King of My Nightmare (King of My Nightmare, Book 1): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories

by Cristi Taijeron

  I kissed my hand, and planted my palm on the top of her cross. Looking heavenward, I eyed the puffy clouds rolling across the blue sky and slowly inhaled a breath of crisp spring air. When two birds flew overhead, playfully nipping at each other as they passed, I thought of how Lace and I played together when we were young. Remembering how it felt to be happy and carefree, I decided that I would enjoy every bit of the life I had left in her honor.

  Heading out of the yard, I saw Vera waiting for me by the gate. As I drew near, she whistled. “Looking good, farmer.”

  “It’s blacksmith to you, beauty.” I winked.

  She bought me that burgundy and gold coat and matching waistcoat I’d been gawking over at the market, and while running her hands down the wide collar she said, “You are a man of many talents, Mason Bentley, and I know you will prosper in everything you do.”

  While stroking the goatee I was attempting to grow, I said, “I hope so. I like wearing these nice clothes and I’d like to get another set.”

  “You will. I know it.” Interlacing her fingers with mine, she tickled the short, bristly hairs. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you are even more handsome with facial hair. Seeing you with these nice clothes on, the wenches in Bristol are going to plow you down before you ever reach the harbor.”

  Smiling at her compliment, and standing there by the gate with the cool spring breeze blowing through the fields, I thought about how I did not want our time together to end. But daylight was burning fast and I needed every bit of it along my hike. Lifting her hand to my mouth, I kissed her knuckles. “Thanks for all you taught me and all you gave me, and well, just thanks for everything. I’ll never forget you.”

  She sighed, “It was my pleasure, Mason. I learned a lot from you, too. I especially appreciate you teaching me to write and I will think of you every night when I read to my mother.”

  Loving the way she was smiling at me, I moved a fly away hair behind her ear and said, “Ah, Vera, when you look at me that way, I start thinking I should just stay here.”

  “Nonsense.” She tickled my goatee. “You know as well as I that your spirit is too big for this little town. Though I’ll miss your hard working hands in my workshop and your saucy body in my bed, I know the world holds better things for you than steel and soot.” She then quoted her favorite Bible verse, “Now, take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, and be on your way, handsome.”

  Tapping the hilt of the sword that she and I made together, I said, “All right. But I’ll be back one day, I will.”

  She threw her arms around my neck and squeezed me tight. “I’ll be looking forward to that visit, and until then, I will tend to your sisters grave as well as you have been.”

  “Thank you, Vera,” I said, then I kissed her one last time. Feeling the cool wind on my cheeks and the heat of her lips on mine, I thought about how much she meant to me. She had been my girl for almost a year now, but more than that, she was my friend and I trusted her to care for the one thing that mattered most to me while I was away. If I was at all interested in settling down, Vera Smith might have been the one to do it with, but I wasn’t. Like she said, the world held bigger things for me and I was about to find out what they were.

  X

  The journey to Bristol was surprisingly relaxing. Losing my thoughts in the sounds of the forest, I drifted through the trees no differently than the leaves blowing on the breeze. Hunting and gathering was much easier with my array of weapons, and though I felt guilty for thinking it, there was no denying how much easier it was to care only for myself. But that’s how it would be from now on, and I was ready for it.

  Leaving the past behind me, I set sight on the town of Bristol with a hopeful frame of mind. Heading through the streets of town, I wondered what this place might have to offer. While eyeing the people bustling in the streets, walking in and out of the houses and stores, I wondered what I might learn from them. But most importantly, when I came upon the harbor walk, I wondered where the River Avon might lead me.

  The tall ships in the harbor had always caught my interest as a child, but Grandfather insisted that I had no business sailing away from the family fields—so I never put much thought into their existence beyond the way they looked in the bay. But now, being free to go where I wished, without fretting over family ties or responsibilities ashore, I began wondering what it would be like standing beneath the full sails, with the wind at my back and the wide open seas before me. Spotting out a few sailors climbing the hempen ladders, I thought of how high they went, and watching the wooden hulls bobbing on the tide, I wondered how in the world the sailors kept their footing way up there on those moving beams. Soon enough I would find out. But not today. Before I went anywhere, I wanted to pay a visit to Nathan Huxley.

  Enjoying every moment of my walk, it seemed like no time at all had passed once I came upon his place. The two-story corner building facing the harbor was made of stone at the base but the second floor was made of wood. Since most of the green shutters were open, I could see the lacy curtains blowing in the light breeze. Just above the large veranda doors at the corner entrance, hung the sign that I had seen many times, but this time I could read the words burned into the wood. Stonehouse Inn.

  Preparing to face the memories that would surely threaten to knock me off my feet upon my entrance, I took a deep breath and headed inside.

  As expected, I was greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of the place. The large bay windows to my left were open, allowing a light breeze to cool the smoky air—the scent of tobacco reminded me of my grandfather. A man was playing the violin on the small stage in front of the windows while the tables to my right and the long, wooden bar straight ahead were lined with drunken, pipe smoking sailors. The sight of them reminded me of how I used to stand near my grandfather to listen in on the conversations he had with them about their adventures at sea. But the strongest memory of all was triggered by the massive stone fireplace burning warmly on the back wall near the staircase on my right. Lace loved sitting in front of it, and had often spoke of how much she dreamed of one day having a fireplace so big and beautiful.

  Shaking my head loose of the things that now only existed in my mind, I walked to the bar. Taking a seat on the stool near the staircase, I waited for one of the barmaids to serve me. The male bartender was busy chattering away with one of the sailors, while two blonde women looked to be waiting the tables, and an older auburn-haired woman hopped from patron to patron, taking orders and serving drinks.

  Though no one had noticed me yet, I was plenty amused by watching the auburn-haired barmaid’s generous hips swaying beneath her olive colored skirts as she moved between the counter and the ale barrels. She had to be twice my age, but her body was enchantingly curvy and I liked the way her wide smile illuminated her pretty face. While I hoped that she’d be the one taking my order, she wandered in my direction.

  Leaning on the bar, she said, “Sorry that took so long. This wild crew just sailed in, and they tend to drink us dry when they arrive.” She giggled. “So, what can I get for you, young man? Ale, wine, gin?”

  Trying to look at her face instead of her massive tits that were now resting on the bar top, I stuttered like a fool, “Oh, uh, I don’t need a drink. I’m just looking for Mister Huxley. Is he here?”

  Biting her luscious bottom lip, she looked me over and said, “Who’s asking?”

  “Mason, Mason Bentley.” I reached my hand out to take hers. Ignoring my gesture, she planted her hands on her voluptuous hips. “Bentley you say? Might you be Sterling Bentley’s grandson?”

  “That would be me.” I smiled boastfully.

  “Oh, good heavens. I knew I recognized you. I always thought you were a cute kid, but good Lord you’ve grown up right.” Reaching across the bar, she rubbed my arm and hummed as she pinched my upper arm. “And you’re a hard worker, I see.”

  Proud of the way my body had grown and muscles had strengthened over
the year, I flexed my arm under her touch. “Aye. If a man wants to eat, he needs to work.”

  Liking the way her amber eyes brightened as she felt my muscle hardening under her touch, I realized I should get her name before I continued flirting with her. Interlacing my fingers with hers and moving her hand from my arm, I asked, “What might I have the pleasure of calling you?”

  “Everyone around here calls me Madam Pauline.”

  I pulled her hand toward my mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Nice to meet you, Madam Pauline.”

  “Handsome and polite.” She blushed. “Your grandfather certainly raised you right.”

  “That he did.” I grinned, glad that he taught me how to treat a lady.

  Slowly pulling her hand away from mine, she said, “I run this here bar so be sure to ask me if you need anything at all.” The way she smiled led me to believe she wasn’t just talking about liquor.

  “I appreciate the hospitality.”

  Detaching her gaze from mine, she fanned her face with her hand and sighed, “Oh, look at me carrying on with you as if you came to see me. I’ll go get Mister Huxley for you.”

  “Thank you, Madam Pauline.” I nodded politely, but there was nothing polite about the thoughts running through my mind as I watched her walk away. Enchanted by every move of her hips, I caught myself staring like a fool as she walked past the barrels and then pushed through the door behind the bar.

  In a minute’s time, she came back out with the owner of the Stonehouse Inn. Pauline blew me a kiss before returning to her work, and Nathan Huxley headed in my direction. Just as I had remembered, Nathan’s wild grey hair made him look older than he was, and when he smiled at me, I snickered to myself about Lace’s comments concerning his lack of teeth.

  “Good to see you, Mason.” He reached his hand over the bar to shake mine. I stood up to greet him. Looking up at me as we shook, he said, “Begad, you’ve grown to be an outright ox, my boy. Big enough to make it seem that a strong man like your grandfather was just a wee little fellow. How old are you, now?”

  “Sixteen,” I answered. Thinking back on Robert Hale’s unusual height, I wondered just how big I would get. But not wanting to honor that rotten-hearted man with a bit of my good traits, I said, “If I grow to have but half the heart my grandfather had, I’ll be able to say I turned out all right.”

  “Sterling Bentley was a good man. I am so sorry about your loss.” His expression saddened. “Why don’t you come back to my office so we can talk in private.” He waved me behind the bar.

  The door Pauline retrieved him from, led to a bright little room with a big window facing the harbor. Welcoming me to his small and tidy office, Nathan pulled out a chair for me, and then sat down on his side of the desk. “So uh, I heard about you chasing that burglar off of Lord Beckham’s lot in order to save your sister. No one has heard from either of you since, so I assumed the worst. Where have you been, Mason?”

  Glad that July’s story had played out as truth, but curious as to how he had gotten word about it, I asked, “How did you hear about that?”

  “Well, I got your letter a while back, and was looking forward to your visit. When you didn’t show, I got a bit worried, so I rode out to see if everything was all right for you and Lace. What in the world happened to you two?”

  “We got away from those burglars all right, but Lace got sick in the woods so we had to find shelter elsewhere. I took an apprenticeship with a blacksmith and stayed there while his mother cared for Lace.”

  “Is that where you got those nice weapons?” He eyed the baldric strapped over my chest, and pointed at the pieces of steel braced to it and my belts.

  “Indeed. I made the sword and axe with the master’s help, but I did the knives myself.” I handed him one of the knives.

  Eyeing the piece, he nodded. “A man of many talents, I see.”

  “The more you know the better off you are.” I grinned as I reclaimed my knife. “So, uh, what did you find once you reached my property?” I asked, half of me not wanting to know.

  “It was no good, Mason. The house you and your grandfather built and cared for so well was all busted up and the crops were dead and dry. But there was no one there. I went to your neighbors to see what had happened, and after they told me about what your father did to you and Lace, I rode out to Lord Beckham’s to see if there was a way I could help you.”

  “When was this?” I was struggling to keep calm.

  “Last summer. When I got to the landlord’s manor, his brother who had taken over his property—as well as his pretty little wife, July—told me that when he was assessing the properties, he found your father unfit—”

  “Please stop calling him my father. Just Robert will do. That man is nothing more than an alley urchin to me.”

  “Understood.” He nodded. “Well, the landlord shooed Robert out of there and planned to clean it up as to rent it to a cousin of his. I know it isn’t good news, Mason, but at least the man who destroyed the place is out of there, now.”

  “At least,” I sighed. I already figured I’d never get it back but hearing that it was gone for good cut me to the core, and also, rekindled my hatred for the man who I would one day seek out to settle this score with.

  “I’m sorry, Mason. I knew what that land meant to your grandfather, and by the sound of your letter, it seemed you loved it just like he did. But in truth, it’s just a place. And I’m just glad you and your sister are all right. Where is she, by the by?” He looked towards the door.

  I lowered my head. “She didn’t make it through the winter.”

  “No.” His eyes filled with tears. “No. I, I didn’t know her well, but, there was just, ah, I just felt something for her. She was so lovely and kind.”

  Though I wish she would have just married this man while she had the chance, I didn’t want to talk about any of this anymore. “Well, it’s just me now, and I am looking for somewhere to stay while I plot out my new path. Do you have a room available?”

  “I’m booked plain through the month. But I would like to help you somehow. If you don’t mind me asking, what are you planning to do next?”

  “I was thinking I’d like to join a merchant crew as a sailor. See the world while making my living.”

  “A sailor, huh? My younger brother Levi was a sailor.” Nathan stroked his long, grey goatee. “Now, it isn’t my place to father you or anything—especially considering that you’re twice my size and obviously strong enough to make it on your own—but having been a good friend to your grandfather, I feel the need to warn you about some things regarding the dangerous trade.”

  “I’ll listen to all you’re willing to share.” I said, sincerely intrigued by what he may know.

  “Very well.” He scratched his bald head. “A long time ago, Levi married Pauline and took to the sea to make a life for them. He sailed for many years, under many different captains—none of which were very kind. Many of these sailors will tell you the tales of the glory and the adventure, but they tend to leave out the fact that a great deal of the captains treat their sailors like shit, whipping open the flesh of their backs and belittling their morale in order to assert their power. Considering those pressures, along with the threat of piracy, and the dangers of the weather, I watched my brother wearing thin. He looked older than his years each time he returned, and one time he came home with his back shredded from the whiplashes inflicted by his captain.” Nathan shook his head in disgust like he was reliving the sight of the wounds. “Levi was a good man, fair to his friends and always looking out for the best interest of those he cared about, so I know he didn’t deserve that punishment.”

  I had not imagined any of these dreadful possibilities, and I did begin to wonder if I should just find another way to make my living. Wanting to know more before I made my decision, I asked, “What did he do next?”

  “Oh, he returned to the sea the moment Pauline nursed him back to health. Regardless of the struggles, there were things he loved abou
t the lifestyle: traveling to new lands, the brotherhood with his fellow seamen, and the beauty of God’s creation. But that time, he found another way to take care of the woman he loved so dearly.” Letting out an exhausted breath, Nathan said, “When Levi’s ship was raided by pirates, he willingly joined their crew. From then on, he spent his days plundering merchant vessels to make his living, as well as to reap a sort of vengeance against the men who had mistreated him for so long.”

  Nathan told the tale like it was a shameful thing, but after living under the threat of the whip myself, I felt for Levi’s pain and understood why he fought back as he did. Curious as to if this man had survived the dangerous trade, as well as to whether Pauline was an available woman or not before I continued to fantasize about her, I asked, “Where is your brother now?”

  “Well, after his career change, he returned every so often, to dote over Pauline with plundered goods from around the world. He was mighty proud of and generous with his newfound wealth, and spoke highly of the lifestyle that afforded him his passion for the sea and the lofty pay. But, eventually, he was washed overboard during a storm and met his fate at the bottom of the sea. See, he made his living outside of God’s law, and I worry that he’s now paying the devil for his ill-deeds. I pray for his soul every night.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said to console the sadness he exuded, but I found myself intrigued by the tale in a way he may not have expected to inspire. I was not at all interested in robbery, but I liked the fact that a poor, mistreated man of good spirit found a way to make a stand in the world that abused him. After hearing this story, I was sure that I wanted to set out to see the world and hoped that I too would find a unique way to make my own living like Levi Huxley.