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

by Cristi Taijeron

  “Poppycock. There will be no such laziness aboard my deck. I’ll keep you plenty busy as my little cabin boy.” She licked her pretty lips—sending my mind right back to the dirty thoughts I was enjoying before she showed up.

  My jolly daydreams were cut short when a dangerously serious look overtook her playful expression. Seeming reluctant, she stuttered, “I know it’s not, well…I know you don’t like to talk about your mother, and you’ve made it clear that you have no interest in hearing about the things she told me when I met her, but I have been dying to tell you this one thing.”

  Not at all interested in what she had to say, I said, “I especially don’t want to hear about her now that she got us all tangled up in her messy web of madness.”

  Without concern for my distaste in the subject, Charlie blurted, “Hannah was a navigator, Sterling. Did you know that?”

  Finding myself surprised by the news, I perked up. “Oh. Well, that catches my interest. And no. I didn’t know that. My father never mentioned it.”

  “Sheesh, it is so annoying that he didn’t tell you anything about her.” Charlie shook her head. “She told me your father inspired her to use her artistic talent to chart the seas. I guess she was pretty good at it, too. I promised not to share this information—so don’t go running your mouth about it—but she marked her maps with a feather and a crescent moon—”

  “No shit?” I interrupted. “Ha! My mother was the Midnight Feather, huh?”

  “You’ve heard of her?”

  Thinking back on the things I knew about Midnight, the mysterious artist of the seas, I laughed. “Sink me, Charlie, you’re going to love this. My father had some maps done by her, but he told me the artist was a man named Midnight who was banished for treason. In fact, that’s how I learned what treason meant. But those maps, ah, I used to stare at them day and night. They were my favorite ones in his rutter because Midnight drew much more than just the features used for measurement. She added the leaves of the trees, the birds in the air, and even the waves lapping the shore. Those maps were masterpieces. Each one of them.”

  “That is amazing, Sterling. Even though you don’t remember your mother, she did play a part in making you the man you are.”

  Still uninterested in accrediting that woman for anything, I said, “I can’t believe the old man tricked me like that. I wonder what the hell other secrets he was keeping.”

  As we talked on about other things, I enjoyed the sight of warm golden sunlight burning through the grey haze. Off the portside, the bright blue sky was now in plain sight, but Endless Horizon remained hidden within the fog behind us. The path ahead still looked bleak, and with no true direction in mind I figured I’d switch our course to the sunlit south.

  Just before I shouted out my command, Rolland announced the sight of sails.

  With the excited men rushing towards the starboard bow, I pulled out my spyglass to take a better look. The surrounding wall of fog had thinned greatly and remaining puffs of morning mist were blowing around like the seeds of a dandelion drifting across a field. Catching sight of three masts, I watched closely as the clouds around her dissipated, revealing a slow and heavy merchantman similar to the shell of an oyster lifting to reveal a pearl.

  The crowd hooted and roared with colorful comments about their interest in taking the prize at hand, but I couldn’t get myself to join their happy shouts. It was so instilled in my being to stay away from plundering English merchants that I attempted to talk them out of it. There was no use. All but my one vote said to take her. So take her we would.

  Their rowdy shouts filled the sails like the wind that was blowing in our favor. Knowing we were close enough to avoid the annoyance of presenting false images, I said, “Draw on every rag of canvas the yards will hold and raise the black!”

  Holding my hat in place as the winds picked up, I watched in delight as my wicked rose Jolly Roger lifted in the wind. I’d never grow weary of that sight.

  Looking ahead, I saw a ray of light shining on the sea between us and our pearl. Ahead of her and behind us, the wall of fog remained thick as night. As soon as she saw our colors she clapped on more sail. She was attempting to take shelter in the haze. But with our ravenous sailors gaining the best of the wind, and our slick keel slicing the rolling tide, the fleeing merchantman wouldn’t stand a chance.

  Or would she? Abilene was surprisingly swift. Her sailors were orchestrating a degree of sailing so masterful that I began to wonder if she wasn’t waving the King’s flag as a ploy of her own.

  Drawing near, the weather darkened around us. Thick and misty, the clouds cooled the sweat coating my body as we guided our bitch over the wake Abilene left behind. Endless Horizon was still lost in the fog when Copper fired a warning shot from his precious swivel gun, Anna. Endless was still nowhere in sight when Abilene fired a fearless and eager response. I hadn’t started this chase looking for war, but it looked like we were in for one. With or without our consort.

  “Her goods must be worth fighting for,” I shouted over the roars of my crewmen who were already preparing for battle.

  Still wanting to keep her assumedly valuable goods intact, I ordered the gunners to ready a round of chain shot.

  Coming alongside Abilene’s starboard, the gunners fired, sending the chain linked balls slicing through the air. The powerful blast was quickly followed by the sound of canvas and rigging being torn apart.

  “Again!” I hollered as I fought with the tiller to keep her steady on the tumbling tide.

  Before my gunners had a chance to reload, the bitch who was now struggling to run fired a goddamned broadside of her own!

  The volcanic explosion busted through our clean hull, sending shards and splinters, and surely pieces of my men, flying about. My blood rushed with a rage akin to the power of that blast. Over the grueling groans of my injured men, I shouted for the gunners to bust her to bits. The fact that only three guns fired assured me that the damage below was detrimental.

  Through the dreadful cloud of sulfur I saw Endless Horizon coming up on Abilene’s starboard. Flynn’s flag—the one I had painted a year ago—flew high over his deck. The patched and tattered fabric seemed to roar with threat alongside Flynn’s blood-hungry crew. Firing a warning shot at the once beautiful Abilene, Endless Horizon assured the brazen merchantmen that they had lost the war they never should have started.

  The sight of Abilene’s white flag rising in the smoky air annoyed me more than anything. They should have done that long before anyone had to die.

  As quickly as the wind had blown us towards this tricky little oyster, my men strapped her with our grappling hooks.

  “Where are all of our men? Was anyone hit?” I asked Charlie while securing the lines.

  Through her shortness of breath, she relayed the report. “They’re busted up down below! I don’t yet know who’s dead and who’s dying, but they’re a splintered, bloody mess. All I know for sure so far is that Pie-Eyed Pete took a shard to the eye. His good eye! Poor old bloke will be blind as a mouse now. What the hell’s wrong with them? I want to go over there and gouge some of their eyes out for making this so damn difficult.”

  Grabbing her shoulders, I looked into her eyes “They’ve surrendered, Charlie. No more bloodshed unless they act up.”

  She nodded to agree.

  Letting her go, I grinned. “Plus, you know I respect a fighter far more than a coward. I just might leave their captain a little loot of his own for putting up a good defense.”

  Looking towards Endless Horizon, I saw Flynn hopping up on the gunnel. He shouted across the deck of the merchantman. “Thanks for doing the hard work, Bentley.”

  “Anytime. I didn’t want you to get your pretty face dirty or anything.”

  “I owe you one. Give me the word to board her.”

  With Rolland tending the injured, and Inappropriate Jon mending the damaged hull, Charlie and I led our men over the gangway. I signaled Flynn to follow suit.

  While my men
cleared the surrendered of their weapons and gathered up the injured merchantmen, I spoke to the tall, raven-haired man in the blue coat. “From the look of things, I’ll assume you’re the captain of this fine vessel.”

  He nodded. “Raymond Hayes is the name.”

  Nearly twice my age, Raymond Hayes was fit and well kept. A dark braid hung over his broad shoulder and a long, black beard grew from his sun-weathered, gunpowder-coated face. Every damned thing about him reminded me of my father.

  Instantly taking a liking to the fellow, I said, “I admire the skill you sail with and I commend the bravery you fight with, but in case you haven’t heard, these types of raids go much better for everyone if you stand down and let us take what we need.”

  “For one, I wouldn’t have been hired to take on the mission you rudely interrupted had I been the type to stand down. Secondly, everything I heard about the witch and the wench running this Wicked Rose led me to believe she would stand down from a crew willing to fight. But had I known the notorious Sterling Bentley was now in command of this villainous ship—with Faron Flynn following behind in the fog—we might not be discussing these matters over my good men’s dead bodies.” He glared at an arm which had been torn from its body by our gunfire.

  “Well, now you know.” I winced at the arm myself. “And to set the record straight, this wench of mine killed that wench and set the witch free. I’m the captain now and you’re but our second prize for the taking since all that went down in the books. So next time someone asks, you can tell them you heard the truth from the wanted man who watched it all happen.”

  “Well, wouldn’t your father be proud,” he sarcastically huffed.

  “You knew my father?” I stepped closer to him.

  “Believe it or not, I sailed with Mason Bentley when you were but a wee little one. It was only for a trip to Barbados and back, but I haven’t forgotten the things he taught me, or the lump of gold he gave me for keeping you calm each time the thunder struck.”

  “Shhh. Hush it.” I sliced my hand through the air. No one needed to know that I used to cry like a wee baby girl every time the heavens rumbled. But the fact that he knew such a thing assured me that his relation to my father was true. And that annoyed me.

  “You were afraid of the thunder?” Charlie snickered.

  “No,” I lied and looked around again to be sure no one was hearing any of this.

  Glad to see my mates were plenty busy with the surrendered and the injured, I looked back at Raymond. “It would be my shitten luck that the first English merchant I take would be captained by one of my father’s mates. See, this isn’t my usual way of doing things, but after being wrongly accused of a crime I didn’t commit, I’ve been pressed into a new line of business. So if’n you don’t mind, I’m going to go ahead and get to taking you for all you’re worth—”

  “Wait.” He lowered his voice. “I need to tell you something about my cargo.”

  “What is it?” The seriousness of his expression concerned me.

  “Governor Morgan picked me personally to sail his daughters, Lydia and Leah, to Jamaica where Leah’s husband-to-be awaits her safe arrival.” He nodded towards the short, fat, wig-wearing old man in the lineup of surrendered men. “Lydia’s husband is their escort and the women are hiding away right now.”

  “What!?” I shouted so loudly that all the men working on deck stopped and stared at me.

  Charlie waved at them. “Back to work, you nosy ol’ grandmothers.” Then she returned her gaze to Raymond and continued in the same whispered tone he’d used, “Where are they?”

  Before answering, he looked at me with desperation showing in the depths of his dark brown eyes. “Honestly, I don’t care if you take every last bit of money and furniture I’m hauling, but the reason I fought you was to protect those women. Though I had nearly lost all faith when I found myself surrounded by two notorious pirate ships, I can only hope that you, being Mason Bentley’s son, will protect those women as well as he would.”

  “That I will, sir, and considering the fact that my father trusted you enough to leave me with you when I was young, I’ll go ahead and command my men to leave your cabin alone.”

  “Thank you.” He nodded. “That is where the women are hiding.”

  Charlie and Marty went off to the captain’s cabin. Before joining them I went to talk to Flynn about what was going on. Upon hearing the news, Flynn lowered his face in his hand and laughed. “Shit, Bentley. You sure know how to pick them.”

  I shoved his shoulder. “Aye. It’s bad enough that I have all these women to deal with, so I don’t need you bantering in my ear like another one.”

  Patting me on the back, Faron said, “All right, all right. Why don’t you go have a sip of tea with the lassies while I manage the raid.”

  Knowing there’d be no better man to take my place below deck, I shook his hand. “Thanks, mate. I’ll throw in an extra lump of sugar for you.”

  With Faron commanding both of our crews, I called for the older daughter’s husband to join me.

  Shoving my gun against his back, I nudged him towards the cabin. “Get on your way, fat boy.”

  “Boy!” He snapped. “I am Lord Abbott Thatcher, one of the richest men in London. Soon to grace Port Royal with my honorable presence.”

  Uninterested in his lofty introduction, I kept to myself as we walked along. Nearing the captain’s cabin, I heard an unearthly wail humming through the halls. “What the hell is that?”

  The old man’s body shook under my gun barrel. “Not now. No. This is terrible. My wife’s younger sister, Leah, is having a baby in there.”

  “A baby?!” I shrieked. How the hell much worse could this get?

  Grumbling under my breath about my shitten luck, I realized I’d never been anywhere near a laboring woman. Thoughts of what I might see made me think I should wait outside the door. My troubled feelings deepened when Thatcher asked me, “Are you going to kill her?”

  “No. God, no. Why the hell would I do that?”

  “Well, if you want to, I’ll pay you very well to do so.”

  Stunned by his words, I stopped in front of the partially opened door and wondered if he had lost his mind.

  Straightening his wig, he blustered, “Blast it all! That child she’s birthing is mine, but Governor Morgan will have me beheaded if he finds I have soiled his youngest. He had big plans for her marriage, and her future husband is awaiting her in Port Royal.” With his hands pressed together, he pleaded, “You know everyone doesn’t survive during childbirth. If they fail to make it I can assure you the pay will be worth the trouble.”

  “They will survive,” Charlie growled as she pushed the door open. Her expression was dangerously hateful and her hand was on the hilt of her cutlass. “And the only money of yours we want is what we will be robbing you of today.”

  While I attempted to step between her and Thatcher, he tried to barge past me. Holding my arm out to halt his stride, I ended up inside the room I had not wanted to enter, and hearing Leah let out a god-awful wail, my eyes landed on a sight I would never be able to unsee. Leah, the absurdly young blonde girl, was lying on her sister’s lap. Lydia, also young and blonde, was stroking her sister’s sweaty wet hair, and Marty was kneeling between Leah’s open legs. The mortifying sight of a gigantic, hairy head tearing its way out of the place I normally desired, sickened me to the point of weakness. Though it was my greatest want to turn and flee, my feet failed me and I leaned over and threw up all over the floor.

  Helplessly heaving up my breakfast, with my hands on my knees, I tried to keep aware of everything going on around me. Apparently the baby wasn’t out yet because Leah was still screeching in anguish. Marty was encouraging her to keep pushing. Charlie was telling Thatcher he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere near the woman who he tried to pay to have killed, and Thatcher was barking at her as she tried to block him. “You will not stand in my way, pirate girl! I am Lord Abbott Thatcher and I will have you stripped bare a
nd flogged before a crowd for this act of disrespect. Once you are a welted mess of shame and anguish, I will see to it that you are hanged and tarred and placed in a gibbet for the entire world to see what happens when a pox-ridden pirate slut tampers with a lord of my stature.”

  From the corner of my watery eyes I saw Charlie shove him. “I don’t give a shit about your social status ashore. Here, under my black flag, I’m the goddamn queen and you aren’t anything but a pauper that I’ll squash as quickly as a fly.” She drew her sword. “Stand down or die, rich boy. What will it be?”

  Considering his plans for Leah, and the threats he’d hissed at my wife, I knew he was going to have to die today, but Charlie couldn’t be the one to do it. Knowing I had to stop her, I spit out the last of my bile and stood up just in time to see Thatcher push his way past her. While he shouted that he would take care of Leah himself, Charlie thrust her sword through his gut. No! Watching my Black Rose twist her blade amidst the nobleman’s organs—like his plump abdomen was nothing more than a watermelon—I felt my jaw fall agape. The moment was lost. She had done it. He gurgled and groaned until she pulled the blade upward, tearing him open and closing his mouth for good. Lord Abbott Thatcher would not be returning to Port Royal to report these crimes.

  Watching the dead man fall to the floor, and hearing Lydia screaming at Charlie for killing her husband, while Leah screeched in pain as she pushed that damn baby out, I knew this problem was far from solved.

  With chaos filling the room, my thoughts came to a halt when Leah expelled a primitive groan. Out of instinct I looked towards the source of the sound, but fully regretted it again when I saw the slimy, curd-covered little bugger come slipping out and into Marty’s hands. As per Marty’s directions, Charlie cut the nasty cord that connected the baby to its mother, then grabbed the rag and washbasin from the table and washed the little pink, screaming thing.