by Koko Brown
Some mundane items were addressed, commissions granted, rules clarified others ratified. Lèsè forced herself to remain calm through the entirety of it even as a crushing anxiety burdened her mind.
Maybe she was working herself up for naught. Maybe there was nothing unusual about the change in venue.
“Is the captain of the Indomitable in attendance?”
Bombarded by a new wave of dizziness, Lèsè stepped forward. “I am she,” she said her voice booming throughout the hall. Outwardly, she conveyed a steely confidence while inside a sensation of contradictory emotions warred for dominance.
Madame Shih raised a delicate hand and wiggled her fingers at her. “Come here.”
Despite her knees turning to boiled noodles, Lèsè managed to approach the dais.
“How was your last voyage?”
“Very fruitful, Madame Ching Shih,” Lèsè said with as much composure as she could muster. She could no longer lie to herself. This was an interrogation not a simple report to one’s employer. Still, she decided to play along. “I intercepted a British merchant ship in your name. The vessel, all its cargo and the crew I present to you as tribute.”
Anxiety fueling her tongue, Lèsè continued, “Before this take we had nothing. We were hopeless thinking things had dried up. Maybe bad weather had spoiled the season. I thought many times to return to port but I thought of my crew and the mouths they had to feed. And…and I thought of you, Madame. I know you expect all of us to pull our share.”
Normally, she wouldn’t court favor or even sympathy but no rationale explained this unwavering sense of peril.
“Impressive.” Madame Shih drummed her fingers against the chair’s arm rest. “Almost petty in light of what I’m about to do but it must be done. Equal pay, equal treatment.”
The blood drained from Lèsè’s extremities.
“I’ve been told you’ve broken one of our hallowed codes.”
Lèsè almost rolled her eyes. Unlike other gangs who came to a consensus regarding rules of conduct, the Red Fleet’s had originated from its leader and enforced by the sheer amount of muscle she kept around her and bone jarring fear.
“I’m not aware of any violations. Your treasurer will see me from captain’s log that I’ve left nothing out. I’ve listed every piece of grain, picul of flesh, and kati of wool. And I haven’t shorted you the opium we found hidden in the ship’s hull.”
Madame Shih smiled coolly, practically giving off a frost.
“About that cargo…there was something you claimed before it could be presented. This something, I’m told is a man.”
The crows have come home to roost. Briefly, Lèsè closed her eyes, searching for words that would be honest. If she contested the accusation, and proved a liar, she’d loser her tongue. And yet, total honesty wouldn’t get her out of hot water either.
“Present your booty.”
Lèsè raised her hand and snapped her fingers. With the gentle prodding of weapons at their backs, the Dorcas crew scuttled forward.
“That’s far enough.” Madame Shih held up her palm to stop the shabby rabble. “I can smell you from here,” she sneered. Shrewd, she eyeballed each of them in turn and subsequently dismissed them, except for one.
She pointed at Christian and in perfect English said, “Step forward, please.”
Flynn, resplendent in his cleaned uniform and exuding a confidence she sorely lacked, swaggered over and stood by her side. A lump settled in the back of Lèsè’s throat. If she wouldn’t doom them, he surely would.
Christian wasn’t expecting to be singled out. Rightfully taken by surprise, he hesitated. His gaze drifted to Lèsè’s stiff-shouldered stance and an overwhelming need to protect washed over him. Not giving it another thought, he separated himself from the group. He didn’t stop until he stood beside Lèsè’s side.
Wearing his ego on his sleeve, Commander Talbot scuttled forward as well. “I am the rightful captain of the Dorcas,” he blustered. “You should talk to me.” Met with silence, he bowed low, “Madam.”
“You can go back with the others.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Ransoms are a tiresome business but highly necessary. My man, Aiguo, will talk with you later.”
When Talbot didn’t immediately move, Madame Shih rose up. “You dare defy me?!” she bellowed.
A bear of a man melted from the dais, he charged Talbot and yanked him up so fast he didn’t know what hit him. Arm tightening around the commander’s throat, the strong arm deferred to Madame Shih for further instructions.
“Will you be a good dog and join the rest of your crew?”
His countenance beet red and frothing at the mouth, Talbot could only move his head up an inch. A bubble of laughter rippled around the room. Also, unconcerned with his struggles Madame Shih cupped a hand behind her ear.
“Excuse me,” she taunted. “I didn’t quite get that.”
The matter settled, Madame Shih turning her full attention on him. “Now…what is your name, pretty one?” She asked, batting her lashes.
“Christian Flynn.”
“Very handsome.” The fact she complimented his looks twice, wasn’t lost on him, and goosebumps ran down Christian’s arms.
“So enlighten me, Mr. Flynn, who are you?”
“I’m a merchant seaman. I hail from Britain, South Essex to be exact.”
“And how was your stay aboard the Indomitable. How were you treated by my people?”
“I was treated well…better than most in that situation.”
“I can see that. Why do you look so well cared for compared to the others?”
Christian’s heart throbbed in his chest. For some intrinsic reason, he knew where her line of questioning was leading.
“It was pressed upon me to take a bath on a daily basis. I do—”
“They all were given access to water,” Lèsè interjected. “And two meals a day.”
Madame Shih looked to Commander Talbot. Still in a choke hold, he’d turned a rancid shade of purple. “Oh, let him go you. We don’t want to kill him.”
Once released, Commander Talbot, wheezing for air, sunk to his knees.
“Clearly, it wasn’t pressed upon them. They smell like farm animals.”
Madame Shih pressed on, “Mr. Flynn why was your bathing a requirement?”
From her expression, Christian knew she was simply toying with him and these questions were nothing but a show.
“Mistress Lèsè requested that I do so.”
“Because…” she coaxed.
“I was her companion.”
An explosion of heated discussion erupted behind him.
“Silence!” Madam Shih’s strident voice echoed off the walls, buoying her absolute command. “And what did you do in this role?” she asked once order was restored.
“I broke bread with her. We talked. Sometimes I helped her with her bath. Combed her hair.”
“Did you share her bed?”
His gaze went to Lèsè. Despite her absolute stillness, he could see that she trembled.
Voice thunderous, Madame Shih, bellowed, “Do not look at her, answer me!”
“Yes. I shared her bed,” Christian growled back. He didn’t give a fuck if she commanded forty thousand men. He would stuff his fist down her throat before any of them landed a blow.
Silently, Madame Shih’s gaze bounced back and forth between him and Lèsè. The buildup made him want to pull his hair out.
“Were you given a choice?”
Christian nodded. “You raise your pirates with manners.”
More laughter. Madame Shih held up her fist and like before the assembly fell silent.
“There is only one solution to this violation of our codes,” she said cheerily. “You are to be married.”
“No we will not!” Lèsè objected, her voice choking with emotion.
Madame Shih looked to Christian as did Lèsè. “Are you willing, Mr. Flynn?”
His eyes holding hers like the blue eyes of a
tiger, desire so palpable in their smoldering depths a shiver flew down her spine.
“Aye. I am very willing to take her as my wife.”
“I do not love him.”
“You lust for him and him for you.” She rolled her finger in the air. “Everyone in this hall can feel it.”
“I am not a wife, Madame. I am a pirate who was once a whore.”
Madame Shih’s eyebrows rose in response. “What say you, Mr. Flynn? Can you make a wife out of a whore?”
“Virgin or whore, everyone wants love.”
Lèsè snorted. Love. How she hated the word. People used the word to explain away the erasure of their common sense. She’d lost track of all the times she’d helped a friend pick up their teeth after a love tap. And she’d heard so many stories of spouses or lovers deserting their crew when they returned to port, she had the “Cheer Up” gifts already pre-ordered.
“Are you saying you’re in love, Mr. Flynn?”
“This past two weeks have not been the worst of my life.”
Shut up, shut up! Lèsè resisted the urge to slap her hands over her ears but he continued to torture her, “Being in Lèsè’s company has been quite enjoyable. And in this small amount of time, I’ve engendered feelings for Lèsè. Feelings, I believe, will grow into love.”
It will grow into nothing but hate. In truth she was secretly afraid to love anyone. Afraid to open her heart only for them to discover who she really is and hate her for they see. She didn’t deserve him or his love. After all she was a woman with only one name—a name which meant trash. It was the place--a pile of rubbish behind the brothel--where the whores found her.
“Tsk…tsk…tsk. What am I to do? The captive is willing but not the captor.”
Anger stirred in Lèsè giving her strength to fight back. “There is no violation of code, Madame Shih,” she insisted. “He’s a man.”
More muttering from the assembly and then a harsh male voice rang through the hall.
“If she is not willing, there is only one thing to right this wrong.”
Lèsè’s hands ball into fists as she recognized the speaker as Yaalon Wan.
“This woman tries to upturn everything we hold dear. Tear the Red Fleet asunder by takin our codes lightly. If she were a man, and he a woman, he and his consort would be put to death. The same punishment is fitting in this case! Equal pay, equal punishment.”
Incredulous, Flynn grasped her arm. “This is insane,” he said trying in vain to talk some sense into her. “I want you as my wife. Let me take of you, protect you, love you.”
For a moment Lèsè teetered on the verge of caving in. But what kind of life could she give him. In truth it would be a slow death for both of them. She took a big shuddering breath.
“I will not divorce myself from the sea. Can you accept that?”
His mouth tightened. “I want a wife, not a pirate.”
Madame Shih rubbed her hand over her brow. “This development grieves me. I need time to think this over. You two will be escorted back to the Dorcas.”
A murmur of dissension spread through the hall, much of it unanimous: equal pay, equal punishment.
Chin held high, Lèsè walked to the hall’s double door. One anonymous voice said admiringly, “She has more balls than any pirate I know.”
Someone else hissed, “She’s a fool. I wouldn’t lose my head over a vow that can be broken.”
Two familiar faces materialized from a sea of strangers. Lèsè froze. Liu and Min-Ru stood near the doors. Still a coward, Liu dropped his gaze. Not so easily cowed, her former second-in-command smiled coolly. She acknowledged them both with a nod then walked into the cool fall evening.
SEVENTEEN
They were escorted back to the Dorcas and placed them into separate cabins. Riddled with guilt and self-recrimination, Lèsè didn’t get much sleep. Her sleepless night turned into a long day waiting for Madame Shih’s sentence.
Sunrise then sunset, still no decision.
Shortly after dawn on the second day, the sound of pounding feet on the main deck was preceded by the opening of a cabin door. A short time later, it opened again. More footsteps and hers swung open.
“I just talked with Mr. Flynn…and he’s backed up the most interesting claim. You commissioned him to teach you several maritime shipping routes.” Blood running cold, Lèsè’s gaze followed Madame Shih to the captain’s table. “I did not find any maps in the cargo you presented. None are here and why is that?”
“I didn’t think you would be interested in them.”
“And why is that?” Madame Shih asked, her tone deceptively sweet. Dressed in a cream floor-length gown, reminiscent of the Han Dynasty, she looked like an empress.
“We are forbidden from venturing beyond the South China Sea.”
Madame Shih’s eyes narrowed with fury. “How many did you learn?”
“All of them,” Lèsè whispered.
“Besides Mr. Flynn, does your crew know of your education? Were they planning to desert the Red Fleet as well?”
“No one knew of my plan but me. Not even Mr. Flynn.”
Madame Shih sighed loudly. “This is treason. By both the person who commits it and their enabler. Before the sun sets, you and Mr. Flynn will be put to death.”
Today was a beautiful day to die. The sun was set at its highest point. Patches of clouds played tag in a glorious blue sky tinted with pink. No seagulls flew overhead, but the ocean was calm as glass.
They’d left Guangzhou for the open sea two days ago, saving some poor soul the unpleasantness of coming across her head and rotting corpse. Lèsè smiled. Funny how that gave her some comfort.
Lèsè turned her head toward the ladder. She’d half expected her execution to be a lonely affair. It wasn’t to be. Christian, with the help of a two-man escort, stepped onto the quarterdeck. Lèsè suddenly felt sick inside. He on the other hand looked decidedly at peace. He even gifted her with what could pass as a smile. And it didn’t falter when they wound an anchor’s rope around his ankles.
“Any earthly affects you would like to leave behind?” One of her executioner’s asked.
“I want my boat to go to Chunhua,” Lèsè whispered. “And the girl, MeiLai…tell her to find Madame Baí, proprietress of the Green Garden in Yangzhou.”
The old prostitute helped raised her from an infant and now acted as her treasurer and qianzhuang for all of her ill-gotten gains. She would know what to do if the girl showed up without her.
“Any last words?”
Blinking back tears, Lèsè struggled to smile. “I am sorry, Mr. Flynn,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “What I’ve done to you is unforgiveable.”
“No apologies needed. I had a choice. If there’s an afterlife, I promise you I will find you and make you choose me.”
Lèsè stared out at sea while they wound rope around her wrists. An unnecessary precaution since she’d already accepted her fate. Seeing the axe in the headsman’s hand, she sunk to her knees.
Her gaze latched onto the anchor rope. A breath-held hush preceded a sickening splash. The anchor rope unraveled quickly then pulled taut.
Lèsè shut her eyes....
TIME TO KILL
EIGHTEEN
WASHOE COUNTY, NEVADA 1883
Saddle bag in hand, Lonnie stalked the aisle. One by one each passenger dropped money, jewelry and other valuables into it. And everything had value like the four gold caps she pilfered from a rancher two cars back.
“Let’s go,” she alerted, Lincoln, her hold up man. A freedman of Cherokee and colored ancestry, he’d helped build the railway they were riding on back in ’69.
His twin guns still trained on their victims, Lincoln asked, “What ‘bout the last car?”
“Off limits.” Believing the matter settled, Lonnie edged over to the door, to provide him with cover just in case some coot decides to be a hero.
Lincoln’s face screwed up. “How so?”
Lonnie sucked in a calming
breath. The former gandy dancer had a head thicker than wood.
“That car is off limits because it’s the colored car,” she slowly enunciated every word.
Lincoln’s bushy eyebrows shot up, hiding themselves beneath his horse hair derby.
“What makes them so special?”
“They didn’t steal our land,” she said as much to him as the marks they’d just robbed. “They didn’t rip us from our families. They didn’t change your name. They didn’t beat you so you’d forget your culture, your language. Is that enough to stop your bellyaching? I have a horse to catch.”
“Yeah,” he drawled then turned his head, chucking spittle on the floor. “Let’s vamoose.”
Methodical about her licks, Lonnie timed them all to the last second. In ten minutes, the train would be passing over the Truckee River where she had a horse trussed up, waiting for her. Lincoln’s ride was exactly five miles north. He’d circle back and they’d meet up at a deserted shack in the shadows of the Carson Range.
“Skedaddle! I’ll cover you.” She unholstered her twin six shooters, and pointed at everyone but no one in particular. The first person who moved would be pushing up daisies.
Making a break for it, Lincoln cut out. Like the other two dozen times, once on the shifting plate, he held the door open for her.
“Shut it,” she ordered, stepping onto the swaying platform, eyes narrowing from the cinders kicked back from the train’s locomotive.
“I’ll see you at the bunkhouse in a—”
Bang
A hole burning in her side, Lonnie stumbled backward, hitting the wall. The only thing that saved her from pitching over the side was the guide chain. Tentatively, her fingers touched the singed hole in her bolero jacket, before slipping inside.
“You goddam son of a bitch,” she whispered, amazed at the amount of blood staining her fingers.
Lincoln grinned, revealing yellow teeth. “Nothin’ personal, Miss Lonnie. Jus’ business.”
He stepped forward to relieve her of the take. Injured but not dead, Lonnie lifted her left hand.
“You really ought to shoot someone who isn’t armed, Lincoln.”
