Gunpowder & Gold (Justified Treason, Book 4): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories

by Cristi Taijeron

  Flynn and I looked at each other. I could tell by his expression that we felt the same. Doubtful.

  “I don’t know, mate.” Flynn stroked his beard. “How do we know she isn’t saying all this shit to set us up for death.”

  Letting my mind replay the day’s events, then flash over all the things I knew about the Spanish, I let out a long exhale. “The story about the gold is realistic and lines up entirely with the way she fought to protect the book—especially knowing those secrets belonged to her lover. But now, her lover has been killed, her crew is under our control, and her book is in our hands. It makes sense that she would seek survival under our power, and she has to be smart enough to know that our death would be her death.”

  Peering at the remaining pieces of the torn page—as if hoping to find a clue—Reid said, “All good points, Bentley. There is much to discuss, but I certainly believe it is worth looking into. Let’s start by digging through this cabin to see if we can find any other helpful clues.”

  Tapping his fingers on the table, Flynn asked, “What the hell are we going to do with the Spanish survivors? Some of them might know about this and if we send them adrift they could be found and spread the word. But if we keep them, they could use their knowledge about the gold to breed dissension among our men. For as far as I’m concerned, our men don’t need to know about this possible hunt until we learn more about it ourselves.”

  “You are right.” Reid twisted his mustache. “I keep hearing my demons chanting about how dead men tell no tales, but…I’ve put myself in danger too many times to avoid murdering surrendered men. There has to be another way.”

  My mind lit up. “You know, my father used to say, It takes more tact and makes a better man to silence a man without killing him. Considering that, I think my knowledge of these seas will offer just the solution for us.”

  They both looked at me with curious eyes.

  “Maroon them. There’s an island not far from here, too small for anyone to give a shit about stopping there, but big enough that they might have a chance to survive if they’re man enough. Gives them hope and bides us time. We can sway the men’s votes for the notion by putting all the focus on the value of our hostage. Ridding ourselves of the witnesses, we will be able to take our time spending our gold with the promise to refill our pockets as soon as they are empty. She’ll be like a savings account we can cash in at our leisure.”

  “It’s worth a shot.” Reid raised his glass. “You are both good men to work with. In fact, you remind me a bit of Mason Bentley and myself. Only we were tougher and better with the ladies. But you are off to a good start. Here is to our good fortune.”

  X

  Watching the sun set low behind the island we voted to maroon the Spaniards on, I let out a breath of relief. During our stealthy interrogation of the surrendered, we’d learned that the tales of gold were true, and we were able to get those dogs out of our way without a word spreading to our men. Aye, what was worth dying for, was worth lying for. Though I understood the need for secrecy among our crew, I didn't like having to keep the truth from Charlie.

  As she followed me to my cabin, swaying happily while slurring a jolly shanty, I contemplated telling her what our plans truly were. But I couldn’t. I swore to my mates I wouldn’t tell a soul. Hell, even if I wanted to break that trust, Charlie was once again too drunk to risk raising a controversy with. She’d been drinking nearly non-stop since we sailed away from that battle, and though she had been keeping up with her jobs and seemed to be enjoying herself, she didn’t normally drink this much.

  Shutting the door behind her, she surprised me with a pathetic whimper, “I didn’t like that, Sterling.”

  “I didn’t like it either, but it had to be done,” I said as I sat down and poured myself a glass of rum.

  “Oh, I was talking about saying goodbye to Mary. I know she and Flynn have business to tend to in Port Royal but I am going to miss her terribly.” She chugged from her flask and sat down across from me. “As for the marooning, I didn’t like that, either. I understand why it had to be done, I do, but it just didn’t feel right.”

  Liking the way the candlelight reflected in her hazel eyes, but hating the way the horrific wound on her pretty cheek was sloppily stitched, my mind was struck with a strong vision of her standing on her veranda the night we’d met. Thinking of how pretty she looked dressed up nice, and remembering how sweet and dainty she was back then, I was looking forward to getting her back to that way of living. “You know what would feel right?”

  “What’s that?” She squinted at me playfully.

  I took her hands in mine. “You just being my wife again.”

  Looking confused, she kinked her head to the side.

  Squeezing tight to her hands, I explained what I’d meant. “You’re good at what you do here, sweetheart, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for my crew—our crew—but we got what we came for and now I’m going to find a way to get you what you’ve wanted all along. A peaceful home.”

  She smiled sloppily. “Oh, that sounds so wonderful. I truly did love that little house we lived in and I was just starting to get good at cooking. Well, not good, but better.”

  “You cooked good enough to make me fat.” I patted my abdomen that had already shed the weight she had put on me.

  “I think I have picked up what you lost.” She giggled as she poked her belly, then sighed, “Oh, Sterling, I want to have that life again more than anything, but after killing that nobleman I lost sight of it. You are still wanted by the law—alive at least—but me, hell, if they find out what I did they will hang me. So I just figured we’d end up living this way until we die. Short and merry as they say.”

  Flashing a mischievous grin, I teased, “We can do that if’n you’d rather.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I’m tired of all this death and violence. But the sad part is, I just don’t see another way. And that is why I am drunk.”

  Looking deep in her pretty eyes, I assured her, “I will find a way to get you what I promised you, Charlie. No matter what it takes. But with all the hell we’ve cast upon the world, Tortuga is our only option for now. We’ll go there to fix our ship, and when Flynn comes back he’ll let us know what’s going on about us in Jamaica. We’ll reassess our future from there.”

  “I suppose that will have to do.” She blew her hair out of her face. “And with all that gold we’re hauling in, I reckon we’re going to have a hell of a time in that shitty little town.”

  PART V

  Where Your Treasure Is

  Chapter 13

  As You Wish

  As Told By Sterling Bentley

  Still wet from the rain, filthy from the war, and wobbling on our sea legs, Charlie and I walked through the streets of Tortuga like we owned the place. We’d taken the prize many men had dreamed of and had returned with more gold than half of them had ever seen. Men were asking questions about the fight, wenches were hanging on us hoping to get a piece of the prize, and the merchants at the market were wailing at us like beggars, “New coat? Fancy hat! Shiny shoes…”

  Charlie’s eyes lit up for every offer, but I knew she preferred to do all of her shopping at Mister Bernard’s French Quarter. She’d spent the last three days at sea chattering on about all the new clothes she wanted to buy the moment we arrived, and now, here we were, in front of the red and gold paisley printed tent where she was attempting to pull me through the open flap.

  I stopped in my tracks. “I don’t want to go shopping.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “But you look like hell and smell like shit. Don’t you want new clothes to put on after we take a bath?”

  “Of course I do, but you’re better at all that shopping business. How about you deal with all that, and I’ll go make sure there’s a room ready for us at the inn. I can also order some wenches to fill said bath for us.” I flashed a cheeky grin.

  Planting her hand on her hip, she winced suspiciously. “So, yo
u’re suggesting to me—your wife—that it would be best for you to go to the inn and have half-dressed whores fill a tub of hot water for you while I am nowhere in sight?”

  “I didn’t think of it that way, but now that you mention it…” I stroked my goatee, pretending to fantasize about the favorable outcomes of such an arrangement.

  She playfully shoved my shoulder. “Anything would be better than listening to you complain while I want to take my time shopping. Just be sure we get the best room in the house. Also, have those wenches burn some incense and light some candles around the tub.”

  Relieved to be released from the French Quarter, I took my time walking to The Devil’s Dungeon.

  Along the way I stopped to talk with people I knew, telling stories, smoking cigarros, and even arm wrestling someone. Eventually I realized I’d better hurry along. Chances were, Charlie was going to buy everything she saw, and she was going to need a place to put it all.

  Upon my entrance at the tavern, I was swarmed by a bevy of wenches. “Did you get the gold? I hear you’re as rich as a king. I’ll treat you like a king…” They patted and purred, and kissed my cheeks, each one painting colorful pictures as to why I should choose her to be my lady of the night. Damn. There was no denying how I enjoyed the attention—and naturally, I imagined taking all of them to my room at once like I would have a few years ago—but of course, I told them I wasn’t in need of their services.

  They all booed in disappointment, and a few even threw out last minute offers to please my wife as well.

  While swatting them off of me, I saw Shannyn Barlow pushing through the crowd. Grabbing my arm, she pulled me out of the hive and whispered, “Did you get it?”

  I answered her question with a boastful grin.

  Jumping with joy, she threw her arms around my neck. “Congratulations, Sterling. I’m so happy for you.”

  Remembering what had happened the last time this girl had her hands on me, I quickly stepped out of her embrace. “I’m happy, too. Where’s your father?”

  She pouted dramatically. “Aw, I thought you came to see me.”

  Though I thought of a few far more playful things to say, I stayed the course. “Is he here?”

  “He’s out on a hunt. But I can help you with whatever you need.”

  “All right. I want to rent the suite.”

  “Someone’s in that room.”

  “Not anymore.” I handed her a purse so heavy her hand dropped when she took hold of it.

  Peaking inside the leather pouch, she quickly changed her tune. “Give me two hours to have it cleared and cleaned for you.”

  “Thanks. I also need a bath filled. Oh, and Black Rose wants candles and incense lit all around it.”

  “At your service, Mister Bentley.” She pinched my cheek, but before she walked away her expression grew serious. “Once you’re clean and rested I have some family business to discuss with you.”

  Not at all interested in dealing with any family business yet, I said, “Unless someone died, I don’t want to hear about it till morning.”

  Her face twisted in the most peculiar way. “No one died. We’ll just talk in the morning.”

  “All right. Thanks for the help, sweetheart.”

  Once she was on her way, I looked around to see where I wanted to sit for the many drinks I was about to order. Hearing someone call my name, I looked down the bar to see Toby waving at me. Liking that kid as I did, I was more than happy to join him. Plus, he already had a full pitcher of ale.

  Sitting on the barstool next to him, I tipped my hat at him then took it off.

  Filling me a mug, Toby smiled. “I like being rich.”

  “I like it, too. It’s been so long since I’ve had a load like this I’ve almost forgotten how to spend it.” I took a chug. “What do you have planned for your newfound wealth?”

  “You’re looking at it.” He fanned his hands around the room. “You know me and my pa have nowhere else to go, so we may as well stay here where we are accepted. Unless of course, you and Black Rose want to hire us at that inn you’re going to open in France.”

  “Ah, I know she wants to open that inn, but I told her I’m not going to France.” I took a drink and drifted off into thoughts about this big idea of hers. She told me she wanted to call the place The World Traveler and planned to decorate the rooms after the fashions of different countries. It was a nice idea, and in time I’d like to see her bring it to life, but not in goddamn France.

  While wondering how I would make her dream come true on English soil, I heard Toby say, “I told her me and my pa would come along and work for her if she’d let us. I truly like you two. No one has ever treated us this good. In fact, I’ve even noticed him lightening up a bit.” He nodded towards Edward, who was sitting on a bench next to a guitar player. Edward—though still quiet as could be—was nodding his head along with the tune, which was the most fun I’d yet to see the cranky ol’ dog have.

  Smiling at the sight, I said to Toby, “I’m glad you like it under the black. It’s folks like you who put the heart behind our fight. Some of them just want a piece of gold, but the ones who want the gold to set them free, those are the ones who make our brotherhood strong enough to stand as a nation of its own.”

  “Aye. I thought I had it all right at the mansion I worked at. I mean, I wasn’t getting whipped on and I ate well enough, but now that I know what it is to truly be free and to have a voice that matters, I can’t imagine ever going back under a rich man’s command.”

  Drink after drink, we talked about why we liked living this way, and shared our plans for our gold. Once we guzzled our pitcher down, I waved the barmaid over to get us some more, a lot more.

  After I paid her for the pitcher and told her that’s all I wanted, a lad no older than thirteen—wearing two baldrics crossed over his chest—came to the bar alongside me.

  “Excuse me, sir.” He winked at me as he shoved himself against the counter, then shouted at the barmaid, “Come on over here, wench. I be needing an ale.”

  “Didn’t you get enough milk from your mother’s tits this morning, youngling?” the wench laughed.

  To my great amusement, the little bloke pulled a hefty gold piece out of his pocket and said, “I reckon I can suck on whatever titties I want to, and if’n you’re lucky, it might be yours next.”

  Holding back my laughter, I watched the wench’s expression change from sassy to sultry. With her gaze locked on the gold piece, she rubbed on the lad’s arm. “How about I bring you a pitcher of your own?”

  “That would be as dandy as your pretty smile.” He winked.

  When she went off to get his order I let my laughter go. “Well done, mate.” I patted his back and asked him his name. I wanted to remember this little fella.

  “William Morgan. Born in Wales, raised in Port Royal, and I reckon if you know a thing about a thing, you’ll know my uncle Henry Morgan.”

  “Henry Morgan? The buccaneer?” I about spit out my drink.

  “Aye.” William nodded, proud as could be.

  “So where’s your uncle now? I’ve always wanted to meet the man.”

  “He’s around here somewhere, but I’m not his keeper.” After paying the wench for his pitcher, he snapped at her to pour him a glass. “I’ve been sailing with my uncle for a few years now. He took me to sea to get me out of the trouble I’d caused ashore.”

  “Ah, but you seem a wee bit sweet to be causing any kind of trouble.” I chuckled, feeling like the old men who used to tamper with me when I was but a laddie following my father around at the taverns.

  Not amused, William puffed up his chest. “Killed my first man at the wee age of nine. Defending the honor of my young mother, I was.”

  Happy to let him stake his claim on manhood, I raised my mug to meet his. “Well done. If I had a mother I’d have done the same. Now, I heard about your uncle’s successful run to Portobello. Were you in on that?”

  “Aye. Bloody wicked, it was. I’ve neve
r laid eyes on so much terror, or so much gold in all my thirteen years.” He went on to explain all the gory details which were familiar to me, but my mind lit up with intrigue when he made mention of the slave revolt and prison break inspired by the power of the buccaneers. “Those bastards busted out of the walls like a herd of cattle stampeding their drivers. Hell, some were even using the chains that once held them down as weapons against the men who held the keys. It was almost like they had been waiting for this day. Like they knew we were coming. But whatever their driving force, their power helped build ours, and my uncle took every one of those battered survivors back to Port Royal when we left with our gold.”

  Looking at Toby, I nodded to reference the talk we’d just had.

  Finishing his glass, young Morgan said, “I have to be going but I never asked your name.”

  I stuck out my hand for a late, but proper introduction. “Sterling Bentley. Captain of the Wicked Rose.”

  “Bentley, aye? I heard you’re married to that Black Rose.”

  Rolling my head back, I grumbled, “That woman is more notorious than I am these days.”

  “She’s prettier than you, too. I saw that drawing you did of her. Slurp me up and piss me out, she’s one saucy wench, mate. Get an extra buck in for me, tonight, would you?” He slapped me on the back. “Best of the plunder to you!”

  As he walked out of the door, I said to Toby, “Now, don’t he make us look like gentlemen?”

  Just then, Charlie came in. Meeting me at the bar, she wrapped her arms around my waist. “I bought one of everything, two of some things, and six of a few others. The load will be delivered just after five.”

  “Perfect, because the room and the bath will be ready around the same time.” I kissed her cheek.

  Pulling a deck of cards out of her pocket, she said, “How about we play a few games while we wait?”

  “I’m not playing.” I shook my head.

  Toby eyed the deck with interest. “I’ve never played before but if you teach me some games I’ll be happy to join you.”