Justified Treason (Endless Horizon Pirate Stories, Book 1)

by Taijeron, Cristi

The mark started under his eye and the rough healing skin slashed down his cheek. He slipped his palm underneath mine and rubbed the wound with the back of his hand. “I got in a fist fight that turned into a sword fight. Let’s just say this scar will forever remind me where I belong.”

  I was confused by his riddle, so I squinted with curiosity, but rather than responding he kissed me on the lips; easily distracting me with the sweetness of his gesture.

  The gray-blue light of the stormy day shone in through the gunshot hole in the wall, and the ship roughly tumbled over the rolling wake as we talked. While the salty mist of the sea scented the dingy room, I absorbed Sterling’s aroma. It was a salty mix of sweat and blood, but somehow he wore the rugged elements well.

  Reaching in my bag I smiled at him. “I have something for you. Well, more for me, but here.”

  I opened the bottle of sandalwood oil and dabbed some on his neck. Leaning in close to smell the oil blending with his pheromones, my senses came unraveled. He rubbed his hand through my hair and laughed at me. “Yer somethin’ else, Charlie. Chasin’ me across the ocean just to make sure I smell good.”

  I fanned my hand through his tangled mess of hair. “If only I had brought a comb.”

  He wrapped his hands around my waist, and while rubbing up and down my back he inquired with a smile, ‘So did ye hear about what happened at yer neighbor’s house?”

  He confirmed the truth in all I had heard and I thanked him for saving my friend Maureen.

  He laughed as if to downsize his heroism. “Of course I protected her. Me father told me thar was a special place in hell for men that hurt woman and children, and that it was a man’s God given duty to protect them. Among all the shitten things I’ve done in my life, I can tell ye I’ve never done harm to either, nor ‘ave I ever let any other man do so in me presence.”

  Constantly impressing me with his intense duality, I figured I would never know a dull moment by his side. We could talk for so long, and his expressions were so vibrant, bringing out the life in me I always had to repress. I was able to be my true self with him and I wanted to be his lovely woman for the rest of my life.

  As Sterling told me about his journey, I found myself awed by the intensity of nature and impressed by the strength and endurance the men had to manage such extremes. Laughing about James’ timid take at piracy, I felt as if I came to know him along the way, and I laughed about Pete’s exaggerated tale of The Kraken.

  I had forgotten there was anyone else in the world until Pete interjected, “Aye, ye Bentleys won’t be laughin’ when The Kraken be after you.”

  Sterling went on to tell me about the failure of an invasion and the success of the mutiny, but when he told me about James’ passing, I nearly cried. “No. That can’t be true. I liked James.”

  The heartbreaking news of James Thornton’s fate reiterated the dangers of this life at sea and reminded me how fragile life was altogether. Wincing at the sadness in my eyes, Sterling moved on to tell me about the victory, and I allowed myself the distraction of imagining how great those few days in between battles must have been.

  When he started telling me about Tortuga, I couldn’t help but ask. ‘So, were you true to me, Sterling?”

  He easily responded. “Of course I was.”

  “Were you tempted to break your promise?”

  He squinted with offense. “Why would ye ask me that?”

  “I’m just curious. I heard the men talking about the kind of women there, and I figured you might have run into some of them.”

  He looked up and exhaled in a way that worried me then proceeded to tell me about Nadine. My heart filled with fiery jealousy and I once again felt the urge to grab a woman by the hair. “How dare she! Did she put her filthy hands on you? I have half a mind to row a dinghy to Tortuga and ring her pretty little neck.”

  He laughed, “Calm yer nerves, woman. I didn’t go with her. I got slapped in the face with a Bible verse that reminded me to keep me sense.”

  He told me about the preaching man in the alley and I haughtily suggested, “Perhaps you should have that verse tattooed on your hand so you can slap yourself in the face with it next time you’re tempted to betray me.”

  He laughed again. “Yer sassy mood arouses me, Charlie.” Biting on his lip with a low rumbling growl, I rolled my eyes. “How dare you laugh at me when I’m upset.”

  It was terribly difficult for me to act snide after he made that face, but I stood there with my arms crossed, determined to make my point.

  He smiled as he assured, “I just like watching ye get all fired up fer me. But don’t worry. It was me memory of ye that kept me away from that wench, and this bewitching spell ye cast upon me soul will keep me clear of all the women on the map.”

  I lifted a wicked eyebrow. “Bewitching spell?”

  His handsome face lifted with a smile far more genuine than his ridiculous words. “Pure sorcery, I tell ye.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle.

  He pulled me back over to him and asked, “Ye still mad at me, or can I kiss ye now?”

  Looking behind him to see his mates sleeping like drunkards strung out across an alleyway, and I smiled. “You can kiss me now.”

  So he did. My fantasies could never live up to the reality of his true touch. Wanting to touch him too, I reached through the bars, moved my hands into his tattered coat, and felt around on the bare skin of his back. While feeling the impressions of his battle scars, I pulled him closer to me, damning the bars between us.

  Moving my hands around his sides and over his chest, my soft feminine palms absorbed the pounding of his heartbeat. The earthy electricity ran through my arms and flowed straight to my heart. As imagined, his chest muscles were hard, but his skin was surprisingly smooth. I moved my hands lower. The feel of his flat and solid abdomen left me burning to know what lay further down.

  Sterling broke the kiss and rumbled a playful whisper in my ear. “Is this why ye sliced me coat, Charlie?”

  Laughing at his comment, I opened my eyes to find his gaze completely locked with mine. His green eyes tugged at my soul the same way the horizon called for a sailor. I wanted to keep him forever, and I wanted so much more than his kiss. He enticed my senses with the most promiscuous thoughts, and with nothing but the bars keeping me from him, I tickled my fingers down his chest until I reached the brim of his breeches. My heart beat so loud in my ears that I could hardly hear the rain pouring on the ocean.

  He kissed on my neck, stunning me with the heaviness of his breath. Big and strong as he was, I was unraveling him with my dainty touch. I reveled in the sensual power until he devoured me with his. Moving his rugged hands down my back, he grabbed onto my backside with an unexpected might. Nearly lifting me off the floor he pulled me up against the bars and every muscle that shaped his powerful arms surrounded me with an intense and protective shield. The ferocity behind his grope reminded me how tiny I was, and as he slid his hot hands up and down the back of my thighs, I wondered how in the world there could be more passion than this.

  Just in time to cool the insatiable heat, the misty splash of a wave dashed in through the hole in the wall. Enough water had made its way in to leave a puddle of salty water on the wooden floor, and the unsteady maneuvers of the ship caused Sterling to step away from me. Pacing the tiny perimeter of his cell with an irritated scowl, he growled, “Those clay-brained land lubbers are gonna capsize me ship.”

  The jolting maneuvers of the shivering timbers must have awoken Captain Flynn, for without opening his eyes he mumbled, “Maybe we’ll get a lucky potshot through the wall of our cell so we can bust out and sail this ship right.”

  The men laughed at the thought of a potshot being lucky, and they joked about how it worked out for Morley.

  Sterling was well out of my reach by the time Paul Redding came rushing down the gangway. Paul’s black coat was dripping wet, and his short brown hair was soaked and stuck to the side of his face. The burly man yelped in a state of urg
ency. “Captain Langston demands the navigator on deck.”

  Two other men ran down behind him and held the prisoners at gunpoint as they unlocked the cell to let Sterling out. Without batting an eye Captain Flynn grumbled, “Least them lubbin deckhands have some sense. Sail me ship well, Bentley.”

  I locked the cell behind the men that dragged Sterling out, and once his hands were cuffed, they pushed him towards the gangway. With the prisoners cheering for Sterling’s opportunity to sail, Paul patted me on the back. “Good shift mate, I’ll be taking watch now. Take the keys to the captain.”

  As I followed behind the men, I heard Paul Redding cursing at the prisoners in their cell.

  Reaching the deck to see dark cloudy skies, pouring rain and rumbling waves, my first instinct was to be afraid. The dark and fearful wake swelling around the brim of the ship was quite terrifying, but I forced myself to be brave. Bracing my weight to keep rhythm with the bobbing deck, my heart bounced between my gut and my throat. The ship lifted up and pounded down over the sloppy swells so harshly, I could very easily have lost my balance, but I helped the men push Sterling across the deck without more than a mild stumble.

  Once we reached the captain, we were all completely drenched from the pouring rain. He hollered to Sterling through the roaring sounds of the weather. “Can you help us sail the ship out of this storm?”

  Sterling looked humored by the distress of the crew and his air of confidence eased my fears. Casually balancing his weight against the jouncing deck, he simply nodded in agreement. “Aye. This storm be but a wee baby, compared to the weather I’ve seen this beauty through.”

  The captain was pleased by the buccaneer’s easy accord. “Can I trust your loyalty if I free your binds?”

  I had expected Sterling to barter for something of great value, possibly even freedom, but with his arms crossed over his chest he said, “Only if’n ye promise to serve me hearties their daily rum while we be stuck in that hell hole.”

  I chuckled at his ridiculous request.

  Captain Langston thanked Sterling with the greatest relief before he freed him of his binds. I hoped he would forget about the keys I held to the cell, but once Sterling was free, Oliver reached for them and appointed me the job of keeping an eye on the buccaneer. He reminded, “Keep your gun loaded and ready. For one can never trust a pirate.”

  It was quite the pleasure following Sterling around while he worked, moving about the deck conducting orders to the crew, demanding positions and explaining their performances. He told the men where to go and what to do, and they listened without question. He even rallied up the captives from the Poseidon and the members of Pete’s Plunder band. They were all sitting awkwardly by the forecastle wall, and when Sterling told them they needed to pull their weight, they bewailed about how they were taken by force. Nonetheless the captain unlocked them and insisted they help with the sail.

  Before long, each man on board was hard at work and stable in their stations. I watched in wonder as Sterling manned the tiller until the ship was gently soaring over the roaring wake. His control over the ship changed the flow of the entire ride. Instead of a disastrous fumble over the rolling waves, the Wind of Glory now caressed the sauntering swell like smooth lines of poetry.

  Keeping my eyes on him was the easiest job I was ever assigned, but maintaining a masculine pose while doing so was one of the hardest.

  X

  The morning sun beamed through patchy holes in the clouds, and the sky was misty and cool. Sterling had guided Wind of Glory through the night’s storm, and even though it was a deed of his imprisonment, he seemed to enjoy the task. Before sending him back to the brig, Captain Langston had Sterling measure the latitude, and being my job to guide him to the chart room, we were able to sneak in a few kisses behind the closed door.

  Sterling was to meet the captain back on deck to report the pace, and I sat quietly against the gunnels while they talked. Oliver asked Sterling questions about his navigation work and also requested a few tips on proper storm sailing. Oliver seemed to be enjoying his talk with the navigator, and with Sterling showing no signs of fear over his captivity, I would have thought they were nothing more than mates talking about the weather.

  Next thing I knew they were talking about Oliver’s bow. Sterling asked Oliver a few questions about how he made his arrows and seemed entirely impressed by Oliver’s passion for his beloved weapon, but soon enough the captain realized he had become far too acquainted with his prisoner. He quickly ended the discussion and commanded his men to lock his hands. They did so with an unnecessary roughness, but Oliver reminded them to be courteous before he thanked Sterling again.

  “Thank you for your loyal services, Mister Bentley.”

  “It always be a pleasure to sail the seas, Captain Langston.”

  Oliver looked at me. “Charlie, see to it that the prisoners receive the rum I promised them.”

  I nodded to agree to my delegated chore, and on my way to the hold I heard Paul Redding and Doctor Reedy talking to each other. They had become acquainted by their equal distaste for the buccaneers and seemed alarmed by the captain’s civil treatment of them. At the moment they were bickering about Oliver’s audacity to serve them rum, and while nattering on about the matter, Willard Smith came mopping past them. Scowling at him with disgust, it seemed their disdain for the prior captain had overridden their fowl feelings towards the current one.

  Chapter 12

  Painful Imposition

  As told by Charlotte Wetherby

  Not only did I love sailing, but I could now refer to myself as a sailor. With Willard Smith preforming the lowly duties I had once been delegated, I was now able to experience the joy and work of sailing a ship. It was a much heftier task than I expected, but I certainly took a fancy for the challenge, and felt rather savvy as I picked up on the terms and techniques.

  There were times the sails were beat to windward and there were times the breeze was sweet at our lee, but either way, I found a soulful satisfaction in working with the winds and tides. It made me feel as if I was a part of something bigger. Cooperating with nature, and collaborating with my fellow man, I grew incredibly attached to Wind of Glory, and easily understood why Sterling spoke her name as if he loved her. Now I loved her, too.

  While helping the captain command his crew, it was hard for me to believe I had ever been a quiet little woman in a fancy dress. I did miss my father dearly, and felt terrible for leaving him to worry about me, but overall I had no mind to return the boring life I had fled. I was important here. I served a purpose. The men looked forward to my command, and the ship needed my hands to keep her in shape. And yes, my hands began to harden from pulling on the rigid lines, while my muscles strengthened from the hard days of work.

  Aside from all the joy I found in the busy work, it also seemed to be my greatest escape from the terrible guilt I felt over the murders I had committed. No matter how I attempted to assure myself the acts were done in means of justice, I couldn’t escape the haunting visual of their bloody faces or the sound of their dying breaths. By nightfall my exhausted body would hit the hammock with heavy, dreamless sleep, and I was ever so thankful to rise with the sun without nightmares ringing in my waking mind.

  No matter how much I preferred my life as a man, the secret romance I had been living with Sterling made me ever so thankful to be a woman. After sneaking in a round of wild kisses with him in the chart room, I walked him back out to the deck to measure our bearings. With the sensual buzz still lingering in my body, I watched him work his navigational magic before I had to put the cuffs back on his hands. I loved watching him work as much as I hated keeping him prisoner.

  Sterling had informed Captain Langston that we’d be setting sight on the island of Jamaica with the morning light, and as the sun set upon our last night at sea, Oliver called his crew to celebrate with a feast. Though the meager rations of food were hardly suitable for peasants, we all sat together and enjoyed the meal as if we were
dining with the king.

  While finishing up the last of our scraps, Paul Redding stood up and suggested, “I fancy we ‘ave ourselves a round of rum to finish off the celebration.”

  The men easily agreed.

  Though everyone enjoyed the treat, Paul seemed to drink enough rum to get us all drunk. I certainly found him far more annoying while he was intoxicated, but buzzing as I was, I was in no place to judge him. Finding myself tipsy on my toes, I realized it was far too difficult to act as a man with the girlish giggles chiming in my bubbly mind, so I decided it best to slip away before I made the mistake of unveiling my true identity. It was my turn to keep night watch over the prisoners, so I excused myself with a belch and made way to the brig room.

  Nearly stumbling down the gangway, I greeted my friends with a sloppy drunk hello. I know they were criminals, incarcerated for their crimes, but I had truly come to enjoy their company. There were no proper expectations in their rowdy presence and they were the only ones who had no judgment regarding my love for Sterling. They certainly teased him for it though.

  When I heard Faron call Sterling a soft hearted scallywag, I squinted at him and fanned him over. Meeting him at the bars, I whispered in a silly giggle, “You can call him all the names you want, Captain Flynn, but I know all about how sweet you were to Mary Daley on the Ivory.”

  He cocked his eyebrow as I continued with my whisper. “I am not sure if you know this, but I believe you should be told; Mary is madly in love with you, even to this very day.”

  Exhaling a laugh, he looked down at the floor and rubbed his large hand through his dark, wild hair. Looking back at me with a saucy half smile, he smirked, “I did not know that.”

  “Well don’t forget it, matey. That woman is one of a kind.”

  I poked at his chest to send him on his way and as he turned his back on me, I admired his tattoo. The angry looking skull had two cutlass swords crossed behind it, and the blades swooped over his shoulders. I liked the artwork as much as I liked his muscled back.