Black Wolf

by Lori Ann Robinson

  “I see we found more than coin and fine fabrics on this vessel,” she said, rising and replacing her tri-corn.

  “I found ‘er trying to escape into the hold, Captain.” The pirate who’d captured Adrienne said.

  The woman looked around at the fallen crew and raised an eyebrow. “Did you leave any survivors save this girl?”

  “Aye,” said another, as he pushed through the crowd. The man was dragging a boy by the collar that Adrienne recognized as the galley assistant and presented him to the female.

  “Boy,” the woman intoned, her voice ripe with warning. “Think carefully and do not lie to me, for your very life depends on it. Who is this woman and what is her position aboard your ship?

  His eyes were wide with fear and he trembled under the female leader’s fierce glare. “Captain, I’ve never seen her before in my life. She must have stowed away. The cook and I noticed food was missing along with flasks of wine not more than a day ago. We suspected a crew member of stealing extra rations.”

  The captain studied him closely, gauging the words the boy said until finally she turned her attention on Adrienne.

  “Were you secreted upon board as a whore for the captain?” She asked. Her eyes traveled Adrienne’s body; lingering on the faded bruises Miles had given her.

  “No. The captain and crew had no knowledge of my presence on board. I stowed away in Charleston while they were busy loading cargo. No one saw,” Adrienne answered, her chin coming up in defiance.

  She’d spent the better part of the last few months in fear and would waste no more time on it. If she were to die, she’d do it looking her murderer in the eyes.

  The two women stood, appraising one another, eyes squarely met as they took each other’s measure. They were close to same age, Adrienne supposed, though a life at sea made the other woman’s skin slightly more weathered, hardening her features in a way Adrienne had only just begun to understand life could harden a person.

  “Bring her to my office,” the Captain snapped to her men. “And continue searching the ship.”

  “Wait,” Adrienne called out before the captain could turn away. “I’m not alone. I have a small Bahaman boy with me. He’s my ward. You’ll find him hiding in an alcove in the hull. Please don’t harm him.”

  An emotion that she couldn’t decipher flickered in the other woman’s eyes as she stared past Adrienne to one of her men. They exchanged a glance and the captain nodded to him.

  “Bring her,” the woman growled, crossing the gangplank to return to her own vessel.

  Adrienne was clasped about the arm, more gently this time by a seaman who escorted her across the gangplank that created a bridge between the two ships as the female captain led the way to an opening just off the main deck.

  Turning down a corridor Adrienne was taken to a room equipped with a large desk, a small cot and maps, which were spread out on every surface.

  She was instructed to sit and did so without hesitation, more curious now than afraid. Adrienne wondered how a woman had become a captain and how her men followed her lead without question or reservation. She’d never seen the like. Nor heard of it, for that matter.

  Coming into to the room, the captain ordered her crewmember to leave them and close the door. Doffing her cap once again, she tossed it on the wide expanse of her desk and stared out the port window in silence for a moment, giving Adrienne the impression the woman was gathering her thoughts.

  Seconds ticked by before the captain turned to her and took a seat behind the desk. “Would you care to explain why you stowed away on a ship in the Carolina colonies bound for the West Indies?”

  Adrienne lifted a shoulder. “For the same reason you’re living a life at sea. Freedom.”

  The woman’s mouth set in a grim line. “Now is not the time to attempt bravery, m’lady. You should remember that there is nothing stopping me from turning you over to my men.”

  “If you were going to do that, I think you’d have done so already.” She hoped at any rate, but one could never be too sure of anything, apparently. Adrienne had been positive just up to half an hour ago that there was no such thing as a female pirate, yet here she sat in front of one who was assessing her with a smirk.

  “Believing that I have some sort of loyalty to you just because we share gender will be your first mistake, Miss…?” The captain paused, waiting for Adrienne to fill in the question.

  “St. John. Adrienne St. John.” She refused to supply her married name as she didn’t accept her marriage to Miles nor did want to risk that he’d put a reward out for her capture. Woman or not, pirates lived for money and though her husband chose to live frugally, as suited his Puritanical nature, Adrienne was aware Miles Fletcher was quite wealthy.

  “Miss St. John, then,” the woman said, trying the name out. “I assure you, you would not be the first woman I’ve turned over to my men.”

  Adrienne swallowed, paled slightly, and the captain nodded, a knowing smile crossing her face.

  “I see I have your attention. Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Your reason for stowing away on a cargo vessel?”

  “I was running from someone,” she answered.

  “I ascertained as much. Whom? If the crew onboard the ship didn’t give you those bruises then they must be a gift from whomever you were attempting to escape.” She leveled her eyes on Adrienne, her gaze demanding honesty.

  “My husband. It was an arranged marriage and not a happy one,” Adrienne told the captain in a voice devoid of emotion.

  “I see. And the boy? Did you steal him?”

  “No!” Adrienne shouted, afraid that if they believed Raul was stolen goods, they would attempt to sell him to the highest bidder at the next port. “He was put in my care by… a friend.”

  She didn’t know why she couldn’t bring herself to speak Nicolai’s name to the woman. The pirating world was vast, but his reputation was considerable as well. Surely the woman before her would know of the Black Wolf but Adrienne had yet to determine if the female captain were friend or foe. Until then, she would protect Nicolai at all costs.

  “This friend, would they be searching for you?” The captain asked.

  “I don’t know. He was at sea when the boy and I were abducted by men who delivered me to my betrothed.”

  The door opened and Raul was brought in by the man the captain had charged with the task of finding him. The small boy ran to Adrienne and climbed in her lap. Wrapping her arms securely around his body, she held him tightly. The captain watched the reunion between the woman and child as she dismissed her man.

  “Miss St. John, I’ll offer you refuge aboard my ship and safety from my men but I want to hear every detail about what transpired in Charleston, which led you to hiding away in the hull of that ship.”

  Adrienne clutched Raul tighter to her and began to recount her story.

  Chapter 13

  Nicolai disembarked at Charleston Harbor, the picture of the perfect English merchant. Even his accent was impeccable as he gave the order for his men to begin unloading casks of fine French wine, bolts of expensive Parisian fabrics, and delicate lace.

  His ship loomed behind him, painted a dark gray to blend in with a few of the more well-known trading company vessels that ran the channels between England and the New World. Parting with some of the riches from previous excursions was no hardship if it led him to finding Adrienne and the boy. He arranged to have the goods delivered to the mercantile where one of his men would haggle over the sale, giving them an air of legitimacy, while he and the rest of his crew explored the settlement in an attempt to locate the pair. They agreed to meet at the town’s only tavern and inn later in the day to exchange information.

  Appearing to casually stroll through the town center, Nicolai noted the modest homes, which dotted his surroundings. They were bare clapboard houses with no frills, as cold as their Puritan owners.

  Looking around, he couldn’t imagine Adrienne in a place like this and believed his first impression of
her had been true. Her spark would surely have been extinguished in a place such as this. Raul’s as well. He surveyed the common house and noted that a young boy was held in the stocks. Tears tracked down the child’s face as people passed by uncaring of his misery.

  This was why he’d chosen Nassau to settle in. For all its harshness as a pirate’s playground, there was freedom to be had there. Freedom from madness such as this place where youth were humiliated and tormented for even the smallest transgressions. Damned Puritans.

  Everything in Nicolai demanded he release the child, but knowing it would bring unwanted attention to himself, he refrained, instead turning his head away from the scene with regret. Perhaps if the boy were still there upon locating Raul and Adrienne, he’d have one of the men sneak over and release him come nightfall. Though, likely, the boy’s parents would march him straight back up those steps and clap him in the stocks again by morning.

  Finding the tavern, Nicolai went in and ordered a pint of ale, choosing a table in the center of the room. It would allow him to watch the door while listening to din of conversation around him.

  A smattering of men were in the establishment sharing drink and meals and as he sorted through the various small talk conducted near by, he honed in on one particular conversation.

  “The man had the nerve accuse my wife of hiding his.” The speaker wore a flat-topped hat and drank deeply from a tankard of ale.

  “Losing a woman and a slave in the same day is a hard blow for any man,” the companion said. “Fletcher is ill-tempered as it is and more than once my good wife expressed pity for his, but it’s a woman’s lot to endure. He’s sent men inland as well as to sea in search of her. I hear tell, he’s gone himself to the search. He’ll find her. Aye, and when he does, she’ll be sorrowful for having left him and stolen his property to boot.”

  The first man nodded. “Aye. T’was my wife that assisted in the delivery of the dead babe. She said the poor woman was covered in bruises from the beating Fletcher gave her and the babe was so early in stage that it would have never survived such a hard blow to the womb. Thanked me, she did, for being such a kind husband.”

  Nicolai saw red, but reminded himself to remain calm. He would learn nothing else if he reacted. Gripping the edge of the table in one hand and his tankard in the other, he ground his molars hard as he struggled to rein in his temper.

  The man and his companion continued talking and Nicolai forced himself to listen closely.

  “Has Fletcher any idea where the woman may have run off to?” His companion asked. Nicolai saw the other man shake his head out of the corner of his eye.

  “Nay,” the man answered. “Perhaps she took off into the wild lands and was captured by savages? Her husband had all the ships at port searched once he discovered the woman and the slave were missing.”

  “Heard he demanded her dowry still be delivered,” the companion offered.

  “Aye, William St. John will be displeased when he receives the missive, but what choice does he have? Fletcher did what was required and married the man’s daughter. The dowry is legally his even if the woman is gone,” the man said.

  “True, so it is,” his companion answered, draining his tankard and standing. “I’m for home. Good morrow to you.”

  Nicolai tried to process the conversation between the two men. Fletcher had beaten Adrienne, caused her to miscarry a babe? Was he the father or Fletcher? His mind spun as he battled between rage and grief. When he found Adrienne’s husband he would gut the man alive and allow him to watch his entrails spill from his belly.

  The thought of another man’s hands on Adrienne was enough to twist his heart and sour his stomach but he could have tolerated it if he’d overheard that she was happily content with her new life.

  Hearing that she’d been beaten with severity as well as regularity chilled him. Her body was so small, so petite that it wouldn’t take much effort to expend serious damage. And while Nicolai was old fashioned enough to believe that a husband was lord and master of a wife, he also believed that it was the mark of a true leader to be kind to those weaker than he.

  The fact that Fletcher was personally searching for her and the boy, was the only thing that saved his life. Had he still been in Charleston, Nicolai would have sought him out and ran him through, consequences be damned. As it was, he’d worry about killing Adrienne’s husband later. There were more pressing issues. Fletcher had a head start in a race to find Adrienne; a race Nicolai now felt it imperative to win. He spied Damon and Copper coming through the tavern door and rose, meeting them at the entrance.

  “Come,” he said sternly. “We must speak elsewhere. I have news.”

  Both men exchanged glances at their captain’s darkened eyes and intensity. Whatever news he had to impart, they feared it didn’t bode well for Adrienne or the boy as they followed him out of the tavern.

  Chapter 14

  “Again,” Captain Merribel Mayweather ordered, pointing to the sword that lay on the deck of her ship.

  Adrienne groaned. Her arms and legs were shaking from the effort she expended while learning the art of sword fighting.

  “Mercy,” she called out, pleading for a break.

  Merri laughed. “Adrienne, should we ever be captured and overtaken, no man will listen to your cries of mercy. You must be ready and capable of defending yourself at all times. Now, pick up your sword and begin again.”

  Bending at the waist, Adrienne retrieved the heavy cutlass Merri had knocked out of her hand moments ago and readied her stance.

  Raising the sword, she focused on counting her feints and parried steps in her mind as she swooped first low and then high, the thin metal whistling through the air as she did so. Merri’s sword clashed with hers, the impact ringing up Adrienne’s arm into her shoulder painfully. She winced but continued on, turning to block blow after blow the ship’s captain rained down upon her.

  Perspiration dripped from her face and neck, dampening the white cotton blouse she wore tucked into a pair of cabin boy’s breeches and cinched with a swath of red scarf around her slender waist. Her black knee high leather boots shuffled over the planks of the deck as the ring of metal against metal filled the air.

  Adrienne found she rather enjoyed her new attire. The captain was several inches taller and after attempting to wear a dress loaned to her by Merri, Adrienne had given up after the garment kept tangling around her feet and legs. Begging clothing from one of the smallest cabin boys had proven to be a better solution.

  She loved freedom the men’s britches afforded her movements though Merri, whose legs were confined by long skirts, swirled and twirled gracefully without hindrance.

  “It’s all about practice,” the captain said when Adrienne questioned how the woman moved with such heavy hindrance around her feet.

  Be that as it may, Adrienne didn’t think she could effectively defend herself wrapped in layers of linen and brocade.

  Their first few weeks together had been tenuous at best as they learned more about one another. Merri was the illegitimate daughter of a famous deceased pirate.

  Orphaned, she’d had to fend for herself on the streets of Tortuga, a place that by the other woman’s accounts made Nassau seem tame.

  At 11, she’d posed as a cabin boy, shearing off her long black curls and spent the next several years at sea climbing through the ranks under an obscure and unremarkable captain.

  By age 15, she’d staged a mutiny, having won the loyalty of her fellow seamen. The crew had been unaware of her gender, believing her to be just a baby-faced lad, something that was quite a challenge in the close confines of a ship.

  They also believed her to be shy as she never roamed the deck bare-chested the way the other seamen often did. She’d explained that she kept her breasts tightly bound in order to keep them disguised. When the men went whoring, she accompanied them, paying prostitutes to keep her secret.

  As a result, Merri had garnered the friendship and support of many of the whores,
whom had no issue reporting to their other customers what generous, virile lover their crewmate was.

  At 17, fully seated as captain, one of her men entered her chamber without knocking and discovered what she’d been hiding for years. She’d ruthlessly cut him down in front of the rest of the crew to make an example of what would happen should they get the idea that she was the weaker sex. Neither her authority, nor her gender, had ever been an issue again.

  They were a small outfit, but had seen moderate success in pirating. Merri informed Adrienne that she owned a large plantation on Malaga, an island off the coast of Spain. Her plans, when she tired of plundering and riding the high seas, would be to retire there peacefully without a man in sight.

  As their friendship grew, Adrienne’s respect for the woman grew as well. Merri wanted no part in marriage or raising children, choosing her own destiny, as Adrienne had always desired to do. And though the female captain listened patiently as Adrienne pined for Nicolai, whose name she’d yet to reveal, the other woman would often roll her eyes and inform her that there was more to life than cock.

  Adrienne’s concentration was broken as she’d lost herself in thought and the sword flew out of her hand, embedding into wooden column of the ship’s largest mast, right next to the head of the Sailing Master, Michaels.

  The tall man raised an eyebrow, a smile quirking his lips as he plucked it from the pole and hefted it in his hand while the two women heaved from exertion.

  “You’ve improved,” he told her, handing the weapon over. “Soon you’ll be as proficient at fighting as any of us.”

  Adrienne nodded in thanks as she accepted the sword as well as the compliment, too winded to respond in kind.

  The Sailing Master watched her with interest. He was attractive with his rawboned, muscular frame, broad shoulders, trim waist and dark hair; but he was no Nicolai. His heated appraisal of her didn’t stir a reaction in her core as the Russian pirate had.