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

Page 10

by Cristi Taijeron


  Rory spoke up. “We came to warn you about the danger you’re in.”

  “Danger?” My memory of Voodoo Doubloon caused me to shiver.

  “Ow!” the redhead shouted, still coddling his injury. “I would have left you for the pirate hunter if I’d have known you were going to shoot me.”

  Flynn raised his second pistol to fire again.

  “Let him be.” Mary waved her hand at Faron. “And you,” she nodded at Rory, “remove your weapons and take a seat. I’m tired of standing here.”

  Far more concerned with this warning than with the slippery hands of the gap-toothed trollop, I welcomed Rory and the bleeding redhead to our table.

  “What’s your name?” I asked him as he sat down.

  “Lee Buckley,” the young man answered with an Irish accent.

  “And do you have a last name, Rory?”

  “Hawke,” he proudly responded.

  Sterling interrupted. “Our cook’s name is Hawke. Big fella, mutton chops, always threatening to make soup out of folks who upset him. Any relation?”

  “I have no relations,” Rory coldly stated. “Just call me Rory.”

  “All right. I’m Black Rose. Quartermaster of this Wicked Rose, and in case Sterling was too busy kissing on your friend to introduce himself, he’s the captain.”

  Without looking me in the eyes, Rory nervously twiddled his fingers. “They…they weren’t kissing.” The way he stuttered led me to believe he was afraid of me. I liked that. “Shannyn’s my lady, and though she is a bit loose with her friendly affection, she isn’t a man-stealing tramp. I can assure you that she’ll keep her friendly hugs to herself from now on.” He squinted at his lady, who quickly nodded to agree.

  “Nor will my husband ever again let her get that close.” I glared at Sterling. “Now, on to more important matters. Who the hell is this pirate hunter and what in the world does he want with us?”

  Though I was the one asking the questions, Rory addressed his response to Sterling. “Being how we are forsaking our loyalty to Voodoo Doubloon to bring you this information, Buckley and I ask to swear ourselves to your articles, book and mirror, before we continue.”

  Sterling smirked. “Are you sure you want in with us after all that? We just shot your mate, threw knives at your wench, and held you at gunpoint.”

  “That’s exactly why I want in,” Rory easily responded to him. I was thoroughly amused by the way he was more threatened by me than Sterling. “I like the fire you mates fight with.”

  “Ah, I like this one.” Flynn patted Rory’s back. “He’s witty and cunning, and I like how all that shit didn’t scare him off.”

  While cleaning her bloodied arm, Mary said, “And Buckley is sitting here with us like he wasn’t just shot in the leg. He’s tough and he’s cute. I say we keep him.”

  Lee blushed. “Aw, it was just a wee grazing of my leg, madam.”

  “I’ll clean it up for you after I clean mine.” Mary winked.

  “You’re lucky I was drunk and half blind, bloke,” Faron jested. Then he took note of what Mary was doing. “Why the hell are you bleeding?” He roared loud enough to shake the timbers and silence the room.

  I answered for her. “The reason she is bleeding is the exact reason we are going to let these blokes sign our code.”

  While heading over to get the book containing our articles, I went on to tell Sterling about our encounter with Voodoo Doubloon.

  Stroking his goatee, he listened closely as Mary and I shared our story, but as soon as I mentioned Harold’s terrible act of treason, I watched his face change from intrigue to rage. “Harold? That fen-sucked, wart-face son of a bitch. I’ll slice his treacherous heart out and feed it to his lying mouth!”

  “I already killed him. That’s old news. But he probably already shared our plans with Voodoo. What the hell are we going to do now?”

  “We’ll start by never letting you wenches go to town without us again.” He pointed at me and Mary like he was our father.

  “Never.” Flynn slammed his fist on the table.

  Mary and I both yelled that we had handled ourselves just fine, but Flynn shouted over our bantering. “Shut your mouths. Doubloon needs to be rid of. Tonight. That’s what’s next.”

  By now, Lee and Rory had signed the articles, so Sterling motioned for them to explain. “Talk already, talk. Tell us what we’re up against.”

  Rory answered, “You’re up against Lloyd Wilshire’s plans to settle a vengeance he has with Mason Bentley.”

  My mind lit up with interest. Hannah mentioned such a thing, but she made it sound like the matter was secretive. Craving to know more, I asked Rory, “How in the world do you know about that?”

  “I was Lloyd’s personal servant so I knew all his business. He never quite recovered from—or quit complaining about—the damage cast upon his estate after Mason burned his newly built mansion and freshly planted sugar fields to the ground.”

  Sterling nearly spit out his rum. “He’s the one who did that? Ha! Just when I thought I couldn’t respect the old man any more.”

  Once again, Rory’s face shone with that eerily familiar grin. “After all the shit Lloyd’s put me through, I wish I could’ve watched it burn.”

  Sterling and Rory rang their glasses together for cheers, then Rory continued, “So the night you attacked Lloyd, he and his spooky ol’ mother, Clarinda, told the governor how you beat on Madame Wilshire. But once he found out that the governor wanted you alive, Lloyd took matters into his own hands.”

  “What does Hannah think about this?” I inquired, mortified that the riddle-weaving wench wouldn’t stand up to save the son she claimed to love so dearly.

  “I don’t know what she thinks about anything. She just hides in her room where she talks to her bird and paints pictures of garden flowers.”

  Shaking my head loose of the webs that had been woven with that woman’s insistent riddles, I asked Rory, “So why did you leave?”

  “Hating it there as much as I did, I decided to join Lee when he signed on with Voodoo to hunt for you.”

  Lee shot up. “But I didn’t know he was after you, Bentley. I only joined his crew to make some loot, but once I found out who he was after, I figured I’d find a way to warn you he was coming. My father used to tell me stories about you and your father, and half the reason I became a sailor was because of those tales. Hell, I even…”

  “I reckon he’d rather be your servant than another captain’s quartermaster,” Rory interrupted.

  Lee nodded his head like a happy puppy. “It’s true.”

  Sterling’s face lifted with a cocky grin, obviously basking in Lee’s admiration.

  Rory looked just as humored by their silly little bond as I was. “There you have it. Lee thinks you’re some kind of king of the sea, and I simply like the fact that you and your father have caused so much grief for Lloyd. So here we are, informing you of what you are up against.”

  Stretching out his arms, Sterling yawned. “Nothing ever builds a better bond than having an enemy in common.”

  Flynn raised his glass to that. “I say we assign a few extra men on watch and keep a good eye out for his ship afore we leave at dawn, then head out on a little hunt of our own.”

  “Wait.” I kinked my head to the side. “What the hell is the name of his ship?”

  “Shadow,” they harmonized in a ghastly tone.

  “I have never seen that ship,” Sterling said. “And I keep a good eye on everyone coming and going from the harbor.”

  Lee answered, “He made us weigh anchor in some faraway cove so he wouldn’t be seen among the crowd of ships. We scaled cliffs and waded through rivers to get here.”

  “Oh, good.” I wiped the sweat from my forehead. “Maybe he’ll go away an leave us alone now.”

  “No, no, no,” Lee said. “That man is relentless. Who knows what the hell he has planned now, but he comes as quick as he goes, and…”

  “And if he comes after me in this h
arbor, I’ll get to enjoy another evening with my new guns.” Sterling flexed his arms like he was ready for a fight.

  Flynn added, “And I’ll clean up what’s left of the mess after Bentley blasts him out of the bay.”

  Rory and Lee smiled at each other, looking to be thrilled by the confidence of the notorious sea captains.

  Mary clapped her hands enthusiastically. “Well, it sounds like we’ve come to the point where we have a round of rum to celebrate the newest members of our brotherhood.”

  Flynn slid his mug in her direction. “Me first.”

  Just to spite him, she filled Lee’s mug first.

  Once she had everyone served, Mary sat beside me and whispered, “What about Shannyn?”

  “What about her?”

  “You have plenty of male friends that Sterling doesn’t complain about, Charlie, and if she truly is his childhood companion, you might want to consider being fair with him. Plus, her man’s here, and you know Sterling would never befoul your marriage—especially not for a twig like that.”

  “You’re right, Mary. She isn’t even pretty enough to be jealous of. But I’m not inviting her over. That’s up to you.”

  With far more important things on my mind, I allowed Mary to invite the wench to take a seat at my table. As Shannyn sat down on her lover’s lap, Mary gave me my knives back.

  Rory eyed them over. “I see you carry Black Hawke blades.”

  “That I do. Best ones I’ve ever used.” I stuck the beautifully hand crafted pieces back in my belt. “Sterling knows Jackson, the master blacksmith at Black Hawke Forge. We prefer to carry his steel when we can. But Sterling can’t seem to hold on to a piece for more than a month.” I jabbed him with a playful elbow.

  Brandishing his cutlass, Sterling looked over the solid piece. “Not true. I’ve had this one since we left Port Royal. And, Jackson Hawke is one of my friends, so you’re wrong about all sorts of shit tonight, woman.” He belched. “I got friends and I keep swords.”

  Rory pulled out his dagger. “Jackson Hawke is one of my friends as well, and he certainly makes a mighty fine weapon. Do you mind if I take a look at your blade, Sterling?”

  They traded weapons, and while they talked about the master blacksmith’s skills, I fantasized about Jackson Hawke. Remembering the sight of him hard at work in his fiery hot shop, my thoughts heated up with more than just the memory of the temperature. Jackson Hawke was one good looking fellow, and the beauty of his work made him all the more desirable.

  The night went on, drink after drink, and Mary passed the hookah around until the room was thick with smoke. A few men from the party on deck wandered in and out of our card game, and the sound of music drifted across the warm night air.

  As for our new crewmen, Lee Buckley had a boyish air about him, but since he’d lost his parents when he was nine—and had been sailing ever since—I figured he had to be tougher than he looked. Rory was quiet and serious, but the few things he did say were sarcastic and hilarious. Then there was Shannyn—who couldn’t seem to keep her hands or her lips off of her lover. Like Rory said, she was very loose with her affection, but since she hadn’t said another word to Sterling, and didn’t dare to look at me, I was hardly worried about her causing any more problems tonight. In fact, watching the way she carried on with the others, I found myself enjoying her company more than I wanted to.

  When Rory and Lee got up to take Shannyn back to town, Sterling stood as well. Yanking me up by the collar, he said, “Let’s see these dogs over to The Devil’s Dungeon. My father would rise from his grave and slap me upside the head if I left his mate’s daughter in Tortuga without a safe arrangement.”

  I didn’t like the way Shannyn smiled at his comment, but I was too drunk to react to it.

  “I’ll keep an eye on your castle, Bentley.” Flynn plopped his big body on the bed.

  “Thanks, mate.” Sterling saluted him. “But don’t dirty up my clean sheets. My maid just washed them.” He slapped my arse and shooed me out of the door.

  While rowing to town we sang silly drunken shantys. The walk through the streets of Tortuga was a hazy blur of laughter. I remember telling Rory I was glad he joined the crew. At one point I pinched Lee’s cheek and told him he was cute. I faintly remember telling Shannyn that I didn’t hate her after all, but I had no recollection of entering The Devil’s Dungeon. Yet, suddenly we were in Billy Barlow’s back office, where the man who was said to chop off the heads of his enemies was now hugging his daughter with tears streaming down his piggy fat cheeks.

  Uninterested in paying attention to their heartfelt reunion, I looked around at the décor. Amidst the fanciful fabrics and expensive furnishings, Billy had a human skull with a candle burning in it placed on his windowsill. Sink me! I was certainly glad I had not stabbed his daughter.

  Next thing I knew, me and Shannyn were following Sterling up the stairs that were roped off to the general public. Soon enough we were inside a beautiful room decorated like a king’s palace. I clearly remember lighting a cigarro, and faintly remember each of us showing off our tattoos, but anything after that was lost in the dark and warm puddle of rum I had all too much of.

  X

  “You are a terrible rotten person, Sterling Bentley!” I stormed down the stairs ahead of him. “I hate all of you filthy rotten pirates, and I am never drinking your heathen rum ever again.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Charlie. It doesn’t matter that much.”

  “Oh, it matters!” I pushed through the annoying crowd in the tavern. “I hate her and I hate you for letting me act like a slut while I was drunk last night.”

  “Ah, who am I to put a halt to the desires of the mighty Black Rose? You’re just as free as I am, remember?”

  Enraged by his infuriating answer, and sickened by my disgusting actions, I leaned over the waste bin outside the door and threw up. It was still damned dark out, I had no idea what time it was, and I felt like shit. As soon as I could speak again, I asked, “Who else was there?”

  “Just me.” He smiled like he was reliving the sinful memory.

  “You’re disgusting and I don’t like you anymore.” I stood up straight and wiped my watery eyes.

  Grabbing my shoulders, he backed me against the wall. “Listen. If we were well-mannered, well-behaved people, we’d be living a peaceful life ashore working at the market. But we’re not. We’re pirates and we’re living free, and last night we partied like devils. I’m sorry that you regret it, but it was fun while it lasted and none of it changes a thing between me and you.” He raised his brows. “If anything, I like you more now.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m still mad at you.”

  “Come on, Charlie, I was just as drunk as you were, and after swatting wenches off of me all night, I got caught up in the saucy moment. I’m sorry that—”

  I put my hand over his mouth. “Stop. Don’t even say it. What’s done is done and I am just glad I don’t remember all of it. Oh! I can use your line, If I don’t remember it, it didn’t happen.” I forced a happy smile.

  “Fair enough.” He put his arm over my shoulder and started walking me to the harbor. “None of it ever happened. Now back to work, Quartermaster.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain. The sea is ours to take.”

  “Maybe a nap will be ours to take soon, too.”

  PART III

  Burning Time & Bridges

  Chapter 7

  Special Place In Hell

  As Told By Sterling Bentley

  “What are you thinking about?” Charlie asked, snapping me out of my lustful trance.

  “Nothing.” I adjusted the tiller like I’d been focused on my work all along.

  “Nothing at all? I don’t believe you. I bet there are all kinds of interesting things going on in that big, fat head of yours. Plus, you look guilty as hell,” she said as he sat on a barrel.

  “I’m just watching this fog roll around,” I lied. She’d just get mad at me if I told her what I was truly thinking o
f.

  Silent for a moment, she looked into the clouds that had recently surrounded us. “Beautiful. I like the sounds, too. Listen to the way damp sails flap in the misty wind.”

  “Aye. Not being able to see around us intensifies the sounds. And if you listen close, every now and then you’ll hear Flynn’s big mouth barking orders at his men.”

  Just as I looked back at Endless Horizon, a layer of fog cleared around her masts, showing me her newly sewn sails. She vanished again by the time Charlie turned her head.

  “Oh, that’s funny. I think Faron’s volume rivals that of thunder.”

  “It’s funny, but it’s also helping me keep track of his ship’s position while I can’t see her. I try to pay attention to all that shit. It’s all relative to distance.”

  “And it’s things like that which make you an exceptional navigator. So how do you gauge our pace in the fog? Can you do any sort of navigating this way?”

  Opening my compass, I looked at the arrows. “A general direction is as good as it gets. If we had a destination, I’d be keeping a better watch according to speed and time, but we don’t have anywhere to be so we’re just drifting in a westward direction. In fact, if this shit don’t clear up soon, we might as well furl them up and get drunk while we wait for the sun.”

  “Since I am never drinking again, I hope the sun pops out soon. Plus, I want to use the backstaff again. I like knowing where we are and where we are headed. It’s crazy to think that I ever sailed without a clue about navigation.”

  “Most of these men have no idea about such things. If I was struck by lightning today you all might get lost and die out here. Well, Seminole Joe knows the stars better than I do, and now you’re getting a feel for the maps and measurements, so you might stand a chance without me.” I winked.

  “Oh, I doubt that. I like navigation but I don’t know near enough to do it alone.”

  “I bet you’d figure it out. See, even though my father was good at everything else he did, navigation drove him mad. And look at Flynn. That impatient lout puts up with all kinds of bullshit to keep a navigator on board. But you, you’re picking up on everything I’ve been teaching you, and it seems like you enjoy it. Hell, soon enough I’ll be able to lay back to take naps and read books while you run this kitty show.”

 

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