Pirate Wolf Trilogy (51 page)

In
Havana, they were met by an armada of warships which did not winter
over in the New World with the trading ships, but were there
strictly to act as escorts to the treasure ships on their voyages
back and forth across the Atlantic. In April and again in
September, the
Armada de la Guardia
would deliver a new fleet to Havana and collect the ships
that had spent the winter or summer filling their holds with
treasure then escort them back across the Atlantic to
Spain.

Whatever
stroke of luck or fate had put the
Santo Domingo
in Juliet’s path, she was not about to lose either
the ship or the immense treasure she carried. It was imperative,
therefore, to off-load the Spanish crew as soon as possible and
vacate these waters before any other curious ships happened by.
Once it became known, word of the galleon’s capture would spread
through the islands like a fever, increasing patrols and raising
the already staggering reward placed on the heads of any privateer
who bore the name Dante.

For over
twenty-five years the Pirate Wolf, Simon Dante, had been the plague
of Spanish shipping. He had fought alongside Sir Francis Drake and
been one of Elizabeth’s fearsome seahawks who had helped defend
England’s shores against invasion by the Spanish Armada. Winning
glory, accolades, titles and estates, Simon had taken away nothing
but letters of marque signed by the queen, official sanctions to
harass, capture, and plunder ships of a hostile nation, which, in
the West Indies, was mainly Spain.

His wife,
Isabeau Spence Dante was the offspring of a red-haired giant of a
pirate who had taught his daughter how to fire a cannon by the age
of twelve and how to navigate a ship around the Horn before her
twentieth birthday. Her maps and sea charts were prized by captains
of every nationality who sailed on the Ocean-Sea, and to every
cartographer in England, she was known as the Black Swan after the
elegantly painted imprint that identified her work.

The
Black Swan
had
also been the name of the ship Simon Dante had given to Isabeau as
a wedding gift. She had returned the favor by presenting him with a
son, Jonas, nine months later. Another son, Gabriel, had followed
within three years, and Juliet ten months after that. None of the
three had shown a desire to be anywhere else but on the deck of a
ship, and with parents like Simon and Isabeau Dante, it was no
surprise they would grow to be a trio of magnificent thorns in the
Spaniard’s side.

All three
had fought for and earned the right to sail at the helm of their
own ships. Armed with twelve heavy culverins that fired thirty-two
pound shots, and eight twenty-four pound demi-culverins, the
Iron Rose
had been presented to Juliet on
her twentieth birthday. The fact her captain was a woman held no
less terror for foreign crews who sighted her sails on the horizon.
Most ships ran up as many sheets as they could carry and fled
before the wind, for to see the
Iron Rose’s
pyramid of canvas turning into the chase, usually
meant her brother’s ships, the
Tribute
and the
Valor
were not
far off her beam. And woe betide the arrogant captain of any vessel
who thought only to shake off the three pups pursuing him; chances
were better than nine out of ten that the Pirate Wolf himself,
Simon Dante, would have already circled his
Avenger
around to lie in wait off their bows.

On this
occasion, Juliet had been alone, intending only to take the
Iron Rose
to sea to test the strength of
a new rudder design. She had been startled herself to emerge from a
tropical squall and stumble across the two battling ships. At first
she had thought the rumble of guns to be lingering thunder, but
when the rain had passed and the mist had thinned, the lookouts had
spied the
Santo Domingo
blasting the
Argus
into
kindling.

Now she had an
enormous treasure, three hundred prisoners, and an eight hundred
ton warship on her hands, none of which made her particularly happy
at the moment.

“
Loftus
agrees with my estimate,” she said, glancing at the
Iron Rose’s
helmsman, “that we are less
than half a day’s sail from Guanahana Island.”

“We have no
friends there,” Crisp said, frowning.

“No, but look
you, between there and here—” she stabbed a finger at a small dot
of black ink on the map she had spread on top of the binnacle— “is
an atoll. We could tow the galleon at least that far and set the
Spaniards ashore. Once we are rid of them, we can think about what
to do with the rest of the cargo, whether to risk making a run for
Pigeon Cay, or to off-load it somewhere and return for it later
with Jonas and Gabriel to guard our backs.”

Nathan could
see by the look on her face that the second option was not an
option at all, for she had as much of a rivalry with her brothers
as she did an abiding love and affection. Nonetheless, he sighed
and shook his head. “We’d be trying to find this atoll in full
dark. How the devil do ye expect to make a dead reckoning of a
sandy pimple the size of my toe nail at night?”

“I’ll find it.
Unless you fancy standing on guard for the next forty-eight hours
straight until we find a larger toe nail in daylight, we’ve little
other choice.”

“We could just
heave them over the side,” he grumbled. “It’s more than they would
have done for us.”

“We could, but
it would still leave us with one other small problem.”

“Only one?” He
snorted. “Ye have yer father’s gift for understatement, lass.”

“What do we do
about the English crew? We can’t set them adrift on the same island
as the Spaniards or they’ll end up either dead or chained to oars
in the belly of some galleyass. The closest port friendly to the
British is at least a week away, which puts it a week beyond
impossible. We’re overdue as it is.”

“The Frenchies
would take ‘em off our hands an’ trade us a few barrels o’ wine for
our trouble.”

“Yes, then they
would turn around and sell them to the Spanish in exchange for
trading privileges.”

“Might I make
so bold as to offer a suggestion, Captain?”

Juliet and
Crisp both looked around as Lieutenant Beck stepped up behind them.
They had been aware of him pacing the deck below for some time,
working up the nerve to approach.

“Is there
something you need, Lieutenant?” Juliet asked. “Something else we
can do for your men?”

“You have been
exceptionally generous already, Captain. In fact, I was rather
hoping there was something we could do for you.”

“I’m
listening.”

“Well.” He
clasped his hands behind his back and stood with his legs braced
slightly apart. “It would appear to me that you have taken on
somewhat more than you anticipated when you came to our rescue.
This galleon, for instance. At a bare minimum, I estimate it will
require a crew of seventy men to work the sails and keep her headed
in the direction you wish to go—more if you should happen to cross
the path of another enemy vessel. Your own ship carries a
compliment of how many? No. No, on second thought—” he held up a
cautionary hand. “Do not answer that; I should not want to be
accused at any time of trying to prise information. My only intent
is to establish that while your crew is more than adequate for
sailing the one ship, it would be hard pressed to manage two. You
mention the possibility of towing the galleon, and I’m sure this
would be feasible for a day or two, as long as the weather held
steady and seas remained amenable. Of course, you also have the
option of sinking the Spaniard, but she’s a grand ship, an even
grander prize and while I can only speculate as to its value to
your family’s enterprise as a whole, I expect you would be loathe
to do such a thing if at all avoidable.”

Crisp folded
his arms over his chest and scowled. “Is it that ye like the sound
of yer own voice, lad?”

“I beg your
pardon?”

“Is there a
point at the end of all this meandering?”

“A point? Why,
yes. Yes, of course. The point would be that I am offering the
services of myself and my men in whatever capacity you might
require. We are, each and every one, fully trained to the tasks of
setting sails, rigging lines, manning the guns, even pumping the
bilges if that is necessary to keep this monstrosity afloat. It is,
if I might say, one of many advantages our navy has over, say, the
French or the Spanish. A Spanish gunner is trained only to fire a
gun; he would not know how to set a sail if his life depended upon
it.”

“
Ye’re
offering to help us sail the
Santo Domingo
to a safe port?”

“I have under
my command fifty-two able bodied seamen who have no wish to be
stranded in the middle of the ocean with the bloody Spaniards,
sir.” He looked at Juliet. “With respect, Captain.”

She studied the
unfortunately scarred face and decided she liked Lieutenant
Jonathan Beck. He was earnest and outraged over the uncivilized
behavior of the Spanish, grateful for his life and the lives of his
men. But could she trust him? Having just boasted his knowledge of
every aspect of a sailing ship, would he not be able to chart their
course? Remember landmarks? Guess their position with reasonable
accuracy from the sun and stars? Pigeon Cay was unique for a number
of reasons, any one of which would identify it to someone familiar
with the area. Moreover, she knew for a fact there was a reward of
ten thousand gold doubloons on her father’s head. A spectacular
fortune for a man who made a shilling a month in the service of his
king.

“Captain,” he
said, reading the hesitation in her eyes. “I am not unaware of the
success your father has had in keeping his whereabouts in these
islands a well-guarded secret. You have my word as an officer in
His Majesty’s Royal Navy that neither myself nor any of my men will
jeopardize that secrecy in any way.”

Juliet gave
nothing away by her expression, but at length, she shared a long
and searching look with Nathan Crisp. He, in turn, shrugged.
“That’s why ye’re the Captain. You make the decisions, I only do as
I’m told.”

“I could only
wish,” she said dryly. “Very well, Lieutenant Beck, I accept your
offer and your word of honor. As for your men, I am not
unappreciative of the strain it might put on their loyalties once
they are back in London. In fact,” one auburn eyebrow made a casual
hook upward, “for each man who agrees to join my crew of his own
free will—however temporarily—and signs articles stating as much,
I’m prepared to offer them a full crew’s share when the prize is
tallied.”

Beck opened his
mouth to protest, then clamped it shut again. Signing articles on
board a privateer whilst still legally bound to the English navy,
was equivalent to desertion and the penalty for that was death. In
effect, it would turn them into pirates, and for an officer to
sanction such an agreement was tantamount to mutiny, treason,
freebooting, and whatever other charge the naval council would
throw at him if it ever came to light.

As a
deterrent, however, going on account would certainly guarantee the
silence of any man who signed. They had all heard the whispers
concerning the cargo the
Santo Domingo
carried in her holds, and for a sailor—half of whom had
been pressed into service—even a tenth of a crewman’s share would
represent more than they could earn in a dozen lifetimes. A full
share would likely beyond any of their wildest
dreamings.

“I would
naturally have to put it to the men,” he said, his eyes narrowing
with new respect for the captain’s cleverness. “But I can foresee
no immediate impediment.”

Juliet held out
her hand. “In that case, welcome to my crew, Mr. Beck.”

He was an inch
away from extending his hand to seal the relationship when he blew
out a puff of air and curled his fingers into a ball. “On second
thought, there, ah, might be one slight impediment.”

Juliet
retracted her hand and rested it on the hilt of her sword. “And
that would be... ?”

“That would be
Varian St. Clare, his grace the Duke of Harrow. While I am not
privileged to know his business in these waters, I do know he came
aboard carrying documents that bore the king’s seal. He is no
common sailor, nor is he under my command. The bond I extend for my
men would therefore have to exclude his grace and if his grace is
excluded then I cannot guarantee the willingness of my men to sign
your articles. In other words—”

“No need to hit
us on the head with a truncheon, lad,” Crisp said. “We see the way
the boat is driftin’.”

“Where is he
now?” Juliet asked wearily, beginning to regret ever seeing a flash
of lavender velvet.

Crisp
tilted his head. “We had him shifted over to the
Iron
Rose
, like ye
ordered.”

“I did? Oh,
yes, I guess I did. And these documents he brought aboard?” Juliet
inquired of the lieutenant. “You have no idea what they might be?
Or where they might be?”

Beck
glanced inadvertently over the rail as if he could see where
the
Argus
rested on
the bottom of the ocean. “I expect they are with the rest of the
captain’s papers, for I believe he entrusted them into Captain
Macleod’s care.”

Juliet
exchanged the smallest flicker of a glance with Crisp. “It would
seem, then, the solution is obvious. You and your men, Mr. Beck,
will remain on board the
Santo
Domingo
under Mr. Loftus’s command, and his grace the duke will
remain in ignorant bliss on board the
Iron Rose
. We need three days of fair wind and clear
sailing, sir, and for that I promise a share of the prize as well
as passage to the nearest British port after the
Santo Domingo
is in a safe
anchorage.”