Struggling to her feet, she helped her friends rise, her mind numb with confusion and fear. Gunpowder and smoke bit her nose. Dazed, the women stood staring at the crater. A shout sounded. All eyes fixed on the sea where the outline of a tall ship drifted like a giant sea serpent before the rising sun. Smoke curled from her charred hull.
A man on the deck held something to his mouth.
“This is pirate ship Espoliar. Surrender or die!”
C
HAPTER 17
Sweat streamed down James’s back that no amount of sea breeze could cool. Not even the continual gust swirling about the colonists as they were forced to line up at sword point before the pirate crew and their captain. Some of the men, James included, had made a valiant dash to retrieve pistols and what few supplies they had left amid a spray of grapeshot. They’d succeeded too—had even managed to gather the hysterical colonists and dive into the jungle. What they hadn’t counted on was the preplanning of the pirate captain in the form of a dozen muskets that greeted them through the leaves. Now, back on the beach, those same muskets, along with a mishmash of swords and pistols, in the hands of over thirty pirates dressed like colorful parrots, tore any remaining hope of escape to shreds.
The sun, high in the sky, set the sand aflame and sea aglitter as waves crashed on the beach with an ominous thunder that matched the pounding of James’s heart. Several yards offshore, the Espoliar, complete with a dozen bronze lantaka rail guns and a jolly roger sporting an hourglass and cutlass, bobbed and dipped with each incoming wave.
Captain Armando Manuel Ricu brazenly strolled before them, pantaloons and loose shirt flapping in the wind. A mane of curly black hair framed a long face with a tuft of dark whiskers crowning the chin. Every time he moved, sunlight glinted off dozens of jeweled pins scattered across his embroidered waistcoat like stars across the night sky, blinding James.
The twisted scene could match any of those pulled from a storybook espousing an age of piracy long since dead. Yet it was a scene James had witnessed not three months before in similar grueling detail when this same Captain Ricu had stolen Magnolia and brought her aboard his ship. If not for Hayden’s ingenuity and courage, they would not have rescued her in time. Even now, after nudging Magnolia behind him, Hayden stood, arms crossed, face like flint, an impenetrable fortress protecting his wife.
James hoped it would be enough to deter the flamboyant captain. Though Eliza eased beside Blake and met the pirate’s gaze with valor, the remaining women stood behind the line of men, hugging the children close. Mr. Keen, the poor farmer on James’s right, couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. Down the line, another man kept muttering to himself. Dodd stared straight ahead as if he’d gone numb. Yet, Patrick Gale fingered his goatee and kept glancing toward the jungle as if devising a plan of escape. Only for him, no doubt.
Mrs. Scott’s whimper brought James’s gaze around to see the lady swooning in her husband’s arms. Moses stood beside Mable, while his sister and her children cowered behind his massive frame. James’s eyes met Angeline’s. He’d assumed she was with the other women, but instead she’d moved behind him. Though the corners of her mouth tightened and her chest rose and fell like a billowing sea, she gave no other indication of fear. He smiled and nodded, hoping to offer her a reassurance he didn’t feel before he faced forward again.
Captain Ricu stopped before Hayden, studied him intently, then drew a knife longer than his arm and pointed it at his chest. Hayden didn’t blink.
“I remember you. You striked me in my cabin. And you…” He dipped his head, first to one side of Hayden—and when Hayden moved to block his view—to the other side, before he reached to pull Magnolia forward. “You be the pretty thing I took to bed.”
One of the women gasped.
Despite the terror screaming from her blue eyes, Magnolia lifted her chin. “I was the one who struck you, not this man.” In a valiant effort to protect Hayden, she placed a finger on the pirate’s blade and moved it aside.
But Hayden was having none of it. Eyes like slits and jaw bunching, he shoved between them, tugging Magnolia from the pirate’s grip. “Almost,” he ground out. “You almost took her to bed. But she’s my wife now, and you’ll not be taking her anywhere.”
Captain Ricu chuckled, turned, and said something in Portuguese to his men, which caused an outburst of laughter among the slovenly band. He faced Hayden again. “One thing to learn”—raising his voice, he shifted his gaze over all the colonists—“all must learn. I am Captain Ricu and I take what I want when I want.”
Hayden clenched fists at his sides. Not a good sign. James must do something before he slugged the pirate captain and mayhem ensued, no doubt ending in an early death for them all. Stepping forward, James opened his mouth to speak when Blake beat him to it.
“What is it you want, Captain?” The colonel’s annoyance rang louder than his fear. “As you can see, we have lost everything in a recent flood. We have nothing of value. So, take what you want and be gone with you.”
Captain Ricu sauntered toward him. “You are leader, yes?” He sized Blake up with eyes as dark as coal, waiting for Blake’s nod of affirmation. “You remember me?”
“Of course.” Blake frowned.
“Then you know why I come.” He flung hair over his shoulder in a feminine gesture that defied his fearsome appearance.
Dodd, standing on James’s left, took a step back, trying to hide himself in James’s shadow.
“We have no gold,” Hayden shouted over the wind. “We didn’t have any the last time you came and we don’t have any now.”
The captain’s eyes snapped his way but halted upon Eliza. He curled a finger around a loose strand of her hair. “What say you, bela?” Stiffening, Blake flung an arm in front of her. She pushed it down. “I know of no gold, Captain.”
“Search our things and see for yourself,” James said.
“I no need your permit, idiota!” Captain Ricu barked at James then suddenly swung around and snapped his jeweled fingers. One of his men came running with a surprisingly white handkerchief, which the pirate took and swiped over his face and neck before he flung it back at the man. With a sigh, he faced the colonists again and took up a pace before them, eyeing them up and down as if they were slices of meat hung to cure. In defiance of his ominous presence, the jeweled pins on his waistcoat made a delicate jingling sound. Or was it the bells he wore on his boots? He halted before Mr. Keen who stood beside James. “What be this?” His lip curled as he raised his knife toward the poor man.
Drops of sweat quivered on Mr. Keen’s trembling jaw. James reached toward the farmer to tug him away, but sunlight blinked off the gold earring in Ricu’s ear, temporarily blinding him. Mr. Keen’s legs gave out, and he fell to his knees. The pirate leveled his blade beneath the man’s chin and raised him to his feet, sniffing the air as if he smelled something foul. A drop of blood trickled down the farmer’s neck.
Another string of Portuguese spilled from the captain’s lips, ending with the emphasized word covarde, which brought the expected chuckles from his men.
“Leave him alone.” Taking Mr. Keen’s arm, James shoved him out of the pirate’s reach. “Can’t you see he’s scared out of his wits?”
Captain Ricu turned to James with a chuckle. “And você? Are you scared out of these wits?”
“No.”
Ricu swerved the knife toward James’s chest. He felt the prick through his shirt but didn’t flinch. Instead, he returned Ricu’s staunch gaze with one of his own and was surprised by the intelligence he saw in the pirate’s dark eyes. He also saw bloodlust. And something else that made him squirm—a crazed gleam. Uttering a silent prayer, James braced himself to be run through, to feel his lifeblood poured out upon the sand and end his days on this Brazilian shore. But the pirate suddenly whirled on his shiny heels and pranced down the line of colonists. Yes, pranced. Like a giddy schoolboy. “ ’Tis a map I seek. Three maps in truth.” He waved his hand through the air, the
lace at his cuff fluttering in the breeze.
Patrick slid his boot across the sand and exchanged a frightful glance with Dodd. Captain Ricu, who seemed to miss nothing, headed toward them.
“What maps are these, Captain?” Blake asked. “I know of no maps.”
Ricu spun about. “Three old maps. Three maps that need a fourth. Fourth one I have.” He patted his pocket, dark brows flashing. “Maps that lead to vast gold to make a man rich for many lives.”
James glared at Dodd. This blasted gold would be the ruin of them all!
A cloud gobbled up the sun, giving them a moment’s reprieve from the heat. James rubbed the sweat from the back of his neck and scanned the pirates again. If only they could catch them off guard, storm them, and grab their weapons before they knew what was happening. But not these men. Though filthy and bearded and wearing clothes in every color imaginable, they stood soberly, some leaning on the tips of weapons thrust in the sand, others holding them at the ready, awaiting their captain’s command—alert and loaded like a line of cannons on a warship.
Ricu snapped his fingers again, bringing another man with a handkerchief to his side.
A stream of angry Portuguese shot from his mouth as he flung the cloth back at the pirate, who plucked it from the sand and scurried away while another man approached with yet another cloth. This one seemed acceptable as Ricu again wiped his face and neck and tossed the cloth to the ground.
James’s stomach knotted. Bad enough they’d been captured by a pirate, but a mad one?
A seagull squawked overhead as if laughing at the scene. One of the women behind James began to sob.
“They have the maps, Captain. I’m sure of it,” one of the pirates spoke in perfect English before he spat a black glob onto the sand.
“I know, you imbecil!” Ricu snarled at him then faced the colonists with a grin. A silver tooth winked at them in the sun.
A tic twitched in Blake’s jaw.
James fisted his hands at his waist. He’d about reached his limit of this lunacy. “Map or no map, no one here has found any gold. Feel free, Captain, to search our things.” Join Dodd and Patrick in their treasure hunt for all James cared. It would serve the two greedy curs right.
Charging toward James, Ricu pricked James’s throat with his knife. Angeline gasped.
“I am free with or without your permit, senhor! You keep that in head, eh?”
James eyed the man. Yes, he would keep that in his head. Along with how the pirate’s own head was a bit unhinged.
Blake stepped forward. “He meant no insult, Captain, merely that we will make no trouble for you.”
A moan sounded from Dodd’s direction.
Ricu snorted, withdrew his blade, and ran his disinterested gaze over the colonists. “No trouble! Ha!” He tossed his knife in the air. It flipped several times, sun glinting off the metal, before he caught the handle with expert precision. “Search them and their things.” At this, half his crew scattered like cockroaches in sunlight. He stopped before Blake. “You have till sunrise tomorrow, senhor, to give maps to me.”
Blake swallowed as Ricu paced once more before the colonists. His eyes locked on something behind James. Shoving James aside, he grabbed Angeline by the wrist. She squirmed as he dragged her across the sand. James charged him.
A dozen pirates leapt in his path. The smell of sweat and alcohol stung his nose.
Ricu wheeled about and glanced from James to Angeline. “Ah…she be your amante, eh?” He grinned, his gaze landing on Hayden. “Take him.” He snapped his fingers, and two of his men hauled Hayden at sword point from his spot. “I hang him in morning.”
“No!” Magnolia shrieked, reaching for her husband.
“For what?” Blake demanded, his face a knot of fury and fear.
“He stole woman from me, cut my anchor chain. For this he die.”
Tears spilled down Magnolia’s cheeks as she started for Hayden, but Eliza and Blake held her back.
“Can we have the other women?” one of his men asked.
“No!” Ricu snapped, glaring their way, before turning and fingering a strand of Angeline’s hair. She turned away in disgust. “Not before I try all first. Captain’s…how do you say…privilege.” His gaze took in Magnolia then skittered to Eliza, Sarah, and some of the other women as if he were deciding in what order to ravish them.
Every nerve in James’s body ignited. “If you hurt her…” he seethed, nodding toward Angeline. “And if you kill this man, you will never get your precious maps.”
“So, you have maps?” One dark sinister brow rose. “Good. Bring them to me when sun rises and I may not hang this one.”
“And the lady?” Blake said. “You will not touch her.”
Instead of answering, Ricu grinned, a wide grin that reached his eyes in a salacious twinkle before he dragged Angeline away.
C
HAPTER 18
Give us the maps!” James gripped Patrick by the throat. The posh man stumbled backward, clawing at James’s fingers, terror bloating his face.
Strong hands tore James from the villain and pushed him back. “This isn’t the way.” Blake’s look was stern, but his eyes held understanding.
“What is the way with the likes of him?” James caught his breath. Fury pounded blood through his veins as Patrick coughed and gasped and finally rose to his full height, the fear on his face replaced by indignation that only further infuriated James.
“Give them the maps, Martin…Patrick…whoever you are!” Magnolia spat out through sobs. “If there is any decency in you, give them the maps. Hayden is your son!” She hung her head as more tears streamed down her cheeks. Eliza wrapped an arm around her and drew her close, trying to offer comfort that James knew was pointless.
Blake stood his ground between James and the two men who possessed the only things that might save Angeline and Hayden. Running a hand through his hair, James took a step back, uttering a silent prayer for strength not to kill both of them on the spot.
Night had flung a dark curtain over the beach, a heavy curtain that suffocated any remaining hope from the colonists. Hope that had leeched out during a day of watching the pirates scatter their few remaining belongings across the beach and then storm away, angry and spewing threats when they didn’t find anything of value. A palpable terror buzzed through the camp. No one could eat. Few even spoke. And most had retired early for the evening. All except those who, unable to sleep, now sat around a fire.
His gaze sped down the beach where the pirates assembled around another fire, chortling and singing as they passed a bottle of some vile liquor. Two bobbing lanterns marked the location of the ship offshore where all was silent. No drunken ballads, no shouts, no woman’s scream pierced the crash of waves on the sand. He prayed that was a good sign. He prayed the mad pirate was leaving Angeline alone. Perhaps he’d gotten drunk and passed out before he could touch her. The alternative was too horrible to consider. And he’d had nothing but time to consider it during the long afternoon. Only Blake’s level head had kept James from plunging into the waves and swimming to the ship, where he would no doubt be hung alongside Hayden or shot dead as soon as his feet landed on deck. That would do Angeline no good. Though sitting here doing nothing at all was doing her no good either.
“Don’t worry.” Eliza followed his gaze. “We’ll get her back.” She hugged Magnolia. “We’ll get them both back.”
“You don’t know that.” James’s hope, dare he say even his faith, had abandoned him the minute Ricu had dragged Angeline away. The look of terror in her eyes nearly did him in—would have caused his demise if several pirates hadn’t blocked his path. Even then, he’d attempted to storm through them. If Blake hadn’t restrained him, he’d probably be six feet under at the moment.
He could not lose her. Not like this.
“We do know that,” Blake said. “Because we are going to give them what they want.” Turning, he faced Patrick and Dodd with that commanding look of his that must
have sent soldiers scrambling to do his bidding. “Even if I have to tear off every inch of your clothing, piece by piece, I will find those maps.”
“Please!” Magnolia’s misty eyes raised to both men. “How can you be so cruel?” She ran fingers down Stowy’s fur, trying to calm the jittery cat in her lap. “Mercy me, what is a map compared to a human life? Compared to any of our lives?”
Patrick fingered his goatee. “Fools! Do you think if we give them our maps, they will be satisfied? Why, they’ll probably kill us all anyway.”
A gust of wind sent flames leaping into the sky as if in agreement.
James snapped hair from his face and glanced at the armed pirates commanded to patrol the beach lest the colonists try to slip away in the night. “I can’t believe even you would allow your own son to die.” Patrick stared at the fire. “He was as good as dead the second they dragged him away.”
“Don’t you need their map to find this gold?” Eliza grabbed Stowy from Magnolia, trying to calm the agitated cat. “Ricu seems to believe you need all four.”
Patrick eyed Dodd, and a look of understanding passed between them. “Indeed, it could be the reason for our lack of success.”
A howl sounded from the jungle—a wolf’s howl. An icy chill skittered across James’s neck, joining the one in his heart.
“Then you have nothing to lose by giving them your maps,” Blake said. “For all we know there might be no gold at all.”
“There is gold, I assure you.” Dodd nodded with a grin.
James clenched his jaw, trying to restrain his fury. “Have you any idea what Angeline might be suffering right now? Because of your greed!”
Dodd’s expression was oddly remorseful. “The pirate would have taken her anyway. Just as he’ll take the other women eventually.”
A shudder passed over Eliza as she shared a glance with Blake. He slipped his hand in hers.
Patrick clipped thumbs in the lapels of his coat. “We could still plan an escape. Why not wait until they are well into their cups and the guards asleep and then slip into the jungle?”
Abandoned Memories Page 15
