open and shut it. What she might have to say might need to be said in private. Making his way towards Nox on the balcony, he kicked the second tarp she’d taken back under the bed. She used that one to pad the deck where she’d taken to sleeping. She’d start in his bed if he insisted but by morning she’d be curled on the floor in the corner against the bulkhead.

  He watched her a moment, knowing she knew he was there, but not acknowledging him. He’d no idea where to start, but perhaps the best way to gather wind in the sails would be to remind her he was captain on this ship. “Nox, get in here,” he snapped.

  For a moment he felt doubt it was the best approach as Nox didn’t exactly snap to, but what seem an eternity later she grabbed the railing and pulled herself to her feet. Clutching the tarp around her she turned and shuffled in. Head down and posture defensive, she didn’t acknowledge him.

  “Sit down, we’re going to have a talk,” Mason told her, keeping the authority in his tone. Prepared to step aside and let her pass by to the table, the surprise at seeing her drop to the deck against the bed cheered him a bit. At least she was trying to keep some of this on her terms. Mason took a seat on the deck opposite her. He waited but it was clear she wasn’t going to just open up. Inhaling deep, he got right to it. “Jane Ann, what did Captain Blake say to you before he let you go?” If he doubted this was the key he needed, those fled when she drew up her knees, put her head on them and started sobbing. “Jane?” She flinched away when he set a hand on her leg. “What did he say to you?”

  “He said when you finally shove me off, which you will, he’d come find me,” she told him with a sniff. Then with a toss of her head and an accusing look, “But he said not to worry once they were all done I’d have enough coins to last another three day.”

  Fuck. “Nox, he can’t hurt you. They can’t hurt you,” Mason tried to assure her. But it wasn’t a simple threat to her. It perhaps touched on something deep. She didn’t care to feel unsafe. She’d take risks but usually only after she’d measured them carefully. “It wasn’t but an empty threat.”

  “Was it? How can you know? You can’t” she spat out. “You can’t and why should you care if it’s not. I won’t be your concern once you have dropped me at some port and sailed off, probably with some new whore that will keep you company for six months.”

  “Nox,” Mason almost shouted.

  “No,” she interrupted. “No, you know I’m right. You know that is exactly how this will end. You’ll dump me somewhere and sail off, and I’ll spend the rest of my life having to look over my shoulder, waiting until someone or another who you’ve offended, challenged or just annoyed decides hurting me gains them satisfaction. I don’t deserve that. I don’t.”

  “Jane,” he tried again. She knocked his hand though when he re
ached for her.

  “I don’t deserve that in any way. I’ve never been unkind to anyone, not ever, not even when I’d have been better served to only look out for my own interests. I don’t deserve to be treated like some… tool, to be used how anyone who might want, wills.”

  “No,” Mason agreed.

  “Maybe all you find me good for is fornication and fucking, but I used to be respected. I deserve to be respected. If I won’t ever be loved I should at least be respected. I at least deserve that,” her voice cracked and she again set her head on her knees. “It’s not so much to want.”

  Mason rolled to his knees and crawled towards her. Sitting again, but so his legs were around her and he could pull her close. She didn’t resist and he took it as a sign of progress. “Nox,” he started

  “I shouldn’t have to wait to have ills visited on me by someone I’ve never wronged.”

  “No, you shouldn’t. And you won’t. Nox if I thought for a second Blake and his crew was a threat of any kind, I wouldn’t have let them sail away. He’s a blowhard. On top of that he knows he’d never find welcome at any port. The moment he docked he’d be arrested and hanged.” He put his arms around her and squeezed. “No one is going to get you, no one is going to use you, and you’re deeply respected. This crew respects you. They care for you as well. All of it. Me included. We don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Of course not, because then who would the captain bed?” she grumbled, pulling back and wiping at the tears on her face. “Something happens to me, before a replacement is found… who do you fornicated with then? Who’d keep you satisfied and in good humor if not for me? Who would you take out your frustrations on if you don’t have me to fuck?”

  “I don’t take out my frustrations on you Jane, that’s not fair,” Mason snapped back, hurt she might have ever thought such a thing. In all the moments they’d shared, publicly and privately he’d never resorted to taking his frustrations out on her. Not sexually anyway. She’d felt his hand, or the strap enough. But each time it was earned. And she knew it or she wouldn’t have apologized.