Romancing the Pirate 01 - Blood and Treasure

by Jennifer Bray-Weber

  The weathered seaman flipped over a bucket to sit down. “Mark me words.” John tapped a finger to his bent nose, lumpy from years of sunburn. “We’ve displeased ’er and now the sea ’as cursed us.” His wide eyes darted out at the sticky fog, searching for whatever grim spirit would be coming for them. Sadie, too, looked out at the heavy sullen mists, coming to eradicate the doomed.

  “Aye.” Jaq, a barrel-chested man sitting on a crate agreed. Laying his firearm across his thighs, he removed the handkerchief from his neck. “I’ve heard stories ’bout a schooner found driftin’ from a fog bank.” He wiped the sweat from his brow. “The whole bloody ship was empty, not a man on board. Not even a rat.”

  The black seaman they called Sam crouched down between them. “We could be stranded out here for days, weeks.” He leaned on his musket for support. “We run outta food, t’en what?” He looked back and forth between the two, panic flashing in his wild eyes. “We be forced to eat each ot’er.”

  The men winced. Sadie choked back a chuckle.

  “Well.” Jaq looked thoughtfully. “I say Charlie be the first to go.”

  “Why Charlie?” Sam asked.

  “He got the most meat.”

  “Hey, Jaq.” Shifting his weight on the bucket, John leaned in to the man on the crate. “Ye once said Henri carried with ’im a witch’s knot.”

  “That I did.”

  Sam, too, leaned in. “A witch’s knot?”

  Sadie rolled her eyes. Superstitious fools.

  Jaq lowered his voice to barely audible. “It be a string with three knots tied into it by a witch. Untie the first knot and winds will blow. Untie the second to conjure up a gale. The third be getting ye a hurricane.”

  “Does ’e still be ’avin’ it?” John sat very still as he passed his gaze over the haze.

  “Henri has had that knot many years. Says he fears usin’ the knot will release a plague far worse. He think it a trick, bindin’ hisself to the sorceress forever, in life and death. He won’t be riddin’ hisself of it neither. Say ’twas a gift he cannot throw away lest he bring down a wrath upon his head.”

  “We be cursed.” John repeated his earlier declaration.

  Sadie finally spoke. “’Tis that woman.”

  The seamen looked up as Sadie pushed her mop towards them. The superstitious idiots ogling her would be a suitable way to stir the pot.

  “’Tis bad luck to have a woman on board a ship.” Sadie sloshed the mop into her bucket of water. “Isn’t that what you sea dogs claim, John?”

  “That it is.”

  “What about you, Sadie?” Jaq flicked his chin at her. “You’re a woman. You bein’ here ain’t brought no curse.”

  “Ah, because I am not just a woman, I’m a pirate.” She was confident they’d see her reasoning. “And I earn a reprieve as such.” She strutted into their huddle. Looking to each man, she gauged their faces, their ignorance. Aye, they would make a fine lot among which to plant her discontenting seed.

  “But this woman,” she continued, “well, her presence has distracted the Captain, placing us all in danger. Why, he was to be on watch at Garra, but was off dallying with the wench. And what about last night? Where was he during the storm?

  “That wench has angered the sea. She gave us that squall last night. And now this.” Sadie thrust her arm out toward the gray void. “Sam’s right. We could drift out here forever if she sees it fit. We need to gain favor. Something must be done about that wench.”

  The men exchanged troubled glances. Sadie resisted the urge to smile.

  John spoke first. “That’s the Capt’n’s lady. I’m not too quick stakin’ blame on ’er.”

  “Aye. An a squall taint nuthin’.” Sam added his own opinion.

  Jaq swiped his upper lip with his rag. “But Sadie be right. The Capt’n hadn’t been hisself since she came on board.”

  “Don’t reckon any of us ’ave.” John smiled. “She’s a vision for any salty dog’s deadlights. Did you see ’er dancin’? The Capt’n would cut me weasand if ’e be knowin’ the ideas in me brain.” He dragged his finger across his throat.

  Heads bobbed in agreement.

  A stab of jealousy tightened in Sadie’s chest. She exhaled noisily from her nostrils. “’Tis as I’ve said. Captain Fox is bound by the codex to protect his ship and faithful crew. He is foolishly neglecting his duty because of a flaunting bosom. Isn’t that how men fall? By the flesh of a woman? I, for one, don’t want to have my life compromised for the fodder of another.”

  “And what be you suggestin’, lass?” Jaq inquired.

  “Only that you bear in mind the reason for our current state. When the time presents itself, you’ll know what to do.”

  Sam stood to face her. She took notice of the dark muscles smooth and taut on his chest, of his massive powerful arms. They could crush her as easily as snapping a chicken’s neck. He hovered too close. Yet her egotism kept Sadie from taking a step back. Sam wouldn’t dare hurt her. He’d answer to Zane. Zane warned her to watch her back, but no man would want to face him should harm come to her by their hand.

  “T’ere’ll be no mutiny.” He stared a burning hole through her.

  “Of course. But if something unfortunate should happen to the dear lady…” Sadie grabbed the mop handle. “Well, that would be…unfortunate.”

  She turned her back to the men, pushing her mop along. “Even if the winds return,” she said over her shoulder, “this ship cannot afford to roll the bones on a woman without utility to the mission.”

  The seamen returned to cleaning their weapons, not another word spoken among them. At least not until she was out of earshot.

  Motherless bastards.

  The mists shifted. Bull suddenly appeared, jumping down from the deck above and blocking her way to the hatch door. He rose to full height. Malevolence rolled off him, consuming the surrounding haze. His large arms hung at his sides like brawny shanks. Thick fingers that couldn’t quite make a fist protruded from his hands like meaty claws. Sadie reveled in his cold-gutted glare, let it flow over her as if it were the angry surf. They were two of a kind, she and Bull. Take what they want, from who they want, and leave nothing behind.

  “What say you, handsome?”

  “You stirrrin’ up trouble.”

  “That’s my affair.” She shoved him to move out of her way, but he threw up his arm across the threshold.

  “What’s your ailment with the hussy?” he said.

  Perchance this arch-devil would be an accomplice in her scheme. Bull was a man unto himself. His very appearance did not invite company. Even hardened men kept their distance. But his interest in what Sadie was up to encouraged her to strike a bond. “You may well ask. Like you, she’s crossed me. I don’t like to be crossed, do you, Bull? She tries to make fools of us.”

  A low gnarl rumbled from his chest. “I want a piece o’ her.”

  “You had your chance last night.”

  “Tyburn showed.”

  “Pity, too.” She sighed heavily and leaned the mop against the wall. “No matter. With your help, I’ll get rid of her.”

  “No. No help from me.”

  Sadie stepped in close and spoke into his ear. “You like me, don’cha Bull?”

  He stood very still, staring forward.

  She took Bull’s hand from the door jamb and placed it on her arse. She will get what she came for, one way or another. With or without Zane, she will captain the Rissa and see the ship live up to her daunting reputation. She will avenge her father’s death. She will live like her father had promised. Sadie remembered well those nights Papa sailed to port. He came bearing glittering gifts of gold and shiny jewels any girl on the cusp of womanhood would covet. He never outright gave her the gifts. Instead they’d live in fancy hotels and dined like kings until the money was spent, and then he’d be gone again. Aye, she missed Papa. Wouldn’t he be proud of his little pirate princess, now? Before the space of a year, all of the Caribbean will know of Sadie Greene
.

  “Do as I say and I’ll make it worth your while,” she said. “Would you like that?”

  He squeezed and slowly looked down into her face.

  “Of course you would.”

  He returned to gazing frontwards.

  “Spread tale. The winds will return when that bitch is gone. Do this,” she returned to his ear, put her lips to his lobe, “and you won’t be disappointed.”

  Blackened teeth peeked beneath his evil smile. Men, all too easy to manipulate with a few minutes of knocking. An act they both could enjoy. Take no notice of his filthy smell and his ugly mug and she’d come off just as he.

  “Good. I’ll leave you to your task.” She took a step back, but he snapped up her wrist.

  “No. We fuck now.”

  “Very well.” She let him pull her through the door to the deck below. An alliance shall be forged and soon another seed in her plan would take root.

  *****

  Henri slapped his cards to the table as Lianna fanned hers out for the little man to see. “I’ll be damned.” He shook his head in astonishment.

  They sat in Zane’s cabin, unaware of him as he leaned, arms crossed, against the door jamb. Henri’s leg rested propped on a chair. A vessel of ale sat between them, two more lay empty on the floor. Lianna had been keeping Henri company since after breakfast. His throbbing leg he incessantly complained about wasn’t near the amount of pain he’d been causing in Zane’s backside and she offered to entertain the grumpy, snarling navigator and keep him out of Zane’s way.

  “That’s eight in a row.” Lianna smiled wide. “Good thing we’re not wagering. I’d own your soul with the way you play.”

  “If’n I didn’t know better, I’d say ye be cheatin’.” He winked at her.

  “To what purpose?” She shuffled the cards. “A game isn’t a game if you have to cheat your way to win. The loss is usually much greater than the stakes when the ruse is up. No, I prefer the challenge of winning square.”

  “Not many share in ye thinkin’.” He gathered up the cards she dealt across the table.

  “That I know to be true. But, I have a knack for spotting a cheat.” She arranged the cards in her hands, putting them in order of relevance. “Whether I call the rascal on it or fold is a matter of the stakes. Just like now.” She glanced over her hand. “I haven’t anything to lose by calling you out with the ace you are hiding in your shirt sleeve.”

  “Wha’? Ye? But how?” Henri’s cheeks flushed as pink as his beard bows. “Aw, criminy.” He fished the card out and flicked it onto the table.

  “How despicable to cheat a lady.”

  Startled by Zane’s booming, angry voice, Henri flinched and swiped at the cards in effort to conceal them.

  Zane caught the two conspicuously gambling, a leisure not tolerated on his ship. Banning such games of chance kept peace among his crew. Without the vice of gaming, quarreling and fighting remained minimal.

  Still, there was something very attractive about Lianna not only knowing how to play but nonchalantly catching Henri cheating as well. Another tidbit he would add to her growing list of endearments. She sat twisted in her chair facing him with her arm resting across its back, a colorful vision to behold. A handsome woman of grace peppered with the spices of sinful, epicurean life. Not to mention her prowess in his bed last night. She made him ache.

  “My apologies, Captain Fox. Henri told me the laws of your ship regarding games. I admit coercing him to play.” She wore an unapologetic smile. She didn’t seem affected by his commanding force, or threatened by his anger. He was a tad annoyed by that, for only a moment, until her sensual smile heightened his heat, honing him to her energy.

  “Don’t be angry with him. No wagering took place.”

  “’Less ye be meanin’ me pride,” mumbled Henri.

  “Be that as it may, I will not permit cards, dice or any other betting on board.” He tried to sound stern and maybe he did, but he wasn’t really perturbed with them.

  “Of course, Captain Fox. No more gambling.” She gathered up the cards and stacked them neatly.

  ’Twas a nice change of pace seeing Henri be amicable, not snappish. Lianna had taken his mind off his painful leg and Zane hadn’t had to listen to the crabby goat whine and carry on about his near death experience. That in itself was worth every grain of salt.

  He almost hated to ask his next question. “How’s your leg, man?”

  “I’m sufferin’ somethin’ awful.”

  “Good. The fog is clearing. The winds shouldn’t be far behind.” He walked over, handing Henri his crooked cane. “I’ll need you at the helm when they do. We’re under heavy pressure to cut through to Jamaica before nightfall.”

  Zane took the ale from Henri just before he put it to his lips, handing him an apple from a nearby wooden bowl instead. “I also need you sober.”

  Henri grumbled as he shakily grabbed his cane and hobbled out the door.

  “Thank you for putting up with him. I know he can be impossible,” Zane said.

  “Nonsense. He just needs a little fussing over and then he’s as easy as a cantankerous mule.”

  Zane laughed at her candor. He held out his elbow. “Would you care to take a walk with me, Miss Whitney?”

  “I’d be delighted.”

  Zane placed a protective hand over hers, holding his elbow in close once they emerged to walk the quarterdeck. He could feel her ease with him, her confidence, in the way she glided alongside, in their idle chitchat. Her guard was down. She trusted herself with him and that boasted him with higher regard. Her protector, a post with a certain perquisite he relished.

  Maybe one more romp before they entered Jamaican waters.

  *****

  The pistol hanging from Zane’s red sash rubbed against Lianna’s hip with each step. ’Twas a constant reminder her escort was a very dangerous man. The feel of the hard metal flooded her thoughts of something else belonging to him that was solid. Her body reacted, a sensation tingling between her legs, to the hot memory of the night before. What she wouldn’t give for another night with Zane.

  But it wasn’t to be. For now, she would just bask in his company and treasure his memory. She inhaled his salted earthiness mingled with the humid air and sighed. Besides, she had far run her course on happiness this voyage.

  Chills raced along Lianna’s spine, sensing eyes upon her back. She stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” Zane asked.

  She turned around and froze, alarmed to see half of the crew banded together scowling at her. Uh-oh. What did I do this time? There was no telling.

  Zane frowned. “What is the meaning of this?” His elbow dropped and he moved instinctively in front of her. He perched his hand on the hilt of his sword. The gesture was one of command, of undoubted respected leadership. His crew had been a loyal bunch and there would be no need of drawing his sword. But should he need to, she was sure he wouldn’t hesitate.

  “The wench.” The weathered sea dog, John, called out. “She be the reason the sea be stilled.”

  “Aye.” Another seaman in the back of the mass of rogues agreed. “We be damned for keepin’ ’er.”

  “I don’t fancy a poppet sendin’ me to me death,” another called.

  Lianna peeked around Zane’s shoulder. She was stunned to hear these men, some of whom she had become acquainted with, deemed her the reason for the lack of wind. She hadn’t anything to do with the doldrums. Being out in the sun too long obviously made them a little cracked. She glanced up to see Zane’s profile. His jaw worked fiercely with tension.

  “I don’t reckon I like ’er bein’ here,” said another.

  Bull towered at the back of the crowd. His satisfied smirk sharpened her understanding of how thorny the briar patch of her troubles had become.

  Jaq stepped forward. “We been talkin’, Capt’n. Seems to us that we need the sea’s bounty. We needin’ to lighten the load.” He cocked his chin in Lianna’s direction. “If’n ye know what we mean.
”

  Voices of the men rose into unified hollering, calling for Lianna’s removal. Panic assailed her lungs. The mob wanted to toss her overboard. They could overrun Zane. What would they do to him? Would they kill him, too?

  “You fools!” Zane snorted, his eyes inflamed, kneading the grip to his sword. “You scurvy, ignorant fools! This woman has nothing, nothing, to do with your fate. But I sure the hell do! What man aboard this ship has not experienced the uncertainty of the ocean? What man aboard this ship has not suffered the cruelty of a seaman’s life? What man on board my ship has been wronged by my direction?” He emphasized his words with the pounding of his fist to his chest.

  Other crewmen gathered around the disorderly uprising, not to miss the goings-on. Blade joined his captain by his side, as his position and honor warranted him. He, too, poised for a mutiny. The large black man, Sam, stood at the forefront. He locked eyes with Zane and nodded, showing his support should there be an uprising.

  “Step forward, I say!” Spittle flung from Zane’s lips. “Step forward, those of you who dare say my judgment, my leadership, has failed you!” His face had become deep red. “STEP FORWARD!”

  The men exchanged apprehensive glances at one another. No one was stupid enough to challenge their captain. Almost no one.

  Sadie moved to the front, her feet planted wide, her fists on her hipbones. Her chocolate hair had been braided down her back but loose strands matted her damp face. Sweaty from her duties, she still displayed a feminine intensity that would be the envy of any woman or man. Her beauty and courage exuded from her every pore.

  Lianna had that nagging jealous feeling again. That was, until Sadie spoke.

  “Captain Fox,” Sadie began. “The crew’s grievances are not unfounded. Your ladyship has been a great distraction. Perhaps you should set your pride aside and recognize your duty as master and appease your men. Perhaps place her in the brig until we dock.” She turned to the crewmen behind her. “A compromise might satisfy the sea enough to set us on our way again.”