Justified Treason (Endless Horizon Pirate Stories, Book 1) (5 page)

She made a silly thinking face as if’n she might ‘ave better plans, but she responded with a sweet little laugh. “Of course I will go with you.”

Then she tugged at the flimsy fabric of her nightgown and asked, “What shall I wear on an outing with a man like you?”

I raised an eyebrow as I touched the frilly neckline on her dress, and as me fingertips brushed across her chest, I felt a surprising buzz of electricity. Something ‘bout knowing that I shouldn’t be touchin’ her made me want to touch her more.

A bashful rouge tinted the porcelain skin beneath her light freckles, and her full lips curved into a shy smile. I liked the way I could make her blush so easily, and I got so distracted by the fire burning between us that I almost forgot to answer her question. While shaking me head, I chuckled, “I like this dress just fine, beauty. No one will be where we be going. Plus it be lookin’ more flexible than those other pretty dresses ye wear.”

She giggled, “I actually look forward to changing into these gowns every night. Those gigantic dresses may be pretty but they are heavy and uncomfortable.”

Grabbin’ her hand, I tugged her over to the rail, and I asked, “Is anyone in this room below us?”

“It’s the music room; no one will be in there at night,” she replied.

I hopped over the rail, tied me rope around the post, then picked her up and wrapped her legs around me. I told her to hold on as I repelled down the side of the building, and she struggled to silence her girlish giggling ‘til we hit the ground. I tugged me rope off the rail and tucked it neatly in me bag, and she whispered, “That was so much fun, Sterling. What could possibly be next?”

I lifted my eyebrows to entice her. “Somethin’ ye’ll never forget.”

I led her down to the beach. The moon had not quite made its way over the mountains, so the scene was rather dark, but as me eyes adjusted, the sand became lighter, and the intense contrast of white sand against the darkened sea clearly led the way. I reached over to grab her hand and we talked about many things as we walked along. She wasn’t just nice to look at, she made for good conversation too.

Once the beach swooped around the west edge of the island, the shore angled to the north, where rugged cliffs arose from the sea. I stopped her in front of a little stream that flowed out of the forest and into the ocean
. Standing thar with her, I watched the way she eyed the moonlight reflecting off the water that ran across the sand. She looked up from the scene and grabbed me arm as she gasped, “I have never come this far down the beach, Sterling. It is beautiful here.”

I was stunned by her confession. “Ye kidding me? This be like ye own backyard. I can’t believe ye never been here.”

“I told you I am trapped like a princess in the castle’s highest tower, but I know the world is full of beautiful places and I want to see them all.”

She made me want to show h
er the world. Takin’ both her hands in mine, I enticed, “Maybe one day I’ll get to take ye somewhere, Charlotte.”

She smiled as she asked, “Where would you take me first?”

I wanted to inspire her wandering imagination. “Thar be a little island not far from here that’s lined with secret coves and laced with stunning waterfalls. Then maybe we could head across the Spanish Main and out over the Atlantic…”

She had her eyes closed to visualize the journey and I kissed her on her cheek. She opened her eyes with an awestruck expression, but I had to stop meself thar. I pulled her by the hand and led her up the line of the stream into the darkened forest.

The moon had crested the mountain and gave light through the branches as she followed me lead. She held her white dress up with one hand, while she let me guide her along by the other. I don’t think she wanted to get dirty, but as we walked through puddles, crunched over wet leaves, and hopped over fallen branches, the muddy colors of nature made their marks on her dress.

The path ascended, and I veered to the left to take her to a clearing where I
knew she would love the view. The light of the moon danced on the surface of a shimmering blue lagoon that was surrounded by shrubs, trees, and boulders. A steep rock face protruded out of the far end of the pond, and a streaming waterfall flowed over the edge of it. The waterfall was beaming white in the moonlight and the whole picture certainly had a magical glow to it.

As she took in the view she tugged at me arm and exclaimed, “
Sterling, this is unreal. Am I dreaming of a fairytale? How did you ever find such a place?”

I led her to sit on a flat rock beside me and told her the story. “As ye know, I been sailing all me life, but I started me time on deck slaving away with the mindless work of swabbing decks and caulking planks. Well, me father’s navigator, Kinley, took a liking to me and insisted that I was fit to be more than a cabin boy, so between chores, he taught me the ways of the sea.

“Anyhow, on the trip that led us here, Kinley had fallen ill and we had lost our bearings as he drifted off. Captain Bentley and his crew were all exhausted from dehydration, so I took what Kinley had taught me and attempted to find our way. By watchin’ the clouds and using the tools I figured our place on the map and told the captain how we’d be getting to shore. I’ll never forget when I saw the highest peak of this waterfall through the spyglass. I don’t know if I was more thrilled that I’d be drinking water soon, or that I had just scouted a shore on me own.”

“That is spectacular, Sterling. I love that story. I have always wanted a spyglass. Do you have one?
” She inquired with a jolly smile.

“Of course I do. I prefer to keep a spyglass and a compass with me at all times.” I answered as I pulled a silky cloth out of me duffle and unwrapped me prize possessions.

I showed her the spyglass, as well as the compass and told her all about them. As she admired the pieces I informed her, “Thar be plenty of other tools but I don’t need to be draggin’ them around. Plus, I never know what tools any certain ship will ‘ave, and that be why Kinley taught me the basics by eye and how to get the most out of the simplest pieces. So I can get where I need to be getting no matter what I ‘ave or don’t. I can even dead reckon a course if’n I need to.”

She looked confused so I explained. “That means I can find me way across the sea without a map. See, I been studying maps for so long that I ‘ave a good grasp on the world around me with or without one. When I was young, Captain Bentley and Kinley had captured a Spanish Waggoner, that be a book of intricate shoreline maps and directions. Them bloody Spanish would rather throw those books into Davy Jones’ Locker before they let them fall into the hands of a buccaneer, so once Kinley got ahold of that book, he handled it as the most precious treasure he ever found. He would spend long hours showing me how to study the maps, and we would compare the shores as we neared them. I would draw the shorelines as we studied and he taught me how to mark the measurements and chart the routes along the way.

“So to dead reckon, ye figure yer position compared by speed, time, and course from the last position while keeping a diligent watch on the compass, the winds, and currents. Ye ‘ave to have a strong grasp on the elements and even though I do, thar be plenty of room for error. It be a rare and useful skill that has saved me life more than once. See, no one can steal a map that be charted in yer mind.”

“What an impressive talent.” She looked so excited. “Where are your father and Kinley now?”

“Kinley died shortly after I found this place and Captain Bentley was stabbed and died in a battle near Panama years ago. I remember them and what they taught me every day. Especially Kinley. It be his lessons that gave me better ranking amongst me crew, and made it so I don’t ‘ave to swab decks anymore.”

After I laughed ‘bout the truth in my statement, I swooped her up in me arms and acted like I was gonna throw her in the water. “Let’s go for a swim.”

She squealed and laughed as she held onto me neck, but within her amusement she shrieked, “I can’t swim.”

Of course she couldn’t swim. I set her down, and after she straightened her nightgown she picked up a fallen tree branch, wielded it like a sword, and challenged, “You should teach me to fight like a buccaneer, so I can be tough like you.”

I picked up a branch of me own and as we crossed blades I informed her, “Ye know, thar be a few lady pirates out thar. Ye fancy to be one of them?”

She circled around me with her stick. “Oh yes. I always liked stories about Charlotte De Berry. Perhaps I will stow away like she did. Lead a mutiny, take charge of the crew, and plunder me some Spanish gold.”

I parried her thrust and teased, “But ye ‘ave to be strong and fearless.” I then let her force my stick out of the way and when she held the tip to my chest, she raise a wicked eyebrow and looked like a saucy war goddess as she asserted, “Don’t forget fierce and relentless.”

I smiled. “Aye, ye becoming even more enticing to me, Charlotte.”

I taught her to keep her footing, angle the blade, and shield her vitals, and she seemed as thrilled by the lesson as I was thrilled with teaching her. After fighting for a while, we were both short of breath and sat on the flat rock to cool down.

I winked at her as I complimented, “Not bad for yer first time, matey.” Then I concluded, “The most important thing to remember is to fight with yer mind. Thar be many strong, bloodthirsty men across those seas, but a great deal of them are merely skilled with brute. Ye got to be like King David out thar in battle. He was young and his family doubted him, but it was only a slingshot he killed Goliath with. It is not ‘bout size but mind.”

Charlotte told me she was pleased by me knowledge of the Holy Bible. I was sure she must ‘ave thought I was just another lawless savage so I clarified, “I know me way around the Good Book, ‘bout well as I know the seas. Me father’s clergyman, Jeremiah, taught me how to read, and I spent as much time studying the words of the Bible as I did working on me maps.”

She looked charmed by me answer and poked at the hilt of me cutlass. “You also seem to be well skilled with your sword. Have you been in many battles?”

I downsized my brutalities by simply answering, “Quite a few.”

Then that wild curiosity that gleamed in her eyes brightened as she asked, “Do you have any scars?”

I lifted the side of me coat and pulled me shirt out from under me waistcoat and belts to show her me worst one. Thar was enough moonlight for her to see the long welted wound that slashed across me left side and curved up me back. I couldn’t help but chuckle at her awkward expression. She looked as intrigued by me wound as she looked abashed by my brazen display of skin.

I covered meself back up so she could relax and told her how I acquired it. “Happened during a fight in
Panama, and of course it was a damn Spanish blade that ripped me open. It ‘appened shortly after I turned seventeen.”

Her face lowered as she shyly inquired, “In Panama? You said your father died there. Did you get that scar on th
e same day?”

I never fancied to speak of the details, so I quickly confirmed that it was indeed the same day, then changed the subject. “I got plenty more scars with plenty more stories. Do ye ‘ave any?”

She looked at her perfect white arms and giggled, “Not really. My life has been so boring compared to yours. How have you survived all these wild adventures?”

“Keepin’ me weapons clean, me muscles hard, and me wit keen. I also be particular on the crews I’ll sail with. I’d like to say I sail for freedom, but it still comes by the cost of blood. Though I do ‘ave me limits, I’m not quite sure if ye could call them morals, because when it comes a means to survive, I will fight, plunder, and commandeer as necessary. A matey needs his pieces of eight to enjoy a mug of ale and that warm meal ye know I fancy. Savvy?”

I cocked an eyebrow and smiled while I anticipated her reaction to me blatant admittance of piracy.

Her own delicate eyebrow lifted slyly and she suggestively smiled back at me. Holy shipwreck! What kind of woman did I ‘ave on me hands here?

I wanted to kiss her. I wasn’t sure if I would scare her like I did last night, or if’n she would like it the way she liked me pirate stories. She riddled me soul like no woman ever had, and I had no idea which side of her duality I should aim to please. 

Before I had a chance to decide on me impulse, I heard a ruffle in the bushes up the trail. I demanded her to silence with my eyes and saw the fear in hers as we listened to the group of men
who were coming down the trail. With a slow but mighty force I pushed her down to hide between the flat rock and a shrub, and evinced me cutlass while I waited to see who was coming.

As the voices came closer, me tension released. I started to chuckle and
Charlotte impatiently whispered, “Why in the world are you laughing?”

“It’s me hearties. I wonder what the hell they be doing up here.”

She let out a sigh of relief and I saw her giggling too as she listened to them slur and insult each other.

“Ye land lubbin bilge rats wouldn’t know the way to shore if’n I beat it outta ye.”

“Just wait ‘til me rum’s gone. Ye’ll be havin’ this empty bottle against yer empty head.”

The laughin’ drunks might ‘ave been me mates, but I knew I could get shot if I startled them, so I decided to make a game of it. From the corner we hid in, I took me hat off and covered me mouth with it to muffle me voice, and called for Faron Flynn with a ghostly bellow.