Within a Captain's Treasure (2 page)

“Get yer sorry arse off the woman. Move whatever we ken use from the hold. Now.”

Jones wiped the blood from his face with the back of his sleeve. Moving away, he glared back at Alice.

Alice scrambled to her feet and headed toward him. “Stop. He stole my ring.”

The other man only laughed and blocked her with his pistol. “Yer lucky it’s all he took.” He leveled the gun at her chest. “I be takin’ this one,” he shouted to the crew as they moved through the scatter of bodies, pillaging things from the dead.

“You, two,” he motioned for men. “Show me guest to her new quarters. Mind ye, touch her an’ I’ll cut off yer fingers.”

They flanked Alice, and dragged her over the boarding ladders to the
Delmar.
She was hauled below and thrown into a vile, rank, cave-like cabin. They tied her hands and feet and tossed her onto a filthy, soiled cot, then left. Alice struggled against her restraints in vain. The rancid smell of the bedding beneath her made her skin crawl. Another reeking odor seemed to come from the very boards of the ship.

Blinded from the brightness of the deck, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark room. She grimaced with disgust at what she saw. The cabin was cramped and cluttered. Food scraps and rotting debris littered a long table. The room had one small window at the back, but between the grime upon it and the myriad of things blocking it the window did little to bring in any light.

Alice’s arms ached as she worked her wrists raw trying to release her bonds. She was not going to suffer at the hands of another madman. Panic crested and she screamed until her throat became raw. Collapsing into the soiled bedding, Alice grit her teeth and vowed. She was
not
going to die here.

The door flew open and the man who had claimed her as his own strode in. Arms full, he dumped his bounty amongst the other piles of clutter littering the cabin. He took off the wide-brimmed hat he wore and threw it atop the heap. After fishing a jug from the rubble of chaos on his desk, he lifted it to his mouth. Rivulets of red wine ran down his beard adding new stains to his coat.

He narrowed his eyes at Alice as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Aye, a fine bit of skirt. Git along right nice, we will.” He drained the jug and tossed it to one side. “I be Capt’n Rasher. Long time since I ’ad the like of ye in me bed.”

“I…I’m carrying a child,” she lied.

He scratched at the tangled nest of his beard before doing the same to his crotch. “I don’t care if ye be carryin’ some bastard.” He moved closer with a sneer. “We ain’t gonna be acquainted fer long.”

“Please,” she whimpered, “don’t hurt us.”

He stroked her hair. “Be accommodatin’ and ye got nuthin’ to fret ’bout. Fight me, and I promise ye, yer babe will be yer last concern.” He pushed his jacket open and began unbuttoning his breeches. “Now, be a good lass. Keep yer yap closed and yer legs open.”

Alice began gagging. The smells and fetid surroundings made it easy for her to lose the contents of her stomach all over the randy Captain Rasher.

“Ah! Ye bloody bitch.” He backed away as Alice continued to retch. “Damn ye, ye scurvied whore.” Rasher tried to wipe the vomit off his thigh before he left in a fouled hurry.

Alice spit the sourness from her mouth and glared at the closed door. He’d be back. Her stunt had only bought her time. She had to get off this godforsaken ship before Rasher returned to rape her, and—and what? Fight an entire ship of pirates? Take over the ship? Swim to Virginia? There had to be a way out.

Hours later, the captain slammed his way back into the cabin.

“You’ll be wishin’ ye ain’t seen fit to spew on me.” He stuffed a filthy rag into her mouth. Grabbing her hair, he forced her to turn around. His fingers bit into her flesh as he shoved her facedown onto the bed. Alice struggled, screaming against the rag in her mouth and the brutal hold he had upon her neck. She couldn’t fight him, not like this.

Rasher pinned her with a vise grip to one shoulder while he raised her skirts and fumbled to release the front of his breeches.

“Time fer ye te learn who be in charge—”

With the tangle of her skirts about her waist, Alice kicked out. Ankles lashed together, she used both feet like a barnyard mule and caught Rasher squarely in the groin. The full force of her kick knocked Rasher back against a pile of debris. A holler caught in his throat and turned into an agonized squeal as he doubled over in pain, clutching at his crotch.

He fell to the floor writhing in pain, cursing her, and gasping for breath. “I’ll k-kill ye. Ye sorry b-bitch.” He rolled into a fetal curl. “Wait till I get me hands on ye, ye’ll wish ye ne’er been born.”

An insistent knock rattled the cabin door. “Capt’n, ship off te stern. Followin’ close. Be a
plague
ship.”

“Aargh, I’m busy. Be gone. Got me own plague right ’ere.” He spit at Alice.

Far-off cannon fire caught Rasher’s attention. He struggled to his feet, and pointed a dirty finger at her. “I be right back te snap yer bloody neck.” Rasher straightened himself best he could and stumbled from the cabin.

Another round of gunfire exploded. Alice listened to the rumble of cannons being rolled into position. Whoever was shooting at the
Delmar
was getting closer by the second. More cannon fire. This shot hit its mark. The
Delmar
lurched as if half the ship was blown away. Overhead, men screamed and scrambled on deck.

The door flew open, crashing into the wall. The same two pirates who had dumped her there earlier yanked her off the bed.

“Capt’n be wantin’ ye on deck.” They pulled at her to move, but she fell at their feet.

“Cut ’er ankle bounds. I ain’t draggin’ her the whole way.”

Alice was able to spit out the vile rag Rasher used to gag her. This might be her only chance. If she could break free in the chaos, she could hide away in another part of the ship or beg quarter aboard whatever ship was putting holes in the
Delmar
. She forced herself to keep her head and wait for any chance to escape.

One of the men bent to slice at the rope binding her feet. Alice thought to kick him, but with her hands still tied and the other pirate doing his best to break her arms, she wouldn’t get out of the cabin alive.

A rough hand began to scratch up the inside of her leg. “She sure be purty.” Alice did kick at him then, but he only jeered. “What say we take a quick poke ’fore we bring ’er up?”

“Capt’n’s waitin’.”

“He’s just gonna kill ’er.” The man sneered into her face. “He be thinkin’ yer a witch that put a curse upon ’im.” He raked his hands over her breasts. “Ye don’t be lookin’ like no witch ta me.”

“Leave ’er. Ye want the next back Rasher stripes to be yers?”

“Be worth the whip.” He wiped spittle from the corner of his mouth.

“Take orders from yer cock, an Capt’n be havin’ it for bait.” The other pirate laughed, “If’n he be fishin’ for sardines.”

The man spun on the other. “Sardines? Must be thinkin’ of yer own wee bullocks and twig.”

A blast of cannon fire brought their attention back to the matter at hand. “Git ’er te the Capt’n, an’ remind me te knock out the rest of yer teeth later.”

The scene above was chaotic. Men raced about shouting. Several lay dead. Smoke and sulfur filled the air. A blast from the ship off their starboard exploded, splintering a section of the rail, and rocking the
Delmar
. Alice and her two escorts fell to the deck.

Breaking free in the confusion, Alice scrambled close to the side rail. She tripped over a body but used the dead man’s cutlass to slice at the ropes binding her wrists. It took several passes to cut through the rope. A rush of freedom filled her veins. She spoke to the dead man as she stole his blade. “I need this more than you. Sorry.”

“There be the witch who’s brung the plague down on us.” Rasher lorded over her.

“The
Olivia Grace
wasn’t carrying the plague.”

Rasher pointed his dagger at the attacking ship. “That bloody barge is. Ye cursed us.”

The mysterious vessel loomed large and ominous. It was bedecked with tattered black sails. Great strips of sickly green hung from the yardarms. The decks stood empty. Not a soul could be seen. Were the guns firing on their own? It looked possessed, and abandoned.

Better to take her chances with spirits than pirates. Alice pointed her cutlass at him. “You’re right. I am a witch, and I’ve cursed you all to the fiery pits of hell. There’s only one way to save your sorry hides. Release me. I have the power to stop the devil ship. Let me go, and you can be rid of us all.”

Rasher glared at her. “I be as damned as I plan to git. I’d ratha kill ye.”

Alice slashed out with her cutlass. Rasher growled and lunged at her. She swung on him once more as the
Delmar
caught another round of fire and lurched beneath her feet. Alice lost her balance and caught Rasher’s hip with the end of her sword. Blood bloomed down his thigh, and he slashed out in anger, missing her as she ducked low to the deck. Rasher moved toward her with his dirk raised high.

Gripping her weapon with both hands, Alice rose to catch Rasher just below his breastbone. She surged upward. Hot blood coursed over her hands. She released the grip as if burned. Rasher’s eyes, wide with shock, looked to the cutlass protruding from his front before crumbing to the deck.

More cannon fire shattered a section of rail. Something ripped across Alice’s upper arm. She cried out and clutched at the burning pain.

Blasts fired all around her as the approaching ship came alive. The black and green rags fell away as bright red sails rose along with a grinning skull emblazoned on a black flag. More than thirty men materialized out of voluminous clouds of red cannon smoke. It swirled about them as they swarmed the deck of the
Delmar,
looking as if they were arriving from the very bowels of hell.

Alice picked up a pistol and a boarding ax. If the gun wasn’t loaded, at least it would buy her some of time. From behind, a hand came down to crush her shoulder.
Jones.
The man who’d stolen her ring. A gaping wound upon his forehead had covered half his face with blood.

He hauled her against him. “Cap’n won’t be savin’ ye this time, will ’e. Ye’ve seen to that, ain’t ye?”

Struggling against his hold, she spit, “I won’t be needing the captain.”

With the pistol trapped between them, Alice said a quick prayer and squeezed the trigger. The ensuing blast knocked her hard against the rail, punching the air from her lungs. Powder burns singed her clothes. Jones clawed at the hole in his chest before he died at her feet.

Alice shook her head and struggled to regain her senses. A painful ringing in her ears deafened all else. Dropping to her knees, she began a frantic search of Jones’s body.

Holding the ax poised, Alice reached into bloodied pockets until she found what she sought. With a satisfied grin, in the middle of a hell storm, Alice Tupper pushed Annalise’s ring firmly back upon her finger.

The fierce blow of a cutlass knocked the ax from Alice’s hand as another pair of strong men subdued her and wrestled her across the watery gap to their waiting ship. She thrashed and screeched and caught one man with a vicious punch of her elbow. No doubt winning him a beautiful blackened eye to remember her by if the blue-tongued curse he spat was any indication.

They hauled her across the decks, through the swirl of red smoke, and down a darkened stairway. Alice strained to see until she was shoved into an aft cabin. The door slammed behind her.

Panic swelled. She couldn’t catch her breath. Had she truly fought her way from one pirate ship only to land upon another? At least this time, they hadn’t seen fit to bind her.

She searched the room for something to defend herself. The chamber was as different from the filthy cave of Rasher’s quarters as mud was to milk. This room was spotless. Surfaces clear and uncluttered. Heavy brass lamps were polished and locked tight in their holders. The bunk was neatly made, and a row of diamond-paned windows curved along the back of the ship and sparkled in the sunlight. Open sea and spice were the only smells.

She lifted an ornate sexton and judged its weight. It might not be heavy enough to kill a man, but it would put a fine crease in his skull.

Alice pulled the tattered remains of her bodice back upon her shoulder. Her skirts had been reduced to rags and what wasn’t torn was covered in powder burns and blood. Some of which was hers. Her upper arm throbbed as she pulled the fabric of her sleeve away from the wound. If she didn’t tend to it soon, infection was sure to set in.

She crossed the room to a washstand in search of water. The pitcher was dry—but the finely honed razor lying near by—now, that would come in handy.

Amid the chaos continuing to rain down from above deck, booted footsteps heading her way had her poised for attack. A tall man ducked to enter the quarters. His broad shoulders filled every inch of the wool uniform of an English Navel seaman. Gray breeches incased long legs and tucked into tall, cuffed boots.

He glanced in her direction. “Put down my razor.”

Like hell.
“I’ll put it down if you give me a pistol.”

Her reply stopped him. “You’re in no immediate danger.”

“Ha. I’ve had enough dealings with pirates to believe otherwise. How many times must I defend my life in a single day?”

He removed his leather hat. Without a wig, his blond hair was long, the color of corn silk, and pulled back into a tidy queue. “I give you my word.”

Alice wanted to laugh again, but a jolt of recognition stopped her.
It couldn’t be…
Stunned, she relaxed her stance and lowered the blade.

“Good.” He tipped his head toward her and paused to hang his hat on the back of the door. “I’m Captain G—”

“Gavin Quinn.”

Gray eyes narrowed at her. “Yes. How—”

“I should have guessed. Red smoke. The crimson sails.” Alice scanned the room. “This is the infamous
Scarlet Night
.”

Quinn rested his hands on his hips. “Right again. Have we met?”

“Don’t you remember?” Alice indicated her torn, bloodied clothes. “I was wearing the same outfit. Of course, it was more than two years ago. You look exactly the same. Don’t tell me I’ve aged that much.”