Jaded Tides (The Razor's Adventures Pirate Tales) (19 page)

“What’s your name, lad?” I asked him, placing a dollar in his hand.

“Mister, are ye a lady or a man? ‘Cause ye’s got tits. I ain’t blind ye know, and I ain’t n’er met a man with tits afore.”

“Would it make a bit of difference to you if I was a woman dressed as a man?” I asked him, pushing my unfinished stew and bread towards him. He sat down fast and began to devour it, before answering me with a shake of his head. “Good. I can promise you I can do anything a man can do except piss standing up, ‘cause I’ve no desire to piss in my own boots.” The boy began to laugh with a mouthful of food and coughed, reaching for my ale. “Aren’t you a bit young for this?” I asked, pulling the cup away from him.

“Name’s Kenny,” he said over a cough.

“Kenny, aye? No last name?”

“Don’t know. Ain’t never known.” He worked that last piece of bread around the inside of the bowl until it was so clean it looked as if it had been washed.

“I’m going to call you Penny Kenny. Do you like that?” I asked him, waving over the bartender and asking for a cup of water and another bowl of stew.

“Makes no difference ta me, lady,” he answered, pouring that water down as if he’d not had a drink all day.

“Don’t call me lady. The name is Ivan, Ivan Razor.” As I watched him eat, my mind wandered to what Rasmus had advised. He seemed so agitated with me, and I knew I’d disappointed him, yet again. Although I’d managed not to thrash Valentina in the orange grove, I now believed I’d restrained myself for Rasmus, not of my own will. I had to gain control of my actions fast, because Rasmus’s patience was thinning. I knew I’d better start paying attention and heeding his advice, or else I wouldn’t last to find the
Grand Fortune
. They were pirates. They wouldn’t run, nor would they give up as easily as the
Belle
had. My only solace was in knowing I still had time to learn, and I believed, regardless of all of the darkness in my soul, I could harness it and hone it into something more valuable than violence—power.

TWENTY-TWO

SOULS TO THE SEA

We arrived back at Valentina’s by midnight. I stowed Penny Kenny with Fin, and Rasmus and I retired to our room to clean up and prepare to head out in the morning. The house was so quiet for a moment, I imagined he and I were alone, back in our beautiful cottage in the cove.

Master Green had left word that he’d found passage back to Virginia for the girls aboard a merchant ship they’d used previously, but she wouldn’t be arriving for several weeks. I felt secure in the knowledge that this was for the best, since Valentina would have more time with the girls to help them adjust and also time for her to discern if, in fact, Francis was right in her assumption that one or more of them could be with child. If that were the case, she’d have to set yet a different plan in motion.

Rasmus was right, as usual, to trust her and depend on her to make sure they’d all somehow end up all right in the end. Although nothing so far had truly turned out as I had hoped and imagined, I was able to, at last, fall asleep knowing they were free and not lost souls in a sea of decadence and sorrow. My sleep didn’t last long.

“Get up, lass! Get dressed and arm yourself!” Rasmus shouted at me as he blew in through the bedroom door.

“What happened?” I asked as he pulled me from the bed and tossed me to my feet.

“Our dear friend Francis has obviously sung like a bird.” Pulling me towards the open window, he pointed in the direction of the road leading to Valentina’s. I couldn’t believe my eyes. From the second floor, we could clearly see the glow of what appeared to be the flames of at least a dozen torches, carried by men on horseback.

“What do we do?” I asked, pulling on my clothes.

“Grab your weapons and load the pistols while I alert the field workers and have Valentina get the girls out of here and away to safety.”

“Safety? Where?”

“There’s no time to discuss it right now, Ivory. Just get those weapons loaded and meet me downstairs, and be smart about it!”

Rasmus blew out of the room as I scrambled to follow his orders. I could hear him ringing the emergency bell at the back of the house within seconds, as well as the shouts and thumping footsteps of everyone on the second floor as they ran for their lives. A minute later, I was bounding down the stairs and laying out our weapons across the dining room table. “Dammit!  Why did he have to send Mick back to the ship? We need more fighting men,” I said, handing out what weapons I could to the field workers as they poured in through the back door. Some of the men were already armed with broadswords and axes. “Arm yourselves, gentlemen, and wait here for Rasmus’s orders,” I said, putting out every light on my way to the front window.

They were only minutes away now, and the single glow of the torches was clear enough now to discern there were more than a dozen riders and even more close behind. My mind scrambled in wonder at who these men were and why they were coming after us. Murder was the one word that caused my mind to swell and ache in worry that everyone around me would die because of my stupidity and brash actions. Not only had I, yet again, acted impulsively and without caution or reason, but I was standing in the dark with a group of men whom I had no idea whether or not could fight.

“Ivory!” I heard Rasmus call out as he entered the living room from behind us.

“Here, Razz!” I called back to him, and he made his way to my side. “Can these men fight?” I whispered to him over my now trembling breath.

“They’re mostly all former pirates, lass, and they’ve been defending this place since I took it over. They can fight. The problem is, I had to send Philippe with Valentina and the girls. I sent Fin through the grove to town to gather the crew, but I’m afraid by the time they get here, it will be too late.”

“This is because of me and what I did.” I looked up at him as our eyes adjusted in the darkness and the slivers of light that shined through the front windows of the house. “When they get here, I’ll give myself up to them and…”

Rasmus grabbed me roughly by the arm and shook me. “You’ll do no such thing. Stop all your nonsense talking, woman. They’ll have to burn the damn place down and chop me into pieces before they get their hands on ye!”

“Then what are we going to do, Razz? We’re far outnumbered, and I don’t want any more blood on my hands because of what I’ve done.”

“Just stay here and let me handle this, and if it comes to a fight, then fight we shall. There’s no sense in me tellin’ ye to run now, because I know ye won’t, but don’t move until I give the signal. Understood?” He walked to the front door and put his hand on the door latch. I heard him let out a sigh, and he turned back to me with his big blue eyes lighting my darkened heart, and he winked, as a smile grew on his lips that I was certain was to try to reassure me he’d be all right.

I could hear the hoofbeats now. They slowed as they approached the house, and Rasmus opened the door and stepped onto the front porch. As they came to a halt, I heard the raspy and boisterous voice of a man shout, “Avast, mates! It be Big Red Bergman ‘imself!”

The hot breath of the field hands blew against the back of my neck as I leaned forward in the dark, watching from the window. I turned quietly to them and said, “Those of you with guns, move to the windows and set your eyes on that finely dressed one who is addressing Captain Bergman. I can assure you, that man is the leader, and obviously a captain as well.” They all did as I advised, as I too readied myself to fire when necessary upon the big, blond, fancy man, who was now dismounting his horse.

The faces of the men surrounding him glowed orange in the torchlight. One by one, they dismounted and stood aside their steeds with their hands resting on their weapons of choice. They were dirty and varied greatly in appearance. Their faces were frightening, and most were scarred or poorly tattooed. I’d never seen such a cast of characters. It was impossible to take my eyes off them, as each man was more interesting looking than the next, albeit in a twisted and bizarre way.

These were pirates, all right, and once I’d adjusted to their menacing presence, I counted eighteen of them. What ship could spare that many crewmen just to go after one lousy, murdering pirate? I hushed my inquiring thoughts so that I could overhear every word exchanged between Rasmus and the bejeweled man in the long, emerald coat.

“Captain Bergman,” the man said, sweeping his enormous tricorn hat from his head, brushing it through the air and across his body with a bow.

“Black Eye Woodley. What brings you to Nassau, not to mention out here at this hour? The fruit harvest isn’t for at least another month,” Rasmus joked, removing his cavalier and bowing as well.

“Oh, I’m certain ye know exactly what brings us out here on this shitty evening. The hour is of no importance when there’s a dead innkeeper at the Windy. We have it on the word of a little, bonny, dark-eyed lass that the killer is one of your crew.” The man Rasmus had called Black Eye Woodley stepped towards the front porch and rested his shiny gold-buckled boot upon the bottom step.

“That’s far enough, Woodley. Who sent ye here? Ye ain’t the law, so ye have no business claiming anybody, killer or not,” Rasmus said.

“On the contrary, Red; the Governor ‘imself often calls on gentlemen such as ourselves to lend a hand in situations such as these. There’s pirates everywhere in Nassau, ye know, brother, and I happen to have a great interest in keeping the peace here.”

“Since when?”

“Since he pays in gold for my services. He doesn't much care for the sight of blood; hasn't got the stomach for it.”

“Ye can’t have him. He’s just a kid, and that innkeeper pulled a pistol on him. It was self-defense.”

“Him?” Woodley said over a laugh. “Why, ye must think me an utter fool, Red. Now, ye haven’t been at sea so long ye can’t distinguish a woman from a man, have ye?”

“What are ye talking about?” Rasmus asked.

I trembled at Rasmus’s tone. I could feel the fear coursing through his veins from where I stood, but I didn’t dare move a muscle, lest I ruin whatever plans he was making in his head, and I knew damn well he was plotting something. “Bring the girl,” I heard Woodley say, when out of the darkness, I watched as one of the beasts dragged something off the back of one of the horses and fling it into the dirt at Woodley’s feet. I gazed in wide-eyed horror as the man who’d tossed it bent over, pulled a dagger from his belt, and began cutting at the ropes that bound it.  Finally, he pulled away a blanket to reveal Francis, bound and gagged.

“Now you wait just a damn minute, Woodley. Is this how the laws are applied in Nassau now? Well, I’ll not abide by any law that includes treating lassies like this. Untie that girl at once, or I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” he said, pulling his sword from its scabbard and pointing it at Francis, who, although bound by her hands and feet, squirmed helplessly in the dirt, trying to escape his blade. “Why do you care if she lives or dies? Is it because she knows who that murdering little whore is who killed Jim Bullock in cold blood this afternoon?”

“Listen to me Woodley, this girl is wrong; dead wrong. The lowly rat that did the killing today ran off right afterwards. He’s long gone by now, and he sure as hell is no girl. Do ye think I’d allow some female aboard my ship?” Rasmus was slowly inching himself down the steps as he spoke. His hands were stretched out in front of him as if he were showing Woodley he bore him no threat.

“According to this one, not only is the murdering wench a woman, but she’s
your
woman!” Woodley shouted, throwing up his hand towards Rasmus and pointing his long forefinger at his face.

“Damn you, Francis. You worthless piece of rat shit,” I said under my breath. I wanted to run out there and beat her within an inch of what was left of her life.

“Alright, Woodley, enough’s enough. I’m telling you this girl is lying. She’s just a kid. Let her go, and we’ll forget ye been taken in by some foolish lass who believed singing her song to ye was going to save her own neck.”

“You’re wrong, Red. Look at these men. Do you honestly believe they let her sing without their eager accompaniment?”

From my vantage point, I could clearly see Rasmus was about to fly into a rage, and I felt my stomach begin to twist in agony for him. His hands were now at his sides, and they were balled into tight fists. I could see his shoulders tightening and his back arched forward as if he were ready to lunge. Just the thought of what they may have done to Francis in order to make her tell them what she had, had to be tearing him apart.  

        “Just keep him talking, Razz,” I whispered through my clenched teeth. I wanted so desperately to be out there at his side. There was nothing I could do. I felt useless and helpless. Some minute part of me even wanted to help Francis, as memories of my own brutal treatment at the hands of men like these flashed before me. Watching her squirming and flopping on the ground like a bird with a broken wing began to wear on me. I struggled to keep my eyes focused solely on Rasmus, but the urge to cut her free of her binds and save her began to overwhelm me. I was angry as hell at her, but that part of me who couldn’t bear cruelty or injustice against women had begun to simmer. I prayed Rasmus could somehow get rid of this crew of clowns and miscreants before I boiled over.

“Listen, Woodley, why don’t ye and your crew just head on back to that broken-down, rotten-bottomed sloop of yours and leave us be? I’ll see to whomever this girl named as the killer, and I’ll see to her, too. You’re not leaving here with any of my crew, nor this girl.”

“Rotten-bottomed sloop, you say? I take it you haven’t had the pleasure of laying eyes upon my new vessel, then. Aye, she’s a fine lady of the sea, and had you seen her, you’d not soon forget it.”

“Well, then by all means, enjoy your voyage out of Nassau, but I’ll say it again; you’re not taking this girl,” Rasmus growled.

“Who’s going to stop us?  You? That ragged bunch who’s been peering out the windows at us with their pitchforks and shovels? Whatever possessed an intelligent man such as yourself to stay out here, alone on an orange grove plantation, without enough men to protect this place? You’ve grown careless, Bergman.” Woodley removed his boot from the bottom step and walked backwards from the porch. “Wrap the whore back up and put her back on the horse.”

“No!” Rasmus bellowed, rushing down the steps and standing over Francis. “You’ll not harm this girl anymore. If you’ve something to prove, prove it with me.”

“Have it your way, Bergman.” Woodley whipped his sword from its sheath and tossed it from hand to hand as if it were a simple dagger, until it landed soft and clean in his right palm. Then, he sliced the air with it several times before the point sat precariously against the breast of Rasmus’s waistcoat.

I gasped and covered my mouth as I bolted from where I stood to the front door, where two of the field hands swiftly detained me by the arms. “The Cap’n said to wait for his signal,” the man gripping my right arm whispered, as I pulled and writhed to escape them.

“He’s got the pointy end of a sword pointed at his heart, you bastards. Let me go! That man is the love of my life, don’t you understand?”

When the words escaped my lips, I was free, although they released me so abruptly from our struggle I flew forward into a table near the door with a thud and fell to the floor, taking one of Valentina’s Spanish lady lamps down with me. I clambered to my feet, and I could feel all of their shocked eyes upon me in the darkness, but I didn’t care. “Prepare yourselves, you bloody bastards! What are you staring at?” I shouted at them in a whisper. “I’m going out that door, and if you’ve one cock between all of you, you’d better be coming with me.”