Heroes & Thieves

by Heather C. Myers

  And then he was gone. She did not remember how long she had been lying in her bed. Her grandfather had knocked, but she had sent him away, claiming fatigue, and he did not question her. The pain was numbing; it was hard for her to even think. She should have been crying, but she wasn't. All she knew was that she could not marry this man. However, she knew she could not go to her family. Her mother and father would not believe her, and she knew that Dustin had a way with words. Even if her parents did believe her, he could find a way so that it seemed it was her fault. And her grandfather, her dear, dear Papa; she could not go to him like this. How ashamed he would be, that his darling granddaughter let someone take advantage of her.

  She had to run away. It was her only option. Arabella could sneak onto a ship, and escape the first place it docked, just as long as it was away from here. Start a new life, give up her inheritance, give up her right to marry Dustin… Her only regret would be leaving Brylee, leaving her Papa… but she had to do it. And she did.

  Belle gasped, so startled by her nightmare that she nearly rolled out of the small bed she was currently occupying in the Bloody Mistake. The ship had docked in Tortuga to pick up supplies before it voyaged out to England. Tortuga was her new home.

  She didn't know if she had been crying in her sleep, or if the tears had started as soon as she had woken up. Nevertheless, they were there, reminding her of that fateful day. It didn't matter that it happened long ago, and far away; it would never disappear.

  Chapter III

  Belle could not go back to sleep after the nightmare she had just experienced. Instead, she busied herself with menial tasks in her one-bedroom room, just above the Bloody Mistake. Norman had given her a room, free of charge, if she worked for him. At thirteen years old with no one to take care of her, she could not reject the free shelter nor the opportunity to make some money. In fact, it was more than she could ask for, and eight years later, she was still there. After sweeping, she headed down stairs were Simon, the morning cook, made her a plate of scrambled eggs and breakfast potatoes, which she ate with much enthusiasm. When she had finished, she helped around the scrag, though she didn't have to, until half past eleven rolled around.

  Stephen Sweeney's Supply Shop was located near the docks so it was easier to load the ships. The sun was high up in the sky, indicating the approximate noon time. Belle glanced around, but found no indication of Captain Donovan's presence, so she decided to go into the shop so that she could speak with Martin first. She spotted Stephen's younger brother, Bert, bouncing a ball on a nearby wall. The ball ricocheted off the wall and somehow ended up back in the ten year old's hand, no matter how high, how low, how right, or how left the ball went.

  "Arabella," a warm voice greeted her, and she turned. Stephen Sweeney was the only person on this bloody island that ever called Belle by her full name. He was quite the gentleman, which surprised her initially. She believed residents in Tortuga were rather forward with their obvious intentions, and most of them were, but good-natured people were sprinkled throughout the town. It was just harder to find them.

  "Stephen," Belle replied, with a smile on her face. She walked over to meet him, and greeted him with her usual kiss on the cheek. When she pulled away, she was not surprised to find the supply sale man blushing.

  Stephen Sweeney was quite handsome at twenty-four. He was pushing six feet, with brown hair tied back with a piece of navy blue ribbon. Though it was hard to maintain clean clothes on the island, he always looked immaculate and sharp; not only were his clothes always clean, but they were pressed, and his boots were always polished. He had kind, crystal blue eyes and a dimple in his left cheek. While the man was so obviously sweet on Belle, she did not necessarily return such sentiments. The man, of course, was quite deserving of such sentiments, and there were times when Belle would question why she did not fancy him the way he fancied her. It was unexplainable, and Belle had given up long ago on trying to reason with herself. She had learned long ago that she could not force herself to love someone, despite feeling that she should.

  "And what brings you around?" he asked her. "Not that I mind your presence, just curious is all."

  Belle chuckled. "Oh Stephen," she said with a smile. Her face turned serious momentarily. "Actually, I have come to ask you a grand favor."

  "Anything, Arabella," he replied honestly. This just caused guilt to run through Belle's veins. She knew he would do anything for her, and she did not like taking advantage of that. But a bet was a bet; there was no going back now. She took a breath, determined to go through with her question. "I came across Captain Aaron Donovan last night at the Mistake. He was playing some sort of dice game with his crew, and well… you know how much I long to leave Tortuga, so I asked if I could play…"

  "You made a gamble," he stated, knowingly. "Oh, Arabella, you know die games are for men. You didn't gamble free supplies, did you?"

  Belle shook her head so quickly that strands of her hair slipped out of the loose elastic and surrounded her heart-shaped face. "Of course not," she told him. "I did, however, promise him a discount on supplies before he leaves. I really did think I was going to win."

  Stephen stared at the sheepish young woman before finally relenting. He knew he could never say no to her, even if she had promised the pirate captain his whole store. That woman would most definitely be the death of him one day… He pulled Belle into a hug. Instinctively, Belle tensed. She had never grown comfortable with physical contact with a man, despite her close relationship with him. Her mind started to numb itself, waiting for it to be over.

  "Am I interrupting something?" a familiar voice drawled somewhere behind her. "Shall I come back later?"

  Belle took this opportunity to break free from Stephen's hold. She spun on the heel of her worn shoe, and tilted her head slightly to the side, giving him a cool look. "You are already late," she said as she watched him swagger over to where she was standing. "This is Stephen Sweeney; he will give you the generous discount on whatever supplies you need, as I have promised."

  "All right then," Aaron said, and turned to this Stephen Sweeney, ready to divulge all the necessary information to the man. Belle took this time to disappear, deciding to visit Bert for a while before she had to head back to the scrag to start her shift.

  "Hello Bert," she said with a warm smile. "What is it that you are playing?"

  The boy caught the ricocheting ball and turned to observe her. He looked just like his older brother, except Bert's eyes were a bit darker and his hair was a bit lighter.

  "I don't know what it's called," he answered politely, then glanced at his brother. His eyes grew wide with recognition and he shifted his attention back to Belle. "Is that Captain Aaron Donovan? I didn't know he was here on Tortuga! Do ye think he'll speak to me?"

  Belle smiled at Bert's enthusiasm concerning the pirate captain. She knew that if she had seen Captain Donovan at Bert's age, she'd probably feel the same way. "Would you like me to introduce you to him?" she asked Bert, and had to bite her bottom lip when the young boy could do nothing but nod once. She took Bert's hand into her own and led the young boy over to the conversing men. They waited until the two had finished before Belle spoke.

  "Captain Donovan," she called, causing the pirate captain to pause in mid-step and regard her with a patient glance. Belle took this as means to go on. "I would like to introduce you to an admirer of yours." She glanced to her left, where she had left the young boy, only to find him gone. A glance to her right revealed the same thing.

  "If this is some sort of psychological game where you are, in fact, my admirer, I would just like to remind you that we have already met," he said cheekily, and she pursed her lips.

  "Trust me," she muttered under her breath. "I am no admirer."

  At that moment, Bert stuck his head out from behind Belle, and looked at the pirate captain with wide eyes. "Ah," Belle said, upon noticing him, "there you are." She took a step to the side so Bert was fully revealed. "Bert, this is Captain Aar
on Donovan. Captain Donovan, this is Bert Sweeney."

  Bert seemed frozen in his place, still not fully believing that the legendary pirate captain was standing right before him. Belle's hand on his back caused him to blink once, and with the gentle help from the young woman, he walked towards Captain Donovan a couple of steps. The boy did not expect the pirate to be so tall; Aaron stood at six foot five at the very least, making him all that more intimidating. But Belle did not seem to be afraid of him, and so Bert believed there was no reason why he should be either.

  "Nice to meet you, Bert," Aaron began, and stuck out his hand. Bert shook it, still dazed. "How old are you, then?"

  "T-ten, sir," Bert managed to reply, proud that he managed to say anything.

  "No need to call me sir, lad," Aaron relayed. "Now, do you want to be a pirate when you get older?"

  "Pirates are bad guys," Bert said, without thinking. Immediately he began cursing in his mind. How could he have said something so stupid in front of the legendary Captain Aaron Donovan? He watched, obvious worry flashing in his dark eyes, hoping that the pirate captain would not be offended at his slip-up.

  Instead of anger, however, Captain Donovan smirked, his usual cold, dark eyes sparkling mischievously. "Sometimes, son," he said in a serious voice, "the best good guys are, in fact, bad guys." He paused, merely looking at the boy. He glanced up at the young woman, who was watching him intently, before saying, "It was nice to meet you, Bert. Remember what I said, aye? You'll never hear truer words."

  Chapter IV

  As Belle pulled on the mandated dress that Norman was keen on her wearing after managing to go all of last night in a tunic and breeches, she began to think. Every day, it seemed to be the same routine: wake up, complete any tasks or errands that she needed to complete, and then go to work. She knew she should be grateful, but there were times when she grew tiresome of the same old thing. Her life was like a melody replayed, over and over again; a song sung so many times that she grew sick of it.

  When she finished, she let her hair down, only to tie it back up tighter. She sighed, and walked over to her window. The sun was setting against the horizon. Caribbean sunsets were always breathtaking to her, but she had always wanted to view one on the sea, watching the sun bleed into the water. Tortuga could be beautiful at night as it lit up against the night sky, but it got rowdy as it did beautiful. There were a few times Belle had been threatened, but she knew how to defend herself. After her incident with Dustin, she made sure she learned how to protect herself if another similar incident occurred, be it with her fist or a sword. Martin had been happy to teach her, and three days a week, they would practice. Granted, Belle was definitely not the strongest woman in Tortuga, but she was quick.

  After curling errant strands of hair behind her ear, she proceeded to head out her room, locking the door behind her, and walking downstairs. Bessy seemed to have been waiting for her because when Belle made her appearance, she pulled the young woman aside and said, as quietly as she possibly could despite the nosiness of the scrag, said, "Givin' ye a caution, dearie." Her cool dark blue eyes looked serious as she regarded her younger counterpart. "Ol' Richard Steward's 'ere with his crew of miscreants. Be careful, ay? I know ye say ye can handle yerself and whatnot, but be smart."

  "I am wounded, Bessy," Belle said with a coy grin on her face. "How dare you think of me as anything but smart."

  "Cheeky," Bessy muttered, as she rolled her eyes, but a smile played on her lips nonetheless. "Better watch it; some gents find that attractive." And with that, she sauntered away.

  Belle rolled her eyes and proceeded to take orders and serve food and drinks. She was friendly and charming, as she normally was with customers, and believed that tonight would go on rather smoothly, despite Richard Steward's presence. However, it seemed to go downhill once Bessy took her leave, and Belle had to cover Steward's table.

  "Look at this one, lads," Steward said as Belle approached their table. His hazel-brown eyes blatantly studied the young woman and a smirk appeared on his chiseled face. "Why didn't we get this one in the first place?"

  Belle studied him a moment with her brow furrowed until she realized that Steward wanted her to answer. "I had different tables," she told him, and then shifted her weight as an indication of her impending impatience.

  "Ooh-hooh," Steward chuckled, glancing at the five other men with him, one of whom had a whore on his lap. "Look at how she speaks, all hoity-toity and whatnot." He looked her up and down yet again, and what he believed was to be a husky voice, asked, "What kind of services will ye be offerin' tonight?"

  "Not the kind that your eyes have been insinuating," Belle said, her patience finally pushed to its breaking point. "Now, if you could all just tell me what you will be having, I can be on my way and you can watch my arse as I take my leave." She cocked a brow, waiting for his response and placed her hand on her jutted hip.

  "Now, hear me, missy," Steward said, his hazel eyes flashing dangerously as he stood up. Belle was only five foot five while Steward was a couple of inches past six foot. Despite the height discrepancy, Belle wouldn't allow herself to feel intimidated. Yes, it was all a giant façade, but it worked. "No woman has ever talked to me the way you be talking to me."

  "Yes, well, that is probably because no woman will ever talk to you," Belle quipped. "Now do you need a refill of your drinks, or can I be on my way?"

  Steward narrowed his eyes threateningly, and before Belle could react, lunged forward and clamped his hands around the bar maid's throat, lifting her a couple of inches off the ground.

  "Now, you will apologize for yer rude comments, or I will snap your pretty little neck right here." His voice was low and his tone was serious. Belle gasped, trying to inhale, but she wasn't completely successful. "Well?" Steward cocked his head to the side as the scrag grew quiet, turning their attention to the scene Belle had indirectly caused.

  Belle would not relent. She would not let anyone walk all over her, not after what Dustin had done to her. She may not have her innocence anymore, but she'd be damned if she let anyone take her dignity. While she would usually surprise someone with a quick jab somewhere and then disappear into a crowd, she could do no such motion in her current predicament. Instead, she did all she could physically do at the moment; she spat in his face. Immediately, he dropped her in surprise. She took the time to kick him in his groin as hard as she could, causing him to stumble back as he let out a cry of pain.

  Steward's crew stood up and surrounded the young woman. The audience began to chant the word 'fight', crowding those involved in the discrepancy. Belle tried to back out, but the five men had fully surrounded her; she had nowhere to go. She looked helplessly in the crowd for anyone that might help her, but they seemed intent on watching a fight break out regardless of whether or not it involved a woman.

  "Ye are goin' to regret doin' that, dearie," Steward said throatily, pulling himself up and staggering towards her. He looked ready to kill. Belle wondered idly for a moment about if he would use some sort of weapon to kill her, or if he would do it by hand.

  "You touch her and I'll make you regret the day you were born," Captain Aaron Donovan stated darkly, breaking from the crowd and stepping in the small circle to stand beside Belle. She glanced up at him; goodness he was tall, and realized that her breath had become short and she was breathing heavily.

  "Well, well, well," Steward said, shifting his eyes from the young woman to the pirate captain. "If it isn't Aaron Donovan, the Robin Hood pirate. Steal from the rich and give to the poor, isn't that right?" He paused, taking a look at the surrounding crowd before refocusing his attention on the two before him. "Admirable it be… admirable and stupid."

  "While I appreciate your opinion, I do not remember asking for it. While I know it may be hard, but please refrain yourself from offering any advice," Donovan said, looking down at Steward as though the man was a waste of his time.

  "You and the wench speak the same way; like yer better than us!" bark
ed Steward, his bushy brow furrowed.

  "It does not mean we are better than you," Belle said, speaking for the first time. "It just means we are educated."

  "Probably not the best way to state that," Donovan said under his breath. His eyes grew darker, if that was even possible, as he regarded Steward once again. "Now, we can take this outside and sort this mess out, or we can remain civilized, let bygones be bygones, and walk away. Your choice, mate." He perked his brow to further his point.

  Steward, breathing raggedly, glanced at his men. Belle watched him intently, surprised to see his rough demeanor break; he looked worried for the first time she had known him. She glanced at Captain Aaron Donovan from the corner of her eye; apparently there was more to him than she initially believed. The Robin Hood of the Seven Seas seemed to have a darker side she had never heard of in any of the tales her grandfather had told her. It would seem that not only was he respected, but feared as well. Then, surprising nearly everyone including Belle herself, Steward turned and began to walk away.

  "Horrible rum 'ere anyway!" he exclaimed as he headed out the door with his loyal crew following him, albeit a tad confused. Steward was notorious for his anger, and as a result, his violence. They had never seen him surrender a good brawl before.

  Once the door slammed shut, cheers began and scrag life resumed normally. Donovan swiveled on his heel, his hands on his hips, as he glanced pointedly at the reason for all this commotion. "You seem to have a knack for stirring up trouble, don't you?" he drawled. It was a statement, and she knew he did not expect an answer in return, so she remained silent as she tried to calm her beating heart down.

  The pirate captain turned and headed towards his usual table in the back. Belle could do nothing but watch him walk away.