Cross Bones

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Cross Bones Page 2

by Editor Anne Regan


  “I am sure wherever we are headed, I will be able to make my way back. You can leave me there.”

  James smirked. “Oh, I don’t think so. You wouldn’t last five minutes where we’re going. You’ll be far better off under my protection.”

  “More like I need protecting from you,” said Daniel, not amused by James’s playful tone. “I assure you I am more than capable of looking after myself. I have been for quite some time.”

  “We’re going to Plesmaya. The British Navy aren’t exactly welcome there.”

  “The pirates’ playground,” Daniel groaned.

  “And while we’re on the subject of you not being welcome, my crew will not be happy you’re on board—I can’t be seen to be pandering to the British.” James’s smile was just a little too wide for Daniel’s comfort.

  “And?”

  “Let’s just say they won’t be expecting you to be getting much use of the guest quarters.”

  “I am not your catamite.”

  “Of course not.”

  “James….”

  James laughed, and Daniel saw the twinkle in his eye. “The rooms next to mine are free. I’ll have Blot bring you a change of clothes and some water to wash in. You were always an excellent actor, Daniel. I’m sure you can persuade the crew that there’s a good reason for me to keep you around.”

  James grabbed his hand and hauled Daniel to his feet but didn’t let him go. “I gave you up once. I won’t do so again.”

  “You’re wasting your time.”

  James winked. “We’ll see.”

  DANIEL would not have described his new cabin as basic, but it was by no means grand. Unlike the large bed in James’s room, this cabin had a hammock stretched between two joists on the far wall. There was no window; instead the room was dimly lit by oil lamps, one on a table in the corner and another that hung from a bracket near the door.

  Left for him was a bowl of fresh water to wash in and a pile of clothes. Daniel stripped out of the clothes he’d been wearing for days, his attention on the water, which was very welcome, a luxury he’d rarely use in such a wasteful manner on board Expedience. Washing away the salt was refreshing, and the cooling nature of the water took away the tightness of his skin from the sunburn, even if it was only a temporary reprieve. Although he would not consider himself a vain man, he used the small looking glass on the side to see if his skin was peeling as badly as he feared, and was surprised to see it had survived better than his clothing. His long face was red in patches, his nose peeling, but apart from that, he looked no different than normal. True, he could do with a shave and a thong to tie his dark, lank hair back from his face, but his ordeal hadn’t made him any gaunter than usual and his green eyes, although dry, had no worrying tinge of red around the eyeballs.

  He picked up the top item on the pile of clothes, noticing that everything he’d been provided was black. The shirt was made of a soft material, probably silk, impractical for an active role at sea, but then from what James had alluded to, Daniel’s perceived role on this ship would have very little to do with his nautical abilities. Daniel slipped it over his head, the slippery material sliding over his skin in a way that none of his old linen shirts ever did. Next was a pair of cotton trousers, but as he pulled them on, he realized their cut was tighter than he usually preferred to wear. There was also a pair of boots to replace his old ones, which had been lost at some point between being dragged from his cabin on Expedience and ending up on board the Opal. The boots weren’t a perfect fit, but they would suffice for now, and Daniel tucked his trousers into them and then his shirt into his trousers.

  With no wish to become further acquainted with the crew than necessary, Daniel clambered into the hammock. He hadn’t slept in one for years, and certainly not since he’d been awarded his captaincy, but he found it very easy to get comfortable and to allow the mesh cradle to support him. Exhausted from his ordeal, and his mind ragged from the shock of seeing James alive, Daniel succumbed to a deep sleep.

  The few hours of rest he managed were interrupted by Blot as the cabin boy shook the hammock violently to wake him.

  “What?” asked Daniel.

  “Captain says you’re to come and eat with the senior crew.”

  “Tell your captain he can fuck off,” he said, rolling over.

  “Daren’t be saying that to him. He’s most insistent—I reckon he wants to show you off.”

  Daniel turned to stare at Blot over his shoulder. “Are you always this impertinent?”

  “Oh yes,” said Blot cheerfully. “Best come along under your own will. He’s been known to carry reluctant prisoners over his shoulder if they don’t comply, and you don’t seem the sort to like your pride being bruised.”

  Daniel sat up and swung himself out of the hammock. He didn’t doubt Blot was telling the truth; James had been a stubborn bastard when he was younger, and Daniel didn’t think pirate life would have altered that. Still, it irked that he was to be paraded around as a prize, and he had no intention of playing a subservient fool, damn James and his desire to boast to his crew.

  He didn’t reply to Blot’s cheeky remarks, but followed the boy out of the cabin and through the corridors of the ship until they reached a room that led off the galley and was lit by lamps and candles. There were six long tables, but only one of them was occupied. James sat at the head of the table as if holding court, surrounded by nine other men.

  “Ah, Captain Horton,” said James, getting to his feet, “good of you to join us for our evening meal.”

  A few of the men snickered, and another laughed outright into the flagon he was drinking from. Daniel could see that a place set to James’s left had been left unoccupied. Without answering, he walked over to the table and took the empty seat.

  Platters of food were brought out from the galley, exotic fruits and nuts, roast meats and fresh vegetables, all foodstuffs that were not readily available on Expedience, and by the way the men looked longingly at what was on offer, they weren’t a daily occurrence aboard the Opal either. The men held back on serving themselves until James had taken his share and placed a few choice pieces on the plate in front of Daniel.

  “Only the best for such an esteemed guest,” said James, raising his flagon and drinking to Daniel’s health. “It’s not every day we dine with one of His Majesty’s captains.”

  “Guest? Is that what I am? I would’ve thought prisoner was a better epitaph.”

  “I do have some irons I could slap you in,” said James, “but I’d much prefer to play those sort of games away from the dinner table—wouldn’t want to give my men indigestion, now would I?”

  “I’m sure your men’s stomachs are stronger than that, but if they’d like to see me try and gut you, then I’d be more than willing to let them watch you try and shackle me.”

  The pirate opposite, a man with a puckered scar across his left cheek and a grin made of more gums than teeth, choked on the mouthful of beer he had taken, spluttering loudly.

  “Got yerself a live ’un there, Capt’n,” said the man to Daniel’s left. He was older than the others, maybe even in his sixties, which for a sailor was rare, and had a head of wild hair streaked with gray and piercing blue eyes that sparkled mischievously at James.

  “You know I’m always partial to a man with spirit, Liam.”

  “I fear even you may have met yer match with this one. I’d be keeping a knife under my pillow if I were you.”

  “Oh I’m sure, one way or another, Daniel will learn how to behave himself,” said James, motioning the rest of the men to eat.

  Liam picked up a date from a platter and bit into it, pulling a face of pure pleasure. “Most of ’em do—eventually.”

  Daniel decided he wasn’t going to be drawn further into James’s games, and instead concentrated on the food in front of him, finishing off the roast hog and pieces of fresh fruit and ignoring James as he bragged about a wild night locked in a cellar with a barrel of port and a pair of non-identical twins
.

  The food almost made up for the company, and finding the beer as palatable, Daniel managed to endure the meal and James’s proprietary touches. James’s hand rested on his thigh, a solid weight that Daniel allowed, knowing that James wanted him to react, and he had no intention of giving him the satisfaction.

  The banter between James and his crew appeared genuine, and there was a small part of Daniel that wondered how a pirate could garner such loyalty where Daniel himself had failed. They talked of raiding parties and selling looted goods with no worry that he was there, that he could report back to the Admiralty with details of their crimes.

  “We should do another silk run,” said the Spaniard, whose name was Carlos. “Your new friend looks good in it.”

  “He looks even better out of it,” said James.

  “That’s not something you’ll have the opportunity of witnessing.” Daniel stood up abruptly. “I will return to my room.”

  James’s hand shot out and grabbed Daniel’s wrist. “Sit down.”

  The table fell quiet, the eyes of every man now watching, waiting for Daniel’s response.

  James’s grip tightened around his wrist, his eyes narrowing in warning.

  Daniel sat down.

  “Good, you’re beginning to learn your place.”

  Daniel balled his fists in his lap, ignoring the jeers from the men.

  James’s hand returned tentatively back onto his thigh, almost apologetically.

  “I think, gentleman,” said James, “that it is time for me and my guest to retire. Come on, Daniel. I will escort you back to your room.”

  A round of catcalls and wolf whistles accompanied them as they left the dining area, James’s hand on the small of Daniel’s back as he guided him through the ship to the captain’s quarters.

  “Share a nightcap with me?” asked James.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Port or brandy?”

  Once inside the cabin, the door shut, James poured two large measures of brandy from a decanter on his desk and handed one to James. “I had to do that.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “Those men would happily slit your throat and throw you overboard without a second thought. It was necessary for them to believe you were under my control.”

  “From what I saw, they would’ve followed your orders without you having to resort to reducing me to your pet.”

  James snorted. “Don’t let the dinner table camaraderie fool you, Daniel. There’s no loyalty or devotion on the Opal; our truce is held together by gold and my willingness to share equally any prize we take. My head stays on my shoulders and my body at the helm because I am worth more to them alive than dead.”

  “Not all grog and treasure chests; you do surprise me, James.”

  “And yet I’m still on my ship.”

  Daniel slammed the glass of brandy down on the table. “You can keep your ship, Merric. I hope you enjoy sleeping with one eye open and guard your neck in the night.”

  He pushed past James, heading back to his cabin.

  THE ringing of the ship’s bell cut through the layers of his sleep-soft mind; flailing in his hammock, Daniel landed in an undignified heap on the floor. The dull thuds in the corridor told him the crew were heading to the deck, and without a second thought he was out of his cabin and heading topside.

  He emerged onto the main deck into a mêlée of men heading toward the rigging and shouts of staccato orders from James. The night was clear, the weather calm, and there was no sign of damage to the ship, so Daniel was at a loss to understand what had whipped the crew into such a frantic state. He peered out to sea, turning a full 360 degrees. The moon provided enough light for him to see, but he couldn’t identify anything that could be a pursuing ship or an enemy on the brink of boarding.

  Daniel ran to join James on the wheel deck. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re too close to the reef. We were farther along the coast than I thought we’d be, and we’re in danger of running aground.”

  The men in the rigging were trimming the sails on the orders of the boatswain, who in turn was looking to James for direction.

  Running to the side of the ship, Daniel could just make out the break patterns of the waves. He recognized the shape of the headland, visible in dark relief on the horizon, and knew exactly where they were.

  “You need to get her starboard. Any further port and she’ll hit the outlying rocks.”

  James didn’t move the wheel he tightly gripped.

  “For God’s sake, James, you used to trust me over anyone else on something like this—I’m not trying to wreck your ship. I want to survive tonight without having to swim to land. Now turn the damn ship to starboard—hard!”

  James nodded once and pulled hard on the wheel. Daniel glanced at the sail, relieved to see the wind was in the right direction and strong enough to propel the ship. The Opal lurched violently with the sudden turn, and Daniel could see James fighting with the wheel. He raced to James’s side, and together they steadied the wheel. There was a cry from the rigging as a man lost his footing and came crashing downward but was saved from hitting the deck by a coil of rope that had caught around his foot.

  The ship heaved again, and she began to move.

  “The rocks here extend out farther than you think—we need to go the long way ’round if you want your keel in one piece,” Daniel said to James, both clinging on to the wheel.

  James merely grunted in reply, then sent out a torrent of orders to his crew, making sure they could capitalize on the direction of the wind. The Opal protested with a loud creak of her rigging, but she began to turn, moving away from the dangerous rocks. Minutes ticked slowly by as, inch by inch, the ship moved to a safe direction.

  “We should be fine now,” said Daniel, releasing the wheel and stepping away from James. “You’ll need to adjust your course.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Know?”

  “The rocks—they’re not on the charts.”

  “I know these waters better than anyone, and the corrected charts for this area are in my cabin on Expedience. They’re one of the reasons I’m in the Caribbean; I’m not just here to chase pirates and kill Frenchmen.”

  With the danger past, James ordered Brillack to take the wheel and sent additional lookouts up to the crow’s nest as a precaution. He pulled a chart from his belt where it had been rolled up and stowed for safekeeping. Unrolling it, James showed it to Daniel.

  “Can you help me update this?”

  Daniel took the map. Compared to some of the versions he had seen, it was fairly detailed, but there were several places which were different in reality than what was depicted.

  “Why should I?”

  “To stop us all from being killed.”

  “I’ll be off this ship in a few days; what do I care what happens to a bunch of pirates?”

  James glowered at him, but Daniel wasn’t intimidated.

  “What’s in it for me?”

  “What do you want?”

  “No repeat of what happened at dinner. I’m not your new toy.”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  “Then I suggest you and your ship enjoy the hidden reefs and outcrops.”

  Daniel smirked as James growled. “Fine. You have my word.”

  With little care, Daniel rolled up the chart. “Excellent. I will update these for you tomorrow—don’t expect me to leave my cabin until they’re finished.”

  DANIEL had always enjoyed cartography. The art of ensuring a chart was detailed and correct was time-consuming work, and it meant he had an excuse to avoid the rest of the crew for most of the day.

  His chart-correcting skills had proven him to be an excellent navigator, with a comprehensive knowledge of the region and the ability to decode the mysteries of even the sparsest of maps, but it didn’t mean the men thought of him as anything more than James’s bed warmer. And, like the other treasure James had collected, some of the crew wer
e keen to have their share. Brillack was one of the most obvious, standing too close to him as he explained the new regions on the map to James and some of his crew, but he had seen the hungry looks of other men as well, and it was very disconcerting.

  Escaping from the captain’s ready room after the map discussion, Daniel headed back to his cabin. As he rounded a corner, he was shoved forward. He stumbled and landed on the floor. Turning, he saw Carlos grinning as he stood over him. The Spaniard helped him to his feet, crowding Daniel’s personal space.

  “You should watch where you are going,” he said, his hand resting on Daniel’s waist.

  “You should watch where you put your hands,” said Daniel, moving sideways to put some distance between them.

  “The captain may like you coy, but I don’t have his patience.”

  Daniel was about to shove Carlos away when James rounded the corner, affecting a look of deep loathing when he saw how close Carlos was standing to Daniel.

  “What exactly is going on here?”

  “I thought I’d show our English friend some of my famous Spanish hospitality.”

  James grabbed Carlos by the collar and pushed him forcefully into the wall. “Hands off.”

  Carlos frowned. “You’re not one to be so protective of your whores.”

  “Don’t make me tell you again, Carlos; this one is out of bounds. And make sure the other men know that Captain Horton is not for general consumption.”

  Blot came running down the corridor, and all three men turned to stare at the boy, whose cheeks were flushed with excitement. “It’s the Mirabelle, Captain, and she’s in reach.”

  Their disagreement immediately forgotten, Carlos and James hurried topside, leaving Daniel to stare after them. He looked at the smiling Blot. “The Mirabelle?”

  “Trading vessel,” said Blot, already racing away. “Captain’s been after her for weeks.”

  Daniel crinkled his brow in confusion, but only for a second as he realized what was about to happen. He emerged on deck minutes later to see James examining a sailing ship on the horizon through an ornate brass telescope.

 

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