The Pirate's Jewel

by Cheryl Howe

  The decks were cleared for an attack, though Nolan made sure no visible signs gave away their readiness. Their guns were loaded, but the gunports remained closed. The other vessel would think them at a disadvantage, unless they already knew who they were. Which was Nolan’s biggest fear.

  Nolan glanced at Wayland. “Do you recognize them?”

  “Not the vessel. But that don’t mean anything. Never knew a pirate not to abandon either a ship or a whore if a better one came along.” The pirate kept his gaze on the swiftly approaching sloop.

  Its single mast appeared slightly crooked as the ship bobbed and dipped a little drunkenly. If this was the best vessel the pirates could capture, Nolan could stop worrying. He handed Wayland the telescope. “Take a look at their captain.”

  Wayland scanned the other ship’s deck. “What do you know? It’s an old friend of yours.”

  Nolan turned abruptly. His nagging premonition became dread. “What? Who do you see?”

  “Look for yourself.” Wayland returned the spyglass. “Surprised you didn’t recognize him. That’s Handsome Jack Casper. We had a run-in or two with him on Tortuga.”

  “What happened to his nose?” Once Wayland said the name, Nolan’s gaze was drawn to a man standing in the center of the deck.

  Wayland laughed. “That’s why he’s called Handsome Jack instead of Smiling Jack these days.”

  Jack Casper was pointing and giving orders. His hair had turned from brown to gray, and a significant part of his nose was missing. He wore a permanent sneer. Nolan readjusted the glass and looked again. He wasn’t sneering. Part of his lip had been cut away as well. “I’m glad I got out of this business in one piece.”

  “You get a little more courage with every part you lose. That’s worth more to a man than a pretty face.”

  Nolan glanced at Wayland’s scarred visage. Nolan never put much value on his own good looks, but he’d take a pretty face over the alternative. He didn’t need courage today. He was a trapped man with something very important to defend. Therefore, he was dangerous. “Should we kill Handsome Jack outright, or should we hear what he has to say first?”

  Wayland shrugged. “Just ’cause he answers to Handsome Jack don’t mean he lost the sense of humor that got him his former nickname. Also, kill him outright and you’re liable to bring the Brethren down on our heads.”

  “I don’t remember there being such kinship in the pirate folds. The Brethren had a relationship more like Cain and Abel, as I recall.”

  Wayland laughed. “An apt description. Still, kill him and the others might be alerted we have something of value. I think it’s better to deal with Jack—tell him we’re looking for plunder like himself, and send him on his way.”

  Nolan stiffened. “And what of Jewel? What if things go wrong? My crew—”

  “Nothing will happen to the chit. I’ll see to that.”

  “You won’t have to, because I’ll blow them out of the water if something goes wrong. I’ll kill them all myself.” Nolan knew with certainty he would carry out the threat. He had been suppressing the violence he was capable of for too long. If his dark nature could keep Jewel safe, he would give it full rein.

  Parker rushed forward with a brass horn in his hand. “The other vessel summoned us,” he said. “They want us to send a boat over with you on board. They asked for Nolan Kent.”

  Nolan had been so involved in his thoughts, he hadn’t heard. They’d asked for Nolan Kent—his notorious grandfather’s name—instead of Kenton. They knew exactly who he was, and probably that he carried the famous map on board. Not a pirate alive hadn’t dug for his grandfather’s treasure at least once. To have the map, men would take risks beyond reason. Bellamy had kept the desperate and foolhardy at bay with his larger than life reputation. For the first time since Nolan had dispatched his former mentor, he wished to have Bellamy by his side. He stared at Wayland again, accusation undoubtedly showing in his eyes.

  Wayland’s brown eye narrowed. “I told you, I don’t know anything about this.”

  Nolan grabbed the horn and strode to the railing. “You come over here, Casper.”

  “You’re inviting those villains on board?” Parker asked.

  “They’re getting out the grappling hooks,” said Wayland.

  “Parker, are the swivel cannons loaded with chain shot?”

  The lieutenant hesitated, as if caught off guard. “Yes, Captain.”

  “Good. Have the gunners aim them for Casper’s mainmast.” Then Nolan shouted a warning to the other ship without the horn. “The first grappling hook that lands on my vessel brings down your mast.”

  Nolan could feel himself changing. He felt more and more as if his current dress fit the man inside better than a stiff coat and brass buttons. He adjusted the sword slung low on his hip. He was ready for a fight. “Does Jewel know to stay below?”

  Wayland nodded. “I knew you had it in you, Nolan. This is the man you should be. Tough. Commanding. Merci—”

  “Open the gun ports.” Nolan gave the command to no one in particular, but he heard his words echoed through the ship, followed by the creak of wood as ports slammed open and cannon rolled out.

  “If you surrender now, we’ll spare your crew,” came a shout from the other deck.

  Nolan knew a bluff when he heard it. He had feared a battle with Jewel on board, but now he would take the risk. A show of weakness would never work. He had the upper hand and he needed to keep it. “Get over here, Casper, before I blow you out of the water.”

  “I heard you turned land lover, Nolan. Guess I was wrong. Buy me a drink?” Jack yelled. He might have lost the nickname “Smiling” but good humor still rang in his voice.

  “You’ve got five minutes to have your longboat in the water with you on it,” called Nolan. He handed Parker the speaking horn, and then folded his arms over his chest. Negotiations were over.

  Handsome Jack complied in half the time. Almost immediately, he was on the Integrity's deck with his hand extended and, despite his mangled visage, what would have been a smile on his face.

  Nolan stood, feet apart, ignoring the show of friendship. He no longer was playing a part. He had come home, and the knowledge chilled at the same time it comforted him. He no longer had to struggle against his dark side, fighting something he couldn’t control. Though his thin appearance and bent frame might have made another man dismiss him as a threat, Nolan watched Jack’s hands. The pirate was known to keep a dagger or two stuffed in his boots, and his accuracy was legendary.

  Handsome Jack didn’t take offense at Nolan’s unwelcoming stance. Instead, the old captain cocked his head and studied him from head to toe. “I knew Bellamy’s days was numbered as cock of the walk once he took you on board. You’ve done your grandpa proud.”

  Nolan didn’t shift his feet or flinch as he once would have done when compared to his infamous grandfather. He could no longer deny the truth, no longer wanted to. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, and he met Jack’s gaze with a stare. “State your business.”

  Handsome Jack rubbed his thin belly. “How ’bout a bite to eat or maybe a drink? Not much to ask between old friends, is it?”

  “How ’bout I let you keep the rest of your nose?”

  Jack raised his eyebrows and turned to Wayland. “He’s gotten mean as Blackbeard hisself. What’s got into him?”

  Wayland stepped forward. “He’s not one to turn the other cheek, but then, you said you heard about Bellamy. You threatened us, and we want to know why.”

  “Can’t a fella make a living anymore? It’s been lean years. I saw you sneaking around St. Martin, Wayland. When I followed you back to your ship, I saw Nolan here. Thought maybe you needed a ship to join ya.”

  Nolan glanced at Wayland. If Jack had followed him without his knowledge, the old pirate must be losing his edge. He raised an eyebrow in question and Wayland looked away. Nolan smirked, glad to finally have unnerved him.

  “Your crew looks like they’ve been hit by
scurvy more than once,” he said to Jack.

  The pirate laughed. “Not scurvy, just a little too much rum. We can still fight, though. What do you say?”

  Nolan looked Jack over. He had never been much of a pirate. He loved the good life. His takes ranged few and far between because he stayed drunk every chance he got. His raids were motivated to fund his lascivious habits. Jack had always had a cup for Nolan and a smile. He’d had one for everyone. Against his better judgment, Nolan let his sense of fair play have one last stand. “Come below, Casper. We’ll feed you and then you’re on your way.”

  “You’re a good lad, Nolan. I always said so, didn’t I, Wayland?” Jack eagerly followed him.

  “Ah, who could understand you when you were in your cups most of the time,” Wayland grumbled.

  They entered the galley, and Nolan sent a cask of undiluted rum over to the other ship as an added incentive to keep the peace. Drunk pirates were worthless. Jack and his men didn’t look too threatening, but Nolan wasn’t taking any chances. Jack eyed the keg hungrily. Nolan filled a tin cup, and handed it to him. With the threat of battle over, Nolan ordered the cook to light the fires. Everyone could use a hot meal.

  Jack and a few of his men who had come aboard to join in the festivities sat at the galley’s long table with Wayland, exchanging raucous stories. Nolan recognized men he’d known in his youth, a few who hadn’t been much older than he. The glass and brass lantern that lazily swung above their heads cast evil shadows across their gaunt faces. Jack wasn’t the only one who’d not fared well over the years.

  Not a man at the table didn’t have a visible scar or a missing digit to boast of their exploits. Skin the color and texture of old leather stretched across their hollow faces, making it hard to put an accurate age to any of them.

  Nolan stood by the wall, refusing to relax his guard. Jack and his crew appeared harmless enough, more eager for drink than a fight. Even so, Nolan couldn’t shake the chill of dread brought on by once again being surrounded by a band of pirates: men who could slap you on the back one minute and slit your throat the next. Though he had invited them on board to prove his swagger was backed up by a heavily gunned ship, he’d be glad when the show was over.

  Handsome Jack slipped his hand into the tattered coat he wore without a shirt. Nolan tensed and moved away from the wall. Though all the men had been thoroughly searched, Nolan knew not to take anything for granted. Jack held up a deck of cards. “Don’t pounce on me—you’re liable to break something. These old bones aren’t what they used to be. Just thought a friendly game could make my visit worthwhile.”

  Nolan leaned back against the wall. “I don’t gamble.”

  Jack returned the cards to the inside pocket of his jacket. “I can see that.”

  Crockery bowls were filled and passed to the visitors, but Jack only toyed with his stew, preferring the grog. After several glasses of the watered-down brew, his hands stopped shaking. He said, “That was something, the way you brought down Bellamy Leggett. There was no love lost between us, that’s for sure, but still, it was a shock to know he’d been done in by the lad he treated like his own son.”

  Nolan shifted slightly. He continued his relaxed facade but was ready to spring at any moment. “He treated me like his slave.”

  Jack shrugged. “Yeah? My own father treated me worse than that. Sold me to a merchant when I was barely old enough to buckle me shoes.” He took another long swallow of grog. “I still think I see old Bellamy sometimes.”

  Wayland stared into his cup. “You’ve probably started to see things. They say that’s what happens when the rum starts to kill you.”

  Jack lifted his cup in a toast. “Well, if anyone should know, it’d be you.”

  Wayland’s scathing rebuttal was lost as Nolan drifted away from the conversation. The word would be out soon enough that he was on the account. The tightrope he had been walking since the mutiny had snapped, and instead of hurling to earth, Nolan felt he had caught the wind and finally would be able to soar. His loyalties had not changed. He still believed in freedom, for his country and himself. He had killed Bellamy because he had to. He would kill again in the coming months, but this time for a just cause, not money. No longer would he let his father’s sense of morality stand in the way of what he wanted or needed. That included his relationship with his wife. Pirates plundered. Nolan closed his eyes and imagined his next visit with Jewel.

  He heard her voice, followed by a muffled scream. He opened his eyes, jerking away from the wall. Hearing her shriek in terror was not part of his fantasy. “Keep an eye on them,” he called to Wayland as he rushed from the galley.

  He leaped up the steps leading to the deck. Night had settled in a thick black blanket. He listened but didn’t hear any more noise. The scream had come from up above; he was sure of it. “Parker,” Nolan called out.

  “Over here. He has Jewel,” the lieutenant yelled from the stern.

  Nolan ran while drawing his sword. He spotted Jewel pushed up against the railing. A man he didn’t recognize stood beside her, not much bigger than Jewel but holding her tightly. In a few more steps, Nolan saw the glint of the knife against her throat. He slowed to a more cautious approach.

  Parker held a pistol trained on the couple.

  The man tightened his grip on Jewel at Nolan’s approach. Her sharp intake of breath sounded in Nolan’s ears like a cannon blast. A dark trickle of blood slid down her white neck.

  “Back off, mates, or I’ll slit her throat. That’s a promise.” The sailor scooted sideways with Jewel. Parker followed with the barrel of his pistol.

  “Mr. Tyrell, put that away,” Nolan ordered, his voice surprisingly calm. He put his own sword away.

  Parker grudgingly lowered the pistol, but his stance warned he was primed to pounce empty-handed—which didn’t do anything to relax the man who held Jewel.

  Nolan moved forward with slow, careful steps. He heard footsteps coming up behind him, but he didn’t turn around. Someone carried a lantern. When the ring of light reached Jewel, the fear it illuminated on her face tore at Nolan’s ability to be rational. The man holding her was going to die for this.

  “What the hell are you doing, Marcus?” called Handsome Jack.

  “She’s mine, Jack. I won’t be sharing her. Tell them to back off unless they want to see her slit in two,” said the pirate holding Jewel.

  Nolan sensed Jewel searching out his gaze, but he avoided glancing at her directly. He didn’t want to take his eyes off her captor for a minute. After only one glimpse at her face, Nolan knew that if he focused on the terror clouding her eyes, he wouldn’t be able to do what he must.

  Handsome Jack stepped beside Nolan, his hands raised in surrender. “Did you get the map at least?”

  Wayland pointed at Jack accusingly. “You bloody bastard. That’s what you wanted the whole time.”

  “I-I forgot about the map,” called Jewel’s captor. Nolan recognized the first signs of panic. It made the man more dangerous, but it also weakened his resolve.

  Jack turned to Nolan. “I got a deal that will make everyone happy. We’ll trade the map for the girl.”

  Nolan had already committed a crucial mistake by showing these bastards the slightest consideration. He wouldn’t repeat it. “I told you, I don’t gamble.”

  “I ain’t giving up this girl. They’ll kill me if I do, Jack. That dark-haired one’s got cold eyes.”

  Jack smiled. The effect was frightening. “It won’t be a gamble, just a fair trade between friends. We’ll give you back your lady friend, and you give us your grandpa’s map. I know you got it. Don’t think a dried-up old buzzard like Wayland would be with you for any other reason.”

  Nolan returned Jack’s smile. “No deals. But I’ll make you a promise, Casper. If you don’t get your crewman to release the girl, I’ll slaughter every member of your crew. Starting with you.”

  Jack nodded, and then bent to retrieve something from his boot. Nolan reached for his sword.
The other man stopped and winked. With slow, careful movements, he pulled a thin dagger from a slit in his boots—apparently a hiding place Nolan’s crew hadn’t been thorough enough to find. Nolan held his breath, and then nodded. “I know you’re a man of your word, Nolan, so I guess that leaves me no…choice.”

  Jack swiveled on the balls of his feet and flung his knife at the pirate who held Jewel. A howl of pain tore from his throat as Marcus clutched a handle that quivered from his left eye. Jewel stumbled forward. Her captor fell to his knees, his screams worse for their horror and pleas for help.

  Nolan reached for Jewel and yanked her against him. She trembled in his arms, so he pressed her tighter. He kissed the top of her head and whispered soothing words in her ear, despite the onlookers who would surely note his weakness. “Glad you haven’t lost your aim, Jack,” he said when he was able to find his voice. Even his best efforts didn’t stop the telling emotion from making his words raspy.

  Handsome Jack massaged a wrist. “Well, maybe a little. I was aiming for his throat.”

  Jewel pushed out of Nolan’s embrace. “You knew! You knew he was going to do that. Why didn’t you just give him the map?” she gasped.

  Nolan tried to pull her back into his arms. “Calm down, sweetheart. You’re safe now.” He needed to hold her to calm his own racing heart. He had seen Jack throw before, even lost a small fortune in betting against his accuracy. Letting Jack take down his own crewmember had caused Nolan to risk more than Jewel’s life. He’d risked his own. If he had made a mistake and Jewel died, it would have killed him.

  She struggled against him, but he held on to her arm, keeping her from bolting.

  Wayland slapped Jack on the back, saying to Jewel, “Don’t fret, chit. A knife in the eye did the trick as well as a cut to the neck. ’Course, it might not be fatal.”

  Jack walked to his crewman. “This one will be.”

  Marcus rolled on the deck. “Jack, Jack. Where are you? Am I going to die, Jack?”

  Jack signaled to Wayland. “Help me with him, will ya?”