"Sixteen men on a dead man's chest.
Yo ho ho..."
"And a bottle of rum." Captain Chris Larabee finished with a
flourish, holding said bottle out to Bloody Buck Wilmington as he
approached.
Bloody Buck. Named not for his prowess in battle, but for
the deadly swathe he cut through the hearts of their female captives. Damn
women were always falling into Buck's arms, going home with silly smiles on
their faces after they'd been ransomed by their families. But since Chris
and the rest of the crew went home with lots and lots of gold in their
pockets, they couldn't really complain. The only people who were unhappy
with the situation were the husbands and fathers of the women. Like Chris
gave a damn about that.
"Thanks mate. Swabbing the poopdeck is thirsty
work." Buck tossed his mop aside and reached out to take the proffered
bottle. He tilted his head back and let the cool rum run down his throat.
Licking a few stray drops off his mustache, Buck handed the bottle back to
his captain and picked up the mop again with a sigh.
"I thought it
was Ezra's turn to do that." Chris regarded his companion with a slight
frown.
Buck smiled sheepishly. "Made the mistake of betting against him
in the bilge rat races last night."
"Ah." Chris replied knowingly.
Slick Ezra's gambling skills were legendary. As were his cheating ones. They
had all lost to him at one time or another. Which was how the southern
pirate had wound up with the pretty red captain's jacket he was so fond of
wearing. Although it was as much as your life was worth to bring that up
around the captain. It was still something of a sore point with Chris. A
fact that added immensely to the pleasure old Slick Standish derived from
the wearing of that particular item of clothing.
"You seen Vin around
anywhere?" Chris asked, idly leaning against the rigging as he watched Buck
wield the mop with surprising effiency. The tall, handsome scalawag was
humming as he worked. Too bad he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. But it
was no worse than the first mate playing his harmonica. Attempting to play,
Chris amended with a rueful smile.
"Yep. He 's playing lookout. You know
how he likes to do that." Chris followed Buck's pointing finger to the
crow's nest, where he could just make out the figure of his first mate, Vin
Tanner, everpresent spyglass in hand. The lean, blue eyed pirate could often
be found up there. Reveling in the freedom offered by swift ocean breezes
and the endless expanse of horizon. Vin had an almost uncanny affinity for
the stars. He seldom needed to refer to maps or charts as they sailed the
seven seas. The townspeople swore he could read the waves below and the
heavens above the way other people read books. And Chris wasn't entirely
certain they were wrong.
Many was the night he and his first mate had sat
on the deck below, looking up at the stars as they sipped a glass of
whiskey. Occasionally they would speak of how they and the rest of the crew
had come to be here in this place. On this ship, The Magnificent. Sailing
the seas. Together. But mostly they just sat, enjoying the quiet
companionship and unspoken understanding they shared.
"Hope he finds
something soon. The crew's starting to get a bit restless." It had been
several weeks since their last prize had been taken. A Spanish galleon,
loaded down with treasure. And with important documents. Something which had
pleased Governor Travis to no end. Technically, Chris and his crew were
privateers rather than pirates. But that was just a matter of perspective.
It all depended on which side you were on when the battle lines were drawn.
Chris thought he and his men were on the right side. So pirate or privateer.
It made no difference to him. Or to the rest of his crew. Although,
personally, Chris thought they all preferred pirate. Privateer just didn't
have the same ring.
"Yeah. Damn kid's gonna drive us all up the rigging
if we don't see some action soon." Buck chuckled affectionately. He'd taken
the newest, and youngest, crewmember under his wing from the start. The two
of them had a special bond. Something neither man would admit to, even under
the worst torture. But they weren't fooling anyone. "And I heard Nathan
complaining the other day that he hasn't had to patch up anything worse than
a splinter in over a month." Buck shook his head, still chuckling slightly.
As if on cue, Nathan Jackson and JD Dunne appeared from behind a stack
of barrels. At the sight of Buck and the Captain, JD began running towards
them. He was plainly excited about something. "Buck! Captain! Wait til
you hear!"
"JD. Son, how many times do I gotta tell ya? Never run on
a wet deck cause you might slip and...fall." Buck concluded in exasperation
as he and Chris watched JD's feet slip out from under him. The young pirate
ended up sprawled at Buck's feet. Still scolding, the older man reached out
a hand and hauled a rather dazed looking JD to his feet.
"Here you
go, JD" Nathan walked up and held out a black tricorn hat with a jaunty red
feather to the young man before he began checking for injuries. As ship's
healer this was second nature to him. It was his job to see that the crew
stayed in one piece. Not an easy task with these particular men and their
penchant for trouble.
"Aw geez, kid. When are ya gonna get a real pirate
hat? That thing makes ya look like Peter Pan."
"The famous pirate,
Black Bat Masterson wore a hat just like this one." JD said hotly, his
bruises forgotten momentarily as he took up the gauntlet.
"And besides,
Captain Hook was a pirate and he wore a feather in his hat." JD added in a
'so there' kind of tone.
"He wore a plume, JD. Peter Pan wore a feather."
Buck replied smugly.
Chris ignored the familiar bickering and turned to
Nathan, who had apparently decided JD would live and was casting a worried
frown in Chris' direction.
"What is it, Nathan?" Chris asked,
straightening up from where he'd been leaning against the
rigging.
"Josiah said he's seen the crows again." Nathan spoke
tersely.
That meant trouble was coming. Chris frowned.
"Ahoy! Ship
coming in on the starboard side. It's the Royal James." Vin's words caused
them all to look in the direction of the crow's nest where the first mate
could be seen, climbing nimbly down the steep height.
"Buck. You go take
over the helm and send Josiah to me. Nathan, you go check the condition of
our cannons and some of the other equipment we might need. JD, you go tell
Ezra I need to see him and then go help Nathan." Chris was in his element.
Barking orders. Making plans. Getting ready for action. He ran a finger over
the edge of his cutlass, testing its sharpness, while he waited for his
orders to be carried out.
"Aye aye, Captain." The three men chorused,
before dispersing to carry out their various duties.
"Hey there,
sailor." Vin walked up and smiled briefly before a worried frown settled
over his features. The gold hoop in his ear glinted as it caught the
afternoon sun. "We got trouble coming. James is bad news. And he's out for
your blood."
"I know. You feeling up to a good fight?" Chris' own
smile was slightly feral. He didn't like James and his men. And people Chris
Larabee disliked had a way of winding up dead more often than not.
"A
fight? You fellows are too good to this sinner." One eyed Josiah walked up,
grim amusement playing across his craggy features. The large ex preacher did
enjoy a good brawl. Even if it did make him feel guilty afterwards. But the
crows added an element of surprise that had the big pirate on edge. They
always meant trouble. Josiah wasn't worried about himself. Death was an old
friend he'd courted many times over the years. But now he had friends that
he cared about. And he didn't want to see the crows come for
them.
"The crows tell you anything helpful, Josiah?" Chris wasn't
surprised when the other man merely sighed and shook his head, adjusting the
black patch that covered one eye, absently.
"Helpful? My dear
Captain Larabee, you ask too much." The light tone and langorous drawl of
Ezra Standish were belied by the bright sharpness of the green eyes. The
dapper pirate was attired in his usual costume of ruffled shirt, velvet coat
and immaculate trousers. His boots were shiny enough to see your refection
in. Or shiny enough to shave by, as Buck liked to say. Chris didn't know how
Ezra did it. The captain preferred to wear plain, unadorned black. For many
reasons.
"I'm glad to hear you say that, Ezra. Then you won't be
surprised when I ask you to talk your way onto James' ship."
Ezra
wrinkled his nose. "Surely you jest."
"You ever known him to do that?"
Vin asked laconically, blue eyes gleaming with supressed
amusement.
"I daresay you are right, Mr. Tanner. Our captain is noted for
many fine qualities, but a sense of humor is not amongst them." The southern
pirate sighed.
"If you two are finished?" Chris asked pointedly.
"You know Lucas, the nephew, right?" He watched as Ezra curled his lip in
disgust.
"To my everlasting regret. Although, if you like the crazy,
cretinous, stone killer type, I suppose he was not so bad."
"Good.
Then he should be able to vouch for you to his uncle." Chris tapped his
fingers impatiently against the hilt of his compass as he spoke.
"Goody." Ezra muttered under his breath. "Uh..perhaps you would care to
enlighten me as to your plan?" he added when Chris' eyes narrowed. Promises
of keelhauling and gangplanks lurked just underneath the icy
stare.
"You'll love it Ezra. It involves you adrift in a lifeboat.
Disguises. Double crosses. It'll be fun." Chris' smile did little to
alleviate Ezra's sudden feeling of impending
doom.
"Scurvy
scum!"
"Lily livered coward."
"Fire at will."
The ringing
of cutlasses, the roar of the cannons and the shouts of the two crews all
combined to make a cacophony of sound that was like music to Chris Larabee's
ears. His blood sang as he fought his way ever closer to Stuart James. James
and Chris had been at odds ever since the man had tried to take over the
town where Governor Travis' daughter in law made her home. And Chris had
stopped him from doing it. The blonde pirate captain had a grudging respect
for the pretty young widow. And if he'd spent one or two nights wondering
what Mary Travis would look like with her hair down...Well, that was
nobody's business but his own.
He had almost reached James when a sudden
scream made him turn. Mary Travis was struggling in the hold of two burly,
unkempt pirates. Part of James' crew. Damn the arrogant old son of a bitch.
Using innocent women to save his neck. Chris would make him pay for this.
Somehow. He turned back to the old pirate.
"You just signed your
death warrant, you know." Chris told him conversationally.
"No. You
sign hers if you don't call your men off now." Stuart James wore a smug
expression, tinged with a vicious satisfaction.
Chris hesitated. He
glanced back to where Mary was being held and saw Vin standing a few yards
away from her. His first mate nodded and Chris turned back around. There had
to be something they could do. Some way to salvage this situation. Maybe
if...
"Hey there, Errol
Flynn. Time to wake up." The voice of Vin Tanner pierced the fog of sleep
that had enveloped Chris Larabee.
"Huh?" He opened his eyes to find the
sharpshooter gazing down at him, amusement plain to see in his
expression.
"You're gonna have to rescue the fair Mrs. Travis another
time. Ezra just called in. He and Buck need some back up."
"I suppose
you're not just going to forget about this, are you?" Chris asked
grumpily.
"Nope. Not a chance, sailor." Vin dodged the punch Chris
aimed in his direction and grinned.
"Did you have a parrot? Maybe me
and the boys can chip in and get you one for Christmas. I bet it'd look real
purdy on your shoulder."
"Oh shut up."
"Aye aye, Captain."
With a resigned sigh, Chris Larabee followed the snickering sharpshooter
out the door. He was never going to hear the end of this.
The End
