The Valkyrie Series: The First Fleet - (Books 1-3) Look Sharpe!, Ill Wind & Dead Reckoning: Caribbean Pirate Adventure

by Karen Perkins

  That wasn’t true—I’d think less of me if I didn’t learn how to fight back. I nodded at him. My nerves were about being alone with a half-naked pirate captain rather than firing the gun. I held my hand out. He cocked the gun fully and gave it to me, but kept his hand on mine. He moved to my side, still facing me, put his other hand on my left shoulder and leaned against me. I was very aware that only the thin material of my shirt separated our skins, and my breathing quickened. I tried to breathe deeply, but that only made it worse. I focused on the weapon in my—our—hand.

  “Hold your arm out to full stretch,” Leo murmured against my ear. I did as he asked, hardly aware of anything but him.

  “What are you aiming for?”

  My heart pounded, then I remembered I was supposed to be shooting at driftwood. I moved my arm to the right, even closer to Leo’s body, so I was pointing at my target. More or less.

  “That’s it, try and hold it still.”

  “It’s heavy,” I said, knowing full well that wasn’t the reason for my shaking barrel.

  “Take a breath.” I heard Leo do the same, lips against my ear as he looked down the barrel with me. “Hold it, then breathe out as you pull the trigger. Then breathe out as you pull the trigger,” he repeated. Oh yes, of course. I pulled the trigger, and banged my head against Leo’s.

  “Ay Caramba!” he said, laughing. “I forgot to warn you about the blowback. Well done.”

  “Did I hit it?”

  “Well, no, try again. See if you can load it yourself, and this time keep your eyes open, it may help!”

  I’d expected the gun to fire immediately the flint sparked, and I hadn’t been prepared for the enormous flash as the powder in the priming pan set off the main charge a moment later. For a second I’d been blinded.

  I tried again. Powder and patched shot. Ram home. Cock. Aim.

  “Pan.”

  “What? Oh yes.” I’d forgotten to fill the priming pan; my shot wouldn’t fire without that. I carefully filled the small pan and pulled the flintlock to full-cock. I held it at full stretch, away from my face (my hand not trembling nearly so much now that Leo had stepped back), and fired. Sand kicked up just to the right of my target.

  “Good shot!” Leo exclaimed.

  “But I missed.”

  “Only just—they’re not that accurate you know. If that log had been a man you’d have aimed for his heart and got his shoulder—that’s enough to stop him. Hopefully.”

  “So I can join the next raid?”

  “Well, if you practice, we’ll see.”

  “What kind of answer is that?”

  “A cautious one. Time for one more, then we need to get back to Freedom.”

  I turned to him, basking in his praise and attention, and he lifted his hand to my face. I jerked my head away and stepped back, then immediately realized by the look on his face that I’d misunderstood. He’d been trying to caress, not hit me. He looked shocked, then cold, and turned away from me.

  “On second thoughts, we should get back to the ship, the tide’s coming in and the wind’s getting up. I need to make sure she’s secure.”

  Chapter 45

  GABRIELLA

  20th May 1686

  Three Leagues East of La Isla Magdalena

  “Gabriella, I don’t suppose there’s any point in asking you to shelter in the cabin?” Leo asked as he passed.

  “None at all,” I said cheerfully. I had just come out of the cabin where Klara was suffering from seasickness. She did not like storms and had told me in no uncertain terms to get out and leave her alone. I was happy to oblige. If I stayed any longer in there with that smell, I would have been throwing up in sympathy. Anyway I wanted to be on deck, storm or no storm.

  “Well, in that case, go forward and give them a hand hauling those clew lines, it’ll free up another hand to go aloft. It looks like things are going to get interesting, I love a good storm!”

  He strode down the steps to the quarterdeck, shouting orders as he went, and I stared after him in frustration. Since that day on the beach at La Isla Magdalena a month ago he had treated me as just another member of the crew. I was furious with myself, I had not really thought he would harm me, but I suppose the adage was true—old habits really did die hard. I had been thinking about the pistol and he had taken me by surprise, but surely he knew it was not him that I had shied away from? And was that really enough to put him off? I stared after him in frustration and for a moment almost hated him for turning his back on me. I had hoped he would try and kiss me again, but that seemed an impossibility now. I ran past him to help my crewmates.

  My excitement grew with the increase in the wind and I caught hold of the end of the rope on the maindeck that Leo had pointed out. Jean-Claude and Jimmy were already swigging on it—grabbing hold when standing then dropping down to a crouch—and I helped Carlos drag the slack they created through the block to make it fast around the belaying pin. They were singing their rhythm and obviously knew their shanty well. I found it strangely hypnotic and watched the sail far above me shake out its wind whilst my body did the work.

  I was still trying to memorize what all the running rigging did and I watched the highest sail on the mainmast fold up on itself as we hauled. Each heave brought the bottom corners of the sail up toward the yard over which half a dozen men were lying in wait to grasp and tame it in the increasing wind. It was hard to keep my eye on them with the mast swaying around so much, but I watched open-mouthed as strong, leathery hands dragged up the center of the sail to make it fast, thinking they must have claws on those hands instead of fingers. I looked at my own ravaged hands and realized they still had a lot of hardening up to do.

  “Are you helping or watching, lovey? ’Cause if it’s a show you’re wanting, you’d best get out of our way, we’ve a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it in!”

  Jimmy had a point; if I was going to help, I had better get on with it. I ran forward to where Jean-Claude and Feliciano were now heaving on lines to knock the wind out of the fore-topsail, and I arrived just in time to grab the end of that sail’s clewline and start heaving. Within minutes, all I was aware of was pain: the pain of the rope around my hand and the pain in my back and shoulders; even my legs hurt from bracing my weight on the deck.

  “Let go, lovey! Let go!” I looked up at Jimmy in surprise. “Don’t ever wrap the line around your hand like that! If it slips it’ll haul your hand through the block and take it off. Do it like this!”

  I twirled my hand to release the rope, eyeing the block in dread—would it really take my hand off? I grabbed hold again, this time clutching a single turn and kept my hand square to the line to give me some purchase. I nodded my thanks to Jimmy and hauled.

  *

  Half an hour later, sea and wind had both picked up and every third wave or so broke over the decks, leaving us waist-high in water until it drained through the scuppers and the next one thundered down on us. I felt like a pebble stuck in the rapids of a fast-flowing river as the rush of water swept my legs away again and I crashed into Jimmy, knocking him down as well.

  “Get aft! Get aft!” Jimmy shouted at me. “We’ve one hand for the ship and one for ourselves—nobody’s got none for you. You’re in the way now, get yourself abaft!”

  I was overwhelmed enough that I did not need telling twice and inched my way along the starboard bulwark to the aft of the ship, making sure I had something to hold onto and ducking down for shelter when the waves crashed into us. My feet were swept away again, more than once, but I fought the force of the water and hung on tight, dangling from shrouds, ratlins or anything else handy, but still with the ship. I noticed in disbelief that the men in the masts were still there; still handing sails; still being flung about left, right and center. My eyes were blinded by salt water again and I was reminded of my first night aboard—had I really thought we were sinking? That had been nothing compared to this.

  I heard another voice close by and felt a strong hand gr
ab my upper arm, but I could not see or hear who it was. I was dragged further aft where, thank God, or Neptune or whoever was in charge of the winds, I recognized my captor as Leo. I had feared it was Newton and that he would give me a helping hand overboard. I sagged in relief, but fell to the deck yet again when Leo let go of me and ran forward.

  Annoyed at being abandoned so suddenly, I opened my mouth to protest, only to spit out seawater. I fumbled my way back, past the tiller with Mr. Davys and Mr. Frazer, his crutches abandoned, hanging onto it for dear life. I wondered briefly who was steering whom?

  I reached the cabins and braced myself against their wall, hanging onto the steps leading up to the poopdeck. I still did not know why Leo had dropped me and was angry when I saw him emerge out of the spray. He came closer and I turned my back to the wind and the driving waves to berate him, but his expression stopped me. What would shock this man so much on his own decks?

  Chapter 46

  LEO

  “Bear up! Get her head to wind!

  “Watch those sheets, if we’re caught aback in this, we’ll spring the masts!”

  Even as I shouted orders I knew he was gone. The waves were so big I’d lost sight of him almost immediately, but we had to try. Freedom was slowing, but it would take half an hour to wear her round and back to where he’d gone into the water. Jimmy’s only hope was the longboat.

  At least it was already in the water, being towed behind us. Thomas and a few others brought it alongside, despite the conditions, and climbed down into the tiny bucking boat.

  “What happened? Did you see?” I asked Newton, who was also leaning over the rail and trying to spot our shipmate.

  “I don’t know. I think he was in the way of that last wave, it must have knocked the pegleg from under him and carried him over.”

  I nodded. The hardest thing about sailing through a storm was the enormous waves that broke over the decks. Jimmy wasn’t the first sailor to be caught out, and neither would he be the last. We’d all heard the tales of ships that had lost an entire watch overboard in a heavy, gale-whipped swell.

  I left Newton and went aft. Gabriella was still on deck; at least she hadn’t been the one to go over. I was surprised at the stab of relief I felt and was immediately ashamed.

  “What’s happened? Why aren’t we sailing?” she asked as soon as I got close enough to read her lips. I grabbed her arms and told her, “It’s Jimmy, he’s been swept overboard. He’s gone.”

  I looked at her, her hair plastered to her face and her shirt soaked through and stuck to her skin. I was overtaken with desire and worry for her. What had I been thinking, bringing her aboard? She’d tried to pull away again when I’d grabbed her, and I realized she still kept her distance from the men and kept looking about her—checking for ways of escape? She shied away if my approach took her by surprise, and I couldn’t forget the look of fear in her eyes on that beach when I’d moved to kiss her. Do I frighten her so much? I wanted to kill the man who’d done this to her—turned her into a frightened mouse. Although she was the most headstrong, wilful and plain disobedient mouse I’d ever met.

  And now one of my crew was dead—another death that was on my hands as captain—and all I could think was how, despite my frustration, I’d never admired anyone so much for the way she held onto her strength through her fear. I was frightened by how much I wanted to hold this woman, to hang onto her and make sure she’d always be safe—yet I’d brought her to this most dangerous life. I’d most likely do worse than her husband and get her killed. I couldn’t let another love die.

  “You don’t need to be out here, get into the cabin. I need to concentrate on finding Jimmy—I can’t have you out here distracting me.” I half-dragged her to the door of the chartroom despite her protests, and tried to ignore the injured look on her face before I turned away. This wasn’t the time to pay attention to my heart—I needed her to be safe.

  I grabbed my glass from inside and went back out. I could see the longboat, although it was obscured by the water in the troughs. I couldn’t see Jimmy, and the weather was worsening. If I wasn’t careful I’d lose the men in the longboat too, but could only wait for them to give up the search and return to the ship.

  “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

  I jumped. Gabriella had disobeyed me yet again, and had joined me at the rail.

  “Yes. I thought I told you to stay inside.”

  “I decided not to.”

  “You realize that’s mutiny?”

  “Is it?”

  “I could hang you from the yards for mutiny.”

  “But you won’t.”

  “No.”

  What if it had been her? That was all I could think. What if it had been her?

  *

  We searched for hours, even though after only a few minutes we all knew we’d only been looking for a body. Eventually the longboat and her defeated men returned to Freedom, without even a pegleg to show for their labors.

  We sailed on.

  Chapter 47

  GABRIELLA

  We were back on the sands of La Isla Magdalena, but this time there was no treasure shanty. There was no singing or laughter at all. We had some damage to the rigging from the storm to repair and a shipmate to send off—his spirit, anyway. Neptune, or Leo’s San Antonio, had already taken his body. I was more disturbed than I’d expected over Jimmy’s death—it wasn’t as if he’d been particularly welcoming or even nice to me. He’d rescued Klara and me that time from Newton and the others’ attentions, but had only complained since. Now there’d be no more of his moaning, no more berating, and no more of his stamping about the decks. I realized I’d miss him.

  I knew I was probably jumping to conclusions, but what if he’d been right? What if I had brought trouble down on him? I couldn’t quite shake the suspicion that Newton, Smith or Ime had helped him overboard. But a suspicion was all it was. I was probably wrong; they were shipmates after all. I had neither proof nor certainty, and they didn’t seem to be reacting to the accident any differently than the others. Yes, it was nonsense. It must be, although the smirk Newton habitually used instead of a smile kept me wondering. I knew he hadn’t forgotten that day below decks, and I knew it was only Leo’s threats that kept Klara and me safe from him. I shuddered. I wouldn’t put it past him to have taken revenge that way.

  I was more concerned about Leo. I’d thought we were getting close again and I’d enjoyed his attention the last time we were on this beach over a month ago. Since Jimmy’s accident, though, we could hardly sustain a conversation, and he’d never shown any more inclination to try. He was cold, yet not rude; considerate, yet not friendly; and now he was more distant than ever. I told myself it was because of Jimmy. I knew he blamed himself, as he would for the death of anyone on his ship, and I hoped he just needed time. I tried to understand, but didn’t. I was shocked at losing Jimmy so suddenly, but that shock quickly turned into a desire to live more; to make the most of each day just in case it was the last. Only the man who was the most important part of my day was staying out of my way.

  I went to find the ship’s sailmaker, George. We’d ripped a couple of sails when we wore round to search for Jimmy, and I knew he had a lot of repairs to get through. Despite it being very different from the embroidery I’d done before I came to sea, I found working on the sails relaxing and I took a great deal of satisfaction from forcing the big needle through canvas. I could tuck myself out of the way with the sail, needle and leather palm, and use the monotony of the task to watch my fellow crewmates at work. More than once I saw Leo start when he caught my eye and walk quickly away.

  A wake for Jimmy was planned for the evening, and I hoped Leo would get back to normal afterwards. The rest of the ship too—everyone seemed quiet and irritable at this reminder of the risks we each took every day we were afloat.

  *

  Klara and I hadn’t known Jimmy as well as everyone else aboard, we’d only been with them six weeks or so and, as usual, we tried to
stay out of their way as they made their preparations. Another large fire took shape on the beach—there was always plenty of driftwood available in these waters—and casks were dragged out onto deck to serve as stools. The sunset behind the backdrop of large clouds was almost as spectacular as the dawn the last time we were here, and the whole world seemed bathed with fire; it was somehow very apt for a goodbye.

  “Come on, lass.” Mr. Gaunt had spotted me at the break of the poop, huddled against the cabin bulkhead with Klara. “He were thy crewmate an’all, and he took to thee more than he did the rest of us.”

  He laughed at my look of surprise. “He weren’t one for showing his softer side, I knows that, but he did have a soft spot for thee, lass.”

  “Soft spot! He suffered me, he certainly didn’t welcome me!”

  “Aye. He didn’t suffer anyone he didn’t like.”

  I smiled at him, not sure if he was just trying to make me feel more included, but we walked with him to the huddle of men and rum punch on the maindeck.

  “The captain has a soft spot too, he’ll come round.”

  I looked sharply at him, but he’d moved to speak to Carlos who seemed to be guarding the rum tonight. I didn’t get a chance to ask him to expand on what he’d said. He handed us beakers of rum punch, and I noticed Klara smirk, but before she could say anything, Leo stood up and everyone hushed.

  “Jimmy was a hard man to get to know, and a harder one to like, but he was part of this ship and this crew and a valuable part at that.”

  “Aye, when he wasn’t croaking about summat or other!”

  I didn’t see who shouted out, but I did recognize there was no malice in what was said. I was surprised at Leo’s words as well, but this seemed to be the way these men grieved: with honesty.