Justified Treason (Endless Horizon Pirate Stories, Book 1)

by Taijeron, Cristi

  Holding his eye that was swollen shut Paul stepped back with a grumble. “That pirate slut gouged me eye out.”

  After taking a deep breath to contain his irritation, the governor calmly informed the men, “I will not hear another foul word about Miss Charlotte Wetherby. Her father is by far my best citizen, and I will not allow your measly accounts to trouble his noble reputation. Now, tell me about this navigator, what is his name?”

  Captain Smith responded, “Sterling Bentley.”

  The governor smiled widely. “Ah yes, just as Mister Bronson Hanley reported to me. I am quite impressed by the way Bronson hogtied that greasy pirate Farrell with his belt, and also very glad Mister Farrell reported against his crew so easily. Now if only Mister Bentley’s skills are such as his companion explained.” He rubbed his hands together. “Then we will all be wealthy men.”

  All three men were quick to boast about the navigator’s work.

  After the men filled him in on the final details of their accomplishments, the governor nodded. “You men have accomplished a great deal, and I will be pleased to celebrate your victory at that feast I mentioned. Now I’ll be on my way to see Mister Bentley, and if things go as planned, you’ll be taking him aboard the Vera Rose at sunrise. After dropping a shipment of cigars in Barbados, you’ll veer off course to attain The Lovers’ Treasure.”

  Once the body of Dedrick Morley was confirmed, the prisoners were sent to the fort and the Spanish gold was totaled. Captain Smith’s crew received their plentiful bounty. With the work done and the deck clean, the governor sent the men ashore and proceeded to assess the value of his new ship. He found the Wind of Glory to be a mighty fine prize indeed.

  Before heading down to the brig, Governor Morgan made his way to the chart room and took a moment to review the navigator’s maps. He was awestruck by the artwork and fascinated with the precision of the measurements. There was a map of the island of Jamaica and the accuracy of the shoreline left him speechless. Every cove was precisely placed, the height of the hills and mountains were noted, and the roads and harbor docks were marked. Even the depths of the surrounding coast were recorded with notes for the best routes to travel according to the type of ship and various drafts.

  The governor was intrigued by the unique compass rose and figured that the scriptedB in the bottom right-hand corner must represent Mister Bentley’s signature. This navigator was most certainly a fine artist of the sea, and the governor looked forward to the wealth that the treasure map might grant him. He rolled up the bundle of charts he had examined and made his way to the brig to meet with the notorious Sterling Bentley.

  Descending to the brig room, the governor saw a warm beam of light dashing through the hole in the hull. The dusty ray left a perfect corner of darkness behind it, and that was where the buccaneer sat. While observing Sterling’s terrible battle scars, tattered clothing, and long wild hair, the governor wondered how in the world such a disgusting man could be of such great value to him. The valid skill of the maps he had just observed had also led him to believe the artist would be of much greater age, but he quickly noticed how the filthy young man’s compass rose tattoo matched the one on his charts. This was certainly the man he needed in order to get the gold he was after, and with his mind whirling in interest, Governor Morgan greeted the sullen man with a smile. “Hello there, Mister Bentley.”

  X

  After Wallace and Hester left for the governor’s dinner party, Mary headed upstairs to check on Charlotte. Surprised to see Lawrence answer the door, she entered the room to find Charlotte sleeping like a rock on her fluffy white bedding. Pleased to see her resting so soundly, Mary sighed, “That poor child has exhausted herself beyond belief. I bet she will sleep clear ‘til noon.”

  Mary noticed Lawrence’s hair was a mess as if he had been pulling his hands through it all day, and his heavy eyes had dark rings under them. He exhaled a sullen confession, “I am truly worried about her, Mary. I understand she does not love me, but to be enthralled with this buccaneer leaves me concerned for her safety.”

  “It is a worrisome fate, Lawrence. Whatever shall we do?”

  “Well, after her brazen lash out at Wallace today, he said that he is sending her to live with her brother Amos in Barbados.”

  Mary gasped at the news of the unpleasant surprise. Knowing nothing about the day’s events, she was knocked off her feet by the sudden change in the situation. Lawrence responded to Mary’s shock. “Yes, I am aghast by the change as well, but I have offered to see her on her way. I will stay with her if she will let me. I love her, you know.”

  “Oh, Lawrence, you are a sweetheart. This whole story breaks my heart. When will you be leaving?”

  “We will be leaving with the next shipment to Barbados. Wallace had wished to send us on the Vera Rose at dawn, but we will be waiting for the Thursday departure on the Poseidon. The rotten man who welted Charlotte’s face will be aboard Vera Rose. Governor Morgan suggested we stay clear of him, and I know that is best for if I saw that wretched man, I would kill him myself.”

  Mary’s gray-blue eyes filled with tears as Lawrence hugged her, but she refused to cry as she walked down the stairs.

  Pacing the floor in her room, she thought about the possibilities. She was supposed to meet with Charlotte to combine their ideas for Faron Flynn’s escape, but Charlotte was heavy with much needed sleep and sentenced to leave the island for good. Charlotte had been through enough. This feat was one Mary would have to take on alone.

  Thinking over her friendship with Charlotte and reminiscing upon her life with the Wetherbys, Mary admitted the last two years had certainly been pleasant. She had been so comfortably cared for she never once thought about leaving, but if she were to carry out with this plan, she would never be able to return.

  The thought of leaving such a peaceful life behind her caused her to think back on her rugged life. Other than the small moments of joy she found as a child, her fondest memories could be found on the Ivory with Faron Flynn. Sure she would never see him again, she had deluded her memory of him into an untouchable fantasy, but knowing he was so near reminded her how she’d felt while wrapped in his embrace. In the warmth of his strong arms she’d felt the safest, and in the sound of his low spoken voice she’d felt the calmest. Mary had told Faron things that no one else knew about her, and entrusted him with her deepest secrets. Faron Flynn had saved her fading spirit and gave her hope to go on in pride and bravery.

  Every challenge she had faced since then she conquered with his will to fight, and now that he was here, waiting to hang, she wanted to fight for him.

  Mary took a quick moment to style her hair and clothed herself in a dark flowing dress. After stashing a dagger in her boot and another in her bodice, she covered herself with a black shawl and headed into the night.

  As she made her way through the rural end of town, the scene was vacant with an eerie sense of silence. It seemed as if the whole town had attended the dinner party. Ascending the hill to the fortress, she assessed the details of her plan. When Mary told Charlotte that she had been with many men, even some on this shore, one of them was Edwin Roger. He was the night watch at the jail whom Mary had a tumbling romance with. She had snuck here in the night to be with him before, and with any luck, Edwin would be standing guard, and Mary could get what she came for.

  Rounding the arched entrance of the chamber, she saw a crew of carpenters working on the gallows stand in the courtyard. They were fastening the beams and adjusting the ropes; it appeared that quite a few men would soon be meeting their doom. Though the haunting scene was terrifying, it reminded her why she came. Resuming her stealthy approach in the darkness, Mary rounded the corner without being noticed.

  There was but one lantern light gleaming at the entrance of the darkened cell room, and Edwin Roger blocked the hallway with his tall and honorable presence. He was a sharp looking man and Mary gasped as she looked him over; she had nearly forgotten how attractive he was. Indulging herself
with a quick memory of their last encounter, she wondered why she had waited so long between visits.

  There was a rustic archery bow leaning against the wall next to Edwin, and he busied himself by sharpening the arrows for it. Normally he kept a strong lookout over the prisoners with a fearsome watch, so Mary was surprised to see him so distracted by his project.

  From where she stood she could hear Faron Flynn talking to the man in the cell across from him. When she heard the other man’s name was Oliver, she listened closely, for Charlotte had spoken highly of him as well. Faron was explaining the democracy of a buccaneer crew, and Oliver was asking questions about the way their system worked.

  When they talked about the rule of having no women aboard, Oliver laughed, “That awful scene with Charlie Bentley clearly states why women should not be allowed at sea.”

  Faron concurred. “It’s a mighty awful stretch of bad luck to have a woman aboard. I could bloody well bet that’s how this story has ended up so sour.”

  Faron continued to tell Oliver about the power of the captain and how if he was overly crude or spineless in battle the crew could vote him out. Oliver snarled, “I would love to see Captain Smith marooned on an island full of man eating Caribs.”

  As they continued to discuss and debate, Mary whispered for Edwin. He nearly dropped the arrow in his hand as he looked her up and down. She lowered her black shawl to show him her outfit; the dark plum colored dress was long and flowing, but the lacy top was low and revealing. The loose curls of her dark hair swooped across her bare shoulders, and her blue eyes gleamed in the lantern light.

  Edwin pulled Mary near him and breathed, “Where have you been, my mystic beauty?”

  While he kissed on her neck, she giggled, “Oh, I just had a dream about you, and I wanted to see if you could make it come true.”

  Without another word, Edwin kissed her, and she melted into the magic of his tongue’s gentle rhythm. Her body warmed with an unexpected fire, and she rubbed her bosom all over his chest to consume him with the same heat. Wrapping her arms around his strong body, she moved her hands up and down his back, but as he groped her arse and lifted her up against him, she began to wonder who was casting the spell.

  Attempting to manage her desires, Mary forced herself to stay focused on the mission. Pulling her head above the steaming cloud of lust, she realized Edwin was completely lost in the fog. While kissing on his neck, she rubbed her hand along the front of his thigh, and she felt him weaken at the knees. Leading her hand into his coat, she made her way toward his belt…She was just about to reach into his breeches…

  Mary pulled the pistol out of his belt and aimed it at him. Her breath was still heavy from the seduction as she explained, “I am so sorry, Edwin. Please don’t take this personally.”

  She kept with her seductive tone as she demanded his silence and forced him to cuff himself to the bars of the cell.

  Faron and his crew had seen what was going on and they watched in silence. Once Edwin chained himself to the bars, she cleared him of his weapons, and when she took the keys off of his belt loop, she grabbed with an extra bit of sass as a way to thank him for his service.

  Mary kept the pistol pointed at Edwin as she handed Faron the keys, and after unlocking his cell, he let Oliver and the others out as well.

  When they were all out, Faron mentioned getting rid of the witness but Mary snapped, “Don’t hurt him, Faron, or I’ll lock you back in that cell.”

  “Dead men can’t be tellin’ tales, Mary,” Faron hissed.

  “Exactly. So if you want to live to tell about your prison-break than leave him alone,” she snapped. Then she winked at Edwin. “Plus, he won’t tell.”

  Edwin nodded his head to concur and though Faron rolled his eyes, he settled for wrapping a band around Edwin’s mouth so it would be difficult for him to holler.

  The escaping prisoners quickly grabbed all the weapons in sight. Mary kept the pistol, Marin grabbed Edwin’s musket, Faron got his sword, and Oliver nearly hugged his bow and arrows. He handed Doctor Harvey, Pete, and Shark each an arrow so they could have weapons, too. As all six of Edwin’s prisoners slipped out, Mary blew him a kiss of gratitude. “I’ll be looking forward to our next visit, Edwin. Thank you.”

  The free men ran down the hill in the darkness and made their way through the thick bushes and shrubs. Coming to a dark shadow of trees, they huddled together, and Captain Flynn immediately resumed his reign of order. “Alright, mateys, first thing we need to do is get us a ship.”

  Mary cleared her throat and Faron smiled at her. “Oh, and holy shipwreck, Mary, ye be an angel of darkness.” He picked her up and spun her around as he thanked her for setting them free.

  Mary giggled at his wild gesture but quickly informed the captain, “Wind of Glory is still in the harbor.”

  Faron suggested they get a closer look, but Oliver started to panic. “Oh, I don’t know, that sounds so risky. We could be caught. What if someone sees us? They could be on their way now…”

  While Oliver looked around the darkness, Pete interrupted his panic, “What else ye gonna do, matey? Worst they can do is ‘ang us, and they were gonna anyways.”

  Before Oliver could start another nervous sentence Faron picked him up, threw his lanky body over his bulky shoulder and took off down the hillside.

  Oliver had no room to contest the awkward position that Faron put him in, and as the men ran behind their captain Oliver mumbled, “I worked fair and honestly my whole life only to be arrested for a lie and sentenced to death. It seems there is nothing else for me to do.”

  Mary was beside herself with laughter as she ran behind them.

  Soon enough Oliver started smacking Faron on the back. “Let me down. I will sail with you, you filthy buffoon.”

  Faron set him down, and Oliver attempted to shake the embarrassment of his undesired escort by puffing up his narrow chest. “I will be at your loyal service, Captain Flynn.”

  The group continued to sneak their way through a windy riverbed until they found a good hiding place behind some shrubs and trees at the western end of the harbor. While Mary explained the details about the dinner party and the Vera Rose, Shark and Pete started picking mangos off the tree near where they stood. The downtown area of Port Royal was bustling with nightlife, but the hillside above it seemed dark and empty. Mary listened intently while Faron went over his plan. “Far as I can see, that blimey dinner party has all the officials busy, and Wind of Glory looks to be vacant at the dock.” He cupped his ear. “Ye hear her callin’ me name, she’s tellin’ me to come get her.”

  Mary laughed with the men, but as Faron carried on about the idea of blending in with the men who were loading cigars on the ship across the dock, she noticed Pete and Shark had returned to the group. Shark had removed his waistcoat and filled it with a load of mangos, but Pete was holding a puppy. Mary was pleased by the size of the small terrier dog and went near Pete to pet the puppy. “Where did he come from, Pete?”

  “He was hiding by that rock, lookin’ half scared to death, poor lil scallywag. Tried to bite me hand but I got ‘um to calm down. ”

  “Well, he seems to have warmed up to you nicely. Oh, he is just marvelous, Pete, are you going to keep him?”

  Pete concurred with a rugged agreement. “Aye, marvelous indeed. I’ll be plundering this little pup and naming him Marv.”

  Faron exhaled an agitated laugh. “I be over here sweating bullets to plan our escape and this salty bloke’s over there cuddling a puppy.”

  Captain Flynn’s crew made their way to the dock and easily dispersed amongst the laborers to help haul the crates of cigars. Mary made her way across the dock to set another saucy distraction. Acting to be a drunken whore that had lost her way, she flirted with the laborers; amusing them with her ditsy stumble. While Mary kept them busy, Captain Flynn and his crew boarded the Wind of Glory.

  Mary even ventured near to kissing one of the men, but everyone’s attention was diverted by the ruckus
of a fight breaking out on the dock. The lighting was dim but Mary could see that three guards were attacking a well-dressed prisoner. The prisoner had just been shoved down on his back, and Mary laughed as she saw him kick one of the guards into the water.

  Before she had a chance to observe anymore of the chaos, she saw prison guards charging down the dock. They were hollering about the escaped prisoners. Mary panicked and ran to Faron, and Faron lifted her to the deck. She heard the guards topple over the fighting dog pile. Faron looked down on the convenient diversion with humor and hollered, “It’s been fun boys.”

  The guards on the dock fired their guns, but the Wind of Glory made its way through the harbor without a scuff. Captain Flynn shouted to his crew, “Ready the guns ye grimy powder monkeys.”

  Before the watchmen at the guard tower could see which ship was nearing the darkened exit, the Wind of Glory fired her guns at them. The ruckus it caused and the smoke that it billowed gave Captain Flynn’s crew the perfect escape into the darkened night.

  Chapter 15

  A Master of the Sea

  As told by Sterling Bentley

  I’d been stuck in this blaggard ol’ brig room by meself for hours. Other than the piddly ration of water and the shitten serving of hard tack, I had nothing but tormenting memories and swamping heat to keep me company. I had removed me despicable remnants of a coat and tried to sit in the shade behind the dusty ray of light shining in the hole, but thar was no escaping the misery. Thar was no sign of relief for me overheated body, nor was thar any rest for me tormented soul. While wondering how much worse life could be in Lucifer’s den, I heard footsteps coming down the gangway.

  “Hello there, Mister Bentley.”

  Looking up to see the blimey governor of Port Royal, I nodded me head to acknowledge his presence, then I laid me head on me arms as a futile attempt to ignore him.