Black Mist E-Book

Les Shaw

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

Set during the Revolutionary War, a group of women crew a sailing ship. Donned the "Black Mist", the ship is sailed along the coast from Boston to the Carolinas, terrorizing British shipping lanes along the way. Led by a female captain, "Black Mist" becomes one of the most notorious pirate ships in the Atlantic Ocean. However, that does not stop a few daring men from finding love among the ship's headstrong female crew members.

Leseprobe

Les Shaw

Black Mist

This story is for the girls I used to work with. From sheer boredom we started it, but because of enjoyment we finished it. I want to thank both of you for the best three days I ever had at work. Thanks ladies.BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

Chapter 1: Acquisition

Leslie Lubeau, five feet five inches tall with deep red hair and emerald green eyes, stands near the hatch and watches her husband carefully, yet confidently steer the ship through the fog bank.  She can hear the voices of the crew on the other ship clearly.  But, though she listens closely, she can barely hear anyfrom their vessel.

Without a word, she looks at her husband of five years and wonders again if this will be their last trip.  Catching her gaze, Jean-Paul motions her to his side.  Soundlessly, she complies.

"You look pensive, Cheri.  Are you not happy?" he whispers into her ear.

Before she can reply, Nick steps around the mast and catches his captain's eye.  He nods.

"Go below Cheri.  You should not witness this."  He pushes her toward the hatch.  "Go!" he whispers.

Slipping down the ladder, she turns to glance back at him.  The look on Jean-Paul's face is one she has seen before.  It is a look of leashed excitement.  He catches her gaze again and smiles at her encouragingly as the ketch glides out into bright sunlight.  She smiles in return as she closes the hatch and secures it.

All she can do is-wait-as she hears the shouts of frustration and rage from the other vessel.  She can imagine the sloop's captain staring in astonishment as the 'James O'Shay' slipped out of the fog.

Thinking back, she can remember the day she had first met Jean-Paul.

**"A French pirate with a ship named the 'James O'Shay'?" she had asked him.

He had merely grinned and answered, "Of course, Cheri.  What else would I call it?"

A lot of different names had trembled on the tip of her tongue, but she had clamped her lips shut.  That had been five years ago.  A month later, he had told her he might change the name, but he had been too busy to do so.  With relations deteriorating between England and the Colonies, he had found easy pickings at sea. ** 

The sounds of battle once again intrude into her mind.  She notices that the ship is gliding back into the fog bank.  Jean-Paul had not called her from the cabin and she shivers in sudden premonition.  He had always called her above deck before leaving, so that she could fire the final destructive blast to the other ship.

Rising, she crosses the Captain's cabin.  She steps into the main cabin just as Nick and another crewman straighten from placing a man on one of the bunks.

"Tell Marshall to drop sails and hold her as steady as possible.  I'll be up shortly."  Nick says as he nods dismissal to the other man.

"Aye sir" Dash says and disappears.

Without a word, Leslie crosses the cabin, steps past Nick, and kneels beside Jean-Paul.  She takes his hand.  There are no tears.  They would come later.

Jean-Paul opens his eyes.  In them she can read sorrow and finality.  "Not a good birthday present, is it Cheri?" he says.

For a moment, she can think of nothing to say.  Then she reaches to gently touch his face.  “I love you.” she says simply.

He closes his eyes and sighs.  The hand she is holding nearly crushes hers for a moment.  “How long I have waited to hear those words Cheri.  You have made an old man very happy.”

Releasing her hand, he reaches toward the chain around his neck.  Slowly, as though the effort takes what little strength he possesses, he lifts the chain over his head.  He looks at the amulet in the dim half light of the cabin then he leans and drops it over Leslie’s head.  His hands rest on her shoulders a moment and he looks deeply into her eyes.  A deep breath and he feels her shoulders straighten with resolve.

Lying back, he looks at Nick.  “The ship is Leslie’s.  Serve her as you would me, my friend.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Leslie sees Nick straighten and salute his captain.  “Aye sir” he says simply.  But, Jean-Paul can no longer hear him.  His hand slips from Leslie’s.

Without a word, she removes a scarf from her pocket and places it carefully over Jean-Paul’s face.  She leans her forehead on the edge of the bunk for a moment. 

The violent tilt of the ship brings her back to the present.  Her head snaps up and her jaw hardens.  She stands and turns her back on Death.  ‘The ship was hers.’ he had said.  ‘Well, she had to get it out of this predicament first’, she thinks.

She speaks to Nick over her shoulder as she steps into the Captain’s cabin and opens a chest on the floor.  “Get topside and raise the sails -- all of them.  When they catch the wind, move forward for a count of thirty, then swing hard to starboard and get us into the sun.  I’ll be up shortly to get my bearings.”  She closes the door, not even waiting to see whether or not he moves to obey her.

Moments later, she smiles slightly when she feels the ship catch the wind.  Her question had been answered.  Nick would follow her orders.  The rest of the crew, she hopes, will follow him -- at least, for a while.  She had better hurry if she is going to be on deck when they break cover.

The bow of the ship breaks cover as Leslie steps out of the aft hatch seemingly caught in a red aura emanating from the amulet around her neck.  Dressed in Jean-Paul’s clothes, one can definitely tell that she is female.  Her hair is loose about her shoulders and shines with hidden fire.  A black mask over her eyes and nose completes the outfit.

Nick does a double-take, but she does not seem to notice as she gently nudges him aside.  She grins in understanding.

“Prepare to come about -- hard to starboard again” she says.  “Forward guns prepare to fire – on my order.  We’ll come up behind them.  I want that ship!”

Her voice sends Nick forward.  His voice is quiet as he passes along her orders.

It has only taken seconds, but already the wheel post is gliding into the sunlight.  She stares forward and squints.  In unconscious imitation of Jean-Paul, she smiles.  Now, she finally understands what he had felt, and how he had managed to navigate the treacherous waters of the coastline.

“Hard to starboard ---- Now!” she shouts and cranks the wheel.  The ship swings about so fast that it nearly lays over.  Leslie barely ducks in time to miss being bashed by the mizzen boom.  Silently, she watches the ‘Jasper Twin’s’ crew scramble for their aft guns.

“Forward guns – fire!” she commands.

There is a roar as her command is followed.

“Reload for second volley.  Nick all hands on deck.  Prepare for boarding -- second volley – fire!”

She watches as the second volley destroys what had been the aft cannons and severs their mainmast.

Along the port side, she watches her crewmen crouch in preparation for boarding.  Three of them hold grappling hooks attached to ropes.  The ‘James O’Shay’ silently slides through the rising smoke.

At the wheel, Leslie stands tensed.  But, the retaliation she expects never comes.  On the deck of the slowly sinking vessel stand her captain, four passengers, and what is left of her crew.

The grappling hooks catch the ‘Jasper Twin’ and lash the two ships together.  Leslie’s crewmen pour over the railings.  Lashing the wheel, Leslie moves to join them.   

By the time she reaches the rail, her crew has relieved the others of their weapons.  Nick has, she notices, left the captain with his sword.  Her eyes lock with his as she grasps the rigging and swings lithely up onto the railing.  With exaggerated gallantry, Nick offers her his hand.

“I have respectfully left the captain for you to deal with.” he says.

Her laughter ripples out across the now silent waters.  She steps down and looks at the passengers, then dismisses them.  Turning her attention to the captain, she speaks to Nick.  “Take our guests below and let them retrieve the necessary personal belongings.  Have Dash and Tag start transferring water and provisions to the ‘O’Shay’.  As soon as I have dealt with the captain, we shall see what the hold contains.”

Nick nods.  “Aye, and what do we do with the crew?”

“Confine them in our hold.” she orders.  He starts to walk away, but her voice stops him.  “Put the young lady in the captain’s cabin.  She and I will share.”

He opens his mouth to protest but, as her gaze strikes his, he closes it and moves away to carry out her orders.  Her gaze swings back to the captain.

Her left hand moves to rest on the hilt of her rapier.  An understanding smiles settles on her lips. 

He continues to frown.  The look in his eyes rejects her understanding.  Her smile fades and she sighs.  Stepping forward, she draws her rapier. 

“I had hoped to do this without more bloodshed captain.” she says.  He lifts his sword and touches its tip to hers.  “But, I can see that you won’t admit defeat gracefully.”  She shrugs nonchalantly.  “Have it your way.”  The shrug has the desired effect of distracting him momentarily.  She flips her wrist and his sword is ripped from his grip.

Astonished, he watches it arch through the air and embed itself into what is left of the mainmast.  When his gaze returns to the woman before him, she is sliding her rapier back into its scabbard.  Then, as if to rub salt into the wound, she waves him to precede her much as a man might do for a woman.

He has no choice but to obey.  Crossing to the railing he stops and looks behind him.  Half of his crew lay dead on the deck.  He feels sorrow at not being able to bury them.  Turning away from the scene he steps over the railing onto the deck of the ‘James O’Shay’.  The man named Dash is there to greet him with a pistol, he waves him forward. 

A voice above his head stops him.  He glances behind and up.  “Captain?” she says, hesitates, and bites her lip as their eyes meet.  She speaks to Dash.  “Keep him above deck.  He has crew that must be interred.  Send Hook and Gin to prepare the bodies – fifteen minutes – no more.”  Her gaze moves to the captain.  “A chance for a blanket eulogy is all I can give you.” she says.

“Thou art kind lady pirate.  I would not get this treatment from any other.”  The captain replies, sarcastically, not actually smiling.

She frowns and nods.  “Right” she says harshly.  Next instant, she has turned away.  “Nick, let’s check that hold and find out what they were hauling.”

The captain watches as she moves across his deck and disappears below.

Thirty minutes later, Leslie steps over the railing.  “Raise the mains and the mizzen.  She’s just before going down.  I don’t want to be here when she does.” She glances at the captain and nods to Dash.  He lowers the pistol and walks away.  “You are free to go where you wish sir.  But, please do not try anything.  You will be watched.”

He follows as she moves down the deck toward the wheel.  It is still hard to believe that she is captain of this vessel.  Watching her handle the wheel, and this all man crew, brings a grudging respect.

They slide away from the ‘Jasper Twin’ and the ship pitches slightly.  He hears a sucking noise and turns to see his ship slide under the surface.

As he turns back, he sees Leslie look up.  He follows her gaze to the top of the mainmast --to the crow’s nest where there is not supposed to be one.

“How do we fare Dane?” she shouts.

“All clear”, is the answer.

Next instant, the man disappears as the ‘James O’Shay’ slips into a fog bank.  It is so thick that the forward half of the ship can barely be seen.

‘How can she steer?’ he thinks.  Panic knots his insides when he hears the crash of water against rock.  Leslie holds a steady course momentarily. 

Her eyes shift to port and she nods.  A hesitation, then she cranks the wheel one full turn to port and stops.  He hears a slight rustle as one of the sails is dropped.  Next, she cranks the wheel back to starboard one turn and stops.  Time itself seems to stop as he watches her eyes narrow in concentration.  Then, the sound of another sail dropping catches his ear and the ship falls off the wind.  They are coasting now.  He silently watches as she turns the wheel a quarter turn to starboard them almost immediately cranks it to port so hard she nearly swamps them.  The ship glides into sunlight.

He does not recognize the area.  Glancing toward the woman, he sees her relinquishing the wheel once again.

He hears her say, “You know the course from here.  Have the crew assemble on the starboard bow in one hour.  We’ll bury Jean-Paul then.”

Ignoring him, she hoists herself onto the cabin roof and sits.  He moves to join her and finds Nick barring his way.

“She requires privacy.  Come, we’ll see about your crew.” he says.

With a last glance, the captain follows Nick forward.

An hour later, the crew gathers -- those not doing guard duty, that is.  Dropping from her place atop the cabin, Leslie crosses the deck.  Dropping to one knee, she reaches out and places a hand on the shrouded body.

The captain stands near the port rail.  Curiosity about the deceased drew him.

“Goodbye Jean-Paul.  I shall miss you dearly my husband.”  Leslie’s words take away any thought he had about nothing surprising him anymore.  He feels frozen as he watches the burial ceremony.  While Nick says a few words, the lady stands beside him rigidly.  When the body slides into the water, she watches impassively as it sinks.

Without a word, she walks away.  A sudden scream causes her to stop in surprise.  She spins and races toward the aft hatch as another scream cuts the air.  This one is not completed as she drops out of sight.

Below decks, the captain hears the sounds of a scuffle -- several thuds, then silence.  He sees Nick start down the ladder as a shot rings out.  Not bothering with the steps, Nick drops the last two feet to the deck.

The captain reaches the hatch just as Nick lunges.  A slight scuffle – another shot.  Almost instantly Nick’s face returns to the foot of the ladder.

“I need Mooch down here – NOW!” he says.  Panic makes his voice harsh.

Mooch shoves past the captain and drops to the lower deck.  He disappears immediately.

When she had heard the scream, Leslie had instantly remembered that she had not seen Ross recently.  And, she had seen the way he had looked at the female.  ‘Aft hatch.’ she had thought.  ‘Hopefully catch him by surprise.’

She is grateful for Jean-Paul’s tutoring her how to drop and roll from the upper deck.  The drop and roll had saved her life.  She had rolled to her feet and lunged.  Catching Ross around the neck, she had dragged him off the female before he could react.  His elbow landed in her midsection and broke her hold.

She had stepped away and breathed deeply.  Then, she had kicked out, aiming for his head.  It had landed on his shoulder.

Fighting her pain, she had set herself for another lunge when he had spun and grabbed a gun from beside the bunk.  Luckily, she had changed the direction of her lunge.  And, the female prisoner had kicked him in the leg.  Otherwise, she would have been joining Jean-Paul in the depths.  Instead, the bullet had passed through the fleshy part of her shoulder.

It was enough to spin and slam her awkwardly into the wall.  As she slid down the wall, Nick had dropped into the cabin and lunged toward Ross.  They grappled then another shot and Ross drops.

After that, she felt darkness creep toward her.  She fought it and won.  Her arm hurts terribly and the rest of her body seems to echo the pain.  She looks at Nick as Mooch steps into the picture.

“I haven’t felt this awful since Jean-Paul got me drunk last month.” she says as her head drops back against the wall and darkness closes in.

Standing near the open hatch, the captain listens to the voices below until Nick escorts Miss Thorn to the upper deck.  He is obliged to care for her.

Quite some time later, the female captain’s voice splits the silent air.  “Don’t argue with me just get me above deck--Now!”  Her tone plainly says, if her assistant does not help, she will do it herself.

“And what good will are you to us if dead?” Nick replies just as loudly.

“We have passengers to put off.  And, as captain of this vessel, it is my duty to see to this personally.” she explains.

Silence reigns for a moment then he sees Nick step from the aft hatch, turn, and reach down.  Leslie follows him, breathing heavily.  Her right arm is in a sling and blood still stains her blouse.  They come around the cabin and stop near the mainmast.  The ‘she captain’ leans heavily upon it.  She glares momentarily at Nick.

Suddenly, she smiles and steps away from the mast.  She turns and crosses to where he and Miss Thorn are seated.

“Captain, my crewmen are readying a lifeboat for your crew and passengers.  If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you your destination.” she says as she moves away toward the wheel post.  Nearing the mainmast, she pauses and looks into the rigging above them.  A slight smile settles on her face.

Nick’s voice can be heard.  “Bring her about 180* -- into the wind.  Stand by the sails.”

The captain feels the ship tilt beneath his feet then he hears the sails snap.  When he glances up, the sails have gone slack.  But, even as he watches, they fill once more as the ship turns into the wind.  The further they turn, the slower the ship moves, until it has all but stopped.

“Down sails – drop anchor.” Nick orders.

Leslie takes the captain’s arm and hurries him out of the way of the dropping sails.  She does not speak again until the ship sets dead in the water then she turns and waves her good arm toward the horizon.

He looks and sees a smudge of blue in the east.

“Your destination – It is a one day trip from here.” she says.

Nick speaks from behind them.  “Lady Captain?  The life boat is ready.”

The captain notices that he uses the title in a respectful tone.

She nods.  “Inform our passengers that it is time to disembark.  I long for home Nick.”  She sighs, “Never mind.”

“Mooch and Dane are bringing the ‘Jasper Twin’s’ crew up now.  I thought it best to put them aboard first.” he says.

“Good idea – Passengers next – Captain last.” she says, grinning at him as the crewmen are put into the lifeboat.

When the passengers are brought up, Miss Thorn separates herself from the others and crosses to stop before Leslie.  She curtsies before speaking.  “Lady Captain?  I have a gift for thee – For saving my life—and my maidenhood.”

One of the men crosses quickly and grasps Miss Thorn’s arm.  “Art thou insane – Giving a gift to a pirate?  Huh!  Thou wilt do no such thing.  Now, accompany me to the lifeboat.” he says.

“Uncle Charles!” exclaims Miss Thorn in protest.

He ignores her and, hand firmly clasped around her arm, turns back toward the others. 

Without thinking, Leslie lashes out with her foot and breaks his grip – And nearly his arm.  No one else has time to move. 

Before he can recover, Leslie has moved Miss Thorn to stand beside her captain.

“Please?  Hurt him no more.” Miss Thorn pleads.

Never taking her eyes from Charles, Leslie speaks to her.  “I will not harm him if he peacefully returns to where the rest of the passengers are waiting to board.  If not, I am sure we can procure him a weapon from somewhere.”

Charles pales at Leslie’s words but straightens and glances at his niece.  “Kindly come with me as thou hast been told Sylvia.” he says.

Sylvia glances to the Lady Captain then looks squarely at her uncle.  “Sorry, I am uncle, but I will give the gift before joining thee.  I AM old enough to make decisions for mine own self.” she says.

Glancing at the Lady Captain, he can tell patience is NOT one of her strong points.  He glares down at Sylvia.  “Very well, but thy father will hear of this impertinence.  I shall leave it to him to discipline thee.” He then turns on his heel and joins the others.

When he is securely aboard the lifeboat, Leslie turns toward Sylvia.  “Forgive my seeming rudeness and brutality.  It is, alas, sometimes necessary.”

“Thou art forgiven Lady Pirate.”  Sylvia hesitates as she removes a brooch from the lapel of her dress and extends it.  “It is a small token of gratitude -- Mayhap not worth much to the likes of thee.  It was a gift from my mother when she lay upon her deathbed.”

The captain watches as the Lady Pirate accepts the brooch and pins it to the front of her shirt.  “Thank you, Miss Thorn.  Perchance, we shall meet again someday.” Leslie says and bows slightly.

“Perchance.” returns Sylvia as she turns toward the lifeboat.

The Lady Captain turns toward her captive captain.  “Would it seem strange to you if I asked your name?” she asks.

“Yeah, it would be a bit odd.” He hesitates, but she continues to hold his gaze.  “My name is Tom Chain, Captain in His Majesty’s Royal Navy.”

“Thank you, sir.  I am truly sorry that I cannot give you my name.  Should we ever meet again, in polite company, I want no repercussions to hurt anyone.  You understand?” she says.

“I have no need of a name.  Thy voice and eyes shall be sufficient for recognition.” he says.

After a moment of stunned silence, she frowns and waves him to the lifeboat.  He turns his back, enters the boat, and does not look at the lady pirate again.

“Hoist the anchor – Raise sails.  Let’s head for home.”  He can hear her voice ring across the water as she steps to the wheel.  The lifeboat tilts in the wake of the ketch as she moves away.

Chapter 2: The Offer

Two weeks later, under cover of darkness, the ‘James O’Shay’ glides through Boston Harbor and disappears in the shadows of the headland cliffs to the south.  Unknown except to the Indians of the area, there is a cove buried inside one of the cliffs.

The cove is completely enclosed by a rock dome overhead.  The roof is a latticework of bare rock, too barren and treacherous for anyone to attempt to cross.  At the edge of this latticework, there is a small settlement.

This settlement contains the dwelling places for the crew and families of the ‘James O’Shay’.  At the moment, it seems as if it may become a ghost settlement.  In the largest dwelling, the crewmen have gathered to talk.  It would seem, however, that tempers are on the rise.

“I don’t care if Jean-Paul did leave her the ship.  I can’t work for a woman.  It was bad enough she went along when he was alive.  But now…No, I won’t go for it.  Sorry, Nick.”  Dane stops and looks at Leslie apologetically.  “It’s nothing personal ma’am.”

With a nod, she replies “I understand Dane.”

Standing, she looks out at the men she has lived with for the past five years.  Each is as dear to her as a brother, but if she cannot have their loyalty…?  She squashes the thought.  “I simply want to tell you that you’re a good crew.  But…if you can’t handle me as captain, draw your pay and head for Boston.  I’ll not have a crew that isn’t totally loyal to me.”

There is a soft shuffle of feet as these men realize what she has said.

Mooch stands.  “I got no family and Jean-Paul was like a son to me.  I’ll stay, missy, and be glad to” he says.

She smiles at him and looks back to the group.  “How about the rest of you?” she asks.

A quiet grumble spreads through the crowd.

Leslie turns to Nick.  “Those who want their pay can get it in the office in one hour.”  She sounds disgusted.  After one last glance around the room, she turns on her heel and walks out the door.

Nick finds her a few minutes later standing beside a brass fountain in the garden.  The sound of his boots draws her around to face him.

“Mooch and I will remain.  The rest of the crew is packing.” he says.

She sighs and turns back to the fountain.  “Tell them not to bother.  I’m going to Boston for a week.  When I return, I’ll have a surveyor with me.  Jean-Paul left a will.  Everything comes to me, including this tract of land.  Each of the men will be deeded a parcel of land – three acres.  The only stipulation I will make is:  If they ever decide to become a true settlement, my crew will be allowed to come and go at will.  My rules will apply to the crew’s behavior.  If I ever get another crew, that is.”

Nick nods and steps closer to her.  Slipping his arms about her, he draws her against him and rests his chin on her hair.

She stiffens momentarily but, when he makes no further move, relaxes.  Without turning to him, she asks a simple question.  “Why?”

Nick answers softly as he gently rocks her from side to side.  “I can’t answer that child.  Only God knows why he took Jean-Paul now.”  He hesitates as a shudder passes through her.  “The hurt will pass in time.  I wish there were some way I could help.”

Her hand pats his arm.  “You are helping Nick, just by holding me right now.”  Her voice is thick with the tears he realizes are softly splashing onto his bare arm. 

Without another word, he simply holds her tighter.

“Oh, sorry!” says Mooch, his voice drawing them apart.