Pirates of Savannah: The Complete Trilogy - Colonial Historical Fiction Action Adventure (Pirates of Savannah (Adult Version))

by Tarrin P. Lupo

  “Well, it will give me a chance to get my gold. We have to do it, Isaac," Patrick resolved.

  “Fine, but if you get my neck stretched, you will be all alone in your afterlife,” Isaac threatened.

  “Alone? What do you have some secret that will allow you to escape eternal damnation? Some might pay gold for such a secret," Patrick said in a jesting tone.

  Isaac became serious and stated “No secret, Patrick. I merely have faith that God will resurrect me after the Messiah comes. Perhaps he will resurrect you too.”

  “Sorry, my Hebrew friend. I forget how serious you take those stories. My apologies bestowed on to you, my brother. Let’s not wait around for the Second Coming. Shall we pack up and catch this ship tonight?” Patrick inquired.

  Garland and Isaac agreed and began packing up immediately.

  “William, I am not sure when I will be back this way, but you and your family are welcome to stay with me if you ever need a place. You are family to me and Archibald would have been very grateful of what you have done to help his family. I will miss you, Sovereign McIntosh.”

  “Aye, lad. Come back soon. I will miss ya and the Jew, too. I will wear Archibald’s tartan proudly until it crumbles from me body," William vowed.

  The men embraced and Patrick, Isaac, and Garland were quickly on their way back to Savannah. They traveled by daylight so as not to tempt the road agents. By nightfall, the three had made it to the edge of the Trustee’s Garden.

  Since Isaac had done nothing to alter his appearance, Patrick instructed him and Garland to remain hidden. Patrick assumed no one would recognize him clean-shaven and with new clothes if he was seen from a distance. "I am going to get my gold!” he smiled as he left.

  Patrick cautiously scurried around the edge of the town staying out of sight. At one point, he caught a glimpse of the Freeman’s house now being occupied by a group of soldiers. They were laughing and drinking under the dogwood and were oblivious to Patrick’s movements. He navigated into the swamp and quickly located his buried booty. He used a large oyster shell to dig in the moonlight and the pouch was soon unearthed. He pulled the gold out in triumph and rattled it to hear the jingle of happiness. This gold is going to change my family's life for the better, he proudly thought. Before, he could not support those who supported him. Now, however, everything had just changed. He was excited and could barely concentrate as he circled back to his waiting friends.

  “Was it still there?” Isaac asked.

  Patrick smiled ear to ear. “Let’s book us a ship. Come on, let’s go to the Three Lantern Pub,” he ordered.

  It was surprisingly easy to locate after William described what they were looking for. They spotted the small brick building with three lamps hanging to the right side of the oak door. It was located right in front of the gardener’s herb house. The illegal pub also had stone stairs leading down to a rum cellar in the back. They knocked three times, then twice, then once as they were instructed by William. After a minute, the door cautiously cracked open and a ragged old man peaked out the cracked door. “What do ya want?” he screeched with a gravelly voice.

  “We are thirsty, good man, and want a drink of course,” Patrick replied.

  The unkempt man barked back, “Ya can drink but no women or Jews!”

  “I really want my friends to drink with me. Are you sure I can’t get you to change your policies just for tonight,” Patrick asked as he flashed a bright yellow coin before the dirty man's eyes.

  “Well, if ya got that much color then I can look da other way just for tonight,” he stated as he opened the door for the three of them.

  The pub was very small, by tavern standards, and poorly lit. Just two tables and a bar adorned the establishment with a back storage room.

  One of the tables was occupied by a stunning blonde temptress dressed in a flashy, yellow, skin-tight dress and a skinny sunburned bearded man who looked vaguely familiar. “I thought you said no women. Well, what the hell is that then?” Garland shrilly asked as she pointed to the extremely large-breasted blonde woman.

  “Oh, that is no woman," the grouchy old man scoffed. "She is the whoremaster Miss Darden. I advise just leaving her be."

  The three sat at the bar and ordered rum. The old man with the filthy beard went in the back and returned with three small wooden tumblers filled with foul smelling rum. The three made a toast to a new life together and downed the round.

  “Just bring the jug, sir. We will want more. What’s your name, bartender?” Garland asked pleasantly.

  “Me name is Jim Jaques and I ain’t be bringing ya no jug till I get paid," the old man barked.

  Isaac pulled out his last six silver rounds and ordered, “Keep the rum flowing.”

  Jim went into the storage room and returned with a dark brown jug with cork surrounding it. He poured the three another rounds.

  “Jim, I am told by my friend William that you are a man who knows how to find stuff. He told me you could find the Jewish gardener who used to work in the trustee’s garden. He was rumored to grow some real dandy hemp bud.” Patrick pressed.

  “Ya speak of gardener Goldsmith, he grows the best smoke around. Unfortunately, he is like a bugbear or a ghost, he is almost impossible to find. Sorry I can’t help you with that. Dar be anything else I can help ya locate?” The dirty old man asked.

  “I am told you could help us procure passage on one of the vessels down by the docks,” Patrick inquired.

  “That be true. I have been known to help those of wealth from time to time. Where you be wanting to go?” the filthy man inquired.

  “We need passage to Cape Fear and we need a vessel to leave as soon as possible, tonight even. Can you arrange it with one of the captains? I will pay you well if you can make this happen for us,” Patrick held up a gold doubloon.

  The old man drooled at the sight of the gold, but he composed himself quickly and stated, “With that kinda color you get the good rum!” He removed the brown jug and replaced it with a bottle from under the counter. “I think I can help ya but ya will have to wait here for a while. Drink yar spirits and I will see what I can do.” The filthy bearded man returned to the back room.

  The three had another couple rounds of the good rum and a feeling of relaxation and euphoria came over them. “This is some powerful fire water," Garland slurred. "My brain already hurts.” Before her words were finished, she slumped out of her chair and hit the ground. Isaac dropped down and tried to pick her up from the filthy, red clay floor. The goliath stumbled to his feet, holding her in his arms. He wrestled with keeping his eyes open and sat back down. The last thing Patrick saw before his world went dark was Isaac’s massive body slumped over his sister’s and a bow-legged man standing over them.

  “Oh, lord. Jim drugged them. Take them to the tunnels in the rum cellar and go find help. Be fast! We only have minutes,” a woman’s voice rang in Patrick’s ear before he lost consciousness.

  The entrance to Savannah's secret pirate smuggling tunnels

  * * *

  “No, No, No!” Garland screamed. Patrick opened his hazy eyes as her loud voice pierced his ears. He slowly shook off the brain sloth and focused on his surroundings. When his eyes finally became clear, he realized he was in the dimly lit quarters of a ship. “This can’t be! This is my mark carved into this wood plank,” Garland belted out.

  “Where are we? Garland, what are you yelling about?” Isaac asked as he slowly sat up holding his pounding head.

  “Open your eyes, you fools. Look around! Does any of this look familiar?!” Garland screeched.

  Isaac and Patrick surveyed their surroundings and at the same time muttered, “No, it can’t be.”

  “Yes, you idiots! We are prisoners back on the Robin. I carved my mark into this wood on my voyage over!” Garland exclaimed.

  “Oh, God! Isaac, do you think we just got pressed into service on the Robin? Oh shite! My gold is gone, too. Damn it!” Patrick yelled and joined his sister’s state of panic.


  Isaac filled with anger. “I have finally tasted freedom. I will no longer live as any man's slave. I say we make our stand, brother. We die fighting on our feet!”

  “Agreed! Isaac and I will throttle the first man through this door. Once he is on the ground, sister, you must stomp the life out of him with your bare feet," Patrick instructed.

  “I will not be a filthy sailor’s sex slave," Garland resolved grimly.

  “I hear someone coming. I will go low. You go high, Isaac and, sister, you stomp. Now quiet until we ambush,” Patrick whispered.

  The two men’s bodies filled with fighting juices and time seemed to slow. The door was unlocked, opened, and the men wasted no time in their bull rush. Patrick bound the man’s feet with a leaping tackle. Isaac swung hard and struck the man in the mouth. Since his feet were already tangled, the victim blew backwards hitting his head against the wall. Blood from the man’s mouth splattered all over Patrick’s white shirt.

  “Fuck ya, ya goat-eating, Jew bastard!” the man spat.

  “Isaac! Stop! Everyone, stop!” Patrick shouted.

  “Damn right! Ya goat-humpers best be stoppin’. I fookin’ rescue ya from the certain death by redcoats and this be me thanks. G’damn, ya Jew! Now I only gots four teeth left,” Shamus yelled as he coughed out a bloody tooth.

  “Wait...why aren’t we killing this man?” Garland asked in confusion.

  Isaac helped the small, foul-mouthed Irishman to his feet. “I am sorry, Shamus. We thought you came to murder us. So what in the name of Moses is going on?”

  “Well, Isaac Swartz, dis best be explained better up topside. Come on,” the toothless man motioned.

  The small group made their way up the familiar old staircase of the Robin and into the blinding sunlight. They could feel the old galleon rocking under their feet and knew they were in open waters.

  “Why does me husband have blood all over him, Irishman?!” a woman’s voice boomed.

  “Ma'am, dese crazy man-humpin’ bastards played gladiator wit me. Dat be my blood, Cap'n April Sky," Shamus responded.

  A tawdry dressed, tattooed woman stepped out from the crew. “Be known, crew," April announced, "any of you even step on me husband’s toe and I will burn you down!”

  Isaac, Garland and Patrick questioned April in unison, “Husband?”

  “That’s right, me husband," April stated. "Our child is not growing up a bastard.”

  Isaac, Garland and Patrick questioned April again in unison, “Child?!”

  As if on queue a small baby toddled over and leaned on to her mother’s tattooed leg to keep balance.

  “I think I am going to fall down,” Patrick moaned as he collapsed into his sister’s arm.

  “Who is this harlot to be hugging on my husband?” April demanded.

  “Wait, Captain! This is Patrick’s sister from London," Isaac spoke up. "Her name is Garland.”

  Patrick started counting the months on his hands. “Well I guess by the age of that youngin' it could be mine, but how do you know?”

  April smiled, saying, “Because my dear, you’re the only man I have laid with in a long time. It’s yours or God’s child.”

  “What’s his name?” Patrick asked as he approached.

  “Well he is a she and her name is Tracy," the proud mother smiled.

  “She? Tracy? That is an odd name,” Patrick stated.

  “You uneducated fool! It is an ancient Gaelic name meaning 'warlike and fierce.' She beat me insides up so bad, I figure she's a natural warrior," April explained. "Let us go below deck in the private and talk some more."

  The captain left Tracy with a crewwoman named Miss Bias and took Patrick below deck to the captain’s private quarters. She kissed him passionately and started undressing him. Patrick enjoyed the kiss but was still rearing from confusion. “I don’t remember any wedding when we had our sexual odyssey to Jekyl Island. Did I take a blow to the head and lose my senses?” Patrick asked as his breeches fell to the floor.

  “Let me remind you, I am captain and on this vessel I can marry anyone I please. So, I married us," April stated with authority as she dropped to her knees in front of him.

  Patrick had noticed her breasts were still swollen from weaning. She had already regained her slender form but her tits now looked much fuller. The tattoo of the alligator on her left breast now appeared to be eating the black cat on the right. “I see. I still think I am supposed to say ‘I do’ and have a proper ceremony and such,” Patrick continued.

  “Here, take this," she smiled as she placed ring on top of the tip of his erect penis. "Now say you do.”

  “I don’t think that is how it works,” he laughed.

  The ring flew across the room as she mounted him and the sex marathon began again. After a few hours of vigorous thrusting from multiple positions, they both became very hungry and thought about stopping to eat.

  “You know it is important our daughter not grow up a bastard child. So as far as this crew knows, we've been married since Jekyl Island. I do find you a good man, Patrick, and I would be a great wife to you if you will have me. The sex is fantastic but I think love could eventually bud from this union. I will go down on you one more time if you agree!” she laughed with a devilish grin.

  “Well in that case, find that ring and get on your knees again. Let me warn you of this though, it best not be like all the husbands I know where this will be the last one I get as soon as I accept this ring,” he chuckled.

  He watched her beautiful, naked body search the floor for the ring. “Here it is, my wolf,” she triumphantly announced. She approached him and handed it him. A feeling of sadness overtook Patrick as he realized he had nothing for her. “I know this whole exchanging of rings is a new tradition, but I feel heavy-hearted, as I do not have one to give you.”

  “Well you’re in luck," she told Patrick. "I already have one I like for me-self."

  She handed him an odd looking ring. Patrick examined it with his jeweler’s knowledge and told April what she had. "This is an antique scribbling ring made in the 16th century for lovers. Do you see these stones set across the top here? They are uncut diamonds. Tradition is you use the stones to etch romantic notes on windowpanes, mirrors or glass." He handed the ring back to her.

  “Well it is bad luck not to follow tradition,” she stood in all of her naked splendor and carved “My Wolf” into her small pocket mirror. She placed it back in his hands and said, “My love is as fragile as this glass, if this mirror ever shatters so will my heart. Keep it safe at all times“. “Can you find anything even more fragile? I want a real challenge,” her lover said sarcastically. She flicked him in his ball sack and he yelped. “So let’s make this proper. Let us say ‘I do’ together.” She offered.

  They both slid the rings on each other’s hand and whispered, "I do."

  “I guess this means we have to go down on each other at the same time as well,” she giggled and she swung her hips toward his face.

  Chapter 20

  Secrets

  Captain April Sky and her black cat, Regan

  Patrick woke from his post coitus nap holding April’s head on his chest. “Wife, I think it is best I meet my daughter. I could also eat a whale. I have so many questions like how the hell did you end up with Shamus on your barky?”

  Patrick's numerous questions were interrupted by a knocking at the door. A woman’s voice yelled through the door, “Captain, we need to set up the dining table now for your dinner.”

  “Very good! One minute,” April yelled back. “Get dressed, husband. I am having a private dinner party and all your questions will be answered in minutes.”

  Patrick dressed as instructed and opened the door. Some exotic looking crewmen rearranged the captain’s quarters so a dining table could fit. He watched as Isaac and Garland entered and he quickly whispered to them, “By the way, I have been married for over two years. I will tell you all about it later.” Both shot Patrick the devil's eye. He returned their glares wit
h a wink and a giggle. The three took their seat around the table and watched as Shamus and Sam Scurvy walked in joining them. Patrick’s jaw fell to the table as he finally recognized the bow-legged man who was in the Three Lanterns Pub. The voluptuous, blonde woman in the yellow dress who was with Sam back at the tavern had also entered in the room, shutting the door behind her. The sultry woman took a seat and then the captain sat at the head of the table.

  April returned to speaking in her harsh, common captain’s voice, “Introductions need to made. This be me husband, Patrick, his sister, Garland, and Isaac Swartz. Over there is Shamus, Sam and Miss Darden. Miss Darden be me whoremaster and she be running all me business interests at the brothel during me absence. She be the bottom girl or the second in charge. The whoremaster can handle any questions or concerns you might have about the whores.”

  Patrick spoke up, “Whores? Are there more women on board than you two?”

  “There be eight other prostitutes on board and some children,” she responded.

  “Children and women?! What kind of crew are you running here? I have never heard of such craziness,” her husband responded.

  “Listen to dis, Patrick Sky,” Shamus chuckled at his own joke. “Ya should see all da g’damn cats she got runnin’ ‘round on here, too. All of dem black. I done lost count after fifteen.”

  “Do you want to curse this vessel, Irishman?" the captain responded. "Custom dictates you must have a black cat for every woman soul on your barky. Do you want to tempt the fates and not honor tradition?”

  “Captain April Sky, I have heard of one g’damn black cat to assure a safe return but never heard of one per lady. Me thinks you just be making yar own fookin’ customs up,” Shamus challenged.

  “That is sea law, Shamus Red. Now you best be minding it before I order the Jew to knock your last few teeth out,” she snapped.