Jaded Tides (The Razor's Adventures Pirate Tales) (18 page)

BOOK: Jaded Tides (The Razor's Adventures Pirate Tales)
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“So I suppose you’re asking yourself why I was dressed as I was this afternoon,” I said as I handed him his mug across the table and escaped the tart by bobbing and weaving my way around her swaying hips.

“I did ask, but you no answer,” he responded, looking at me over the rim of the cup.

“Why do you think I was dressed that way?” I leaned forward.

“It is obvious that you are, in fact, not a man but a woman. What more can I say to this?”

“And yet you obeyed me and came with me?” I squinted as I drew towards him, and the smoke from the small lantern between us curled around my face. He took another drink, and then another, looking up at me between each gulp. “Well?”

“As a man, you fight very well. You work as hard and…” He stopped, leaning towards me. I assumed it was because he didn’t want to be overheard. “I don’t know. I work with you for many months. I sail with you, and I wonder how such a boy can be so many things. I ask myself, can a woman be all of this and still be a woman? What woman wants to be a man? But here you are, and no matter what you are, you say Mick do this and do that, and I do it.”

“What you’re telling me is, it doesn’t worry you that I’m not a man?”

“Oh,” he laughed. “In my village, many women are more a man than the men, but you, Ivan, or whatever you call yourself, are more man than so many men I have known.” He lifted his mug to me in toast and took a long last drink. “I am curious of you, though. Why?”

“It’s a very long story, which we do not have time to discuss. However, for your loyalty, I will disclose one very important fact to you which might cause you some concern.” His thick black eyebrows raised, and he swept his straight black hair back and away from his face. “I am the wife of your Captain.”

“My Captain?” He laughed. “He is both our Captain.”

Strangely, Rasmus hadn’t crossed my mind since I found out about Francis and Fin. Perhaps a better place to have started would have been the
Jade.
I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of finding him first, and I became frustrated and full of self-doubt. I was also completely silent for I don’t know how long, as my mind bent around my own stupidity. Oh, why did I always have to fly off on my own inclinations and not once consider the man I loved? 

   “Ivan, Ivan?” I heard Mick’s voice, at last, over my own screaming thoughts. “We should go back to the horses, no? To see if the boy has found them?”

I snatched my hat from the table and slammed it on my head as I led him from the tavern and out into the crowded street of the evening. My head turned at every dark-haired woman I saw. I pulled on their shoulders to turn them to me and found myself making a few people angry as I went. Mick shoved off several of their escorts with threats as I tugged at their lady’s arm, but now, almost three hours into our search, we were no better off than when we’d arrived.

“The sun sets. We must hurry,” Mick said as we rushed onward until we, at last, came upon the stable. I sighed with relief at the sight of the boy.

“Well, boy?” I panted, catching my breath.

A smile grew across his filthy freckled face, and he laid out his open hand to me for more coin.

“Mick, ready the horses,” I said and snatched the boy by the arm and pulled him aside.

“Wait a damn minute, mister! There ain’t no need ta rough me up!” he screeched at me, jerking away. “And ye don’t need them horses. They’s right there at the
Windy.”

“What?” I turned and looked across the street at the weather-beaten sign on the front of the building and read it in the setting sun. “You mean this inn? The Windy?” I asked, pointing at it.

“Tha’s what I said, ain’t it?” he answered with a grimace, throwing his scrawny arms up. I looked over at Mick and watched as he tied the horses back off and checked his weapons.

“How did you find them?” I asked, pulling him towards me.

“Ha! How’s ‘bout the coin?”

“How?” I growled down into his smug face, wrenching the front of his shirt into my fist.

“The Windy always gets the new girls! E’rybody knows that. Now let me go, ye Devil!”

Remembering Fin’s former activities, an infuriated calm came over me, and I slowly unclenched my fist and released him. “You’ve done well, lad. So, this Windy; tell me what you know.”

“Full a’ fresh whores and pirates and their ilk. It’s fer the fancy ones like cap’ns and the like, with lots a money, cause them lassies is fresh off the boat. I heard ‘em say it all the time. ‘Let’s go see what the wind blew in.’ Hey, you’s pirates, too?” He asked, taking a step back. “I ain’t lookin’ fer no trouble with the likes a’ you. Just pay me, and I’ll be on me way.”

“I’ll pay you, but you’ll have to wait until I get back to my ship. Wait here and watch these horses, and when we’re through, I’ll give you a dollar.”

“A what? I knows you’s pirates fer sure, now. I shoulda known straight off and run fer me neck, but I was scared ye’d carve me up if’n ye found me.”

I stepped slowly towards him and took his chin in my hand. “Are you an orphan, lad?”

“I ain’t no damn orphan. I don’t need nobody, and I sure as hell won’t once ye pay me that dollar.”

“How’d you like to be a sailor on a ship?”

“What do ye take me fer, a fool?” He shook free of my hand and backed away again. “I ain’t tryin’ ta have no dirty pirate use me fer some filthy cabin boy. I heard all about that sort, and I ain’t ‘avin’ no shitty pirate scum stickin’ his cock in my ass!”

“Good God, you bloody little shit, shut your hole. Nobody’s going to stick anything anywhere. Just stay here and mind these horses until we return.” I waved Mick on, and we walked to the front of the inn and stepped inside.

The lobby was well decorated, yet like the Red Anchor, everything was old and worn. Fancy velvet sofas and floral lampshades on round end tables adorned the lobby, and to our left, behind a dark wood counter, stood a finely dressed innkeeper writing in a register. We could hear people moving above us upstairs but there was no one else in the lobby. When Mick closed the door, a bell rattled, drawing the man’s eyes to us from his work.

“May I assist you gentlemen?” he asked over a tight-lipped smile. “Welcome to the Windy Inn.” His black eyebrows appeared to be oiled, as did his silver mustache. The ends were swept neatly into upturned points, and his silver hair was combed cleanly back over his long ears.

“How many girls do you have working here?” I asked, leaning my forearm on the counter and tapping my fingers. I stared with a hardened gaze into his pale blue eyes and watched as his pupils began to grow.

“We have many fine young ladies, sir. Are you looking for someone in particular?” he asked, resting his hands on the edge of the counter in front of him. Again, he smiled.

“I saw a fellow bringing a fine looking young woman in here earlier; dark hair, big dark eyes. Know her?” I asked, never breaking my gaze. It became an amusement for me to watch every twitch of his cheek and quiver of his lips as he spoke.

“Ah, yes. A gentleman did arrive this morning with a very lovely dark-haired lass, but she isn’t available for visitors yet.” I watched as his right hand slid slowly beneath the counter.

I reached into the front pocket of my vest and pulled my razor out slowly, flipping it open. “That fellow is a friend of mine, Mister…?”

“My name really isn’t important, sir. I only work here.” The words breezed from his velvet tongue just as he produced a pistol from behind the counter. Before he could even point it in my direction, I lunged and laid open his throat with my razor, snatching the gun from his hand. He fell forward, slumping over the counter and holding on for his last moments alive, as the red river of his life drained into a puddle beneath his head, and his dead body’s weight pulled him backwards to the floor.

“You see?” Mick said as he turned away, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head.

I reached out and turned the register around and searched it for the name of anyone who’d signed it that day. “Here it is.” I stepped behind the counter and snatched the ring of keys from the dead man’s pocket and said, “When Diablo smiles at you, Mick, you don’t stand around and wait for him to skewer you with his pitchfork. Let’s go.”

“I thought you said you did not speak Spanish.”

TWENTY-ONE

ALL THINGS DONE IN THE DARKNESS

 

“I don’t speak Spanish, Mick. What did Valentina shout at me as we were leaving?” I asked him as we crept up the stairs to the landing where the rooms were.

“You mean the part about the Captain?” he answered in a whisper.

“Yes, yes. What did she say?”

“She said he’s going to be very angry with you.”

Upon hearing laughter and chatter, I stopped and fell back against the wall. “Angry with me? Why? I’m only doing what he would do given the same circumstances.”

“But do you know if he was given these circumstances as well?” Mick looked at me and reset his hat. Again, his raised dark brows gave me that look of knowing something I didn’t.

“If you’re trying to tell me something, you’d better spit it out now before you end up like that old pigeon-livered toad downstairs,” I growled at him through my teeth.

“You cannot kill me, Ivan. You will be left to this alone.  But to answer your question, you do not think this Valentina would not tell him, as she told you?”

“Sink me! That no good wench!” I ripped the hat from my soaked head and slapped it against my thigh so hard it stung like a swarm of wasps. “Damn her. Damn her big ass to hell.”

“Shhh. It did appear she was trying to tell you something.” He placed his forefinger to his lips and nodded up the stairs in an attempt to remind me where we were and what we were doing there.

“I told you, I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Well, I speak English well enough to know I hear a voice that sounds very much like the young lady named Francis.”

I leaned against the wall and continued climbing the stairs, taking careful steps so as not to cause a creak. When we reached the landing, I glanced right and left in search of room 202. Upon figuring out it was the first room to my right, I nodded to Mick and continued creeping until we stood just outside the door. I pressed my ear against it and listened.

“I don’t understand what all the fuss is about. I know what I’m doing. You can leave any time you choose!” I heard Francis shout at whoever was in the room with her.

“Ye don’t know what you’re doing, and the least ye can do after all we done for ye is give Valentina a chance.” I gasped and fell back against the wall to the right of the door. This was Rasmus’s voice. He was in there, trying to talk sense into her.

“What does it matter to you, anyway? I wasn’t taken away in chains from Virginia. Ha! I went willingly. I know the others didn’t, but I damn sure did. They promised me fine clothes, jewelry, and a good position in Port Royal at one of the best places on that island. Then you and your damn pirates had to come along and ruin it.”

“Ruin it? Lass, they held ye against your will. They kept ye in that dirty cell for weeks. Do ye really believe it will be better in Port Royal than that? If ye do, you’re as naive as a babe.”

“I only stayed in there with those little half-wits because I felt sorry for them; especially Edwina. They don’t belong here. Now why don’t you get back on your horse and tend to them, and leave me be.”

“Ye don’t mean that, lass.”

“Don’t mean it? Oh, I mean it as much as I’ve ever meant anything in my life. This is all I’m good for now. Hell, it’s all I’ve ever been good for, and I’ll prove it to you.”

During their exchange, I’d moved back and pressed my ear so hard against the door that sweat pooled around it and ran down my neck. The room fell silent but for what sounded like someone standing from a creaky old bed.

“Lass, you stay right where ye are, and don’t ye dare take that off, or I’ll turn ye over my knee.” Hearing Rasmus’s words, my mind whirled with thoughts of Francis trying to seduce my husband. The next thing I knew I was inside the room with my hands wrapped tightly around her neck, pinning her to the floor.

“Ivory, no!” Rasmus shouted at me, snatching me by one arm as he ordered Mick to take the other. Together, they pulled my hands free of her neck and yanked me to my feet. Francis hacked and coughed, rolling on the blue and white flowered rug at the foot of the bed, as Rasmus tied me up in his arms, holding me firm.

“You traitorous tart! I’ll kill you for this,” I shouted at her as Mick helped her to the bed.

“Ivory, calm down.  I was taking care of this,” Rasmus said, turning me to face him. He clutched me tightly by my arms and shook me until I stopped struggling against him. “I warned ye, lass. We can’t save them all.”

I stopped and lowered my head, resting my brow against his chest. I nodded and took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Razz. I didn’t know you were looking for them. Valentina was shouting at me in Spanish, and it wasn’t until Mick explained to me what she said did it make sense to me that you’d, of course, be looking for them.”

“I wasn’t looking for them for me, Ivory. I was looking for them for you. Remember back in Port Royal when we told ye some of the girls had run off in the night? We don’t chase them. We save the ones who want to be saved, and the rest…well, take a good a look, because that there is the other side of this business.”

“I’m sorry, Francis,’ I said, turning around to see her pulling her clothes back together.

“You should be sorry, you mixed-up hellcat. You had no right to put your hands on me again. Now my neck will be all bruised.” She stepped to the mirror on the dresser and examined the red marks I’d left on her.

“Oh, I’m not sorry for that. I’m sorry you’re who you are. You could have at least tried to go home. You could have at least given us all a chance.” The warmth of Rasmus’s hand when he rested it on my shoulder radiated through me, and I welcomed it like a calm sea.

“I’ve never had a chance. My whole life has been nothing but serving as some plaything for men since I grew these,” she cupped her breasts as she spoke. “You don’t know where I came from, or what my life has been. Get out of here, all of you.”

Rasmus squeezed my shoulder to signal me to go, and as I went, I turned back to her before closing the door and said, “If you change your mind, you know where to go.”

She never looked away from her own reflection in the mirror, and the three of us continued on until we reached the front door. “Wait,” Rasmus said, looking back at the blood that now ran from the counter where the innkeeper had stood. He tilted his head and looked at me from beneath his bushy red brows, and I nodded.

“He pulled this gun on me. It’s a nice one, too. Here, you can have it,” I said, handing him the pistol.

“Jesus, lass, you’ve pirate in your damn blood, don’t ye?” he asked, pushing me towards the open door.

I stopped and looked up at him. His blue eyes were burning me again, and the molten defeat I’d felt only moments before, transformed into solid rock. “You already know I do, but you’re in my blood, too, and don’t you forget it.”

 

“Mick, take that horse ye came here on and get back to the ship. Razor and I will find Fin,” Rasmus said as we headed back to Tomlin’s stable.

“Did Francis, by chance, happen to mention when she last saw him?” I asked.

“Yes,” was all he replied.

Once Mick was on his way, Rasmus led me to a tavern that was about a five minute walk from Tomlin’s and the Windy. It sat back in an alley and reminded me of the dank tavern where I’d had my first drink in Port Royal. The night was dark, and when we stepped inside, the atmosphere didn’t offer us much light. The place was small, as one would imagine an alley tavern would be. There were no more than ten round tables that seated two people, and the bar was perhaps twelve feet in length and seated six. There were no fancy drapes, no music, and no dancing whores to entertain. This was a place for eating, drinking, and sleeping… no more. At least, that was my perception.

“Sit here. I’ll see what they have in the way of food and drink,” he ordered, and I obeyed, taking my seat in a wobbly chair that appeared not to have been cleaned since it was first placed at the table. I wasn’t keen on eating anything that was cooked or prepared in this filthy hole, but I was starving, and the needs of my stomach outweighed my better judgement. There was no lantern on the table. Just a solitary white candle pressed with melted wax into an old pewter plate. I was grateful that it was at least lit.

“They’s been a murder at the Windy!” I overheard a scraggy old seaman say as he drug himself into the tavern on crutches and one barely good leg. I imagined his vocation was bringing news to the patrons along the alleyway taverns, as he didn’t stay, but only made his deathly announcement and carried on.

Rasmus came to the table with a plate of bread and some sort of stew that smelled surprisingly good. He set it down and pushed it in front of me. “Eat.”

“What about Fin?” I asked, tearing off a hunk of bread and dipping it in the stew.

“He’s upstairs,” he answered, pouring ale from a pitcher into his cup.

“Did Francis tell you he was here?”

“Let me fill my belly, and I’ll tell you what she told me.”

We sat, eating in silence. This meal was so far removed from our loving and jovial breakfast that I could scarcely recall what we ate. He didn’t look up at me. He didn’t make jokes or tell me funny stories to make me laugh. I struggled to keep from speaking between bites, and my mind ran wild with wonderings of what Francis had told him. I also kept my eye on the staircase near the back of the room. If Fin was, in fact, upstairs, there was no way in hell he was getting away.

“He isn’t going anywhere,” Rasmus said and took a long drink.

“Why are you drinking like that?”

“I’m thirsty. So…” he said, wiping his mouth and beard with his hand. “He’s hiding from the same sort he used to do business with, or so he believes. His intention was to snag Francis and bring her back, but she ran him off the same way she did me. Those who used to work with Barclay know Fin’s face, and they’ll cut it off if they think he’s turned on ‘em. There’d be too many questions he’d have to answer, and I don’t think he’s bright enough to lie. He’ll come back with us without a fight. He hasn’t anywhere else to go.”

“How did you know he was here?”

“I already spoke to him. I ran into him on his way out of the Windy. I sent him here. The owner over there, Jack Harper, and I are old mates. He was one of my crew aboard the
Majesty’s Venture.
I told Fin to give Jack my name, and he’d put him up until I got here.”

“Well, as always, you’ve handled things well.”

“Perhaps if you’d take notice of exactly how I handle things instead of running amok on a head of steam, we wouldn’t need to get the hell out of Nassau as soon as possible.”

“But I had no choice. You don’t understand…”

“What I understand is you’ve much to learn about leading. Ye want to lead, and it’s in ye, little Razor, but until you start to pay some attention to how it’s done properly, ye’ll never prove anything to anyone except that ye can kill. Any man or woman can be a killer, if’n the circumstances require the deed. It takes true strength and brains
not
to kill,” he said, poking himself in the temple and finishing his ale.

“So, what you’re telling me is, I should have let that old rat bastard shoot me?”

He leaned forward and pushed his plate aside. “What I’m telling ye is, if ye want respect from yer mates, and someday even yer crew, ye have to show them how a true leader can have restraint and honor. Ye go around killing like ye been, and all they see is a loaded canon who’ll fire at will—even fire on them. Ye want their respect, not their fear.”

“How would you have done it, then?” I asked, intrigued and hanging on his every word.

“How’d he pull the gun?”

“I knew he was going for something by the look in his eyes. Then, his hands slid back to the edge of the counter.”

“Right there, ye had your chance to call him out on what he was about to do. Why didn’t ye?” He leaned back and folded his arms with a sigh.

“I…I don’t know why. I suppose I didn’t think.” I swallowed hard and reached for my ale to soothe my drying mouth.

“Next time,” he sat forward and scratched his beard and said, “slow down. Breathe, and try to imagine what their next move will be. It’s like when ye pull your sword for a fight. The whole time you’re attacking, your opponent is trying to predict your next swing to keep from losing his head. Watch, pay attention, and predict that next swing, and figure out how to avoid it.”

“I understand.” I didn’t know what else to say. I had no defense. Rasmus was right. Mick told me, more or less, what most of my mates thought of me, and yet I proved him right by killing that innkeeper instead of predicting he would go for his gun and stopping him before he could do it. As I pondered which way my life would turn, I spied the lad, peeking in through the doorway. “See him?”

“Who? That ragged little mutt?”

“Yes, that ragged little mutt. He’s coming with us.”

“Oh, he is, is he? Says who?”

“Says me. He’s got spunk, and he’s all alone. I think he’d make a great sailor someday.” I waved for the boy to come to our table as Rasmus chuckled and stood.

“I’m going to get Fin, and we’ll be on our way. They’ll be searching for that killer soon. I imagine Francis won’t give a shit about ratting us out. If ye feel ye must save that little stray cat, go on ahead, but he’s your responsibility. You’ll let me know if’n ye start rounding up animals as well, so’s I can build ye an ark.” He threw the lad a wink, popped his cavalier on his head, and walked off.

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