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

by Cristi Taijeron

  Above all else, I knew I had to tell her the truth about what I had found on Mariposa so we could judge all the unpleasant variables and make the best decision together. But for now, shaved and clean, I just wanted to take a nap. All that arguing and thinking had worn me out, and while I was still free to do whatever the hell I pleased, whenever the hell I pleased, I flopped down on the bed and closed my eyes.

  Awaking much later than I thought I would have, I found myself covered in sweat and annoyed by the afternoon sunlight beaming on my face. Forcing my sweat covered head off the drool ridden pillow, I rose to my feet and walked towards the window. Peeking out, I saw that the town looked calm enough, and though Charlie was nowhere in sight, I had learned not to worry about her so much. She was nearly as tough, and as feared as I was these days. Plus, she had more friends who sincerely cared about her than I’d ever had.

  After opening every window to catch most of the breeze, and shutting the curtains on the window facing the beating sun, I headed for my wooden chest. I had planned to get my journal out and either write or draw to amuse myself, but when I pulled it out, the item beneath it caught my interest. My father’s journal. I kept it locked away in the same compartment I kept mine in, and I hadn’t as much as glanced at either of our books since we came ashore, but at this moment I found myself enchanted by the words he had inscribed on the cover:

  King Of My Nightmare

  Though his young life was fraught with tragedy and he was forced out into the world alone at a mere fourteen years old, he not only survived the harsh odds, but took reign of his dreadful surroundings and carried himself like a king in the nightmare of a life he lived. Thinking back on how childish my mind was at fourteen, and how much I depended on him throughout my younger years, I once again thought of how much stronger he was than me. He had endured so many harsh blows on his own, and then guided and protected me so well that I never had to do the things he did to survive. He was one hell of a man, certainly worthy of the king-like stature he had earned among buccaneers, and I would carry his name with pride forevermore.

  With all these thoughts running through my mind, and knowing that I had his written words here beneath my palm, I considered opening the book. Maybe the answers to these problems I was having with my woman would come out in his words. He obviously knew more about life and love than he ever shared with me.

  No. I couldn’t. And the more I thought about the way he had betrayed me with his Midnight-like secrets, the less I wanted anything to do with his book of life. It was bad enough that I now had to worry about Remington—who I should probably go check on sooner or later—I sure as shit didn’t want to find that I had other siblings to tend to around the world. And I certainly didn’t want to feel obligated to tie up any of his other loose ends that might reveal themselves in his written words. He may have been a king of his nightmare, but at this point it seemed that even the mighty Mason Bentley didn’t know what the hell to do when it came to women.

  Leaving his book where it was, I closed the chest and headed for the table with my journal in hand. Sitting down, I lit a candle and opened to a blank page. I’d solve these problems I was having with my wife on my own, and if we ever did have children, I would be damn sure to tell them the shit they needed to know about this kind of nonsense.

  Just as I dipped my quill in the inkwell, I heard a female voice on the other side of the door. Figuring it was Charlie, I didn’t bother to grab a weapon, or a shirt, but opening the door to see Shannyn Barlow, I wished I would have put a shirt on, especially when she eyed me over like she wanted to lick me up.

  Thinking of how Charlie would react to that expression, I growled just as rudely as she would have, “What do you want?”

  Wearing a silky blue dress, with her hair done up nice, Shannyn flashed me with a cute little smile that melted right through the ice wall I attempted to throw up between us. “Oh, uh, I have something important to tell you.” She peeked over my shoulder. “Can I come in?”

  “Eh, Black Rose will turn that dress from pretty to bloody if’n she catches us alone together.”

  Shannyn rolled her eyes. “Oh, bother, Sterling. I never imagined you to be the type to cower to a woman’s command. And I just saw her elbows deep in a pile of shoes at Mister Bernard’s place anyhow, so we have plenty of time.”

  Unsure if I was offended by her statement, but certain she was up to no good, I went to shut the door. She stuck her hand out to stop it. “It’s about your father, Sterling. Please, let me in.”

  “What do you know about my father?” Remembering how she had said she had family business to discuss with me, I felt my rested body tense up.

  Pointing inside, she smirked, signifying that she would not share the news unless I let her in.

  So I let her in.

  Taking a seat at the table, I invited her to join me, then asked, “So what is it? What do you know?”

  Sitting in the chair next to mine, she said, “Well, you’re not going to believe this, but, well…Oh, how can I say it?”

  “Just spit it out already, woman.” I rushed her along.

  She took a deep breath. “Your father is alive, Sterling. He was here. He walked in the door, living and breathing. I saw him with these eyes of mine. I held him with these arms I’ve got. And his big, strong arms pulled me against his chest where I felt his heart beating on this here cheek. Mason Bentley is alive.”

  Stunned breathless, I looked at her like she was talking crazy, but her expression was sure as could be. Letting my mind replay all the odd and annoying things I had recently heard about him, I felt a strange mix of hope and sickness swirling in my gut. Could it be true? Unlike One-Eye Eli, Shannyn wasn’t a blathering ol’ drunkard. Unlike Remington, she wasn’t the lying, sneaking daughter of Midnight. And unlike me, she had tears in her eyes.

  Taking my hand, she sniffled, “I know it’s hard to accept, but I wouldn’t make this up. It’s true and I need you to believe me.”

  Jerking my hand out of her grip, I hissed, “Why the hell did you wait until now to tell me this?”

  Twiddling her fingers, she whimpered, “I have been dying to tell you, but well, you didn’t want to be bothered the day you arrived, and Black Rose acts like she wants to cut my head off every time I come near you. So I’ve been waiting to get you alone.”

  Growing more annoyed with every word she spoke, I stood up. “This is more important than her senseless jealousy, and you of all people should know that!”

  She lowered her head like she was in trouble.

  Grabbing a bottle of rum, I turned my back on her and started pacing like a madman. What if it was true? What the hell would that mean to me at this point in my life? Five years had passed since the day he supposedly died, and I’ve made it on my own just fine since then…

  Realizing that Shannyn might have answers to the nattering questions plaguing my irritated mind, I asked her, “So, if he is alive—which I still don’t believe he is— what made him decide to show up all of a sudden? What the hell did he come here for?”

  “He was looking for you and Remington. She had already left when he arrived, and I told him where you were—”

  “And where is he now?” I interrupted.

  Shannyn meekly responded, “He went after Remington.”

  “Of course he did.” I stopped in my tracks. “So where the hell has he been all this time?”

  Pacing the room, chugging on my bottle of rum, I listened to her babble about all the bullshit Remington had already told me. As she went on, it became quite apparent that Mason Bentley had indeed survived his stab wound, was in fact dragged into the jungle by a pickpocketing savage named Manimal, and had lived out the last few years trapped in the jungle, and the arms of a pretty young witch woman.

  Finishing off my bottle, and realizing how drunk I had become, I belched and then laughed, “Well how about that, eh? Maybe one day some of my Panamanian sisters will come sneaking on my ship.”

  She giggled at my com
ment, then pulled a piece of plum silk out of her purse and handed it to me. “He didn’t say anything about more children, but he did say to give you this if you doubted me.”

  Unwrapping the fabric, I laid eyes on a familiar feather. Hannah’s feather—or should I say, Midnight’s quill.

  This very piece was in my father’s pocket when I had thought he died. The fact that Remington had his journal and now Shannyn had his prized possession, made it hard for me to continue in denial, but I still wanted to be mad. Mad that Reid chased me away from my father when he needed me, and mad that I was weak enough to stand down to his blade. I was angry about all the pain and heartache I’d been repressing over the loss that never truly happened, and now that he was supposedly on his way to find me, I was upset that I was angry about the news that I should be happy about.

  Lowering my face into my hands, I took a few deep breaths and thought this over. It made sense. All of it. But it was still too risky to jump for joy over the matter. Though I still refused to get excited about the tale I wanted so much to believe since I first heard about it from that ol’ drunkard, I was finally ready to accept it as truth. Sitting back in my chair, I laughed, “Well, looks like I’m no longer a lonely little orphan boy.”

  Shannyn flashed a bright smile. “No, you’re not. You have a wonderful father, a pain in the arse sister, and a crazy mother.”

  I scratched my head. “And a wife. She’s going to love to hear this shit.”

  Shannyn frowned. “You aren’t supposed to tell anyone, Sterling. Mason didn’t want anyone knowing he’s alive. I don’t know what he’s up to, but it sounded important, and dangerous.”

  “Ah, I trust Charlie more than anyone in the world and I tell her everything.” Thinking about the one thing I had not told her, and considering the consequences of the unveiling, I felt my face scrunch up.

  Shannyn poked my nose. “Your doubtful expression is adorable.”

  Playfully swatting her away, I chuckled, “I’m not doubting anything. I’m just confused about something. But I’ll figure that out later. So, how the hell did the old dog get here? Who was he sailing with?”

  Her lips lifted into a mischievous grin. “He stole Lloyd Wilshire’s Faithful, and of course, he is the captain of the small handed crew he built.”

  “Ha!” I slapped the table, then opened another bottle of rum. “I can’t wait to pat him on the back for that.”

  “Aye. He said he specifically chose Faithful to spite the ol’ coxcomb for taking Hannah from him. But now that he knows what Lloyd did to Remi and that he has a hunter after you, I reckon he’ll be tampering with a lot more than just his ship.”

  “What the hell did Lloyd do to Remington?”

  Looking like she realized she had said too much, Shannyn took a deep breath. “What do all rich men do with their female property?”

  I didn’t like Remington one bit, but thinking of that rich ol’ hog making a play thing out of Mason Bentley’s daughter was certainly a deed I would help my father to avenge. Thinking back on what a great team he and I made, I started imagining the glorious revenge we could plot against Lord Lloyd Wilshire. Knowing Remington would be with Mason, and that Hannah was most likely still with Lloyd, added intrigue to the concept. Rubbing my palms together, I said to Shannyn, “Can you imagine the hell this family of mine is going to cast upon the world?”

  She poured herself a drink and then raised her glass to meet mine. “I’m just glad I’m not one of your enemies.”

  Over the next hour we drank and talked and talked and drank. While my friend and I reminisced on the days of our youth, shared stories of our time apart, and told stupid jokes, I thought of how unfortunate it was that she and Charlie couldn’t get along. They’d like each other all right if they could quit being so catty.

  Eventually, Shannyn laid her hand on mine. “So what are you going to do with all that gold?”

  “I suppose we’re going to retire, somewhere. That’s what Charlie wants to do, anyhow.” I belched, and rubbed my rum filled gut.

  Looking stunned, Shannyn asked, “Where?”

  “Somewhere we both like and somewhere we won’t be bothered by our pasts. Maybe Bristol,” I huffed, thinking of how much shit I’d have to deal with to get us there.

  Lighting her pipe, Shannyn said, “You know, I have always daydreamed about settling down with you, yet I’m having a hard time imagining you settling down.”

  “You’re telling me? Shit, if I can even get through the pile of shit that will lead us there, I have no idea what the hell I’ll do once we arrive.” Poking at a piece of eight, watching the way it reflected the candlelight, I sighed, “But it’s what she wants, and I’m determined to get that woman what she wants. No matter what it takes.”

  Exhaling her smoke, Shannyn asked, “What is it that you want?”

  “What do I want? Ah, I don’t know what the hell I want.” And then, drunk as I was, I expelled my feelings like I would have in my journal had she not come in. “I certainly never thought I’d marry, but ever since I took her as my own, I knew I’d have to make some changes. Yet, it’s still hard to imagine letting go of the life I’ve loved for so long. Of course I enjoy the hell out of it, but beyond that, it’s all I know. It’s almost like I’ll be giving up my spirit if I go ashore again. I tried it once and, well, that calm, quiet life, doing the same thing over and over, was a lot like jail.”

  “Well, surely you’ll get a job of some sort. That could make things interesting depending on what you choose. What about your artwork? I remember your father was always saying you should find a way to make a living by selling your maps.”

  “I’ve thought about that, but without sailing regularly, I think my charts, as well as my reputation, will lose their value.”

  “Why don’t you continue sailing while she runs her inn?”

  “No.” I flicked one of the coins.

  “Why not, Sterling? It’s what you love.”

  “Ah, Charlie don’t want to be stuck ashore without me.” Feeling the weight of all this shit, I laid my suddenly heavy head in my hands.

  “Aw, Sterling, that isn’t right. A woman should wait for her man ashore. I suppose if I ever found me a worthy man, I’d be good at that, because I never want to sail again and I’m fine on my own.”

  “Not Charlie. No, she gets herself in too much trouble. And now that she’s got this vile reputation, the common folk will treat her like shit. She don’t think about that part of the story but it plagues me daily. Her troubles are my troubles whether she thinks so or not.”

  “Do you ever think you’d like to be free of them troubles?”

  Pausing for a moment, I thought back on what my life was like before I got into this mess with Charlie…I’d sailed through storms and over shimmering seas. I’d fought in taverns and alleyways without fretting about what would happen to anyone else if I lost my life. I’d smoked tobacco and opium and hashish, and ate different foods from around the world, and the women…Oh, I had experienced the flavors of many, many different women.

  I had drifted so far in my memories of the wild and daring life I had lived, that I hardly heard when Shannyn whispered, “I have always loved you, Sterling. If you’ll be with me I’ll love you and support what you love. I’ll wait for you ashore and make sure everything is nice at home when you arrive. And I will never, ever keep you from the sea.”

  With my face in my hands, I attempted to process her love-struck plea, but since my head was down I was nowhere near ready to ward her off when she sifted her fingers through my goatee, lifted my chin, and planted a kiss on my lips. The passionate attack caught me off guard, but the moment her tongue filled my mouth, I realized Charlie had been right about this wench all along…Yet, there was something about this kiss that captured my attention. Perhaps it was the memories of those better days she brought back to life, or maybe it was the way the moment reminded me of what it was like to be wild and free without a care in the world. Whatever it was, the door fle
w open before I had a chance to figure it out.

  It was Charlie. Shit. I had fully expected her to attack—rightfully so—but I had not imagined she would aim her pistol at Shannyn, and pull the trigger.

  The gun didn’t fire. Thank God.

  Shannyn leapt to her feet. Hands up, she tried to surrender. Charlie chucked the gun at her like an axe. The heavy wood bashed against Shannyn’s face. Watching blood splatter from her nose, I shouted at Charlie to let her be, but there was no stopping her. With all the force of the wind, Hurricane Charlie grabbed that bitch by the throat and smashed her against the wall. She slammed her head against it a few times before dropping her to the floor where she proceeded to annihilate her with thunder force punches.

  Running toward them to break up the fight, I saw Charlie pull her dagger out. She had to be stopped.

  Grabbing Charlie by the arm, I lifted her off of Shannyn, and threw her across the room. Jumping between them, I held my arms out to keep them apart. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let her be. It’s not what you think.”

  Backing away from me, Charlie shouted, “Are you truly going to side with her right now?”

  “I’m not siding with anyone. I just don’t need any bloodshed.”

  “You know what I don’t need?” she pointed at my face. “A husband I cannot trust.”

  “What? No. I didn’t do anything, she…”

  “She? If it was her then let me kill her.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Let her go and we’ll talk. I can explain everything.”

  “I’ve heard and seen all I need to know to make my decision, Sterling…” She looked angry as hell as she scolded me, but rather than crying, or raging like the emotional hurricane I knew and loved, an unfamiliar expression crossed her face as she said, “But now this bitch has the pieces of your heart I have been trying to pry out of your chest. And I will not share that part of our love.”