by Sarah West
Soon, the flurry of activity quieted down, as the men settled into their appointed tasks. Most of them ignored her as they climbed up and down the rigging or scrubbed the decks, and she did her part to ignore them too.
It wasn’t hard, considering the circumstances. At long last she was back on a ship, plowing through the blue waters of the Atlantic, the salty spray cool on her face, the rhythmic lapping of the waves against the hull soothing her stressed body. She untied the ribbon around her throat and pulled the hat from her head, then yanked the pins from her hair one by one until it fell about her shoulders and curled around her neck, whipping about in the wind. For the first time since her mother’s death she felt at ease.
She had no desire to go back inside; instead she retrieved a book from her cabin and settled on the main deck to read, leaning against a pile of rope with her skirts spread around her. The shoreline had long disappeared from sight when a loud cough caused her to look up, shielding her eyes. Standing above her was a tall, burly seaman, obviously uncomfortable.
“I’ma be needing that rope there, missus,” he told her, careful not to look her in the eye as he spoke. With an apology she leapt to her feet, surrendering her backrest. The sun was well overhead by now, and she leaned over the railing with her arms crossed, clutching her book against her chest. She took a deep breath, letting the salty air wash over her, when she felt again as if she were being watched.
She dropped her book, and as she bent down to pick it up she covertly looked around. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lyle, the wind flapping at his greasy hair as he scowled at her. She turned back to the ocean and ignored him, hoping he would go away. The minutes dragged on before she felt him turn his attention to something else.
“Matthew you incompetent fool! Can’t you do anything right?” She winced. Lyle’s voice was oily and cruel, and she wrapped her shawl more tightly about herself to ward off the sudden chill. She felt bad for Matthew, whoever he was. She was debating going inside to escape the discomfort she felt around the first mate when she noticed something floating in the water.
At first she thought it was just a piece of driftwood bobbing on the waves, but as it drew closer she realized it was a few planks of wood, probably from the side of a ship, crudely fastened together. And sprawled on top of it was the unmoving body of a boy.
“Captain, come quickly!” she cried, straining to see if the person was alive.
“Miss Amber? What seems to be the—” She cut him off by pointing to the raft. “Good Lord, man overboard! Quickly men, haul him up!”
The sailors jumped to obey and in minutes had the small boy on the deck, sputtering and coughing water as they pushed on his stomach. Captain Watson took the wool blanket a sailor offered him and dropped it about the boy’s shoulders as he struggled to sit up.
“Can you tell me your name, lad?”
“Johnny, sir,” he replied, looking about him. His eyes lit upon Amber and widened, his jaw dropping in surprise. “S’cuse me, Cap’n, but don’t you know its awful bad luck to have a woman on board a ship?”
He ignored the comment. “Johnny, is it? Can you tell me how you got to be floating on a raft in the Atlantic Ocean?”
“Well sir, I was serving as the cabin boy on the merchant ship Seabreeze, when we was attacked by pirates!” This brought a gasp from the crew. The boy continued, encouraged by their responses. “Aye, pirates. They took my Cap’n aside and demanded to know where he had stored all the goods, and when he refused to tell them, they split him open, spilling his guts all over the deck!” He waved his hands about, excited to have captured the attention of such a large audience. “Then they slaughtered the crew, took everything of value, and burned the ship. I escaped only because they didn’t notice me, and managed to stay afloat on a piece of the wreckage.”
Captain Watson shuddered, but Amber remained nonplussed. “I’ve not heard many stories of pirates this far north. Do you know the name of the pirate Captain, or his ship?”
The boy nodded quickly. “Aye, I’ll not be forgetting that ship. A giant frigate, she was, three giant masts, with huge square sails. I counted at least forty guns, and that was only on the port side. It was crewed by over sixty bloodthirsty pirates, armed to the teeth with cutlass and pistol, aching to get their filthy hands on our cargo. The name, I recall, was the Imperial Shadow, the Captain being called el Tigre.”
The crew had gone deathly still, color draining from their faces. One sailor crossed himself.
“I assume you’ve heard of this el Tigre, Captain Watson?” Amber asked.
“Aye,” he spat, “el Tigre is a ruthless killer, the scourge of the seas. He’ll take down any ship, paying no heed or mercy to the men on board. You best be hopin’ we don’t come across him; I hate to think about what he’d do to a pretty young lass like yourself.”
Johnny decided to offer his opinion on the matter. “I know what he’d do. First he’d rip off her clothes, and then he’d—”
“That’s enough, Johnny,” the Captain cut him off. “Now, you must be chilled to the bone. How long were you floating out there?”
“I can’t say for sure, I wasn’t awake for the most of it. But I reckon it was at least two days, maybe three.”
“Three days? Well, you’re lucky to have found us, lucky indeed. Come, we’ll get you below deck and find you warm clothes, then fill your belly.” He looked to Amber as he placed a hand on the boy’s back, leading him to the stairs. “Is it all right if young Johnny joins us for lunch? Cameron was going to serve us on the forecastle, seeing as how it looks to be a mild afternoon.”
“I have no objections,” she assured him. With a spring in her step she strolled over to the railing, where her book lay on the deck. She scooped it up, careful to mark her page, then went downstairs to her cabin, shut the door and opened a trunk. She had a sudden urge to change into her blue satin gown, because it better seemed to fit her adventurous mood, and would be warmer than her plain cotton dress.
She cursed under her breath as she struggled to lace the back of her gown by herself, wishing she had brought along a maid. She had her arms crossed, pulling on the laces and wondering how she was going to tie it, when someone knocked on the door.
“Come in,” she instructed, and Captain Watson entered, turning back towards the door when he saw her.
“I’m sorry, I can return later.”
“Captain, you’re just the man I was hoping to see! If you would just tie this for me,” she presented her back to him. Making sure the door was closed, he approached her and tightened the laces, then made a bow.
“You’re getting awfully dressed up for a simple lunch with the crew, Miss Amber.”
She turned to him with a smile. “I was feeling impulsive, and besides, this seemed like the perfect dress in which to meet pirates.” She twirled her skirts theatrically.
His face darkened. “’Tis not a laughing matter, that el Tigre. I shudder just thinking about him.” Amber sobered. Though she found the situation exciting, she supposed that a hardened sailor was probably more wary of pirates then a girl whose only experience with them was through books.
“Are we ready?” she asked him, changing the subject and holding out her arm.
He took it with a smile, and led her above deck.
Later that night, a ship sat far off in the distance, cloaked in darkness. A figure, inconspicuously dressed in black, stood on the sterncastle deck watching the Queen Charlotte through a brass telescope. The moon provided sufficient light to see the merchant vessel, and he could feel the familiar excitement rising in his gut as he thought about the following day.
He called his quartermaster over and asked for a report.
“Well, Captain, most of the men are already asleep, minus of course the ones who have night duty, and everyone is chomping at the bit for some action. We’ve already tied half her sails up, but the wind is in our favor and we’ve set a straight course towards the other ship. They should be spotting us any minute now
, if they haven’t already.”
The tall Captain smiled, a row of white teeth visible in the darkness. “Perfect. And the flag?”
“To anyone else we are just a large, merchant vessel, sailing under the great country of England,” he said, looking up at the Union Jack, flapping in the breeze.
“A very large, mean-looking trade ship, but nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Except for the guns.”
The Captain shrugged, his smile widening. “By the time they are close enough to see the gun ports, it will already be too late.”
The quartermaster laughed and slapped him on the back. “Aye, Captain. Or should I say: el Tigre.” This caused both men to laugh heartily, as the Imperial Shadow bobbed in the surf.
Amber awoke at first light, a ray of which entered though the cabin windows, landing directly upon her face. She groaned and thought to turn over, then decided she might as well get up. With a yawn she swung her feet over the side of the bed and reached for the blue dress she had worn the night before, deciding against wrinkling another so soon. Besides, many of her other gowns would be even more difficult to lace or button by herself, and she dare not ask Captain Watson for more help in that matter.
Indeed, the previous evening he avoided looking at her for too long, though many sailors had shamelessly regarded her low cut dress with much admiration. The meal itself had been uneventful, disappointing both Amber and the young boy.
Several times Johnny attempted in vain to bring up topics of conversation not suited for the dinner table, especially one that included the company of a lady, though Amber seemed to be the most willing to listen. The third time he mentioned pirates however, the Captain went very red in the face as he clutched his fork in anger, his knuckles turning white. Amber, wishing to avoid arousing his temper any further, decided to ask the boy questions about himself.
He had answered them all obediently, though many of his responses caused Amber to question his truthfulness. She did not believe for one second that he was only eleven years old, for he was almost as tall as she was and she could make out the light markings of facial hair on his chin and cheeks. His voice, too, was much too deep for a boy of eleven, though she believed he tried to mask it by speaking higher, even cracking it convincingly. He also seemed to hesitate before answering questions about his past, as if he were thinking hard about his response.
In fact, the only thing that he seemed to speak freely about was the pirate attack, a subject that was not far from the minds of anyone present. Amber had thought about it a great deal herself as she settled into her cabin for the night, reading by candlelight until she was tired enough to sleep.
The subject came to mind again as she struggled into her dress, but was forgotten as she worked out a way to lace it herself. Bending her arms behind her she was able to tighten the ribbons almost all the way to the top, and then by pulling her shoulder blades back and sticking out her chest she succeeded in tying a knot, crooked as it may have been. It was also a bit too snug, she realized as she stood straight up and attempted to take a deep breath, but rather than wrestle with it any more she decided to leave it.
She stopped in the galley to grab an apple before emerging on deck. Despite the early hour, men were already going about their duties, and Amber was looking for a quiet place to sit when she noticed a ship off the starboard side.
She followed it with her eye as she located the Captain, who stood with his spyglass extended in the direction of the ship. He glanced at Amber as she came next to him, and then returned to his telescope.
“We spotted her a little before midnight,” he told her solemnly.
“Is she anything to worry about?”
“I don’t think so. She’s flying British colors, and is sailing at half speed,” he said, indicating that only half of the sails were unfurled. “Likelihood is she’s just a merchant ship, same as us. Still, we’re going to keep an eye on her.”
Amber bit into her apple and squinted at the other ship. “Looks like she’s heading straight towards us,” she noted, swallowing and taking another bite.
“Aye, ‘tis a bit odd, but nothing to be alarmed about, I’m sure.”
Amber finished her apple and threw the core into the surf. Then she settled on a barrel to read, though she kept peering over the edge of her book to mark the location of the mysterious ship, which continued to draw closer. It was only a mile away when a shot rang out.
Amber jumped to her feet and ran to the side of the boat where the Captain stood, his face suddenly distraught. “Are they firing at us?”
“That was a warning shot.” His voice was grave as he watched with concern.
“But why would they…” she trailed off as the other ship seemed to burst into action. Simultaneously, all sails dropped and filled with wind, at the same time as the Union Jack was lowered and replaced with the ominous black Jolly Roger. “Pirates!” she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in surprise. “Can we outrun them?”
But the Captain was already shouting orders to his men to let down the topsails on the mizzen and main and to throw anything over that could be spared. He was rushing to help the crew when he stopped and spun on his heel. “Miss Townsend, I’m sorry, but your trunk filled with books—”
He was cut off mid-sentence as Lyle burst from the hatch, dragging the young boy by his hair. “I found him below, disabling the tiller. The rudder is useless now.” He shoved Johnny to the deck, but he quickly bounded to his feet again with a leer.
“It’s too late, anyhow,” he told them with a shrug “You can’t outrun the Imperial Shadow, even if you had a working rudder and a two day head start. Look!” Sure enough, the pirate ship was almost upon them.
The Captain was shaking with fury. “Throw him in the brig, and make sure to lock it, then bring out the coffer of pistols.” Lyle was happy to dole out the punishment, and to the rest of the crew the Captain barked, “Men, prepare to fight.”
“Captain, shouldn’t we surrender? Surely we cannot hold them off,” Amber shouted, trying to be heard above the cries of the crew.
“Miss Townsend, get below deck, now! Lock yourself in my cabin, and don’t leave until I tell you it’s safe.” She tried to protest but he shoved her in the direction of the stairs and went back to shouting commands to his men. Amber did as she was told with reluctance, and locked the door behind her as she entered the cabin and began pacing, anxiously listening for anything that might tell her what was happening on deck. She heard nothing but the activity of the crew preparing for the attack, and then a large bang, followed by a sickening cracking sound, which she could only assume was the mast toppling over.
She could scarcely catch her breath, mostly due to nervousness, but in part because her bodice was so constricting. She would have to find a knife to cut herself from her dress. Hastily pulling open the top dresser drawer she tried her best to block out the sounds of gunshots, and metal striking metal as the pirates boarded the ship and began fighting the crew. The top drawer contained nothing but a compass and a pair of breeches. She slammed it shut and opened the second.
The noise was getting louder as she rummaged through that drawer, still finding nothing. Panicked now, she threw open the third, where, underneath a folded shirt, she found a pistol. She was pulling it out when she heard two men descending the stairs, and she could tell by their voices that neither of them were members of the Queen Charlotte’s crew.
“Ah, this must be the Cap’n’s quarters, not that he’ll be needing them anymore,” said one of the men, eliciting a laugh from the other.
“I say we have a look around, see what he’s hiding’ in there.”
Amber held her breath as the door jiggled.
“Locked?” this came from the first pirate, with an eager chuckle. “Must mean he’s got somethin’ of value in there!”
“Stand aside, Buck,” the second commanded.
With shaking hands, Amber cocked the pistol and pointed it toward the door, just as it splinter
ed open.
Chapter Four
From his stance on the quarterdeck of the Imperial Shadow, the tall pirate Captain surveyed the scene. The sound of striking steel rang clear on the deck of the Queen Charlotte as the battle wore on. Sailors and pirates alike lay bleeding, though the number of pirates injured was far less. Though the fighting continued, the Captain could tell that the sailors were growing weary, and he knew that the struggle was drawing to a close.
Checking to ensure that his hat was in place, he straightened his black coat and strode to the side of the ship. He felt a familiar rush of adrenaline, and his hand automatically moved to the leather baldric around his waist, his fingers resting on his pistol. As he quelled his boyish excitement, he climbed to the railing and jumped down onto the smaller boat, which lay flush against the warship’s side, pulled tight and secured with grappling lines.
He glanced around him and with a curse noticed the body of Daniel, the ship’s carpenter, lying face down in a puddle of blood. He was bending over to turn the body when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.
With lightning reflexes he pulled out his cutlass and spun around, burying it to the hilt in his attacker’s abdomen. Surprise registered on the man’s dark face as he glanced down at the blood pouring out of the fatal wound in his stomach, his sword slipping from his hands and landing on the deck with a clang. With a gurgle he fell to his knees, swayed, then collapsed at the Captain’s feet.
Looking up, the Captain saw he had gained the attention of everyone on board. “Tie them up,” he instructed with a nod at his men as he retrieved his cutlass and proceeded to clean it on the breeches of the dead sailor. He stood and replaced it at his belt, then glanced around at the pale faces staring at him in fear. “Unless anyone else would like to take their chances with me?” The remaining sailors were quickly gathered and bound, their hands tied in front of them.