Open Waters

by Valerie Mores

  But she wasn't finished yet.

  "Bring her up into it!" She ordered, making a sweeping gesture with her arm.

  Dover, who was at the wheel, obeyed, turning it just so the sails caught the wind more effectively, but Jane quickly took over once she saw his hesitation to go any further. She held onto the wheel with effort, more groans and creaks sounding from the mast and even the deck, but slowly, the ship performed to her bidding.

  "Here," she commanded Dover, sliding to the side and allowing him to take a hold of the wheel. "Hold her there!"

  Dover nodded, holding the wheel steady as Jane returned to Cecily's side. She glanced over for a second, long enough for Cecily to raise her eyebrows in a poor attempt at playing unimpressed and Jane to flash her another arrogant smile, before taking another look through her spyglass. The ship was only slightly closer than before, but still not enough for her to make out any markings of allegiance. But she could see her turn, so her bow was once again aimed straight at the Tantibus's stern. There was no doubt anymore that the ship intended to run them down. And with the distances it had traveled in the short time between glimpses through the spyglass, Jane was sure it would happen sooner rather than later.

  As if reading her mind, Cecily sidled closer to her and asked in a low voice, "How long 'til she's at us?"

  Jane took a second to calculate. "A day, maybe less. But no more than that," she replied with a sigh.

  "Wha' do ya plan ta do?"

  Jane shrugged. "I'm not sure yet. Depends who's at her helm."

  "And if it's the Navy?"

  "Then we better hope the new recruits can play their parts and keep their gobs shut. It's going to take some damn good acting if it's the Navy that decides to board."

  Silence fell between them, the only sound being the slap of the sea and the orders being relayed amongst the crew on the main deck.

  "You don't seem worried," Jane remarked after a moment, noticing the relaxed look on Cecily's face: the same look she had worn when Jane had first met her, knife to her throat, life on the line, but still relaxed and bored.

  "Oh, I'm not," Cecily assured her, without taking her eyes off the horizon and the ship sailing upon it. "As long as ya in control, my lioness, I have nothin' ta fear."

  Jane just nodded. "As it should be."

  "Well," Cecily began, and Jane felt a smile creep upon her face, knowing the usual insult was coming and looking forward to it. "Except bein' squashed by ya enormous ego. It's takin' up all the space aboard this ship. I'm afraid, for the good of the crew and myself, it'll have ta go."

  *~*~*

  Jane gazed through the spyglass for a long while, trying to keep it steady and hoping her eyes were playing tricks on her.

  But after another minute, she was forced to concede that they weren't.

  "She's a member of the Royal Navy," she said without emotion, handing the spyglass over to Worth. The Navy flag had been as clear as day at the top of the main mast, waving at her tauntingly.

  Worth made to grab the spy glass from Jane, but it was snatched out of her hand before he could grab it. Cecily, spyglass in hand, strode forward a pace in order to be out of reach and have time to look upon the ship. Worth caught Jane's eye and Jane just shook her head, trying to keep the fond smile that threatened to break forth off her face. This was not the time to show any display of affection.

  "We can fight her off," a voice sounded from behind Jane. She knew who it was without even turning around, having heard his argumentative tone often enough in the past two weeks, let alone the last seven years he had been aboard, to recognize it anywhere. "Done it before," Cooksley finished.

  Jane just shook her head. "Not weighed down as we are. Won't stand a chance."

  "With all that powder and shot, they won't be able to keep up," Cooksley countered, his voice rising in anticipation and confidence.

  "Yes, but that there is war ship," Jane growled, her anger getting the best of her. She took a deep breath to calm herself and continued. "Fourth-rate, sixty cannons easily, and if they are prepared, eighty men aboard, all ready to fight until their last breath. She'll sink us before we even get to use any of the extra powder. No, its best we play off at being a simple merchant ship."

  "You don't want to admit you're scared of the Navy. Well, I'm not, and let me tell you—"

  "You will hold your tongue!" Jane shouted, whirling around to face Cooksley. She was at her wits’ end with him, and could tell by the way his jaw clenched in anger, that he could see the threat in her eyes and would, for the time being, leave it be. She wondered how long that would truly last. He'd probably be at her in another hour, at the very least.

  "If they are so inclined to board, then we shall let them," Jane ordered, not breaking the staring contest with Cooksley that she suddenly found herself in. "We are not to engage unless absolutely necessary, and I shall be the judge of that. Do I make myself clear?"

  Cooksley looked like he would like nothing more than to argue or run her through. Perhaps both.

  "Yes, Captain," he sneered. It didn't matter. She still had the upper hand and, until she could find a clean and reasonable excuse to toss him out, it would remain that way. The crew was loyal to her, first and foremost. He couldn't even compete.

  "Good," she nodded, turning her back on the man in a clear dismissal.

  As Cooksley's footsteps faded, Cecily once again sidled up beside her, having finally relented and handed the spyglass over to Worth. "Now what?" she asked, giving Jane a sidelong glance.

  Jane leaned on the railing, staring over the crashing waves toward the fast approaching Navy ship, determination and anticipation filling her up with confidence. "Now, we wait."

  *~*~*

  Her estimation was off by a handful of hours. The Navy ship, it seemed, was faster than she had anticipated, or the Tantibus was more weighted than she had originally thought. No matter, their extra speed had done nothing to lengthen their time, but she was comforted to know that the slight veer off-course would at least allow them to fabricate a new destination to one of the ports off the distant coast, should they be questioned. And she had no doubt they would be.

  But she was ready. All except for one thing.

  "Go, wait in my quarters until this whole business has been sorted," Jane commanded to Cecily, lying a comforting, but firm, hand upon her slim shoulder.

  "I will not hide away like some scullery maid," Cecily refused, stepping out of the touch and turning to face Jane fully with defiance in her eyes. "I can handle myself."

  "Of that, I have no doubt." Jane closed the distance between them again and placed both her hands on Cecily's shoulders, smiling at her reassuringly. "But it would arouse suspicion if not one, but two women were to be seen in opposing states of dress upon a simple merchant ship. You in that… garment," she stated, her eyes roving over Cecily, not sure whether her dress could indeed be construed as one. There was far too much skin showing for it to be compared to a lady's everyday garb. Definitely would arouse suspicion… and interest, which Jane wished to avoid that at all costs, especially the latter.

  Cecily searched Jane's eyes, piercing browns diving deep into her own blues, gazing into her soul. After a few beats, she seemed to find what she was looking for. "Fine," Cecily relented, though her eyes still betrayed her indignation. Jane knew Cecily wouldn't be happy with her decision from the second she came to it, but truly it was for the best. If not the crew's own safety, then at least for Cecily's own.

  And when Jane had started thinking more of everyone else's safety—especially Cecily's—and less of her own, she didn't know. She used to not give a rat's ass about anyone but herself, despite her outward appearance of otherwise. Now, it was like she couldn't give a damn if she lived or died, as long as Cecily's life was spared.

  Jane shoved those thoughts to the back of her head, forcing herself to focus on the here and now. She had commanded her crew to stow away all incriminating evidence, including several pieces of garb certain members wore a
nd—as they were seen as more of a liability than not—the new recruits from the Liberty. She didn't want to take the chance that those men would say anything condemnatory, damning them all to a fight they were bound to lose. No, they all needed to play their parts and pass themselves off as nothing more than simple merchant sailors, and that very well couldn't be done with those men free to walk about and talk to whomever they pleased.

  "Nearly there," Jane muttered to herself, watching as the Navy warship maneuvered alongside the Tantibus. She had conversed shortly with a crewmember aboard the Navy ship as they had approached, and agreed to allow them aboard—he had said it was on orders of the king that they check every merchant ship, so she really didn't have a choice in the matter. It was an impressive ship, she would say that, even though it was not by far the most impressive she had seen.

  The sound of the Navy ship's planks being thrown against the rail and various nets and hooks securing the two ships together announced the boarding. Jane straightened. She stepped out into the middle of the main deck, Worth at her side and the rest of her crew scattered about her, awaiting the appearance of the Navy's own.

  But she felt calm, relaxed even, and confident that her and her crew's true intentions and reasons for being about were well hidden.

  Booted footsteps were heard seconds before a man with greasy brown hair, partially hidden under a black tricorne, and an equally-unwashed, scruffy jaw jumped down onto the main deck. A very familiar and extremely deceitful man.

  Immediately Jane's calm and relaxed feeling disappeared and she tensed, inwardly cursing her own stupidity for not seeing it sooner. She had thought it odd that a Navy ship would have orders to board any and every ship, even if there was rumored to be a war coming. It was usually a few words exchanged in passing, and then the Navy would let the ship be on their way, unless something seemed off. And yes, the disappearance of the Liberty could have been discovered by now, but the nearest Navy port or ship was hundreds of miles away. There should not be one in this area, and that was why she had chosen this route. Of course, this was no war ship of the Royal Navy.

  But before she could do anything more, forty men jumped over the railing behind their captain and pistols were leveled at her and her crew.

  Her men, though, seemed to understand the change in situation and, despite her orders to not engage without her signal, began firing.

  It was a bloody mess, and while they were equally numbered, the other men seemed more prepared for a fight, with the element of surprise on their side. Jane managed to down two of them before she found herself eye-to-eye with the muzzle of a pistol.

  "Drop your weapons or the wench eats my shot," the scruffy man shouted to her remaining crew. Scuffles ceased, quickly followed by the damning sound of pistols and swords clattering on the deck as they were dropped. The man nodded to his men over her shoulder before once again focusing on her.

  For a split second, Jane feared the man knew exactly who she was. But she soon threw that thought out the window. Of course he didn't. Very few outside her crew did. He probably just saw her as the woman she was, and she decided to play toward a man's instinct to protect. He probably didn't know just how lucky he had got with his choice in leverage.

  "Captain Lock," Jane drawled, attempting to hide her growing apprehension—for a whole different, clearly-evident reason—behind a mask of despise and disinterest.

  "Sorry, do I know you?" the scruffy man—Lock—asked, his tone mocking as his eyes roved over Jane's form hungrily.

  "Not in the slightest, but I sure know you." And she was glad she did, but not so glad that he was the one that had boarded her ship. He had a rather nasty reputation.

  She had come across him once at Port Demply a year ago while they were docked and gathering up supplies for their next raid. Well, she hadn't personally met him, but Worth had pointed him out to her. She had sent Worth to go meet with some of the other pirate captains, who had been discussing the newly-spreading rumors about the Navy amassing an armada to take out the pirates. And from what Worth had said, Jane had immediately disliked this man she had never met, and continued to do so, even now that she had.

  "Glad to hear my reputation precedes me," Lock smirked, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement as his crew laughed behind him.

  "Not particularly, Captain," Jane spat sarcastically.

  Lock cocked an eyebrow at her. She could tell he was trying to remember, trying to spark a memory that would tell him how she knew him and he did not. She watched as he scowled, evidently coming up with nothing before his eyes swept toward Worth standing at gunpoint a few paces beside her, in search for answers. And it was there that he seemed to find them, for his eyes alit with recognition and immediately focused on her again.

  "Well, well, it seems the rumors are true."

  Jane just tilted her head up in answer, letting the man think whatever he wanted. But she understood his conclusion. Worth had no doubt had to claim who he was, and under whom he served, when he had met Captain Lock. But despise the rumors that surrounded her and the questions he had been asked, Jane had ordered him to not divulge anything.

  "You know, I didn't believe it when I first heard," Lock stated, lowering his weapon as he laughed. Confidence oozed from him as he began to pace in front of Jane, the rest of his crew keeping their pistols at the ready, trained on her and her crew. Jane purposefully kept her eyes on him, not wanting to see the bodies that now littered the deck around her. "The infamous Captain Avery, a woman, captaining her own ship. Thought it… farfetched. Had to see it for myself."

  A few seconds passed before he was standing before her once again. He took a step closer, much to Jane's displeasure and swept the muzzle of his pistol through her hair, brushing a lock of it behind her shoulder.

  Jane batted the pistol aside, but it seemed Lock had anticipated the move. A rough, calloused hand clamped around her wrist and she was jerked forward, only to be stopped by the sweaty, rank body of Lock himself.

  "And it is a sweet sight to behold," he purred, gazing at her predatorily as he wrapped one arm around her torso and comfortably settled the other on her shoulder, so the muzzle of his pistol brushed against her temple. His crew laughed behind him, but whether it was at his proclamation or her obvious displeasure, Jane didn't care.

  She stood still, refusing to let Lock intimidate her, even as his hold on her wrist tightened painfully. Instead, she asked coldly, "What do you want?"

  "Many things, my sweet," he cooed, leaning down to sniff at her hair and neck. She pulled away sharply, as far as she could. He retreated, but didn't release his hold on her.

  "But for now, I'll start with the return of my goods that are currently stashed in your hold." The predatory glint in his eye was back.

  Jane just chuckled. "We have nothing of yours."

  "Oh, yes, you do. That ship you sank a few weeks ago? That was my merchant. Need to be prepared for this war I've been hearing so much about. And I do enjoy a good rouse, especially if it makes the Royal Navy look like fools." He gazed back toward his idled ship and the Navy flag still waving innocently at the top, before looking back down at Jane and flashing a grin. "But I'm sure you know that by now."

  "Yes, I certainly do. And how cowardly you are, hiding behind a flag."

  Jane watched as Lock grit his teeth. Obviously, he wasn't too fond of being called cowardly. But he reined back his cool and sneered at her. "Ah, but it works. Makes fools of you all, enemy and brethren alike."

  "There is only one fool here, and it is not I."

  "We shall see about that." Lock promised in a low whisper. Then he straightened, his voice louder so those surrounding them could overhear, "But I'm afraid I'll be needing recompense for the goods that are now rusting at the bottom of the ocean. Those twelve-pounders were hard to come by."

  "Then you might as well learn to swim, Captain," Jane said matter-of-factly. "The ocean floor is a long way down."

  Chuckles of laughter sounded from her captive crew, a few
noises of scuffles, and the sound of flesh hitting flesh as her crew got out of hand and fought back. But they were soon subdued once more, and Lock narrowed his eyes at her. A brief flash of anger marred his face before his confident façade once again took up residence.

  Before she could even blink, a stinging pain emanated from her cheek and her head was thrown to the side from the force of the blow. "Like I said," Jane said casually, straightening back up and staring back into Lock's eyes, "Cowardly. Slapping a fellow pirate instead of challenging them." She clicked her tongue a few times, shaking her head at his antics.

  "I don't need to challenge you. I have already won."

  "If that's what you believe."

  This time it was the butt of the gun that made contact with the side of her head. The blow was hard, causing her knees to buckle slightly, but not enough to render her unconscious. But damn it, it sure hurt like hell.

  She could hear shouts of insults and more scuffles behind her as her crew reacted to the abuse, but the ringing in her head made it all sound far away.

  "Fuck you," Jane spat out as she straightened up once more, briefly letting her own anger get the best of her. She bit it back immediately, knowing that displaying such an emotion could break the hold she had on Lock. She was angering him: that much was evident. And anger caused mistakes. She just hoped hers didn't cost her before his cost him.

  But his next words drove all those thoughts from her head in an instant.

  "No, my dear, it is I that shall be doing the fucking."

  Despite her calm exterior, Jane couldn't help the fear that spiked through her, her veins turning to ice. No, he couldn't possibly. That was the lowest of the low, the worst sort of degradation. But what else could he have meant? From the short time Jane had been in his presence, and from what she had heard about him, she knew exactly what he had in mind.

  "You see," Lock continued, oblivious to the panic now running through Jane's mind, "I don't quite believe these so-called rumors that surround you. On the outside, yes, they appear to be true, but I'm afraid I'm going to need a little bit more… evidence to satisfy my growing curiosity."