The Noble Pirates by Rima Jean Read Free Book Online Page A

to fight it anymore. Wherever I was and however I got there, I was in for a wild ride, and there clearly was no getting off.
    I took a deep breath and smiled at the blushing pirate captain, now my only friend and ally. I said, “Let’s do this, then.”
    We stepped out into the damp evening, nevertheless pleasant, with a light, cooling breeze. I lifted the hems of my skirts without thinking, not wanting to ruin the fine material with mud. I was exhausted, too exhausted to even mind the growling of my stomach, but ran on a steady trickle of adrenaline. As we walked, England briefed me on Charlie Vane, the unofficial “governor” of New Providence, the chosen leader of the pirate bastion. In addition to being a skillful navigator, naval tactician, and diehard Jacobite, he was a brutal man, reveling in the torture of his victims.
    England relayed the story of the dispute that took place among the pirates when word of the king’s pardon reached Nassau: There were the more moderate pirates, forced into piracy through circumstance, who were thrilled to be given a second chance and raised the Union Jack over Fort Nassau – a pathetic, crumbling thing; then there were the pirate rebels, including Vane and England, who rejected the pardon and, angry and armed, tore the Union Jack down and replaced it with the death’s head flag.
    England then told me how Vane and some other thirty-odd pirates had pretended to accept the pardon when a Royal Navy frigate, the HMS Phoenix, arrived at Nassau. Vane and his men surrendered long enough to receive their certificates of pardon, then, upon their release and before the Royal Navy’s very eyes, captured several merchant sloops, slowly amassing their pirate company from the crews, and eventually forced the Royal Navy out of Nassau, its tail between its legs. England had never surrendered, although he’d participated in the overt acts of piracy.
    With the pirates back in control of the Bahamas, Vane proceeded to terrorize the seas, wreaking havoc on commerce to the islands. He was especially cruel to those he deemed disloyal to the pirates: the merchant-smugglers who had “kissed arse” the moment they’d seen the British flag. England, who had been Vane’s quartermaster at the time, tried talking him out of his cruel treatment of their prey, but found himself overruled by the crew on most occasions.
    I wrapped my arms tightly around my waist, captivated by England’s story. “What kind of… treatment are we talking about here?” I asked, morbidly curious.
    “Nothing the likes of ye should ever know about, lass,” England replied, his jaw clenched. This was clearly a point of contention for him.
    “Tell me,” I insisted. “I may have a weak stomach, but I’m not weak. I’m sure I’ve heard worse.”
    He looked at me then, his upper lip curled over his teeth in a snarl. “Ye want to know? Ye want to hear about how the poor sons of bitches were tied to the bowsprit with burning matches in their eyelids? How if they didn’t reveal the location of hidden booty, they got their eyeballs burned out and then shot in the face?”
    I winced, tightening my arms around myself. “I’ve heard worse,” I said meekly. This Vane guy sounded like a load of fun. The life of the party. I had never been less enthused to meet anyone in my life. Then I looked sharply at England. “Why are you siding with him, a man like this? You’re not brutal.”
    He looked back at me, surprised and amused. “Am I not?”
    I was adamant. “No, you’re not. If a brutal man finds a strange, raving woman floating in the sea, he has his way with her, passes her on to the crew, and then dumps her off somewhere or kills her. He does not protect her at the risk of his own safety. Am I right?”
    England was silent for a moment as we walked, taking our time. He seemed to be enjoying my company, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying his. He was easy to talk to, and had a streak of goodness that