Читать книгу Within A Captain's Treasure - Lisa A. Olech - Страница 7

Portsmouth, England 1686

Alice Tupper refused to look back. As the Olivia Grace pulled away from its docking, she didn’t line the gunwales with the others waving farewell to England. She stood at the farthest point of the bow instead, pulled her woolen shawl tight about her shoulders, and lifted her face to the freshness of the open sea. Her gaze rested on the thin line where the sea and the sky lay atop one another like lovers—that was where her new life would begin.

“Good day, Mistress Tupper. Ye’ve stolen my favorite place to stand.”

Alice turned and grinned at Captain Fredericks. He was a joyous soul who’d already won the hearts of his passengers. Albert Fredericks reminded her of Father Christmas after indulging in an overabundance of plum pudding.

“I’ve only sailed twice, but I love standing here as the ship cuts through the water. It creaks and pops and pulls against the rigging like a bridle. When the sails fill, it’s as if she breaks into a gallop.” She ran her hands along the polished rails and fittings. “I envy you your time at sea. Once I arrive in Virginia, I imagine I’ll never sail again.” She gave him a quick smile over her shoulder. “Governesses aren’t known for their exotic travels.”

“Well, then, you’re welcome at my bow anytime.” He patted her shoulder and leaned close. “Ye can’t tell, those children ye’ve been sent to care for might need to see more of the world than their back porch.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” She smiled at the dear man. He winked and gave her arm a gentle squeeze.

Over their first days at sea, the other passengers became a tight-knit group, but Alice was hesitant to get too close with any of them. She preferred her books, long hours on deck, and keeping her secrets tucked away. To them she was a simple Englishwoman from northern Weatherington heading to take a new position along the coast of Virginia.

A young girl named Milly made a point to seek her out. The child was terribly lonely but bright as a new copper coin. She’d been sent for by her father, and her excitement to join him in America was contagious. The old woman he’d hired as her traveling companion, however, had spent more time being sick over the rails than she had keeping the girl company.

“It’s all so thrilling, don’t you think, Mistress Tupper? Two adventurous women like ourselves out on the ocean miles from anywhere.” Milly hugged herself. “What do you suppose Virginia will be like?”

“I only know I’m to live on a fine tobacco plantation. Do you think they’ll make their new governess learn how to smoke a pipe?” Alice liked teasing the girl. Her pale blue eyes would twinkle with mischief.

Milly giggled. “Or one of those fat smelly cigars with the gold ring around the middle.”

“Yes. And I’d smoke it clear to the ring in one breath and blow enough smoke rings to make a chain.”

Milly laughed and hugged her. Her companion only groaned and retched.

Alice twisted at the beautiful ring she wore. It was buttery gold, and not made of smoke. She ran her finger over the A carved into the face with a tiny pearl cradled in the tail of the initial. Her only true treasure. A farewell gift from her best friend, Annalise. She’d presented it to Alice the night before she left for her voyage.

“Running off to the new world won’t erase the pain, Alice. It will only take you too far from those who love you. But if you must go, whenever you feel lost and alone, look at this ring.” Annalise placed her hand next to Alice’s. “I’m wearing its twin. This way we will forever be linked.”

Alice already missed her terribly, but Annalise had been wrong. The farther the Olivia Grace separated Alice from England’s shores, the lighter the burden of her past became. Perhaps it would be easy to erase the events that continued to hang about her neck like a noose.

A spray of chilled sea mist dampened her cheeks. A baptism of sorts. Her rebirth. She licked the salt from her lips and sighed. With each mile, a new Alice Tupper immerged from the tangled mess of the old.

* * * *

More than a week into their journey, the day burned warm and bright. Alice closed her book when the call came from the crow’s nest, “Ship off the starboard.”

She joined Captain Frederick as he raised his spyglass toward the approaching craft.

“It’s an English Brigandine. Mayhap they be in distress. By the size of her, she could be one of those slave haulers.”

Soon the ship closed the distance between the two and came alongside. Only half a dozen men stood on the wide deck. A voice called out across the water, “Ahoy, we be the Delmar. Permission to board?”

Fredericks called back. “Are ye in some kind of need?” He cursed under his breath. Something in his voice caused a cold shiver to run down Alice’s spine.

Boarding ladders slammed across the span between the two ships. The six men from the Delmar crossed over. Fredericks approached the boarding party and to everyone’s horror, the lead man pulled a pistol and shot the good captain dead on the spot.

Alice stumbled backward as the scene before her exploded. Women screamed and men scrambled, shouting as the assailants from the Delmar fired their pistols at whomever they saw. Her heart hammered. Blood rushed in her ears as she witnessed a tidal wave of brutal, vicious pirates flood over from the Delmar. They swarmed the deck like locusts, killing any who dared challenge them.

Time moved in a slow, heinous haze. The crew of the Olivia Grace was slaughtered before they could pull their weapons. Milly rushed past and fell as she tried to escape the vicious attack. Alice dropped to her hands and knees searching frantically for a place to hide. Her skirts made crawling near impossible. After tucking into a niche behind a stack of barrels, she prayed to survive.

The tang of blood and gunpowder filled her senses. Acrid smells returned her to the last time she wielded a weapon. The fog of sulfured smoke brought the horrific scene back to her mind. The same fear spurred her on. Tears threatened to blind her.

A high-pitched scream spun Alice around. Two pirates had Milly. Alice rushed them, shouting for them to release her only to be knocked to one side. A brutal blow to the girl’s head with the butt end of a pistol knocked her unconscious. The savage pirate tossed Milly over his shoulder like a sack of wheat and headed back to the Delmar.

In a surge of ice-cold anger, Alice fought to pull a cutlass from a dead man’s chest. She yanked at the weapon until it released. Slipping on the blood-soaked decking, she fell upon another body. The clouded eyes of dear Captain Fredericks stared back at her. Bile rose in her throat at the sight of the cavernous hole torn in the man’s neck.

She stifled a scream and scrambled away from the gruesome scene into the grasping hands of another attacker. The pirate gripped her throat with one vise-like hand and twisted her arm brutally with the other, wrenching the cutlass from her grasp. It clattered to the deck along with any hope of escape. He sneered down at her. Rotted teeth filled his mouth. He spun her about and hauled her back against his chest. Putrid breath fanned her cheek.

She shuddered and gagged at the smell of sweat and filth permeating from him. Shoving against him only made his hold upon her tighten.

“Ain’t ye a purdy one?”

He groped at her as he slammed her forward against the rails. His fingers raked against her breasts as he pinned her to the side of the ship. Kicking her legs astride, he tore her skirts.

Alice kicked back and twisted her upper body. Her elbow connected with the man’s face with a loud crack. He swore and spit at her as blood coursed from his nose.

Lunging at her, he knocked them both to the bloody deck. Alice thrashed beneath him. Punching at him, clawing at his eyes, but he grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head. He crushed her wrists with one hand while the other nearly broke her fingers as he ripped her ring from her.

“No.” Alice’s scream tore from her throat.

“Jones!” A shout stopped him short. Alice used that moment to shove him off her. The man who’d murdered Captain Fredericks stood behind her attacker pointing a pistol at the man’s greasy head.

“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.