The Blue Diamond (The Razor's Edge Book 1)

by P. S. Bartlett

  Ivory coughed and choked until she spewed a combination of eggs and tea across the table and rose to her feet, hunched over and gagging. Carbonale leapt from his chair and began patting her hard on her back. Zara dashed into the room, handed her a glass of water, and together they lowered her back into her chair.

  “You…you bastard!”

  “I told you, I am completely legitimate. Now, with said fifty thousand pounds, I can promote Master Green for a vote to Captain of my ship, Le Chat Noir, and retire a wealthy and free man.”

  Ivory’s only response was a cough-ridden bitter and contemptuous laugh.

  “Oh, yes! I can assure you, I’ve already made arrangements to turn you over next week in Nassau. They have no desire to take you back to England for a trial. They’ll try you there, and please don’t worry; they rarely desire the hanging of women. However, they have been known to make an exception now and then,” he said, rising from his chair, blotting his mouth with his napkin, and turning his back to her as he walked away.

  Zara stood at Ivory’s back with her hand on her shoulder as she still struggled to catch her breath. “You won’t get away with this, Blacksnake.” Ivory had no sooner set the words free when she heard the loud crack of a whip and, simultaneously, a lock of her white hair fell into her lap.

  “Do you know how I got the name Blacksnake?”

  Ivory shook her head. Her hands clenched on the arms of her chair until her burned red knuckles grew white. He walked slowly towards her, looking down and winding his lash loop over loop in his hands. Zara squeezed her shoulder tighter in warning with every step he took in their direction. “Well, you do now,” he said though his teeth. “Roman!”

  “Yes, Captain?” Roman answered, rushing in from the veranda.

  “Please escort Captain Ivory back to her room, and Zara, tend to Lasher until I return.

  Chapter Four

  “Keara! Find Miranda and meet me up at the house!” Cassandra shouted from the beach.

  “What is it?” Keara shouted back, pulling the seining net along the shallows in the evening sun.

  “I’ve word of Ivory! She’s alive!”

  Keara Shepard dropped the net into the water. She ran through the surf and up the beach, through the tents and into the camp, searching for Miranda. She called out to her over and over again, when a young boy asked, “Ye lookin’ fer Miranda?”

  “Why no, boy, whatever gave you that idea?” Keara asked, leaning over him with her hands on her hips. Her skirt was still tied up at her waist, and at only five feet tall in her bare feet she barely stood an inch taller than the lad.

  “Follow me, ma’am,” the boy said as he dashed off towards the center of the colony, leading Keara among the dilapidated structures towards the pub. “She’s in there,” he said, pointing his thumb at the open doors.

  Keara wiped the sand from her bare feet on the doorstep and walked inside. She looked around, but Miranda was nowhere to be seen. She untied her skirt and shook it loose, fussed at her hair a bit, and walked up to the bartender.

  “Miranda?”

  The bartender looked over his shoulder and up the stairs, raising an eyebrow.

  “I should have known,” Keara sighed, heading for the steps.

  “I should warn ye, lass, they’ve only been up there fer a few minutes. She’s not gonna be happy to be dragged out from under ‘im so soon!” the bartender shouted, causing the patrons to erupt in laughter. Keara shook her head and, with a stomp, she raced up the stairs and down the hall to Miranda’s favorite room and knocked on the door.

  “Miranda, can you come out here, please?”

  “She’s not here!” shot back the familiar voice of Tommy Boston, the carpenter on her sloop.

  “Miranda, could you come to the door, please…just for a moment. And Tommy, need I remind you to whom you are speaking?”

  “Sorry, Master Shepard…but…we’re kinda... I’m sure…you…understand…” he panted. Keara could hear the moans and sighs of Miranda, as well as the banging bed.

  “That does it,” Keara mumbled, pulling her pocket pistol from the waist of her skirt, firing at the lock, and then kicking the door wide open with a second bang.

  “Dammit, Keara! You could have killed him!

  “Well, I didn’t. Now let’s go,” she said, waving the pistol towards the door.

  “We only needed a few…more…minutes,” Miranda shouted, as Tommy continued on his way to his destination, his bare derriere smiling up at Keara.

  “Oh, for the love a’ Christ! Can you just get it over with already, Tommy? I suppose he had something to tell you, aye?” Keara said, turning her back to the spectacle.

  Just then, Tommy let out a noise that sounded something like a dog that just had his paw stepped on. He fell atop Miranda, sweating and panting like an injured pup.

  “Okay, Miranda let’s go.”

  “Well, can you help me here?” Miranda cried out and laughed, pointing to the rather muscular and tan slab of sweaty, male flesh now plastered against her naked body. Keara stomped to the side of the bed, and with a roundhouse slap on his fine pirate ass, brought Tommy back to his senses and to his feet all in one whack.

  “Whatcha do that for?” he whined, covering his still happy man parts with his hands and turning his back. Miranda roared with laughter at the sight of Keara’s tiny hand print rising on Tommy’s right ass cheek.

  “Now you’re modest. Come on, woman, get dressed. Cass has word of Ivory. She’s alive.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place? And by the way, he did have a few things to tell me. However some things I keep to myself!” Miranda yelled, scrambling into her clothes and tossing Tommy his as she sorted through the garment heap on the floor.

  “Come on. You can pick this up later, after we find out what Cass knows, and what we’re going to do about it.”

  Miranda pulled on her boots and sauntered over to Tommy. She stood behind him, running her hands across his broad, thick shoulders and down over the front of his chest. “See you tonight, Tommy-boy?”

  He turned and pulled her into his lap, pressed a hard, wet kiss onto her mouth, and then slung her back to her feet. “What do you think?” He winked, swatting at her backside as she giggled.

  “Oh, God, that’s quite enough,” Keara said, grabbing her cousin by the arm and pulling her along out of the room.

  “Why do you have to be so mean?”

  “I’m not mean, Mir! If I was mean I would have slapped him before he finished,” Keara said as they both broke into laughter.

  “I think I have a new name for my Tommy-boy,” Miranda whispered to Keara, as they strolled arm in arm through the pub, “Tommy the Rabbit,” she giggled.

  “Come back anytime, Miranda!” shouted the bartender.

  “Like she needs an invitation!” Keara shouted back, pushing Miranda out the door.

  They hit the sand running and burst through the door of the cottage they’d shared with Cassandra and Ivory since they’d all arrived in Port Royal from Charles Towne.

  The cousins had come to the colonies as children aboard a ship from England in 1698. They settled with their wealthy great-aunt and great-uncle on their sprawling estate, until a Spanish raid left them homeless and penniless, as well as orphaned. Their elders were struck down during the raid trying to protect them. A mere three months after they had arrived in America, all of their parents were lost at sea on their way to join them.

  Throughout their teenage years, the young cousins were forced to work long, hard hours in wealthy households for little pay, refusing to take the road down to the easy dollar for fear of finding themselves lost forever.

  Their bond was as strong as they were. By the time they’d reached their late teens, they’d saved enough money among them to purchase a piece of land and a small home of their own, and had all but forgotten the night of the raid. They farmed and raised chickens, selling the eggs and vegetables at a roadside stand, as well as at the open market. They m
anaged to carve out a decent living for themselves; until the day the pirates showed up. Unfortunately, that was a memory that burned like an eternal flame and ignited each day that followed.

  * * * *

  “We don’t have anything of value but ourselves,” Miranda said from the porch, as she tapped lightly on the front door and ducked down behind the railing.

  “Miranda, what’s going on?” said Cass when she opened the front door. She looked toward the sunset and saw six male silhouettes coming from the direction of the river, each carrying a blade of some sort. Their faces weren’t visible, but she could plainly see that all were intent on some ravenous and bloody mayhem.

  “Get back inside and put out the lanterns and candles. And for God’s sakes, that blunderbuss better be loaded!” Miranda ordered.

  Cass drew up her skirt and ran back into the house, gathering up anything they could use in defense. After the Spanish raid, knowing how vulnerable they were away from the peninsula which was fortified and protected from such invasions, they’d made sure to arm themselves as well. Keara flew into the front room from the kitchen with a wooden box and flipped open the lid, exposing half a dozen blades. They reached in, took two each, and barricaded the front door with a heavy sideboard.

  It was the golden age of piracy in the world, and Charles Towne was not immune to their brutal pillaging, among other horrors. However, knowing the dangers that four young women alone could inevitably face, they’d painstakingly prepared themselves, and weren’t about to go down without a fight. On this evening, just before twilight, their fates were sealed.

  “Where’s Ivory?” Miranda gasped, looking over at her cousins at the ready, one crouched at each window.

  “Dammit to hell! She went down to the river for water for the chickens about a half hour ago,” Keara whispered. “She’s still out there—alone.”

  “Wait, her razor wasn’t in the box. She must have it with her,” Cass said, never taking her eyes from the window.

  “Of course she does. She never leaves the house without it,” Keara commented, and then hushed the girls and slid the blunderbuss through the open window, resting it on the ledge.

  The pirates were loud and howling like wolves, causing the girls to tremble and eye each other with terror. Keara nearly dropped the gun and then took a deep breath, turning the barrel in the direction of the approaching men. Cass held her pistol at her side, and as the hoots and howls drew nearer, she heard the picket gate kick open. She stood with her back against the wall next to the front door and slowly raised the heavy weapon until it was level with her own head, pointing it straight at the door.

  “We know yer in there! We seen the light all the way from the riverbank!”

  The girls held their breath and not a muscle or strand of hair strayed from its frozen place. Cass glanced to her right at Keara and mouthed to her, “Don’t shoot until I say so.”

  They listened as the weighty boots pounded the porch boards, and once Cass was satisfied that all of the men were now upon them, she motioned to Keara to fire. The screams of the pirates were more terrifying and deafening than their howls as they were splattered with tacks, nails, broken glass and any other sharp object that Keara could cram into that barrel. Cass joined her with the pistol, firing into the night.

  “You got ‘em,” Miranda whispered. She drew aside the curtain and was peeking out to see the damage done, when a thick, bloody arm reached in, snatched her by her hair, and pulled her out of the window.

  Keara was lying on her back on the floor, having been slammed in the shoulder by the kick back of the gun. She rolled back and forth, holding her arm, when Cass rushed over, grabbing her under her arms and yanking her to her feet, “Get up! One of ‘em has Miranda!”

  Cass pushed the sideboard over to open the front door, finding four of the men, either dead or dying, at her doorstep. It was nearly dark, and she stopped for a moment to allow her eyes to adjust. She had just raised the pistol and stepped to her right, when she heard her cousin’s screams coming from the side of the house. She leapt over the bloody body of the dying pirate before her and raced down the steps.

  “Keara, watch them!” she shouted. In the darkness, she came upon Miranda, with that same bloody arm pulled tightly around her neck and a dirk pointed at her side. The man was enormous and stood at least a foot over Miranda’s head. His arm looked like the low, thick branch of a tree covered in sap in the now risen moonlight.

  “Cass, stop…he’ll kill me.”

  “Not before I splatter his tiny brains all over the yard, he won’t.”

  A moment later, the tree branch fell as if struck by lightning, and Miranda ran towards Cass shouting, “Shoot him! Shoot him now!” But when Cass raised the pistol to fire, the man already lay on his back on the ground. Bent over his slit throat was Ivory, wiping her razor on his shirt.

  “Is everyone accounted for?” she asked as she stood and folded the razor in her hand.

  “Wait, weren’t there six of them?” Keara asked, looking in every direction. “Let’s get back in the house and figure out what to do.”

  “I saw Mister Six take off for the riverbank. From the looks of him, he was hit, but obviously not as bad off as this bunch,” Ivory stated upon seeing the rest of the damage littering the front porch. “Cass, help me with these bodies.”

  “Ivory, I think it’s best if we regroup inside and put together some sort of plan.”

  “A plan, Cass? How do you plan on explaining to the next wave of pirates how their mates ended up dead on our property?”

  “We stood our ground tonight, and we’ll keep standing our ground until…”

  “Until when? The Carolinas run out of pirates?”

  Cass stood silent for a few moments, as Keara and Miranda looked on in the darkness, and then said, “What say you two? Should we call a vote or something?”

  “Vote all you want. I’m dragging these bastards to the river, rowing them out to the current, weighing them down, and letting them go.” Ivory had grown into a hard-headed, strong-willed young woman, and her survival instinct probably outweighed every other instinct she had.

  “Well, I guess that’s settled then,” Cass said as she brushed her hands together. “Miranda, go to the shed and get the rope. Keara, grab an arm.” Cass realized Ivory was right. This wasn’t about how much corn to plant or how to keep foxes out of the henhouse. These were dead pirates, and sooner or later someone was going to come looking for them.

  “It’s a shame. This one was very handsome,” Miranda commented nudging one of the men with her boot.

  One by one, they dragged the blood-stained and lifeless bodies of the men down to the river bank and tied their legs together at the ankles. Ivory and Cass climbed into the rowboat and pulled them along through the water. They weighed them down with the heaviest rocks they could find, and then they cut them loose. The water was black and murky from the previous day’s rain, which helped shroud the bodies and relieved some of the angst of their deed. The bodies disappeared quickly below the surface and were soon out of sight.

  There were about two hours left of night when they’d finally completed their task. They bathed themselves in the river and huddled together around a small fire in the parlor, drying and warming their ice cold stares. “Someone please say something before I vomit,” Keara whispered, shivering beneath her blanket.

  “We had no choice. They gave us…no choice,” Cass answered, putting her arm around Keara’s shoulder.

  “I pulled the trigger. I murdered those men,” Keara murmured, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping the blanket around them.

  “We both pulled triggers,” Cass shot back at her.

  “But we’ve never killed anyone before,” Miranda said, leaning over on Cass’s other shoulder—the flame dancing in her eyes.

  There was no sound but for the crackling fire for several moments, when Ivory rose to her feet and dropped her blanket. She stood there in her bloomers and bodice looking down into the f
ireplace, her white undergarments glowing orange as the light and shadows from the flames danced over her. Then, she walked into the kitchen and pulled an unopened bottle of rum from the cabinet. She took four glasses and lined them up on the table, filling each one about a half an inch deep, and called them all to join her. Once assembled, they each picked up a glass and raised it into the air. Just as they were about to tap the glasses together, Cass finally spoke, “I have.”

  “Have what?” Miranda asked.

  “Killed.”

  “Who? Wh…when?” Keara sputtered.

  “It doesn’t matter. That’s behind us now. I’m sorry I told you. Now, drink.”

  Both Miranda and Keara stared at their cousin, while Ivory’s eyes wandered into the darkness.

  Chapter Five

  “So, what’s the news? Where is she?” Keara asked, rushing into the dining room and finding Cass going over maps with their navigator, James Roberts. They both looked up at her, and Roberts nodded.

  “The Blue Diamond was sacked. According to the debris and the direction from which it’s been coming, we place her within this general area,” Roberts said, circling an area on the map.

  “That’s twenty miles, James! Any survivors?” asked Keara as she poured a glass of water.

  “Oh yes, nearly the entire crew was taken aboard one of the sloops who attacked. The crew was marooned on a sandbar ten miles from here. I’ll have something stronger if you’re pouring.”

  “Well, where are they? And more importantly, where is Ivory? I’ll have one, too, Ke…I mean, if you don’t mind,” Miranda added, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

  “That’s the problem. She wasn’t on the sandbar, and several of the crew claimed she refused to leave the ship,” Cass remarked, and then held her glass out as well.

  “So are you saying that we still don’t know where she is?” Keara asked.

  Roberts went on to say, “Well, that’s not necessarily true. We received some information that a longboat was taken in and the ship who took it from the sea anchored in Kingston. A woman was said to have been carried away, up the beach to the home of none other than Maddox Carbonale, also known as…”