Gunpowder & Gold (Justified Treason, Book 4): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories

by Cristi Taijeron

  “Aye, they plainly stated that if one dies the other gets his loot so I reckon they share a hammock, too.” Sterling laughed then finished his last sip of rum. “I suppose we should refill this flask and see if I can catch up.”

  “I have a better idea. I think you should take me to get a tattoo.”

  “A tattoo?” His eyes widened. “What the hell for?”

  “What the hell did you get yours for?” I poked his nose.

  Sounding as drunk as I felt, he babbled on about the things his tattoo meant to him, but I just fanned my hand at him. “Aye, aye. I know all that, and you know I adore it, but this idea is just as meaningful to me.”

  “What is it?” He belched.

  “A black rose.”

  “Hmm. Where at?”

  “Just a little one, somewhere only you and I can see it.”

  “It’s going to hurt like hell, you know?”

  “Getting stabbed hurt like hell, too, but I survived it.”

  “Ah, but why suffer at all when you could be getting pleasured in my bed instead.” He grabbed my arse and squeezed it tight as he pulled me in for a kiss.

  Sucking on his lip, I mumbled, “Sex first, tattoo after?”

  “We have an accord, Madame Bentley.” Grabbing my hand, he led me towards the stairs.

  Our pleasant agreement was detoured when we heard hoggish grunts rumbling from beneath the stairway. “Yuck. I think I still do hate this place,” I complained, wanting to hurry away from the disturbing sounds.

  With a laugh, Sterling slapped my arse to rush me along. On my way up the stairs I heard the dirty old hog come stumbling from underneath. I did my best to ignore him, but the heartbreaking cries of the female he left behind made for a sound I could not walk away from.

  Against Sterling’s wishes, I ran back down the stairs and toward her. Finding a dark-haired young lady curled up in a ball with her dress all askew, I knelt down to help her up.

  Tucking into the darkened corner, she whined, “No. Please no. Leave me alone.”

  Holding my hands up to show her I was not a threat, I said, “It’s all right, love. I am a woman and I won’t hurt you.”

  “What do you want?” she hissed.

  “I want to help you,” I said. “My name is Black Rose and this man is my husband, Sterling. He won’t hurt you either. Will you tell me your name, sweetheart?”

  Relaxing her fearful pose, she sniffled, “My name is Mercy, but the Lord has given me none. I was taken from my home on Barbados. Stolen right out of my bedroom in the middle of the night and sold into prostitution. I was an innocent virgin before I got here, and now I am just a filthy disgrace.”

  “Oh, darling, you are not a disgrace, but a victim.” Helping her up, I looked to Sterling for support. “We can’t leave her here.”

  He shook his head.

  Mercy shook her head as well. “Thank you, Black Rose, but there is no hope for me or my baby girl.”

  The broken pieces of my heart sunk into my gut. “You have a baby? Good God, where is she now?”

  “She is with my friend who was taken the same way I was. I have to get back to them now.”

  She began walking away but I followed her. “Wait. There is one thing I can do.” I handed her a bag of loot. “Take this. Stay home with your baby and off these awful streets for as long as you can.”

  Her glassy eyes filled with tears. As she looked in the bag she whispered, “Why are you doing this?”

  “It seems I am unable to have my own children, so I am more than happy to help you care for yours. If you tell me where you are staying, I will do what I can to assist you every time I come to port.”

  She threw herself at me for a hug. “God bless you, Black Rose.”

  Once we walked her home, we headed for our room. Feeling heartbroken and disturbed, I pulled Sterling away from the stairs. “After that tragic encounter, sex is the last thing on my mind. I suggest a change of plans. Tattoo now, sex later.”

  He slapped his forehead. “Damn you, woman. I thought you would’ve forgotten about that tattoo. I did.”

  “I have not. Let’s go before anything else gets in the way.”

  Though reluctant as hell, spewing disapproving grunts and grumbles, he took my hand and led me towards the tattoo parlor. Crossing the main street, we walked past a crowd of men—one of which he knew and said hello to—then squeezed between the walls of another nasty and narrow alley. After dipping under two rickety stairways, we hopped over a horribly stinky ditch and ended up at the front door of Dragon Fire Opium Den.

  Taken aback by the thought of being anywhere near opium again, I took a deep breath to get my wits about me before entering. Though I had no desire for the heathen sap before walking through the door, the instant I smelt the smoke I started craving it.

  “Can I help you?” the well-dressed Asian man behind the counter asked. His brash tone made me think he was annoyed we were there.

  Sterling took his hat off. “Is that how you treat your old friends, Saki?”

  “Ah, Mister Bentley!” Saki came from behind the counter to shake Sterling’s hand. “What bring you here?”

  “My lady wants to get a tattoo.” Sterling pulled me beside him.

  “Lady?” Mister Saki turned his head sideways and squinted at me. “The world is strange these days.”

  Sterling chuckled. “Aye. You don’t know the half of it. Anyhow, you got any of your female artists here? She wants it somewhere discreet.”

  “Yes, oh, yes. Yin is here. She my best anyhow. I bring you to her room.”

  Mister Saki led us down a narrow, smoke-filled hall, and then opened the door to a room glowing with red lantern light. There were a few other men in there, sitting on a sofa, not moving. Pretty Asian wenches were tending to them, hand and foot. Though the men on the sofa were completely motionless, they kept smoking the pipes as the ladies lit them.

  “Yin,” Mister Saki called, and then spewed out a list of commands in his language. Next thing I knew I was in a private room, sitting in a red velvet chair watching Yin prepare an opium pipe.

  “You smoke?” she asked. Though I told her I was not interested, she insisted. “You smoke.”

  So I did.

  As the familiar buzz overtook me, I realized why the place was called Dragon Fire. The red lighting made for a ghastly array of shadows, and there were creepy little dragon statues displayed around the room. It seemed they were all looking at me as Yin prepared her tools. Needles, soot, and ink.

  With the needle in hand, she asked, “What you want?”

  Sedated by the opium, I was hardly able to talk. I pointed at my vine-shaped scar and mumbled, “Black rose.”

  I felt the needle touching me, but I wasn’t sure if it hurt. I heard Sterling talking with Mister Saki in the hall, and I wondered how they could talk so fast. The men on the sofa in the other room had the right idea. They were just sitting. Aye. Just sitting. Dozing off into a cloudy dreamland full of dragons and fire, I felt the heat, I saw colorful wings, and I even choked on the smoke, but everything was all right in the dragon fire world.

  I was drawn back to reality when I felt a horrible poke. “What the hell was that?” I shot up to look around. Wait…I didn’t sit up. I wanted to but I couldn’t move. “Why are you poking me?” I asked the pretty lady.

  “More smoke.” She handed me the pipe.

  I inhaled the flavorful smoke and quickly dozed off again.

  Eventually I was startled by the sound of Sterling’s angry voice. “Oh, shit! I said a little tattoo. That shit’s huge. I thought you spoke English.”

  “You know I speak English,” Yin snipped. “Last time I tell you sweet things all night.”

  “Ah, I don’t remember that.”

  “Because you stupid. But I’m not. She told me vine. I follow line and give her what she ask for.”

  “Let me see it.” I interrupted their argument.

  Sterling sat me up. In the mirror, I saw a beautiful black rose vin
e etched along the scar that would have otherwise been so ugly. “It’s beautiful, Yin. Just like in my dream.”

  “In your crazy drug dreams,” Sterling huffed as he stood me up. As he put my coat back on me, he continued to banter with the pretty little tattoo artist who had made my dream come true.

  “Don’t mind him,” I told her. “He’s cranky, but I love him and I love you, too, Yin. Thank you.” I hugged her goodbye.

  As Sterling led me down the alley he said many mean things about my new friend. Hardly able to hear him, or walk, I mumbled, “Hold on,” and sat down.

  “Get up.” He pulled me up by my good arm. “You can’t be sitting in this nasty place.”

  “But I can’t walk through it, either. My feet feel like clouds.” I held tight to his arm.

  “Damn it,” he grumbled and picked me up.

  Carrying me through the alley, he railed on about how stupid it was of me to get such a large tattoo when we were planning to retire. I tried to ignore him by eyeing the passing world from over his shoulder. The torchlights were glowing warmly, illuminating the dense fog which had rolled in. The sounds were muffled, the sights were ghostly, and the heat of the night was so thick I could feel it weighing down my lungs as I breathed. Slowly. Breath by breath, I held tight to my lover—glad that he was keeping me safe from the foreboding crowd.

  Amidst the fearful scene, I came across a particularly haunting image. Wearing all black, slinking in and out of the foggy air and dreadful shadows, he came and went so swiftly, I was unsure if he was real or a figment of my paranoid imagination.

  “I think someone is following us,” I whispered to Sterling.

  “Maybe you could ask him to give you a tiny tattoo next time he shows up,” he sneered as we came upon the main street.

  “There he is again.” I gasped in fear when I saw the Shadow Man disappear around the corner.

  Huffing in irritation, Sterling set me down, then turned around to check the area. Finding no one and nothing to prove my suspicion true, he nudged me towards the docks.

  The wooden planks seemed to creak extra loudly under my feet, and the way the fog was bouncing off of the water led my mind into wild visions of abstract worlds.

  “Get in the boat.” Sterling’s words brought me back to reality not much saner than the strange fantasy I had been dreaming up.

  “The boat looks so wobbly.” I touched the rim with my foot and dreaded getting in. “Why do we have to go to the ship when we have a room at the inn?”

  “Because I’m on watch tonight, that’s why,” he simply stated. “Get in the damned boat, Charlie, or I’ll leave you here.”

  Though I knew he never would, I yelped in horror, “But Shadow Man is back there.”

  Grabbing my hand, he offered to help me into the dreadful little boat. With all the courage I could muster, I followed his lead. The moment the boat rocked beneath my feet, I lost my balance and fell, whacking my face against the bench. “Oh, I knew it. Damn it.” Rising to my knees, I rubbed my face. “That would have hurt like hell if I wasn’t high on opium.”

  He laughed, too. Eased by his lightened mood, I snuggled against his chest as he began rowing. It was so warm and wonderful there next to his powerful heartbeat. The Shadow Man will never find me here, I snickered to myself. While breathing in the scent of Sterling’s earthy aroma, I wished the whole world could be as happy as I was in my secret hiding place.

  Chapter 5

  High As The Clouds

  As Told By Sterling Bentley

  Written by Sterling Bentley:

  February 2nd, 1669

  As always, the men have been spending their time in port drinking and gallivanting like each night would be their last. Though Charlie and I have had plenty of our own fun, I’ve not forgotten about our mission. Gold and retirement.

  Plenty of the men I’ve met over the week have heard about Lord James Reid’s plans to take this Mariposa de Oro, but he has been wisely stingy with the information leading up to the attack. No one knows a damn thing about it. With no intelligence leading me towards our desired prize, I have to find a new plan to please the eighty men I have taken on account. Before they vote me out…or worse.

  B

  “Or worse,” I said out loud as I put my quill away.

  Sitting in my cabin alone—lanterns swaying with the bobbing tide and the salty night breeze blowing through the open stern windows—I wondered what the hell I was going to do next. I was too tired for plotting, and too sober for celebrating. Figuring that rum would either knock me out or excite me, drinking lots of it seemed like a suitable solution.

  Pouring myself a glass, I decided to get to work on my maps. Focusing intently on my work as the hours passed, I drank and drank until my vision blurred. Without intending to, I ended up falling asleep facedown on the table.

  “Wake up you milk-livered ol’ grandmother!” A loud voice jarred me out of my slumber. “Who the hell’s running this kitty show?” The thump of an intruder’s hand bashing against my table caused me to jump to my feet.

  Catching my footing—and my breath—I focused my blurry eyes on the familiar face. “Ah, looky what the hurricane blew in.”

  Wearing a feathered cavalier hat, and a long burgundy coat with no shirt beneath it, Faron Flynn threw his arms out to his sides. “Bentley, my boy!”

  Faron’s level of drunkenness was apparent in his sloppy footing as he nearly tackled me with his barbaric hug. Not to mention the fact that he smelled like he’d been swimming in a vat of rum. As we patted backs and greeted each other with friendly insults, Charlie and Marty came stumbling in the door. As we patted backs and greeted each other with friendly insults, Charlie and Marty came stumbling through the door. Though I preferred to call Charlie’s best friend, Marty—the male name she used while in her masculine disguise—Charlie was kissing her cheeks and calling her Mary, as they hugged and cried like lost children reunited with their mothers.

  Marty looked as good as ever, wearing a plum colored coat with gold buttons and embroidery. The dark kohl under her icy blue eyes made them look all the more enticing. As soon as she and Charlie were done gushing over each other, I took Marty’s hand. Moving back her lacy cuff, I kissed her knuckles like a proper gentleman. “Hello there, beautiful.”

  “Nice to see you again, Sterling,” Mary slurred. The way she swayed and squinted assured me that she was just as drunk as Faron was.

  “The pleasure’s all mine, lovely.” I winked, relishing the fact that Charlie let me be sweet with her pretty friend.

  Focusing her gaze on my face, Marty reached for my cheekbone. “Another scar on your handsome face. What a shame.”

  Flynn interrupted us, “Ah, what’s a shame is that your candied arse got caught up by the law for whooping on a noblewoman.” He impersonated the act of holding a person by the throat and slapping them around.

  Marty slapped his arm. “Nonsense, Faron. You know as well as I that Sterling did not commit that heinous crime.” She looked at me. “We did see your Wanted posters, though. What the hell truly happened?”

  “I’ll let Charlie tell you that fen-sucked story cause it’s one of her making.” I sat down.

  “It is, it is,” Charlie easily admitted. “But where did you see the posters, Mary?”

  “Port Royal.” Faron took the seat across from me and kicked his feet up on the table like he owned the place. “The drawing looked just like you, mate. I even saw some wenches gawking and ogling over your face when they walked by.”

  I patted my cheek. “Irresistible.”

  “You won’t be half as irresistible with a noose around your neck,” Faron jested.

  Sitting down on his lap, Marty said, “Who says they are ever going to catch him?”

  Wrapping my arms around Charlie’s waist, I pulled her down on my lap. “We’ll be rich enough to buy a pardon afore they ever find me.”

  “Oh? Have you found us a new heading?” Charlie perked up.

  “Maybe. Where you
headed, Flynn?”

  “Wherever you’re going.” He laughed. “I need a new navigator.”

  “What happened to Langston? I thought he’d taken on the chore.”

  “His skinny arse retired ashore after our last run and I’m about to throw the Frenchman who took his place overboard. He knows his shit, but he annoys the hell out of me. If’n you’d like to consort with the mighty Faron Flynn, I’ll sell that bookworm at the market. Hell, I’ll even split the payoff with you.”

  I raised a brow. “Honestly, I lost the bait I’d planned to hook my riches with and I’m looking for another target before I get thrown overboard myself.”

  “That’d be no good at all. Not with a ship this pretty to lose.” Flynn looked around my cabin.

  Charlie bowed. “I decorated this room myself.”

  “Well done.” Flynn nodded at her. “Glad to see you’re giving Bentley more than a hard time these days.”

  She started snipping about his remark, but Flynn looked back at me and spoke right over her bantering. “I hear you took this bitch in a bloody mutiny.”

  “Aye.” I sliced open another bottle of rum. “And she’s definitely worth all the blood drawn for me to claim her. I like the way she rides the wave as much as I like how my wife rides me in bed.” I slapped Charlie’s thigh.

  “I know what you mean.” Flynn raised his bottle to meet mine. “There’s something sensual about sailing a good ship.”

  After a chug of rum, I asked him, “What are you sailing these days?”

  “I’ve held tight to my Endless Horizon. We got enough loot from our last raid to refit her. Everything’s new and shiny like a polished pearl. I even got her some new guns.”

  “I’m working on getting a couple swivels myself. Charlie’s little friend at the market is willing to bargain with her, and being low on loot I was thinking I’d throw this in on the trade.” I passed him the map I’d been working on.

  “Damn, Bentley.” He eyed the unfinished piece. “I don’t miss your fat mouth one bit, but I sure as shit miss having your skills aboard. In fact…” He looked around to be sure no one else was near enough to hear. “I think you’re just the man I need for the mission I’m working on. See, I signed on with Black James Reid to take down the Mariposa de Oro and—”