The Lost Prince

The Lost Prince by Matt Myklusch Read Free Book Online

Book: The Lost Prince by Matt Myklusch Read Free Book Online
Authors: Matt Myklusch
could simply trick a ship’s captain into giving up without a fight? Dean could see why Gentleman Jim was known to inspire strong loyalty from his crew. Under his command, they not only filled their pockets with gold but had a much better chance of living long enough to spend it. Dean was happy to have played his part in the production well, and lamented the fact that he was there only as part of a larger charade. He could have fit in nicely with the Pirate Youth had they met underdifferent circumstances. It would have been a good life, being part of this crew. But who was he kidding? One-Eyed Jack would never have allowed it. Dean was a spy. That was what One-Eyed Jack wanted for him, and if he was spying on Gentleman Jim, it meant his days were numbered anyway.
    Gentleman Jim approached the captain of the
Santa Clara.
Standing eye to eye, the two men did not seem all that different. Gentleman Jim took his hat off to the
Santa Clara
’s captain as Ronan relieved the man of his sword and pistol.
    “I officially accept your surrender, Captain …?” Gentleman Jim paused and motioned for his counterpart to offer his name.
    “Cordoba.”
    “Captain Cordoba. You chose wisely, sir. No cargo is worth dying for.”
    “Don’t patronize me, you pirate scum.” Cordoba struggled to get at Gentleman Jim, but Ronan and two other pirates held him fast. “Coward! What kind of a man hides behind children like this?”
    “What kind of a man
surrenders
to children? Really, Captain, I thought you Spaniards were made of sterner stuff.”
    Cordoba flew into a rage, rattling off an endless string of rapid-fire insults. At least Dean assumed they were insults. He couldn’t say for sure since he didn’t speak Spanish, but judging from the way Cordoba was frothing at the mouth, it was a safe bet.
    “Please, let’s not be uncouth, Captain Cordoba. We’re partners now, you and I. The least we can do is speak to each other in a civil tone.”
    “Partners? What the devil are you talking about?”
    Gentleman Jim smiled. “It’s simple. Your pride is going to help keep our secret. After all, you’re not going to tell anyone you were robbed by children, are you? I doubt that very highly. No, if I have the measure of you down squarely, you’ll swear it was a whole fleet of savage buccaneers, or perhaps even a real ghost ship that struck you. Men like you make it possible for my crew to run our scheme over and over again with impunity. I appreciate your help, sir. You have my thanks.”
    Dean watched Cordoba’s face twist into a mask of pure hatred, probably because he knew every word that had just been said was true. Gentleman Jim laughed. “I love the Spanish. Such a proud people.”
    Captain Cordoba spat on Gentleman Jim’s lapel, and Ronan punched him in the jaw with the speed and fury of a typhoon wind. Cordoba staggered back in shock.
    “It seems you need a lesson in manners,” Gentleman Jim said. He calmly took a handkerchief from Cordoba’s pocket, used it to wipe off his lapel, and tucked the soiled square of cloth back where he found it. “First mate, have you the sock?”
    Ronan snickered. “Aye, Captain.”
    Dean turned up his nose as Ronan pulled a putrid black sockfrom his back pocket. He could smell it from ten paces away. The sock smelled even worse than Scurvy Gill’s handkerchief, if such a thing were possible.
    “What is that?” Cordoba asked, gagging as the sock’s hateful aroma punched its way into his nostrils. The filthy length of cloth looked like it could stand up all on its own.
    “What does it look like?” Gentleman Jim replied. “It’s a sock taken off the dirtiest pirate I ever had the misfortune of sailing with. Now, if there are no further questions?” He gave a nod to Ronan, who stuffed the sock into Cordoba’s mouth and tied it in place with a bandanna. Cordoba’s eyes watered, and he let out muffled cries of anguish and outrage. Gentleman Jim rolled his eyes. “Captain, if you don’t

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