Turning to Charlie and Maston, he growled. “I should have you both flogged for such antics during a raid! Now back to work before I dock your portion of the loot!”
“Aye,” they both grumbled as Blake turned to Miss Hyde. “Best get below, Miss.”
Her eyes met his briefly, etched in fear, aye, but also with determination and a strength he’d not expected, before she nodded and descended the hatch.
There was no time to ponder the enigmatic woman as the next three hours were encompassed with boarding the merchant schooner, keeping their crew subdued, and hauling up what turned out to be quite the impressive load of goods from their hull.
Their captain, a giant of a man with a bulbous nose, receding chin, and grey hair that resembled a porcupine was none too pleased to see the wealth he hoped to make stolen by a band of cutthroats.
Blake swept off his tricorn and bowed before the man with a flourish. “I do thank you, Captain, for your generous donation to our cause.”
The man merely scowled and spat to the side. If his eyes were armed, they’d have killed Blake a thousand times over by now. As it was, Blake spun on his heels, descended to the jollyboat, leaving the poor merchant crew alive and well and their schooner still aground on the shoals. With the tide now going out, they’d be unable to free themselves for some time. Curses were hurled at him and his men as they rowed back to theSummons, but Blake could only smile at the plunder they had acquired. ’Twould keep his crew satisfied for quite some time. Yet for Blake, ’twas more than the wealth. A mist of seawater sprayed over him as the boat leapt over the waves. He twisted the Ring on his finger. Once again, it had proven its power—power over tide, waves, and wind. He couldn’t wait to discover what other gifts it held. Gifts that would put Blake in control of not only his destiny, but over the destiny of others as well.
“What is the sum of it?” Blake asked Finn as he entered his cabin several hours later. After he’d gotten the ship underway, he’d been waiting to hear the value of the loot they’d plundered.
Rummy slouched in a chair to the left of Blake’s desk, bottle of rum in his hand, while Maston stood to Blake’s right, fluttering the feather of a quill pen over his cheek.
Finn’s eyes sparkled with greed. He wagged his brows and drew the pipe from his mouth. “A good catch, says I, Cap’n.” He held up a piece of parchment. “Five pounds o’ spices: pepper, nutmeg, and cinnamon. Ten pounds o’ sugar. Eighteen bottles o’ rum.”
At this, Rummy shouted with glee.
“Several bottles o’ some fancy wine, twenty muskets, thirty blades, fifty pounds o’ gunpowder, two trunks full o’ fine clothin’, all velvet an’ lace, dried beans, coffee, salted meat, tobacco. An’ the best part?” He grinned. “A chest full o’ pieces of eight, silver coins, and gold guineas!”
“Quite some haul,Capitaine.” Maston laid down the pen.
“Indeed.” More than Blake had expected on such a small ship.
Bandit obviously agreed as he leapt up and down on Blake’s desk, squealing with enthusiasm. Behind him, a sinking sun spread a rainbow of colors across the horizon, announcing the end of a productive day.
Finn scratched his thick beard and uttered a deep sigh. “Ye’ll get yer five shares, Cap’n. Maston an’ me gets two, an’ the rest o’ the crew gets one, ‘cept Pedro gets half a share.” As if summoned by his name, the lad bounded into the cabin, his admiring gaze on Blake.
Finn growled. “Don’t see why this French popinjay gets as much as me, Cap’n. Don’t seem fair.”
“French what?” Maston fingered the hilt of his cutlass.
“Sink me, I meant no insult. Jist makin’ an observation.” Finn settled his pipe at the corner of his mouth.
“You agreed to the code when you signed on with me,” Blake interjected, gesturing for Maston to stand down.
Pedro stepped forward. “We shouldn’t complain. Captain Keene is the best pirate captain on the Spanish Main! I’m happy wit’ my half share.”
“Cause yer just a silly lad.” Finn mumbled through his pipe, then glanced back at the parchment in his hand.
Something in the way he stared at the list of plunder gave Blake pause.In the five years Finn had sailed with him, he’d become a trusted friend. Still, the quartermaster had taken no pains to hide his lust for wealth. During many a night when they’d both been far too deep in their cups, he had shared with Blake how he’d grown up poor on the streets of Portsmouth and watched his mum and younger brother starve to death. Could Blake trust him with so much wealth?
Could he trust any of them? They were pirates, after all.
“I say this calls fer a celebration.” Rummy attempted to rise but plopped down into his seat again.
“Indeed,” Maston agreed.
It took no further convincing for Blake to open the cabinet and pull out several bottles. He pointed one at Finn. “See to it that the crew gets extra rations of rum this night. We have much to celebrate.”
b
The sun dipped below the horizon, dragging warmth and light over the sea, leaving dark waters in its wake. Emeline turned from the porthole, struck flint to steel, and lit the single lantern left to her in the tiny cabin. Along with the darkness, unnerving sounds rose around her—the eerie whine of a fiddle, a chorus of ribald shanties, shouts, curses, insults, and boasts.
Hence, when a knock rapped on her door, she was hesitant to answer it. When it opened and Charlie’s face appeared around the edge, Emeline breathed a sigh of relief and gestured her inside.