The Pirate’s Revenge
Chapter 1
Victoria Astor leaned on the slick railing of the ship. Sea spray dampened her hair as she stared out into the endless turquoise ocean, an ocean that stretched out until its edges bled into the cyan sky above. A sound started her, and she glanced over her shoulder, wary that her foray to the bow of the ship had been observed by her overbearing nurse Blanche. Really, she mused, she was quite a bit too old for a nurse. Blanche had been her constant companion since birth, and though Victoria loved her dearly, she longed for the freedom to roam about unsupervised. However, once she reached England and was wed to her betrothed Lord Edward Vane, Blanche would cease to be her nurse altogether. She would stay on to care for Victoria’s own children, of course, but as the lady of her own household, Victoria hoped that her future position offered her more free will than her current state. Lord Vane was a mystery to Victoria, a stranger she had never met and yet was, according to her mother, a “suitable match.” Stroking the damp rail with one finger absentmindedly, Victoria pondered the idea of growing round with child and balked at the idea. Perhaps it was the result of her childhood spent in Port Royale, growing up in the unyielding Caribbean sun instead of the London rain her mother so often described with longing. Though Victoria could not fathom pining for storm clouds, Elizabeth Astor often reminisced on the polite society she had given up to become the governor’s wife in the wild Caribbean. She had done her best to rear Victoria as a proper debutante, but a childhood on the island had made the idea of raising foals far more desirable to Victoria than the idea of raising children. Nevertheless, the time had come for Victoria to wed, and so it was that she now sailed for London.
Victoria’s reverie was interrupted suddenly by a shout from the crow’s nest. She was unable to make out the scout’s words, but his message caused the deck to erupt into a frenzy of activity. Concerned, Victoria hiked up her silken skirts and peered around, unexpectedly anxious to find the nurse she had been so eagerly avoiding only moments earlier.
“Blanche!” she called out, moving down the deck towards the entrance to the cabins. Holding her heavy skirts in one fist, Victoria dodged scurrying crew mates as she made her way to the stairs. One burly sailor with a particularly detailed tattoo of a busty woman on his forearm called out to the helmsman, and this time Victoria caught a single word: pirates.
Instantly the blood drained from her face and she felt her knees go weak. Her father, Governor Robert Astor, had always made sure his daughter fully understood the malicious nature of pirates. He had lost his own brother, a captain in the British navy, to a particularly scoundrel attack by the dread pirate Edward Teach, better known as Blackbeard. Victoria remembered the fervor with which her father and his men had hunted Blackbeard, never ceasing, never resting until at last the infamous pirate died with English bullets in his chest. She spun and sprinted back toward the rail, peering over the edge and squinting until at last she saw in the distance that fatal sight: a ship hoisting an ominous black flag, headed straight for the Fortune.
“There you are!” Victoria started as she felt a hand grasp her elbow. She turned to see Blanche, her portly and aging nurse, standing behind her with a look of extreme worry on her face. “Get away from the railing. Come, come, come, we must go back in the cabins. Captain Morris has given us special instructions to lock ourselves in his quarters immediately.” Blanche pulled Victoria from the ship’s edge rather aggressively, corralling her towards the stern. “Good heavens, what are you thinking leaning over the railing like that, foolish girl!”
“So it is true, then,” said Victoria as the pair embarked back inside the ship and made their way down a dimly lit corridor. “We are about to be attacked by pirates.”
“Nonsense.” Blanche huffed as the two entered Captain Morris’s quarters. Blanche drew the bolt and proceeded the sit on the small bed, dragging Victoria along with her. “This is all just precautionary, just precautionary. Don’t lose your head yet-”
Before Blanche could finish her admonition, a blast of cannon fire rocked the ship. Blanche shrieked and clung to Victoria as the girl sat stunned in a state of disbelief. It felt unreal, like a nightmare Victoria could not seem to shake from her unconscious. Another blast from the ship’s cannons was fired, and now the battle was truly underway. Victoria understood the consequences of defeat; at best, the pirates would rob them of their valuables and leave them with their lives. Should they be a particularly brutal lot, however, the sun would set over the wreckage of their ship and the bodies that would soon sink to the ocean floor. Victoria shuddered at the prospect, which did not go unnoticed by her nurse. Blanche composed herself and hugged the girl tight to her breast. “There, now. It’s all right. Captain Morris is a fine captain, a very able captain indeed. All will end well, dear.”
The battle raged on for what seemed to be hours. The first shot to hit the Fortune rocked the boat incredibly and struck a deep note of fear in Victoria’s heart. She did her best to stay calm for Blanche’s sake, knowing full well that any sign of her own distress would only heighten Blanche’s terror. After the first impact, more cannon fire seemed to land, and Victoria’s hopes of victory began to slowly fade. Following a particularly fearsome blast, the cannon fire appeared to cease. All was quiet for a few moments, and then shouting began in earnest from above. The clash of swords could be heard distinctly, and with it, Victoria’s heart sank. They had been boarded. All was lost.
Blanche glanced wildly around the room, desperate to find a wardrobe or cupboard in which to hide her young ward. The small room offered no such accommodations, and so Blanche quickly shooed Victoria under the bed and hid her as best she could under the long ends of the bedsheet that hung down. “No matter what, keep quiet dear. Stay hidden as long as you can. If they sink the ship, try and make it to one of the rafts on board.” The two sat quietly for a moment, the nurse perched on the bed and Victoria lying flat on the dust-covered bed underneath.
Victoria took a deep breath. “Blanche, do you think-” the beginning of her question was interrupted by a fearsome crash at the door. “Hush, Victoria,” snapped Blanche, her outward sternness hardly reflecting the dread she felt inwardly. From her hiding spot, Victoria could see nothing but the door and instead focused on the sounds of shouting and scuffling that emanated from the hall. A booming voice ordered “In here!” and Victoria listened in horror as the deadbolt of Captain Morris’s cabin finally gave and heavy, booted footsteps came storming in. The same gruff voice ordered other men to take Blanche to the deck to join what he referred to as the “other prisoners,” and then commanded his men to ransack the room and bring all valuables topside. Victoria froze, muffling the sound of her own breathing with a sweaty palm over her mouth. She peered under the edge of the bed linens and saw pairs of boots rummaging around the room. Her blood ran cold as someone approached the edge of the bed. She silently moved back towards the wall, placing as much distance as possible between herself and the pirate. Time seemed to stand still for a moment, but she was brought swiftly back to reality when someone drew the bedcovers back and peered under the bed. Victoria gasped as the pirate’s tan, leathery face wrinkled into a sinister smile. She kicked his hand away as he reached out to draw her out from under the bed and he swore loudly in Portuguese when she made contact with her heel. Smiling no longer, the pirate grabbed one pale ankle and dragged Victoria out from under the bed as she squirmed and shrieked loudly.
“Silêncio, princesa,” leered the pirate. Victoria recoiled as the pirate stroked one of her cheeks with a callused hand. She turned away from him as he held her close, propping up her body weight. Up close, the pirate was even more fearsome, with dark, unforgiving eyes and tattoos covering the arms that gripped her now. “To the deck with ye.” The pirate said something to his companion in Portuguese and then threw Victoria unceremoniously over his shoulder as she protested loudly. Her cries continued until they reached the deck, whereupon the sight that met her eyes made her body go limp all at once. The bodies of the few British soldiers who had been aboard lay strewn about, blood staining their once-pristine British uniforms. The passengers of the ship and the remaining crew members were huddled together, guarded over by fearsome-looking pirates wielding swords and loathsome expressions. The pirate holding Victoria carried her over to this panicked group, dumping her brusquely amongst them. Victoria was immensely comforted when a tear-stained Blanche made her way over, grasping Victoria in an overwhelming embrace. “Oh darling it’s all right, it’s going to be all right,” choked out the nurse, seemingly seeking to comfort herself just as much as her young charge.
A hush fell suddenly over the prisoners and crew alike, and Victoria craned her neck over Blanche’s should to view the source of this abrupt quiet. A figure appeared, and Victoria let out a small and involuntary gasp. The man she saw before her was unlike any man she had ever seen before. He stood tall and athletic, tan skin reflecting his many months spent at sea. His white shirt lay open, revealing a muscled chest and a gold chain with a singular gold coin at the end. Long black hair fell to his shoulders, held back from his face by a colorful bandana. And his face…oh, his face. Victoria thought him simultaneously the most handsome and cruel-looking man she had ever seen. He was young, no more than fifteen years her elder, but his face showed an unquestionable authority that seemed befitting of someone much older. Full lips were framed by a black mustache and goatee, and piercing green eyes peered out from under kohl-lined lids. Looking at him, Victoria felt something stir within her, not fear but something much more primal and foreign to her consciousness. Victoria was grateful when Blanche pushed her out of sight behind her skirts, as she had the strange feeling that if this pirate were to look at her with his sea-colored eyes, he would be able to read her very thoughts.
Next to the pirate waked another man, equally fearsome in a much different way. The largest man Victoria had ever seen, bulging muscles rippled under deep ebony skin. Gold hoops twinkled in the pirate’s ear, and a single large scar marked his cheek. The two men talked quietly as they approached the group of prisoners, Victoria’s heart fluttering more loudly with each step taken. The two pirates stopped in front of the group, and the green-eyed pirate began to speak.
“Bonjour, my friends.” The greeting was dripping with sarcasm, his voice at once commanding and honeyed. “You may have heard of me; I am Jacques de Sore, son of La Buse, master of the Caribbean, most feared pirate of all the seven seas-am I forgetting anything, Caesar?” The pirate grinned and turned to his large companion, who returned his smile with a solemn head shake. The pirate continued in his lilting French accent, turning back to address his captives. “We do appreciate your cooperation here today, and we certainly appreciate all of the valuables you’ve been so kind as to gift us. Though I have enjoyed our time together-” here Jacques smiled widely “-it is time for us all to part ways. Now, as I don’t fancy your crew sailing for the nearest harbor and surprising me with a British warship, I’m afraid today the Fortune has run out of luck. Always a pity to sink a fine ship such as this one,” he shrugged here, “but the crew does enjoy a good scuttling. Ah, don’t look so solemn! I do believe I saw a couple long boats aboard. I’m sure you’ll work it out between yourselves.” Gasps and panicked whispers broke out among the prisoners as the pirate turned to face his companion. “Explosives ready, Caesar?” Caesar nodded. His speech completed, the two men began to walk away, presumably to re-board their own ship and leave the prisoners to their fate. Over his shoulder, Jacques addressed his captives for the last time. “Well then, I must bid you all adieu.” Victoria’s heart sank as the pirates walked away, and braced herself for her certain death. Read more »