Chapter 25

 

Frederick stood at the docks of Fort Royal harbor, awaiting a dory to take him out to La Sirène, a three-masted merchant ship headed for Saint-Domingue—back to Antoine’s home. But that couldn’t be helped. It had been difficult enough to barter with the captain for passage in exchange for working on board. When he’d explained to the man—in Frederick’s limited French—the extent of his sailing skills, Captain Agard, a man as thin as a rope and just as frayed, had plucked the pipe from his mouth, looked him up and down and grunted.

“If ye can’t do the work, I’ll toss you to the sharks,” he had said in French, and Frederick knew he meant it.

But he could do the work and more. If the captain only knew. Though now as Frederick pressed his shoulder and ribs and felt how sore they still were, he wondered.

Despite that, with each passing minute as he watched the boat approach, his spirit grew more and more restless—as if a hot wind cycloned within him, tossing anything that made sense into chaos. What was wrong with him? He should be overjoyed to be leaving Reena and her motley crew. He should be thrilled to get as far away from her as possible and make his way back home. Especially since he had an even more urgent reason to return.

There had been no quicksand in the jungle, no dangers which had required his protection. When he left her, she was about to retrieve her precious map, and no doubt by now she and her band were heading back through the jungle to her brig.

Yet…something within him made him feel like he was making a huge mistake.

Frederick glanced up at the ebony sky, where stars winked at him as if they held a grand secret. Surely it cannot be Your will that I remain in such debased company. Better to join my parents and do Your work than face such overwhelming temptation every day.

I am…your strength. The words filled his soul to near bursting as if he’d swallowed a hallowed wind. A gust tore over him, whipping his shirt and fingering his hair. Nay, merely the wind playing tricks on him. Of course he must leave. ’Twas the right thing to do.

A sailor at the head of the dory held up a lantern as it approached the wharf, where Frederick and two more sailors awaited transport to the merchant ship.

Footsteps thundered behind him, quaking the planks beneath Frederick’s boots. But he didn't want to know who it was. He didn’t want anything to prevent him from doing what he must.

Hands grabbed his arm and twirled him about. A familiar voice, frantic faces—Brodie, Jo, Abraham, and Wilson.

Brodie was shouting, but his accent was too thick, his words too fast. “Slow down, Brodie.” Frederick grabbed him and drew them all aside. “What’s happened?”

“Dat scoundrel, Antoine,” Abraham said, breathing heavy. “He double-crossed us. Took Reena's map an’ handed her ov’r to de French.”

Jo pushed her way forward, her eyes shifting between his in terror. “They whipped ’er, Cap’n Carlton. Put ’er in stocks in the public square fer all t’ see, claimin’ she's a pirate.”

Frederick's heart shriveled until he could barely feel it beat. The French were notoriously ruthless to British pirates. After her whipping, they’d break her bones, then leave her in the square to rot.

Thunderation! Raking back his hair, he took up a pace. “I knew we couldn’t trust that snake!” Halting, he scanned their faces, barely making them out in the moonlight. “How did you get away?”

“They didna care aboot us,” Brodie had finally settled down. “They jist wanted her.”

Anger rising, Frederick glanced toward the peninsula, beyond which both Reena’s and Antoine’s ships were anchored. “No doubt he'll try to take her brig as well. Abraham, you must return to the Reckless.”

“But what aboot the cockboat?” Brodie asked. “Ach now, Antoine’s likely already got to it.”

“Nay.” Abraham said with authority. “The cap’n tol’ dem to move it to a dif’rent spot.”

“Smart lady.” But then, Frederick already knew that. “Then go, Abraham, and be quick about it.”

“But wha’ about de Cap’n?”

“We’ll save her.” Frederick’s tone bore more confidence than he felt.

“How?” Brodie huffed. “There be only four of us aginst an army of French soldiers.”

Abraham darted off, and Frederick gripped the Scot’s shoulders. “You forget. I am my father’s son.”

 

♥♥♥

 

The French officers shoved Reena into the open square. The irons around her ankles clanked and rubbed her tender skin. Tumbling forward, she tripped and fell on the cobblestones. Pain spiraled up her knees and elbows. Vicious hands yanked her up by both arms, nearly pulling them from their sockets. The barrel of a musket pushed against her back. Ankles burning, ropes grinding the skin at her wrists, she stumbled forward. The officers chattered amongst themselves in French, obviously thrilled to have captured a British pirate—and a female at that. She wondered how much Antoine had collected for her, the viper! She had not trusted him, but she had not expected such a hateful betrayal.

The soldiers spewed more French slurs upon her as they advanced toward an empty pillory in the middle of the square. An occupied one stood to its left. At least she thought ’twas occupied. Hard to tell in the misty shadows. What she could tell were morsels of what the Frenchmen were saying—something about a trial in the morning and an appointment with the noose in the afternoon. One of the officers—the one who stared at her, licking his lips as if she were a pint of ale—suggested they take their pleasure with her before they put her in the pillory. But thank the Lord, the lieutenant in charge refused.

She shivered at the thought and was grateful the man seemed to have a modicum of honor. Though, aside from not being ravished, her future prospects appeared bleak.

She cursed Antoine under her breath. The lecherous swine had professed his love to her over and over, but ’twould seem his love of eternal youth and fortune far outweighed his love for her. And Sedley. If she ever got out of this…she’d have him keelhauled or worse. He was the only one who knew she had the other two maps with her. As she had planned. To test his loyalty.

To test Antoine’s loyalty.

But hadn't she been willing to betray him as well? Aye, but not to turn him over to be hung. She would never do that, tenderhearted fool that she was! She was as gullible as Freddy said. Far too gullible. The musket struck her back again, and she tumbled to the hard ground at the base of the pillory.

Dust from the street rose to fill her nose. Coughing, she scanned the square. At least six armed men stood guard around the outskirts. For her? Or for the other poor soul in the next pillory?

The officer was saying something about a whip as a salty breeze blew in from the harbor. Reena glanced up to see twenty or so ships at anchor and the moon dabbing silver paint on rippling black wavelets. A scene far too beautiful for the proceedings onshore. Not many were about at this hour. Light and music poured from a few taverns and punch houses lining the street, and some men stumbled about, but most of the good townsfolk would be asleep as it was no doubt past midnight. Why whip her then?

Against her will, fear trickled up her spine and gripped her heart. Bilge water! She was a pirate captain and should not be afraid. Yet, she couldn't help the slight tremble as they tore the ropes from her hands. She had but a moment to rub her raw skin during which the man in charge, the lieutenant who’d saved her from being ravished, knelt and finally looked her in the eyes. She thought she saw pity in his, but they quickly hardened and he rose, yanked off her waistcoat, and ripped her shirt open in the back. A gentle breeze caressed her skin, as if giving her one last moment of pleasure before the coming agony.

A command was given and two men laid her head and hands on the block and then slammed down the top piece of wood. The strike echoed down the street, sealing her fate.

If she were a praying woman, she would beg the Almighty for a chance to escape. Or at the very least, for release from the pain that was sure to come. Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut and forced back womanly tears that threatened to break free.

She barely heard the sound of the whip before her back split open in agonizing pain.

“This is what we do to British pirates,” one of the men said in English before another blow ripped across her back. She clenched her jaw, refusing to scream, determined to show these men that a woman pirate was as tough as any man.

She heard the whip snap in the air again and braced for the impact.

“Assez!” the lieutenant shouted.

It never struck.

The Frenchman who’d wanted to ravish her stooped before her face. “Two stripes tonight, ma chérie, and another thirty-eight tomorrow before you are hung.” He smiled and slid a finger down her cheek. She longed to spit on him, but she could not lift her head high enough.

“Allons-y!” the lieutenant barked, and the men scattered to one of the taverns across the way.

Reena hung her head, unable to think, unable to cry, unable to do much of anything but feel the pain throbbing through her. She struggled to free herself, but to no avail. Alas, this was to be her fate, then. Did her parents not warn her that the end of every pirate was the noose or Davy Jones’ Locker?

But she had not listened. She thought herself too wise, too skilled to ever be caught. Yet should such a disaster occur, she had hoped one drink from the Fount would release her from any such fate.

And she’d been so close to finding it...so close.

“Save me,” she whispered a prayer, harboring no hope that God would listen. Why would He? She had turned her back on Him long ago.

“Whaddya do t’ make ’em so mad at a lady?” A voice, bearing a British accent, emerged from the darkness, and Reena turned her head with difficulty to the pillory beside hers.

She made no reply.

The man sighed. “They caught me stealing from one o’ their merchant ships. My family were starvin’.”

Pain seared through her, and she struggled to find her voice.

“Are you really a pirate?” he asked.

“Not just a pirate,” Reena breathed out, finally. “But the captain of a pirate ship.”

“Lud! I ne’er saw no woman pirate afore.”

“It pains me to hear about your family, if ’tis true,” she managed.

“Why would I lie? What good can I do them now? We’re t’ be hung on the morrow.”

Not if she could help it, though she had no idea at the moment how to escape.

“I’m Captain Reena Hyde.”

“Henry Florence. A pleasure, Miss…I mean, Captain.”

They both fell into silence, for what else was there to say? They had nothing but agony to look forward to and neither of them could help the other.

Reena hung her head again, her chin scraping over the rough wood, where, no doubt, hundreds of poor victims had drooled, bled, and cried. Flies landed on her open flesh, biting and stinging. She tried to move, to fling them away, but it was no use. Instead, she tried to think of happier times—sailing the seas with Freddy, desperately in love with life and with each other.

Did he even know where she was? Or had he already embarked on a ship in the harbor behind her? Had her friends made it back to the Reckless, or had Antoine captured them? It was all too horrible to consider.

After what seemed like forever, but could only have been an hour, the music from the taverns died down. Laughter dwindled as well, along with flickering lights, and the city fell into a deadly silence. Even the moon slipped behind horizon, leaving Reena and Henry in such darkness she could taste it.

The peaceful sound of lapping waves brought her little comfort as she tried to not give into the pain. She must use her agony to remain conscious. If these were to be her last moments on earth, she wanted to use them to fight, to plan an escape…not to curl up and die.

Jerking her head up, she drew in several deep breaths and fought to keep her eyes open. A light drew her gaze to the right. A glowing figure formed in the brightness. A tall, thickly-muscled man, bearing sword and shield stood near her, saying nothing, doing nothing.

Freddy?

Then he was gone. She closed her eyes, feeling her strength leech away, her pain overwhelming her. She could hear her own breathing, feel herself drifting…drifting…

A thunderous blast shook the ground beneath her and roared across the square.