by Bev Stout
After cinching the saddle, she waited a moment for Phantom to relax. "Now the hard part," she said while she wiped her sweaty palms on her trousers. Annie cinched the saddle even tighter. Phantom snorted. She wondered if he was voicing his impatience with her. "Sorry if I am a little slow at this, but I haven't had much practice."
The stool wobbled as she pulled herself onto the saddle. Phantom stomped the ground. They were both anxious to leave the stable.
With any luck, Annie thought, Abigail had weaved her web around Mr. Montgomery, giving her a head start. Even so, she wasn't taking any chances.
Gripping the reins tightly, Annie rode Phantom past the stalls. While she passed each one, Annie reached down to unlatch the doors. She then waved her cap in the air.
"Scat! Get out of here!" she hollered, stampeding the horses into the paddock.
* * *
On the outskirts of London, Annie felt the saddle inch slightly to one side. Should have cinched it tighter, she thought as she hunkered low. When Phantom got a sudden burst of speed, Annie couldn't hold on any longer and found herself sailing through the air.
Just before she hit the ground Annie tucked her head under at the last second. She rolled until she came to an sudden stop in a briar bush. Her hands trembled as she felt for broken bones. Satisfied that her injuries were minor—scrapes and bruises, she looked around for Phantom. To her dismay, she saw him galloping off in the direction of Spencer Estate.
Annie wasted no time running in the moonlight before she caught her foot in a rabbit hole. She heard a popping sound as she collapsed to the ground in pain. Gingerly touching her ankle, she realized it had ballooned to twice its normal size.
Impossible to walk, let alone run, Annie crawled. Even then, the pain was agonizing as she dragged her foot behind her.
She crawled until her knees were rubbed raw. Bits of gravel adhered to her bloodied skin.When she stumbled onto a broken tree limb, she pushed herself up to use it as a crutch. Annie gritted her teeth as she placed her injured foot on the dirt. "That bloody hurts!"
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
With the help of her makeshift crutch, Annie stumbled through London. Nearing the docks, she saw sailors celebrating their last night in England. As she passed the Black Anchor Pub, she collided with a sailor staggering out of the tavern.
"Watch where yer goin'."
The stocky sailor squished Annie's face between his broad hands. "Well, I'll be. I 'aven't seen ye in a long time. Thought the little maggot died or somethin'."
Annie's blood ran cold as she stared into Symington's eyes.
He mussed up her hair sending shivers down her spine. "Where's yer 'at?"
Symington then looked up and down the street. "Is Mr. Montgomery 'iding somewhere?" he muttered.
The smell of whiskey and rotting teeth turned Annie's stomach. "No, Symington, I'm alone." The words spilled out before the ramification of what she said hit her.
"Alone, are ye?" Like an animal stalking its prey, Symington eyed the stick. "Did ye 'urt yerself?"
"No." Annie stood straighter without putting more weight on the painful foot.
"Ye lie! Ye did 'urt yerself!"
Without warning, Symington kicked the stick out from under her. Fear emitted from every pore as Annie tumbled sideways.
"Why didn't ye tell me ye were 'urt?" he said. He bent down yanking a thistle out of her hair. "Let me take a look at yer leg."
Annie rubbed her scalp where a handful of hair, along with the thistle, was now missing. "I hurt my ankle."
Symington ran his calloused hands around both her ankles. "This one is swollen bad. Doc will need to take look at it. Ye think the cap'n will reward me?"
"Reward you for what?"
Symington let out a hearty laugh. "For bringing ye back to the ship. Bet 'e doesn't know yer 'ere, all by yer lonesome, now does 'e?"
If it means getting back to the Realm, I will promise him anything, she said to herself. "The captain will give you a reward, Symington, a big one," she said spreading her hands far apart.
"Me lucky day! One more dart game, and then I will take ye back to the ship. Now, don't go running off, Andrés," he said chuckling.
"Symington! Don't leave me here!"
"Don't want ye getting any ideas," he said as he picked up her walking stick and hurled it through the air. The sound of breaking glass dashed any hope of her making it back on her own.
Listening to his mocking laugh, Annie watched Symington stagger back to the Black Anchor Pub.
While her ankle throbbed, she looked around hoping to find someone else she knew, someone who would actually help and not abandon her. Her spirits lifted when a figure approached from the shadows.
"Andrés? Is that you?"
Annie could make out only his broad shoulders and long hair. The voice jolted her, though. It was familiar, but definitely not Barrette.
"Do I frighten you?"
"Should I be?" she asked.
He continued coming closer, his steps confident. He bent down and struck a match in her face. "If I hadn't heard that old sot call you by name, I might not have realized it was you."
For the first time, Annie wished Symington had stuck to calling her little maggot and not Andrés.
"The bigger question is do you remember me?" He hissed.
Annie's voice shook. "Lawrence?"
"So, you do remember me. I am flattered."
Annie sucked in her breath. "You can't still be angry that Captain Hawke chose me instead of you as his cabin boy."
"Are you forgetting? He did choose me. No matter, I was hired later that same day on another ship." He paused. "The Margaret Louise."
"You couldn't have been on the Margaret Louise. She sank. David Palmer was the only survivor."
"The captain's son survived? What a pity. Never liked him much."
Lawrence lit another match. He read Annie's expression well. "A bosun mate died on the Crimson Revenge before they seized the Margaret Louise. His misfortune was my good fortune. I replaced him.
"Would you like to know what I learned from Godenot and his crew?"
Annie kept quiet wondering how long Symington's dart game would be.
"I learned all about torture and revenge." Lawrence paused. "I wager Captain Hawke would be mighty sad if anything happened to his cabin boy. What do you think?"
Annie shouted as loud as she could, "Symington!"
Lawrence pulled out a knife, admiring its sharp blade in the moonlight. "Save your breath," he said. "Symington has forgotten you by now. This time I will gut you like a fish and no one will come to your rescue, not the captain, not anyone."
Lawrence parted Annie's bangs with his knife, nicking her forehead. A thin line of blood bubbled to the surface. "Taking your time when you are torturing someone can be a delightful experience."
Annie didn't flinch.
"My, my, aren't you the brave one."
"I have friends, Lawrence. You won't get away with this."
Lawrence stood up. He shouted to a group of sailors singing and staggering along the cobblestone street. "Are any of you Andrés' friends?"
Not a one even looked in their direction.
Out of the corner of her eye, though, Annie caught a glimmer of hope, a knife that dwarfed Lawrence's blade.
"Yer not being nice to me cap'n's cabin boy, now are ye?" Symington's voice boomed.
Startled, Lawrence quickly grabbed Annie. Clutching her like a human shield, Lawrence glared at Symington. "Take one more step closer, and I will slit the boy's throat."
Annie stopped digging her fingernails into Lawrence's flesh and held her breath.
"Drop your knife…now!" said yet another voice.
It came from behind Lawrence. Annie immediately recognized it—Barrette.
"Shoot me and you just might shoot Andrés, as well," Lawrence warned. "Are you willing to take that chance?"
Annie could feel Lawrence's rapid heartbeat. Trying to remain calm, Annie said, "He has a
point, Barrette."
"Guess I'll have to take that chance!" Barrette shouted. "Drop the knife."
As the seconds ticked by, Annie hoped she wouldn't become one of Symington's stories told in the fo'c'sle.
Lawrence yielded.
"I wasn't going to hurt him," he muttered. "I just wanted to scare him."
Unwilling to risk his shipmate's life, Barrette struck Lawrence over the head.
The blow to his head sent Lawrence toppling forward. His knife remained at Annie's throat. As she fell along with Lawrence, she questioned Barrette's strategy.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Symington wrenched Lawrence's arm away from Annie. Before she could reach for her throat to check for wounds, Barrette swooped down and caught her around her torso. She wasn't certain her ribs would survive his crushing hold.
"Careful with the little maggot," Symington said, "Don't want to bring back damaged goods to the Cap'n."
Barrette laid Annie down. "Are you all right?"
"I am now," she said. "When did you buy a pistol?"
"I didn't."
"If it's not yours, then whose is it?"
"I never had a pistol," Barrette said. "I picked up a rock and shoved it into Lawrence's back. Everything was happening so fast, I didn't know what else to do."
"So, I was saved by a rock?"
"No." He smiled. "You were saved by me."
Annie smiled back until she saw Symington tug up on Lawrence's thatch of blond hair with one hand, his knife in the other. "What are you doing?"
"Best I kill the mad dog," he said.
"Wait!" Annie shouted.
"Why?"
"If I hadn't caused that ruckus on the wharf months ago, Lawrence would have been Captain Hawke's cabin boy and none of this would have happened."
"That don't change nothing. 'E still tried to kill ye."
"Look who's here," Annie heard Barrette say. "We do all the work and now Andrés' nursemaid shows up."
Mr. Montgomery reined in his horse. "When I saw Phantom along the road, I knew you couldn't have gotten far," he said to Annie as he slid off the saddle, tossing his reins to Barrette.
Annie looked up sheepishly. "Phantom threw me."
"I figured as much. You're lucky you didn't break your fool neck. Anything else you would like to tell me." Mr. Montgomery cocked his head. "Like who is that?"
"Lawrence," Annie said. "He attacked me…again.
Mr. Montgomery studied the unconscious youth's features. "Should I know this chap?"
"Lawrence is the fellow you dragged off the wharf before we sailed to the colonies. He is now one of Godenot´s men, a pirate."
"If he is a pirate, then why is he here?" Mr. Montgomery said.
"All I know is if it wasn't for Symington and Barrette, he would have killed me," Annie said.
"Get on your feet and I will take you back to the ship. Doc needs to look you over before I take you back to the Spencer's."
"The lad can't walk, sir," Symington said with slurred speech. "I think 'e broke 'is ankle."
Mr. Montgomery grabbed the reins from Barrette. He put his foot into the stirrup and swung himself into the saddle. "Hand…the boy to me. You two bring Lawrence back to the ship alive," he ordered.
Annie saw the disappointment on Symington's face as he picked her up and heaved her behind the cantle. "Remember, Mr. Montgomery, I saved the little maggot's life," he said.
"Symington, how many times must I tell you, his name is…?" Mr. Montgomery stopped. "I will put in a good word for you to the captain."
As he loosened the reins, he eyed Annie behind him. "You, young lady, have a lot of explaining to do," Mr. Montgomery said. "Hold on tight!"
Watching Annie clasp her arms firmly around the first mate's waist, Symington scratched his head. "Did I 'ear Mr. Montgomery call Andrés a 'lady?'"
Barrette howled with laughter. "That he did, Symington. That he did!"
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
When Mr. Montgomery barged into Captain Hawke's cabin, he was greeted by blazing candlelight. Candles were everywhere, tall ones, short ones. Light danced on the overhead while shadows swayed.
"Doesn't anyone knock anymore?" Captain Hawke said from his chair.
"Are you trying to burn down our ship?"
"No, I was entertaining."
Mr. Montgomery sniffed a trace of perfume in the air before he spied two empty wine glasses on the table. He whispered, "Where is she?"
"The young woman departed rather abruptly, said I wasn't good company this evening." The captain took a swig from the bottle of port he clutched in his hand. "Were you able to cheer Annie up after I left?"
"Not exactly. Would you care to know what your cabin boy has been up to?"
"I no longer have a cabin boy. Remember?" He guzzled down the rest of the port.
"Well, Annie believes she is still your cabin boy. In fact, she was returning to the ship to prove it to you."
Captain Hawke tossed the empty bottle on the rug. "What are you talking about?"
"It is a long story."
"I have all the time in the world. Start from the beginning."
While they blew out the array of glowing candles, Mr. Montgomery briefed Captain Hawke on the evening's events: the letter to Abigail, the stampeded horses, Annie being thrown from Lord Spencer's horse, and her trek into London on her injured ankle.
"Didn't I tell you that cabin boys were too much trouble?" the captain said between puffs.
Mr. Montgomery licked his fingers to extinguish a flame. "I have saved the best for last, Jonathan. One of Godenot's men tried to kill her."
The captain turned so fast his sleeve nearly caught on fire from the one remaining candle. "A pirate tried to kill my cabin boy?"
"I thought you said you didn't have a cabin boy."
He ignored Mr. Montgomery's comment. "How badly is she hurt?" Captain Hawke asked.
"Don't look so worried, Jonathan. She was hurt worse from her fall from Lord Spencer's horse than from her encounter with Lawrence. She's with Doc, now."
"Lawrence? Who's Lawrence?" Captain Hawke said as he paced the floor.
"Lawrence is both the pirate and the fellow you picked to be your cabin boy before you chose Annie."
The captain shook his head and laughed.
"What's so amusing, Jonathan?"
"Not amusing, Matthew, ironic. I remember Annie saying how you have to look out for those quiet ones. She was referring to Lawrence." Captain Hawke looked off into space. "Where is he now? Dead I hope."
"I told Barrette and Symington to bring him back to the ship…alive."
"Barrette and Symington?"
"Aye, they saved Annie's life."
"I want to question Symington and Barrette about Lawrence as soon as they are back on board."
"What about Annie?" Mr. Montgomery asked.
"Nothing has changed."
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Mr. Montgomery informed Captain Hawke when Barrette and Symington returned to the Realm. When the captain found them in the fo'c'sle, both hopped to attention.
The captain thrust out his hand. "I believe thanks are in order."
Symington quickly wiped his hand across his shirt before shaking the captain's hand. "I was 'oping ye might cross me palm with a coin or two, Cap'n. Mind ye, I am not greedy, but I did save yer, uh, cabin girl's life. Barrette and me thinks Mr. Montgomery called 'im a lady."
"Aye, you heard right. My cabin boy is a girl." Looking at Symington's outstretched hand, he said, "Mr. Montgomery will compensate you both."
"I don't want a reward, Captain." Barrette said as the captain shook his hand.
"Can I 'ave 'is share?" Symington asked.
Captain Hawke nodded. "You can have his share, Symington, but right now, I want you to tell me everything you know about Lawrence and why he is here and not the Crimson Revenge?"
"He wasn't real talkative, Captain," Barrette said. "But he did tell us that the Crimson Revenge went aground dur
ing a storm. It broke up off the coast of France. Few survived. Godenot wasn't one of them,"
Captain Hawke thought a moment before ordering Barrette to stand guard outside Doc's quarters until Annie was safely off the ship.
"I'll look after her, Captain. You needn't worry. No harm will come to her on my watch," Barrette said.
The captain then turned to Symington. "Stand guard over Lawrence."
"We tied 'im up, Cap'n. That bloody pirate is going nowhere."
"I am sure you secured him good, Symington, but I don't want to take any chances of him getting loose."
Symington punched his fist into his hand. "It will be a pleasure, Cap'n."
"He will be turned over to the authorities." Captain Hawke muttered under his breath, "Pirates hang."
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
Annie grimaced in pain while Doc bound her ankle. When the door flew open, she forgot her discomfort. For a brief moment, Annie saw Barrette standing outside the door. But it was Captain Hawke, his jaw taut, that quickly changed her focus.
She imagined what a sight she must be. The knees of her trousers were completely gone, and the left sleeve ripped below her shoulder. She ran her hand through her hair, only to prick her finger on a spiky thistle. Annie peered into the captain's brooding eyes. Worry, relief? No, she thought, anger.
Captain Hawke studied Annie's toes peeking out from the bandage wrapped around her foot and ankle. "How bad is it, Doc?"
"Cuts, bruises, nothing serious. Her ankle might be broken, but it is so swollen, I can't be certain," Doc answered.
The captain stared at Annie. "I wish to talk to her alone, Doc."
"Certainly, Jonathan, but remember she has had a difficult time."
"And whose fault is that?"
Ah, thought Annie, there goes that eyebrow. And if there had been concern in the captain's voice before, it was now gone.
Looking like he had aged ten years in one night, Doc shuffled past Captain Hawke to the passageway. Annie braced herself for the onslaught she knew would soon follow. She didn't have long to wait.
