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

by Cristi Taijeron

  Having not yet eaten, the smells and sights were making me nauseous. I was in a rush, but I needed to get some food in my stomach before I ended up adding a pile of bile to the vast array of excrement splattered on the ground.

  I bought a bundle of boucan from a snarky merchant, and while chewing on the tasty meat, I asked people if they had seen my crewmen. Wearing my bloodstained shirt and holey breeches, I felt just as gangly as the crowd, and I didn’t like that. So, I bought some canvas breeches and a reasonably priced olive green waistcoat and put them on.

  Throughout the search, we found Ziare and Zean, who, of course, poked fun of me for once again looking so fine while wandering around such a shitten place. But I felt better about myself and told them to watch how the merchants took me more seriously, now. The respectful reactions to my courtesies left my friends with no room to contest my theory.

  Using the merchant’s clues, we quickly found a few more men, some of which Renard had left behind, but it was by sheer chance that I spotted Gean lying facedown in a puddle. He looked dead. Staring for a moment, I hoped to spot a sign of life. He was breathing. Thank God. Relieved, I sprinted in his direction. Not wanting to touch him, I poked his side with my shoe. “Gean, Gean. Wake up.”

  As he grunted and groaned, Zean grumbled about how annoying it was finding his brother in this condition, again.

  Rolling over, and opening one eye, Gean grinned. “Oh, hello, Quartermaster.” Blinking quickly, he eyed us over one by one and greeted us all by name.

  Amused by his casual hello, I chuckled, “Get up. We have work to do.”

  “Where are we headed?” He stood up, stretched and yawned as if he had merely arisen from his hammock.

  “For starters, we’re looking for Barlow. Have you seen him?” I fanned his stench away from me.

  “Last I saw him he was at Largo’s Inn and Tavern, winning the last of my loot over a shit arsehand of cards.” Pointing toward the dilapidated building on the right, he said, “Largo—that perfidious charlatan—banished me from his establishment, so I can’t go in, but I’ll show you to the door.”

  Walking beside him, listening to him cursing about how unfair his banishment was, I wondered how he could not be offended by his own odor. The horrific stench seeping from his pores and the fabrics he wore made me think I should have left him asleep, but we needed all the men we could convince to join us for the challenge ahead.

  Reaching the entrance to Largo’s Inn and Tavern, the others offered to search the alleyways for the remaining missing men while I went inside to get Barlow. As my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I scanned the crowded and smoke filled room. There was a man playing a flute on the stage, and plenty of others sitting at the bar and card tables. Billy Barlow was not in plain sight, but I clearly heard his unmistakable laugh roaring over the rumbles of the crowd and pleasant melody of the flute.

  Following the obnoxious chortle, I was led to a room divider. When peering around it, I saw my friend sitting at a massive table with a few other men. The table was covered in ale mugs, empty plates of food, and a pile of loot. Eyeing his cards and smoking a pipe, Barlow puffed, “This is all I’ve got left, so if I lose again, just shoot me.”

  Next to him, the short man wearing a friar’s robe pushed more money into the bet pile and laughed, “I’m doubling my bet, so I’ll honor you with two musket balls if you lose.”

  As the short man’s head whipped back in laughter, I realized who it was. Fat Annie was dressed as a man, a drinking, gambling, pipe smoking friar at that. I’d seen enough. Stepping into sight, I said, “Win or lose, Barlow, I’m going to need you to come with me after that hand.”

  He cocked a brow. “Well, good morning to you, too, sunshine.”

  His mates looked annoyed by my presence, but I didn’t care. “Morning is turning to noon and if we wait much longer it’ll be too late.”

  “It’s never too late to win!” He threw down his cards.

  Everyone hissed and booed as they took in the sight of his winning hand.

  Naturally, the dealer started handing out new cards. Barlow accepted them as if I had not said a word to him. “We have hours to burn till high noon, anyhow. So, have a seat, Mason Bentley. I want you to meet my old friend, Largo.” He patted the shoulder of the man with white, thinning hair and a huge white mustache. “Largo and I were friends back in England. He and I used to make rafts like the one that saved our lives. In fact, he’s the one who taught me to swim, same as I taught you. So, in a roundabout way, he helped us seize that ship!” He let out a loud laugh. “Would you believe Largo owns this here tavern, now? What are the odds of meeting up here, eh?”

  “Nice to meet you, sir.” I tried to speak politely to Largo, even though I wanted to yank Barlow out by his collar.

  “You as well, young man.” Largo stuck his hand out to shake mine. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Good things, I hope.” I flashed a sarcastic grin.

  Eyeing the necklace I wore—boasting the tooth of my enemy—he shrugged. “It depends on what your idea of good is. But for me, yes, I like a man who takes charge like you do…” He started rambling on about the tales Barlow had shared with him.

  Normally, it would have been fun discussing our latest accomplishments with my good friend’s old friend. But not now. Time was ticking and we had to go. Trying not to be rude, I finally said, “I’d love to talk with you more, sometime, sir. But for now, our captain needs Barlow on deck.”

  Largo playfully slapped Barlow upside the head. “Eh, you. Your quartermaster demands your presence. Have some respect.”

  Fat Annie nudged Barlow, as well. “Aye, you don’t want your tooth to be next on Bentley’s chain.”

  All the men chuckled as Barlow stood up. Staggering drunk, he sloppily laid his cards on the table. The others followed. Setting sight on his losing hand, he whined and complained as Largo scooped up his winnings.

  While Fat Annie shoved Barlow out of the booth and away from the table, I shook Largo’s hand. “Nice meeting you, Largo. Next visit, I’ll buy you a drink.”

  “You’ve got it, lad.” He smiled.

  Relieved to finally get on my way, I hurried for the door. To my irritation, two young men who had been sitting at the bar followed me out. I had no interest in stopping again, but they were pacing behind me like damn puppies, chirping my name like birds.

  “What?” I turned to face them.

  The taller one took his hat off and addressed me, “Oh, uh. Sorry to bother you, Quartermaster Bentley. But, well, Billy Barlow said you need sailors on your crew. The name’s Matthew Largo. Our father owns this place and is good friends with Barlow. My brother Paul and I are both skilled sailors and would be interested in joining your crew if you’d allow us the honor.”

  Hearing Matthew’s introduction, Barlow barged over and started blubbering about how he loved Largo’s bastard children as much as he’d love his own if he had any.

  No longer caring what the specifics were about captain and crew elections, I quickly welcomed the skilled sailors to our crew and rushed toward the group of men I’d left outside.

  Meeting up with my crew—who had gathered a few other drunkards—I tried to get their attention as they greeted each other and discussed the fun they had last night. I never before had to tame a group so large or loud or so drunk for that matter, and it was quite frustrating trying to get their attention. In between my shouted commands, Barlow staggered over to me and said, “I thought we were in some kind of rush. Spit it out afore I go back in there to reclaim my lost loot.”

  “Goddamn it, Barlow, you aren’t going anywhere.” I hissed through clenched teeth and then tugged him closer. “This is about the cargo. I need you on my side. Get your wits about you or I’ll slap you sober.”

  “What cargo?” he said loudly and then belched.

  I glared at him without a word.

  His eyes widened as he quietly gasped, “Oh, the cargo.” At that moment he caught his first glimps
e of Tennison, and nodded with interest.

  “Long shitty story.” I let out a long breath. “And as you can imagine, this isn’t something to be discussed in public. I need to get these men to the ship.”

  Glancing over the men who were just as drunk as he was, and some, like Gean who appeared in far worse of shape, Barlow suddenly sounded quite sober as he said, “Aye. To the ship.”

  Tired of the untamed bantering of the group, I pulled my pistol from my belt and quickly filled the pan with powder. “This will get their attention,” I snickered to myself, and then fired the thing at a nearby barrel.

  The gunshot echoed through the alleyway. As I’d hoped, the ruckus silenced the group.

  With all eyes on me and my still smoking pistol, I said, “I have not gathered you here to see your filthy faces or to smell your rancid breath, but to let you know that it is crucial that we meet our captain on deck a bit ahead of schedule.”

  They whined like children. Hearing the things they were complaining about—loot lost at the card table, food they wanted to eat, and naps they needed to take—I laughed a bit and then spoke over their complaints. “I understand that this may be unpleasant for you, but if you can defeat Spanish patrol ships from canoes, you can damn sure drag your drunk arses to the harbor and row a longboat across the calm waters of the bay.”

  To my pleasant surprise, they laughed and cheered and began reliving the glorious memories of our latest feat as we headed for the harbor.

  Chapter 21

  From Prey to Predator

  Rowing across the bay, some of the drunk, exhausted, and seemingly worthless men sang sea shanties, while the others bitched and moaned about the brightness of the sun. I laughed at the words of their song and their array of expressions as I rushed them to row faster. But the combined mix of misery and joy, all came to a halt when they noticed that Escudo Dorado was missing.

  “Where the hell did Renard go?” Gean spit out his liquor as he gasped.

  “Why would they leave without telling us?” Zean shaded his eyes with his hand as he looked for their ship.

  Digging my oars into the teal water of the bay, I glanced around at the many eyes that were now set on me. “That’s exactly what I’ve gathered you to discuss. But all I can tell you right now is that I am not happy about it.”

  Sitting there quietly—eyeing the empty place where Escudo Dorado had recently anchored—I listened in as my men conjured up the worst possible reasons for the disappearance. I wished I could have chimed in to tell the speculating crowd what Tennison had told me, but it’d be best not to relay a word until I spoke to the captain.

  Reaching Isabella, I grabbed Tennison by the collar and dragged him behind me as I rushed to the captain’s cabin. Plowing through the entrance, and once again stunned by the amount of light shining in through the still busted bulkheads, I looked around for Burton. He was standing at the head of the table and was surrounded by a handful of Renard’s buccaneers. At first, I was unnerved by their presence, but upon spying Joshua in the group, I figured they had come on good terms.

  Joshua was sitting beside Captain Burton. Next to him were Smoky and Seedy—the indentured Irish servants who had killed their abusive master. And across from them was Just Plain Jack—that was his answer to anyone who asked his name or story.

  Tennison leaned near me and whispered, “These are the men who questioned Smedley and Rupert on your behalf.”

  Having heard Tennison’s hushed tone, Burton said, “That they did, and they came here to tell us where Renard went and why.”

  “Tennison came to tell me the same thing,” I said, and then wondered how similar their tales might be.

  Joshua looked at me. “I never liked Smedley. None of us did. And we refused to participate in his plans to destroy your good character, Bentley. Nor could we stand idle as they set out to retrieve Burton’s ticket home to his family.”

  “Aye, we like you both,” Seedy added, “And not a one of us believes the bad things Smedley and Rupert were saying about either of you.”

  Smoky chimed in, “We are supposed to be brothers and work together and you two have always done what is best for the group. I don’t know much, but I am sure Renard and his mates aren’t thinking about anyone but themselves.”

  Just Plain Jack nodded to agree with all they were saying.

  Joshua finalized, “They chose to tear apart our brotherhood with this dastardly act of treason, and the four of us agreed to take your side of the divide. We are all stout sailors, skilled with small arms and will offer our services to aid you in any way we can.”

  Relieved to hear that they had seen the truth and were willing to assist us, I sighed, “Thank you.”

  Burton patted Joshua’s back. “Yes, thank you, my friend. Please, allow my quartermaster and me a moment to discuss our heading.”

  As they left us the room, Tennison followed alongside them with his head held higher than I had seen it since before the shipwreck.

  Within the next thirty seconds, Burton and I shared the details that were given to us, all of which lined up. Tennison had been telling the truth and we both agreed that he deserved some kind of pardon for finally doing what he had always known was right. But pardon details were not of the current priority.

  With all the information before us, I asked the captain, “Well, what do you want to do about this?”

  Pacing angrily, Burton growled, “I want to tie separate ends of the same rope around both Smedley and Rupert’s necks and drop them from each side of the yard to see who chokes first. But I have to find them to do that, so hunting them is top of the list.”

  Liking the ingenuity of the idea, I chuckled as he went on with his plans.

  “We’ll need at least eight capable sailors to sail this bitch, and considering the strength of the winds and tides of the Windward Passage, more would be better.” He stroked his beard. “Who did you bring back with you and where do their loyalties lie?”

  “All of your original crew, plus Tennison—who agreed to man the helm while you navigate. Barlow brought two skilled sailors aboard and though Ziare and Taino may not be sailors, yet, they are both fast and eager learners and I believe they will be equally dedicated to our cause. That only leaves a few others on the fence, but considering the drastic conclusions they jumped to when they saw Escudo Dorado gone, I reckon we have a fine chance at winning them over. Especially the ones who got left behind. Oh, and Fat Annie is here, too.”

  He slapped his forehead. “I forgot about her.”

  I laughed. “I think the men did, too. She’s dressed as a friar and they were all so drunk I don’t think they saw through the disguise.”

  “Hopefully I can’t see through it, either.” He shook his head then started pacing. “As for the men in question, I suppose we’ll tell them what’s going on and let them choose if they want to join us or not. I won’t be the one to force them to fight against their friends if they don’t want to. But this could turn to battle and we may need hands at the guns, so I hope Gean stays on.”

  “Aye, considering that he used to serve in the Navy with Renard, I’m not sure he’ll want to fight against him. I reckon he’ll be our biggest challenge.”

  “Aye, but with or without a master gunner, we have ourselves a solid crew of loyal men. Now, I suggest we plot our course before we run out there to address them. We should know where we’re headed before we try to convince men to follow.” He started digging in his sea chest and pulled out the maps.

  Meeting him at the table, and setting sight on the familiar charts, I said, “Good idea. Plus, a few extra minutes will give them a chance to sober up. Zean said he was going to feed them and they might have better heads about them after they’ve eaten.”

  Pointing at the island of Tortuga, the small but long speck of land along Hispaniola’s north-west shore, he said, “We are here. And Boa Constrictor Island is right about there.” He ran his finger across the Windward Passage and stopped in the middle of the sea where
there was no mark to claim the tiny island’s place. “It looks close, and by mile it is, but the winds and tides of the Windward Passage are tricky to navigate. We’ll need to set a Rhumb Line course. That means we’ll have to keep a consistent eye on the compass in order to cross all meridians at a constant angle. The first part of the sail should be easy, with winds blowing in our favor until we cut around Tortuga’s eastern coast. Once we get to about here,” he pressed down hard at a spot far to the east of our westward destination, “we’ll tack into a head to wind course. From there on out, things will be rough until we reach the leeward shore of Boa Constrictor Island.”

  Awed by his knowledge of the sea, but perturbed by the roundabout course he was suggesting, I asked, “How long do you think it will take?”

  He peered out the gaping hole in the starboard hull and said, “With any luck, we’ll lay anchor at sundown.”

  “Sundown.” I hummed as I thought. “You know, that might be better. I was already thinking of how it’d be best to sneak up from the east, and nightfall will better cloak our approach.”

  “I like the sound of that. But being how I was hardly alive when we were there, I’ll have to trust you to guide us across the island.”

  “It would be my honor.”

  Stuffing tobacco in his pipe, he said, “The things you take honor in impress me, Bentley. In fact, all of you buccaneers have impressed me in one way or another. Freedom has a way of showing a man in his true light, and here, without a king or a written law to keep you in line, most of you have proven yourselves to be decent fellows on your own accord.” He shook his head in awe. “Overall, this has been a fascinating experience. In truth, I respect and admire the world you have established here. Though I am thankful for your dedication, I do not expect anyone of you to follow me to your possible deaths on loyalty alone. I will pay you all for your service from my personal share.”

  “Oh, that’s a good idea. I can contribute to the total.” I opened my sea bag to see just how many coins I had to offer.