Quest of Honor Page 6

  Eleanor held her breath, twisting her fingers together as the boat reached the Savage Soul. The moon shone down brightly on the waters, giving her enough light to see by, but one glance towards the dark clouds at Port Royal told her that they did not have long. The moment those clouds reached them, it would be nigh impossible to sail anywhere.

  “Do you think we can trust them, Captain?” the first mate asked, as they saw the small boats of the Savage Soul being lowered. “It looks like they mean to accept your offer.”

  Eleanor’s eyes darkened, her hand moving to rest on the handle of her cutlass. “No, we don’t. After all, they are pirates.” She gave him a grim smile. “Captain Wayland, whatever his intentions or hopes, will be shut in the brig the moment he comes aboard.”

  Morgan nodded.

  "And tell our crew to remain vigilant," she finished, slowly drawing her cutlass out as the crew from the Savage Soul finally made it to the Gunsway. "This could all be a trap."

  The moment the final crew hand from the Savage Soul stood on the deck, Eleanor knew her instincts had been correct. Their captain wore a relaxed smile, making her tense. Her men had removed weapons from the crew of the opposing ship, but she knew there would be some hidden out of sight, in boots or pant legs.

  “Where is Captain Adams?” Captain Wayland asked, sweeping off his hat in an elaborate bow. “I must thank him for his kindness.”

  Eleanor tensed, not taken in by the man’s attempt to appear jovial and willing to give up his ship so willingly. “You are to be locked in the brig,” she replied, tersely, refusing to answer his question. She nodded to Morgan, who moved forward – only for her entire deck to explode with action.

  The Savage Soul crew ran, as one, at the crew from the Gunsway, all of whom fired immediately. Unfortunately, their guns were not particularly accurate, so soon the sound of swords clanging echoed across the water as the Savage Soul crew had taken the advantage of surprise and lifted swords and cutlasses off her men as they fired their guns.

  Eleanor did not hesitate. Swinging her cutlass, she joined the fray, fighting for her ship and her father’s name.

  One young crew hand leapt, catlike, from the helm directly in front of her, waving his curved blade in figure eights multiple times. Eleanor cracked a smile, completely unintimidated. The man clearly thought she was untrained in battle, but he was about to suffer the consequences of his foolishness. For a brief moment, she saw uncertainty in her opponent’s eyes, immediately grateful for the advantage.

  Advancing forward, Eleanor held her cutlass steady, waiting for her opponent to make a move. As she had expected, the man charged at her with his curved blade upheld, going to his foreswing and following it with a backswing. Eleanor dodged the first and met the second with her cutlass, throwing her entire body weight behind her attack. It pushed his blade back, although she had not quite managed to knock it free of his hands.

  Her opponent recovered quicker than she had expected. His arcing shot sliced through her shirt close to her belly, the tip of his sword only just missing her flesh as she stumbled back across the deck. Without a second to spare, Eleanor swung her cutlass, attempting to pierce the man's skin herself, but missed by only a fraction of an inch. She could see the smirk on her opponent's face, apparently believing that she was going to go down in a matter of minutes. Anger ate through her, filling her with a white hot rage.

  This was her ship.

  This was her crew.

  She had offered kindness, but had been met with attack. She had been naive. She was trying to emulate her father, but instead had made a decision that could cost her the ship, or at the very least the respect of her crew. This attack was not entirely unexpected, but she absolutely would not allow such an act to go unpunished. She was not about to stand here and lose the Gunsway. She had made a poor decision and now had to prove her mettle.

  With a shout, she pushed forward, swinging heavily with her cutlass. Shouts and cheers from all around her let her know that her crew were doing well, overcoming the attack from the Savage Soul.

  Striking upwards, her first two strokes were met with an easy defence by the pirate, only for her to change her step, bend at the knee and strike forward. The cutlass ate through her opponent as easily as air and, as she withdrew her sword, he fell to his knees, looking at her with tortured eyes.

  Eleanor did not have time to wait for his death, turning on her heel and preparing to fight once more.

  “You are not the captain.”

  Captain Wayland stood in front of her, a gun pointed directly at her chest. A slow grin crossed his face as he lifted one eyebrow.

  “An imposter, are you?” He regarded her carefully, tilting up the brim of her hat with his other hand. “Ah, I see now. You are that daughter of his.” His smile widened. “Perhaps I might take my pleasure with you before you die.”

  "I am the captain," she replied, as sweat beaded on her forehead. "And you will not win this fight." Glancing to her left, she saw her crew was rounding up the rest of the Savage Soul men, with some of the dead already being thrown into the water.

  “As you can see, Captain,” she continued, mockery in her voice. “You have no status here. Your ship is lost to the Navy at Port Royal, your crew are under my control.” She grinned at him, her heart lifting in triumph. “Now why don’t you step back, before I feed you to the fishes?”

  His smile fell from his face as her crew slowly merged around her, ensuring there was no place else for him to go. He waved his gun menacingly, the only threat he had left.

  “Then I may as well remove you from your position, Captain,” he sneered. “At least then I can rest in the brig knowing that I have finally defeated my enemy.”

  Eleanor went white with shock, hearing the sound of a gun ring out. Closing her eyes, she waited for death to take her, for the pain to scream through her body – but instead, she felt nothing.

  A sudden thud had her opening her eyes, only to see Captain Wayland lying on the deck, dark liquid seeping from his body.

  “What?” she gasped, looking around. “How?”

  “Eleanor.”

  Looking up, she saw her father clutching the rail, his face white in the moonlight. A smoking gun was held in his hand, which dropped to the deck with a clatter as he fell on his knees.

  “Father!” she cried, running as fast as she could to him, managing to catch him just as he collapsed entirely. “Father, no!”

  “You are captain now,” he breathed, his eyes fluttering. “The crew stands with you.”

  Eleanor turned to glance at the assembled crew, all of whom nodded as one as they removed their caps from their heads, showing respect to her as well as her father.

  “You are brave and bold and strong, Eleanor,” her father whispered, his hand tightening on hers. “You are the best daughter a pirate could have asked for. Or any man, for that matter.” As he said his last words, the skies opened up and the rain that had threatened came pouring down. Eleanor did not pay any attention as the thunder cracked and the sky lit up by lightning. His voice became breathy, as he slowly faded away. “I will see you again, daughter.”

  “No!” A scream left Eleanor’s throat as her father’s hand fell, limp, to the deck. With tears pouring down her face, she bent over his body, placing her head on his chest but feeling no breath in his lungs.

  He was gone.

  9

  Eleanor was numb, her eyes on her father’s body wrapped in cloths. Someone in the crew spoke a few words, but Eleanor couldn’t summon the strength to say a single word. Her heart was torn.

  It had been two days since her father had passed. Upon his death, she had been forced to hide her grief and continue with her command of the ship. It had been unthinkably difficult, but she had no other choice as the new captain of the Gunsway.

  The body of Captain Wayland had been thrown, unceremoniously, into Davy Jones' locker, and the what was left of his crew threatened with much the same fate if they so much as attempted to escape
. She had not wanted to show them even the slightest bit of kindness but had done so nonetheless, knowing that it was what her father would have wished her to do.

  She had sent a boat of her own crew to plunder the Savage Soul, where they found a fine host of treasure.

  The Savage Soul crew hands had been given a choice: remain and serve on the Gunsway, or be returned to the Savage Soul where they might attempt to make their own way back to Port Royal, or wait to be captured by the Royal Navy. She had not been in the least surprised when the first mate of the Savage Soul had taken the option of returning, as well as two other sailors. She had merely nodded, and the men had been forced to walk the plank.

  They had cried out in protest, apparently believing that she was going to grant them the privilege of using the smaller boats, but she had remained steadfast. She made them swear to her that they would never reveal her identity, or she would come after them and hang them herself. She respected their desire to remain with their ship, and had been forced to acknowledge that there had been something of a relief in her heart when she had seen the three men begin to swim back towards the wreckage of the Savage Soul.

  They would have been picked up by the Royal Navy by now, she was sure of it. Not that it mattered. The only thing that mattered was her father’s body, wrapped up tightly and ready to hit the waves in burial. She had sewn him into his hammock herself, weeping as she did so. The privacy had allowed her some time to grieve in peace, pressing his cold hand with hers for the last time.

  “May he rest in peace,” she murmured, nodding jerkily at Morgan. She watched, tears blurring her vision, as the body dropped from the side of the ship into the waves, landing with a great splash. Guns were fired in salute, as the bell rang out in his memory.

  Eleanor blinked furiously, putting the captain’s hat firmly back on her head. It was time for her to speak to the men.

  “You have accepted me as captain, and I am grateful for that. To the world, for the time being, I will remain Captain Adams — the Captain Adams they have known for so long. Not all will accept me as you have.”

  A murmur of agreement ran through her loyal crew, although the newcomers still regarded her with suspicion.

  "When we are out at sea, I will be as I am now,” she said, dressed in her shirt and breeches but with her long longs flowing in the wind. “But should we come across another ship, or even when we dock at the port, I will disguise myself as a man. That way I can keep our reputation as the strongest, most powerful pirate ship that ever sailed across these waters intact."

  All eyes turned to her, and she saw her first mate nod in approval. She knew that the idea of having a woman in charge was difficult for many of the pirates, but she was going to prove to the world that she could captain a ship – and captain it well.

  “Should I hear that any of you have spoken of my true identity, I will make sure that your feet meet the plank,” she warned, her voice dropping. “Except the weights in your pockets will make it impossible to go anywhere but below the waves.” The crew grew silent once again. “I demand loyalty, just as my father did. Anyone who crosses me will be chased across the seas until their life is brought to an end by my hand.” Eleanor knew she had to captain with a strong hand, ensuring her power remained intact. She would do what she had to. “Stay loyal to me and you will be paid well. I have no desire to lower any of the standards my father set. A devoted crew is worth more than any treasure we can find. Although,” she continued, managing to smile just a little, “We have more than enough of that already.”

  The crew murmured again, but this time the tone was light.

  “Now, we toast to Captain Adams,” she finished, nodding to Morgan, who began to hand out the liquor she had set aside. “We will drop anchor and spend the remainder of the evening and the night in this place. Remember Captain Adams. The best and bravest of us all.” She lifted her glass high, hearing the sailors mutter her words back to her, before draining her glass. Then, turning on her heel, she marched back into her father’s cabin – which she could now call her own.

  The brandy burned down her throat and into her chest, helping her keep her resolve until the door shut behind her. It was only then that she allowed herself to sag against it, weakness seeping into her limbs as the loss of her father struck her anew. He was the only family she had ever had, and now he was gone. It was quite true that some of the crew were like family to her as well, but blood ties were different. Tears began to drip from her eyes down onto her cheeks as she put her hat back down on the writing desk by the large window, seating herself in the chair beside it. Looking out across the sea, she saw the sun begin to sink low in the sky. It would soon hit the horizon, turning the sea red and gold. It was always a beautiful sight to behold, but Eleanor’s heart was still heavy with grief and pain.

  She would captain as her father had, being both strong and generous. Her father’s kindness to the poor was something she would continue, helping those who had no means to support themselves. Eleanor knew it would take some time for the new crew hands to accept her, and they might still refuse to give her their loyalty, in which case there was only one end for them. Harsh and unyielding, Eleanor was determined to have a faithful and devoted crew, one who would do as she asked whenever she asked. She could not demand anything less.

  Thomas grimaced at the three pirates now being frogmarched into the prison cells. They had said very little, but one had told him that Captain Wayland was now at the bottom of the ocean, killed by Captain Adams.

  Unfortunately for him, the Gunsway was now far beyond his reach. The clouds had cleared just as dawn had broken, and he had urged his crew to reach the wreckage of the Savage Soul as quickly as they could. He had to confess some disappointment at finding it a wreckage with only three pirates on board, who had been attempting to put some kind of raft together in order to make their escape to Port Royal. Had he captured Captain Wayland, then that might have been some consolation, but to discover that Captain Adams had killed the man simply brought him more frustration.

  “And you have no idea where the Gunsway might be?” he asked again, as the men were locked in. “I promise you that, if you tell me something, then it will be better for you. I can ensure you do not swing from the gallows.”

  One of the men stepped forward, his face pressed against the bars. “And you are asking me to trust your word on that, are you?”

  Thomas was affronted, glaring at the pirate. “I am a captain in the Royal Navy, not some lowly pirate that lies and cheats and steals their way across this world. My word can be trusted!”

  “Then let’s have your word on parchment,” the pirate replied, still sneering. “Prove to me that you’ll give us our lives and then, perhaps, we might tell you something about where the Gunsway might be going.”

  “They killed your captain!” Thomas replied, hotly. “Why do you not just give them up?”

  In response, the pirate simply spat at Thomas’ feet, muttering something about ‘the code’ as he went to sit down in the corner of the cell.

  Thomas burned with anger, wanting to march into the cell and grab the man by the throat until he gave up the location of the Gunsway, but knew he could not. His fists clenched, fury bubbled in his veins until he had to force himself to walk away before he reacted badly. The pirates’ mocking laughter followed his steps as he made his way back outside, heat climbing up his neck and into his cheeks.

  “They’re not giving anything up then, sir?” Taylor, waiting for him, asked.

  “They want my word on parchment that they’ll not swing first.”

  Taylor snorted indelicately. “Most likely they won’t be able to read a word you’ve written, sir. Are you going to do it?”

  Thomas sighed heavily. “If we want to catch the Gunsway, then yes, I’m going to have to. Have the clerk write up a contract at once. I want the ship readied within the hour. We set sail again immediately.”

  The captain nodded and walked away, leaving Thomas alone. For a brief mo
ment, he thought about heading towards the tavern and seeing if he could find that mysterious woman who had been so warm and tender, but banished the idea almost immediately. He had to stay focused on the task at hand, not become distracted by thoughts of her. It still frustrated him that he had very little idea of who she was, although he was also growing irritated with his own inability to remove her from his thoughts. Even with the Gunsway situation on his mind, she still lingered there. What was it about her that had been so enchanting? It had been a quick tumble, that was all. So why had her eyes entranced him so? Why did his fingers long to trace over her soft skin once more? If only he knew her name, then perhaps he might find some semblance of peace, knowing that he would somehow be able to track her down, but as he did not, she remained as some kind of unsolvable mystery.

  “Sir!”

  The clerk interrupted his thoughts, holding out a parchment for him.

  “That was swift,” Thomas muttered, pulling his thoughts from the mysterious lady and focusing on the paper he held. “You have done well.”

  “I know how important this is to you, sir,” the man replied, bowing slightly. “I wish you luck in finding Captain Adams. I am sure he will be in your custody soon.”

  Thomas grimaced. “One can only hope,” he muttered, before striding back along towards the cells.

  10

  Two months later

  Eleanor sat quietly, looking over the maps on her father’s table. Following the battle with the Savage Soul they had traded the treasure for gold, and stopped at the ports where her father had frequently dispensed of his riches to the poor. There had been a few minor skirmishes along the way, and while there had never been any risk to her experienced crew, she had proven herself as much of a leader as her father ever was. She still felt she had so much to learn, but she had earned the crew’s respect and loyalty, and that was what mattered most.