The Blackened Soul

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by Candace Osmond


  The day had long disappeared before I opened my eyes again. Blackness surrounded me, and the fire raged by my side. For once, I actually found it a bit warm, thanks to the thick blanket. I peeled it open to let out some of the heat but screamed when I realized I was not alone.

  “Good evenin’ to you, too,” the man said calmly. He crouched in the sand on the other side of the fire as he nibbled on something.

  “W-who are you?” I demanded. Discreetly, I felt around under the blanket to ensure my knife was still in the pocket of my jacket. It was.

  “Name’s Benjamin,” he replied.

  “What do you want?”

  His sharp jaw widened as a malicious grin spread across his dirty face and his dark, brooding eyes glared at me from under a thick brow. “Oh, I don’t believe you’re ready for that answer, sweetness.”

  “My name is Dianna,” I sternly corrected.

  Benjamin finished whatever he had been eating; some sort of baked good from what I could see and stood tall. He was a large man, height wise, with shoulder-length black hair that hung from underneath a tattered pirate’s hat. My visitor, clad in common pirate garb, made his way around the fire and over to me. His clunky leather boots stopped at my feet and he peered down, showing me the hint of a scar that ran through one of his black eyebrows. I held his gaze and dared not show fear.

  “You’ll be comin’ with me now.”

  “Indeed I won’t,” I told him stubbornly.

  He sighed impatiently. “Look, sweetness, I have orders. You’re comin’ with me willingly or by force. I’m kind enough to let you choose.” My empty response was enough of an answer. “Have it your way.” Benjamin bent down and grabbed both my arms, hauling me to my feet. He spun me around, so my back was pressed against his chest and his hands began to feel me up.

  “Excuse me!” I cried and elbowed him in the gut.

  He spat out a puff of air and then grabbed me again. “Jesus! I was just checkin’ if you had weapons.”

  “I’ll come willingly,” I gave in, “but you’ll keep your hands to yourself. Understand?”

  The pirate clutched me by the arm and yanked hard, dragging me along as he headed off toward the forest. “You’re in no position to be makin’ orders.”

  “Why? What did I do?”

  He stopped, briefly, and glanced at me from over his shoulder. “You showed up.”

  My throat tightened, along with every muscle in my body, and I swallowed hard against the dryness. Silently, I followed Benjamin into the woods. The only sound was that of the earth crunching beneath our boots and our labored breaths as we walked. He refused to release his grip around my arm, but at least it loosened.

  We trudged along, through trees and over creeks. It seemed to go on forever. I tried to soak in our surroundings, to make a map in my head of how to get back in the event I escaped. But it was too dark. I could barely see five feet in front of me, so I settled for studying the Viking-like pirate before me. God, he was tall. More so than Henry. Heck, maybe even Finn who was an easy six and a half feet. In addition to a narrow sword sheathed at his side, Benjamin also had a large mallet and an array of knives dangling from his leather belt.

  Clearly, he was not one to be messed with.

  “So, do you live here on this island alone?” I asked him, thinking back to when he mentioned having orders. I waited for him to respond, which took a while. He seemed to carefully mull over his words.

  “No.”

  “How many of you are there?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough, sweetness.”

  “My name is Dianna,” I reminded him through gritted teeth. It made me think back to my time on The Devil’s Heart when the boys kept calling me wench. It royally pissed me off then, too.

  “Whatever you say, sweetness.” His back was to me but, I swear, the grin could be heard in his response.

  We walked some more until I could spot the moon’s reflection on the water glistening through the trees. We emerged from the forest and crossed the pebbly beach before stopping at the water’s edge as if waiting for something.

  “What are we doing?” I dared ask.

  “Waiting.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Obviously. But for what?” Or whom? I added to myself.

  “For our ride,” the man replied and walked toward the water’s edge, pulling me behind.

  I was about to protest, to kick the pirate in the leg and then take off running. But where would I go? What would I do? I had a knife. I could defend myself. But something told me I’d need more than just defence against Benjamin. The only way I was escaping his grip was if one of us died.

  Suddenly, the glow of the moon on the ocean’s surface glistened and moved, creating a cascade of ripples. I stopped struggling against my captor and stared in awe as a dark object began to float to the top and bob there. Waiting.

  It was an empty rowboat.

  My mouth gaped. “How–”

  “Just c’mon,” Benjamin ordered with a growl and yanked me toward the small wooden boat. “Get in.”

  “Why?”

  His brown eyes rolled under the shadow of his furrowed brow. “Because I told you to.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see,” he assured me with a sly confidence.

  I stood my ground. “No, I’m not some flighty country girl who washed ashore, you know. I’m a pirate.” I held my chin high. “A captain, in fact.”

  Benjamin’s eyes widened as he leaned back and raised his brows. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.” I couldn’t tell if he was just humoring me or not.

  He held his hands out and glanced around in a mock fashion. “Where’s your ship, captain?”

  “It… we hit that storm that just passed,” I told him, trying not to let my emotions show through in my words. “My crew were still aboard when I got thrown over the side.”

  The pirate remained calm, eerily so, as he nodded. His eyes glancing down at the sand thoughtfully. He took a few steps toward me and stopped before taking in a deep breath. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  Was he actually showing me mercy? Would he let me go? But before I could sigh in relief, he scooped me up and placed me in the rowboat. “You may have been the imaginary captain of some ship, but you’re a prisoner aboard mine now.” He jumped in beside me and grabbed the oars. “Get used to it, sweetness. You’re not goin’ anywhere.”

  I scrambled to a sitting position, panic hot in my veins. “You can’t just kidnap people!”

  “Yes, I can.” His massive fists clutched the oars and paddled with ease. “This is my island.”

  I let out a snort. “No one owns this island. It’s not even on the map.” Suddenly, my stomach tightened at the next thought that ran through my mind. “Besides, you’re taking me away from the island. Surely you don’t think this little thing can stand the open waters?”

  “We’re not headin’ for open waters,” Benjamin informed me with a hint of annoyance in his tone.

  “Then where–”

  His head tipped in the direction behind me and I spun around on the narrow wooden plank. At first, I saw nothing. Just the open ocean and the cool silver glow of the moon. But, for a split second, that same cool silver glow… shimmered. As if it were a mirage. The closer we got, the more I could see the strange curtain-like veil. All I could think of were the dozens of movies I’d seen, where you see an invisible object, how it sometimes shudders. Like it doesn’t belong.

  I held my hand out to touch the ghostly curtain as our little rowboat slowly passed through it. It felt as cold as the November sea below us and as soft as silk sheets. But my moment of awestricken wonder came to a screeching halt at the next sight before me. It seemed that the magical veil was hiding something. Something… big.

  My eyes raked over the enormous vessel before us. Blackened wood covered every visible inch, canons lined the sides, and four large masts towered to the clouds. Portholes were aglow with candlelight, as was the doubl
e-decker stern that hung from the back with gorgeous stained-glass windows. My stomach tightened with every dip the oars put in the water. I was being taken prisoner aboard a pirate ship for the second time in my life and I had no way of escape.

  “There she is,” Benjamin spoke. “Get a good look, sweetness. It’ll be your home for a long time.”

  I spun back around and looked at the man with panicked eyes, begging for mercy. But he only grinned maliciously and let out a deep, growly chuckle.

  “Welcome to The Black Soul.”

  Chapter Six

  Ididn’t sleep at all. And who could blame me? The only thing I had to lay down on was a thin bed of grass that lined the grimy floor of the brig. It had been late when Benjamin pulled me aboard last night. The crew should have been sleeping, but I still felt eyes on me as he yanked me across the deck and down the hatches until we reached the holding cell.

  My back ached, and my mind was foggy from lack of sleep. But at least it was daytime and the sun shone in through the portholes. I could examine my surroundings much better. The brig consisted of three cells, separated by thick metal bars. Outside were stacks of small crates and various sacs of things. All mismatched and not seeming to belong to one ship. That much I could tell from the different symbols on certain ones. These supplies, whatever they may be, were definitely stolen.

  My eyes scanned every inch in front of me, every crack and hole. Any possible way out. The bars which contained me were far enough apart that I could have squeezed through them if I weren’t pregnant. They were definitely made to hold men, not a slender frame of a woman like me. That left the lock. If I could find something to pick it with, then I could sneak out while the men slept. I could knock them all unconscious, one by one. And then sail the ship to England where I could find help. It was a long shot, pretty much impossible. But the only option I had.

  The sudden sound of footsteps approaching tore me from my escape plans and I backed up as far into the cell as I could. My right hand dipped into the pocket of my coat and gripped the pocket knife tightly. When the massive form of Benjamin came into view, I slightly relaxed, but still held my guard.

  “Good morning, sweetness,” he greeted and balanced a tray in one hand while the other fished for a giant ring of keys that hung from his leather belt. “Hungry?”

  “Starving,” I told him. “But I’d much rather eat in freedom.”

  I watched as he slipped an old iron key in the lock and pulled open the cell door. “Not a chance.” He set the tray down on the floor and then backed out, closing the bars behind him.

  “Why not?” I demanded and then added, teasingly, “Come on, you’re not afraid of me, are you? A mere woman?”

  He guffawed. “I’m just takin’ precautions.” His deep brown eyes glared at me and then flicked to the tray on the floor. “Aren’t you gonna eat?”

  I took a few steps forward and glanced down at the bowl, expecting some sort of gruel or pirate slop. But I was pleasantly surprised to find fried fish. My mouth watered. The baby was definitely craving protein. But I tried to hide my eagerness to shove the whole thing in my mouth. Instead, I bent down and grabbed the bowl before backing up to my corner and picking at the delicious meal with my fingers.

  “Listen,” Benjamin began and then sighed as he took a seat on an old wooden stool. “Anyone who can survive that storm and swim ashore is more than just a mere woman. And one who can set up a camp, build a shelter, and gut a fish like it was second nature is a woman with some skills. I want to know more before I let you start roamin’ our ship.”

  So, he was testing me, feeling me out.

  “Look, I’m no threat. I swear,” I told the pirate. “What I told you was the truth. There was a storm. I was swept overboard. I need to get back to my camp and keep the fire going so my ship can find me.”

  He seemed to consider my words. But, after a moment, his mouth turned to a frown. “It’s not goin’ to happen. The captain wants you to stay.”

  Panic filled my veins. “What? Why? He can’t just keep me! What for?”

  Benjamin cocked his head and raised an eyebrow at me. “We’re a bunch of lonely pirates and you’re…” he paused and motioned to me, scanning me up and down.

  Bile rose in my throat when I realized what he meant. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Captain’s order, sweetness.”

  I ran to the bars and held on tight, locking our eyes together. “If anyone lays a finger on me, it’ll be the last thing they touch.”

  The pirate stood with a grin and adjusted his heavy leather belt. “See? That’s why you’re locked up.” He jangled the key ring in my face. “Precautions.”

  And then, just like that, he was gone.

  ***

  Three more days passed. I picked at the lock, pulling and clanking it against the metal bars. But nothing worked. Like clockwork, Benjamin would come twice a day and bring me fried fish and stale buns. He would stay, pry me with questions about myself until I frustrated him and then he’d storm off.

  But, each day, he’d return for more. He’d prod me with inquiries of who I was, where I came from. At first, he’d play nice. Patient. But I found it too enjoyable to toy with his tolerance. It quickly became my only source of entertainment, watching the Viking-like pirate’s face turn red in annoyance. On the third day, he’d had enough.

  I stood from my pile of grass, my back achy and sore from the lack of a soft surface to sleep or even sit on. I had procrastinated using the bathroom as long as I could, in an attempt to limit the waste that began to fill the farthest corner of my cell. But the smell was beginning to make me ill.

  Benjamin twisted the key and unlocked the cell door before he tossed my bowl of food on the floor, its contents spilling everywhere. I glared up at him.

  “Was there any need of that?” I asked him.

  “I can make sure there’s no need to feed you at all,” he threatened.

  I stood with my arms crossed, silent. I didn’t like the way he hung around, not leaving my cell to sit outside of it as he usually did. His deep brown eyes glared at me from under his thick brow, regarding me in a way that made my skin crawl. Slowly, he took a couple of steps toward me and my heart beat wildly.

  “W-what do you want?” I asked him.

  Another couple of steps closer. I saw his fingers fiddling at his sides, curling and tightening into fists before releasing again and again. “You know what I want.”

  I backed up until my skin touched the cold bars of the adjacent cell and I struggled to control my nervous breathing. Please, I begged the universe, don’t let him touch me. I dared not cry. I refused to let this man turn me into a weak thing that he could so easily bend. He was too close now, I could feel the pirate’s hot breath on my face and his one hand lifted, carefully sweeping the straggly hair from my shoulder.

  His head tipped down and he whispered in my ear. “But not yet. You’re not ready.”

  Benjamin then spun on his heel and sauntered out of my cell, leaving me gasping for a full breath and silently thanking the heavens that he didn’t touch me. But how long could I avoid it? I longed for Henry. His protective embrace. His raspy tone to sooth my mind. But I had to force my mind to stow away the thoughts, they turned dark too fast and I constantly worried whether Henry had made it through the storm. That they all did.

  The brig became dampened with the glow of the setting sun before I heard the noise of approaching footsteps again. I expected Benjamin, but these were quieter. Lighter. More careful. As if they were sneaking up on me. I stood and retreated to my corner, fingers around the knife as I waited for them to come into view. The footsteps came to a halt, but no one was in sight.

  “Who’s there?” I called out.

  A small foot poked out from the shadows of the hallway. “Shhh,” they said. “Be quiet. I'm not s'posed to be here.”

  I lowered my voice. “Then come out so I can see you.”

  The man, a decrepit thing, shuffled out of the darknes
s and made his way over to the wooden stool. I watched as his feet scuffed along and frowned at the strange curvature of his hunched back. The relief on his face when he sat down was palpable.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you a’tall,” he spoke, a worn old accent from England somewhere. “The men be busy, I figure it a good time to pay you a visit.”

  He seemed harmless enough. But I kept my distance. Who knew what these men had planned for me. “Who are you?”

  “Pleeman,” the old man answered. “The ship’s cook.”

  I nodded, continuing to size him up. I’d been a prisoner aboard a ship once. And their cook was a murderer who tried to kill Henry. “What do you want?”

  “Do you enjoy the fish?”

  I couldn’t tell if he misheard me or simply ignored my question. “Yes, thank you, it’s delicious.”

  “I apologize in advance for the amount of fried fish you’ll be eating. It’s all we have around, I’m afraid. Besides a bit of flour.” He appeared sad and slightly bored with the thought of frying another fish.

  I took that as an opportunity. “You know,” I began, “I’m a cook, too.”

  He looked at me curiously. “I hear you’re a captain.”

  “I’m both,” I told him. “I was a cook, a very good one, for many years before I became captain of my ship. I could help you make something besides plain fish. I can forage. I know the island has plenty of berries and edible roots. If you let me out, I can make you guys a dish to die for.”

  Pleeman smiled. “I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to let you go, Miss. I’d be risking my own head if I did.”

  “Please,” I begged, giving him my most sorrowful look. “My crew are probably looking for me. I have to make a fire and signal them.”

  “Your crew surely didn’t survive the storm, Miss. There’s no way.”

  “But, I did,” I replied. With the help of some sea creature. But I wouldn’t tell him that. “Look, they’re more than just my crew. They’re my family. I have to believe that they made it. That they’re looking for me.”

 

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