Changing Tides

by Alex Standish

  He ruffled Cody’s curls, not knowing how to comfort the boy, and Cody leaned forward, resting his head on Brett’s shoulder. Brett felt Cody’s whole body begin to shake as realization of what might have happened hit.

  Brett wrapped an arm tightly around Cody’s shoulders. “Shhh, it’s all right. Everything is fine now.”

  “I just… I wanted… to relieve myself…,” Cody sniffled against Brett’s chest. “And Frederick was there, so it was safe, and then we saw what looked like a wild hog, and we got distracted, and the next thing I know, Fred is lying bleeding on the ground and… and….”

  “It’s over, Cody. Except for what will likely be a massive headache for the next few days, I believe that Frederick will be fine in no time,” Brett promised, gently cutting the nearly panicked babble. “They won’t hurt you again. They will never hurt anyone again. I will see to it tomorrow. You will be all right.”

  They remained by the stream for the rest of the night, Cody eventually drifting off into a restless sleep. As he watched Cody fighting the demons in his dreams, Brett hoped that night’s events had not deprived Cody of his most precious possession—his innocence.

  BRETT WOKE up to the feeling of being watched. He opened his eyes to find himself under Cody’s warm hazel gaze. Somehow during the night, they had stretched out on the sand, lying side by side, close enough their arms brushed together.

  “Feel better?” Brett asked gently, making no attempt to move when Cody rested his head on Brett’s chest.

  “Yes. Thank you, Brett. For saving me and… for taking care of me last night.”

  Brett smiled. “You are most welcome. Now, what do you say we go back to camp? The others must be worried.”

  Cody nodded, and they rose from their makeshift bed. Brett had begun to walk back to the other side of the beach, when Cody’s voice stopped him.

  “Brett?”

  He turned to face Cody. “Yes?”

  Cody stepped close and pulled Brett into a brief but surprisingly strong hug. “Thank you,” he said again into Brett’s ear, then ran off to camp, leaving Brett far behind.

  Brett found himself chuckling. Cody was going to be fine; they both were. Now it was time to join his crewmates and see to his captain; their brief respite from the world was over.

  A GOOD wind was blowing from the southwest, the sea was calm, and the Flying Horse advanced without the slightest bit of resistance.

  Everything was ready for the upcoming battle. The cannons and the firelocks were loaded with the greatest of care. Cannonballs were piled onto the deck; carbines, axes, and cutlasses were laid out, and the grappling hooks were placed on the bulwarks, ready to be hurled at the enemy vessel.

  All preparations complete, they began yet another day scanning the sea, some from the ratlines, some from the bulwarks, all anxious to spot the Courage. It seemed Devon’s anxiety and restlessness had spread throughout the ship.

  He walked nervously from bow to stern, continually scanning the vast stretch of water, gripping the golden hilt of his sword tightly, ignoring his crew’s glances. They had been searching for the Courage for two weeks and had yet to sight the British cruiser.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about Brett; how would Brett be faring after a month and a half in the galleys? Devon wanted to storm the seas, board the Courage, and rescue Brett, but until they actually saw the cruiser, there was nothing he could do. And helplessness was not a feeling he was accustomed to.

  Then suddenly, a few minutes after midday, someone shouted from atop the mainmast.

  “Ship to leeward!”

  Devon stopped pacing and grinned. “Battle stations!” he commanded, watching all the seamen who had been hanging from the mast take cover and go to their assigned stations. “John,” he shouted, turning to the man stationed on the mainmast. “What do you see?”

  “A sail, Captain,” John replied from above.

  “Is it our target?”

  “It’s the sail of a cruiser, but I can’t see the name yet. We need to get closer,” John told him.

  “Damn…. Where the hell is that ship?” Devon said with a frown. “Very well. Elijah, move us closer. Even if it is not the Courage, we can always use the practice.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” Elijah said with a grin.

  Half an hour passed, during which their ship gained five knots on their prey, and then John shouted once more, the excitement clear in his tone. “Captain, it is the Courage! They have seen us and are trying to get away.”

  “Ah, finally,” Devon practically leered. “Elijah, give chase. Don’t let them escape.”

  “Consider it done, Captain,” Elijah said, capable hands steering the helm.

  Another forty-five minutes and they were close enough to see the frenzy on the enemy vessel’s decks. They were obviously preparing for battle as well, each sailor going about their duties.

  Devon narrowed his eyes, then looked down at his faithful crew. “Men, remember! Aim high. I don’t want the galleys to be destroyed by a loose cannonball. And no more bloodshed than necessary. Take as many prisoners as possible. Now… attack!”

  A wild cry arose from the crew of the pirate ship at the shouted command. Some men rushed to the cannons on the bow, while others aimed their pistols and armed their carbines.

  Suddenly a shot rang out from the cruiser, and a small-caliber cannonball whistled through their ship’s sails. Devon glared at the British vessel. “Well, well, well, the mouse wants to play…. Men, show them how it’s done.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  One of the men bent over his cannon and fired. The effect was immediate; the cruiser’s mainmast split at its base, oscillated violently back and forth, then crashed down onto the deck, dragging down sails and rigging. Devon watched as men ran chaotically along the bulwarks of the vessel, trying to escape the wreckage.

  “Good shot, my friend,” Devon praised. “Let’s teach these sailorboys how to fight!”

  They resumed their attack, showering the cruiser with cannonballs, destroying its foremast, smashing its bulwarks and frame. Deadly projectiles sliced through its rigging, killing a few of the sailors who were desperately trying to defend the ship with nothing but their pistols.

  They continued to advance until they were side by side with the cruiser, flanking it on the left. They hurled the grappling hooks at the enemy vessel, bonding the two ships together with an iron grip.

  “Attack!” Devon shouted again, following his crew as they sprang on board the Courage, guns held high and aimed at the many seamen still trying to resist.

  Ten or twelve pirates, who had been hanging from the riggings like monkeys, jumped over the bulwarks and landed on deck, surrounding the remaining crew of the cruiser.

  “Surrender!” Devon shouted at the few rebellious fighters.

  The men who were still brawling with the pirates, faced with the prospect of fending off a second attack, threw down their arms.

  “Who is the captain?” Devon asked.

  “I am,” replied someone on his right, and Devon watched as a man in his sixties, standing tall and proud, approached him, sword laid down in both his hands. He handed it over to Devon. “The Courage is yours, sir.”

  “Thank you, Captain, but there is only one thing I need from you.”

  “Yes, and did you really have to cause such massive destruction to get it?” a new voice asked, and Devon turned to see Brett walking up to him, a slight smile grazing his lips. “Captain Hall,” he greeted, bowing slightly.

  To Devon’s surprise, the captain of the British cruiser chuckled softly. “My good man, had you told me who you were and what you came for, we could have saved all this drama. I am perfectly content to release my cabin boy to you.”

  “Cabin boy?” Elijah said, blinking in surprise.

  “Long story,” Brett replied. “Suffice to say, Captain Perry decided I did not belong in the galleys.”

  “What now?” Perry asked. “The Courage is obviously beyond salvaging.”
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  “Well, uh, we could take you and your men back to Jamaica, drop you off close to Port Royal. It’s the least I could do,” Devon offered, slightly shamefaced.

  Perry chuckled again. “Don’t look so forlorn, Captain. As one of the Crown’s men, I am under sworn duty to fight all piracy. Even knowing who you were and what you wanted, battle was inevitable. However, I do accept your kind offer.” He turned to his second-in-command. “Mr. Gallagher, see to it that all the prisoners in the galleys are released and taken to Captain Hall’s vessel. The rest of you, follow the captain’s men back to his ship.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Half an hour later, having abandoned the now dismasted and battered cruiser, they sailed back toward Jamaica. The seamen and former galley prisoners were being moved to the lower deck, while a cabin was provided for Captain Perry for the remainder of the journey.

  Brett smiled at Devon and Elijah. “So we meet again,” he said softly. “Elijah, how are you?”

  “Fine, thanks to you. We heard what happened on the plantation,” Elijah told him grimly.

  Brett’s green eyes darkened with rage. “Yes. Well, maybe one day someone will take over and rebuild it,” he said, taking a deep breath, then looking around.

  “Looking for someone?” Devon asked with a frown. He didn’t like the idea of Brett having found some better company.

  “Yes. One of the…. Ah, Cody!” he called out, and a young man rushed to join them.

  “Brett! Are you all right? I lost sight of you during the shooting!”

  “I’m fine, Cody. And yourself?”

  Cody grinned widely, practically jumping up and down. “I’m fine, Brett. That certainly was some battle, wasn’t it?”

  Brett laughed. “It sure was. Gentlemen, this is my little hog, Cody Sullivan,” Brett introduced, ignoring Cody’s sputtering at the appellation. “Would it be possible for him to join us?” he asked, turning to Devon.

  Devon tried to curb his jealousy at the thought of Brett wanting to keep this… boy with him. “He seems a little too young to have that much experience, Brett. Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” Brett said.

  “I am old enough,” Cody said, sounding offended.

  Against his will, Devon found his lips twisting. “And how old is that?”

  “Seventeen,” he said, chin lifted in challenge.

  Devon shook his head; the boy certainly had guts. “In that case, welcome aboard, Cody,” he said, shaking his hand.

  Brett grinned. “Cody, your exciting adventure on the vast ocean is about to begin. The gentleman you just shook hands with is none other than Captain Hall himself.”

  Cody gasped, blinking rapidly, his mouth opening and closing without a word. He took a step back, two steps, a third, proceeded to trip over a large coil of rope, tumbled over it, and fell to the floor. Everyone chuckled, and then obviously taking pity on the sullen young man, Elijah helped him up.

  “Come on, child, let me show you around the ship. The captain needs to have a quiet word with Brett.”

  The crew walked away, leaving Devon and Brett alone, standing face-to-face on the bridge. After an awkward moment in which they simply regarded each other silently, Devon finally took the lead.

  “Did I do that?” he asked, gently touching Brett’s bruised cheek and split lip.

  “You?” Brett frowned in confusion.

  “The attack,” Devon said as a way of explanation.

  “Ah. No, I was not harmed during the attack. Cody and I had an… unwelcome encounter with some miscreants last night while ashore on a small island. They managed to do some damage before they were caught.”

  “What happened to them?” Devon growled angrily.

  “They were taken to the Courage this morning before we set sail. Unfortunately they were close to the mast when you first fired. They met their demise at your hands, Captain Hall.”

  Devon grinned wolfishly. “Good.” He cleared his throat hesitantly. “When you asked if Cody could join us…. Does that mean you are staying?”

  “If that is your wish,” Brett replied enigmatically.

  “I want you to stay by my side, yes. But what do you want, Brett?”

  “I want to stay as well,” Brett said, voice low and intense.

  Devon smiled back. “I’m glad. Come, I’ll take you to your quarters. I have asked a crewman to prepare the cabin next to mine. He should also have supplied some clothes. There is not much choice, I’m afraid, but I’m sure he will find something that fits.”

  Brett nodded. “That will be fine, thank you.”

  “Come.”

  Devon showed Brett to his cabin, a large room at the stern of the ship. Windows surrounded most of the back wall, presenting a marvelous view of the calm sea. There was a large bed, a square table with a couple of chairs, a bookshelf, and a huge chest for Brett’s garments.

  “As you can see, there are some clothes on the bed. We should reach Jamaica by tomorrow night. We can get you something then,” Devon told him. “I’ll leave you to change. Join me on the bridge when you are done.”

  “I will,” Brett said, shedding his shirt.

  Devon allowed his eyes to travel over Brett’s smooth chest, watching as Brett flushed slightly, a shudder running through him as he obviously noticed Devon’s gaze on him.

  Devon practically rushed out of the cabin and closed the door on temptation. The circumstances conspiring to bring him and Brett together had been strange to say the least, without having to add his confused emotions to the mixture. It was best to let sleeping demons lie.

  THE NEXT night, as promised, Devon allowed Captain Perry and his crew to go free. They disembarked on the beach close to Port Royal, under the darkness provided by a moonless sky. It took several trips to take every man ashore, Captain Perry being the last one to set foot on solid ground.

  “Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure,” Perry told Devon and Brett, who had accompanied him to the island. “It is a shame we had to meet under such terrible circumstances, but I look forward to our next meeting. And, Mr. Campbell, remember; your uncle will not be able to stay on his self-appointed throne for much longer. One day you and your friends will be able to claim your right to freedom and avenge the injustices that have fallen upon you.”

  Brett shook Perry’s hand. “I shall look forward to that day, Captain. And to seeing you again. Please take care. My uncle will be furious when he finds out I escaped and have joined his greatest enemy.”

  Perry chuckled. “In that case, I will take great pleasure in telling him myself. It will be a memory to treasure once I retire. Well, time to go. We have a lot of ground to cover. Gentlemen, farewell.”

  Devon and Brett watched him venture into the night, guiding his men toward civilization. “He is a remarkable man,” Brett said quietly. “I owe him so very much. I don’t know if I will ever be able to repay him.”

  “If you owe him, then so do I. If he ever needs help in any way, he will have me and my men to stand by his side,” Devon promised. “Come, we better head back before a patrol finds us.”

  Brett glanced back one last time, hoping he would get the chance to see Captain Perry again. His life seemed to be turning into a whirlpool of unforeseeable events that he was powerless to control. Any help he could gather for the future was more than welcome.

  THE NEXT morning, they set anchor in Tortuga, away from the few ships bobbing in the harbor. Brett watched the buzzing town from the ship’s bridge, wondering if Captain Perry had arrived safely at Port Royal.

  “He will be fine,” Devon assured from behind, and Brett turned to face him. “By this time he has spoken to your uncle and is safely back home. He is probably enjoying his precious memory of a furious Governor Campbell as we speak.” They both chuckled at that. “Brett?”

  Brett narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Devon’s demure tone. “Yes, Captain Hall?”

  “I want you to stay aboard the ship.”

  “What?” Brett exclaimed. “But
—”

  “Brett, please,” Devon said softly. “It is too dangerous for you to be seen in town at the moment. Tortuga is full of your uncle’s spies, not to mention dozens of cutthroat reprobates who would sell you out for a few gold coins. You will be safer here.”

  They remained silent for a long moment, eyes locked in a battle of wills, until finally Brett exhaled sharply. “I don’t like it, Devon,” he said. “But I understand. Very well, I’ll stay. But don’t expect me to be so agreeable to your wishes next time,” he added with a grin.

  Devon chuckled. “I consider myself duly warned. I promise we will not take long. We will meet with Jasper, buy the map, and return. I allowed most of the crew to go ashore. They deserve a little free time after yesterday’s battle. But I’m leaving five men behind to watch over the ship. If you need anything, they will see to it.”

  Brett nodded. “I doubt they will be needed, but thank you. I’ll go back to my cabin and read while I wait for your return. Be careful?” he pleaded in a low tone.

  Devon brushed a hand over his face gently. “Always. We will not be long. Two hours at most.”

  “Just be sure to bring that treasure map with you. I promised Cody an adventure,” Brett said with a quip.

  “And he shall have it. See you in a few hours, Brett.”

  “Safe journey, Captain.”

  Brett stood on the deck, watching Devon talk with the men, Cody and Elijah among them, and couldn’t help but admire Devon’s striking figure. Devon was dressed all in black, highlighting his blond hair. The linen shirt showed off Devon’s chest quite nicely, and the worn black leather coat secured with drawstring and eyelets fit like a glove. His trousers molded long, muscled legs, and the knee boots practically shone in the sunlight. He was wearing a black leather baldric with metal fittings for both his sword and pistol.

  Devon turned back to look at Brett, and Brett felt his gut tightening at the heat and promise in those eyes. Brett nodded slightly, showing his readiness to face whatever this was between them when the time came.