Cerulean Isle (7 page)
“Captain James Shanley?”
“Precisely. Now L’Ollon is on a quest to reclaim his fortune. It begins with Shanley and will end with the Water People.”
Christoff came back and we followed him out of the tavern.
“That man was one of Shanley’s crewmates,” said Christoff as we walked along the main road. “I paid him an eight for directions to Shanley’s villa. I told him I wanted to buy the sloop.”
“How did you know he was one of Captain Shanley’s men?” I asked.
“Ah, it’s a skill that comes with time, lad. Experienced pirates always recognize a man of the same trade. Certain mannerisms tell a lot. Also, there is the scent.”
“Like sweat or old clothing?”
“No, lad. Though there is truth in that as well. I mean the scent of the sea, the perfume of the ocean air; the smell of a lifetime of sun, salt, and booze.” He paused. We had come to an intersection. “We must go left and then make our second right. The road will take us up a hill, and there among a coppice of palm trees waits Shanley’s villa. Come now, we are in need of haste. The
Obsidian
will make for the harbor in a half hour. The town will recognize her and Shanley’s men will come running to warn him.”
~~~~~~
Captain Shanley’s residence had two levels, a sharply gabled roof and wide clean windows. It was painted bright yellow with white detail around the doorways, rails, and windows. Near the main entrance stood two armed pirates, one with a sword and the other with a pistol. They tensed as we made our way across the lush green garden and over the smooth stone walkway. Christoff did not seem worried. We followed close behind him.
“What business do ya have ’ere?” asked one of the guards.
“Good day,” answered Christoff. “I am looking for the owner of the sloop.”
“Captain Shanley owns them ships. Is he expectin’ you?”
“No.”
The pirate’s brow dipped in disapproval. “Shanley don’t meet wit’ unexpected strangers.”
“I arrived by a charter ship three days ago. I am new to the Lesser Antilles and I mean to buy my own ship. If you’d rather I leave, I understand, only let your captain know that you stopped him from making a good deal of money.”
The two guards muttered to each other, then turned to us again. “Now see ’ere,” one began, “you speak like a wealthy seaman, so we’ll give you a chance t’ buy your way in, but your little monkeys will be waitin’ out ’ere. Got it?”
“Indeed.”
Christoff opened the brown purse and took out four silver coins. He held them in the sunlight. They gleamed, as did the eyes of the pirate guards. With a flick of his wrist, the coins flew through the air and landed at the feet of the men. They chimed as they struck the wooden porch. The men rushed to gather them up. After a brief moment of examination, they nodded to each other, stuffed the silver in their pockets and stepped aside, letting our quartermaster proceed through the wide front door.
“Go on,” yelled the guard with the pistol, lifting it and pointing it at us. “Me eyes be sick of lookin’ at ya!”
Grant and I ran down the walkway, through the garden and back onto the winding road. I expected the gun to explode as we ran.
“Gather your wits, my friend; it’s time to carry out our end of the deal.”
“Deal? There is no deal!”
“We have our orders, and if we don’t succeed, we’re dead, remember? I’ve broken into dozens of homes. This one will be no different. Besides, I have these lock picks; they’ll make the job easier.”
“What do we do first?”
“We sneak around to the rear of the house. Once inside, we listen for voices. Sound is a thief ’s best friend, Jacob. Whatever we hear will guide us. Ah, leave it to me. Just have your sword ready.”
“I’ll certainly use it if need be, but I cannot promise success.”
“Remember how you bested Beelo?”
“Yes. But I—”
“No worries. You have a natural talent with a sword. Now let’s go, we’ve wasted enough time. We must recover L’Ollon’s sea chart and that mysterious book.”
Grant and I found a window in the rear of the manor. An iron lock kept the two shutters closed. After Grant picked the lock and parted the shutters, we entered the house, finding ourselves in a large storage room filled with stacks of crates. With tender steps, we made our way through, being careful to disturb nothing. Light spilled in through the square window. The dusty air made the rays of sunshine look like milky white bars. Weathered trunks were concealed in one corner of the room.
“Let’s have a look,” said Grant. “Got to make fair use of these picks.”
“Let’s do the job and get out of here.”
“Don’t be scared. You’re the one with the sword.”
Grant knelt beside the biggest trunk and took the rusted lock in hand. He inserted his metal pick. With gentle pokes, he picked at the tumblers systematically. The pick snapped. He cursed under his breath, then produced another one. After several minutes, the rusted lock opened in his hand. He removed the lock, and we lifted the lid. A tattered, stained bundle of rags lay before us.
I grabbed the bundle of rags and lifted them out of the trunk, revealing a mass of glimmering gold.
Grant plunged his hands into the money. Heavy coins chimed as they fell through his fingers. Gold: solid, cold, and real.
“We can do it, Grant.”
“Do what? Oh, yes, the chart and the book. Yes, we can do it.”
“No. Not that. Let’s fill our pockets with as much as we can carry. We can make for the town, book passage to anywhere, and be free.”
“But I…” His voice trailed as he looked away.
“What is it?”
“I don’t want to escape. I am so close, don’t you see? We’ll soon be able to sign L’Ollon’s articles and become official members of the
Obsidian’s
crew.”
“Don’t you know what kind of man Jean L’Ollon is? A tyrant, a murderer!”
“What else could he be? That’s what makes him so infamous.” Grant reached into the pile of gold and scooped out a handful of coins. He put them in his pouch and then handed the pouch to me. It was heavy and could barely close. “Here, take this and go if you want your freedom. I’ll be fine alone. I can finish the job.”
The pouch in my hand held enough to purchase clothing, food, a room, and anything else to aid in my quest for freedom. My eyes went to the window. The hazy sunbeams lit the way.
I crept to the window, free to escape. Leaving Grant with the treasure trunk and his wayward dream, I stepped through the dusty sunbeam and touched the wooden sill. I heard the squawking of the birds and the rustle of the palms, the very distant churn of the ocean. I looked back at Grant, who stood alone, one hand on the door that would take him into Shanley’s home. I wondered what he was waiting for, and then I realized why he remained. He was making sure I escaped safely. The pouch of gold felt heavier suddenly, too heavy for me to carry alone.
I stepped away from the window. “Grant,” I called. “Wait for me.”
We stopped to listen for voices from within the manor and heard Christoff engaged in conversation.
“Christoff ’s voice is far and faint,” said Grant. “Any sounds we make will be just as faint to them. It should be safe to go in. Take off your shoes.”
The stone floor was cool and dry on our bare feet. We slipped out of the storage room and into the brightly lit hall.
The polished stone floor was pristine and smooth. The air smelled of sweet incense. To our left, a spiraled stairwell snaked up to the second level; to our right stretched a long hallway. The walls were finished with a shimmering gold paint and throughout the length of the hall stood marble tables with vases of bright flowers. Directly in front of us was a foyer boasting a circular fountain. Crystal water cascaded from a stone seashell. The stream created subtle rippling waves of light on the ceiling. The quivering beams illuminated the walls and filled the entire room with a warm yellow glow.
“You’re asking a lot for such a small ship, Shanley.” Christoff’s voice was louder, likely a room away.
We needed to move on. As we started for the stairwell, we heard footsteps approaching. We raced for the stairs and began our silent ascent to the second floor. I clutched the handle of my sword to keep it from clanging against the iron rails.
Looking down from the second floor into the foyer, we saw Christoff. In front of him stood a partially bald man with a round belly and strong build. He wore a silly half smile as he spoke, making his face pleasant and likable.
“So that’s Captain Shanley,” commented Grant. “He’s not what I imagined.”
Grant and I crouched and waited, watching and listening.
“That is my final offer,” said Shanley, his voice calm. He led Christoff to a small writing table.
“That can be arranged,” answered Christoff. “I have two thirds of the cost with me now. I will need to meet my investor at the harbor. I welcome you to join me.”
“What is your investor doing at the waterfront?”
“My bank is in Aruba, and I have made plans to invest in Curacao’s bank. He brings my notes. If you’ll join me in meeting him, I will gladly pay you in full.”
“Will he be carrying gold? I don’t trust bank notes from men I have just met.”
“Indeed. My man will have a trunk of money. You can trust me, Captain. Allow me to prove it.” Christoff took the bulging pouch off his belt and poured the contents onto the table. Gold and silver coins covered Shanley’s writing area and spilled onto the floor.
“I thought that L’Ollon said not to give him so much as a reale,” I whispered to Grant.
“Let’s have faith in Christoff.”
Shanley continued, “Let me prepare the papers for the sloop, and I’ll join you in a walk to the harbor.”
“There is just one other necessity,” said Christoff. “Forgive me if you deem it an unreasonable request.”
“Please, go on.”
“I need a crew.”
“Have you prepared articles a man would find appealing?”
“Indeed, my shipboard articles guarantee a fair stipend.” Christoff reached into his shirt and withdrew a folded parchment.
Shanley read it through. “Enticing and fair. I released a band of men from my services not more than three days ago. They’re strong and eager for work. Allow me to give these articles to my guard. He can deliver them to the men at once.”
Shanley called for his guard. One of the pirates from the front door entered the foyer. “I have an errand for you. Take these articles to Waylin. You’ll find him at the pub. Tell him to round up his men and ready them for the sea. They are to report to my sloop in ten minutes if they wish to sail under a wealthy captain. They have permission to board and ready her sails. Tell them the sloop is fully stocked.”
“It looks like he just bought the sloop and a crew to sail her,” Grant whispered. “What’s going on?”
Shanley gathered some papers and took a few minutes to write. He poured hot wax onto the form and stamped it, creating an official seal. Christoff signed his name on the document.
The men shook hands and left. We listened to them walk away and heard the front door of the manor shut.
“Come,” said Grant, “we’ll get the sea chart and the book, then race back to the waterfront before the guards discover us.”
We dashed across the corridor and crouched in front of the largest door, assuming it was Shanley’s private study.
“Did you hear that? Someone’s coming!” Grant quickly worked his picks. This time, the lock challenged him. I heard a snap. “Damn! It broke.” He fumbled for another pick.
I heard the footsteps echoing down the hall, likely coming from around the corner. I guessed we had less than a minute before the patrolling guard turned the corner and caught us.
“Hurry, Grant!”
“I’m trying! There must be something pretty valuable behind this door to warrant a lock like this.”
Another snap.
The guard began to whistle. His awkward melody made him sound very close. Small beads of sweat formed on Grant’s brow.
At last I heard the click of the final tumbler and the lock popped open in his hand. We pushed open the door and fell into the room. Grant shut the door quickly and we sat motionless, listening to the guard pass by.
Like the foyer, the walls of this room were painted gold. Thick candles rested on every shelf, table, and pedestal. Vivid paintings of ships and sunsets excited my eyes, but it was a magnificent tapestry hanging on the wall behind Shanley’s desk that captivated me the most. I could not take my eyes off this work of art.
The tapestry depicted an enchanting woman, naked from the waist up, her skin as smooth and golden as the sunlight that fell on her shoulders. Her arms and abdomen were lean, defined, and strong. The face of this radiant creature allured me. Two glimmering, intelligent silver eyes looked at us. Threads of every color imaginable twisted and swirled together, creating a wet rainbow of hair. Her bright smile seemed slightly mischievous.
Blue water surrounded her. A delicate ocean mist swirled around her waist as she rested on a smooth gray stone. I reached out to caress the soft threads of the tapestry and follow the curves of her waistline down to where her female body began to change. Where two legs should have been was the lower half of what looked like a dolphin. The sunlight in the tapestry glowed on her aquatic body and made the glorious fanned fin glow a calming shade of lavender. The fin was wide, nearly the size of her entire lower half from end to end. It rippled and streamed like a lilac bed sheet, blowing in the wind as the sun forces its way through the fabric. Speechless, I forgot the reason we had come.
A silver plaque was mounted under the tapestry. I leaned closer to read the engraved words:
THE MERMAIDEN.
ANGEL OF THE OCEAN.
EVER-WATCHFUL KEEPER OF SECRETS.
“Look at the loot in this place!” said Grant in awe.
Endless treasure filled the room. Precious amulets and jeweled earrings sat atop tables and shelves. Stacks of silver coins were piled neatly near brass scales. On Captain Shanley’s desk waited mounds of valuable gemstones. Sparkling jewel-encrusted rings and diamond brooches were arranged in meticulous piles. Grant stuffed treasures into the pouch that hung from his belt.
