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

by Cristi Taijeron

  In the following silence, Charlie twiddled her fingers—most certainly struggling to keep her mouth shut. Remington sat stiff as a board—staring at me without a lick of emotion in her gaze. And Lee, well, he just hung his red head in shame.

  As for me, visions from my past were swarming in my mind like a thousand wasps, stinging me to the soul. Amidst the blur, I saw the faces of the women my father knew, and with the sound of all their names echoing in my mind, I wondered which one of them was her mother. Mason Bentley had women all over the world, but generally kept his fancies between a favored few, and though plenty of them had begged him to stay, not a one of them ever announced the birth of his child. Considering the way he talked to me about family and the responsibilities of being a man, I knew he would have taken care of her had he known…Perhaps the wench never told him.

  “Who’s your mother?” I tapped my fingers on the table, scowling at her like she was the one to blame for robbing us of this information.

  Before she answered, Charlie said, “Hannah is her mother.”

  “What?” I choked, feeling suffocated by the weight of this load of bullshit. “How the hell do you know that?”

  “I remember her name because I loved it the moment I heard it at Lloyd’s house.” She looked at Remington for a moment, then gazed back at me with a ridiculously jolly grin. “That means you two are full blooded siblings. Oh my, Sterling, you have a sister and she looks just like you.”

  Feeling nowhere near as joyous about the matter as Charlie was, I continued with my interrogation. “Did he know about you?”

  “Not at first, no. Mason and Hannah parted while I was new in her womb, so neither of them knew of my existence at the time.”

  “Why did they part?” Charlie blurted. “I have been dying to know what truly happened between them.”

  Looking as uninterested in the tale as I was, Remington coldly responded, “That isn’t my story to tell.”

  Charlie’s shoulders slumped. “What is the matter with you people? Your lack of interest in this heart-wrenching story maddens me to no end!”

  Ignoring Charlie’s irritation over our ill-regard for our riddle-weaving parents, I went on to ask more about the girl I would now be responsible for. “Tell me what you know about my father and what he knows about you.”

  After a swig of rum, she answered, “I’ve heard tales about him and you on and off throughout my life, and though I was always captivated by your adventures, Mother didn’t tell me who you were until shortly after we moved to Port Royal. This was right around the time Mason had Jackson Hawke make you that ivory hilted sword.”

  Clearly remembering that sword—the honorable reason he gave it to me, and then the shameful way I lost it—I began comparing her story with the events of my life at the time.

  “Apparently, Mason and Midnight reunited during this visit, and she told him about me. Believe it or not, after all the hell Midnight’s secrets cast upon him, and us,” she pointed between me and her, reminding me that we had this strange situation in common, “he was going to take her back. It was his intention to settle down with her and to raise me, but I decided to leave for London as I had planned to prior to all that craziness. When I did, Mason came after me. While you were busy getting robbed by Holly the Whore from Hell and falling in love with Moriah, I was spending my time at Barlow’s with Mason.”

  At the sound of Moriah’s name, my rum-drunk heart heated.

  “Who the hell is Moriah?” Charlie snipped at me, snapping me out of my love-struck reverie. “I thought I was the only girl you ever loved.”

  Not at all interested in explaining how I loved Moriah, too, but not enough to stay with her, I used the line Charlie shunned me with earlier to swat her off the subject. “Keep your petty agitations to yourself, Black Rose. We have bigger things to deal with here. Like the fact that my father was romancing my tricky little mother behind my back and betrayed me by not telling me I had a sister.”

  Charlie grabbed my hand. “This is serious, Sterling. Why in the world would he have kept this from you?”

  Annoyed as could be, I yanked my hand away. “Shit, I don’t know.” Then I remembered how he never spoke of his failures. Something must have gone terribly wrong.

  Darting my gaze back to Remington, I asked, “So what happened with this absurd little fantasy? How did everything end up falling apart?”

  “I am unsure of the details but am certain the burning of Lloyd Wilshire’s mansion had something to do with the collapse of the absurd little fantasy.”

  Blow me down. She was right. Everything this girl was saying made sense. Mason had been acting mighty strange during that last week in Port Royal. Distant and blurry eyed, he’d been staring into space, looking all confused and annoyed in a way I’d never seen before. Then Wilshire Willows West went up in flames. He was a different man thereafter.

  Overwhelmed by the mass of secrets that were unraveling, I let out a delirious chuckle.

  Charlie took my pause as a moment to run her mouth. “So what was it like getting to know Mason, Remington?”

  She smiled. “Unforgettable. The two short weeks I spent with that man changed my life forever.”

  Thinking how these past ten minutes had changed my life forever, I became more and more angry with Mason for not telling me about her. Had I known I had a little sister I would have searched for her long ago. “Ah, I could slap his ol’ ghost for keeping you a secret.” I lit a cigarro, hoping the smoke would help to ease my weary nerves.

  Fiddling with the locket she was wearing, Remington said, “I don’t think he’s a ghost, Sterling. At least up to last summer he wasn’t.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” It upset me greatly to think this young girl, who had only met him once, knew more about his mysterious fate than I did.

  She took a deep breath. “I spent some time with a Portuguese pirate crew and one of the galley slaves we freed from a Spanish merchantman told me there was a Mason Bentley living among his people in Panama. Me and the captain I was sailing with at the time went after him.”

  “What did you find?” Charlie yelped in suspense.

  “I found that our father had been there. Apparently, he was left for dead after a failed land invasion, and one of the villagers dragged him back to their tribe where the healer helped him to recover. He worked on their farm a while to repay the debt, but—as my bad luck would have it—he had left for the sea only a couple of months before I arrived.”

  Unable to wrap my mind around this shit, I shook my head. “So you’re trying to tell me that my father not only lived the day I thought he died, but that he took up a pleasant life among farmers in a cute little jungle village afterwards? Bullshit. You’re just as twisted as that mother of yours.”

  “Stop it, Sterling.” Charlie slapped my arm. “Hannah is your mother, too, like it or not, and this is a rather likely tale about your father.”

  Charlie went on to tell me about Marty’s uncle and all sorts of other hopeful nonsense, but before I could shit on the jolly picture she was painting, Remington did. “There isn’t a damn happy thing to be said about this. The fact that he lived and somehow made it to that village may be cute and all, but it’s disheartening to know he made a home with a raven-haired witch who is no older than me, when he had promised to come back for me.”

  “Disheartening to say the least,” I huffed, thinking back on all the nightmares I’d endured while he was lounging around in the jungles of Panama…Wait a minute. What the hell was I doing entertaining this crazy idea? Slowly exhaling my smoke, I said to the corrupt little story teller, “I don’t believe you.”

  “Why not, Sterling?” Charlie asked me.

  “Because I don’t have time to get giddy over news relayed by a one-eyed drunk man and the spawn of the treasonous Midnight. Perhaps this sneaky little pixie and I carry the same blood, but our lives are completely different, and I don’t trust her no more than a stranger. Maybe even less, being how Hannah, the w
oman who abandoned me and broke my father’s heart—over and over—raised her, alongside Lloyd Wilshire, the man who has hired a pirate hunter to drag me back to his dungeon. Remember all that? I have more important things on my mind than the unraveling of some bullshit family secrets.”

  Without regard for the way I was bashing her character, Remington reached inside her pocket and pulled out a book. “Maybe you’ll believe this.”

  The moment I set sight on the cover, my eyes widened in disbelief. It was my father’s journal. The stained leather was raised into a cross shape on the front cover, and there, next to the brass lock, were the words I clearly remembered him inscribing:

  King Of My Nightmare

  “How did you get this?” I snatched it away from her like she wasn’t worthy of the precious relic.

  She rolled her eyes. “His little Panamanian lady love kept it in the hut he built for her.”

  “Lies. All lies. Now, I’ve got work to do and a deadline to meet, so I’m going to drop you off at The Devil’s Dungeon where you’ll remain under Barlow’s watch until I return. We’ll deal with the rest later.” I stood up and started shooing her out of the room.

  “I’m not staying at that shithole place,” she disputed as I pushed her along.

  “You’ll do whatever the hell I tell you to do.” Holding my hand on the doorknob, I whispered, “Listen here, sweetheart. That father of ours would beat me with a shovel if’n I took you with me to do what I’ll be doing next. Like it or not, you’re my responsibility now and I’ll be deciding your fate until we find out more about this so-stated resurrection of Mason Bentley. And if he is alive, I’ll be more than happy to pass your nattering arse over to him.”

  Standing still in the doorway, she glowered at me. “This is not the first time I have sailed with pirates. I know the code and I will respect you as the captain of this ship. But don’t think for a second that you’ll be telling me what to do once we get to shore. I take care of myself just fine.”

  I pointed at her face. “We can argue about that once we arrive. But for now, you can take your rest in Charlie’s cabin, and either she, me, or Buckley will be watching you like a hawk.” I glared at Buckley. “You’ll be taking the first watch.”

  Remington shot an awfully hateful look in my direction as she made her exit. Her mad face was identical to my father’s—to our father’s. Shit. This was too much. Shaking my shoulders loose of the eerie chill her expression left settled upon them, I headed back to the table, where the journal lay.

  Charlie tried to grab it. I slapped her hand away. “No. He always kept it locked and locked it will stay.”

  She rolled her head back. “You are infuriating. How can you not want to know what it says in there?”

  “What’s in there doesn’t matter. None of this changes the course we are on.”

  Charlie huffed. “All right, Mister Denial. So, what do you think about your sister?”

  “Well, she was, uh, I don’t know, kind of a…bitch?”

  “Ha! She was. I like that about her, though. Plus, her smart mouth and lack of emotion reminds me of you.”

  I raised one brow.

  She winked, then puffed out her cigarro smoke in o shapes. “I can’t believe that just happened. Your family is a mess, but now I am even more intrigued by them. I’m going to make friends with Remington Rain and get her to tell me more about Hannah.”

  “Aye, you’ll have plenty of time to make friendly while sharing that bunkroom.” I stretched out my arms and yawned. “I’m tired, Charlie. And not just, I need to lie down and go to sleep tired, but good God my life is a wreck and I don’t know what to do about it, tired.”

  She walked to my side of the table and took my hand. “I think you should lie down for a while. It’s been a shit cake of a day and you were up all night.” Walking me towards the bed, she started unbuttoning my waistcoat. “Let me rub your back.”

  “Yes. I love that idea.” I tore off my shirt and fell face first onto the mattress.

  As she removed my shoes, I started daydreaming about the things she could do that involved more than a back rub.

  Then my damned door flew open.

  It was the carpenters. Inappropriate Jon darted a curious glare between us before he said, “We’re fixing our ship now.”

  I chuckled. “Do whatever the hell you want. And if you have questions, bring them up with the mighty Rose of Death, for her cabin boy is taking his nap.”

  PART IV

  Gunpowder & Gold

  Chapter 10

  Drinking With A Ghost

  As Told By Sterling Bentley

  Written by Sterling Bentley:

  March 10th 1669

  Tortuga. My favorite hellhole in the world. Here, there’s no law to run from, I’m armed and ready to take on that blasted pirate hunter if he dares to show his face, and I’ve made arrangements for my nattering little sister. Though she hasn’t said a word to me or Charlie since I got her a room at The Devil’s Dungeon, I feel better knowing she’ll be in good hands while we are away. For the first time in months, my life is on course and I may as well celebrate the rare moment of peace while it lasts.

  B

  Written by Charlotte Bentley :

  March 11th 1669

  I have just returned from a visit with Mercy. Since the loot I’d left for her helped her stay off the streets, she was more than happy to let me in, and she even made me lunch. While we sat for tea, I got to experience the marvelous sight of her daughter taking her first steps!

  This simple but awe-inspiring occurrence reminded me that we all were once tiny babies who couldn’t even walk or talk—which led me to think about my father. He often referenced his memory of the day I took my first steps towards his waiting arms. Oh bother. Just thinking of how much he loved me has my eyes filling with tears. Though my care was mostly met by the hands of our servants, my father was always there when I needed him. I can clearly remember him smiling at me, I can almost hear the kind words he often complimented me with, and I will always cherish the memory of holding his big hand as we walked the garden together. He loved me so much. I never knew my mother, but between the love of my father and my brothers I never felt I was missing a thing.

  All these thoughts about my family have me thinking about the baby Isaiah and his lovely wife Izella are expecting. Boy or girl, the newest member of my family should be born any day now. I hope that somehow, someday, I will be able to see them all again.

  Charlotte Bentley

  X

  Walking into the barroom at The Devil’s Dungeon, Charlie whispered in my ear, “Do you realize what today is, my love?”

  Scratching my head, I hummed, “Should I know?”

  “Yes, it would be nice if you remembered that this is our anniversary.”

  “Oh, shit. It is. I can’t believe you’ve been making a mad man of me for an entire year now.”

  “By marriage anyhow,” she giggled. “I say we celebrate by first drinking ourselves blind and then later we should have sex on every tabletop in our room.”

  “I like it.” I took a shot of rum. “And being how my vision is already getting blurry, I’m thinking sex isn’t too far away.”

  The moment we sat down on our barstools, Shannyn came running in my direction. Yelping my name happily, she threw her skinny arms around my neck. “It’s good to see you again so soon.”

  “Aye, good to see you, too, sweetheart.” I hugged her.

  Charlie swatted Shannyn’s hands off of me. “I’ll cut that sweet heart out of your bony chest, dip it in my rum, and eat it like a pastry if you don’t get your tentacles off my man.”

  Shannyn backed away and wrinkled her nose as if Charlie smelled bad. “Why the hell are you so mad? I thought we were friends now.”

  “I’d say our level of friendship lies somewhere between me enjoying your company when I am drunk, and not quite feeling the need to kill you when I am sober. And I have had only one glass of rum so far.”

&nbs
p; Before the mood could worsen between them, I shooed Shannyn away.

  As she went back to the table she’d been cleaning, Charlie sneered, “I don’t like her.”

  “I noticed.” I chuckled.

  “She wants to be much more than your friend, Sterling. And I reckon the only reason she wants to get along with me is to get closer to you.”

  “I don’t care what she wants. I just want you, and if you’ll remember, we have very important plans for this evening.” I raised my glass to cheer with hers.

  Luckily, she agreed to forget about it.

  One drink after another, we talked and laughed like we were the only ones in that shitty barroom until we agreed it was time to go. Standing up, I realized just how drunk I was. While contemplating the distance to the door, I saw a few men scampering away from their seats. Curious as to what the fuss was about, I kept my eye on the scene. In the scattering men’s wake, I laid my blurry eyes on the man they fled.

  Black James Reid.

  Though his long, black hair had gone grey and his suntanned skin had weathered, his dark eyes were as daunting as the last time they had pierced my gaze. Sobered by the memories his image sent flashing through my mind, my suddenly clear and vivid thoughts shifted back to the day I had last seen his bearded face.

  We’d come ashore miles from Portobello Panama, so as not to be seen under the cover of darkness. Sneaking up on the fort with a surprise attack, we began slaughtering the unprepared Spanish guards. We buccaneers were far outnumbered, but our fight was fiercely violent.

  The sounds of explosions, growling men raging in war, and screaming women trying to protect their crying children, rang in my ears. Fire and flying body parts blurred my vision. Sulfur suffocated my lungs and blood coated my body like the sweat that burst from my pores. I’d fought plenty of sea battles, but we’d always had the advantage. The upper hand was continuously ours. But not then. Not that time. That day, the fear of losing my own life had been more prevalent than ever. My mates were falling around me. It was hard to tell if the pain I carried and the blood I wore was theirs or mine, but the weight of it all was hardly bearable. All I could do was keep fighting, keep killing, and stay on my feet as those I knew as friends fell to their deaths beside me.