Pirates of the Storm (Stranded In Time Book 1)

by Fletcher Best

  “Yes,” Jeff replied.

  Harrison tossed the piece of wood over the rail. “Fire at will,” he said to Jeff. Jeff cocked the weapon and took aim as best he could as the ship was quickly moving away from the piece of wood. He fired and saw the shot strike the water about 6 inches from the target. “Good enough,” Harrison nodded with approval. “That concludes yer training fer today, Mr. Greene. Come with me and I shall show ye the armory so ye can choose a sword o’ yer own.”

  Jeff followed Harrison below deck and into the cargo hold. Just inside the door was an ornate carved-wood armoire that looked more like it should be in a women’s boutique than on board a pirate ship. Harrison swung open the doors to reveal several swords hanging from hooks. “Choose,” Harrison said. Jeff looked at the swords and chose one similar in style to the one he’d been practicing with all day. As he held it, he could tell it was indeed very similar to his training sword and decided it was his best option. “A fine sword,” Harrison nodded.

  “Ye won’t be needin’ to carry a pistol, but if ye ever need to defend the ship, ye can find the guns here,” the pirate said, sliding open the top drawer in the base of the armoire. Several pistols of varying sizes were lying in the drawer wrapped in greasy rags along with several pouches of powder and ammunition. “All o’ the guns be loaded and ready to fire except for the flint. There’s additional powder and shot in the bottom drawer and there are rifles in this box,” Harrison said leaning over a long wooden box, opening it briefly to display the guns. “Leave the long guns for the better marksmen unless ye be the last line o’ defense. They load the same as the pistols, but ye use the larger powder horns,” he said pulling a rifle from the box. Harrison showed Jeff the procedure for loading the rifle and then set the gun back in the box and closed the lid. “Ye savvy?”

  “Yes,” Jeff said nodding.

  “Good. Practice with yer sword as often as ye can. Ye can call on any member o’ the crew when they not be otherwise busy.”

  Jeff rubbed his shoulder which was now aching pretty badly from all the day’s activity. “Yer arm be hurtin’?” Harrison asked.

  “Yes, it’s just sore from all the swordplay,” Jeff replied. Harrison beckoned Jeff to follow him and lead him into the crew’s quarters. Harrison walked over to his bunk and slid a wooden box from underneath it. He pulled out a small metal canister and opened it. Immediately a strong scent filled the air that smelled like spices mixed with manure. Jeff had grown accustomed to the ever present stench of his surroundings, but this took things to a whole new level.

  Before Jeff could say anything, Harrison stuck his hand in the canister and then slid it under the collar of Jeff’s shirt and began massaging the foul smelling salve into his shoulder. Jeff’s skin quickly became numb and tingly as Harrison explained, “Got this in Jamaica. Natives make it and say it cure whatever ails ye.”

  “Thanks,” Jeff said, trying not to gag from the smell, “But it’s my other shoulder that hurts!”

  Harrison stopped rubbing and nodded. “Aye!” he said shaking his head at himself and sliding his hand in the canister once more. He applied the salve to the correct shoulder this time, and Jeff’s shoulder started to ease almost immediately. The smell was awful, but at least the stuff worked, which was more than he could say for a lot of things he had tried in his life.

  The two men headed back out on deck. By now the sun was starting to drop in the sky. Jeff looked to the helm and saw that Crabtree had relieved the Captain from the wheel. Just then, the Captain stepped out of his cabin. “Ah, Mr. Greene, do join me. Mr. Robinson shall be serving the evening meal shortly.”

  Jeff thanked Harrison for his lessons and his salve and walked over to the Captain. “Good God, man!” the Captain exclaimed. “Don’t tell me… Mr. Harrison’s healing salve. I should ban him from ever bringing that vile substance on this ship again!”

  Jeff laughed, “Yes, it smells horrible, but I must say it has made my shoulder feel a lot better.”

  “Very well, do come in, but please don’t sit too close,” the Captain said with a chuckle.

  The two men took their seats at the table. “Tomorrow, Mr. Greene, we shall meet up with two of our partner ships in the Brethren of the Coast and we shall prepare for our first raid on a Spanish settlement known as Cabra Cachonda. The governor of the settlement is a Spanish noble who has a reputation for enjoying the finer things in life and we intend to enjoy them as well. Word is that the settlers make some rather fine rum and the men of the garrison there are rather fond of it, so they are not the best guards. With a little luck, we should be able to get in and out without blood on either side.”

  Jeff nodded, “It’s interesting to me that you seem to avoid violence when you can, Captain. In my day, the reputation of pirates is that they were bloodthirsty murderers and rapists.”

  “Aye,” Coxen nodded. “There certainly are those in my profession who have a taste for blood and mayhem. In my younger days, I did as well. But I see myself as a businessman now. Violence is sometimes necessary, but it reduces profits. Those who rape and pillage inevitably gain a reputation for such and they meet much more resistance from the settlers themselves than we do. We have a reputation for attacking only the governors and their military guards. We avoid harming or stealing from the settlers for the most part, so they do not fight us. Those who pillage indiscriminately are fools. The settlers have little to take besides perhaps their women, but friendly wenches are readily available in any port. It makes no sense to provoke the settlers to fight when there is so little for us to gain by it.”

  “Makes sense to me,” Jeff agreed.

  Just then, there was a knock at the door. “Enter,” the Captain responded.

  Robinson came in carrying a pot of stew and eating utensils for the two men. As she set the food on the table, she winced. “Oh no! Harrison’s salve?” she asked, holding her nose.

  “Aye,” the Captain nodded.

  “Will you be moving to a bunk not so close to mine tonight, Mr. Greene?” she asked hopefully.

  “Aww!” Jeff exclaimed. “Don’t you like me anymore?”

  “You I like,” she replied, “But that horrid salve will quickly make me forget that!”

  “I’ll try to get at least most of it off before I bunk down tonight,” Jeff said.

  “See that you do!” Robinson exclaimed nasally, still holding her nose as she exited the cabin.

  “So turtle stew, eh?” Jeff said eyeing the pot with some reservation.

  “It is one of Robinson’s specialties,” said Coxen as he ladled some into his bowl.

  “It just seems wrong to be eating sea turtle. They’re an endangered species in my time,” Jeff explained.

  “Well, Mr. Greene, they are plentiful now and they make for a splendid stew. Try some!”

  Jeff served himself a bowl and cautiously took a bite. “I have to admit it is pretty good.”

  The two men ate hungrily and washed the stew down with mugs of rum before the Captain brought out his pipes for a smoke. Jeff was now comfortable with the process and although he didn’t really enjoy the taste of the smoke, on this occasion the smell of it was a welcome cover up for the smell of Harrison’s salve. The Captain shared a few tales of previous raids as they smoked, and although the thought of getting back to his own time was always in the back of his mind, Jeff was thankful to have met up with the Captain and his crew. As they finished their pipes, the Captain turned to Jeff and said, “I should take my leave of you now, Mr. Greene. I need to catch a few winks of sleep before I relieve Mr. Crabtree at the wheel.”

  Jeff nodded and stood up. “Until tomorrow, then, Captain. Good night.”

  “Good night, Mr. Greene.”

  Jeff stepped out on the deck and a cool breeze hit his face. It was now fully dark and for a moment Jeff stared up at the moon and stars that shone bright in the blackness. “I have a gift for you, Mr. Greene,” Jenny said as she approached with a bucket and rag in hand. “Actually it’s more of a gift f
or me and the rest of the crew,” she said, handing him the bucket.

  Jeff chuckled as he accepted the gift. “I can take a hint. I’ll wash off the salve.” Jeff pulled off his shirt and noticed the blood on it from where he had wiped his face after Harrison’s sword lesson. As he dipped the rag in the water, Jeff said, “Could I trouble you for a slice of lime? As much as I know it will hurt, I probably should try to disinfect the cut on my nose.” Jenny nodded.

  “I’ll get you a piece of lime while you scrub yourself. Do a good job won’t you?” she said as she headed for the galley.

  Jeff washed his shoulders thoroughly and although the salve had done its job, he was relieved to get rid of the smell. As he finished, Jenny returned. “Your lime, Mr. Greene.”

  “Thanks. Here goes nothing…” Jeff squeezed and rubbed the lime on his nose. “Ahhh!” he exclaimed as the acidic juice made its way into the cut. “Wow! That sucks even worse than I thought it would!”

  “Sucks?” Jenny inquired.

  “That’s an expression from my time. It means it’s unpleasant.”

  Jenny looked around and leaned toward him so as not to be overheard, “Strange, ‘sucks’ means something quite different in our time. Perhaps sometime I can demonstrate…”

  “That’s a different kind of suck!” Jeff replied in a hushed tone, “And you’re a terrible tease!”

  “Actually, I rather think I’m quite a good tease,” Jenny whispered before stepping back. “That’s better then,” she said resuming her normal voice. “We’ll all sleep better without that foul salve stinking up the cabin,” she said before taking back the bucket and rag and departing below deck.

  Jeff leaned up against the rail and looked up at the sky once more. ‘Mr. Robinson’ definitely knew how to get under his skin. He didn’t want to get too attached to her in the event that he did get the opportunity to get back to his own time, but it was becoming difficult to keep his developing feelings for her at bay. After a few minutes of enjoying the night sky, he decided it was time to try to get some sleep. As he entered the cabin, many of the men were already in their bunks and several were snoring. Jenny was lying on her bunk facing his as he laid down. She smiled at him in the dim light and he smiled back. “Sleep well, Mr. Greene.”

  “Sleep well, Je… Robinson!”

  “Shut yer traps!” someone called out from the other side of the cabin.

  Chapter 9: Bad For Business

  Jeff awoke at dawn and joined the other crewmen as they piled out onto the deck. The Captain was back at the helm and it was just getting light. On the horizon, Jeff could see two other ships that he assumed must be the ones they were meeting. He went below to the galley and Robinson was busy serving up food and grog to a line of crewmen. She gave him a slight wink as she handed him his meal and a coconut in place of the usual mug of grog. He quickly sliced off the top of the coconut and took a seat at the dining table with several other members of the crew who were all too busy gulping down breakfast to engage in anything but the most cursory of communication.

  Upon finishing his food and taking the last swig of coconut water, he made his way back on deck. By now, the sun was well up and the other ships were much more visible in the distance. He still could not see land, but reasoned that it could not be too far away if the ships were going to commence with a raid that same day. The rest of the crew was taking their various posts and preparing to rendezvous with the Brethren ships. Jeff looked up at the Captain who seemed to be intent on steering the ship and decided it would be best if he simply stood someplace out of the way.

  Less than half an hour later, the Captain sailed alongside the other ships and gave the order to furl the sails and drop anchor. At their angle of approach, Jeff could only see the name painted across the stern of one of the ships, The Crow. Jeff could see men piling into longboats at each of the other two ships and soon they were making their way toward the Wandering Wench. When the first of the longboats came alongside, the men quickly climbed aboard and were greeted warmly by Captain Coxen. “Captain Jamison, welcome! You look well, other than your face, of course!”

  “And you, Captain Coxen. Looking as fat as ever!” The two men laughed as they embraced before Coxen yelled out for Robinson to bring up rum and grog for Jamison and his men.

  As Jenny delivered the refreshments, the longboat from the other ship arrived. As the men climbed aboard, Coxen and Jamison welcomed Captain Craig. To Jeff, Craig was the first really pirate-looking pirate he had come across. While the others certainly didn’t look out of place as 17th century sailors, Craig was full-on storybook pirate with his thick black beard, tri-cornered hat, and a patch over his left eye. After the initial greetings, the three Captains retreated to Coxen’s cabin while the crewmen from all three ships drank and became better acquainted.

  Jeff watched from a distance as the crews interacted. Most of them obviously knew each other, although Jamison’s crew was much friendlier with the crew of the Wench than was Craig’s crew. Eventually, Crabtree noticed Jeff standing off to the side and called him over to make introductions. “Mr. Greene be the newest member of our crew an’ he be takin’ over from Graves as our ship’s surgeon. If not for he and Robinson, we might ha’ been taken by the Spaniards. Mr. Greene, tell our visitors how ye made fools o’ those Spanish dogs!”

  The men gathered around Jeff as he told how he and Robinson had sabotaged the Spanish ships. Most of the visitors seemed impressed by Jeff’s ingenuity and bravery, but a couple of Craig’s men were not convinced. “Sounds like a fairy story to me,” one of them grumbled.

  “Aye!” another growled, “No one swims in the ocean and comes back to tell o’ it.”

  Crabtree stepped in before Jeff could say anything. “I seen it with me own eyes, and it all be true.” Not wanting to start a fight with Crabtree, the naysayers quickly quieted down. The men resumed drinking and catching up on the latest news for much of the day before the three Captains emerged together from Coxen’s cabin and called the men to attention.

  Coxen took the lead in announcing the plans for the raid. “Men, we shall sail just after sunset for Cabra Cachonda. We should reach our anchorage within a few hours and from there each ship will send a raiding party in the longboats. Drink up the last of your rum and grog now and prepare for the raid. The men gulped down whatever was left in their mugs and the crews separated as Jamison and Craig and their men returned to their ships. Coxen gathered the crew and announced the members of the raiding party. As he already knew, Jeff was to stay aboard the ship along with Robinson and a handful of other crewmen to guard the ship and to assist with loading cargo when the raiding party returned.

  A short time later, the sun sank below the horizon and the Captain gave the order to haul anchor and set sail. Jeff watched with curiosity as the Captain repeatedly consulted his simple navigational instruments. It was amazing that the Captains could even get close to their intended destination sailing in the dark. After some time under sail, Jeff spotted what appeared to be firelight in the distance. Shortly thereafter, the Captain had Crabtree signal the other ships with a small lantern and then quietly relay the order to furl the sails and drop anchor.

  The men assigned to the raiding party lined up at the rail and quickly boarded the longboats. In the moonlight, Jeff could see the same activity occurring on the nearby ships and the longboats quickly joined up and headed toward the firelights on shore. As they had been instructed, Jeff, Robinson, and the others took positions on the rails to keep watch. Jeff was glad to be positioned so that he could keep an eye out toward shore as well. He watched the longboats disappear in the darkness and a short time later heard faint sounds of commotion coming from shore. The raid was on! While he had mixed feelings about being involved with what was essentially armed robbery and perhaps even killing, it was undeniably exciting and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he imagined what was happening ashore.

  Suddenly, there were flashes of light followed shortly after with the sounds o
f gunfire. From the appearance and sound of things, there was quite a fierce battle taking place. The gunfire continued off and on for several minutes. The small points of firelight soon erupted into large blazes that lit the night sky. The remainder of the crew on the Wandering Wench now joined Jeff at the rail and watched in silence as the fires grew and distant screams carried across the water. Robinson was the first to speak. “Prepare the rifles and take positions on the rail!” Jeff lingered for a moment at the rail watching the shore in disbelief before following the others down to the cargo hold. He grabbed a rifle and a pouch of powder and ammunition and ran back on deck. In the distance, he could see the shadows of approaching longboats silhouetted against the fires still blazing on shore. Jeff prepared the flint on his rifle and crouched down at the rail. It seemed like hours as he watched the longboats approach, not knowing who they carried. To his relief, he finally heard Captain Coxen’s voice yelling angrily as other voices yelled back in the darkness. While things had obviously gone horribly wrong, Coxen at least was apparently alive and well.

  As the longboats neared the ship, Jeff could make out what was being said between Captain Coxen and the other voices. “You and your men are idiots, Craig!”

  “Fuck ye, Coxen. I had heard rumors ye had gone soft, but I did not believe it. Now I have seen it with me own eyes!”

  “Soft?!” Coxen yelled. Perhaps you should repeat that within reach of my arms and we’ll see who is soft! Being intelligent is not being soft! Your stupidity has cost us severely on this night and will cost us more in time to come.”

  “We be PIRATES Coxen, or have ye forgotten?”

  “Being pirates does not make us bloodthirsty barbarians! Have you forgotten that we are here to make a profit? Killing and raping innocents and burning the town does not bring profit. It only buys us trouble for future raids.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know we be respectable merchants, now! How silly o’ me!”