Jaded Tides (The Razor's Adventures Pirate Tales) (20 page)

I swept back the curtain from the door and watched in horror as Woodley backed Rasmus away from Francis with his sword and called for someone to come and take her as he’d ordered before. I’d never seen Rasmus so vulnerable. It was tearing my heart out, and I could feel tears beginning to well in my eyes. I swept them away and looked back at the men, now gathered behind me; their eyes frozen upon my back. All of the sudden, I was struck with the realization that it hadn’t crossed my mind that these men had no idea I wasn’t a man. I addressed that fact immediately.

“This may come as a shock to you, as well as a relief based on your ridiculous expressions, but I am not a man, and there’s no time to elaborate any further.” A sigh of relief filled the room as I pushed my cavalier down hard on my head, took a deep breath, and drew my sword.

I continued my watch at the front door and placed my hand on the doorknob. “At my signal gents, we go. Follow my lead. Don’t throw yourself on anyone’s blade, either. Fight as if that girl was your own kin. I’ll fight for Rasmus. God knows he’s fought enough for me. On three.” I drew in a deep breath and blew it back out as I watched Woodley’s blade come to rest just below Rasmus’s gullet. “One, two…”

The piercing sound of a high, loud whistle halted my count, and my eyes watched the first man go down. Then another and another before I could even get the damn door open. We spilled onto the front porch like mice from a sack of grain, scurrying in every direction. The roar of our brethren pouring out of the darkness from every direction stirred up a cloud of dust so fast I could hardly see the carnage unfolding before my watering eyes. The torches flew, burning into the air like earthbound comets, and those who held fast to them swung them as clubs at their attackers—our attackers.

“Rasmus!” I screamed a long breathless howl as I ran to his side. He ripped the sword from my fist and swung both blades at Woodley, disarming him immediately. Woodley’s hands flew into the air, and he spun on his heels, running and leaping onto the back of his horse.

I watched in awe as a large black stallion leapt seemingly out of nowhere into the fray, carrying Fin. He began galloping in a circle around the fight as if he were corralling Woodley’s crew, but they broke free of his efforts and raced to their horses.

“Run for your lives, men! We’ll live to fight another day!” Woodley shouted as his horse turned and reared up beneath him, and then gathered itself before he rode straight to us at a full gallop. Rasmus swept me out of the way with a big left arm and tossed me my sword. I leapt in front of him and threw myself into the fray, but most of Woodley’s men had already mounted their horses. They were swinging their swords and taking their shots in the dark while on horseback.   

“We shall meet again soon, Bergman. Very soon,” he said before turning again and racing off with what was left of his crew behind him, over the deafening cheers of our saviors. 

“Pompous bastard,” Rasmus mumbled. “Gather up gents and head for the
Jade.
Somehow I don’t feel welcome here anymore.” He blew his whistle again and shouted, “Fin, bring me that horse!”

Fin rode up to us and slid to a halt. “Ain’t she a beauty, Cap’n?”

“Ain’t her looks I care a shit about. She’s nimble and fast, and that’s what I need,” Rasmus answered, taking the reins. “Take a few of the crew to the stable and grab the rest of the horses. While you’re at it, tell Valentina the rats have scurried, and it’s safe to come out. I’ll send word to her and Phillippe as soon as I can, but meanwhile, she’ll have to start looking for a new house.”

I wasn’t feeling well. My hip was damp and sore, and when I sheathed my sword, I slid my right hand to where I ached and realized why. I’d already caused so much trouble and done more damage than a bull on the loose on a crowded street that I couldn’t even think about saying a word of it in complaint. I just stood there and waited for Fin to bring me a horse with the rest of my mates.

Once we were all mounted, some two to a horse, we rode towards town. Rasmus had given me a leg up while I bit down hard on my lip and winced in pain, but thankfully, he didn’t even notice. We’d recovered the torches, but since I could barely hold onto the reins, I waved off the man who’d offered me one and depended upon my horse to be an obedient follower as we made our way through the darkness.

Oh, how it burned like fire now. My leg was wet from my hip to my right knee. I shook my head and blinked to clear my sight, but with every gallop the mare took, I felt sicker and weaker than the stride before. Then, as the lights from Nassau came into view over the final ridge, they tilted and twisted before me. Then, they mingled and swelled as yellow bursts, until blinking and rubbing at my eyes didn’t do a damn bit of good. I’d been hit broadside through the hip. The bastards had shot me. There was a hole in my breeches that signified where the ball had entered, and as I groped around in the darkness, bouncing with the horse’s stride, my finger found the wound. Then, by the grace of God, I found another hole about four inches below it.

Holding my thumb in one hole and my middle finger in the other to try and contain the bleeding as I rode, turned my stomach. I wasn’t sure if the feeling of poking around inside of my own bloody flesh or my loss of blood had done it, but I hit the ground hard, face-first, and rolled until I landed in the brush on the side of the road. Now, blood began filling my nose and mouth, and I tipped over onto my side, moaning and spitting, when I heard the call to Rasmus to stop.

“What is it, men?” Rasmus shouted.

“Ivan’s been thrown,” I faintly heard Fin shouting back to him.

I was somewhere between a dream and death, and the hoofbeats growing closer sounded like chariots rolling in to carry me away through the night. “Jesus Christ!” I heard Rasmus cry out simultaneously as his boots hit the dirt road a few feet away. “Fin, help me,” he said, as they pulled me from the grass and lifted me onto his horse.

“Ye been shot, lass, but my guess is you already knew that,” he whispered to me.

“I’m so sorry.” I breathed the words through what I thought might be my last breath, when I felt his big arms around me as he, too, mounted the animal. Then, something wrapped around my waist and pulled me tight against him as I fell back into his chest. He was tying us together.

“Hold on, little Razor.  Don’t you dare die on me.”

TWENTY-THREE

YOU CAN’T TURN BACK

When I awoke, the sun was high in the sky overhead. I was in the sick berth, lying on the table, covered in a blanket. I stirred and moved my hand again to where I’d been shot and found it covered in bandages, which were wrapped tightly against my body. The sharp, burning pain from the night before was now a dull ache that only increased when I tried to move.

“Ivory?” I heard Razz’s voice. It was soft and low. I raised my head a bit from the pillow beneath it and smiled as he dashed to my side. “There’s my girl,” he whispered, taking my right hand away from my hip and holding it.

He’d obviously been in my desk chair all night. Due to the tilting and the rise and fall of the
Jade
, I knew we were at sea. For how long, I didn’t know. My face was swollen, and I could hardly breathe through my nose. My eyes were puffy and sore, and they watered a bit when I tried to hold them open for too long. I struggled against the discomfort to see my love and search for his heart. I laid my head back down and gazed up at his sleepy blue eyes as they smiled at me, and the corners of his lips turned up until I saw the edges of his teeth peek out. Immediately, I was relieved.

“How bad is it? I must be a sight,” I said with a rasp.

“I cleaned it and used one of your concoctions to soothe the pain and help the healing. You keep notes like a banker.” He smiled as he rinsed a rag in cool, clean water and wiped my face gently, removing any leftover dried blood. “I sewed the holes closed myself. I suppose falling off that horse and knocking yourself out wasn’t all bad. You’re a sight, alright. A sight to soothe my weathered eyes,” he said, stroking my shaggy bangs away from my forehead.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, as a tear ran from the corner of my eye when I turned my face toward his.

“I’ve heard a lot of things when men wake up from a wound like this, but I ain’t never heard an apology,” he said over a chuckle.

“You know what I’m saying, Razz.” I squeezed his hand and looked for the right words to say. He handed me a cup of water, and I drank it down. I winced at the taste of iron from the blood that still lingered in my saliva. Then, I closed my eyes and decided the right words were whatever came out of my mouth. No pretense or cocky shit. Only the truth was good enough for this man, and all he deserved was what came from my heart. “You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve any of this.”

“Don’t deserve what?  A strong, brave woman who’ll kill or die for me? Are ye saying I’m not worthy of such a lass?” He smiled again and squeezed my hand harder.

“You’re the best man I’ve ever known in my life, other than Uncle William, and you’ve tolerated more than he ever would. He’d have taken a belt to me more than once over the things I’ve done since, hell, since the day you laid eyes on me.” I turned my eyes away from him and felt the shame of how I’d undermined and betrayed his trust wash over me from my feet to my head. The tears came quickly. I breathed heavily in and out to push them down and away, but when I felt his hand cup my cheek and wipe my tears, it was as if the dam that held in my very soul cracked, and the river within began to seep out.

“Look at me, Ivory. Look at me,” he said, turning my face gently back to his. “I’ll not deny loving you has been a challenge. I’ll not deny there’ve been a few times I wanted to turn you over my knee or lock ye in a cabin until our business was done, but I believe you always mean well. Ye don’t draw your sword or your damn razor unless ye mean to use it. You don’t shoot off your mouth or throw up your fists unless ye plan to put all ye got behind them. I didn’t fall in love with ye because you’re perfect. Hell, nobody is. I fell in love with that fire in you. That fire that burns so hot sometimes I fear I’ll burn myself when I kiss you. When I take ye in my arms, and you press into me like you’re trying to climb inside of me, it knocks the wind out of me, lass. Don’t ye know that? With so much hunger in your belly, I knew you’d eat this whole world up and me with it.” He leaned over me and held my face gently by the chin. Our eyes were as one gaze and our breath as one soft breeze. “Listen to me; when ye love like I do, like
we
do, hard and deep and full of pain, we can’t let our stupid heads get in the way of that. My brains turn to mush around ye anyway. I’ll not deny you’ve angered me beyond any man I ever knew, but only because I love ye more than life.” He sighed hard over me and blinked, and a single tear fell and landed on my cheek.

“Oh, Razz, I promise I’ll stop this nonsense. We can’t let our pain run our lives forever. We have to use our heads and then our hearts. Well, I promise I will.” Again, he wiped away my tears and his along with them.

“I’ve had to use my head all my life. To watch the way your heart and spirit moves you like a gale-filled sail has brought me back to life. I’ll confess, you scare the living shit out of me sometimes, but you’ve made me feel life in places I haven’t in a very long time, and not just the obvious ones.”

“I wish you could hold me right now, but I fear that pain would be all too much for me. Nothing, however, can compare to the pain of disappointing you by behaving like a wild and unruly child.” His hand still rested on my cheek, and I turned my head and kissed it. “I suppose I’ll be down for a bit, but I heal quickly. I’m sure I’ll be seaworthy in no time.”

His eyes grew dark with quiet thoughts. I knew what they were, but I awaited him to put them into words. “I’ve no stomach or heart to see you in so much pain. You need to be taken care of properly and by those who know how. We’re heading back to Port Royal. That way, the girls can get you back to health under the care of Doctor McGraw, while I go after Woodley

Had I the strength, I’d have instinctively leapt from that table and insisted he not pursue Woodley without me. The wounds I bore, however, had a much different plan for me. I had no choice and was days from even standing on my own. I stood down and allowed him to decide my fate, if only until I was well. “I understand. I’ll not make a fuss or act the fool any longer. You know my instinct is to fight and argue with you and insist you’re wrong, but not anymore. I swear it.” I meant every word of it. Now, the burden of my promise was mine to bear and to live with.

As my head cleared, images of Woodley and his crew racing away on horseback the night before poured in. “Woodley? Did you get him? Did you find Francis?”

“Try not to think about that right now. You need to rest,” Rasmus said, looking away.

“You didn’t, did you?”

“I can see you’ll not rest until I tell you. They’d pulled anchor and sailed out of Nassau by the time we reached the ship. You were my priority, Ivory, not him or Francis. Anyway,” he said and then sighed. “We found her in the road. He’d gotten all he needed from the lass.”

“She’s dead, isn’t she?” I asked, turning away. He didn’t answer.

Our somber conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. Rasmus opened it and invited Fin inside, who came bearing my own remedy of potato soup and fruit juice.  He explained he’d come, as well, to have a word with Rasmus, alone. Rasmus instructed Fin to meet him in his cabin in an hour, so he could see I had eaten and was without fever.

“It’s good ta see ye awake, mate,” Fin remarked as he walked to the door and said goodbye. “Oh, by the way, that little fella ye picked up in Nassau?  Ye were right. He’s a natural born sailor.”

“I’ll return as soon as I’m able,” Rasmus said, again taking my hand and squeezing it before placing a long-awaited kiss on my sore mouth. “Jonathan will see to anything you need while I’m tending to my duties. I know the next couple of days will be boring, so he can even read to ye if you like.”

I couldn’t answer him. I was strangled silent with grief.

“I love ye, Ivory,” he said, as he pulled my hand to his lips. “Sometimes it’s all we can do just to save ourselves.”

Upon our arrival in Port Royal, I was able to stand with a crutch, handily made by my old friend, Mick. He’d proven not only to be a great artist, but just as good with his hands in making things. It was a bit uncomfortable, but at least I was able to walk only three days after having been shot.

Thoughts of Francis still lingered, but I had to let go. Rasmus eased my grief by spending as much time with me as he could spare, and by the grace of God I slept most of the time he wasn’t at my side. I struggled on my crutch, but I was healing well and demanded he allow me some fresh air. All eyes were upon me as I at last emerged into the sunlight so that I could see the land in the distance. Although they barely uttered a word, my crewmates nodded to me, and a few even tipped their hats and smiled. Once I figured out how to use the crutch, I managed to hobble to the bow to watch as we drew closer to Jamaica. The smell of the sea and moist breeze and spray were like a balm. The closer I came to the bowsprit, the more relaxed and soothed I became.

“Well, look at you,” I heard the familiar and sorely missed voice of James Robertson say as he stepped towards me at the forecastle gunnel.

“So you’re alive, and yet you haven’t once come to see me on my sickbed,” I said smartly, leaning my crutch against the rail and holding it tightly to steady myself.

“Of course I’m alive. I’m not the one who ran off and got herself shot,” he said over a laugh. “Do you know how fortunate you are, young lady?”

“Now you address me as young lady?” I scoffed.

“Well, I suppose since the whole ship knows you’re not only a lady but the Captain’s wife at that, calling you a lady shouldn’t come as a shock to you. May I ask what the devil you were thinking, exposing yourself as you have?”

“My objective was never to be a man. I no more wish to be a man than I would a horse or a dog.”

“I certainly hope you’re not comparing animals here.” He smiled.

“Of course not. What I’m saying is, I am a woman. Regardless of my sex, I have always been capable of things outside the reach of women because I had no choice. I wasn’t brought into this world to sit on velvet sofas and sip tea. Can you imagine?” I laughed.

“I must admit,” he said, joining me in laughter and pulling a crate next to me for my seat. “The idea of you draped in lavish fabrics and sipping tea—although a prospect I find curiously appealing in some strange way—is as foreign to my imagination as seeing myself as a farmer or a husband.”

I winced in pain as he carefully lowered me onto the crate. “Shall I take you back to your cabin?” he asked. His face turned from amusement to concern.

“I’m fine. As you can imagine, there is quite a bit of discomfort in being shot.” We laughed again. “Tell me what you’ve heard, James. What are the men saying?”

“To be quite honest, as I always am, I’m shocked they didn’t shoot you themselves.”

“Excuse me?” My eyes flew open at him, and I reached for the gunnel to stand.

“No, no, no… you stay put, now, and hear me out,” he said, pushing me gently back down by my shoulders. “I’m toying with you, my lady. Much to my surprise, we’ve a rather civilized lot and quite progressive, so it seems. Most of the men have found your endeavors as a man to be more than surprising, and I mean that in a good way.”

“Do you mean to say they accept the fact that I am not a man?”

“Accept might be too strong a word. They have, however, come to the consensus that even if you were not the wife of the Captain, they’d consider serving at your side if you were a man, and some have said, based on your performance, they could easily disregard the fact that you’re a woman. Of course, after having been regaled with stories of your strength and bravery, as well as the fact you took a bullet for their Captain…”

“But, I didn’t take a bullet for Razz.”

“My lady, but you did! Had you not stepped out in front of him to defend him in that fight at Valentina’s, it would have most certainly been him and not you who now bear those bloody holes.”

It never occurred to me that when I had leapt from behind him as he handed me my sword, I did, in fact, stand between him and that shot. “My intention was only to fight. I had no idea a shot had even been fired in our direction, until I was hit.”

“Details, my lady, details. Let me assure you, the fact their Captain is whole is more than enough reason to praise you.”

“Praise me? Stop toying with me, James.”

“You are a strand of hair away from what you long for, and yet you scoff at my answers, when you moments ago asked for them?” He leaned forward and looked down at me, and for once, I could see the truth in his eyes, free of his silly jokes.

“You’ve given me hope. Your words have lifted my spirits so that I think I could run up those ratlines again right now. The thought that these men could accept me as a woman, working and sailing at their side, makes my heart swell.”

“Well, let’s get you home for a bit, until you’re healed.  Then, when we return, we’ll concern ourselves with that.”

“When you return? So Rasmus fully intends to go after Woodley without me, then?”

“Even you have to admit it’s for the best. You wouldn’t want him worrying about you while he’s trying to capture a brig the likes of the
Tainted Rose
.”

“A brig? Woodley’s new ship you mean? So, we’re going after her?”

“The same. By the time you all reached the
Jade
the night you were shot, he’d pulled anchor and headed off south-east. We had sight of them for several hours once the sun came up. We lost her over the horizon. There’s one thing in our favor, though.”