Page 32 of Scourge of the Shores

The Rocky Alliance

Robert had kissed Danna Chadwick like a dying man drawing his last breath.

Perhaps he was—soon he’d be gone, and she wouldn’t follow.

Ervin had looked at him like he was the storm meant to wreck Danna from the inside out.

And maybe he was that, too. The thought gnawed at him more than it should have.

He should have left well enough alone. But he hadn’t.

And now all he could do was make sure the Pirate Kings didn’t turn on the island—and didn’t kill the woman he never should have touched.

He didn’t tell Danna what Frank told him; he didn’t want her to worry.

Not with everything else. He’d protect her with everything he had, even if it meant leaving without her.

The Pirate Kings gathered around the fire pit. Robert had been dreading bringing up the topic yet again, but he had to since the ships had all been repaired, and the islanders were ready to sail.

He stood and commanded the attention of the nine Pirate Kings.

“Brothers.” His eyes fell on Rosa. “Matelot.” He cuffed his hand on his coat lapel, and the other he placed on his belt to show his golden-scrolled flintlock pistols.

“Are we all agreed that when we fight Cain and win, we’ll lay no blood on the islanders, and we’ll not return for the treasure of the old pirate kings in honor of their legacies. ”

A silence settled over the fire pit, the weight of his words sinking into the gathered kings.

Rosa’s laughter broke the stillness; his eyes shone with greed. “Taken by Miss Chadwick, are ye?”

He was, but he couldn’t let the pirate kings know it. Holcomb, Cooper, and Vance exchanged a glance.

“Absolutely not,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Had I not gained her trust, we’d still be here making tar and pitch, marooned on this island for double the time we’ve been here.” He did a grand sweep of his arm. “I saved us from this wretched place, Captain Rosa.”

Rosa scoffed and muttered, “Ye could’ve fooled me. Perhaps ye’re a sly and cunning king.”

Blackwood chuckled. “Fooled us all, sneaking off at night. Are ye sure ye’re fully with us, matey?”

Jaymes pulled two flintlocks from his belt—one for each hand—and ran a warning shot by Blackwood’s ear. “You’re finished, Captain Blackwood.” He tipped the second flintlock towards Rosa. “I said what I said; any other doubters of me word?”

Rosa adjusted his seat on the fallen log, spreading his legs and leaning elbows upon his thighs, but said nothing.

Jaymes returned both flintlocks to his belt.

“My father united the forty kings under ten. He respected our history, and he’d want the treasures to remain with the kings of old.

If you disagree with that, you disagree with my father, who you owe for your fame and status as one of the ten Pirate Kings of the North Sea.

” Robert lifted his chin. “I’ll carry out his legacy and remove anyone who stands against it.

Are there any dissenters? Let them speak but in respect of our fathers. ”

Hagen stood up, glanced around at the other pirate kings, before nodding to Robert. “Me fleets are with ye, Captain Jaymes.”

Holcomb raised his hand in agreement. “Aye, me too.”

Adams nodded. “I’m with Captain Jaymes on this issue. Kill their sea dragon, credit our names, and leave the old kings in peace. It’s what should be afforded a pirate king.”

Cooper and Vance nodded along with an “Aye, aye.”

Five pirate kings were under Robert’s leadership, making the majority, just as he expected.

However, Damien and Garrick had the third-largest fleets, and Rosa and Blackwood had the second-largest fleet, behind Robert’s largest. If it came to war over the issue of looting the island or leaving it, Robert’s victory was not guaranteed.

Did the dissenters see it too? His confidence would have to be their truth, even if it was a lie. His glare fell upon the four who offered no agreement. “Care to speak?”

The four of them shared glances until Damien stood and looked around. “Me fleets’ll not attack the islanders if ain’t nobody else does.”

Garrick crossed his arms and leaned back.

“The treasure on this island’s probably of untold wealth and riches.

” His fat tongue swam over his lip as he thought.

“Hard to pass up, matey.” His beady eyes scanned the circle of men.

He ran his thumb and forefinger down and around his goatee.

“But we owe our status to the father of the youngest of us, though we all have longer tenures at sea than the Jaymes family,” Garrick acknowledged in a passive disrespect to Jaymes’ age.

“I’ll say, Captain Jaymes did, after all, shorten our time here.

He ain’t led us astray . . . yet.” He leaned forward and pointed with a knotted finger.

“The day ye do, though, matey, I’ll take me fleets and return here before comin’ for ye. ”

Blackwood nodded his agreement. “Aye, I agree with Captain Garrick.”

Rosa took a deep breath and ran a thumb over each ring—one for every finger. “Weak,” he muttered. “I thought we was Pirate Kings.”

He spat at the fire and stood up to face Robert. “Shoot me, Jaymes, fer I stand in yer way.”

Robert snorted at the calling of his bluff.

“Daniel, don’t make me kill ye. Ye’re me matelot.

For with no other have I shared my deepest secrets and most treasured spoils of battle.

” He straightened his back, never losing hold of Rosa’s eyes.

“I’ll give ye once more to agree not to loot the island. ”

Rosa crossed his arms and chuckled.

“Shoot me.”

His voice was low, testing, and bathed in an air of victory.

If Robert didn’t follow through on his threat, he would look weak in front of the others who had given him their word.

If he killed Rosa, he could start a civil war within themselves.

He’d have to use one bullet to spare war—for now.

If Rosa sought revenge, it could fracture the fragile unity his father worked so hard to build.

The fire crackled louder. The wind shifted. A challenge glinted in Rosa’s eyes.

Robert sighed. “Fine.”

The gunshot rang out before anyone could react.

Rosa’s smug smirk fell, and his eyes grew wide. As Rosa stumbled back, Robert kept his flintlock steady. The weight of leadership pressed heavier than the pistol in his hand. He had drawn first blood among the new generation of kings—matelot or not.

“Ye shot me!” Rosa growled, holding his wounded arm. Red simmered on his cheeks, and his lips peeled back, revealing gnashing yellow teeth.

Robert saw his friend in a new light: beneath Rosa’s handsome exterior lurked foul breath and nasty teeth, a match with the reality of his character—a kingly facade that concealed filth within.

But Robert would be the better man. He lifted his chin. “For me longest friend, I gifted ye a warning,” he said as the gunsmoke drifted away in the breeze. “Next time, the bullet’ll be in yer heart. Don’t test me again.”

Hagen, Adams, and Holcomb puffed their bottom lips and nodded at the act of Robert’s leadership—ruthless but honorable.

Vance and Cooper dismissed Rosa with an annoyed pop of their eyebrows. Damien chewed his lip as he watched Rosa succumb to the pain of being shot. It was not a good look for the Pirate King.

Garrick chuckled, “Shoulda agreed with what I said, Captain Rosa.”

Rosa sat back down on the log with a palm full of clotting blood before pressing his hand on his wound once again.

“That is settled, then.” Robert returned his flintlock to his belt. “After Cain’s gutted, we leave the island to the descendants of our pirate royalty in peace.”

With those words, he doomed the truth about his feelings for Danna from being revealed anytime soon.

They’d kill him, especially after that display.

His whispered promise to Danna of returning looked bleak.

Another passing pirate or sailor or merchant could come from the seas and stay, winning her heart, leaving him to return to nothing.

And if his true motive for leaving the island intact was made known, his father’s legacy would die with him.

His thoughts hid behind an expressionless face.

“Let’s get some shut-eye,” Robert said, surveying the kings. “For tomorrow, we’ve got a sea dragon to gut.”

A unified “Aye, Captain!” rose in the air. The men stood up, and each left for their respective camps, except Robert and Rosa.

Rosa grumbled. “Ye shot me, matey.”

Robert settled on the log, locking eyes with him. “Gave me no choice, Daniel.”

“I’m yer matelot, yer brother, yer forever comrade. Why in the devil’s name would ye shoot me?”

“‘Cause ye told me to.” Robert chuckled as he lifted Rosa’s elbow to get a better look at the wound.

Rosa ground out, “Ain’t think ye’d actually do it.”

“Better wounded than dead, aye?” Robert ripped a handkerchief from his pocket and yanked it tight around Rosa’s arm.

Rosa grunted, and his foul breath made Robert curl his lip. Rosa never bothered pulling oil on his teeth, which would probably rot out before he had gray hair. Robert had told him as such, but Rosa never cared.

“Ye’re as stubborn as a shark in a blood tide, Robert.”

A sly smirk passed over Robert’s face. “Ye too, Rosa. Earned a bullet in the arm for it. Next time, yield.” He slapped a heavy hand on Rosa’s cheek and patted him twice on the neck—their brotherly bond.

He pulled his tin of whiskey from his pocket and handed it to Rosa. “Fer keepin’ it clean,” he said and stood up. Rosa nodded, and Robert hoped they were square before he walked off.

The tent flap closed behind him. He shrugged off his coat, reloaded both flintlocks, and set his belt beside the cot. He stripped off his shirt and took a washcloth from his basin, cleaning himself, pulling oil on his teeth and tongue, and spreading it on his lips to keep them from cracking.

He sank on his cot and drooped his head in his hands, remembering how his father had taught him to groom. He missed the man more than he dared admit.

He leaned back, pulled his coat over his belly, and relaxed into the hard cotton—wishing for his soft bed on the ship.

Then he stared up at the single taut rope holding his tent up.

Danna rushed to the forefront of his thoughts as he envisioned a life there with her on the island, not hiding, running, or looting, but just living and growing old.

His eyes shifted to his belt hanging by his cot.

He envisioned life with her at sea, roused from the ship’s sway with the morning sun falling on her soft lips before he kissed her awake.

But both lives were lies.

His brow furrowed, knowing no other woman’s lips would be as sweet. Knowing no other woman’s embrace would be as cherished, he closed his eyes.

Regardless of which path he took, it would inevitably lead to ruin.

If he stayed, the Pirate Kings would carve her up just as Frank warned and then kill him before burning the island to the ground.

If he left, he would be a fraud to Danna, promising to return when he couldn’t, at least not for a long while.

And what of Ma? She’d never leave Ma. He had never been afraid of taking what he wanted, but for the first time in his life, he feared what would be left behind if he did.

Would she wait for him? Would she move on? Would she even want to?

His heart was torn, and he wished he had never visited this island—never known Danna. Why hadn’t the sea pushed his ship toward another neighboring island? Why had the sea carried them to Danna’s island?

As he drifted to sleep, his ears numbed to the sound of snores, which scared off any predator that might be lurking.

He dreamed of Danna, knowing she would only ever be his in his dreams. If the enchanter’s prophecy spoke true, perhaps the man destined to heal what he would leave broken would come. For her sake. Not his.