Flopping my weary and battered body down across the top of the barrel, I let out an exhausted exhale. “Not good. Not good at all.”
A thick cloud of stinky smoke billowed out of his mouth and in my direction as he laughed.
Wafting his smoke away from my face, I gagged, “That thing smells god-awful.”
Looking me up and down, he insulted, “You smell and look god-awful.”
“Aye, I feel terrible. Never felt worse.” I laid my hand over my forehead.
Tapping the ash off of his cigarro, the salty ol’ dog chortled, “Where’s your bride to be?”
Remembering that he was part of the disaster, I shot upright and shoved his shoulder. “What the hell was that? You snarly ol’ cur. I ought to punch you for agreeing to marry me to that crazy bitch.”
“You ought to be thanking me, mate. I paid her off to wait until morning, so you could have some time to come to your senses.” He pointed at me, running his finger from my feet to my head. “Not that I’d call this sense.”
Scratching the itchy red spot around my new tattoo, I chuckled, “No sense at all. When the hell are we leaving? I’ve got nothing left and I’m starving.”
“You spent all your loot in one night?” He cocked a brow.
“I did. Well, that slimy strumpet robbed me of it. She even got the coat off my back.”
“And your sword?” he looked at my chest, lacking the baldric and scabbard that once held my prized possession.
“Yes.” I looked down, ashamed of myself for losing the sword he had gifted me. Shit, that was a bigger loss than the gold.
While wondering if I’d be able to get it back, I waited for him to scold me for being so careless, but he just shook his head and grumbled, “Last time I buy you a damn thing.”
I figured as much. “I’m sorry.”
“Save that sorry shit for yourself.” He fanned his hand at me, then glanced at my tattoo. “Among all your idiotic losses, at least you get to keep that beauty. You ought to think about marking your maps with that rose.”
Glad to hear him change the subject, I glanced down at the work of art inked over my heart to get my first good look at it. I had drawn the scripted letters and swirling arrows of the unique compass rose myself, making the east and west arrows double as the horizon line, with the sun setting into an artistic rendition of the sea. Liking what I saw, I patted my chest and agreed. “Not a bad idea. But no drawing now. All I want to do is eat.” I rubbed my rumbling belly, accidentally bumping into the aching wound on my side.
Drawing on his cigarro, he spoke with the leafy thing in his mouth. “Tell you what. I’ll buy you breakfast, but after that you’re on your own. Maybe a few days of destitution will teach you to be more responsible with your wealth and possessions.”
He gave me his burgundy coat to wear so I could be somewhat presentable. Slipping it on, I realized how much I had grown. I was almost as tall as him, and even though he was still bigger across the chest, the fancy baroque coat fit me just fine.
Following him down the dock, I thanked him for his generosity, knowing damn well that was the last I’d see of it until we set sail.
Along our walk to the inn, I told him all about my morning with Holly the Whore from Hell. Never again mentioning what a fool I was to end up in that mess, he laughed at my ridiculous tale, and even told me about the trouble she caused him the one time he bedded her. Finding out that she had dug her teeth into his flesh, I patted his back and laughed, “I heard she was a biter, but I had no idea you were one of her victims.”
Opening the door to the inn, he chuckled, “It’s not a tale I’m proud to tell. As you know, I now have my favored wench in every port, but May wasn’t there so I got impatient and settled for Holly. I heard she was magic with that vile mouth of hers. But I’ll tell you, there’s no fuck or suck in the world worth that kind of bullshit.”
Sitting down at a booth near the window, he concluded, “Take it from me, you’re better off choosing to spend your time with women who can please you without bothering you. Be in and out, and on your way until you find the one worth settling down with.”
“I’m never settling down.” I winced. “Women are crazy. And after seeing all the hell my wretch of a mother put you through—”
“If you say another foul word about your mother, I’ll blacken that other eye of yours,” he warned as he tightened his jaw and straightened his broad shoulders.
Instantly regretting the remark, I slinked back against my booth bench and apologized. He never spoke of my mother, but I had heard a few things that led me to believe he loved her, and I should have known better than to say anything shitty about the one woman who succeeded in getting her hooks in his heart.
Accepting my apology, he nodded for me to continue.
Taking a minute to remember what I was saying, I propped myself back up and spoke with a lighter tone, “I just don’t want to be stuck with the same ol’ wench bantering in my ear all my life.”
“They don’t all banter and they aren’t all bad, Sterling. If you get your arse out of the tavern and your head out of the rum, you might be likely to find yourself a woman who’s worth a damn.”
After placing our order, I chugged down a glass of water and said, “I haven’t ever found a woman worth a damn, because I’m not looking for one. Settling down is the farthest thing from my mind, and after this morning I have no interest in whores anymore either.”
“You say that now, but I reckon those thoughts will only last a day or two. And seeing you end up this way makes me think you ought to start putting some thought into your future. You’ve got too much talent to be wasting your time and money acting like a lowly pirate. With the way you draw those maps, you could get a job here in town, charting courses for the Navy or something.”
“No way, mate. I’d rather hang by the law than work for them.” I squinted at him suspiciously. “Where’s all this soft shit coming from, anyway? As far as I knew you felt the same about the law and their untrustworthy ways.”
Laying his face in his hand, he rubbed his forehead the way that he did when I was irritating him. “I do what I have to do to survive, and I’ll always do whatever it takes. Sometimes that requires breaking the law of the land, other times that means following it. I’m getting old, and the rough ways of this life we live are wearing me thin. One of these days I’m likely to retire. Get myself a house overlooking the beach and a pretty little maid to keep things…tidy.” He winked at me.
Unsure if he was serious or not, I held fast to my stance. “Well, not me. I like living this way, and I don’t plan on changing anytime soon.”
Glaring at the bruise under my eye, he smirked. “So, you like being robbed by prostitutes and having nothing to show for your earnings but a craggy ol’ pair of breeches and a bruise on your face?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s all part of the story, mate. Steadfast for the horizon, running afore the wind. I like not knowing what’s coming next.”
Just then, the server brought our food. Without saying another word, I gobbled up the biscuits, eggs, and bacon like a hog and chugged down mugs of water like an elephant, but all the while I thought about my predicament. What the hell was I going to do now? I had to endure the upcoming days with no money, no clothes, and no weapons.
This was the first time in my life that I had nothing, and I didn’t like it. Even before I became a wealthy buccaneer, I always had what I needed. My father worked hard, and though there were times I wondered how we would get our next meal, he always made it happen. Under his wing, I never went without, and at that moment I realized that he wouldn’t always be around to look out for me. I had to learn to take better care of myself.
Feeling alive and well after I ate, I thanked my father for the meal as we headed for the door. He started rambling on about his plans for the day, but my attention was drawn away from the topic when I caught sight of the pretty waitress cleaning the tables.
She was leaning across the table, wiping i
t clean with a wet rag. Her auburn braid hung over her shoulder, and her amber eyes seemed to reflect the color of the ale in the glasses she was now picking up. Though she was wearing but a peasant dress and simple bodice, I was certain she was the prettiest woman I ever laid eyes on.
“So much for losing your interest, aye?” My father patted me on the back and went on his way.
His gesture snapped me out of my reverie, but the waitress caught me staring before I broke my gaze from her. The delightful smile she flashed me made me feel as if’n it wasn’t so bad a thing to get caught doing. Though I wanted to talk to her, I only responded to her smile with a dumb grin afore I walked outside.
Squinting at the bright light of day, I slapped my forehead over the lack of sense that caused me to walk away. The way she smiled at me led me to believe she was interested in me as well, so I thought about going back in…But so what if she was? A pretty lady like that would want nothing to do with the churlish ol’ apple Jon I was at the moment. Eh, no matter what she would or wouldn’t think of me, I had more important things to deal with at the moment.
I was all alone in London with no money and no plans. Figuring I needed to find myself a job, I headed for the harbor to see if anyone at the shipping yard would pay me to work.
X
I’d started my day as broke as a beggar, spent my afternoon sweating like a hog hauling cargo for meager pay, and met the evening with a bit of change in my pocket and a feathered tricorn hat on my head. After washing up, I got myself a loaf of bread and strolled the streets of London, eyeing the sights without a care in the world.
Grey stone buildings loomed overhead, with brightly painted signs hanging above the doorways. People crowded the cobblestone walkways, bustling in and out of the shops and taverns, and beyond the common stench of the streets, the air smelled of a mix of warm bread and woody tobacco smoke. I never much liked coming to London, but after the day I’d had, I found myself enjoying the peaceful walk through the old town rather well.
As the sky turned from blue to gold, I figured it’d be best for my hapless arse to head back to the ship for the night. But the moment I turned around, I saw her. The pretty waitress was walking out of the inn and in my direction.
Busy putting things in her bag, she didn’t see me standing there, and considering my shitten circumstances, it crossed my mind to just let her pass. Yet, regardless of what I thought would be best, I called for her attention as she walked by, “Where are you headed?”
Stopping in her tracks, she glanced in my direction, her amber eyes lighting up in a way that led me to believe she’d recognized me. “Oh, uh…I’m, I’m going home…I guess.”
“You guess? How about you come for a walk with me instead?”
The blush on her cheeks matched the pink sunset colors of the clouds behind her as she said, “I’d love to walk with you. What is your name?”
Lost in the sight of her, I realized I’d been staring like a brainless arse. Shaking my head to wake myself from the trance, I stuttered, “Oh, uh, Sterling. Sterling Bentley. What’s your name?”
“Moriah Taylor.” She fiddled with her braid.
With my sense returning to me, I took her hand, bowed at the knee like a well-mannered gentleman and kissed her knuckles. “It’s my pleasure to meet you, mi’lady.”
My father had told me that was the proper way to greet a lady, and I was glad he did because she seemed to like it. I was also glad he lent me his baroque coat so I didn’t look half bad standing next to such a lovely woman.
Walking along the waterway—where the setting sun was silhouetting the ships in the harbor—I asked Moriah about her life. After learning that she was twenty-one, rented her flat from the inn owner, and worked at his place of business to cover the cost, I asked, “Have you always lived in London?”
Eyeing the sky as the sun dipped below the horizon line, she answered, “No. I grew up in the country, on a farm. I came here a couple years ago when I married a sailor.”
“You’re married?” I asked, grimacing. “What are you doing walking with me, then?”
“Don’t worry.” She laughed and put her hand on my arm. “We’re not married anymore. We had planned on going to Port Royal together, but he sent me a letter from there telling me he was through with me.”
“What a shithead,” I responded to show her some kind of sympathy, even though I was glad to hear she was indeed available.
“It’s all right. We hardly had a relationship, anyway. Honestly, I think I was more heartbroken about not going to Jamaica than I was over losing him. See, I have always wanted to travel, and I still intend to someday. But for now I have to work as often as I can to get by. I don’t mind, though. It’s kind of nice to know I have found a way to make it as a woman alone.”
“I can respect that. There’s great pride in being self-sufficient. That’s why I do what I do.”
Stopping in front of me, she planted her hands on her curvy hips and looked me over with a curious squint. “And what is it that you do, Sterling Bentley?”
“I’m a buccaneer,” I boastfully stated and waited for her to swoon. But she didn’t.
“A buccaneer, huh?” She poked my shoulder and giggled as if’n she wasn’t taking me seriously. “Where are all your fearsome weapons?”
Suddenly not feeling so self-assured, I nervously scratched my head and reluctantly relayed half the truth. “I got robbed for all I was worth this morning.” There was no way in hell I was going to tell her I was attacked and robbed by a prostitute.
“So that’s how you got the black eye?” She kinked her head to the side.
Glad that she couldn’t also see the bloody gash across my side, I chuckled at her expression as much as the notion of my own crazy life. “Aye.”
“So what are you going to do now?” she asked as we took to walking again.
“Ah, I got myself a job at the harbor to make up for what I lost. It should keep me busy and fed as long as I’m in port.” It sounded good, but there was no job ashore that could ever make up for the amount of plundered loot that slut stole from me. Thinking of her spending it wildly, while I wandered around like a vagabond, caused my eye to twitch.
“That’s good,” she simply stated, and went on to ask questions about my new job.
She didn’t say another word about me being a buccaneer. And that was strange to me. I was used to women throwing themselves in my lap while gawking over my tales of adventure, but any mention I made of sword fights or Spanish gold didn’t seem to impress Moriah at all. Though she appeared to have no interest in these things that made me who I was, I sure was liking everything about her. She was pretty as could be, amusing and independent, and I’d be dreaming about that body of hers for years to come. Damnation. What the hell was I going to do?
Determined to keep her attention before she lost interest in me, I thought back over the things she had been telling me about herself. Remembering her desire to travel the world, I told her I was a navigator.
Her amber eyes lit up. “A navigator?”
I’d roped her back in.
She went on to ask me a million questions about my knowledge. I happily answered each one in great detail, and after a while she grabbed my hands. “So you’re not just a drunk and gold hungry buccaneer. You have a knowledgeable trade. I like that.”
Feeling confident again, I squeezed her pretty little hands in mine. “I do like my rum and I love my gold, but there’s more to my lifestyle than those things, beauty.” I winked at her. “Like you, I’m self-sufficient. I can hunt to feed myself, I can sail to get where I need to be, and I can fight to defend what I love.”
“And when need be, you can work at the harbor like a common citizen,” she added with a sly smile.
Suddenly taking a bit of pride in the way I was handling my shitty situation, I remembered and relayed my father’s good words. “I do what I have to do to survive. And sometimes that means following the law of the land.”
“Well, you
’re quite fortunate to be able to do what you love most of the time. How long have you been studying navigation?”
“I first took to the sea at four years old, and I’ve been studying the tide and the skies ever since.”
“That’s marvelous, Sterling. I can’t believe you have been sailing all of your life. Will you tell me some of the tales of your travels?”
Walking along as the sky slowly fell dark above us, and the windows of the town lit up one by one, I took my time telling her about the ports and shores I’d been to. Her interest in the finest details of the lands I’d visited and cultures I’d adventured, made me realize how fortunate I was to have seen so much of the world.
“So where is your favorite place to visit?” Moriah asked, as she leaned her head on my shoulder.
“Now that I know you’re here, I think it might be London.”
She playfully patted my cheek. “Is that what you tell your favored lady in every port?”
Thinking back over all the women of the world I’d experienced, I just chuckled and responded to her original question. “It’s hard to say which land is my favorite. I like the weather in Italy, the food in France, and the people in Singapore, but I think I like the Caribbean best. There, you find a good mix of all the cultures, plus the islands down there have inspired my best artwork.”
“You’re an artist?” She perked up.
“Aye. I draw landscapes and shorelines to add to my maps.”
“That is wonderful, Sterling. I am spending my evening with a world traveling artist of the sea. How about that?”
Something about her summary of my lifestyle went straight to my soul. A world traveling artist of the sea. I liked that title much better than the black-hearted, whore of a man, pirate I was cursed as earlier this morning.
“I am an artist, too,” she said, drawing me from my thoughts. “I sell my paintings to help pay my rent.”
“Ah, I like that. What do you paint?”
“Mostly what I see out my window…” Tugging at my hand, she pulled me back towards the town center. “Why don’t you come over and I’ll show you? It’s too cold to be out here anymore.”
Tale Of A Traveler (Tales Of A Navigator): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories Page 2
