AMBER WAKE: Gabriel Falling (The Razor's Adventures Pirate Tales)

by P. S. Bartlett

  “Gabriel, stop,” Antone remarked.

  “Hold your tongue, Jonathan. I’ll get around to you. I discovered the Crown did not benefit from your yearly voyages to the Caribbean.” I turned my attention back to Chambers and my voice increased in volume and depth as I paced in front of him. “The Crown did not benefit from your trade in Africa, either.” The lieutenants turned, now looking at Chambers through narrowed eyes.

  “Wallace, you know nothing…of the workings of empires and the world.” He rubbed at his neck and coughed.

  “You know nothing of humbling in a position of defeat and listening to the victor but you will listen today! My father was loyal to the Crown. He and King William were known to have discussions about the political atmosphere in Parliament. Prince George had long conversations with him about the tedium of politics and the desire to escape it all and enjoy life, rather than rule it. But he and Prince George had the same problem—a wife attacked by her enemies and in need of support from her husband.”

  A bloodied sneer grew on Chambers’s face as he was lowered to wiping his nose on his sleeve. “Little good your father did your mother.”

  Again this man begged for my blade but I wanted him alive…for now. I looked at the lieutenants, still standing at attention. Jonathan Antone’s misshapen nose pointed down at the still defiant expression of Chambers. Jonathan’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides and his chest heaved with angry breaths.

  “You apparently are not aware of the influence my mother had on our family friends,” I said. “No matter our squabbles at present, they were very protective of her and took her death to heart. However, this isn’t about my family’s sins, is it? You and Hawthorne, as well as many others, have been working against the Crown by using the Whigs to fight them at every turn to keep them distracted. Meanwhile, you have been working for another power during the war over Spain’s throne.”

  Chambers clenched his bared teeth as I continued. “It was not Louis. It was not the Whigs. The only power that came to mind that could possibly benefit from vast amounts of gold and the distraction of the rulers of the Britain was someone living in exile in France; James, the pretend king. He had no power but with a grand plan and supreme ego enough to convince you to turn traitor on your own country, your own Crown, he wrapped you around his finger in gold.”

  “Hold your tongue, Wallace.” Chambers struggled to his feet. “Shut your bastard mouth!”

  “The Jacobites got to you, Chambers. They bought you.” Chambers charged at my words but was met by my big boot in his gut, knocking him backwards onto the floor. “Wallace,” he groaned, holding his stomach as he tried to rise. “You don’t understand anything. I should have rid myself of you before you ever made lieutenant, let alone captain.”

  “You give money to the enemies of the Crown and pocket as much as you can manage to hide.” I struck him again, this time with my fist to his jaw, knocking him again onto his back. “Is it really worth it to you to be a traitor to fulfill the goal of becoming a Duke? So you could be part of James’s Privy Council? You were to be his Lord Chamberlain. What would the Earl of Kent say to that? Worst of all, you used innocent young men—men who trusted you and did your bidding based on lies and deceit. You’ve involved hundreds of unwitting, dedicated souls, many of whom lay dead or dying, at this very instant because of you!”

  “You’ll hang for this Wallace! They’re dead by your hand. Mine are clean in this!” he shouted at me from the floor with his palms pressed into the air as if he could stop me from the hard kicks I landed in his ribs until they cracked in response.

  “Gabriel, stop!” I awoke from my angry stupor and looked at Jonathan beside me. “Remember Admiral Hawthorne and what you said to him the night he was killed. Let us take him back and put him before the Queen. Allow all of London to view his death, where all traitors may view their inevitable end.”

  “You are a part of his crew; Henry as well,” I hissed.

  “We followed orders, Gabriel. You must believe none of us were privy to all of his misdeeds. His true objectives were his own.”

  “You knew he was robbing the Crown and yet…”

  “Yes, we turned a blind eye when he increased our wages off the ledgers. We did what we were ordered or else…”

  “Or else you’d have ended up like me.” I stood over Chambers’s motionless body staring down at him. My hand rested on my sword, yet the yearning I’d felt for months to end him left my body with a heavy sigh. The man I’d once admired and then despised was no more than a heap of bloodied flesh and broken bones clinging to life. He was nothing. Although he still drew shallow breath, he was dead anyway.

  “Gabriel, please. If you do this, you will never be able to return to London,” Jonathan pleaded, resting his hand on my shoulder.

  “Gabriel,” I heard Miles’s voice behind me in the doorway. He spread his arms as if opening a pathway for me to exit the cabin. I followed the path, walking in silence onto the deck and through the gathered mob. No one spoke to me but as I passed, every man stepped back and out of my way and landed a soft pat on my back and shoulders until I, at last, reached the gangplank and crossed onto the Assurance.

  Twenty-Nine

  “Cap’n Wallace, sir! Thank God you’re all right!” Adam shouted, meeting me in the doorway of my cabin. No widened eyes full of shock and fear at my bloodied clothes, only concern for my well-being, enveloped in his usual doting attention to my needs. “Come now, you need to rest.”

  “Yes, Adam, I believe I will. I’ll need more water, please.”

  I pawed at my torn and bloodied shirt as I lumbered to my chair near the hearth and collapsed into it. I couldn’t raise my arms above my head without feeling as if they’d come unhinged from my shoulders. I clawed at the material and ripped it away from my body in pieces and tossed the rags into the fireplace. Adam reappeared with fresh clothes and two more pitchers of water. He silently pulled the bloodied boots from my feet and carried them out the door with him. “Bright lad, ye are,” I mumbled.

  Pushing myself up, I washed and washed again. If not for the frenzied sharks now gathered to collect the spoils of dead men, I’d have leapt overboard into the water rather than watch the basin before me turn red. Splintered wood covered in my blood, Chambers’s blood, and God only knows who else’s mingled in the murky water. I opened the wide cabin windows and tossed it into the sea. At last I was clean; at least as clean as I could be.

  I was done. Months of living on the run as a pirate were over. Once Prince George was informed of the goings-on of Chambers, things would change in his and the Queen’s favor. There was no more I could do for them. The time had come at last to care for me and mine.

  I walked to my mirror and in my mind’s eye, visions emerged; the dead young man in the hold with the gold. I saw Mitton. I saw Ryan’s face after the death of his friend. I saw the dead men on the deck of the Stegman. I saw the round-shot destroy the young men on the gunnels. I had justified it and freed myself of any guilt by telling myself they knew what they were doing. I lowered my head, unable to further look at my own reflection.

  Jonathan had proven me wrong. They were not all aware. They were not all guilty but I was. Had I even listened to Asperson aboard the Lancaster or anyone for that matter? Regardless of my intentions or how noble I believed my cause, Chambers was right; I killed them all. The burden weighing on my mortal soul was mine to bear.

  I scribbled my orders for Miles and handed off the note to Adam as I lay in my bunk. My throbbing head took care of the rest. I slept.

  There was a soft tapping at my door. “Yes, Adam,” I croaked. My throat was parched.

  Adam entered with a tray of food and drink. “You must be hungry, sir. You’ve slept more than a day now.”

  “A day?” My throat felt like scraping shards of glass.

  He smiled.

  “Aye, a day, ye lazy mutt,” Miles said from the doorway. “I ordered him to let you sleep. I had to station Clarke at your door f
or part of the time before the lad realized how serious I was. I changed your bandages while you slept. You smell rancid, by the way, old friend. I secretly also wanted to make certain you had not died in your sleep.” He sat on the corner of my desk and smiled.

  “Always mothering me, aren’t you, Miles?” I pushed myself up and slid my legs over the side of my bunk, laying my face in my hands. “Where are we?” I asked.

  “On our way back to Port Royal, as planned,” Miles said.

  “As planned?”

  He nodded. “Gimby told me about what was to be done next. With you unconscious, he knew you would not wish to waste time.” He lowered his head and rolled his eyes up at me. I could see the old, familiar look on his face of disappointment in me for not sharing my intentions with him. “Are you certain this is what you want?”

  “It’s a new day, Miles. Regardless of Chambers’s guilt, we’re fugitives and we’ve caused a great deal of damage. There will be a lot of angry men looking for this ship and I, for one, am through fighting…for a while anyway.” I smiled.

  “So am I to call you Rasmus from now on?”

  “Those angry men are looking for Gabriel Wallace. Call me anything but that!” I laughed and then inquired as to the rest of the story. “The Stegman?”

  “About two miles out, at the bottom of the sea. The Stegman’s and Lancaster’s remaining men are now aboard the Buckingham, with enough provisions to make it to the Carolinas, where they may make any needed repairs or acquire another ship.”

  “Chambers?”

  “Alive but barely. Hopefully he’ll make it to the noose.”

  “Port Royal it is, then. I, for one am in need of land and a real bed.”

  “Gimby and I have been discussing that,” Miles said.

  I looked up at him. “Discussing what?”

  “Rest for you, as well as the crew and that includes me. Oh, I almost forgot. You have a visitor and we have a new crewman.” Miles turned and walked to my cabin door opening it to the man on the other side.

  “Captain Wallace, I’m to understand you are now to be addressed as Captain Rasmus Bergman, according to Mister Jacobs. Of course, having met you as Mister Bergman, I suppose the change will come easily for me.”

  “Asperson?” I cocked my head at the lad and could scarcely believe the man had given up his duties to follow me. “Have ye lost your bloody mind, lad?”

  “Perhaps but I suppose that’s left to be seen and I anxiously await the journey to find out.”

  I pushed myself to my feet to shake the man’s hand and welcome him aboard the Assurance. “All right, ye lot of meddlin’ females, get to work. Mister Jacobs?”

  “Aye, Captain?”

  “Take this dinghy into Port Royal and fill the crew’s pockets with enough gold to ruin themselves but not enough to get them killed. And find me a decent inn with a feather bed where I may lay my head for at least a week. The rest, I suppose, we’ll figure out as we go.”

  Miles smiled widely and laughed aloud, along with young Asperson. “By the way lad, what’s your given name?”

  “William, sir.”

  “Well, William, take Mister Jacobs here and do what I ordered. What’s a man have to do to eat his last meal on this ship in peace?” I grumbled, waving everyone away and out of my sight. They knew I was being facetious in a jesting way and smiled at my scowling face as they bowed on their way to their work.

  “Gentlemen, wait! One final word; it’s been a pleasure sailing with you all and I look forward to having you sign on when I’ve found myself a new ship.”

  “A new ship, Captain?” Asperson asked, wide-eyed.

  “This one has worn out her welcome for me. Carry on, sir. I’ll see you ashore.”

  Once the room was cleared except for Miles and Gimby, I gave my final order.

  “Gimby, we’ll blow her at dawn. Is everything ready?”

  “Ready and waiting in the hold, sir. Ten barrels a’ powder and a fuse long enough fer me to get away,” he said with a wink.

  “Sort it out and have the men off-load everything they can carry at midnight. Once everyone is ashore, light the fuse.”

  “Sun up, Cap’n,” I heard Adam say as he stood over me.

  “Indeed it is, lad. Indeed it is,” I answered, rising without a hint of an ache or pain from my soft feather bed in the Maison De Fleur. Adam insisted I would turn as soft as a kitten for my indulgence in such a lofty establishment but without another option on that sloppy mound of sand they called Port Royal, that didn’t come with cockroaches the size of rats and rats the size of dogs, I hushed him up with a stack of books and his own journal. I even provided him with his own room, complete with a desk beneath a wide window facing east so he could empty his head in the morning sun.

  By noon, I’d engaged Mister Asperson to tutor Adam in the afternoons and until I’d figured out where our lives were headed, I’d even hired a young, caramel-skinned Jamaican woman to govern him and keep watch over him in the evening. Hell, I even gave the lad a bed-time and insisted he wear a clean and proper night-shirt.

  In less than two weeks, I felt better than I had in years. For a while, I decided it was best to live day-to-day and not weigh myself down with decisions larger than what to eat and where to eat it. I was concerned with the behavior of the crew in port but Miles reminded me we were in the belly of the land of piracy and despite a few tussles and bloody noses, our men were faring well in their new environment. So far, no one was dead or in jail. Add to that, Gimby already had his sights on a new ship for us to take a look at.

  I’d decided on that night to take supper in my room and watch the sunset over the harbor from my balcony. As I stood at the railing, a knock came at my door. It was Miles. “Old man, are you still held up in your castle tower or would you like to join me for a glass of rum?”

  “Ye know I never touch the stuff.” I smiled, waving him off and eyeing his disappointment with a bit of guilt. “Well, is it the good stuff at least? I can’t stomach that poison they pour in those scurvy holes along the wharf.”

  “I found a place down there where, for a few pennies more, you’ll get the best from Tortuga and they’ll even pour it in a clean mug,” he said with a chuckle that escaped through his words.

  “Well then, what are we waiting for? Lead the way.”

  The Golden Gull was dark. It was like walking down an alley on a moonless night with a candle in your hand. However, there were plenty of candles and we managed to take the last table and were joined by several of the crew. They laughed and spoke aside but I overheard them going on about the show and finding some comfort for the night with one of the girls.

  “What girls?” I turned and asked Miles. “The only females I see are the barmaids and if one doesn’t make it to this table soon and refill my glass, I’ll be spittin’ raw cotton.”

  “Hold your temper, Red. First, I have to ply you with good rum and now I have to go and get it for you. Remind me of my duties again, because I don’t recall…” Miles stopped at the sound of a loud and bawdy band playing. “Big Red, may I present the entertainment.”

  “Now you know I don’t go in for these sorts of…” I stopped. I’d tried to look away but I couldn’t. I sat frozen and watched as the women paraded down the stairs behind the bar to the lewd shouts and cheers of every man in that pub. Halfway down the stairs, they peeled away their blouses to reveal a teasing shoulder as they danced and sang, but all I saw was a mass of strawberry-blond curls atop a freckle nose…and bright green eyes.

  “Miles, I know that girl.” I had walked halfway across the room towards her before I realized where I was and what I was doing or that Miles’s hand was on my sleeve.

  “Rasmus, wait.” And he too stopped, staring at her. “Dear God in heaven, is it her?”

  Everything fell silent in my mind as I watched her, bare-breasted, bouncing and twirling on those stairs, until, at last, I removed my hat and stroked my beard down smooth and her eyes landed on my face. My eyes, now glist
ening with tears, watched as she shook and clawed at her dress, covering herself. I couldn’t move until I heard her voice. Heard it I did.

  “Gabriel!”

  About the Authors

  Award winning author, P.S. Bartlett, was born on Valentine's Day many moons ago in South Baltimore, Maryland, less than a mile from Fort McHenry and Federal Hill.

  Her first novel, Fireflies, was published with GMTA Publishing in 2013 and the prequel to Fireflies, entitled, Hope From the Ocean, was published in March of 2014, followed by the flagship book in her new series The Blue Diamond - The Razor's Edge, in October of 2014.

  She loves history and historical fiction. She gets her history fix via movies, television and of course, books although she enjoys reading almost every genre.

  Her motto is: "I'm taking a fantastic voyage. Won't you join me?"

  Ronovan Hester is a writer living near Athens, Ga, home of his alma mater, The University of Georgia, where he received a B.S.Ed. in History Education. Ronovan puts his love of history and his over 20 years of writing experience to use in his debut Historical Adventure set in 1705 England, American Colonies, and Caribbean co-authored with P.S. Bartlett.

  Ronovan’s devotion to history and writing sometimes competes with his love of tacos and fresh fruit. At times, all his favorite things work hand in hand in mouth during long binge writing sessions that have been known to last nonstop for over 24 hours. Rather than see a sleep disorder as a hindrance, he uses the time for creative purposes or watching old TV shows on online.

  Ronovan enjoys putting elements of history, if only as nods to the past, in all of his book projects. He currently instills that love of history and learning in his son daily as he helps him through his college prep courses, meaning hours of homework every night, even while not yet a teenager—his son, not Ronovan. Now if he could find a very good mute for that trumpet his son just began learning.