Within A Captain's Treasure. Lisa A. Olech

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СКАЧАТЬ the grime and battle wash, she was rather pretty. Her hair curled over her ear, and in dark spirals at the nape of her neck. The long braid she wore must tame the chestnut tresses.

      He smirked remembering the last time he saw her. She was mud soaked and dripping wet from the drenching rains that fell that day. Not a woman who balked at a little dirt, this one. Nor did she faint at the sight of blood. Not even when she was covered in it. Not even when it was hers.

      The room was silent save the creak of the hull and the rush of the ocean. After their earlier bickering, the quiet was unsettling.

      “Almost finished. Tell me how you ended up on the Delmar swinging a boarding ax?”

      “I was trying to stay alive. Rasher thought I was a witch. Believed I brought a plague ship upon them. Your ship. He planned on killing me. There were others. More women. I don’t know what happened to them.”

      She adjusted the shirt covering her chest and continued. “We were traveling to Virginia on the Olivia Grace. I’d secured a position as governess at a plantation there known as Pleasant Ridge.” Her brows knit together. “The men of the Delmar struck without warning. They wiped out our crew. Killed all the men.”

      “You’re lucky to have survived. Rasher and his men are ruthless. And desperate by the look of it. Why else would a slave ship attack a passenger vessel?”

      She turned eyes the color of spring grass toward him. “Captain Fredericks thought it might be a slave ship.”

      “Aye. One of the worst.” He tied the ends of the bandage together. “The reason why we engaged them. Their treatment of the men, women, and children is the worst we’ve seen. They suffer horrendous conditions. Rasher loses more to disease and abuse than he brings to the trade market.”

      “Human cargo. The very idea makes me ill.” She grimaced and tipped her arm to look at her bandage.

      Quinn nodded his agreement. “I, as well. But this is one shipload we can return to their shores.”

      Her eyes went wide. “Is that why you captured the Delmar? To save the slaves?” The tone in her voice sounded incredulous. Her attitude rankled.

      “Yes, why else?” His jaw tightened.

      Alice gave a tiny shrug. “You’re pirates.”

      “Privateers,” he corrected.

      “Still, the trading of slaves is very profitable. I assumed.”

      Quinn finished tying off the dressing. “You assumed wrong. Some profits aren’t worth the cost. Buying and selling of these people is abhorrent. We pirate our usual marks. Our coffers stay full and keep news of our actions from reaching England. At the same time, we’re a serious threat to those who ply the African trade. They’re cocky. None dare challenge them. Except the Scarlet Night.

      “We drape the ship in black until we’re close enough to strike. Usually, we intercept the ships close to the point of capture and return the negroes before half of them die in those hellish holds. The Delmar was farther out than we expected.”

      “So you bring them back.”

      Quinn returned the items he’d finished using. “Aye.”

      “I may have misjudged you.” Alice laid a hand over her binding.

      He tossed the soiled wash water out the nearest window. “It doesn’t matter how you judge me, Mistress Tupper.” He latched the window with a snap.

      “I didn’t expect it would.” She shook her head before worrying her lower lip. “Still I’m grateful to you for tending my arm.”

      Her innocent gesture of biting her lip threw him. It was the first sign of anything less than brazen assertion on her part. Perhaps she wasn’t as tough as she pretended to be. “I’m needed on deck. Clean up if you wish. I’ll see about finding you some suitable clothing and food. Then we can discuss your fate while you’re with us. The men will decide what we’re to do with you.”

      “Do with me?”

      “Aye. The crew will vote if you stay. And for how long. Or if you go and when. Were it left to me, you’d be leaving at the first opportunity. The sooner you are off my ship, the better for all concerned.”

      * * * *

      By the time Quinn returned to the deck, the wounded from the battle had been treated, and the remaining crewmembers of the Delmar had been gathered and lashed together around the main mast of the Scarlet Night. Climbing into the rigging, Quinn swung over the gap between the ships to drop onto the decks of the Delmar. His quartermaster, Thomas Bellamy, stood with boatswain, Clyde Jessup, and Henry Robbins, a swivel gunner.

      Bellamy shook his head. “Been below, Capt’n. Ain’t ne’re seen the like of it. Stacked like cordwood. More than seventy dead or beyond hope of ever seeing another day.”

      Jessup spat upon the deck. “Whole ship reeks of death.”

      Quinn’s lip curled at the smell. He was right. The stench was almost overwhelming. “What of the survivors?”

      Bellamy hitched his chin toward the bow of the ship. “Brought ’em up into the light of day and be giving them food and water.”

      “How many?”

      “’Bout twenty. Five be alive, but hangin’ by a prayer. Sick ’ave been moved.”

      “Good.” Quinn rubbed his jaw. “Jessup, you and Robbins, take the rest of the captives and get across to the Night. Bellamy, you and I have business with Rasher’s crew.”

      Back on the ruby decks of the Scarlet Night, Quinn approached the mangy remnants of the Delmar. “Gentlemen, good news, you’re free to go.” Bellamy started to object, but Quinn held up a hand. “Mister Bellamy, release these men, and see they return to their ship. Unharmed.”

      “This be some sort of trick?” One of the men narrowed his eyes at Quinn.

      “No, no trick.” He turned back to Bellamy. “See they have food. Water, as well. Two day’s worth should be enough. Give them time to see to the dead aboard.”

      “Two days? We’re more ’an two weeks from the closest port.”

      Several of Quinn’s men approached. “Sir, stripped the Delmar of every inch of sailcloth, like you ordered.”

      “Good men, thank you.”

      “Ye pinched our sails? Ye be maroonin’ us on a ship of bloated bodies. We all be dead ’fore we get te land.”

      Bellamy shoved the man toward the traverse ladders. “You’re the smart one, I ken tell. Get movin.’”

      “Wait.” Quinn stopped the last man. “The women from the Olivia Grace. Where are they?”

      A sneer crossed the man’s filthy face. “Capt’n took his pick. Crew got the rest. Weren’t nothin’ but shark bait ’fore they got ta me. Some be greedy pricks.”

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