The Pirate's Witch (5 page)

The man’s eyes darkened, and he said coldly, “You, above all the rest, should know how meaningless your gold and jewels are to me.
 
No, Clarette, it is you that I want.
 
If there is nothing else to be gained from my exile, it is the realization that your words were true.
 
All the gold and baubles I have plundered are meaningless when I have but that little spot of land to harbor them.”

Monique’s mind worked frantically as she tried to figure out his words.
 
Her teeth were chattering and she cried, “I’m not Clarette.
 
You’ve made a mistake.
 
You’ve taken the wrong boat.”
 
Though most of what he said was confusing, she now worried that the vicious man was laying wait for a sloop that carried the mysterious girl he mistakenly thought was Monique.
 
Would he kill her, now that he was aware of his error?

The eyes glaring back at her were filled with anger.
 
“I do not know your game, but I recognize you even in this new form, petite sorcière de la mer.
 
How true those words proved to be,” he sneered.
 
Deegan was more convinced than ever that a backup ship would soon be arriving, and he had no desire to fall into their trap and leave without the woman.
 
“Come,” he ordered, and he slapped her thigh again when she continued to kick out at him.

Deegan sighed with impatience, and reached his long arm out to thread his fingers through her hair, just as he had done when he had taken the feisty girl the first time.
 
The need to rip off her pants and plunge deep inside her was an ache that only the anxiety of her armed crew returning managed to curb.
 
He pulled the screaming woman to her feet while she clawed at his hand and beat his chest, and all the while he smiled cruelly and laughed at her.

When he managed to get her turned by lifting her to her toes by her golden tresses, his strong hand once more slammed down on the fleshy globes of her bottom and he was rewarded with a loud shriek.
 
Deegan opened the door and forced her on tiptoe out into the companionway and towards the upper deck hatch.
 
Most of the crew had their wailing captives on deck, and Deegan called down to the stragglers that most likely had been tempted to give in to their lust.
 
“Make haste before the ship with the cannons returns.”
 
He was pleased with the sound of immediate scuffling of bodies in motion from below.
 
“Let’s get our treasure aboard the schooner.
 
Quartermaster, watch over the women while the crew pillages our needs.”

Johnny nodded to the Captain while gripping Thelma’s throat.
 
One hand was white knuckled as it squeezed a large breast and guided her towards the back of the sailboat.
 
Thelma’s wet cheeks were rosy with the evidence of the force of the man’s blows and she sobbed quietly, but she made no effort to remove his hands from her.

Monique tried to drag her feet, a painful task the way the brutal man had her secured, and she used her legs to push out against the cushioned bench running the length of the stern.
 
The effort merely pressed her into her captor’s broad chest and he chuckled low.
 
“I see you wish to play the scene as we did the first time, Clarette.”
 
He threw her up onto his shoulder and jumped aboard the schooner.

The girls were huddled together by the side rail near the helm with Johnny looking over them while Deegan orchestrated the looting of their boat.
 
The Quartermaster’s eyes only left his watch over the women, to nervously scan the horizon for a sign of their approaching crew.

Marsha wiped her eyes and her sobbing voice hitched, “This is fucked up.
 
Who ever heard of pirates using a sailboat and no guns?
 
They have knives and cutlasses, for god’s sakes.”
 
Her watery eyes scanned the deck of the schooner.
 
“And this boat is ancient.
 
It’s not just a replica of an old boat…it
is
old.
 
There’s no modern navigation, hell, there isn’t even any sign of an engine.”

“They’re French,” Monique shivered.
 
“At least the man who took me was.
 
And some of his terms were extremely old fashioned.
 
He kept calling me Clarette.”

Johnny hissed, “Silence, wenches.”
 
Monique was staring at the frightening man and missed the glance Marsha cast her way.

The woman watched the pirates transfer an unusual assortment of items, mostly gathered from the galley.
 
They did not strip any of the expensive navigation equipment or shining brass fittings, and the woman wondered if they meant to try to tow the vessel behind their old sailboat to sell later.
 
Loud cheers erupted when the pirates discovered the remaining bottles from the case of rum.

Deegan returned to stand near the Quartermaster by the women.
 
He looked down and demanded, “Where is your crew?
 
Where are your men?”

The women looked at each other nervously, and Hannah, trembling, managed, “We are the crew.”

Deegan stared at her for a moment, and then he laughed.
 
“It makes no difference.
 
You will be gone before they return.
 
You should have been more careful than to pay a crew who would abandon you while you slept.”

The Captain turned to the pirates.
 
“That is everything?”
 
The men nodded in agreement, their eyes drifting to the frightened women, and several men rubbed the bulges in their breeches.
 
Deegan ordered, “Scuttle the boat.”

“No,” Hannah shrieked, and Monique, Beth and Suzy joined her in trying to climb back onto the sailboat.

Monique felt an arm wrap under her breasts and easily lift her off the railing of the old boat to deposit her onto the wooden planks of the schooner.
 
The other girls were likewise deposited back, and the pirate captain’s glare pinned them.

They watched as the pirates transferred two crates filled with leaves and dried branches onto their expensive yacht, and place one under the canopy of the helm and one below deck.
 
The dried vegetation was lit and quickly caught the canvas, and thick black smoke billowed from the hatch leading to the galley.

Marsha wiped at her tears and continued her whispered observations.
 
“They’re scuttling the boat with boxes of vegetation instead of some kind of explosive?”

“What the hell difference does it make, Marsha?
 
We’re being kidnapped and they’re sinking our boat,” Thelma cried.

Marsha ignored her and said, “Look what they’re wearing.
 
Seven guys… and not one of them is wearing jeans?
 
Look at those shirts with billowed sleeves… and the buttons look like they’re made from some kind of shell.”

Deegan had been listening and said, “They are made from turtle shells from Tortuga, and are quite durable.”

His white teeth flashed in a smile, splitting his dark beard and mustache.
 
With the crinkled lines around his eyes he was quite handsome, Monique thought, and then she gasped at how her mind could possibly have wandered in that direction.

Deegan was pleased that the young woman discussing the anomalies the centuries had wrought was aware of his adeptness at capturing vessels even in the waters… and times… he now found himself sailing.
 
The pirates had become used to changes with each trip, but their natural ferocity had always managed to surprise the unsuspecting travelers they had come across.
 
Of course, knowing that unlike their prey they could not be permanently sent to the depths of Davy Jones’ Locker, certainly added to their courage.

“Untether the lines, and push off.
 
I want to set some distance between our ship and any support that returns when they see the smoke.”
 
Deegan knew he and his crew could not be permanently dispatched, but he was not sure of the women’s situation and he was not willing to take the chance of losing Clarette once again.

The crew hastily set sail and left their stolen commodities on deck.
 
They did not bother to place anything below in the hold, because when the ship returned to the island there would be precious little time to unload their plunder.
 
On more than one occasion they had been forced to quickly toss their stolen goods over the side rail so they did not disappear with the vessel.

Several of the crew cornered the Quartermaster with whispers of ‘Clarette’, and were giving quick, nervous glances in Monique’s direction.
 
Johnny finally agreed to approach Deegan, as he was also anxious about the young woman.
 
“Captain, the crew… I mean, well, me and the crew… we was wondering about the girl.
 
Some of them… I mean, me too… think we should discuss removing her from the schooner.”
 
Deegan’s face remained impassive, and Johnny missed the tell-tail sign of his clenching jaw.
 
“Perhaps it would have been a good idea to just leave her behind to sink with the other vessel?”

Johnny shrunk back when he saw the quietly contained seething anger in his Captain’s eyes.
 
Deegan would not argue the girl’s identity, as he certainly recognized her as the sea witch who had cursed them.
 
“Why do you suppose she has returned, Johnny?
 
Perhaps it is to remove the curse and set us free.
 
At the very least, I intend to express my displeasure with her actions.
 
She will not get the light hand I offered to her last time, and she will be kneeling by my side within the month.”

Johnny remembered Deegan’s reaction the last time the girl had been taken from him.
 
After weeks of their futile search for Tortuga, they eventually ended up on their island of exile.
 
As soon as the routine of their existence took hold, the Captain had sunk into a foul despair, refusing to allow the crew to even mention the French coquette’s name in their curses as they carved out their new lives.

The Quartermaster returned to the crew and gave them the Captain’s decision on the matter.
 
He was surprised when most of them seemed pleased by his words.
 
The thought of the curse being lifted, or their sadistic Captain plying his sexual proclivities on the young woman, seemed to appease them.

“Take the women below deck and contain them while we distance ourselves from the vessel,” Deegan ordered.

Johnny and Felix pulled the women to their feet and corralled them to the hatch leading below deck.
 
There was a loud explosion, and Hannah turned to see part of the hull from the expensive yacht blown out as the flames reached either the fuel or the engine.
 
It was already sinking by the time she followed Marsha into the bowels of the ship.

Patti was at the front and whimpering as her bare feet slid on the algae covered floorboards.
 
The narrow companionway was dark, and the ship reeked of putrid decay that caused her to gag.
 
Johnny finally grabbed her wrist to encourage her progress past the cabins.
 
The path opened up to a larger room, lit by a single open porthole set high in the side of the hull inside an old cell.
 
The heavy metal bars were pitted and rusted, though still quite sturdy.
 
Their toes squished in the wet hay carpeting the floor of the cage, and several of them jumped as the door was slammed shut.

Felix nudged the other pirate, and pointed at Hannah.
 
“That one’s mine,” he said proudly.

Johnny leered at Thelma.
 
“I’ll be taking the redhead.
 
They always got spirit.”

After the two men left, Marsha walked up and reached through the bars, blindly running her hands over a heavy padlock that was at least a span wider than her two hands placed together.
 
She looked at their surroundings.
 
“This ship is a relic.
 
Fuck, the mast strap is huge and made out of iron.”
 
She pointed at the huge anchoring secured to the deck.
 
“I think we’re a little closer to the bow than mid-ship, and it looks like they dissected part of the original hold for those cabins we passed.
 
That explains the narrow companionway.
 
For them to take up valuable cargo space, my guess is they make several quick runs instead of longer trips to grab more loot.”
 
Marsha was in her element and feeling a slight chill as she recognized many of the things she had studied.
 
The cabins were a surprise though, as usually any area that could be used to hold stolen valuables and supplies was not compromised.