side, seeming as weary and shocked
from the ordeal as she was. When the sun rose, a giant fiery ball
emerging from the watery horizon, Roselyn acknowledged to herself
that it was the most beautiful sunrise she’d ever seen.
She was alive.
Granted, she was adrift in a tiny boat
in the great Atlantic Ocean with a nameless stranger who saved her
life, but still, she was alive.
That thought brought a faint smile to
her lips as she finally fell into exhausted sleep.
Chapter Two
July 26, 1718
The man stretched out on the quarter
deck naked from the waist up, his fingers laced together behind his
head. His raven black hair curled over his forehead and fluttered
in the breeze while he lay there, eyes closed, taking in the sun.
The crew milled about the deck. They’d completed all of the work
which needed to be done to bring the ship to rights after the
horrendous storm that blew the previous night. It was tradition on
the ship to allow for a day of rest and celebration after surviving
a storm of such magnitude.
“ Cap’n.”
The relaxed man kept his eyes closed
and willed the voice to go away. It wasn’t often that he allowed
himself the opportunity to do absolutely nothing. A ship this size,
with a crew of one hundred and fifty men, kept a sea captain
busy.
“ Cap’n,” the voice more
insistent this time.
He stretched his long legs, flexed his
naked toes and re-crossed his ankles. “Yes, Mr. Blake?” He did not
sit up. He didn’t even sound especially interested.
“ There’s a boat to
starboard, Cap’n,” the quartermaster informed him.
His interest level climbed a bit.
“Whose flag are they flying?”
“ No flag.” The older man’s
voice slurred slightly from the rum he’d already consumed that
day.
The captain opened one eye and looked
at his quartermaster. “No flag? What kind of ship?”
“ Not a ship, it’s a boat.
A dinky little row boat.”
That was interesting enough
information for the captain to open both eyes and sit up. “Is
anyone in it?”
“ Can’t tell. Davy spied it
from the nest.”
“ You have the
glass?”
The captain stood, rising to his full
height of an inch or so over six feet. The quartermaster handed him
a long spy glass. The two men stood at the starboard rail and
looked out over the wide expanse of sea. After only a second or so
scanning the water, the captain located the row boat. It was a
small vessel, the size of a lifeboat, bobbing in the relatively
calm sea. He trained the glass on it, and though he couldn’t see
anyone, there was a flutter of what could have been
material.
“ All right, let’s go get
it.” The captain handed the glass back to Mr. Blake who ran down
the wooden steps shouting orders to trim the sails and come
about.
Curiosity had a firm grip on the
captain now. It wasn’t difficult; boredom was a side effect of life
at sea counteracted only by brief moments of thrilling battles and
hellacious storms. Granted, the life of a mariner was one of
complete freedom and adventure, but being the captain of this
particular ship, it was also a life of wealth and
advantage.
The great three-masted ship, Neptune’s
Revenge, cut through the waves then turned starboard toward the
tiny boat bobbing in the distance. Handsome Jack, the infamous
pirate captain, stretched his arms languidly over his head. He
rolled his head on his neck and arched his back to complete the
stretch.
The ship had been at sea for three
months on a return voyage bound for Nassau, the port in the New
Providence pirate paradise. The cruise had been unimaginably
successful. The original food stores had dwindled, the precious
vacated space taken up by a bounty of captured gold coins, jewels,
and other riches from the merchant and passenger ships the pirate
and crew boarded and conquered. Oddly enough, the booty that had
excited the pirate the most was a barrel of crisp green apples
taken off a Spanish galleon just days before.
He took a bite of
from the ordeal as she was. When the sun rose, a giant fiery ball
emerging from the watery horizon, Roselyn acknowledged to herself
that it was the most beautiful sunrise she’d ever seen.
She was alive.
Granted, she was adrift in a tiny boat
in the great Atlantic Ocean with a nameless stranger who saved her
life, but still, she was alive.
That thought brought a faint smile to
her lips as she finally fell into exhausted sleep.
Chapter Two
July 26, 1718
The man stretched out on the quarter
deck naked from the waist up, his fingers laced together behind his
head. His raven black hair curled over his forehead and fluttered
in the breeze while he lay there, eyes closed, taking in the sun.
The crew milled about the deck. They’d completed all of the work
which needed to be done to bring the ship to rights after the
horrendous storm that blew the previous night. It was tradition on
the ship to allow for a day of rest and celebration after surviving
a storm of such magnitude.
“ Cap’n.”
The relaxed man kept his eyes closed
and willed the voice to go away. It wasn’t often that he allowed
himself the opportunity to do absolutely nothing. A ship this size,
with a crew of one hundred and fifty men, kept a sea captain
busy.
“ Cap’n,” the voice more
insistent this time.
He stretched his long legs, flexed his
naked toes and re-crossed his ankles. “Yes, Mr. Blake?” He did not
sit up. He didn’t even sound especially interested.
“ There’s a boat to
starboard, Cap’n,” the quartermaster informed him.
His interest level climbed a bit.
“Whose flag are they flying?”
“ No flag.” The older man’s
voice slurred slightly from the rum he’d already consumed that
day.
The captain opened one eye and looked
at his quartermaster. “No flag? What kind of ship?”
“ Not a ship, it’s a boat.
A dinky little row boat.”
That was interesting enough
information for the captain to open both eyes and sit up. “Is
anyone in it?”
“ Can’t tell. Davy spied it
from the nest.”
“ You have the
glass?”
The captain stood, rising to his full
height of an inch or so over six feet. The quartermaster handed him
a long spy glass. The two men stood at the starboard rail and
looked out over the wide expanse of sea. After only a second or so
scanning the water, the captain located the row boat. It was a
small vessel, the size of a lifeboat, bobbing in the relatively
calm sea. He trained the glass on it, and though he couldn’t see
anyone, there was a flutter of what could have been
material.
“ All right, let’s go get
it.” The captain handed the glass back to Mr. Blake who ran down
the wooden steps shouting orders to trim the sails and come
about.
Curiosity had a firm grip on the
captain now. It wasn’t difficult; boredom was a side effect of life
at sea counteracted only by brief moments of thrilling battles and
hellacious storms. Granted, the life of a mariner was one of
complete freedom and adventure, but being the captain of this
particular ship, it was also a life of wealth and
advantage.
The great three-masted ship, Neptune’s
Revenge, cut through the waves then turned starboard toward the
tiny boat bobbing in the distance. Handsome Jack, the infamous
pirate captain, stretched his arms languidly over his head. He
rolled his head on his neck and arched his back to complete the
stretch.
The ship had been at sea for three
months on a return voyage bound for Nassau, the port in the New
Providence pirate paradise. The cruise had been unimaginably
successful. The original food stores had dwindled, the precious
vacated space taken up by a bounty of captured gold coins, jewels,
and other riches from the merchant and passenger ships the pirate
and crew boarded and conquered. Oddly enough, the booty that had
excited the pirate the most was a barrel of crisp green apples
taken off a Spanish galleon just days before.
He took a bite of
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