The Pirate Queen

by Candace Osmond

  The journey felt long, and we only passed a handful of other wagons and people walking. I smiled happily and kept my pace, all the while worried how some people may look at a young woman driving a wagon by herself. To the wrong person, someone with bad intentions, I could look like a tasty target.

  My fears were validated when a trio of rough-looking men emerged from the woods in the distance and stopped in the middle of the road. Even from where we were, I could clearly see the shape of swords dangling from their sides.

  “Finn,” I whispered back over my shoulder, “we have some company. It doesn’t look good.”

  “What are they doing?”

  “Standing in a row across the path,” I replied.

  “Just keep going,” he instructed. “Act normal. And whatever ye do, dinnae get down from this wagon.”

  I held a straight and stern face as our wagon approached the men awaiting us. Up close, I could see just how rough their appearance was. Soiled clothing, torn knees, and blackened skin, no doubt from living outside in the wilderness. These were wild men. And I was in trouble.

  I pulled back on the reins and the horse came to a halt. I smiled at them. “Good afternoon, gentlemen.” One of them broke away and began circling the wagon. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Maybe,” the one in the middle replied, his voice torn and raspy. His black hair was oily and curled around his face. I could see the decrepit state of his teeth when he spoke. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out this far by yourself?”

  “On my way to Cupers Cove to see some family,” I told them.

  The one circling around poked the tip of his sword under the blanket and my heart began to race. These were the type of men who’d no doubt spread the word about Finn’s whereabouts, and the news would make its way to Maria in no time.

  “Yeah? And what are you bringing along here?”

  “Just some old linens and fishing nets for my father,” I lied. The wagon jostled as he hoisted himself up on the wheel. I stood in my seat and drew my dagger from its sheath, holding the tip to his neck. “I would appreciate it if you removed yourself from my wagon, sir.”

  The man stared at me, his dark eyes full of surprise that quickly turned to amusement. He soon held up his hands in mock defeat and stepped down from the wagon. “Apologies, ma’am, I had no idea you were equipped to–” he paused as he sauntered back to join his friends, “defend yourself.”

  I quirked an eyebrow, dagger still held out in front of me. “Should I need to worry about that?”

  The man in the middle, who I realized must have been the leader, stepped forward and wrapped his grubby fingers around the reins I held.

  “Why don’t you hand these over and step down from your seat?” When I refused to move, he plucked a small blade from inside his jacket and held it to my gut. The hackles on the back my neck stood on end as I thought about the baby, so I slowly obeyed his command. “That’s a girl.” My feet hit the ground and he held out his free hand, palm up. “And give us the dagger, too, love.”

  My mind raced to think of a way out before Finn couldn’t take it anymore. The last thing we needed was him bursting out of the back like a wild bear and causing a full-on fight. I had too much at stake, I couldn’t risk the life of mine and Henry’s child against a battle of blades. I glanced down at the dagger in my hand and spotted the insignia of The Burning Ghost, the skull within a flame, and knew these men would no doubt recognize it. I grinned and turned it upright, making sure he wouldn’t miss it and handed the dagger over.

  “Ah, that’s a good girl,” he cooed, the words turning my stomach. He let the large knife slip into his palm and I watched his eyes bulge at the sight of the hilt. His face darted back to mine, scared, seemingly fighting to believe what he saw. “Are you–”

  “Yes,“ I told him and stood tall, arms crossed confidently over my torso. He stared me up and down, and I could see the pieces falling into place in his mind as the man began to recognize my likeness to Maria Cobham. “So, I’d suggest you return my dagger and be on your way.” I expected him to cower, to scuttle away back into the wood with his friends but was shocked when the street pirate did the opposite. He was pleased as he threw his head back and laughed.

  “Jack,” he called to one of the other men, “guess what we have here?”

  “What?” Jack asked.

  “We’ve got ourselves someone from The Burning Ghost.” He came near enough for me to smell the putrid stench of his breath when he cackled quietly, lifting his hand to caress my hair and twist a curl in his fingers. “And I reckon someone close to Maria, by the looks of it.” His hand moved to my chin and held it tightly, forcing me to look him in the face. “Do you know what that bitch did to me? To my crew?”

  I swallowed hard and attempted to speak through the firm grip he held on my face. “I have some ideas.”

  “She snuck aboard my ship one night, while we slept. Can you imagine? Too cowardly to take us while we were awake. Jack and I managed to jump overboard and swim away.” He paused to take a deep breath. “Not far enough, though. We still had to watch our ship, our crew, go up in flames and sink to the God damn ocean floor.” He gave another squeeze before letting my face go. “She took everything away from me. But now,” he laughed, “we have you.”

  My lungs struggled to keep a steady breath and my veins ran hot with fear. The leader looked over my shoulder and gave a curt nod to the one named Jack. Before I could turn around, the man had grabbed me from behind, holding my arms too tight as they pulled at the sockets of my shoulders. I tried to stifle the scream that I held in my throat as the not yet healed stitches stretched and the new flesh burned.

  “What should we do with her, Amos?” Jack asked the leader as he pressed his body against my back. I could feel him getting aroused from the excitement and it made me want to vomit.

  Amos flipped my dagger around and pressed the tip to my belly. His face twisted into an evil grin when it elicited a slight yelp from me. Did I dare tell them I was with child? Would they care? Would it make his act of revenge even worse?

  “Can’t just kill you,” he noted. “We gotta send a message. Maybe I’ll gut you here on the road and leave a trail of your blood back to Kelly’s Island.”

  Enough was enough, I couldn’t defend myself against all three men. “Finn!” I screamed, startling the street pirates.

  I took the split-second opportunity to raise my leg and plant a heavy foot in Amos’s stomach, pushing me back and away from the knife. Finn came barrelling out of the wagon like a crazed animal, sword drawn, and growling as he jumped to the ground with a loud thud. Jack continued to back away, still holding his grip on my arms.

  I threw my head back as hard as I could, knocking into his face. I could feel his teeth cut through my scalp and my mind spun from the impact. But it worked. He let me go. I ran toward Amos, grabbed my dagger that he’d dropped on the ground and, without a second thought, sliced through the back of his leg.

  The man screamed in pain and grabbed at his appendage as he crumbled to the ground. Finn held off the other two with sheer intimidation. They held their hands up in defeat and pleaded for their lives.

  “Just kill me, then,” Amos told me, desperation in his tone.

  “I’m not a murderer,” I replied which caused a guffaw from the man. “Seriously. I have Maria’s dagger, but I’m not part of her crew. I swear to it.”

  “Why should I believe you?” he asked and winced in pain.

  I sheathed my knife. “You don’t have to. But I hope that our mercy is enough to prove it. Maria would never let a soul go free and you know it.” I bent down to his eye level. “Look, I’m sorry for what she did to you. But she did the same to me. Trust that I despise her just as much as you do.” I glanced at his leg, the blood had already soaked through his dirty pants. “Keep this as clean as possible. Wrap it tight. You’ll be fine.” I stood and began walking back to the wagon, signaling Finn to come. He grunted and followed,
sword still pointed at the other two men.

  “I owe you a debt, then,” Amos called after me. I stopped and looked back over my shoulder in confusion. “You spared my life, I must repay the debt.”

  I looked at Finn, pursing my lips as I thought about it. He leaned and whispered, “Ye could tell him to keep his filthy mouth shut.”

  I smiled and turned my attention to Amos. “All I ask is that you never speak a word of this. To anyone. Ever.” I let out a heavy sigh. “Is that something you can do?”

  Amos chuckled. “What? Keep it a secret that me and my men were taken down by a woman?” He waved me off. “Go on, get on your Jesus wagon and get outta here.”

  Finn and I hopped aboard, and I whipped the reins, signaling the horse to get going. We left the street pirates in a cloud of sandy dust and I sighed in relief as we got further and further away.

  “Aye, remind me not to mess with ye,” Finn said jokingly and slid over the back of my seat to take his hiding place under the blanket. “We should hurry, though. Men like that aren’t likely to keep their word.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “I know they ain’t.”

  I flicked the reins once again, harder, and our trusty horse picked up its pace. The ride became rough and bumpier, but we had to hurry. Time was not our friend.

  I’m not sure it ever was.

  Chapter Ten

  We neared the community of Cupers Cove ahead of schedule and Finn told me to bypass the main road that entered it. The farm property where they’d been hiding was just outside of the town, but not far. I hauled back on just one of the reigns and our trusty horse obeyed, taking the turn with ease. Soon, the line of an old farmhouse appeared in the distance. Next to it, a barn, surprisingly large and covered in wood siding that had been greyed and weather from the ocean.

  Finn pulled back the low canopy and hauled himself over the back of my seat. “Stop here.”

  I gently reigned in the horse and we came to a halt just outside the barn’s large front doors. Finn hopped down and then motioned for me to follow. We entered the dimly lit structure and I followed Finn over to the far corner where I could hear the faint hum of a voice. As we got closer, I could make out the low and bristly tone of Gus.

  “Gus!” I called and ran to wrap my arms around him from behind. The man, startled, whipped around in my grip and pushed me away. But when his eyes widened at the sight of me, he quickly brought me back in and hugged me tightly.

  “Christ,” he muttered, “where have you been?” We broke free from one another and he looked to Finn. “So, you were right, then?”

  “Aye,” Finn replied. “I knew it had to be her. I was careful, though. Nobody saw me.”

  Gus nodded and then turned his attention back to me. He never smiled, but his eyes sparkled with eager curiosity. “It’s good to see ya.” He heaved a big sigh and I knew what he wanted to ask. Where did I go? What happened that night? But he refrained.

  I smiled and nodded. “It’s good to see you, too.”

  But my happiness quickly faded when I spotted a body laying on a heap of hay covered in linens. Charlie. I pushed past Finn and Gus to kneel at his side and took his bony hand in mine. It was boiling hot. They had him stripped down to his bare chest, only his legs covered by a thin sheet. His pale and sickly skin was drenched in sweat. My eyes went straight to his neck where I knew Maria’s sword had sliced through it, noting the yellowed cloth that had been wrapped around it and how it was soaked in a rainbow of colors; yellow, red, purple, and green. I reached over and gently lifted the side of the bandage and gagged at the putrid smell that immediately wafted across my nose.

  “He’s seriously infected,” I told the other two. “I’ll need to clean this before we hit the road. We can’t risk traveling with him in this state. I need clean cloths and hot water. As hot as you can get it. And some kind of soap, if it’s possible.”

  Gus looked at Finn and nodded his head toward the door. “Go fetch the lady of the house and see what she can get for ya.”

  “Aye.” Finn nodded and ran off.

  I leaned in and cupped little Charlie’s clammy cheek in my hand. He was more boy than man and it pained me to see him like that, just laying there, unaware of the world around him and the state he was in. I listened to his labored breaths and how they slightly choked as they passed through his throat. It was a wonder he was still alive.

  “So,” Gus spoke, breaking the silence of the echoing barn. “What happened back there that night?” I looked over my shoulder, watching as he came and squatted down next to me.

  “It’s a long story,” I replied. “But, I went back to where I came from.”

  His face twisted in confusion, his big brown eyes pleading. “Why would you just leave us like that?”

  I’d never witnessed Gus portray emotion other than anger and sheer discontent for my existence. We tolerated one another, at best. But there in the barn, I could see the layer underneath. The layer that actually did care for me, considered me family the way I did for him.

  “I’m sorry,” I honestly told him. “I never meant to do it. It happened by accident.”

  He rubbed his beard and nodded, but he still didn’t seem convinced.

  “I tried everything in my power to get back here, though. Please, know that. I sacrificed everything for the slightest chance to come back. If I could change what happened, I would in a heartbeat.”

  “No,” he blurted. “It’s what saved us.”

  “Right, yeah, Finn told me.” The tears began to well and I fought them back. “But did it really?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look at poor Charlie. And… Henry.” My voice cracked, and I choked on my words.

  Gus patted his hand on my back. “Don’t think like that. Henry’s alive. I know it.” He let a pause hang in the air. “And so do you, don’t ya?”

  I gave him a weak and quivering smile. “Yeah, I do.”

  But, if Maria had him, being alive may not be a good thing. I imagined him aboard her ship, wishing for death to come and release him from the torture. A shiver washed over my body and I stood to get away from it.

  “Aye, Lassie,” Finn called from the door. He marched through the barn with a large metal pan full of steaming hot water, clean linens draped over his shoulder. He set it down next to Charlie and handed me the white cloths. “Will this do?”

  “Yes, it’s perfect,” I told him. I grabbed an empty milk pail and turned it upside down, placing it next to Charlie and took a seat. First, I rolled up my sleeves as high as they could go and then washed my own skin, paying close attention to the underside of my nails.

  Next, I took a deep breath before leaning in to remove his soiled bandages. All three of us gagged from the smell. It reminded me of when I finally got my cast removed from my arm when I’d broken my wrist in junior high. I’d never forgotten the raunchy stench of dead skin and sweat. This was so much worse. I imagined it to be as close to the smell of a dead body as you could get without actually being dead. Some scabbing and crusted yellow puss came away with the bandage, causing fresh blood to fill the wound.

  “Good God,” Finn muttered. “The poor bugger.”

  “You guys can leave if you want,” I told them.

  “Nay,” Finn replied. “I’ve smelled worse.”

  I worked fast and steady, careful not to open the wound too much, but determined to remove as much of the infection as I could. It was hard, the stitching job that had been done in haste to save Charlie was jagged and sloppy. I wasn’t sure if it helped or did more harm, but it did keep his skin together.

  When I’d finished, I wiped some of my rubbing alcohol around the wound and then tore the linens into small strips to wrap around his neck. Through it all, Charlie never budged, never woke up. Lastly, I crushed up one of my antibiotic pills on an upturned wooden crate and brushed the dust into a warm glass of water that had been sitting there. I tipped the boy’s head back and opened his mouth to gently pour
the water down. When I was sure it had all slid down his throat, I stood and turned to find an awestruck Finn and Gus.

  “We should hit the road,” I informed them. They never asked questions, never spoke a word of the foreign things I’d pulled from my satchel. Something deep inside of me warmed at the thought of how much they must have trusted me.

  Gus found four scraps of wood, nailed them to the inside corners of the wagon and then fashioned a canopy from some of the blankets. “There, now we can sit in the back with the boy and stay hidden on the road.”

  The two of them jumped in the back and I hopped in the driver’s seat again, grabbing the reins and giving them a sharp flick. We were off, heading back over the road we came in on, only much faster this time. The high afternoon sun made us vulnerable and I worried the entire way back about the street pirates we encountered. Would they still be there? Would there be others? Had they kept their word or did they run off in search of The Cobhams to tell them all about the black-haired woman and Scot who took them down?

  My fears subsided as the rocky landscape became more and more familiar. Tall, Evergreen trees thickened the forests on each side. I knew we were approaching the town limits of Harbour Grace and I longed to be under the cover of my bedroom at The Slippery Cod. I took the back road that Lottie had showed me and brought the wagon to the back door. She must have been watching for us because my friend came running out before the horse even came to a full halt.

  “You made it,” she said by way of greeting. “I take it there were no problems, then?”

  “Oh, no,” I replied and jumped down from my seat. “We definitely had problems. Some street pirates stopped us about halfway.”

  “Oh?” Lottie turned her attention to the canopy and quirked her eyebrow.

  “We got away,” I told her. “And sorry, we needed something better to hide them. I can have Gus take it down, don’t worry.”