The Devil's Tide (11 page)

Copernicus Ryan and Fat Farley were building a firepit with poles to support a skewer. A fat hog was tied up near them, rooting gleefully in the sand, oblivious to its impending doom. The hog was one of three which, according to Farley, they were saving for special occasions. Kate felt sorry for the beast, but her growling stomach was at odds with the sentiment.

Francois Laurent, Gabriel Elegy, and Jeremy Clemens went exploring, disappearing into the jungle. Laurent and Clemens took long rifles while Harrow and Elegy carried shovels, in case they stumbled upon one of the thirteen chests.

A hundred or so paces from Kate, Hornigold was sitting by himself in the sand, staring at
Ranger
. One arm rested atop a raised knee, while his other hand was twirling his mustache. His expression betrayed no emotion, good or bad.

Laurent, Elegy, and Clemens returned shortly after the sun had retreated beyond the horizon, and stars lightly speckled the sky. Laurent reported to Hornigold, but Kate couldn't hear them over the waves. Hornigold merely nodded, not taking his eyes off
Ranger
. Laurent lingered for a moment, as if he wanted to say something more, and then took his leave.

The hog squealed as Farley wrestled it into submission, securing his arm around its neck. Ryan slit the animal's throat, spilling its blood in the sand. The hog instantly collapsed beneath Farley's massive girth. They stuck a skewer through it, from mouth to rear, and hefted it over the firepit. Ryan's knees nearly buckled, his face turned bright red, and Bastion rushed over to help him lift. Farley prepared the fire. The flames kindled swiftly, bathing the beach in orange ambience. Soon the intoxicating aroma of roast hog filled Kate's nostrils, and her mouth watered as she watched the juices pop and sizzle, streaming down the sides of darkening meat.

Francois Laurent took a seat near the fire and started playing a French tune on a polished violin. More pirates drew near the fire. Harrow handed out a few bottles of rum, and it was not long before they were all singing drunkenly, making up whatever lyrics they thought went along with that tune.

Farley cut the first piece of meat, tasted it, nodded, and then stepped back as the pirates descended on the hog like vultures. Kate waited patiently, despite her rumbling stomach, and when they were all seated and happily gorging themselves, she leapt off her perch and approached the firepit. Farley offered her his cutlass, which she took with a grateful incline of her head. She cut off a huge chunk of meat from the hog's hindquarters, the blade slicing through the meat as if it were butter. She handed the cutlass back to Farley and plopped herself in the sand beside Bastion and Keith, who were seated near the water. She spared them with a brief smile before quickly sinking her teeth into the meat. The skin was crunchy and the meat tender, savory juices dribbling down her chin. She ate until she thought she might burst, and then she kept eating.

Bastion filled half a coconut to the brim with rum and handed it to her. Kate threw back her head, draining the coconut in a few gulps, and then fell into the sand. Her head settled into the tangles of her hair, thick curls grazing her cheeks. Her lips were wet with meat juices and rum and a hint of coconut. She had never felt so thoroughly satiated in all her life.

A large wave crashed over the beach, rolling so close that Bastion and Keith sprang to their feet in alarm. Kate shuddered when the water touched her heels, but she did not move. The two men looked at her, then each other, and then laughed and sat back down.

Countless stars seemed to swirl above her, with the waning moon holding steady. She raised her index finger and trailed patterns between the stars, fashioning a constellation that resembled a ship.

"What did you mean earlier?" she asked Bastion. "When you said you didn't know what a pirate looks like? And please don't run off before you tell me."

It was a long time before Bastion answered. "I see too many pirates," he said finally. "They look same as everybody else. The governor say pirates all bad men, but I see good men that are pirates, and I see bad men that are not pirates. Captain Benjamin, him was a pirate. Then the governor give him piece of paper saying him a good man. A piece of paper is the only difference? Now him a pirate again. Him a bad man now? Captain Benjamin rescue Dumaka from slaver ship. Them was bad men. Them do bad things to other men, things I wish to never see.

"Captain Benjamin not a bad man, him just want better things. Him not like Edward Teach. Teach do terrible things him have no reason to do. Captain Benjamin not like that. But the governor say them both pirates, them both bad men."

He looked down at her, his eyes wide and bright, despite the darkness. "Now I see a woman who want to be a pirate."

Normally such a slight would have put a fury in her, but she was feeling too good to muster anger over anything. "I never said that," she replied.

"But you are," Bastion said with a smile.

"You're mistaken," she said.

Bastion tilted his head in concession. "Like I say . . . I don't know what a pirate look like."

A roar of laughter went up behind them. The pirates were singing bombastically around the fire.

Keith tapped Bastion on the shoulder, and the two of them left to join their mates. Kate sat up, rubbing her suddenly heavy eyes. Rum always made her groggy. She shambled back up the beach, moving past Hornigold's tent, which was much larger than the others. It looked quite inviting, and he undoubtedly had many furs to curl up in.

She found an empty hammock on the border of the jungle and climbed in. It was closer to the jungle than she would have liked, but the alternatives were sleeping in the sand or sleeping with Hornigold. She fell into the hammock and closed her eyes as it swayed right and left, gently rocking her towards sleep.

Something gripped her arm. She woke with a gasp. Hornigold was staring down at her, eyes gleaming furiously in the night. He yanked her out of the hammock. She landed awkwardly on her feet, twisting an ankle.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're—" she started.

"I'm going into that jungle to find one of the chests," he said, slurring every word. "You're coming with me."

She bent down to massage her ankle. "You're drunk."

"Everyone's drunk."

"I'm not going in there in the dark."

He seized her wrist and lifted her up forcefully. "You'll go where I say you'll go."

She tore free of his grip. "I am not yours to command."

"Listen to me," he hissed, breath hot and stinking of rum. "Harrow found no trace of anything in that jungle."

"He was in there all of two hours," Kate scoffed. "Hardly time enough for a thorough search."

"I need to know something's in there," Hornigold insisted. "You've dragged me halfway across the Caribbean. I would have ratification."

"I
dragged
you?" she laughed. "I thought you controlled your own actions?"

His hand ascended swiftly, thumb and forefinger worrying away at his mustache. "A poor choice of words, influenced by heavy spirits."

Her husband once told her, "Spirits give voice to a man's soul." She considered reciting the sentiment to Hornigold but thought better of it. "Can't this wait till morning?"

"It cannot," he said, pacing in the sand. "I will find no rest until I have confirmation of at least one chest."

"This is absurd."

"Do not leave," Hornigold instructed, pointing at her face. "I will fashion a torch."

She spread her arms and said, "Where would I go, Benjamin?"

She waited, leaning against one of the trees her hammock was tied to. She closed her eyes and nearly fell asleep upright, but she was jarred into consciousness when Hornigold came running up with a burning torch. He handed her a shovel and gestured to the nearest opening in the trees. "Let us waste no time."

She stared at him. "You know, most men simply pass out when drunk."

"Not I," he declared.

Kate sighed and followed after him. Hornigold drew his cutlass in one hand, held the torch aloft in the other, and plunged into the jungle. She hurried after him, moving on uncertain legs. She was instantly greeted by massive leaves slapping at her face. She shoved through them, focusing on the torchlight. The leaves scratched her arms and legs. She blinked, holding her hands in front of her face for fear of cutting an eye.

Hornigold was hacking through the leaves with his cutlass, but it wasn't doing much good. "Do you have any particular direction in mind?" Kate called ahead.

"If you care to offer a destination," he replied over his shoulder, "I'd happily alter course."

"I was in Griffith's cabin when his crew buried the valuables," she muttered. "I promised you the island location and here you are. I never said I knew where each chest was."

Hornigold stopped and turned, slapping a leaf out of his face. He glared at her, knuckles white around the hilt of his cutlass. "I swear to God, Kate, if this is some sort of ruse, I will leave you on this island."

Kate felt increasing pressure in her left temple, and she knew it would manifest into a headache soon. "Rum has dulled your senses, Benjamin. What purpose would a ruse serve me? Think hard. Take a moment, if you must."

His eyes darted back and forth as if he was working through many nefarious scenarios. "I see your point," he said at last.

"That's settled then," she said. "I grow weary with your doubts. It isn't my fault you leapt at opportunity without deliberation, and yet accuse me of subterfuge with equal haste."

"You've made your point," he snapped, turning and continuing on his path.

She smiled, pleased with herself, and followed after. They pushed through the jungle for what felt like hours, and Kate's arms were soon traced with dozens of thin welts from the rough branches scraping past. She craned her neck and saw no stars, only wet branches and leaves glinting in the torchlight.

Finally, when Kate's patience had all but fled, they came to an opening. The trees and brush dispersed into sandy clearing, which ended abruptly in a wall of rock. Kate's eyes scaled the wall, which sloped steeply into the peak that towered above the island. The stars and moon shone clearly here, unbroken by tree cover.

Hornigold was staring at the peak, mouth hanging open. "Tell me Griffith didn't place any chests up there."

"I doubt it," Kate replied. "He wasn't gone nearly long enough. The chests would have been buried in haste."

"This is all speculation!" Hornigold exploded, hurling his torch to the ground. He advanced on her, lifting his cutlass high in the air, and for an instant she feared he would bring it down on her, but he stuck the blade in the sand instead. He aimed an accusatory finger, his mustache twitching. "You know nothing of value!"

Kate shook her head, exhausted physically and mentally.
This man is a joke. I should have waited for someone whose will isn't so easily broken.
Hornigold might have been a formidable pirate once, but Woodes Rogers had stripped him of what little resolve Edward Teach hadn't. Ambition had been enough to carry him this far, but it wasn't enough to sustain him.

"You are an impenetrable fog in the mind," he went on.

"Why, thank you," she quipped with a smile.

"You corrupt men with easy words."

"I am not a witch," she chuckled. "I have no magical powers over men."

"Are you certain? You turned my crew against me!"

"Last I looked, you're still captain. I merely reminded them who they are, as you would have done were you not so ashamed with yourself."

"I feel no shame!" he spat.

"You reek of it," she sneered. "The stench is enough to gag upon."

He gaped at her. "You're a ghastly woman. For the life of me I can't figure why Jonathan Griffith died for you."

She smiled obliviously. "I wasn't always so ghastly."

He shook his head. "One day something very bad is going to happen to you, Katherine Lindsay."

Her smile faltered a notch, but she held what remained. "One day something very bad is going to happen to every one of us, Benjamin Hornigold. Only fools think they can escape their end."

"Yes, well, my end approaches sooner than I had anticipated, thanks to you." He threw his hands to the sky. "You've killed another man's ambition."

"We've been here less than a day," Kate said with a woeful sigh. "Already you despair. If you regret your decision, that is your concern, not mine. You can't change what you've done, so you might as well make the most of it."

Hornigold waved a dismissive hand and faced the clearing, hands on his hips. His head fell. Kate stared at the back of his skull, hoping she might penetrate that raven black hair and see his thoughts unfold before her. His shoulders tensed suddenly, head lifting slightly. "A solution has sprung to mind," he said.

"Yes?" she replied hopefully.

He held out a hand. "Hand me the shovel, would you?"

She gave him the shovel. He gripped it with both hands and took a step further into the clearing . . . and then pirouetted on his heels, swinging the shovel in a great arc. She was too slow to register what was happening before the flat end glanced off of her forehead with a sickening metallic
thunk
, snapping her head back. Her knees buckled, and the world tilted. She collapsed limply into the sand, cheek splitting on a sharp, fist-sized rock. She cried out, clutching her face.

Hornigold tossed the shovel aside and stepped over her, placing one leg on either side. His silhouette blotted out the stars. He straddled her and clutched her wrists, his eyes gleaming. "I will not leave here empty-handed," he snarled. "If I cannot have Griffith's treasure, I will find solace betwixt your legs." He bent over her, licking her face, and when he lifted up, his mouth was wet with her blood. He released her left hand so he could fumble with the laces of his breeches.

She groggily struggled to recover her scattered senses as pain seared through her skull.
He only has one hand to work with, and his breeches are tightly laced. Think. Ignore the pain. Look around. Think.

He stopped with his laces long enough to tear open her shirt, and she felt the warm Caribbean night air upon her right breast. Hornigold paused as he stared at her hungrily. He descended to lick her nipple.