AMBER WAKE: Gabriel Falling (The Razor's Adventures Pirate Tales)

by P. S. Bartlett

  “Aye, Captain. This is going to be one of the best moments of this ship’s career.” I could hear the excitement in his voice. The angry exchange of earlier gave way to the business of staying afloat and alive. Miles was in his glory.

  “Are we sure, Cap’n?” Gimby asked. I stared at the deck of the Neptune. She was now swarming with activity. No flag raised and no show of aggression appeared to have them stymied. I, on the other hand, was focused and finally found what I was looking for.

  “Yes, Mister Gimby.” I climbed on the gunnel and held tight to the lines. “I’m certain. Behold Admiral Stevens in all his powdered-wigged, sweaty, pompous glory.” I waved my free hand over the water and bowed as if welcoming a royal entourage. The admiral was staring back at me as we bounced in each other’s wake. He was closely examining me, searching for someone he knew beneath my long hair and amber beard. His heavy jowls were shaking as Neptune jostled on the trembling tide. He lowered his glass, and I saw “Wallace” form on his lips as his face turned red.

  “Alas, Mister Gimby, we’ve been identified!” I shouted, leaping onto the deck from my pulpit.

  “Good,” Gimby said. “I’d hate not receiving the credit for sinkin’ that old rat bastard’s ship. Beggin’ yer pardon, Cap’n.”

  “Pardon given. Now, Mister Gimby!” I latched onto the lines as Gimby spun the wheel and the Assurance began to veer to port. Looking through the glass, I saw the Admiral’s stunned expression and the blood rose up in me like fire. He dashed about bellowing orders as his helmsman turned to port as well.

  “Fire; one, three, five, seven, and nine!” Miles shouted as a volley of chain-shot whizzed through the air in a cloud of smoke. The sounds of spars cracking and the thuds as they crashed into the gunnels and deck echoed across the water, igniting cheers from one end of Assurance to the other. Neptune’s few rounds hit us high, yet when I shielded my head from the splintering wood, her masts still stood.

  “Fire!” A second volley blasted, shaking Assurance and causing every man in sight to cling to her. This time, it was eight-pound round-shot. Even from twenty yards, we watched and ducked as wood shattered and flew along the water line of the Neptune.

  “Fire!” Another round of shot hit the water line and below, sending sprays like fountains into the air. Miles was using five of the great guns at a time in order to give the gunners a chance to reload between assaults. Next, grapeshot flew from our swivels, scattering the men and forcing them onto their bellies.

  Round after round hammered the frigate as Gimby steered the Assurance past her. The Neptune was beginning to list, signifying she was taking on water. We’d fired no warning shot. We’d offered no opportunity for surrender. Our initial strikes had been so devastating that they’d sent the men of Neptune running for cover instead of striking back at us. We fought like pirates, not commissioned Royal Navy men, and the pitiful swabs we pounced on didn’t have a clue we wouldn’t follow the rules.

  I watched through narrowed eyes as her crew scrambled to lower the longboats to save themselves. The Jersey was approaching, yet not fast enough. Her mission was to make her stand and rescue Admiral Stevens, or give chase when we were through. Neither concerned me as I held onto the lines and watched as Gimby brought us around the stern of the Neptune and the sound of return fire rang out.

  “Fire!” Miles continued. In the burning smoke that billowed in the low winds and made my eyes water, I couldn’t tell exactly what the Jersey’s position was. I knew, however, she was gaining speed, yet she was still out of range. The sounds of the big guns came from her but her rounds landed short. The Assurance continued to let go with rounds of her own. This was an all-out assault on every level and there was no turning back. We’d suffered minimal damage but I held my eyes on the Jersey, now slipping around the other side of the sinking Neptune.

  “Cap’n?” Gimby called to me as Assurance continued a course that would take her on a circuit around the dying ship.

  My decision was made before I spied her bow. “We sink her, Mister Gimby. She sails beyond this day and we’ve yet another mob of storytellers by day’s end. We need all the time we can get. Miles! Ready the guns!”

  “Aye, Cap’n.” Miles already had the gunners stuffing the cannons’ mouths. My true friend and colleague was once again of my same mind. Although I did not want to destroy another ship, they’d given us no choice. Without another sail in sight and hours upon hours before the survivors would reach the shore in Charles Towne, let alone tell this tale, I prayed there was still time to get Lydia safely to shore.

  The Jersey had at last slowed to a drift on the starboard side of the Neptune. I nodded to Miles. “Fire!” Chain-shot flew again on his command, only this time, he fired into her stern. There was no time to lose.

  The river was littered with men fleeing wildly in longboats, shards of wood and planks and men clinging to anything afloat. The Neptune was leaning so far over, what was left of her masts skimmed the surface of the water.

  At last, I spotted the Admiral, filthy and sans his wig, being assisted into the final longboat. I took a long, deep breath as I eyed what was left of him and said, “Mister Gimby, hold our position. We’ve fair weather and the wind is in our favor. We’ll not move until I see Clarke’s and Emerson’s signal. Should any other vessel approach, we’ll carry out the same swift justice.”

  As the smoke and ash cleared in the breeze, cheers rose among the crew of the Assurance. Miles slapped shoulders and backs as he commended his gunners a job well done. I made my way below and to my cabin.

  “We survived again, Captain,” Adam said.

  I nodded and went to my desk. Sitting, I closed my eyes and rested my head in my hands. Soft footsteps, along with Adam’s usual scamper, left my quarters and the door shut. Raising my head, I saw I was alone. Adam knew I was in no mood for company of any kind, especially that of a woman. The thought made my head pound even more. The guns had been more than too much. The light of the sun, the movement of the ship, and then the guns; it had finally been the last straw. With the lives of my men hanging in the balance, I would fight through any suffering.

  Now in my cabin, alone, I could let the suffering claim her spoils.

  Eighteen

  “It’s been hours, Gabriel. Hopefully they’ll signal us soon.” Miles said upon reaching my side at the gunnel.

  “I’ve a watch, Miles,” I stated. “They’ve no reason not to.” I gazed at the empty shoreline.

  “What if the person you asked for help does not want me?” Lydia asked, stepping up behind us.

  “I’m certain he agreed. He is a good man from good people.” I didn’t turn to look at her. The pleading tone in her soft words was clearly meant to sway my decision to send her ashore. I glanced at Miles and her voice hadn’t turned his head either. I believed that perhaps his call to duty was a reminder of his purpose as my first mate. That purpose did not include a beautiful young woman.

  My mind twisted afoul of proper thought, and it fell dark against the light of the freedom for her on which I’d so steadily held my focus. For a second, I imagined Miles thought nothing of her, having gathered all of her offerings and satisfied his lust like a scoundrel. Not having her was somehow far worse, for it allowed emotions to engage. Oh yes, withholding myself from her gave her so much more power. So much, I could read her voice. So much, I couldn’t bear to look at her. So much, I’d hardly slept in days. I knew I would not rest until Lydia was safely ashore and the remnants of what we’d done to accomplish the task were washed away in the sea.

  By dusk, my wish was granted.

  “Signal, Cap’n!” the man in the crow’s nest shouted. “Two riders heading for the beach!”

  I thanked God it was time to go.

  Mitton and Ryan jumped out of the longboat and helped steady it ashore. I assisted Lydia, who was carrying a small sack containing the garments in which she’d been found. I’d insisted she dress in Adam’s clothes to go ashore.

  “Captain!” We heard a
whisper and guns were aimed into the dark in the direction of the voice. “Don’t shoot, sir. It’s Emerson. Oyster, sir, oyster,” he said, stepping from behind the tall grass and into the low moonlight.

  “Finally.” I smiled. “Next time be quicker about it, lest ye lose your head.”

  Emerson came forward and then Clarke. A face I had not seen in a number of years then appeared. “William.” I stepped forward and clasped the hand and arm of the man.

  “Gabriel. It is good to see you, even under such disappointing circumstances.” The smile betrayed what the tone of voice hid.

  “Admit it. You knew it was but a matter of time.” We hugged fully. “Speaking of time, ours has run out. We were set upon by two ships in the river hours ago and there are sure to be more sent to avenge them. Now, for the reason we’re here. William, this is Lydia. I entrust her to you and your family.” I removed a large pouch from my coat.

  “Gabriel, there is no need for that.” He pushed my hand back slowly.

  “No, please accept this. It should pay for anything she needs. You have more than enough mouths to feed.”

  “Thank you, Gabriel. You have my word the young woman will be well provided for.”

  I turned to Lydia, whose huge, dark eyes seemed glazed over in the torchlight when she raised them to me from beneath her cloak. She held out her hand to me and I clasped it gently before pulling it to my lips and placing a gentle kiss upon her knuckles. Anything more than that and I feared I’d change my mind.

  “Be well, my lady, but do not fail this man and his family. Should you squander this opportunity at a good life, I can assure you, you won’t get another one,” I said as I drank in one long and final look before turning away and walking back to the longboat. I waved to the two figures on the beach and they both waved in return. It would be interesting to learn what Lydia would do with her new life.

  “Gimby is already bringing the ship about,” Miles said.

  “Yes,” I said without turning. “He will meet us to make the trip shorter. Be prepared to board on the go. On those oars, gentlemen, and make it smart.”

  “Are we behind schedule?” Clarke asked.

  “We had a bit of a scrap.” Miles chuckled. “We sunk two ships of the Royal Navy, and we need to get out of this river.”

  “Sorry we weren’t there to give ye’s a hand, sir.”

  “Rest assured lads, Assurance has far from finished her mission, and I’m certain you’ll be present for her final dance,” I said, before giving it thought.

  All eyes fell upon me. Miles alone knew my meaning. As eager and prepared as he was to fire the big guns, I knew he dreaded facing the Stegman.

  Nineteen

  “Are you finished your evening meal, Gabriel, or shall I have them bring you another whole chicken?” Miles asked with a laugh upon entering my cabin just after supper. Our voyage out of the Carolinas was conflict-free and we sighted nary a sail on our pass of Florida. We were, at last, headed for Nassau and the warm days and cool soft evenings gave an air of relaxed exuberance to all aboard. Repairs were made as we cut through the calm waters and after several weeks of occasional rain and good fishing, I believed our course blessed by the sea.

  “You’re a salty old dog, aren’t ye?” I laughed as well, wiping the ale from my lips after a long drink. “So, to whom or what, do I owe the pleasure of your egregiously insulting visit?”

  “Gimby wants to speak to you.”

  “I heard the call of land. The sun stays high here in the south, so we should be able to get a good look at her before dark.”

  “He wants to speak to you about the pirates.”

  “Well, then. No time like the present, I always say,” I remarked, tossing my napkin and following Miles onto the deck.

  “You don’t always say that. What’s gotten into you?” Miles said with a laugh.

  “I’m as fit as a lad of fifteen and this silky water and temperate weather has me feeling a bit spry. Is that a problem for you, Mister Jacobs?” I stopped and pressed my knuckles into my hips as I pulled in my belly and puffed up my chest at him in jest.

  “If I didn’t know you better, I’d swear you need yourself a little feminine company.”

  “If you knew me better, you’d be right,” we laughed in boisterous bursts until we came upon Mister Gimby at his work.

  “Fine evening, isn’t it Mister Gimby?” I asked.

  “Pleasant indeed, Cap’n. The closer we get ta that turquoise sea, the closer we’ll be ta heaven.”

  “Heaven, you say? What about the infestation of pirates? Then again, that’s the purpose of our discussion, is it not?” I asked, leaning back against a stack of crates.

  “I believe you’ll find more than pirates to set yer sights on but ta the matter at hand…” The helmsman rubbed his jaw as he leaned on the wheel. “Cap’n, I ain’t saying these lads ain’t pirates but I ain’t saying they’re seasoned ones neither.”

  Miles folded his arms and glared at the helmsman. “Will they pass? That’s all we’re asking. Will they come back alive if we send them into Nassau or will they be killed as soon as they walk into the first tavern?”

  “They’ll come back alive, as long as you don’t fill their pockets with too much gold. These men have been at sea for over a month and ye don’t need me ta tell ye where they’re headin’ first. Them whores get a whiff of that coin and they’ll see it into their own purses or they’ll tell someone who’ll do it for a cut of the take.”

  I nodded slightly. “Well advised, Mister Gimby.”

  I waited a few moments after we’d take our leave of Gimby to announce, “Miles, gather up the crew. I’m in the spirit for a little celebration.”

  “Will you address them on Gimby’s advice?”

  “Indeed, I will.”

  Calling of all hands was met with great urgency by the men. They crowded around within moments and sat or stood about, appearing to anxiously await whatever words were forming in my head. I looked over the men and most appeared to have not shaved or bathed since we’d parted ways with the Water Wench. Once they’d settled quietly to await my statement, I lifted a tankard of ale and began to speak.

  “Gentlemen, as you know, your hard work on behalf of our mutual endeavors has not gone unnoticed. When we make land in Nassau, you’ll be free to go ashore and make merry in whatever style you choose. However, due to the dangerous nature and reputation of this colony, and based on the experienced and sound advice of Mister Gimby, I insist you limit the amount of money you carry ashore with you.”

  A low groan flowed through the crowd of disappointed faces.

  “Save your grumbling. The less gold you carry, the less likely it will be that you will be killed for it.” Understanding quickly spread over their faces and their moans and groans turned to heads nodding in agreement. When the men parted, I called out, “Don’t run off so fast! Enjoy some of this beautiful, God-given evening. Just for tonight, I’m lifting the ration on the rum. However, you are responsible for your own actions. Make pleasant noise but remember, overindulgence tonight will mean hell to pay in the morning.”

  The cheers of the crew as they rushed for the rum barrels lifted my spirits even higher than they already were. I didn’t know what had come over me but after nearly two months at sea, and surviving a cyclone and sacking ships, I believed I, too, was ready for some levity in my dreary life.

  “Shall we take the Neptune’s Rebel in?” Miles asked, pulling me aside. We’d agreed to temporarily change the name of Assurance, to something a bit more rebellious for our visit to the land of the thieves. Playing on the name of a ship now sitting beneath the Ashley River was cocky, yet while feeling full of ourselves and on the edge of sanity, it made a perfect choice at the time.

  I stroked the new goatee I had shaped out of the mass of red beard I’d grown. I was unaccustomed to the full beard but had stopped shaving out of the need for a disguise. My hair was now certainly long enough to not be mistaken for a captain of the Royal Navy.


  “Cap’n, have you considered what we’re to call ye? Oh and one other thing; ye might want to lose that school-learned speech a’ yours,” Gimby said, stepping up behind me.

  My eyebrows rose on my forehead until they nearly met my scruffy hair. Miles released a hoot and smiled so wide he resembled an amused monkey.

  “Mister Gimby, I ain’t been givin’ it a thought.” I stroked my goatee again. “A man’s name needs to be somethin’ he can live with…and die with.”

  “Captain, if Master Gardner back at school could hear you now, he’d break his paddle over your arse for certain.” Miles chuckled. “How about Captain Red Beard? God knows you toy with the bloody thing enough.” Miles leaned back against the gunnel and smiled.

  “Well, that’s stating the obvious, now isn’t it?” I smiled and turned, leaning against the rail as well. I watched the men working. “I cannot believe—I mean…I can’t believe I found meself in this place, Mister Jacobs.”

  “I’m with you there, my friend.”

  “I ain’t given it much thought ‘til now.” The words were difficult but I needed to learn.

  “And now that you’re giving it thought?”

  I took a deep breath, and sighed but silence still reigned.

  “Do you know the story of Erasmus, Patron Saint of sailors?” Miles asked.

  “That won’t do. I know who he is and even if I didn’t, it sounds too high and mighty to be the name of a pirate.”

  “Well, ye did survive the storm and continued on with your duty leading your crew. Besides, do you honestly think any of these pirates either know or care who Saint Erasmus was?”

  “Never underestimate a man, Miles. After all, look at where we are and where we came from.”

  “You just need to remember to stay in character until we’re back aboard,” Miles said.

  “Thank ye kindly for that, mate. But if ye give me any more a’ that bilge water, I’ll cut yer balls off and ship them back to yer parents, pickled in a bottle of rum,” I said.