Queen Of My Nightmare (Uncharted Secrets, Book 2): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories (3 page)

“Ah.” Ziare smiled brightly, flashing the whitest teeth I’d ever seen. “Is he the Feather who drew the map Seth’s been staring at?”

“Indeed he is,” Mason acknowledged.

“Very good. Maybe he do better than Seth. No one like him one bit. No one but Gruff, anyhow. Did he sign the account yet?”

“We’re about to do that now.” Mason finally looked at me. His faith in our lie was so apparent in his eyes that I felt estranged from him. “Just so you know, mate, if you so choose to sign, this fen-sucked paint face is going to be your quartermaster, and you’ll have to follow his order as well as mine.” They both laughed, but the thought of that big scary man telling me what to do made me want to cry. I nodded my head to agree.

Mason smiled. “All right then. Let’s get this shit done and get underway.”

To my great disdain, Ziare followed along with us, running his happy mouth about his day’s work all the way down the gangway. But I myself had not a thing to be happy about at the moment. Ziare thought I was a senseless mute, Captain Reid knew I was a woman, and if Perk and Gruff found out, they’d ride me until Armageddon struck the earth. To make matters worse, Perk came stomping down the gangway behind us, singing a jolly song at a volume much higher than necessary for the small space.

Opening the door to the room that would now be his cabin, Mason barked, “Shut your bird-chirping mouth, Perk, afore I clog your pipes with a load of grape shot.”

“Ah, when I was a wee lad, my mother told me I sang like a bird. Glad to hear that you agree.”

Mason laughed. “I agree more with your father for leaving her and you behind.”

While Perk jabbered on about how his father and mother were still married, Mason fanned his hand. “Aye, aye, that’s so damned sweet, now make yourself useful and get me the code.”

Mason lit a lantern, and in the yellow glow, I took in the sight of his new cabin. The stern windows were trimmed in gold, boasting the elegance of the original Spanish style architecture, and the bed which was hardly big enough for him alone was covered in the red and gold blankets we made love on for the first time, but that was as far as the once present air of wealth went.

The whitewashed walls were barren as was the massive oak table, and the one bookshelf was hardly stocked. Remembering that I was a mute who had never been on this ship before, I resisted my urge to huff in disappointment. Mason certainly did not plan this move well.

Perk grabbed the book, Ziare sat down and plopped his bare feet up on the table like he owned the place, and Mason stood at the table and opened the book to the page I had already seen.

“Can he read?” Ziare asked Mason.

“Of course he can. He does chart work and shit. Now, what do you think, Midnight? Take a gander at our code and sign below if you still fancy to make yourself one of us.”

With a deep breath, and a worried heart, I once again read the words that shone on the parchment with much greater meaning this time.

Articles of Agreement

Captain Mason Bentley’s Crew

I
.
Every man sworn by book & mirror to be true to these articles, & to his shipmates, is to have a vote in matters of importance. He who is not sworn shall not vote.

II
.
Captain & Quartermaster are to have two shares of a prize, the Sailing Master, Boatswain, Gunner & Surgeon, one share & a half. Other officers one & a quarter share
.

III
.
No person to game at cards or dice for money
.

IV
.
Any man not keeping his arms clean, fit for an engagement, or neglect his business, shall be cut off from his share and suffer such other punishment the Captain and the Company shall think fit.

V
.
Any man that attempts to jump ship or keeps secrets from the Company shall be marooned with one bottle of powder, one bottle of water, one pistol and one shot.

VI
.
Any man that spreads dissension or breeds mutiny shall suffer the punishment as the Captain and the majority of the Company shall think fit.

VII
.
He that shall be found guilty of cowardice in the time of engagements shall suffer the punishment as the Captain and the majority of the Company shall think fit.

VIII
.
He that shall have the misfortune to lose a limb in time of engagement shall have the sum of six hundred pieces of eight and remain aboard as long as he shall think fit.

Though the words themselves made just as much sense as they did last time, viewing the code in the presence of the bawdy witnesses brought the dangers of the decision to life. While Mason, Ziare, and Perk engaged in a humored discussion about their preferences for which punishments they saw fit for which crimes, I took a deep breath. By signing my name I’d be one of them. I knew that all along, but seeing their rugged appearances so closely, hearing their nasty words so loudly, and worst of all, being overwhelmed with their rancid body odors, I decided that I didn’t want to be one of them.

“He read slow?” Ziare grumbled at Mason.

“At least he reads, not like us.” Perk slapped Ziare upside the head.

Lowering his feet from the table, Ziare swatted back at him, but Mason waved his arm between them. “Stop it already, you bat-fowling boar-pigs.”

As soon as Mason had his
children
settled, he looked back at me. “Well, what have you, mate?”

To keep from twiddling my fingers, I balled up my fists, and looked away from him, but he drew me back in with a beaming gaze in my direction. “Make your mark, Midnight.”

Though I was certain the other two people in the room did not notice the enchantment of his tone, my soul certainly did.

Dipping my own quill in the inkwell he offered, I signed my feather amongst the other symbols, initials, and blood marks that colored the page.

Sink me. It was official. I was now a buccaneer. My blood raced in the strangest way. Before I could decipher if it was shame or pride blasting through my being, Mason patted me on the back. “Welcome to the crew, mate.”

The gruff gesture annoyed me, but I was far more offended when Ziare and Perk did the same.

“This ship won’t sail itself, boys.” Mason shooed us out of the room.

“Won’t fill its own hold with gold, either!” Perk hooted before running up the gangway just as fast and happily as he’d descended it.

Ziare and Mason talked about things I had no interest in as we made our way out to the deck, but even if I gave a shit, my own thoughts were far too loud to hear them. This was it. The lost young girl found a home among thieves, and her greatest fancy was in the bed of their king. What a turn my life had taken.

The moment we reached the main deck, Mason took a stand before the crowd. With his absurdly loud voice he quickly roped in the stragglers. Pacing before us in his well-brushed coat, clean breeches, and feathered cavalier hat, he looked like an idol God among the hardly dressed savages awaiting his turn of the season announcement.

“Good evening, men.” He said it so loudly, and so clearly, I was certain the men working at the market were going to respond. “It’s been a good couple months ashore, and our common whore is looking as pretty as the sea herself.” He motioned his hand around the refitted ship—that I indeed hardly recognized—and they applauded their own hard work. Easily taming their uproar with a simple movement of his hands, he continued. “Yet another job well done, mates. Now, I can only assume that not a one of you spindle-shank beef-witted maumets has but a pebble of wealth left in your holey pockets, so what say we go get ourselves another prize?”

Though the rowdy hoots of enthusiasm surrounding me were nearly contagious, I did not join in their shouts. Not because I wasn’t excited, but because I simply did not know how I felt. The sound of the captain barking harsh commands, and the sight of the gangly men scampering about the yard like hellish monkeys intensified my insecurity. What had I gotten myself into? The heavy canvas sails dropping in the thick night air sounded like prison bars clamping down around my spirit, and the feel of the salty breeze which was filling them seemed to strangle my very soul. There was no turning back. This was it…And how I felt about it didn’t truly matter, for there was no other choice for me.

Other than Mason, there was no one who loved me, and no one who knew me, and that was exactly why I had gone on account. Being a faceless, nameless feather drifting on a midnight breeze, this was my chance to make a new start. I left my mark on that code, and I’d soon be leaving it on my maps, which meant that this was my chance to make a mark on the world. Midnight was a blank canvas, and as the lights of Tortuga faded into the night sky, I realized that here, under Mason Bentley’s black flag, I was free to paint her however I pleased.

Chapter 3

Hell on the Horizon

N
avigatio
n
proved to be an honorable, but solitary chore, and with Mason’s mentions of Midnight being just plain odd, I was as respected for my trade as I was ignored for my lack of good company. Honestly, I couldn’t have asked for a better position among this crew of bawdy rogues who weren’t half as bad as I dreaded them to be. Yes, they smelled terrible and said plenty of awful things I wished I had never heard, but they worked together well and for the most part they got along. None of this made me want to befriend them, but at least I wasn’t living my days in constant fear.

Most of my time was spent with Seth, the navigator who was teaching me all the tricks of his trade. Seth was man of average size, with pale white skin and squinty little eyes that reminded me of a mole who preferred not to see the light of day. He was less interested in associating with the crew than I was. His outspoken disdain for the vile group humored me as much as it allowed me to prosper in my work, for he was more than happy to pass over the chore of taking measurements on deck.

While I used the backstaff and the astrolabe to measure our latitude in the light of day, Mason kept me updated on Bosun Gruff’s, tracking of our speed, and shared with me his experience with the sea and the maneuvers of the ship itself. While I studied the placement of the heavenly stars at night, Ziare told me tales of the constellations and informed me of their seasonal changes. All of this information was recorded in the candle-lit chartroom where Seth hid away with his resentments and extensive knowledge of the trade I had become so fond of. I had learned more about the world around me in this last passing month than I had learned in all my days before. With the help of the few men I had to associate with, along with the pleasure of the work itself, I was truly enjoying my time at sea.

As for this hot and humid morning, I took a moment to observe the puffy white clouds moving overhead. They rolled and tumbled across the canvas of the sky like dreams…Memories…Something beautiful, wild and free. With wide eyes I watched the mist come together to form an image, so massive and astounding, only to dissipate into the blue dome as if it never existed. Like my life before this. My father and my husband had both meant so much to me, and now they were gone like the cloud I had been gazing upon.

Staring at the blank blue space, I thought about the way the sky would always remind me of those whom I had lost. How could something so lovely hurt so much? Oh bother. Shaking my head loose of the painful memories, I grabbed my backstaff. The study of navigation helped to clear my mind of the painful thoughts that normally plagued me. Learning to understand the elements made me feel as if I had some sort of control of the world around me. Rather than being just a helpless dolt afloat in the tide, as a navigator I became an active part of this massive picture surrounding me, and it’d be best to gather the same control over my memories.

Remembering there was work to be done and time to be kept, I looked through the sighting vane on the backstaff. Capturing the endless horizon in that tiny view captivated my spirit every time. Like an ant in a meadow, or a fish in the sea, I was but a miniscule creature observing my enormous surroundings. But unlike those hapless organisms, I knew where I was on the brink of the blue beast. For this gigantic, ever moving ocean, was readable. And I was reading it.

“Where are we at, Midnight?” The gruffness of Mason’s voice startled me out of my romantic trance with the view. When I turned to face him, my dumbstruck desire only intensified. Wearing a waistcoat without a shirt beneath it, the shape of his muscles seemed extra refined, and beneath the shadow of his hat I noticed that the tips of his hair had lightened in the sun. And those eyes of his. Oh, they mirrored the same kind of beauty I was just viewing through the sighting vane.

“So? Are we closer to China or Panama?” He chuckled, but his sarcastic tone reminded me how stupid it was to have been staring at him like I was.

“Oh, uh,” I grumbled with my man voice and reported our bearings.

“Fancy that. I’ve never had a bitch run so fast.” He clapped his hands together. “Except the one I chased down on that horse. Swift as the wind, she was.”

Coming up behind him, Shark and Perk laughed at his ridiculous comment. Though I couldn’t help but snicker a bit myself, I was disappointed that our brief moment alone was so quickly interrupted. The only time we talked these days was when I reported our pace. Though he was always friendly and funny, we hadn’t been alone since we left port. I understood this arrangement, and I was pleased that his plan had so far kept me safe and amused, but I couldn’t wait until the day that I could once again be his woman.

Still, not wanting to be face to face with any of the men for too long, I fumbled with the dial on the backstaff as they carried on. As soon as there was a break in their conversation, I said, “Everything is going well, Captain. I’m going to take my notes to Seth and see that we stay on course.”

“Hurry back. At this speed we might hit Panama afore nightfall.” He winked. Obviously joking. We were still many days away.

Heading to the chartroom I saw Feather chewing on a rat. Petting his little head, I laughed. “Good job, gut guzzler.”

It was killing me not being able to talk to my beloved cat as often as I wanted to, for it would have been all too obvious for Midnight and Mason’s
whore
to both favor the Feather Tailed Cat. But Feather saw Hannah right through Midnight’s disguise.

Entering the hot little chartroom, I found Seth sitting at the desk with his face in his hands and his charts all scattered about.

“Is something the matter, sir?”

“What’s not the matter?” he wailed. The dazed look on his face showed me that he was drunk.

He belched, and then flopped his head on the table. “So, where are we in the world, Midnight?”

When I shared with him the information I had gathered, he melodramatically beat his head against the table. “Perfect! One day closer to death. That’s all.”

As Mason had said, Seth was a whiner, but spending as much time with him as I had, I also learned that he was more than just a coward. He was a resentful cynic. He thought all the worst of the world around him and he hated his father as much as he hated Mason. Some days he hated one more than the other, and as I took a seat beside him, it was instantly apparent that today he hated Mason.

“What did that murderous buffoon have to say about your progress?” He never lifted his face off the desk.

“Uh, well, he is happy with our pace. That’s all.” While wiping the sweat from my brow, I wished I could remove the black cloth I hid my hair behind. It was so damned hot in this room.

Apparently Seth felt the same. Ripping his shirt off, he blubbered, “It’s hot! It’s always so blasted hot in the Caribbean. I never wanted to be here.”

“Where are you from, Seth?” I asked while fanning my face.

“England,” he cried out.

“How did you end up here?”

“Stupid Bentley forced me aboard.” Finally sitting up, he started flailing his long skinny arms about. “He’s always talking about freedom this, and freedom that. Well, where’s my freedom, Midnight?” He grabbed my collar and stared at me with desperation blazing in his beady eyes.

My first reaction was one of fright, but regaining my composure, I easily moved his hand off of me. “Keep your hands to yourself, mate.”

Letting go, he looked at me as if I smelled bad, and then wiped the sweat off of his forehead. “Ah, you’re just as bad as the rest of them.”

Incredibly insulted by that statement, I stood up. Once again channeling my father’s business tactics, I asserted, “Perhaps we can finish our business once you regain your sobriety.”

“I’m never going to.” He let his face hit the desk again. “And the job never ends, Midnight. They need to know where we are every fifteen minutes. Oh! Look!” He flicked the hour glass over. “It’s almost time. It’s always time.”

Understanding the importance of our time limit, I sat back down and informed him, “You know, I enjoy this line of work, and I truly appreciate the things you have been teaching me. I will be more than happy to do all the things you do not want to do.”

After a loud belch that he didn’t even attempt to shield, Seth slurred, “Thank you, Midnight. You’re not half bad. Not at all like the rest of them. What the hell led you here?”

Over the month of working together, this was the first time Seth had asked about me, and at that moment I realized we had become too close. “Only me and the devil know that,” I sullenly answered with the line that Mason used when I asked about his story. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to mark this chart and get back out on deck for another measurement.”

X

The day was long, sunny, and hot, and by the time I retired to my tiny bunkroom, I was a sweaty exhausted mess. After brushing out my tangled locks and braiding my hair in one boring braid, I laid down on the uncomfortable bunk in the darkness and called my cat to join me. “Another day is done, my friend.”

I scratched his little head, and he rubbed his face against my neck. “I know. I miss you, too. At least we get to spend the nights together. I also miss Mason. I’d spent my prior life sleeping alone, but I’d grown quite accustom to sleeping beside him and the night seems extra-long without him snoring in my ear.” Remembering the way a simple tap on the shoulder would snap him out of his snoring fit, I giggled, but my quiet humor was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Only a few of the men came this way in the night, and by now, I could tell whose footfalls were whose, and these were those of my lover.

Just as he did every night, Mason tapped on my door. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

“Goodnight.”

That was it. The nights that were once full of hugs and kisses, silly whispers, and talks about our dreams, had now summed up to this short and bleak routine. “Goodnight,” I grumbled, and listened closely as he walked to his cabin.

As always, he left his door open so he could keep an ear on me in the night. I suppose I should have been grateful for that small consideration, but I missed him far more than the gesture pleased me.

X

“Sails!” The sound of the watchman’s call chilled me to the bone. While the other men rushed to the gunnel chanting and hooting with hopeful excitement, I stood back and twiddled with the dial on my backstaff. I had been so busy during the day, and so tired in the night, that my nightmares had been neatly tucked away in the darkened recesses of my haunted mind. But as I eyed the three ships making their way over the southwest horizon, my mind flashed with horrific memories of what happened the last time I heard the call for sails.

My breath became heavy and my heartbeat ran wild. Who were they and what would happen when we crossed paths? If they were pirates out to wreak the same havoc that my prior abusers inflicted upon me and my husband, I found peace in knowing that these lunatic buccaneers would never just surrender, and if worse came to worse, I had faith in the fact that Mason would keep me safe. Wanting to be closer to him, I casually wandered in his direction. Along the way I picked up on the men’s mumbles about Spanish gold. This possibility reminded me of the terrors that could arise if it was a treasure ship headed our way. There was always a chance that we could just pass like strangers in the night, but it was far more likely that Hell was about to strike the horizon.

Amidst the buzzing anxiety of the crew, I found Mason standing at the bow gazing upon the approaching ships in his spyglass. Though he was so close I could smell his earthy aroma, he was no longer mine to touch. His protective embrace would not be my place to hide today. Once again feeling estranged from the man who had once claimed that he loved me, I watched the lips that had recently kissed all over me, curl into a mischievously wicked grin. “They’re Spanish and they’re ours.”

Roaring in excitement, the men agreed to take them.

After commanding Ziare to signal to Reid’s
Broken Shell
to follow suit, Mason shouted to his men, “All hands make sail, helmsman alee, ready the guns, and light the fire of hell in your souls!”

The release of anxious tension on deck was akin to the power of lightning striking the earth, and the action now swarming around me was like the fire following the electric assault. Filling barrels of saltwater, sprinkling sand around the decks, and prepping their weapons for war, the crewmen sang and chanted a fearsome tune; t
heir frightful melody
harmonizing with the flapping of the canvas sails above and the thrashing of the wooden hull against the tumbling sea beneath us. Mason’s encouraging howls were the loudest of the bunch, feeding the intensity of this hellish wildfire like kindling. Not a pointed finger or a shouted command was given without swift response, but as the chaotic symphony unfolded around me, I stood there like an idiot.