Justified Treason (Endless Horizon Pirate Stories, Book 1)
Page 20
As I neared the captain he raised my hand before the crew and announced me as the man who had captured the navigator. The crew cheered for my accomplishment and I humbly nodded my head while attempting to simmer the flush on my cheeks.
He then awarded Paul Redding for cornering Captain Flynn, and then called upon a few others who had performed honorably in battle. I was relieved to hear the ceremony come to its end without anyone mentioning the murder of Dedrick Morley, but of course he had to ask, “Is anybody sure of who took down the captain?”
The men bustled in concern over the matter, and a few of them confirmed that Captain Flynn hollered that Charlie shot him. All the men looked at me, and my cursed cheeks flushed again. The last thing I wanted was attention. I felt the ship wobbling over the tide as I spoke in a quiet and insecure version of my manly voice. “Yes, it was me.”
Captain Langston raised my hand again and commended me for conquering the two most valuable captures of the mission. After acclaiming my good deeds, he asked if I would be his first mate. Thinking the fame would cast me in a more prominent light and risk my disguise, I attempted to back out. “But I am just a humble deckhand, Captain Langston.”
Oliver assured, “These courageous acts have earned you more weight for your title. All honorable men have started somewhere, Charlie Bentley.”
Realizing I would have more leverage and gain more information to help my buccaneers if I took the position, I decided to accept the offer. Like a true pirate, I smiled, “I would be honored to work as your first mate, Captain Langston.”
With all matters of business settled, Oliver insisted on a prayer service for the fallen men from each side of the battle. Some of the crewmen seemed uneasy about the notion of praying over the souls of pirates, but Oliver was a man of justice, and as far as he was concerned, they were also God’s children. After the prayer was said, the bodies were dropped into the sea, and Captain Handlin ordered his crew to make way.
As Liberty Anne sailed off, I realized how few men were left under Oliver Langston’s command. Though their numbers were small, their mass still outweighed their prisoners and they took their positions on the Wind of Glory with a victorious pride.
Chapter 11
Wayward Immersion
As told by Charlotte Wetherby
Morning light illuminated a rain filled sky, and Wind of Glory sailed slowly over a gray and quiet sea. Captain Langston called for a meeting in his quarters, and now being the first mate, I was granted the seat next to his at the captain’s table. Paul Redding and Doctor Reedy sat with us as well. While discussing the matters at hand, the cabin creaked and groaned in the tossing wake, and a salty mist from the morning rain made its way through the opened stern window.
Oliver looked as if he hadn’t slept at all, but even with the dark rings under his eyes he kept his narrow shoulders proud and his voice rang astute. “Thanks to the help of the honorable Charlie Bentley, we have acquired the wanted pirate captain, Dedrick Morley, as well as the mysterious but so stated valuable navigator. Yet, our mission is far from complete. There are many perilous issues that could arise while asserting our accord with this navigator, but before we even begin to stress over such matters, we need to get Morley’s rotting body back to Port Royal. Before it raises a stench.”
Paul Redding agreed. “Aye. Fancy the gov’ner should be heavier with our reward since we got ‘im that other pirate captain and this hold full of Spanish gold.” He rubbed his dirty hands together. “Plus, I can’t wait to see ‘em pirates hangin’ sloppy dead at the gallows.”
The more I got to know Paul Redding, the less I liked him. He was very conceited and condescending; acting as if he knew all there was to know about life, but being the illiterate oaf he was, I figured most his boastings were fabled.
Continuing to discuss the details, I attempted to show an active opinion, while balancing between my loyalties, but all the while I was terribly distracted by the map on the wall above the bookshelf. The compass rose matched Sterling’s tattoo and theB in the corner indicated that he had drawn this map himself. I was ever so impressed by the perfection of his artwork and wished to wander closer to the piece so I could eye the fine details.
As if I was not distracted enough, I found it especially difficult to keep a straight face while the captain requested for the navigator to be delivered to his quarters. Paul Redding stood up. “I’d be ‘appy to drag that filthy ‘ol piece of bilge rot up here fer ye, Captain.”
I resisted my urge to scowl at the haughty man, and rather allowed my heart to flutter while I awaited Sterling’s arrival.
It wasn’t long before I heard the crewmen forcing Sterling down the hall. He was fighting their might while he cursed at them, and I was tempted to laugh at the colorful insults he used. Though it was difficult, I managed to keep my professional demeanor intact, even after I heard Sterling throw one of the men against the wall. I hoped it was Paul. The group flurried to contain him, and Oliver stood up to control the chaos just as they shoved my forbidden lover through the door.
The moment Sterling Bentley entered the room, we shared a stunning dash of eye contact that electrified my soul. I was sure no one caught on to the connection between our gaze, but I was humored by the way Sterling so quickly extinguished his violent mood. Perhaps he thought better of acting a riot in front of me.
Assuming a solid posture, he appeared considerably calm after the brash escort, but still looked as if he could attack at any moment. His eerily volatile presence seemed to fill the room with an awkward mix of suspense and intrigue, and I was amused by the mixture of expressions the men at the table observed him with. Paul Redding sat with his arms crossed over his bulky chest, looking smug, and of course Doctor Reedy was smirking with disgust. Yet, Captain Langston seemed to be reviewing the mysterious navigator with great interest. As for me, I was resisting the urge to drop my jaw.
Sterling’s rugged look was unbelievably ravishing. The crew had taken his hat, his various weapons, and his duffle bag, so he was light without his effects, but his handsome appeal was just as stunning as ever. In fact, my memory of him had hardly lived up to the reality of his attractive attributes.
His golden hair was untied, dampened from the rain, and sprawled across his broad shoulders. He wore the bloodstained Spanish coat I had sliced open, and in between the tattered fabrics, I could see the various wounds that slashed across his strapping torso. His green eyes looked fierce as a stormy sea, and he had acquired a vicious scar on his cheek that intensified his already threatening look. I was also enticed by the mustache that had grown over his lip, the same fire colors of his goatee. Oh, those lips made me want to kiss him. How could he be so damn desirable in his tattered state of imprisonment?
I was awoken from my shielded reverie as Captain Langston asked, “What is your name, son?”
After Sterling answered, Oliver looked at me with a curious nod. “Ah, the same last name as my assistant. Is there any relation between the two of you?”
Quick as I dashed my insulted rebuttal, Sterling also responded with a sting of distaste. “I’d never seen that volatile man ‘til last night.”
“I do apologize for the misconception.” Relieved to hear the captain move on so easily, I listened closely as he resumed his cause. “Now, let us carry on in business, Mister Bentley. Though you are guilty of piracy on the high seas; theft, battery, and other said violence, I do understand that you know the way to a vivacious treasure.”
Sterling agreed with a cocky nod. “That I do. But if that’s all ye wanted ye could ‘ave asked, instead of killin’ off all me crew.”
Noting the nonsense of his statement, Oliver looked annoyed. “What’s done is done. My men have already cleared the key from your belongings, and if you are willing to lead my crew to this Lovers’ Treasure, the governor has guaranteed a pardon for your crimes.”
Sterling nodded his head with amusement. “A pardon, aye? That sure as hell sounds better than hangin’. What about me cre
w? Ye gonna pardon them too?”
“Though it is quite thoughtful of you to consider your men, I cannot set them free. The fact that I kept them alive at all is more generous than I need be, especially in terms of that ox of a man, Faron Flynn.”
Sterling bit his lip as he laughed at the captain’s term for Faron. “He is rather ox like. I’ll ‘ave to remember that one.”
Paul Redding interjected, “Thar won’t be much to remember when yer swingin’ limp at the gallows.”
The visual made me shudder. Sterling rubbed his neck as if he was contemplating the rope and Oliver pressed, “The choice should not be difficult to make, Mister Bentley. I consider myself to be a fair man, and though I have the power to bind you for your skills, if you are fair to me, I will be fair to you. The easier this goes, the higher your reward will be.”
“A pardon and a reward? Though I hardly trust ye’d truly reward me, I know damn well ye’d be savvy to hang me. So looks like I’ll be workin’ for ye. But yer gonna have to tell yer clapper-clawed crewmen to have some respect. I can’t be ‘aving them roughing me down the halls if I’m chartin’ ye course.”
Sterling glared at Paul Redding with a vicious scowl, and though Paul looked away with an irritated chuckle, Doctor Reedy sat back in his chair with a shiver.
Captain Langston easily concluded. “Now, with our accord in place, let us take a look at your maps.”
While Doctor Reedy gathered the charts, Oliver removed the vase from the table, and Sterling squinted at the ridiculous piece. “I was kind of hopin’ that thing would ‘ave shattered during the battle.”
Oliver agreed that it was indeed a hideous vase.
While I helped Doctor Reedy roll out the charts, Sterling made a silly face as he rattled the chains on his wrist. “Can’t do much chartin’ with these cursed binds on me hands.”
Oliver fanned his hands at Sterling to tame the clamoring ruckus and quickly unlocked the binds.
Sterling shook his hands to release the tension from the metal cuffs and asked if they’d be serving rum while they worked. To my surprise, Captain Langston agreed to grant his wish and requested Paul Redding to gather some rum from the hold. Though Paul was the least bit obliged to take the order, he quickly returned with a bottle of rum, and like me, he watched in silence as the navigator began his work.
Explaining to us the details of the maps he had drawn himself, Sterling marked an estimated distance to Una Palma and told us about the information he needed to gather from The Barren Shore. He told us the story about the names of the islands and laughed at his own remarks as he drank his rum. I was impressed by the vibrant expression of his talent and enchanted by his passion for the art of the sea.
As Sterling leaned over the table to point at various markings on his map, I was teased by glimpses of his sturdy chest and the artistic swirls of his symbolic tattoo. My blood heated in my cheeks as I remembered him laying over me in the sand of Jamaica, and I imagined myself there on the table between him and his maps. Wondering how in the world I would keep my man-like poise through the blaze he ignited in all the parts that made me woman, I somehow managed to simmer my lustful flames and kept a professional interest in the meeting.
Captain Langston had been asking sensible questions along the way, and once Sterling noted his intention to Dead Reckon, the course to the mysterious Ile De Amoureux, Oliver looked to be sincerely astounded. Paul Redding and Doctor Reedy showed no such admiration. Without considering the ill regard of his crew, Captain Langston humbly complimented, “I am impressed, Mister Bentley. You are quite the master of these seas.”
“People don’t bind me for me skill because I’m senseless, and they don’t kill each other over me maps because they’re pretty.”
Once again, Oliver looked annoyed. He ordered Paul to cuff the navigator’s hands and once the other crewmen came to help guide Sterling out of the room, Sterling asked if he could bring the rum. Captain Langston winced as he denied the request and signaled for his men to begin their escort. As the door shut behind them, the captain looked at me. “It is truly a shame to see such a valid man in shackles.”
His reactions to Sterling’s persona had equally moved between admiration and irritability, so I wasn’t sure how he actually felt about him. Yet, no matter what his opinion truly was, I certainly nodded my head to agree with his statement.
X
A few hours into the day, the wind picked up, the wake began to swell, and the pummeling rain marred the visibility. As the small-handed crew fought the storm, Oliver sent me down to keep watch over the prisoners. Though more than thrilled to take the position, I merely nodded at my captain to accept the responsibility.
Descending the gangway into the brig room, I was greeted with a whispered round of saucy compliments from the imprisoned buccaneers. Faron and Sterling must have told them who I was. Faron Flynn was lying on the floor with his boots up on the bars and though he only whistled at me, the other men were inviting me to take them hostage, hissing about all the awful things I could do to them afterwards. Even after all the risqué things I had heard the sailors say along my journey, it was quite another story hearing such things being said directly to me. I was completely relieved when Sterling stood up and told them to shut their vile mouths. He even slapped Pete in the back of the head on his way over to see me.
Thankful as I was to hear the mangy men grumble off in disappointment, I struggled to remove my eyes from the sight of Faron Flynn. With his coat off, I got a clear view of his sun-bronzed skin and the black swirling tattoos that spiraled down his massive biceps. As I came closer I saw he also had cutlass blades swooping over his shoulders, underlining his collarbones. I wondered what the blades led to on his back, but I would never dare to ask.
Sterling met me at the bars and kissed me on the lips. The brief but meaningful kiss instantly melted me into a puddle of love, leaving me weak in the knees as he pulled away. He grabbed on to the bars over his head, and the pose left his tattered Spanish coat open where I could clearly see the golden skin of his suntanned chest.
Attempting to catch my breath after gazing upon his body, I shook my head and took a step back. Sterling looked me up and down with a saucy smile and a wink. “Ye make a mighty fine pirate, Charlie Bentley.”
From Faron’s place on the floor he added, “Prettiest one I ever seen. Now ye got the keys to get us outta here, or what?”
“No I don’t. I was only told to watch you while the men fight through the storm.”
He yawned, “We’ll figure it out after me nap. Oh, and tell those soft handed scallywags they be doing a shitten job sailing me ship.” Faron closed his eyes but Pete carried on. “If only they fought that battle as weak as they be fightin’ this storm.”
The imprisoned men began to fuss over their loss in the battle, shocking me with the gruesome things they had endured and surprising me with their easy expression of the horrific acts of war. There were a few mentions made about Oliver and his bow, so I told them about the way he took over when Willard Smith backed out of his command. They all laughed and asked if Willard was keeping the deck sanded to the captain’s liking. I was surprised to hear them speak so complimentary of the man who was holding them captive.
I had already met Pete and Marin, but Sterling had not introduced me to the other man in the cell. I whispered to ask who he was and Sterling laughed, “Aye, ye’d think I was raised at sea, with me missing of manners.”
He called the man over to the bars, and to mock his mentioned lack of etiquette, he introduced us with a proper English accent. “Mister Shark, this is my lovely woman, Miss Charlie. Miss Charlie, this is Mister Shark.”
The intimidating man kissed my hand and smiled, showing what was left of his teeth. “Aye, so this be the fearsome Charlie Bentley. Ye make a lucky man out of this ugly dog.” He elbowed Sterling in the gut and headed back over to his spot on the floor.
Marin and Pete were arm wrestling on the ground, and Shark looked to be passing out like
Faron, leaving Sterling and me as alone as we could be in such cramped quarters.
He stuck his hands through the grate and wrapped his arms around my waist, immensely increasing the beat of my heart. He pulled me close, and even with the bars between us, I felt his energy penetrate my body and flow straight into my soul.
“Oh, I missed you so Sterling. It felt like a million years.”
With that smile I adored, he agreed, and though I thought he was going to say something sweet, he roughly rubbed his hand through what was left of my hair and teased, “Where’d yer hair go?”
Putting my hat back on, I told him about my stowaway adventure. He listened with wide eyes and when I finished he laughed. “Glad to see ye putting good use to me last name.” While I blushed at his compliment, he poked at my pistol. “So where the hell did ye get those guns that ye shoot so well?”
Remembering the way he looked at me when I was reloading my gun, I was sure he’d be pleased to hear about my lessons. I quickly blustered over my situation with Lawrence, but my eyes widened with thrill as I told him about my time on the range. He was hardly amused. Looking at me with his eyebrow cocked, insinuating his irritation, he muddled, “Ye like that man?”
Though I was hurt by his lack of interest in my story, the accusation underlining his tone led me to believe he was jealous. I kind of liked it, but I wanted to assure him there was nothing to worry about. Putting my hands on his cheeks, I asserted, “Look at me, Sterling Bentley. If I wanted that life I would be there now. I want you more than anything I have ever desired, and I have never fought so hard to have anything. Don’t ever doubt my love for you.”
Glad to feel his tension release, I rubbed the smooth skin between his mouth and his sideburns. “I am glad you don’t grow a full face beard,” then I traced around his new scar. “Tell me, how did you get this scar, Sterling?”