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 Posted: Sun Nov 20, 2022 7:41 pm
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Posted: Sun Nov 20, 2022 7:42 pm
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Posted: Sun Nov 20, 2022 8:19 pm
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Posted: Sun Nov 20, 2022 9:13 pm
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Posted: Sun Nov 20, 2022 9:14 pm
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Posted: Thu Dec 22, 2022 8:29 pm
  Clouds of smoke dissipated in the air over two ships strapped together by grappling hooks. Moments ago, the ringing of steel sword against sword, gunshots, and hurled obscenities had echoed across the waves. Now there was naught but a sobering silence. “That’ll be enough boys,” Charles Ryder, acting captain of the pirate ship Typhon, said as the toe of his boot rolled a body over. Staring down into the vacant gaze of the captain who had valued shipped goods over the lives of his men, Charles tsked under his breath before rummaging through the dead man’s pockets. “Here,” he tossed a key ring to his second in command. “Find the captain’s log and a list of the inventory. Thomas, I want you and your men to get the gangplanks down for the cargo. Quickly now! I want us in port before the day's out.”
Men surged forward to start the scavenging and unloading process while the remaining sailors from the merchant vessel were corralled. If the Typhon had been low on men, this would have been the time for Charles to make a grand speech to them about the benefits of a pirate’s life: We serve no master, bow to no king. We live life for ourselves and enjoy all the riches and pleasures this world has to offer. On our ship, every man has a vote, and every man controls his own destiny. As it were though, over a hundred men already manned the Typhon, each eager to reap the rewards of sailing under the fearsome Captain Benedict ____. What the men didn’t know, though, was that the Captain _____ planned to retire soon with Charles taking his place. What remained to be seen was whether or not Charles would be able to live up to his forebearer’s reputation...and expectations.
“Sir?” a bespectacled man approached Charles, holding the keys taken off the merchant vessel’s captain. “There’s a door in the cargo hold that’s sealed shut, and none of the keys can unlock it. Thomas wants to force it, but I’m afraid it might be booby-trapped.”
“You’re thinking like a pirate, Tim,” Charles replied with a wry grin. “These men work for merchants. They don’t think like we do.”
“But sir—,”
After clapping the man on the shoulder, Charles bounded off into the ship’s depths, throwing caution to the wind as curiosity (and the mental image of a heaping pile of treasure) got the better of him. Arriving in the hold, he found Thomas propping up a makeshift battering ram. “Quick work, my man,” Charles teased Thomas before grabbing a hold of the ram’s other end. “Let’s see what lies in wait for us.”
Boom! Boom!
The door came down with a solid thud, and then all was quiet.
“See, Tim? No booby-traps.” Reaching overhead for one of the swaying lanterns, Charles ventured forth into the dark hold. No sooner had he taken a step forward, though, than he suddenly startled back. “Oh, ******** the Typhon anchored in Nassau and their fat plunder had been safely brought ashore, Charles loaded four barrels of rum onto a cart before hoisting himself into the driver’s seat beside his newest treasure. “Sorry about the wait. We almost lost one of the barrels with the tide,” he explained to the young woman. “Oh, silly me,” he switched the horse’s reins into his left hand while the other removed a bandana from the woman’s mouth. Charles clucked his tongue softly to get the horse going and then subtly glanced to make sure the woman’s wrists and ankles were still securely tied. It wouldn’t do to have her vaulting off the cart into the Caribbean jungle.
“My men tell me you haven’t given them your name yet or any explanation as to what you were doing on that merchant ship. Of course, a gag doesn’t exactly foster open communication, but they aren’t always the brightest bunch. So why don’t we start with a proper introduction. My name is Charles Ryder, and you are…?”
---
“Hello? Is someone there?” a young redhaired woman called down a long hallway. Her heart beat fast as she stood frozen in place, waiting for the slightest of sounds to indicate she wasn’t truly alone. Outside, a warm Caribbean breeze caused palm trees to sashay in the sun, a laundrywoman beat dust from a rug, and a dog barked at chickens scavenging for feed. But all remained quiet in the manor house of the illustrious Captain ____, so the woman ventured forward.
Once safely beyond the heavy wooden door she’d eyed since her arrival in the house two weeks past, she put down her cleaning supplies and took a measured glance of the room’s many treasures. A statue of a dancing nymph sat beside an unused fireplace. Bejeweled crosses were scattered across a silk tablecloth. There were daggers with rubies inlaid in their handles, diadems, necklaces, and even an errant crown. A bag full of coins with funny looking faces sat beside an intricately carved clock that no longer ticked. Wooden masks barred fangs at the viewer, while oriental fans hid scantily dressed women between their folds. The woman ran her hand over a table covered in jewelry before stopping in front of a simple looking band ring. Glancing around the room once more to ensure she was truly alone, she picked up the ring and ever so delicately tried it on her wedding ring finger.
For her plan to work, the woman needed a new identity. She could keep her name, Lore Barnes, but it’d be much safer to be a hardworking widow than a poverty-stricken maid with a history of working in a cat house. The ring would help keep onlookers at bay and, if she grew desperate, would be easy enough to pawn. Now she needed to pick out a few small highly valuable items that she could conceal on her person. The best items would be ones she could sew into the top of her bodice, that way they’d always be on her person. Pearl earrings? Diamond rings? How many and how far would they get her away from this damned place…
Suddenly a creak sounded in the high-vaulted room. Lore gasped and startled away from the table, knocking a few pieces of jewelry to the ground. Reaching down to fetch them, she silently prayed it was just her imagination.
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