Pirates of Savannah: The Complete Trilogy - Colonial Historical Fiction Action Adventure (Pirates of Savannah (Adult Version))

by Tarrin P. Lupo

  The Vendetta sailed to the island chain in three days without incident and then began its overhaul and refitting. April was very particular about what she liked and started to modify the ship for extra speed. Two weeks had passed when a noise interrupted the work.

  The sounds of screams vibrated through the decking. Marian was not having a fast and easy delivery. Miss Bias threw open the door and yelled, “I need more water, quickly!” The dumbfounded group of men tripped over themselves scrambling up the stairs. The midwife laughed at their awkward scramble and then got back to work. Margie waited outside the door, ready to shuttle in the water. Miss Bias had delivered many babies and she knew how dangerous birth could be. Marian also knew the grim reality, too. The longer and more difficult the delivery, the less the chances the baby and she would survive.

  Many anxious hours passed until a baby's cry filled the air. As the strength of the new born increased, the mother’s strength decreased. The baby boy was placed in his mother’s arms as Miss Bias tried in vain to stop the massive blood loss oozing from her. Marian smiled as she stared down onto her new life, “Look how much he looks like Archibald! That will be his name.”

  She held her baby in her arms smiling as her life bled out from her. Heather was yelling at Miss Bias to save her, but the uterine bleeding could not be stopped. The crowd of women cried as Marian passed on. Heather picked up the tiny Archibald and held him while he was cleaned and dried off. Each person present said a prayer to whomever they prayed to, so as to protect baby Archibald from the islands’ curse they feared had struck down Marian.

  The crew did a traditional Scottish burial that mirrored her husband’s. Her body would be buried on the ‘Key Bone’ island so that her own bones would not join the rest of the skeletons scattered above ground.

  After Marian’s funeral, the group reminisced about her courage and kindness. William threw her the traditional Scottish funeral party and the dancing ensued. Fortunately, Margie was still breast feeding and took to the duty of wet-nursing the newborn.

  * * *

  Two more weeks had passed and life on the ship had returned to routine. They enjoyed exploring all the different islands of The Keys while they foraged for supplies. Audrey Scott was bursting with excitement and spent hours doing her own research at every spot they stopped at.

  A group of children prodded Margie into approaching April and asking her a question. “Captain, you know All Hallows Evening is approaching…the children want to know if we will be participating.”

  A cold wind blew in as the mood on the deck darkened. April turned to the kids hiding behind Margie’s legs and spoke to them directly, “I celebrate Samhain, not All Hallows Eve. Do you children know what that is?” The little ones shook their heads no. “The year is divided into two parts, a light half and a dark half. On October 31, the light half gets over taken by the dark half. On that night, time and space become muddied and the veil between life and death is at its thinnest. The living world and the dead world can mix together. It is rumored that the elders could do sacred rituals to make people swap worlds. The living would be transported and lost in the world of the dead, whereas the dead would come back and walk in the world of the living. You need to be extra careful you do not accidently invite a dead spirit onto our ship.”

  William interrupted and took his turn scaring the children, “To us Scots, that night is very frightening. Bogeys or Bogeymen come from the ghost world and will hide under your bed or tap on your window. On that night you must never cross a gate, stile, or a fence because the bogeymen are always hiding on the other side, waiting for you.”

  Sam cut in to keep April and William from continuing to terrify the children, “Why don’t we just celebrate a nice Christian’s holiday and go souling on November 2nd for All Souls’ Day.”

  Patrick questioned, “I never understood what knocking on strangers’ doors and begging them for soul cakes had to do with heaven.”

  “Well, we Catholics can get stuck in a place called purgatory. It is an empty holding land between hell and heaven. If your loved one gets trapped in there, the only way out is if they receive enough prayers,” Sam explained.

  “Oh I get it! So you bribe these beggar children with raisin spice cakes and in return they pray for your loved one’s soul to help them escape purgatory,” Patrick summarized.

  “Correct, you got it! Although I have to admit the church just took this holiday from the Roman pagan festival of Lemuria. They thought it would be an easier transition for pagans if they repackaged the All Hallows Day holiday and moved it from May 13th to November 1st. I thinks da church figured if they put it close enough to Samhain it would bleed the life out of the celebration. The church don’t like you knowing this history none and I got a swollen lip for asking a nun about it once”

  Patrick turned to the children. A cold wind blew back up and darkness grew around him, “I think these children should be more worried about keeping away Jack-O’-Lantern. Jack was such an awful evil soul that not even hell wanted him and the Devil sent him back to walk the Earth. The Devil took a burning ember from hell and gave it to Jack so he could search for souls at night. The only way to confuse Jack was to carve a turnip into a scary face and put a candle in it. I don’t think we have any turnips onboard but I saw we had a squash and a pumpkin that might work. If you could carve them and light them up, it will protect our barky.” The children grew excited about designing, carving, and illuminating the gourd.

  Shamus offered his thoughts, “I says ya skip this whole fookin’ spooky holiday and put all our fookin’ energy into celebratin’ hatin’ da British government. Let’s have a Guy Fawkes bonfire night on November 5th, dat is close enough to your creepy, goat-humpin’ holidays.”

  April spoke up, “Oh no, I just got this barky the way I like it. I won’t tolerate a bunch of children wearing masks, starting fires, and breaking the ship up!”

  Patrick interrupted, “I never understood what that holiday is all about. Someone tell me who Guy Fawkes is and why all the children burn and destroy the town on that night.”

  Shamus replied, “In 1609, a fookin’ Cath’lic rebel, Guy Fawkes wore a theater mask and tried to blow up da House of Lords wit thirty six g’damn kegs of gunpowder. Da angry British hung ‘em, drawn, and quartered ‘em, den dey threw da pieces of his body into a bonfire. E’ry fookin’ year after dat, da g’damn chil’ren of London half-mocked, half-hon’red him by taking to da streets and causin’ chaos. Dey wear masks, beg, parade, vandalize, and set fookin’ bonfires e’rywhere.”

  “So you want us to celebrate a pro-Catholic terrorist who dresses like a harlequin?” Patrick replied.

  “Yes, sorta, but you’re not allowed to fookin’ say it like dat! I want to celebrate his spirit of standing up against oppression.”

  Isaac interjected, “No, he didn’t stand up against oppression or the idea of tyranny. He wanted to supplant one tyrant with another, to remove the Protestant king with a Catholic king. I will not celebrate such an act.”

  “Fook you ya rat-dicked bastard! Dat man be a hero! Your tiny Jewish brain just be incapable of understanding tings like this,” the Irishman pouted.

  April stepped in front of the children and delivered her decision. “Keeping with the spirit of this ship, you children can celebrate anything you want as long as it does not harm someone’s liberty or their possessions. Enjoy yourselves!”

  The group continued debating over Guy Fawkes while the children ran off to find the pumpkin.

  * * *

  Sam Scurvy could barely steer Archibald’s Vendetta straight because he was so distracted. Mari Anna, Prudence and Heather looked lovely in the afternoon light as they passed the newborn back and forth. After a while, they handed Archibald back to Margie for feeding. He was then hypnotized as they combed each other’s hair. April slapped Sam on the back of the head and commanded, “Mind your wheel, sailor.”

  "Sorry Captain, but they be like sea sirens to me. I am falling under their song
. How do three women reach this age without being married already? I do not understand," Sam Scurvy pleaded.

  “Men are so thick in the head. Do you really not know, sailor?”

  “Captain, you have only known them a few weeks. What did they tell you?”

  “They did not tell me anything. It is as obvious as the wart on your nose, sailing master.”

  “I do not understand, what is so obvious? I must know what they are thinking so I can steal one’s heart, Arrrrrr.”

  “You fool. You are trying to sell a dog to a woman who prefers cats.”

  “I am so lost, which one of them is selling a dog?” Sam Scurvy was confused.

  “Christ, take a good look at them right now!”

  Sam surveyed the women. All three were standing side by side and Heather had both her arms around their waists. She slowly slid both hands down their buttocks and gave them a playful squeeze. Mari Anna and Prudence smiled and the three women squeezed closer together.

  “Oh. Oh...OH! You mean those lasses only like other ladies and the three of them are in love? Curse my luck! Ya know ya run the strangest barky in the world. I don’t think this ocean will ever see such a collection of oddities again. Great, now that baby has three mothers and I get go to bed again with swollen cherries!” Sam exclaimed shaking his head.

  She belted out a great laugh and nodded her head in agreement until her mind started to wander.

  Captain April Read quickly realized she was in trouble keeping both ships afloat and sailing the same direction. Since taking on Archibald’s Vendetta, both ships were horribly understaffed. The crew was exhausted from working double shifts for a week and she knew she had to find some extra hands. Not just any hands would do though. She only wanted a crew that would live under her philosophy of liberty. Where would I find such a crew, she thought.

  Everyone was at his or her breaking point; both crews needed sleep. The weather finally looked safe enough to drop anchor, allowing for everyone to get some much needed rest. The captain gave the order and within an hour, the only souls awake on either ship were the watchmen.

  The crew got a very long sleep in, including a day of relaxation on deck and on one of the Key islands.

  Patrick ran up topside of Archibald’s Vendetta and announced, “Look what someone left behind in the captain’s quarters!” He ran up to Isaac with a wooden box. “Sit down; we are going to have a game.”

  Isaac humored his excited friend and sat down. The wooden box opened up into a painted chess set with the wooden pieces stuffed underneath. Patrick beamed with a smile, “Now is your chance to finally beat me after all these years.”

  Isaac laughed, “I will part your pawns like Moses parted the Red Sea, old friend!”

  The men wasted no time getting started and after ten minutes, a large crowd gathered round.

  “Checkmate, Isaac. You really have to remember to watch the bishop pins. Who’s next?” challenged Patrick, to the crew.

  Sailor after sailor played and Patrick quickly and effortless destroyed them all. Shamus was cussing at Patrick accusing him of making up a move. “No really, Irishman. It is a real move called en passant. If you move your pawn to the fourth rank in one move and my pawn is one file over, but also on the fourth rank, I can slide behind your pawn on the third rank on your file and capture it,” Patrick explained. Shamus knocked the board over and stomped off, mumbling. April finally sat down and questioned, “I never did understand this game. Can you explain it to me?”

  “Chess is a war and each side is equally matched. The game is over when you capture the king.” He picked up the king and handed it to her. “But the funny thing is, your king is your weakest piece.”

  Chess King

  She smiled and asked the question she already knew the answer to, “Then what piece is the strongest?”

  Her husband smirked back at her, “That would be the queen, my love. She is the most dangerous piece on the board. The chess board is setup much the same as this ship, my wife,” he laughed.

  “So, husband, I did not know you had such a gift for strategy. Do you think you can apply that to pirating?”

  “I am excellent at chess by setting traps and swindles. Perhaps I could use the same philosophy and such and apply it to bigger pieces.”

  “Well, me wolf, I need you to find me a crew and soon.”

  Patrick sat back and pondered the question. “I do have an idea. It would take our weaknesses and turn them into our strengths!”

  “What a fine catch you were, husband,” April beamed at him. “Do explain.”

  * * *

  BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! The concussion of the cannons firing vibrated through the Robin’s deck.

  “Hurry up and raise the English Jack. Make sure they can see we are fellow countrymen. Garland, throw some more sand down so we don’t slip in all this blood on the deck,” April shouted orders over the ruckus of battle.

  The large Spanish vessel bared its cannons down on the Robin. BLAM! A large gray cloud hung between the two ships.

  Orders were shouted over the noise, “We have to head for that British slave ship. Sail us right up to her broadside.”

  The Robin swung her bow around and went full sail toward the English slave ship. The large pursuing Spanish vessel continued its merciless assault by cannon. The English slave ship turned and plotted a course dead through the battling ships. Seeing this, the Spanish vessel broke pursuit and started to flee.

  April pushed Sam’s lifeless body off the helm and took the wheel. She was closing too fast and ordered the wind be let off her sails. She looked across the deck and sadly spied Isaac and Patrick’s bodies also in a motionless, bloody heap.

  The English slave vessel was now in shouting range. The whores and children, covered with copious amounts of crimson, ran to the rail. “Please help us, help us! Spanish privateers murdered my husband!” a skinny woman named Carla shouted. A group of cackling women joined in and yelled to the vessel to stop.

  The slave ship captain surveyed the Robin’s bloody deck. He snapped shut his spy glass and ordered his crew to stop and help the women. In under a minute, grappling hooks tied the ships together and the slave ship’s crew dropped a gangplank between them. The hysterical women stormed across the wooden bridge and poured onto the deck. They threw their arms around the English sailors. “Thank you for saving us,” Miss Bleish said as she kissed a man on his cheek. The scullery wench Teresa shouted something in Greek or Italian and flung herself into the arms of a surprised officer.

  April ran over to the captain and hugged the man, “Thank you! They killed my husband!” A crooked smile came over the slave captain.

  “So you lasses be all alone. Hey, lads, these women be sailing all alone now. Let us go over and examine their ship to see if we can help!” His mind was already plotting. He flung the grieving woman to the deck, “Fuck it, lass I am going to help myself to your ship and then I am going to help myself to you. Crew, take their vessel!

  “Belay that order,” April yelled as she slid her knife up to the captain’s testicles. The women, who were hugging the crew, pulled their hidden knives and held them to the rescuers’ throats. “Nobody has to die. Just do as we say and we will let ya sail away.” April pressed the knife up hard against her capture's crotch as she stood back up.

  “Stand down, lads! Do what she commands!” the captain shouted in a panic.

  April let out a belting, high-pitched whistle and the deck of the Robin started to stir. The bloodied men rose from the dead and stormed the gangplank with pistols drawn and cutlasses in hand. The sight of the walking dead storming their deck terrified the slave ship’s crew. Patrick had four flintlocks tied around his neck, hanging down his chest. Isaac armed himself with the short blunderbuss jam packed with pig shot. Wooden bandoleers filled with pre-made wads of shot and powder hung across him, shoulder to waist. The men trained their guns on the rest of the slave ship’s crew.

  April shouted more orders, “Isaac, take Sam and fifteen
men and clear the cannons below deck.”

  “Aye, Captain!” the hulking man said as he began to gather his own war party.

  BLAM! Both ships shook as a hole opened on the side of the Robin. Smoke and shivers from the hull hung in the air.

  “Isaac, stop those cannons, now!” the captain ordered.

  Isaac’s party stormed down the stairs as screams of agony came from the new hole that was blasted into the Robin.

  When the men found the cannons, they noticed three men desperately loading for another shot. Isaac's party quickly overwhelmed the slavers and subdued them. “Men, search well and make sure there are no other souls manning a cannon!”

  By the time anyone noticed, it was too late. The large Spanish vessel took advantage of the situation and approached with their cannons trained on them. As they got broadside with the slave ship, they pulled their Spanish jack down. Mari Anna’s father yelled from the deck of Archibald’s Vendetta, “We heard cannon fire! We have you covered!” Some loud Scottish cursing could also be heard from a man in a kilt. Now that the ruse was over, the Vendetta loaded their cannons with balls rather than just powder charges.

  Isaac dragged the three gunners to the deck as he returned topside. “Just these three gunners, captain. No other cannons were manned.”

  “Tie them to the rail until we know what their judgment be,” the tattooed woman barked. The women stripped all of the sailors from the slave ship and took their weapons.

  Margie was an ex-whore turned brood-mare. She currently had nine children on the Robin and was wet-nursing Archibald. The mother ran across the gangplank screaming, “Murderers!” Her dress was so soaked with blood it was dripping a trail behind her as she ran. She was crying so loudly, April could barely understand what she was saying though the sobbing.

  “Did you say the cannon shot killed three of your children below deck?!”

  She hugged the balling Margie. “Come with me,” the captain mumbled stoically.

  Captain Read stood over the three men and demanded, “Which one of you gave the order to open fire on a vessel of women and children?”