The Siren's Song

by Jennifer Bray-Weber

  “Again!” Quint called.

  Sam’s face trembled from the exertion, his teeth bared. Water rushed past him as if he was a boulder rising from the surf. Valeryn cleaved his knife into a groove and wiggled the dagger back and forth. Quint scraped her blade along the iron edge, dislodging small stones.

  His friends needed his help.

  “No.” Gilly held Drake back. “Trust them, Thayer. You’ll need your strength to swim out of here.”

  He looked into Gilly’s unwavering eyes. Her newfound courage continued to surprise him. ’Twas as if these last few days had made her wise, wiser than so many men who have perished in the face of danger. A man could be tough and skilled, but their true lot came when courting death. Embracing courage often defined whether one lived or died. With water lapping at their chins and their hands on the ceiling to keep from being swept down the corridor, death was closer than comfortable.

  “A moment more,” he said.

  She nodded, understanding he would not die without a fight.

  “Almost!” Valeryn yelled. “You can do it, Sam! Come on, mate!”

  Sam had the grate pulled partially away from its anchor, but he tired, and would not be able to hold the leverage gained much longer. Henri grabbed Valeryn’s shirt, crawling over him. The little man grasped a hold on Sam and, like a fancy-frocked performing monkey, scampered up the large man’s back. Henri shoved his flask into the opening just as Sam’s arms gave out. Sam fought to catch his breath.

  “Hurry!” Quint said. “Before the water is too high!”

  Sam wrapped his meaty fingers around the bars once more. He bellowed as he yanked and rocked the grate. The grate burst free, clanking against the wall before sinking. Sam tumbled back with the rush of water.

  Drake grabbed Henri’s vest as he was washed from Sam’s back. “Got you!”

  Henri choked, capturing Drake’s arm. “Ya better, lad.”

  “Get ready,” Valeryn called.

  Gilly’s brow creased. “What are we waiting for?”

  “The water must rise above the opening. We will be able to swim through without the current pushing us back.”

  “Will you be able to swim?”

  “I have to, love. To ensure you make it out alive.”

  “Here we go!” Valeryn and Quint dove under the water.

  Sam grabbed Henri’s shirt collar. Henri nodded, and they both slipped from sight.

  “Take deep breaths,” he instructed. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay with you.”

  She smiled and nodded. Together, hand in hand, they took in their breath in the last pocket of air and dropped beneath the surface. He felt for the opening and pulled her through. Once on the other side, he let her go so they could both swim. Visibility did not exist in the black water, and he prayed that she kicked and swam with all her might. Cool water grew warmer. They were close to the surface.

  Drake broke the surface, gasping and coughing. His lungs were on fire. He treaded water, struggling to get his bearings, listening for sounds of Gilly.

  “Gilly! Gilly!” He swam to the harbor shore until his feet touched the sea bottom. Where was she? Why didn’t she answer him? Panic speared his heart. He couldn’t lose her again. Not now. Not ever. Please, Lord, give her the strength to survive. “Gilly!”

  “Thayer!”

  She’s alive! Relief exploded his panic into a thousand tiny pieces. “Here! I’m here!” Drake plodded toward the splashing bedlam, toward his woman. Reaching her, he pulled her tight against him, breathing her in, feeling her wet skin.

  “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” he scolded. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  “For a moment there, I thought you’d lost me, too. Have you ever tried swimming in a gown? It’s a bugger.”

  Drake chuckled, jubilant her spirit hadn’t been broken. He kissed her with all the passion, all the newfound love he had for his songbird. And when the kiss ended all too soon, he planted another to her forehead.

  “Ha-harr, you two,” Valeryn called out from the nearby shore. “Can we clear the deck for pleasant action elsewhere? These wet clothes are beginning to chafe.” He elbowed Quint. “Say, Captain Jo, ya need help getting out of yours?”

  “Your woes are mine and mine are thine, Valeryn, my darling.”

  “Holy poker. Sam, git me outta here,” Henri said. “I can’t stands all this doting. Come on, I got a fine bottle of Madeira wine hidden in the Rissa’s galley. Don’ tell Drake. I got it from his supply.”

  Gilly’s melodious laughter captured Drake’s full attention. She looked as she did after he pulled her from the sea that first night they’d met. Soaked to the bone and clutching her dreadful purse. But, oh, how she resembled anything but a timid mouse now.

  The darkened veil that had shrouded Drake since the day his family was murdered lifted. ’Twas as if stormy oceans had calmed and for the first time he could see a peaceful horizon ahead. He could not live without this woman. She was his fair wind and following seas.

  “I need you, Gillian,” he said.

  Even in the bewitching hour of night, her gray eyes sparkled. “Have me you shall. This night and forever.”

  Epilogue

  Sea breezes swept up the hillside and stirred the grasses, dusting up fragrances of sunshine and sweet floral. In the shade from the flamboyant tree, the winds cooled Gilly’s warm skin. She marveled at the spectacular view beyond. A ribbon of white sand gave way to the cerulean sea which stretched on until it disappeared into the haze of the horizon. Sailing ships skimming through the mouth of Havana’s bay with their white unfurled sails added a touch of charm.

  She was at peace, the happiest she had been in a very long time. The past two weeks with Thayer, though they hardly left his cabin, had been both agonizing and glorious. Thayer had slept the first three days, suffering fever from his wounds. She sat bedside keeping vigil, dabbing a cool wet rag to his forehead, and praying he would pull through. She nearly lost her mind waiting, listening to the rhythm of his faint heart beat as she lay on his chest. Valeryn had been her savior. He acquired a small bottle of much-needed laudanum. But when she had finished the elixir, Thayer threatened to cut Valeryn’s bullocks off should he get more. She had laughed at first, but Thayer had been serious. He declared an end to poisoning her body, that together they both would stop feeding their demons. She hadn’t wanted to stop. Yet when Thayer had taken her by the shoulders and firmly explained he would have it no other way, she agreed. Anything for him.

  Hadn’t been long before she had begun to nip and gnaw with a raw temperament. He held her whilst she shivered from cold sweats. He stroked her hair and whispered promises of a better life. And when she had bled out the miasma, he had made love to her again and again.

  Red blossoms from the tree rained down from a rustling wind. How soft they felt against her cheek, like the colorful butterflies back home in Charleston. Home. That didn’t quite sound right. Not anymore. Surely she would miss the splendor that was Charleston, the bustling city, the fairs, the azaleas in full bloom. Alas, there was nothing there to call home.

  Her gaze slid to her afternoon companions. Henri, with his wayward hair combed and fresh pink bows in his beard, popped Willie’s hand from the basket of food and upbraided Sam for not spreading the blanket for their picnic out evenly enough. Along with Valeryn and Joelle, they were a motley bunch. Gilly had grown fond of them all. They were like family to her. Mayhap she would write a letter to Ms. Brooks back in Charleston, to let her old teacher and friend know she fared well.

  Nickering horses drew her attention away from the tomfoolery. Th
ayer, Valeryn and Joelle rode over the crest of the hill. Sitting tall in their saddles, the striking trio was marked with lion-hearted confidence. Only the foolish would dare challenge their courage.

  Thayer was as at ease on horseback as he was at the helm of his ship. She couldn’t tear her eyes away as he swung his lean leg over the stallion’s rump and dismounted. His long dark hair neatly bound, fine black waistcoat and his shined boots made for a dashing man indeed. Mercy, she longed to spend another week cooped up with him snagged within the bed sheet. He smiled upon her and winked. With each passing hour, she had fallen deeper in love with him.

  “Did ya bring a good word?” Henri asked.

  “Brought you something,” Drake replied, tossing him a flagon.

  “’Tis a fine start.”

  “Can we eat now, Henri?” Willie said. “I’m ’bout ta chew off me own arm.”

  “We wouldn’t want that.” Drake chuckled and settled down beside Gilly. “Let’s to supper, mates.”

  Valeryn and Joelle settled down and Henri laid out fruits, cheeses and breads for everyone to enjoy. ’Twas comical to watch them reach over one another, grabbing for the same loaf, wedge and berry.

  Gilly handed Thayer a jug. “I had Henri fill it with your tea.” Giving up his rum had not been easy for him. She did all she could to remove temptations by keeping his tea on hand.

  “I am the luckiest bastard in the world. I don’t deserve you, but I’ll keep you all the same.”

  Her heart flip-flopped with his crooked smile.

  “Well, Capt’n, doncha keep us blind. Did the gov’nor speak with ya?”

  “Aye, he did. Though, not at first. ’Twas only after I surprised him in his private rooms. Guess you could say he had no choice but to listen with my pistol pointed between his deadlights.”

  “Ya ain’t never been a quiet one,” Henri said.

  “Nay, Capt’n’s itchy finger speaks loud and clear,” Willie added, toasting to Thayer.

  “I explained the necessity of Machete’s death to his royal position. Allowing for his commander to undermine his authority, terrorize villagers and collect blood money was an embarrassment. And should the Crown learn of the taxes not received, well, it wouldn’t bode well for the governor. For the brethren’s silence, he agreed to exonerate us and extract those loyal to Machete.”

  Joelle added, “He knows there are many who heed our word even among the Throne’s advisors.”

  “And in a show of good faith—” Valeryn grinned, “—Drake sold him Machete’s fine French furnishings we salvaged.”

  “Padded my strongbox, he did.”

  The group burst into laughter, raising their cups in splendid cheer. Gilly smiled at their fellowship. Theirs was a friendship like no other, and she greatly admired that about them. From the stories Willie had told, their goodwill toward one another was a natural part of their pirate code.

  “Every lad on the Rissa will get a share.”

  “That’s very generous of you, Thayer,” Gilly said.

  “’Tis the way of the pirate, love. Share and share ’tis a glorious trade for a cunning fellow.”

  Valeryn raised his cup in a toast. “To the code!”

  The group heartily hailed in return. “To the code!”

  “My Gilly, she’s acting more like a pirate every day,” Thayer said. “Firing shipboard guns, pummeling Spanish soldiers and now sharing her wealth.”

  Confused looks bounced among the bunch.

  Valeryn raised an eyebrow. “Wealth, you say?”

  “Aye. She asked me to have the diamonds cut into equal parts.” Thayer unfastened a pouch from his belt and, one by one, tossed them each a gem.

  “All of you have become dear to me,” Gilly confessed. “It’s as if I’d not known what a friend was until you touched my life. In your unique ways, each of you has helped me see who I was and who I could be. Willie, with your tales and patience, you taught me to appreciate the hard work of the sailor. Sam, you’ve reminded me there is no need for words when actions speak clear. Valeryn—” her grin reached her eyes, “—carefree Valeryn. I’ve never met a man as loyal and clever a friend as you. And you always seem to know what to say and do. Joelle, I am utterly amazed by your brazen courage and I hope to one day have a smidgen of your strength.” She reached over and patted Henri’s stumpy hand. “Henri, you’ve shown me temerity can come in all sizes. I’ve just got to reach inside myself to find it.”

  “By thunder.” Henri swallowed hard, flustered by emotion.

  “My gift to you all. It simply felt right.”

  “Thank you, Miss McCoy,” Willie said, handing Henri a handkerchief.

  Sam respectfully bowed his head.

  “Welcome to the brethren,” Joelle said. “It will be nice to have another woman about. Now, we just need to teach you how to properly hold a pistol.”

  “Looks as if Miss McCoy will make a fine wife for Drake.”

  Drake shot his best mate a shut yer trap stare.

  * * *

  “Wife?” Gilly’s eyes widened. With the dapple of sunlight in the cool shade of the flowering tree, her irises were the shade of blue-gray, much like that of the shifting hues inside an oyster shell. He’d never seen a lovelier color. She implored him for an answer he was not quite ready to give.

  Instead, he turned to his crew. “How do you lads feel about women on ships?”

  “They be bad luck, ya know that, Drake. Troublesome. Knock the wind from ya sails and hinder yer good senses,” Henri said. He shook his stubby finger at Gilly. “Doncha deny it, lassie.”

  “But, not so bad ’aving ’round,” Willie added.

  Drake didn’t expect an answer from Sam, and none was forthcoming.

  “Good, then, because Quint, here, is the Rissa’s new captain, if you’ll have her,” Drake stated. “Close your mouth, Henri. I’ve decided to drop anchor in Havana and Quint needs a ship.”

  “Why aren’t ya captain, Valeryn?” Willie asked. “Did ya lose to Quint arm wrestlin’?”

  “You boys don’t want me to captain you. I’m too foolhardy. I’d have every pirate hunter in the seven seas stirred up like angry hornets just for fun. Hanging at the morning drop is where we’d be.”

  “Valeryn has agreed to be my first mate and quartermaster,” Quint said. “I could use a fine helmsman, strong arm and the best galley cook in the Caribbean on my crew.”

  “Havin’ a woman on board is bad luck, I tell ya,” Henri groused.

  “Then what an adventure you’ll have,” the red-headed captain quipped.

  Drake stole a glance at Gilly. Her genuine smile as she watched the crew roust about blossomed in his heart. She was one of them now. No matter whether they dug their toes into the soils of Havana or sailed the trade winds of the open ocean. He craved to get her alone. ’Twould need to be soon or he’d bust.

  “What say you fellas?” Quint smirked a mischievous grin that only a woman could manage, feminine and, yet, cunning. “We’ll be well stocked with rum.”

  The little old man perked up like an impish child bribed to behave by a tasty treat. “Why didn’t ya say so? We’re in, aren’t we, lads?”

  Truth be told, Henri, Willie and Sam would never leave the Rissa, or one another. ’Twas all they had. Should anything ever happen to the Rissa, their fate would be sealed.

  “Very good,” Quint said. “We leave in three days. I hear there’s a bounty on a mutinied merchant scavenging in the Leeward Isles. And you boys know I love to catch a mutinied ship.”

  “A hunt,” Thayer said. “Almost sorry to miss the chase.”

  “What course ya steerin’, Capt’n?” Willie asked.

  “Content yourself. Here in Havana, you shall have the finest drink and the best entertainment in all of Cuba. As of this morn, I am the pro
ud proprietor of El Trovador.”

  “You bought the tavern?” Drake loved to see the sparkle of wonderment uplift Gilly’s adorable, youthful face. He had a couple more surprises he couldn’t wait to share with her.

  “And if she’ll agree, Gillian McCoy will perform as my premier songstress.”

  “You did that for me? You’re giving up carousing the seas for me, too?”

  Drake captured a tear from her freckled cheek. “I’m not giving up a life of pirating, love. With your beautiful voice, people will be scrambling from all across the seas to come hear you enchant them. It will be like pillaging pockets.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, much to the guffawing and enjoyment of their friends.

  Excitement bubbled from Gilly as she turned to the bunch. “You all will come see me sing before you leave, won’t you? Oh, I’d be so grateful to have you there. It would mean everything to me. Please? Oh my, Thayer. What will I wear? What an honor to sing for you. I should practice my scales.”

  “Gilly. Gilly.” Drake clasped her hands in effort to calm her. By George, she was like an excited sparrow hopping across a meadow. And just as delightful. “Yes. They’ll come see you sing. And yes, you will have the prettiest dress I can find. You can have anything you want. Henri. Play a tune. Let us celebrate.”

  Henri pulled his favorite broken flute from his vest pocket and piped out a lively melody. Knee thumping and toe tapping commenced, and the group warbled out an old sea chantey. Drake slid a look to Valeryn. His mate nodded a silent approval.

  “Come,” he whispered in Gilly’s ear. “I want to show you something.”

  Drake led her from view of the others to the opposite side of a knoll. The few trees jutting from the rocky hill leaned southward from the perpetual sea winds. Yellow flowers peeked up between where craggy stones met lush grass. The simple beauty of the bluff couldn’t compare to the woman beside him.