Pirate's Redemption

by Camille Oster

  Chapter 6

  They sailed the next day. Christian had the helm, steering the ship in the direction of Port Royal. Joshua stood by the starboard railing, watching as the men carried out their duties, the girl standing next to him. Her eyes were large and uncertain, not knowing what to do, but there was little for her to do, other than wait and try not to be in anyone's way. Port Royal wasn't far away, but again, they would have to sail through the night.

  He was on his way back home and it was truly starting to sink in now; it hadn't really before. Tortuga Bay, and his life there, were disappearing behind him. He traveled light, leaving most of his belongings behind. His wealth was safely deposited in a bank in Bermuda, a relationship that had been set up by Clara's father, and served them all well.

  Clara stood next to Christian, her eyes surveying the activity on deck, and then she nudged into his shoulder, placing a kiss on his shoulder. They were happy together, Joshua knew, and he was glad. He liked Clara, liked her determination and perseverance, even when she was a bundle of uncertainty and nerves, she pulled herself together and did what was necessary. Not even some men had her fortitude. The newlyweds were fine together; they had their squabbles like every passionate couple, but the love underlying their relationship always carried them through. She was sorry to see him go, though, having served as a mentor. She was beyond needing one now, so he’d served his purpose in that regard.

  He’d said goodbye to Madame Guerier the previous night. It had been difficult and she had been reserved—probably more so than he’d ever known. Anyway, she was protecting yourself, the way she always did. She never showed emotion if she could avoid it. And this was no exception. She wished him well, that his reintroduction to English society went smoothly and seamlessly.

  He would miss her, maybe more than everyone else. In the end, she’d turned away, as if he were leaving for a week. She didn't like scenes, preferred it this way, a quick goodbye as if it meant nothing, but he knew it meant more. She would miss him, too.

  Looking out at sea, he turned his mind to the future. He wasn't quite sure about the reception he would receive in Port Royal, even if he didn't doubt his safety was in question. But his reception wasn't of importance; he was there to perform a task, and if the men, the soldiers and mariners treated him with suspicion and even disdain, it didn't matter. His task was to organize transport, a way of sailing north and across the Atlantic.

  It would likely take a month or more to get back, depending on the route they ended up taking. Mere weeks away, he would sail back into port in England—probably Liverpool, or maybe even Southampton. He could see both ports in his mind's eye, having sailed from both.

  The men lowered the sails as they came close to Port Royal. Christian had determined there was a risk sailing too near the township, even at night, since they were all wanted men and would likely hang if caught. While Joshua had been given leave to pass through British ports, none of the others from Tortuga Bay had been. Hence, a night time approach was prudent.

  "I'm sorry to see you go," Clara said, her eyes moist. "But I know you want this and have wanted it for as long as you've been here. I can almost imagine you amongst those fine ladies and gentlemen, the handsome pirate. Those ladies will be beside themselves. You must let us know how you fare." Clara was teary, stroking up his arms. "You will always be welcome with us, of course. You know that.” Stepping forward into an embrace, she placed her head on his shoulder and squeezed him tightly.

  It was difficult to say goodbye, especially to the women in his life, but it had to be done. This part of his life was over. As Clara stepped back, he shook Christian's hands, then turned to the crew who are now standing around watching the exchange in muted silence. It did occur once in a while that one of their ranks left the life behind to pursue a gentler life—not as gentle as he was likely to find, but something more sedate than the tribulations of a resident of Tortuga Bay.

  "It's been an honor to sail with you," Joshua said, loud enough that all would hear him. "I will cherish this time, but it's time for me to return this treasure I've stolen from the Spanish to her rightful place." A cheer broke out amongst the men as there was no love lost between them and the Spanish, and he smiled before turning to the girl who was standing behind him.

  "It's time to go," he said. "Time to go home."

  The men lowered the dinghy and a rope ladder was thrown over the side. He climbed down into the darkness first and then waited for her to join him along the side of the ship. A lantern was lowered and he fixed it to the bow of the boat and started rowing. He could hear the orders and commands on the ship as they prepared to sail away.

  For a moment, he was struck by the profound loneliness, but he had to turn his attention to the task at hand. They were still quite far out at sea, so he had a night's work ahead of him. The oars struck into the water and he began to pull the little boat toward the land silhouetted in the moonlight.

  Christian and his ship slipped away into the night. The ship had been built for stealth, and Joshua lost track of it as its black sails blended into the night sky. Quiet surrounded them.

  "How long will it take?" she asked.

  "At least till dawn. You might try to get some sleep."

  She looked around with uncertainty, unable to see a way to get comfortable. Instead, she tucked her arms around her legs and remained quiet.

  "You must be relieved, returning to British society. I expect your ordeal will be over soon and you will be back home."

  "Yes," she said, but didn't say anything further as if she was still a little shocked about the whole thing.

  She'd been strong and had at no time fallen to pieces, and he appreciated her strength.

  They rowed in silence, the oars in the water the only sound. Hour after hour, until they reached the beach and Joshua jumped out, pushing the boat up on the sand. She stepped out onto the beach and Joshua took a moment to rest. It had been a long night, but he didn't want to stop. There was still quite a walk ahead of them, but if they were lucky, they'd easily find a road to follow.

  They reached the township around midday. It was one of the busiest ports in the Caribbean, with traders, soldiers, merchants and planters going about their business. The houses were mainly wooden, except the church and, of course, the fort, which stood as a giant structure in the middle of town. The streets were dusty and carts drove in and out of town along the main street they were now walking along. They passed residences and a school, general merchants, and the odd tavern.

  Fenced yards surrounded houses and horses were tied up front, waiting for their owners. Joshua guessed many of the men were home eating at this time, avoiding the midday heat. It served to avoid the midday heat in the Caribbean. The heat exhausted, stole away strength, and if possible, it was better to wait till later in the afternoon to carry out onerous tasks.

  They passed the white, wooden administrative building, with large windows and an exterior balcony around the entire building. This was the governor's office, Joshua recalled. Not much had changed, since the time he'd served here. When not on duty, he'd lived in the officers' quarters in the fort. This was a town where it wasn't difficult to find diversions and entertainments when off-duty. The officers, and their families, entertained. Even baser pursuits were catered for, but with discretion, as this was a town for families, protected by the navy and the British government. Troublemakers were swiftly punished and the smooth running of the town was ensured.

  It was a town full of possibilities, where people came to seek their fortune, or to seek a better life. The most ambitious and driven tended to find a purpose in the Caribbean. As with the region’s less savory ports, Port Royal attracted a certain kind of person.

  Making their way to the fort, Joshua approached the guards at the main gates. "I'm here to see Admiral McKenna," he stated.

  "And what business have you with the admiral?" the young man asked, eyeing him suspiciously. By the look of him, Joshua was neither navy, nor merchant, nor dre
ssed like the landed gentry of the region.

  "I'm Joshua Havencourt," he stated. "Tasked with a mission by Admiral McKenna. I require an audience with him presently. He will not be surprised to hear of my arrival."

  The guard eyed him with disbelief, but also curiosity. Joshua expected that his name was known, perhaps a cautionary tale for men who served the crown.

  "Come this way," the soldier said, taking a look at Sarah with distaste, not understanding her importance.

  Joshua could tell the guard wasn't all that convinced by his story, but was happy to lead them into the fort, where he'd be unlikely to escape now that they knew he was there. They were led into a room, and the door was closed and locked behind them. The girl turned worried eyes to him.

  "It will be fine," he assured her.

  "As a pirate, you are wanted by the navy."

  "A navy which tasked me with finding you."

  The room had a table and some chairs, so they sat down and waited. It didn't take long before the door was approached and the lock turned. Admiral McKenna himself arrived, walking into the room with the confidence of the man who was used to commanding. His gaze traveled from Joshua to the girl and back.

  "I had a feeling you would be successful," he said with a wry smile. "And it seems my assessment was right. And here she is," he said, approaching the girl. "I'm so pleased you are here. Your father has been very worried—we have all been worried for you. I would like to offer a deep apology for the traumatic events you have been subjected to. It grieves us that anyone doesn't sail safely in these waters."

  No doubt intended, Joshua felt a flare of embarrassment as he was one of the reasons people did not sail safely around here. The pirates had been something the British Navy had been unable to quell. They weren't strong enough, too often distracted by the Spanish to be able to deal with the piracy nuisance in this region.

  "Now, my dear," the admiral said. "You are to stay with I and my wife. She will be so pleased to see you, and will no doubt have everything necessary for your comfort.

  "We will speak later," the admiral said to Joshua as he departed with Miss Lancaster. He said something quietly to one of the guards, who then asked Joshua to follow him, leading him to a set of rooms that would serve as his quarters while here in Port Royal. He would likely be guardedly kept in the fort, but the rooms were comfortable—certainly not a prison cell, which would've been where he'd been housed a month prior if he'd been unlucky enough to end up here.

  Chapter 7

  Admiral McKenna led her out of the fort and down a busy street bustling with people and carts. Port Royal wasn't a small settlement; it was quite large, with women and children visible on the streets. There hadn't been that many of either in Isla Rosa, certainly not the respectable variety that could be seen going about their business here.

  They walked in silence until they reached a large, two-story wooden house painted white. "This is my residence," he said. "We would be honored to have you stay with us until your conveyance to England has been organized. My wife will see to any of your needs, and we are both happy to have your company with us for the next few days."

  They walked through a garden lush with tropical plants on the set of stairs, then through the large entrance way. An African woman, a slave if Sarah was to guess, took the admiral's hat and informed them that the mistress was in the parlor. A smiling woman with brown hair in an elaborate arrangement and sharp eyes emerged. She wore a silk dress with lace at the collar, the style a little lighter than was typical in England, but that was not unusual amongst respectable women in the Caribbean.

  "My dear, this is Miss Lancaster," the admiral said. "The man I sent has been good enough to retrieve her for us. I thought it best for her to stay with us while she was here."

  "Of course," Mrs. McKenna said. By her intonation, Sarah could tell Mrs. McKenna was from London, and of a respectable background—however, not the highest levels of society. "Oh my dear, you must be exhausted. Marcus told me about your unfortunate ordeal. We were so concerned, but here you are, all well. We must see to you. A room upstairs will be made available to you, of course. Come sit down, and have some refreshments. I'll have Winnie run you a bath."

  Sarah followed the woman through a parlor which was large and spacious. The ceilings were high and the windows large. A breeze flowed through the house, drawing out the worst of the heat. There was a table next to one of the windows, overlooking the garden, and they sat down there. With a nod, Admiral McKenna left the house and out the window, they could see him returning to the fort.

  “My husband is so busy," Mrs. McKenna said, her eyes following his progress until he was out of sight. "He is forced to spend so much time at the fort; I hardly see him." She looked wistfully for a sighting of her husband, the breeze tugging on the tendril that had fallen from her head.

  The African girl returned with a tray and she gently placed it down on the table between them.

  "Some coffee, I think. It is roasted right here in the house. There is a successful plantation farther inland. I'm sure we could both use some refreshments. I dread to think how you survived the last months," she said, considering her with seriousness, "but, you look well, my dear—better than I feared. But that's all behind you now. You are safe here. Marcus will see to your safe return to England. I'm sure you are eager to get home."

  Sarah smiled. It hadn't really sunk in that she would be returning home, and she looked out the window. The garden was beautiful—bright flowers and large, deep green leaves graced every plant.

  The coffee was rich and hot as she accepted her cup. The girl retreated, leaving the two of them to their conversation.

  "I won't keep you long. I'm sure you're in dire needed of rest. Winnie will see to your toilette. You will, of course, join us for supper tonight, unless it would be too much of an ordeal for you. The admiral wishes to host a supper in your honor, to welcome you to Port Royal and Jamaica. But first, I'm sure you'll want to rest. I won't keep you."

  The news that there would be a supper distressed her, but she refused to show it. How would these people welcome her, consider what had happened, and that she wasn't an innocent any longer? Perhaps this wasn't the best idea, even if the admiral and his wife were prone to ignore the fact. They were kind, but perhaps she was not realistic thinking she could simply be reintroduced as if nothing had happened.

  With a smile, she took another sip of her coffee. It had been a while since she'd tasted good coffee. Pirates tended to prefer other beverages, and coffee was sold rather than consumed. Mostly she'd drunk water. At least there was enough water in the Caribbean. It rained often enough that it wasn't difficult to collect. The streams coming from the vegetated areas were also clean, serving sweet and clear water.

  "You are very kind offering me a room," Sarah said. Looking down at her dress, she was nowhere near finely attired enough for supper with an admiral and whatever company he chose to invite. The evening was bound to be mortifying. Mrs. McKenna followed her gaze down.

  "We must, of course, find something for you to wear. That will not be a problem, just let me search through what we have and I'm sure we'll find something suitable." She smiled. They really were generous opening their home to her and in providing her with the things she needed.

  At Mrs. McKenna’s call, Winnie returned and was asked to lead their guest upstairs to one of the spare bedrooms. She nodded and looked to Sarah, urging her to follow. She was taken to a large bedroom, again with an open window to let in the breeze. The room was well appointed, the new furniture made of the more exotic wood that could be found in the Caribbean.

  A tub was placed in the middle of the floor, and Winnie and another woman returned with wooden pails of water. Most of the water was cold, but a few buckets were hot, and she was grateful. The climate here was too warm for hot baths, so cool ones were more comfortable.

  Sarah wondered if she stunk. There was a good chance. Washing, beyond a quick clean with a cloth, had been risky business wher
e she'd been, and since she'd been bundled onto the ship last, she hadn’t had the opportunity.

  "I'll help you undress," the girl said.

  "No, that's alright; there's no need as this dress is simple and easy to take off. I don't require any assistance."

  The girl nodded and retreated from the room, closing the door behind her. It was strange seeing slaves again. In Isla Rosa, where escaped slaves made up a good proportion of the township, they were not the docile creatures one assumed. They were angry and ambitious, and as capable as anyone else. Pirates didn’t see inherencies in race or creed; capability was all that counted. It had caused her to question the things she'd just accepted and the inconsistencies that were glaring, both in terms of morals and scriptures. Slavery had no moral foundation, but was exclusively an economic one. These things she'd never questioned before listening to the uninhibited arguments in the tavern where she'd worked—discussions and topics not normally covered in front of cossetted gentlewomen.

  The things she had learned and observed also made her wonder about the nature of men—if the tendencies she'd observed were simply part of uncouth pirates, or whether they applied wider. She knew men, even in her own class, had vices—she'd never been privy to them, but she knew they existed.

  Walking over to the window, she looked outside, taking a deep breath. The whole set of uncertainties she'd felt a few days ago were now being replaced by a set of new ones. She didn't know how she felt about being here, even if it was nice to feel safe—it had been a long time since she'd felt safe. It wasn't something one immediately noticed every moment of the day, but the absence of that underlying fear was noticeable. She was alone and could relax. There was nothing for her to do right now other than to bathe and rest, maybe even get some sleep.