Swept to Sea (3 page)

Eden hurried down another flight of rickety stairs into a section of the ship that was dark and eerily quiet compared to the level above. Good. Although it sent a shiver crawling down her spine, dark and quiet were exactly what she needed to avoid being seen or heard. Her reticule dropped out of her hands, sending her coins clattering to the floor. She quickly gathered its contents and took in her surroundings. A wooden hatch in the floor revealed a ladder that did not look particularly sturdy. She gingerly placed her weight on it, calculating where to step and how hard, terrified it would break and send her plummeting into the bowels of the ship. When she decided the rickety ladder was as safe as anything she would find here, she descended down to what must be the deepest level of the ship. The odor of fish and filth assaulted her nose, and she tried to breathe through only her mouth, but to no avail. There had been unpleasant odors everywhere on the ship, but here she literally could taste the foul stench of it. Black, sludgy bilge clawed up to her ankles, dirtying her clunky boots. Everywhere she looked, nothing but thick darkness met her eyes.

Should she soil her clothes and sit in the murky bilge? She could sit atop one of the many wooden crates lining one side of the huge room. But what if some brave person ventured all the way down here? Not that it was likely someone would go down to this horrible-smelling hold. What sane person without fear for their life would want to?

She decided against the risk of discovery and crept behind some of the crates, braving the slimy substance that covered most of the floor. The dark shadows seemed to swallow her completely, and the chill seeped far into her bones. What she would not give to have a lantern.

****

"Weigh anchor, gentlemen! Unfurl all topsails and topgallants!" Caspian shouted, striding across his forecastle deck. Yelling emanated from amidships. He cocked his head, listening to what was going on. It sounded like two men arguing. What was his aggravating crew up to now?

The afternoon sun bore down on him, causing a droplet of sweat to slide down his back underneath his shirt. He brushed from his face some strands of hair that had escaped the tie at the back of his head. A jarring shout drifted up to where Caspian stood, causing him to scan his ship. He spotted two of his sailors brawling on the deck. His other crew members circled them, shouting and placing bets. The money-hungry men seemed to love every chance they had to gamble.

"Smithy, Kelton, stop that violent nonsense immediately, or I will keelhaul the both of you and hang your carcasses from the yardarm!" Caspian charged down the steps and plucked Kelton from atop Smithy. "Now, men, who started this?" His crew grumbled at the sudden end to the fistfight and their potential loss from the wagers.

"He insulted the character of me wife, Cap'n! I had t’ defend ‘er honor! What else was I t’ do?" Smithy shouted, pointing at Kelton, who glowered at him from across the deck. Caspian easily believed Smithy’s testament. Kelton, his master rigger, had a record of such indiscretions. The young man never seemed to know when to hold his foul tongue.

"Mr. Thompson, take Mr. Kelton to the brig, if you please. The pup needs to learn some restraint. I will not tolerate brawls on my ship," Caspian commanded, shaking his head.

"Aye, Captain." Gage grabbed the man by the arms and began to haul him off.

Kelton scowled and struggled against Gage. "But-" Luckily, Gage had the advantage of greater strength and jerked the man’s arms behind him.

"Two days without food or water should teach Mr. Kelton not to insult Mr. Smithy's wife again—“ Caspian’s order was interrupted by Kelton grumbling under his breath "—unless, good sir, you wish to protest further. Yes, I do believe the sharks would enjoy a fresh meal."

Kelton shook his head, jaw and fists clenched in defiance. But he said nothing. He knew who his captain was.

Caspian took a deep breath of the cool, moist sea air and watched his first mate drag the young man away. That insolent whelp would cause a lot of trouble on his ship if Caspian did not prevent it. Kelton had already caused more trouble than he was worth, but Caspian needed him for this voyage. It was too late to hire another man now. However, Caspian planned to dismiss him of his duties once they reached Port Royal and hopefully not have to deal with the constant headache the young man gave him. He did not need to be given any more trouble. No, he would not let anything get in the way of success on this voyage. He would persevere for Isabelle’s memory.

****

Gage Thompson clasped a lantern in one hand as he dragged the struggling Kelton down the ladder to the hold. He shook the young man by the collar of his grimy, once-ruffled-and-crisp white shirt. The man seemed to have always dressed like a dandy, but he had failed to maintain his appearance.

The warm, dank air of the hold assaulted him as he descended into the ship’s depths and had Gage not grown accustomed to the stench over his years at sea, he would have gagged.

"If you refuse to cooperate, I promise you, I will not hesitate to run you through with my sword," Gage threatened, fingering the hilt of the cutlass at his side.

He hesitated. For a moment, he wondered if the foolhardy lad would be crazy enough to fight him.

Unarmed, Kelton chose wisely and cooperated. Gage unlocked the bars of the cell and shoved the young man into it. He slammed the door shut behind him and quickly locked it. Kelton leaned back against the far wall lazily, avoiding any eye contact.

Typical, defiant Kelton.

Gage rolled his eyes and chose to ignore him as well.

A faint moan sounded from the opposite side of the ship.

Gage jerked his gaze in the direction of the noise, scanning the cluttered area with suspicious eyes.

“Hey, what was that?” Kelton asked. “Do you have someone else down here already? Captain Archer truly is a tyrant, isn’t he?” He continued spouting useless questions and comments.

Gage chose to ignore the man while he listened intently for a few more seconds, then, convinced he had not imagined hearing something, headed over to a pile of boxes to search for the intruder. Could it have been a rat?
No
, he shook his head,
no rats sound like that. No kind of rat at all.
Anxious to discover the culprit, he pushed one of the large crates aside and uncovered a small, pale hand lying motionless on the wooden floorboards.

He lifted another crate aside and swung the lantern high above the area. The bright light shone upon a boy. No, it was not a boy at all. It was a young woman dressed in baggy trousers, taking on the guise of a boy. But she was far too pretty to be anything close to the male gender. Could they have a stowaway on their hands? A female stowaway? Surely that was a rare discovery. Her long umber hair spiraled down her back and around her shoulders until finally resting on the slimy bilge below her. A bicorn hat perched on the top of her head. Why in the world was a beautiful young woman down here in the hold? How could she have gotten here? She stirred in her sleep, moaning, reaching forward with an open palm.

Gage shot back.

Without a single look behind him, he sped up the ladder and companionway to report his bizarre finding to the captain. He had no idea what the man would make of it, but he was anxious to find out.

Chapter Three

Caspian opened the heavy book that had taken residence on his desk the last few years yet had not been touched once. The first few pages were covered in ink, the names of deceased family members Caspian had never met. He flipped the page. There it was. The one name that meant everything was scrawled in Caspian’s own shaky handwriting.
Isabelle Wright Archer.
Death. August
fifth, in the year of our Lord, sixteen ninety-one.

Slamming the Bible shut, Caspian sank down onto the leather armchair positioned before the porthole and adjacent to his bed. He inhaled the strong scent of the leather, closed his eyes, and willed the gnawing headache away.

With an unplanned late start in the morning and Kelton’s insolence in the afternoon, it had been a most trying day. The glass cabinet in the left of the room, lined with port and rum, beckoned to him, tempting him with a reprieve from a stressful day. He had not drunk to drown his sorrows since before Reed was born. But on days like today, the thought held a lot of appeal.

Caspian stood and reached out, his hand pausing at the handle of the cabinet. He jerked his arm away and moved to the opposite side of the cabin.

Isabelle had always hated it when he drank. She had told him only weak men turned to the vile brews in times of trouble. And he supposed she had spoken the truth.

His cabin door suddenly burst open, and a mop of sandy blond curls bounced into the room.

"Father, Father, guess what I found!" Reed exclaimed—no, screamed—, skipping over to him, a charming grin on his little face.

Caspian let out a heavy breath. He was not in any mood for his son's incessant cheerfulness. How could the boy be so happy when he had tragically lost his own mother?

Yes, that had happened nearly five years ago. The child had been only a few months old at the time, but it still must be hard for the boy to not know his own mother. Egad, Caspian had certainly missed the dear woman enough for the both of them.

What must Isabelle think of him now, dragging their only child across the Caribbean onboard a pirate ship! Caspian laughed ruefully. What a wonderful father he had turned out to be. Hopefully once they arrived in Port Royal, he would make Isabelle proud.

"What did you find, child?" Caspian leaned forward, his elbows planted on his knees.

Grinning at Caspian, the boy held up a long silver chain that boasted a round, blue sapphire.

"And where might you have found that, Reed? Some poor woman is no doubt missing it back in London."

"I found it on the companionway. It was just lying there on the floor," Reed answered simply, that bright smile still plastered on his little face.

"Well, that is peculiar. We haven't had a… a woman on board since…" Caspian swallowed back a rush of emotion that had snaked its way into his throat,"…since your mother. I wonder where it could have come from."

"May I please keep it, Father? Please?" Reed pleaded, staring in awe at the sparkling blue gem. The lad was mesmerized.

Caspian huffed in resignation. It was probably just a bauble that had been separated from the rest of the treasure from one of the
Dawn’s Mist
’s conquests. No one would miss it. "Yes, I suppose, boy."

"Oh, thank you, Father. Thank you so much!" Reed grinned from ear to ear, looking every bit like his late mother whenever she had heard the slightest bit of good news. Poor, foolish, optimistic woman.

Reed was bouncing up and down. "And, Father?"

His son's voice was so timid, so thin, and so weak. He did not have the voice of a strong privateer. What could he ever do to make the boy stronger, more of a man? More like him, and less like his mother. It was bad enough he reminded Caspian of the woman every minute of every day…

"Yes?" groaned Caspian. He needed rest; needed to stop thinking about his dear Isabelle. Sleep would work to clear his mind so effectively…

"Will you play with me, Father? We just got that spinning top in London last week.” The dear boy’s bottom lip protruded out in a pout.

"I am sorry, Reed, but it has been a most trying day. Maybe I will play with you some other time." Caspian could not help but notice the moistness of tears glistening in the child's bright blue eyes.

What is wrong with me?

He always managed to upset the boy some way or another. That probably made him a worse father than his own. Many times, the man had been too busy to do anything with young Caspian and had shooed him away. Caspian knew he needed to do something about how he treated his boy.

A knock sounded on the cabin door.

"Who is it?" he snapped, not eager for another intrusion. With a grunt, he rose and started toward the door to open it — and send away the interloper.

"'Tis me, Captain. It is of most importance that you come out here immediately."

Caspian opened the thick oak door to see Gage panting as if he had just rowed the
Dawn’s Mist
across the Atlantic on his own.

Caspian stepped out of his cabin, motioning for Reed to stay behind and inside. "By fire and flame, man; what is the matter with you? You look as though you’ve just seen a ghost. What is going on?" His friend's tanned face had altered to an unbecoming shade of whitish gray.

"I-I'm afraid we have a stowaway on board, Captain. You must come and see for yourself," he half-chuckled, his face slowly regaining its normal ruddy coloring as his familiar smile once again formed on his mouth. The man always seemed to have something to be joyful over.

Caspian stepped back into his cabin to grab his pistol and then followed his first mate down to the dark hold. He was ready to dispose of the offender and return to his cabin for a good night's rest. Heaven knows, he needed it.

Gage nodded toward a stack of crates in the starboard corner of the ship's hold. Upon examining it further, Caspian identified umber curls spilling out from a bicorn hat and over feminine curves. Men's trousers and a baggy white shirt were unsuccessful in hiding a tiny, womanly figure.

A woman. He had a woman stowaway on his hands? If so, this was quite an amusing circumstance.

Caspian leaned forward to study her, wondering if she was asleep or… dead.

A wooden plank beneath his feet creaked rather loudly.

“What is it,
Captain
? What are you two so entranced with?” came Kelton’s even louder sneer from the other side of the cabin.

Caspian shook his head and moved closer to their strange discovery as Gage shushed the insolent Kelton.

The woman groaned, a long, low sound, and her eyes snapped open before she scrambled to sit up. Her coffee-colored eyes soon expanded with fear and displeasure. A tiny, freckled nose scrunched up in a most adorable pout along with pink lips.