Finding everyone satisfied with their roles, Burton concluded, “Considering the damage we cast upon the Spaniards while we were in disarray, they better steer clear of us now that we’re organized. Now, we’re going to need to see what this bitch is hauling so that we can trade for repairs, supplies, and surgeon fees once we reach shore.
How about a group of you search the hold, and some others venture into the captain’s cabin. There’s bound to be some coin in there as well as some personal valuables that could be of use. And you, Bentley, since you can read, I want you to get your hands on the captain’s log. It will surely be in Spanish, but perhaps you can pluck out some helpful information in there.”
Everyone set off to begin their chores. Ziare followed me to the cabin. There was a heap of debris blocking the entrance. It didn’t take long to remove the busted boards and once the path was clear, we kicked down the broken door. Squinting and preparing for my eyes to adjust to the darker lighting that was normally found below deck, I was instead surprised by far more light than I expected.
Gold and red rays of evening light shone through the busted starboard timbers, lighting the once stately cabin with an eerie glow. The room—decorated with dark wood and deep red fabrics—extended the width of the ship, as did the row of fanciful stern windows. At the starboard, the stained glass and wooden frames were busted to bits and scattered about the room just like the ornate furniture that our gunfire had dismantled and destroyed, but the portside of the room had remained intact.
Seeing how the captain’s table stood solid with two benches and an ornate armchair still standing upright around it, I said to Ziare, “I say we gather what we can out of the pile and lay it out on the table.”
Dragging his hand across the books on the shelf, Ziare said, “Better yet, why don’t you find the captain’s logbook while I sort through the rest.”
“All right,” I said, and then headed for the large wooden chest near the neatly made bed. “Burton keeps his in his sea chest. I suppose I’ll start here.”
Surprised and happy to find the thing unlocked, I opened the lid. Just like in Burton’s chest, this one was stocked with a few prized guns, only these were not so worthy of cherishing. Picking one of them up, I said to Ziare, “Look at these antiquated things. No wonder we annihilated them with our musket fire.”
Taking a stand beside me, Ziare eyed the rusty and ill-kept piece. “Aye. That is because the Spanish are too foolish to trade with any other nation. As you and I know, France makes the best guns and England the strongest steel. These dogs have what they make and that is that.”
“That is rather foolish.” I set the gun down and reached for the flat wooden box. Opening it to find a fine set of feather quills, I said, “If I had a ship and was free to travel the world, I’d collect things from all over.” The concept led me to think about all the things Levi Huxley had gathered and stowed in Madam Pauline’s room.
As Ziare opened the armoire near the bed, he said, “You do have a ship and you can travel the world now, quartermaster.”
“Damn. You’re right.” I picked up a little wooden chest at the bottom of the box. Finding it locked, I began prying the hinges with my knife. “You know, I left England hoping to find a way to make something of myself. I imagined a few different outcomes, but this surely was not one of them. Hell, I’m still not sure just what it means or where this path will lead me, but I already like it better than the life of peasantry I left behind.”
“It is a proud thing to be a leader of free men. I knew you were a good guide for your men, and a grand hunter among our tribe, but now I know you are a strong warrior, as well. You will always have my vote, Mason Bentley.” He threw at me a fanciful coat he found in the armoire. “Even if you are a fop who would love a ridiculous coat like this.”
Catching the heavy wad of blue and white fabric, I laughed, “You know me so well.” I tried the thing on as he continued to pull fine clothing out of the cabinet. It was too small. Setting it down alongside the other items we would be trading on Tortuga, I said, “Damn it. I was hoping this would fit since I grew out of my burgundy one.”
While shuffling through the cabinet drawers, Ziare said, “Do you come from a line of giants?”
Finally prying the lock on the small chest, I thought of the giant whose bloodline I came from; the enormous beast of a man who defeated me all those years ago. Now, I would be able to look Robert Hale straight in the eyes. Imagining myself doing so, and wondering just what I would say to him, I suddenly lost interest in the unlocked chest in my grip. There was no item of value, amount of freedom, or even any type of vengeance that could repay the worth of what that man took from me…
“Are you going to hug it, or open it?” Ziare said, snapping me out of my trance.
“Uh, oh, yes. Yes, let’s see what we’ve got here.” Once again curious as to what I may find in this purposely stowed chest, I carefully opened the lid. The sight before me took my breath away. There, under the golden glow of evening light, glistened a pile of gold coins. “Sink me, Ziare! We’re rich!”
The coins were just like the one Robert Hale tried to give me. Remembering how much he said such a piece was worth, I sifted my hand through the multitude of them and began rambling about the value of this find, “With this many coins, we’ll be able to pay the doctor, fix the ship, reload on ammunition, pay everyone… Blow me down, with these coins, alongside the other items of value, we could each end up with half a year sailor’s wages when all is said and done.”
Holding the lantern he’d lit over the pile, candlelight flickering on the gold pieces, he said, “Oh, that’s a lot of coin. The captain will be pleased.”
Pleased indeed. Maybe this amount of money would help to cover the value of the items he lost.
As Ziare rambled on about all the things he was going to do with his portion of the pay, I spotted a journal in the chest.
Passing the chest of coins to Ziare, I said, “Add this to the goods you’ve set on the table. I’m going to see if I can make sense of anything in this book.
Pulling out the finely upholstered chair, I took a seat at the head of the table and opened up the book. The first page, though written in Spanish, was simple enough for me to gather that the captain’s name was Don Juarez y Moreno and the ship Isabella made berth in Santa Domingo, Hispaniola.
The following page listed the names of the officers and sailors aboard. When glancing over their names, I spotted the priest among them, Diego Ibarra. The others were unfamiliar to me, just like the faces of the men I slayed. At that moment, the sight of their butchered bodies lying lifeless on the deck flashed through my mind. Seeing the names their mother’s gave them somehow humanized them and left me wondering about who might have been awaiting them back home in Santa Domingo.
My brief moment of compassion was quickly drowned out by my visions of the bloodshed they brought to our home. Those bastards killed our dogs and our brothers without hesitation. If we had not fought as we had, they would have killed us, too. It is unfortunate that we had to take lives to save lives, but the Spanish started this god-awful game, and we won it. We fought the better fight and I was now alive to sit here in this lofty chair where I was attempting to decode their reasoning.
When gazing over the minimal cargo list—mostly consisting of guns and ammunition—I figured that Isabella had been lightly stocked for the short sail from Santa Domingo to Terra Grande, which was what they called our northern side of the island. I wanted so badly to understand what they had intended to do with our land and to find out if they had any other attacks planned. But it was just too dense in the unknown language. Thinking of the advantage it would give me to understand their written words, I thereby decided that I would somehow teach myself the enemies native tongue.
“Ziare,” I called for his attention. “You know some Spanish words. Help me figure out what this book has to tell.”
While tossing things from the table into the chest, he said, “Tell me what
you are reading and I’ll let you know if anything sounds familiar.”
While Ziare collected everything of value, I read to him and listened carefully to the words he knew. I knew better than to ask how he learned the enemy’s language, but by his vocabulary alone, I assumed he had once been enslaved by them, which made me hate them even more.
No more than two pages into the study, Burton called for the men to cut out the sails. Peck’s voice rang out from the helm, and echoed into the cabin as the ship came to a slow.
Proud of Peck for doing his job so well, I grinned as I closed the book and said to Ziare, “Well, I know more Spanish now than I knew yesterday. I guess we’ll finish later.”
Ziare tossed me a spyglass. “Here, let’s take a look at the harbor. I suggest you bid on this when we divvy up the loot. Then you can leave mine alone.”
I thanked him for the glass and followed him to the porthole to take a look outside. There wasn’t much daylight left in the sky, but under the burning red glow, I watched Escudo Dorado coming to a slow ahead of us. She was halting alongside a lean and sleek brigantine that had her gun ports opened wide. With my glass, I spied the ship’s name, Fleur de Fer. Her deck was heavy laden with many men, each loaded with weapons. Worse off, the stone fortress based on a highest rise of the island overlooked our ship with what appeared to be about forty cannons. Most of which were aimed in our direction.
From this position, we could see Renard talking to the short man on the brigantine.
Glass aimed on the men, Ziare said, “The little man and Renard are laughing. It seems that they know each other. They are pointing at the Spanish sails and it looks like Renard is telling the little man our story. I think they like the tale.”
“I know that because I am viewing the same thing out of the spyglass you just gave me.” I chuckled as I watched the two crews hooting and howling over our success.
Moments later we were sailing past the guard ship, Fleur de Fer. The men aboard her waved and congratulated us as we went by, making for a warm welcome to the island of Tortuga.
X
Bosun Peck and I coached the novice sailors through the process of anchoring the ship and dousing the sails. Without an enemy ship soaring up Isabella’s arse, we were able to take our time explaining the steps and the terms, and made sure that each man understood the importance of his position.
Once all the sails were furled up tight, Peck patted the dust off of his hands and said, “Good job, men. You still have a lot to learn about sailing, but with that kind of determination we’ll be soaring across the seas as swiftly as the wind in no time.”
The men all cheered and reiterated things to each other that Peck had said during his lesson. I looked to Peck and saw that he was staring at the proud and jolly crewmen with a tear in his eye. Turning his attention to me, he gulped, “You know, Bentley. I never thought I’d be anything more than a lowly deckhand who was the brunt of better men’s cruel humor. But look at them. They listened to my teachings and are cheering about the things I said. I can’t believe it, but I like it. Makes me feel like I’m finally worth a damn.”
I patted his back. “You’re a lot smarter than you’ve given yourself credit for. Plus, you care about people and have it in your heart to do what’s right. Personally, I am proud to have you as bosun of this fine crew, and I look forward to seeing what we can accomplish under your command.”
The widest smile crossed his dirty face. He reached his arms out and hugged me. While he patted my back and thanked me for working with Burton to give him this chance, Burton and Ziare set the chest of gathered goods before the crowd. The heavy thing landed with a thud that caught everyone’s attention.
After discussing the total value of our loot to trade, we agreed to each take a minimal amount of coin to spend until the needed expenses were paid. Once business was settled, we’d divvy out the remaining value among us for pay. With everyone in agreement, each man took a small purse of coins as his own then prepared for an evening ashore.
Exhausted from the day’s work, Burton offered to stay aboard to keep watch alongside Peckadennel and our beloved dogs. I agreed to guide the injured to the sorcerer and make plans for repairs in town. First, I was looking forward to having some of my wounds stitched, and possibly finding some fresh water to wash with, but I was also quite excited about setting foot on new land.
Injured men loaded and longboats away, we rowed across the black water of the bay and toward the lights of town. Renard’s men had already boarded their longboats and were rowing ahead of us. Hoping to catch up with them at the dock, I pressed my men to row faster. As busy as we were rushing to shore, I did what I could to observe the new surroundings.
On the way we passed between a few of the many ships anchored in the natural harbor. Under the light of their deck lanterns, I saw that they all boasted slim trim lines and many deck guns. These ships were definitely different from any I had seen before, and the few men left aboard them—stirring at their gunnels, eyeing the Spanish patrol ships we had just anchored—were just as unique.
As for the land, there was a bonfire burning not far from the docks and the light from the flames danced across the haphazard walls of the few buildings of town. Surrounding the somewhat stable establishments were many, many tents and huts, and I could see the shadows of men stirring about. I was intrigued by the looks of this small town and the interesting people inhabiting it, but Renard’s crew was rowing away from the docks and toward a small cove to the east.
Taking note of the path, Fat Annie boasted, “See, I told you they were headed for Magie Noire. His place is through those trees.”
The men who had been looking forward to whatever meager amenities might await us in town, started bickering about the change of course. Below the rumble of their grumbling, I heard Gean huff, “I don’t like the look of those dark and foreboding woods.”
Amused by his girlish fear, as well as the extensive vocabulary that he often used, I chuckled, “Ah, come on. What could an ol’ brute like you be afraid of?”
Rowing along, he easily confessed his fears. “Ghosts, goblins, wild animals…Hell, we’re on our way to see a witch. Who knows what evil spirits he is in power of?”
“Don’t worry,” Fat Annie patted his cheek. “He looks intimidating but is a true sweetheart, like you.”
Barlow grumbled under his breath.
To comfort Barlow’s jealous grumbling, Fat Annie rubbed his arm, “You’re the sweetest of sweethearts, darling. And I know you will love it here, too. Magie Noire has plenty of liquor and hashish. We’ll all have a grand time, I promise.”
Hardly looking appeased, Barlow hopped out of the boat and began pulling it to shore.
A few of us jumped out alongside him, and before long, we were helping our injured men onto the beach right alongside Renard and his crew.
Reunited after a long and dreadful, but successful day, our groups hugged and laughed and began telling each other tales of our feats. It looked like they were only down a few men like us, but one was so bad off that his mates were already carrying him up the path. Renard bid them good luck and then rushed back to the boat to help the others with whatever they needed to prepare for the journey.
I planned to address him as soon as he had a free minute, but he spotted me first. “Bentley!” He called my name as if we were longtime friends as he headed in my direction.
“Renard!” I accepted the hug he offered me.
His grip on my battered body emphasized every aching pain, but what hurt most of all was the weight of the news I carried.
Releasing his hold on me, Renard said, “Good job today, mate. I know we’ve never gotten along very well, but we made a mighty fine team nonetheless, eh?”
“We did a fine job, all of us.” I agreed.
“Speaking of fine jobs, your mutineers put up one hell of a fight. I didn’t expect them to be so useful in battle, but they sure proved me wrong.”
“Where are they, now?” I asked, mome
ntarily distracted from my woes.
He fanned his hand at me. “Oh, don’t worry. They are on my ship, under guard until you can get to them. I didn’t want to leave them tied up to die during the fight, but in respect to you and Burton, we agreed to chain them back up once the smoke cleared.” The smile on his face and the comradery of his actions made it all the more difficult for me to tell him what happened.
Fiddling with the lock of hair in my pocket, I wondered just what I would say, but before I had to, he stepped closer and asked, “Where’s Naked?”
I took a deep breath. “He didn’t make it.”
His brows furrowed. “I could have sworn I saw him on your ship. His hair, his silver hair…”
“That must have been Zean who you saw.”
Tears filled his eyes as he shrieked, “No. No. This can’t be. What happened to him?”
“The Spanish got him while we were out on our hunt.”
He shook his head rapidly. “What do you mean, got him?”
The vision of Naked’s decapitated head flashed through my mind. I did not know how to form the words, but apparently the terror on my face said it all.
“How could you let this happen?” He pushed me.
Stumbling to catch my balance, I tried to explain, “He wasn’t with us. He went to get—”
“And why wasn’t he with you?” His volume drew the attention of the crowd. “I thought you were a leader. One who took care of his men!”
Taking note of how they were all looking at me for an answer, and feeling like a fool for failing so miserably, I stuttered, “He went…I didn’t…”
The liquid filling his eyes fell fast, cutting a clean path across the gunpowder coating his cheeks. I could see his heart breaking in his deep and painful gaze. At that moment I realized there was nothing I could say to mend the wound. All I could do was give him the lock of hair. Just as I began to pull it out, Renard turned away from me, pushed his way through the crowd and ran back towards town.
King of My Nightmare (King of My Nightmare, Book 1): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories Page 31