It took everything within me not to cry out with excitement.
I handed the captain his ale, my hands shaking with anticipation.
In just a few days, I would get the answers I wanted from my mother.
A hint of a smile tilted Marcus’s lips before he took another bite of his dinner.
The rain started as soon as we were out of Matanzas Bay. It blew hard, and the ship rose and dipped precariously, causing those who were sick to feel worse.
Ned’s moans could be heard every time I was near him, and when I caught his attention, he scowled at me. As soon as my chores were done, I went to Marcus’s cabin to be free of Ned. Since I hadn’t been sick, I couldn’t have gotten him sick—though he didn’t know that.
Clouds darkened the sky, so I lit the lamp and went to the bookshelf. Marcus had suggested I read Daniel Defoe’sRobinson Crusoenext, but it was the Bible that caught my eye tonight.
The front page was full of Marcus’s family names, and I couldn’t help but wonder who they were. Each name was a different story of heartache, love, loss, and hope. I let my finger trail the names. Donal, Fiona, Alastair, Alish, Liam ... and Maxwell.
Maxwell MacDougal. Did Marcus even remember what it was like to be Maxwell MacDougal? Did he want to become him again someday? Or did he plan to die as a pirate? I wanted to tell him he had a choice in the matter, but I wasn’t one to counsel him. For so long, I hadn’t felt like I had freedom of choice in my lives. Perhaps Marcus and I had more in common than I first realized. We both had two names, two different lives, and uncertainty about the future. Maybe that was why I was so drawn to him. We were kindred spirits.
Something outside the window caught my attention.
TheOcean Cursewas approaching a small frigate on the portside.
Apprehension tightened my chest, and I quickly replaced the Bible before I ran out of Marcus’s cabin.
Rain pelted my face as I looked up at the mainmast, my heart falling at the sight.
The black death’s head flag whipped in the wind, the skull and crossbones taunting the frigate and all who were aboard her. The only time the ship flew the pirate flag was when they were overtaking another vessel.
As a crew member, I was now a pirate, whether I wanted to be or not. If Grandfather saw me now, he’d realize his worst fear had come true.
I was no better than my mother.
A cheer arose from the pirates as every able-bodied man stood on the main deck of theOcean Curse, their hands raised in victory as several of them boarded the frigate.
Wave after wave caused the ship to rise and fall. I hadn’t noticed the chase because the ship had been careening wildly for hours.
As the pirates overtook the frigate, Marcus and Captain Zale stood at the rail, the wind whipping their coats and hair about them just as it did the pirate flag. They were a formidable pair, their swords at their sides, and though Marcus had been kind and thoughtful toward me, watching him now, capturing the frigate, my body trembled with fear.
Yet, it wasn’t the terror of being captured or tortured or abused that scared me. It was knowing that my traitorous heart didn’t care that he was a pirate, while my mind screamed at me to retreat. To put up my defenses and push Marcus Zale from my life.
I wanted to cry, or yell, or demand that he let the frigate go. Not only because the people aboard it didn’t deserve to be robbed, but because I didn’t want it to be Marcus who did the plundering.
Why did men like him and Andrew think their own desires were more important than anyone else’s? Their choices hurt the people around them, yet they somehow rationalized their behavior.
The injustice in the world was maddening, no matter whatcentury I occupied. I hated how defenseless I felt, how weak and insignificant. It would be easier to give in and join the madness, to satisfy my own desires. It didn’t matter if I was in 1727 or 1927; the struggle to do the right thing was eternal.
Yet, my conscience cried out to me. The words I’d spoken to Andrew just last night reverberated in my mind. There was right and wrong. There was truth and justice—no matter how much they wanted to deny it. They sought to change the truth when it didn’t serve them.
Marcus grabbed a rope and stepped onto the railing to board the frigate, but he turned and his stormy gaze caught mine.
I stared at him defiantly. The rain continued to slash against me, soaking my clothing and mingling with my tears, but I didn’t care.
Marcus’s chest rose and fell as a war waged within his eyes. He didn’t tear his gaze from mine. Would he board the frigate? Rob her of her cargo and her dignity? I held my breath, wanting him to make the right choice.
Captain Zale said something to him and then, holding a rope, leapt from the railing and disappeared.
Marcus set his jaw and followed.
I was huddled on my cot in the dim cabin, swimming in the shirt and trousers Marcus had lent to me earlier that week after I bathed. My wet clothes were strung on the ropes that were still hanging in the room, and my hair was unbound, drying around my shoulders.
