Pirate’s Redemption
By Camille Oster
Copyright 2016 Camille Oster
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the work of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Camille Oster – Author
www.camilleoster.com
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Camille-Oster/489718877729579
[email protected]
@camille_oster
Chapter 1
Tortuga Bay, 1688
The sun was beaming down as they rowed to the shore of Tortuga Bay, on the little dinghy as they returned from the last few weeks’ worth of sailing and resulting activities. It had been a good outing; they'd boarded a Spanish galleon and freed it of quite a bit of coffee, as well as a fair amount of gold. The loot had been divided amongst the men and was currently being carried to the store where they collectively kept all their gains. It was a benefit of being in this town, which Christian and Clara Rossi ran, dealing with the loot on everyone's behalf, by storing treasures and selling commodities, and anything else they could. Effectively, they ran a pirate bank.
Christian and Clara now ran the town after the death of Clara's father a year of so back. They'd removed the worst element of the pirate society, but it was still a rough town where one had to stand on one's own feet to survive. They made enemies, but the people who benefited from their sovereign rule, protected the town, as well as their leading couple.
Walking along the boardwalk made from materials from old ships, Lieutenant Joshua Havencourt made his way to his rooms. He’d lived here for four years now, after his disgrace as an officer of the Royal Navy. There was no return for him and he was a wanted man in all British ports.
Picking up the book he'd been reading, he made his way to the tavern which was raucous and noisy, even though it was still daylight outside. The large room was filling and the men were settling in for a long evening of drinking and merriment. This was not a town for the meek.
Joshua took his typical table in the corner and ordered a claret from the serving wench. Finding his place in his book, he started reading, ignoring the noise and chaos around him as men drank, fought and gamed their spare time away.
Tortuga Bay had been established by Clara's father and had from its inception been a hideaway for the pirates sailing the Caribbean. There were other pirate holes, but this one was a favorite of those with British, or rather, non-Spanish origins. Nationality wasn't of huge significance—more important was the willingness to live under Christian and Clara's rule.
Most of the buildings were constructed from old ships as well. With the ships they captured, there was never any shortage of building material, but it was still important to keep the town small, to avoid attracting unwanted attention. The town itself had a huddled feeling, buildings leaned on one another and there was little logic in the town’s layout. But it was home and it would probably be for the rest of Joshua's life.
Of all the men here, he was the least willing member and advocate of the pirate life. It had never been his intention to become a pirate. Circumstances forced this on him, the result of a stand against the wrongs he had observed. Hence, Lieutenant Havencourt had become notorious both in the Caribbean and back in England. It was unlikely he would ever see England again and it was the thing that aggrieved him most. The loss sat like a burning cinder in his chest, day after day.
A fight broke out amongst the men, along with shouting and cheering. The sound of splintering wood echoed off the walls as the tavern’s rough furnishings suffered in the process, but this was nothing new. Pirates disagreed and they tended to settle their arguments with fists rather than with words. In general, they were not an educated lot.
Taking a sip of his claret, Joshua ignored the ruckus in the tavern and kept reading. There was little else to do in the bay when they weren't chasing down their prey. For a long time, the lieutenant had been unwilling to take the helm of a ship, including the one that was technically his, the Southern Star, which sat in the bay unloved and untended. Even after all this time, he still had no intentions for the large, four-mast brigantine. More often, he would serve as second in command to Christian, although he preferred to sail with Clara on the occasions she did.
After whiling a few hours away, he closed his book, finished the last of his claret and made his way out of the tavern. Dusk had fallen and the town's alleyways were dark. The dark fell quickly in the Caribbean, the sound of the animal life in the jungle behind had also quieted after the noisy dusk period, when the animals all came to life. He walked toward his rooms farther into town, walking past the house Christian was in the process of building for Clara.
It was clear for all to see that they loved each other, but their relationship wasn't always settled. They fought and sometimes so the entire town knew. They ruled with a heavy hand, but it was necessary. Order was what made the town function and most here appreciated the way they managed it. It was to the benefit of the collective. Troublemakers were expelled, and forced to find another place for themselves. Clara ran the town, and anyone who mistook her gender, youth and size for weakness quickly learned. There wasn't much she wasn't capable of dealing with, but that at times, did not include her husband.
Reaching his door, Joshua made his way inside and placed the book down on the table. His rooms were well appointed, with beautiful furniture and carpets. There was no shortage of luxuries in the bay and any possible luxury they could want was accessible, so they didn't live without the necessities, or even the niceties, in life. Unlike many here, Joshua never believed material things made one happy. He still missed the society he'd grown up in. Every day, he missed the gentleman and the ladies, the matrons, the vicars and all that came with being a gentleman in English society.
All that, he'd left behind, but he still couldn't regret the choices he'd made to stand for principle, and that did matter. While his parents and family might not have supported the choices he'd made, he knew his father would understand the importance of standing up for principle, even at a great personal cost.
Joshua ate his supper in silence, choosing to stay in his rooms rather than seek out Madame Guerier's company. Madame Guerier ran the more refined establishment in the bay, where the town's inhabitants sought the company of women a class above the serving wenches. He and Madame Guerier had an established friendship and they both understood each other, probably better than anyone else on the island. She understood how deeply he grieved the loss of his life and position without judging. She, on the other hand, had not revealed a great deal of her background, but he never pushed, trusting she would tell him when and if she needed to.
But tonight, he wished for his own company after several weeks at sea in the cramped conditions of a ship. It was blissful to have some time to himself for solitude and reflection.
*
The sun was streaming in through the windows as he woke and it took him a moment to realize where he was. His mind was sure he was still at sea and he felt himself rock with ghostly waves on a ship’s hull, even though he was on dry land. Rising out of bed, he put his feet on the bare wood and looked out the window to the bright turquoise sea beyond. He had no particular plans for the day and might not leave his rooms, perhaps later making his way to Madame Guerier's establishment.
Hard thumping sounded on the door and Joshua rose to see who was disturbing him. A younger boy stood at the door, Thomas.
"Christian sent me," the boy said. "A stranger has come to town and no one knows who he is, but he's navy, Christian says."
Joshua grabbed
his coat and put it on, making his way back to the tavern where any visitors to the town tended to find themselves. Visitors, particularly with military bearing, were always a worry because the threat of a raid was real, and spies in the midst heralded one might be coming. A raid would be devastating for the town and all its inhabitants. For this reason, visitors were largely unwelcome, especially when no one knew them.
The tavern was still busy with drinking men; even in the morning light, there were men sleeping on the floor, gambling at the tables, drinking and even whoring.
Christian stood on the mezzanine level above the tavern, looking out over the gathered crowd, with crossed arms and a wide stance.
"What's going on?" Joshua asked as his eyes scanned the tavern for the stranger that had come into town.
"He's over there," Christian said, indicating with a slight nod of his head to the far corner of the tavern where a man sat with a glass of rum. It may not have looked like it, but the whole tavern—those sober enough—were aware of this man.
"Do you think he's a spy?" Joshua asked.
"He's definitely here for a reason, and he's one of your lot. You can tell by the way he walks, all that stiffness and reverence. Can't be anything but navy."
Joshua considered the man. As much as he attempted to look ragged, the man did not fit in with the pirates around here—too well fed by half. "Has anyone spoken to him?" Joshua asked.
"Not yet. I thought it might be best that you do it," Christian said. "You know the mannerisms of these people.”
"Fine," Joshua conceded and made his way down the stairs to the main part of the tavern. "Greetings," he said as he approached the table where the stranger sat. "As you can imagine, your presence is not going unnoticed. What brings you here? What can we do for you?" Joshua said and sat down.
The man eyed him suspiciously, taking a look around for an encroaching assault as he took a sip of his rum. Joshua could tell by his musculature that he was indeed someone who was used to the work of regimented naval life. Joshua continued, "We, obviously, would like to know what the navy is doing in our town. You could hardly imagine anyone less welcome here.”
The man smiled. "I'm not here to cause trouble," he said, his voice quiet, but the accent was very much English, and not the rough English of the docks where the sailing class lived. This man was an officer of some kind. His blonde hair was neatly tied back and his eyelashes were almost white, but he had the face of a man who was used to having his commands followed. It took courage to walk into a pirate town; there must be a good reason for him taking the risk.
"Then why are you here?" Joshua asked, crossing his legs and considering the man. He looked relaxed, but it was only a ruse. Joshua was ready to draw if he had to.
"I've come to see you," the man said to Joshua's surprise. "I am assuming by your bearing that you are indeed Joshua Havencourt."
"I am."
"We have a proposition for you."
"By ‘we’, you mean the navy."
"Well, not exactly the navy, especially as this is more of an unknown operation. One of our ships was taken by the Spanish not long ago, which was unfortunate as you can imagine—but most unfortunate was some of the cargo the ship was carrying, particularly the vice-admiral's daughter."
"What does this have to do with me or with us?" Joshua asked.
"You know full well the English navy cannot sail into a Spanish port to turn it over looking for the vice-admiral's girl. It would be tantamount to a declaration of war, which we don't want at this point, particularly not for the purpose of regaining a young woman. But the vice-admiral is very motivated to see her safe return to England."
"I'm sorry for this development and for the suffering the vice-admiral's family is enduring, but I don't see how I can help." Actually, he had a suspicion about what they wanted. They wanted him to seek out this girl and return her, which would be a perilous operation for anyone. As much as they didn't like visitors here, the Spanish pirates didn't like visitors in their ports either, and to some, his prior attachment to the Royal Navy still meant he was a spy.
"Well, I hope you find some solution to your difficulties, Mr… "
"McKenna," the man said. "Admiral McKenna."
"Daring to send an admiral here. What's to stop us from keeping you?"
"I'm hoping I can make this all worth your while."
Joshua considered the man. "How exactly?" he said disbelievingly.
The man pursed his lips. "The vice-admiral is willing to offer your pardon in exchange for the safe return of his daughter.”
Joshua's eyebrows rose in surprise at the offer. It was more than he expected. A pardon, a full pardon, would mean he could return to live, yet again, in England. The navy still wouldn't want him back, but he would be welcome to return home. The implications of the offer swarmed around Joshua's head. He could return to England, to his family. The disgrace may never be wiped away completely, but a pardon would mean he would be accepted back into the society he'd left behind.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"We believe she's being held on Isla Rosa." It was a fortified Spanish town protected by the Spanish privateers, and possibly the worst place to break into.
Stroking his fingers along his stubble, Joshua considered the proposition. It wasn't really a proposition; he had to do it or he'd end up spending the rest of his life here. Still, taking on the Spanish and stealing their treasure away could lead to a very short life indeed. "You make a pressing argument," he admitted.
"Then you'll do it," the man said and rose. A part of Joshua wanted to say no to helping them as they had done so little to help him when he'd needed it, but he couldn't afford spite, not when the stakes were so high. And this offer would probably never come again, the offer for a full pardon and the ability to reclaim his life. He would never forgive himself unless he tried to find and return this girl.
"What's her name?"
"Her name is Sarah."
"Tell me everything you know about her situation and don't leave anything out; her life and return may depend on it."
Chapter 2
Staring out across the bay, Joshua watched from the boardwalk as Admiral McKenna got into the small schooner and sailed away with his crew of about a dozen men. It was a small ship, but it would sail well enough.
Christian appeared beside him. "What does he want?" he asked brusquely.
"He wants me to go rescue a girl—someone the Spanish have captured."
"Was that all? Or is it a ruse of some kind?"
"I don't think so. Apparently, this girl is the vice-admiral’s daughter."
"Are you going to oblige them? This would mean stealing her from under the Spanish bastards' noses. I take it they're coming to you because they aren't willing to sail in themselves."
"They cannot. But yes, I am going to do it," Joshua said.
"Some cheek them coming here."
"I don't think they had any other choice."
"Is he going to sail that little schooner to Port Royal, do you think?"
"I suspect so."
At least the man had the foresight to not sail in here with a fully armored warship. That would have caused quite a stir and they would have been fighting before words were ever spoken. There was no doubt that the navy knew where they were, but perhaps not surprising as Tortuga Bay was too established for any of the players in the region not to know. Still, there was too much firepower in this bay for anyone to sail in here without a damn good reason, because they would be in for a fight.
Turning back, Havencourt walked away.
"You don't have to help them," Christian called after him. "What do they offer in return?"
"Something I couldn't refuse," Joshua said as he walked between the buildings, back toward his room. Instead of continuing home, he decided to seek out Madame Guerier. He felt as if he had to tell her about this development before anyone else. The whole town knew a navy man had come to have words with him, and she would find out in short or
der, if she hadn't already heard. She would be hurt if he didn't.
Their friendship was deeper than any other relationship he had in this town, even the one with Clara. They understood one another and if there was one thing he was sorry about in getting this offer, and the resulting pardon, it was that he'd leave this friendship behind. But even Madame Guerier, perhaps more so than anyone else, had learned in her existence here, and probably in the previous life she rarely spoke about, that taking care of oneself was first and foremost an obligation. That was the code all who lived here knew in their heart.
Her large entertainment parlor was busy as always, lonely men enjoying the company of the women in this establishment.
"Hello, Lieutenant," said Sally, one of the girls who called this place home. "Are you spending some time with us today?" Biting her lips together, her eyes roamed down him, appreciation making her wistful.
"I wish to speak to the Madame," he said, taking a seat at one of the round tables. He asked for a pot of coffee to be delivered and looked around the room, which was covered in deep red velvet wall coverings. One of the girls was laughing in delight across the room, sitting in the lap of a man enjoying her company. The girls made a roaring profit in this town, and Madame Guerier kept them safe and sound. There wasn't a man in this whole region who didn't know she would willingly use the small pistol she always kept on her body.
"How are you today?” Madame Guerier asked, sitting down in the chair next to him. She wore a light green silk gown, trimmed with lace and little bows sewn down her bodice. Her blond hair was tied up in the elaborate hairstyle she preferred. He wasn't sure he had even seen her looking less than perfectly presentable and utterly beautiful.
"I hear a man came to town. From what I see in your eyes, this is true," her soft voice said.
"It is. He came to see me."
"And what did he want?" she asked carefully.
Joshua took a deep breath. "He is offering me a pardon, provided I find a lost girl."
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