The Blood Reaver

by Barbara Devlin

  “I beg your pardon?” Crestfallen, she slumped her shoulders and clenched her stomach. “I am here to enjoy nature’s splendor and naught more.”

  “Pull my other leg.” He snorted. “Mr. Allen says we should be home in another sennight, and I will count us fortunate to make it alive, if only to get you away from Captain Reyson.”

  “Why do you dislike him?” She ignored the sinking feeling in her chest, because she did not know what would happen when they docked. “What did he do to you, other than provide aid where others abandoned us?”

  “I know not, but my instincts tell me he is not what he seems, and you would do well to beware of him.” Clinton glanced over his shoulder and then sidled near. In a low voice, he said, “I do not believe these men are traders, Rose. I fear they are privateers.”

  “Posh.” She waved off the mere intimation. “Yours is a ridiculous notion. Why would they help us, if they were what you claim?”

  “I am not sure, unless Captain Reyson spied something he liked.” Clinton trapped and held her stare. “Why else would he support you?”

  “Clinton, I will not listen to you disparage Captain Reyson, when he has been nothing less than a gentleman.” All right, so that was not entirely accurate, but her brother did not need to know that. “You are resolved to think the worst of him, when you have no cause.”

  “What do you mean?” He stretched tall. “Open your eyes, and look about you. This ship bears no resemblance to the trader we sailed to Alicante. Even the Sea Serpent, with its ghastly business, presented cleaner, more professional accommodations, whereas the Malevolent crew dresses, acts, and talks like pirates.”

  “And you know this because you are familiar with buccaneers?” She tapped her foot on the boards. “You are so experienced in such matters?” She humphed. “Of course, you are correct in your conjecture, because these men have treated us so cruelly. They took all our money for passage, they force us to live in squalor, they starve us to death, and they wish to throw us into the sea. Is that the whole of it?” Shaking her head, she snorted. “Oh, no. They accepted half-payment, when Donat cheated us. They gave us comfortable lodgings. They feed us decent meals, and they are kind to us. Did Mr. Murtaugh not teach you how to plot our course by dead reckoning? Did Mr. Allen not give you a tour of the hold? Did Mr. Eastman not teach you how to tie a bowline knot?”

  “Perhaps I am too quick to judge them, but I do not want you spending too much time in Captain Reyson’s company.” Clinton compressed his lips. “I miss our father and Ephraim. Now that they are gone, it falls to me to protect you and Mama.”

  “I miss them, too.” In play, she nudged her little brother. “You should go below and wash for the evening meal, as they will sound the bells just after the sun sets.”

  “Aw, let me watch the spectacle with you, Rose.” He draped an arm about her shoulders. “It is beautiful here, is it not?”

  “I am surprised to hear that from you, given you suffer the sickness.” She giggled as she relaxed. “I would have thought you detested sea travel.”

  “It is only bad the first few days.” He rested his head to hers. “And I suspect the fever made it worse, but I am lucky to be here, given Papa and Ephraim did not make it.”

  In silence, they witnessed the end of another day, as the sky displayed a dazzling collection of colors in vivid pinks, blues, and purples streaked with glimmers of gold. While she usually thrilled to the sight, that night she thought of nothing but her absent beau.

  “Well, shall we return to your cabin and take our meal?” Clinton pushed from the rail.

  “No.” Rose slipped free. “I am not hungry, and I want to stay here.”

  “Are you sure?” Clinton’s belly growled, and he laughed. “Although I could eat enough for two, now that my appetite has made an appearance.”

  “Go ahead.” She pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “I will come down, later.”

  “All right.” He shuffled his feet and then walked to the companion ladder.

  Quiet settled on the ship, save the waves lapping against the hull, and she stared in the direction of the passage that led to Turner’s cabin. For a while, she simply stood there, willing her man to come to her. When that tactic failed, she took a turn about the waist, marveled at the precise knots in the falls, and tried but failed to lift a cannon shot from a large stack.

  At last, when she could delay no more, she spun on a heel—and almost knocked over a sailor.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Eastman, as I did not see you there.” She dipped her chin, as he saluted her. “I wonder if I might trouble you to tell me where I may find Captain Reyson?”

  “He is in his cabin, Miss Armistead.” The grey-haired sailor smiled. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “No, thank you. Is Captain Reyson unwell?” She held her breath, because she could not contemplate Turner in peril or suffering. “May I be of service?”

  “Cap’n is not ill, Miss Armistead.” Mr. Eastman winked. “He took an early dinner, and I gather he sleeps, Ma’am.”

  “I see.” Again, she pondered a single nagging question. Was Turner avoiding her? If so, why? “Thank you, Mr. Eastman.”

  Without hesitation, she marched to the corridor and traveled the length, stopping before the door to Turner’s cabin. She raised her hand, to knock, but she paused. He had not sought her company, in days, and it stood to reason that if he wanted her, he would have summoned her.

  Plagued with indecision, Rose retreated, returned to his door, and then retraced her steps, when Turner, naked from the waist up, opened the oak panel.

  “Who goes there?” When he spied her, he folded his arms. “What do you want?”

  “I-I want to finish what we started.” She gulped, as that was not what she planned to say. “And I want to know why you shun me, when you once never failed to send for me.”

  “Because I care for you.” His was not the most elegant declaration, but it was all she needed. But when she tried to hug him, he stayed her with an upraised hand. “Sweetheart, I am not strong enough, and I submit it is humanly impossible, to resist you, if you venture into my chamber, again.”

  “All right.” She nodded.

  “I mean it, Rose.” In that moment, he lowered his arm, and she pressed her palms to his warm flesh. “If you come to me, you do so of your own free will, with the full understanding that you will not leave here, until the morning light, if then.”

  In that instant, she crossed the threshold.

  Chapter Five

  It was a sunny, clear morning, as Turner strutted onto the deck. Whistling a naughty shanty, he kept time with echoes of Rose’s moans of passion, which he recollected from when he took her in his bunk just before dawn. Indeed, he was a happy man, because she never failed to rouse him.

  In the days since his woman made a stunning and unexpected appearance at his door, and he seized her intimate treasure, she spent every blissful night in his arms. Of course, they had to be careful, and she waited until her mother snored, before making the dash to his chamber. Since she always woke before her mother, she simply claimed she ventured out to watch the sunrise. She was a smart one, his Rose.

  Perhaps, too smart.

  The one thing that nagged at his conscience was his lady’s unshakable belief that they were engaged to be married. He ducked, he evaded, and he ignored all references to matrimony, while she proposed various details for a ceremony that would never happen, and he dreaded breaking her heart when he left her in Charles Town.

  “Hello, Captain Reyson.” Ah, how his woman worked on him, and his whore’s pipe stirred. When he rotated to greet her, he admired her polished coif and respectable garb, which contrasted with the tangled mess and naked body he left in his bunk, after hours of rough lovemaking. “I trust you slept well?”

  “In truth, I slept very little.” He winked. “As did you, and I will not apologize for that. Will you join me at the helm?”

  “I should be disappointed if you did.” She gi
ggled, and he cherished the lilting sound, as it belied her contentment. “And I would be delighted to accompany you, Captain.”

  Clicking the heels of his boots, he extended an arm, and she settled her hand in the crook of his elbow. Despite their impending separation, he preferred to keep her with him, whenever possible. While the men would be furious when they learned he let her go, he resolved to ensure her freedom, when they reached her home. There would be hell to pay, but he would gladly suffer the consequences, if it meant she survived.

  At the companion ladder, he gave her a lift, and he followed in her wake, to sneak a peek up her skirt and catch a glimpse of her bare arse, which he had yet to breach. As usual, she scanned the vicinity, and he came alert, when she stiffened her spine.

  “What is it?” He peered in the same direction. “What do you see?”

  “A ship.” She pointed, as he extended the bring-em-closer. “Off the starboard bow.”

  “Curse me for breathing, but you have damn good eyes, Rose.” Even with the spyglass, he could barely read the name of the vessel, and his skin tingled. “She is the Sea Serpent.” It was time to avenge his lady. Glancing over his shoulder, he yelled, “Murtaugh, come up on the wind for speed, and beat to quarters.”

  The crew scrambled into action, as Allen and Tolly joined Turner.

  “What is it, Cap’n?” Tolly asked. “Did Fortuna find another prize?”

  “She did, indeed.” Turner savored the thrill of the hunt. “We will board the Sea Serpent and free her cargo, given we are a must faster ship, and I mean to overtake her.” To Allen, Turner said, “Draw the guns and load with grape, as we shall not strike her hull, but you may sweep the deck, and sharpshooters to the tunnels.”

  “Aye, Cap’n.” Allen saluted and leaped down the companion ladder.

  “Tolly, once we are within reach, topsails and fore-course, only.” Turner again assessed his prey. “I want to heel hard a-port, bump her bows, and come up aft. And prepare the men for a broadside. You will take a party and board over her bow, and Eastman will seize the gun deck, while I will muster the men and target her quarterdeck.”

  “Aye, Cap’n.” With a sly smile, Tolly saluted.

  “Turner, what are you doing?” It was then he remembered Rose. “What does it mean to overtake a ship? Are you planning to board the Sea Serpent?”

  “Rose, I want you to go below and lock yourself in your cabin.” He took her by the hand, but she pulled free. “And have Clinton do the same.”

  “No.” She shook her head, and her gaze darted wildly. “What are you about?”

  “You said Donat carries human cargo.” Turner had to think fast to satisfy his woman, or else he would out himself as a pirate. “I consider that an abomination, and I mean to free them.”

  “Is that done?” Fear marred her lovely features, as she bit her bottom lip. “Promise me you will not harm Captain Donat, as I would consider it my fault, because I told you of his nefarious enterprise.”

  “I give you my word, I will not touch Captain Donat.” Of course, that did not mean he would not have someone else kill the bastard. “Now, do as I ask, and go to your quarters.”

  “All right.” When she hesitated, he walked her to the companion ladder. As she turned to descend to the waist, she clutched his fingers. “You will be careful.”

  “I will, and you should sleep, because I will want you, tonight, so you should prepare yourself.” Action always inspired lust, and he already hungered for her body. “I will come for you, when we are clear.”

  After she disappeared below deck, he positioned himself at the bow. For the next few hours, the Malevolent swam the seas, and they quickly moved within range of their target.

  The crew gathered at the waist, and he checked his flintlock pistol and secured it in his waistband. The Sea Serpent tried to flee, but it was too late.

  At the helm, Murtaugh hollered, “Standby to board.”

  As the Malevolent glided alongside the heavier, slower ship, Turner tensed his muscles. “Fire!”

  The boards shuddered beneath his feet, and the Malevolent listed gently a-starboard from the force of the blast. Thus it was time.

  “And away, men.” Turner led the charge aft, with his sword drawn.

  With a single sweep, he severed the boarding netting, his band of buccaneers howled like bloodthirsty animals, and the battle ensued. He stuck one man in the gut, shot another in the face, and shoved a third combatant over the rail.

  “Keep moving.” He stabbed a sailor between the ribs. “Advance. Advance.”

  The Malevolent leveled another salvo, which cleared his path, and he stormed the quarterdeck, where he slit the throat of the helmsman and steered hard a-larboard, until Allen took the gun deck.

  “Cap’n, we secured the guns and took the waist.” Tolly thrust a grey-haired man to the deck. “Allow me to present Captain Donat.”

  “Sir, we searched the hold, and there be human cargo.” Allen wiped blood from his face. “None of the slaves know English, but we found a few that speak French, and Eastman set them free. They say Donat carries ambergris.”

  The wax-like secretion from sperm whales, often found floating at sea, in the remains of the intestines, or washed ashore, ambergris commanded a fortune on the open markets, and Turner could not believe his lady’s luck.

  “Where is the ambergris?” He drew his sword and prodded Donat’s throat. “And where is the money you stole from the Armisteads?”

  “Is that what this is about?” The son of a whore had the audacity to appear offended, and he spat at Turner’s feet. “They were a royal pain in the arse, after they discovered my trade, but I make an honest living. I do not sail the ocean, raping and pillaging respectable, law-abiding mariners.”

  “You call the sale of human flesh an honest living, you miserable cur?” He pressed the point of the blade to Donat’s skin. “Where is the ambergris? And what of the Armistead’s purse?”

  “The pounds are in the top drawer of my desk.” Donat sneered. “The ambergris is hidden behind the stores of flour and corn, and you may go to the devil.”

  “That may be, but you will meet him first.” Turner prepared to strike but halted, as he recalled his promise to Rose. “Allen, kill him, and throw his carcass overboard, as the smell of him alone is enough to wrinkle the noses of pigs.”

  Without a word or hesitation, the quartermaster drew his pistol and fired a single shot between Donat’s eyes. Then he motioned to two sailors, and they grabbed Donat’s ankles, hauled him to the stern, and hefted him over the rail.

  “Signal the Malevolent.” Turner walked to the companion ladder and descended to the waist, where the surviving crew of the Sea Serpent huddled. “You men have a choice, and I will make you a fair bargain. You may sail this ship and its inhabitants back to where you stole them, or you will die, and we will take your vessel a prize and liberate the would-be-slaves, ourselves. What say you, and you do not have all day.”

  A few sailors conversed, and some shook their heads, while others nodded. Finally, just as Turner lost his patience, one man stood.

  “I am Beau Cremble, and I will deliver them to their home.” The salt narrowed his stare. “You be the Cap’n?”

  “They call me Blood Reaver.” A murmur grew among the crew. “If I find out you did not honor our pact, I will hunt you down and slit every one of your gullets. And you will treat them well, do you understand me?”

  “We never liked the foul business, Cap’n.” Cremble waved to his crew, and they pooled behind him. “But there are few jobs for men with no means, so we take what we can get, sir.”

  “Yes, we do.” Turner more than understood the disadvantages of poverty.

  “And what of the ship?” Cremble bowed his head. “I mean no disrespect, Cap’n. But what happens to us, after we pay our debt?”

  “We claim the ambergris and some of your stores, but the Sea Serpent is yours.” Turner checked with his crew, and no one objected. “Do with her as you will.” To
Tolly, Turner said, “Have our men remove the ambergris, and ask Eastman to inventory the stores. He is to take what we need but no more.”

  “Aye, Cap’n.” Tolly saluted.

  With that, Turner strode to the captain’s cabin, located the desk, and opened the top drawer, where he found a small purse, which contained several pounds sterling. After pocketing the coins, which he would return to his woman, he sifted through Donat’s belongings, took a ceremonial sword with a bejeweled hilt, a bracelet of sapphires that would compliment Rose’s pale skin, and some finely tailored coats and shirts.

  When he turned, he caught sight of his reflection in a long mirror. Blood spattered his face and white shirt, and he walked to the washstand, to clean himself.

  From a locker, he pulled some expensive furs, which he would have Rose display for him, while she wore naught but her smile, and a trunk that bore the softest silk. After filling the coffer with his booty, he carried the chest to the waist.

  The deck was alive with activity, as his crew transferred various items to his ship. A couple of tars danced a merry jig, while hefting huge chunks of ambergris. And Allen and Tolly talked with some of the men from the Sea Serpent.

  As Turner prepared to convey his treasure back to his cabin, an eerie sensation nestled in the pit of his gut, and he struggled with an uncomfortable tightening of his chest. For a moment, he studied the sky and inhaled a deep breath, but he could not shake the strange feeling. Rolling his shoulders, he rubbed the back of his neck, and then he glanced at his ship.

  At the waist of the Malevolent, and wearing an expression of unutterable horror, there stood Rose.

  Long after dinner, which Rose could scarcely stomach, given the sorrowful events of the day, she wrung her fingers and paced, as she mulled what she witnessed from the deck of the Malevolent. The blood. The violence. The bodies tossed over the rail, as if they were naught more than refuse. No matter how hard she tried, she could not ignore the obvious. For good or ill, she knew the truth, and she owed her brother an apology.