Page 6 of Scourge of the Shores

The Jaymes Encounter

The pirates crawled back into their ships in the distance, and the resulting sails unfurled.

With its bright red hull of three gun decks and flippant white sails, the lead ship stood out among the brown hulls of two gun decks and raised black flags.

Their ships were so much bigger than the village’s carracks and frigates, even her family’s galleon.

Pirates—not what Danna needed. If the sea dragon weren’t enough trouble, Pirate Kings on the eastern shore surely would be.

But part of her wished to be out on the open waves; part of it scared her.

There was something about standing on a gunwale, swaying with the ocean, looking out at the night sky or the glistening water beneath a full sun that had always made her feel at home.

The DeepMother’s soul called out to her in vain—a hollow call, not in invitation, but in cruel reminder.

The sea was not hers to answer, no matter how deeply it called.

Her duty was to her ancestor’s island, the village, and Ma.

She turned her back to the sea as she had always done.

“We be needin’ a first watch of three for both Cain and these Pirate Kings.” She scanned the men and women before her. “Any volunteers?”

Lucas raised his hand at the chest. “I’ll lead the first watch. I need twenty.”

She tipped her head in gratitude. “I’ll keep a night’s eye on the burials in case a few scallywags come trekking through the jungle to flank us.”

“Ye think them Pirate Kings would attack a Chadwick?” Scotty piped up, questioning the need for watches. Jim crossed his arms. The others waited for Danna’s answer.

She spat on the ground next to her feet and crossed her arms. “Pirate Kings ain’t never cared for tradition.

” Her fingers twitched toward her flintlocks.

“All that Jaymes boy saw was legendary gold buried on our isle. Ye could see it in his eyes. I regretted passing me family name through me lips.” She glanced over her shoulder as the ships headed toward the eastern shore.

“Shouldn’t have given me name”—her attention returned to the people before her—“if it draws trouble, it’ll answer to me first.”

Lucas shook his head. “I reckoned the name Chadwick would carry weight with any Pirate King, but ye see into men’s souls better than most." He craned his neck, eyes glintin’ with caution. "We’ll keep our wits sharp tonight. Aye?"

The shouted question rang out.

A loud “Aye” responded in unison from the ranks.

The corners of Danna’s mouth turned up. “Take ye watch,” she ordered.

“Aye, Captain,” they responded. She walked forward, and the crowd split to let her through.

Lucas accompanied her as they approached her hut.

“Thank ye for the support, Lucas,” she whispered once they were alone, and the gathered crowd had dispersed.

He placed his hand on her shoulder to turn him toward her. “Ye don’t need to add more cargo to the burdens ye carry.”

Danna shoved his hand off her shoulder. “Ye know nothin’ of burdens,” she gritted, pushing a finger in his face.

Lucas snatched her wrist. Squeezed it until it hurt.

Danna’s fingers curled into her fist to fight the pain, and she hid her grimace with a growl.

“Let go,” she ordered.

He shook his head. “Ye’ll listen to me, Danna Chadwick.

” He pulled her wrist to his chest. “I love ye. Always have. Always will. But ye’re twenty-one.

If ye keep going like this, ye’ll be dead before ye reach me age, a ripe ‘ole thirty-three. Ye make decisions, and ye live with the consequences, good or bad. No one else here’s willin’ to do that, and because no one else is willin’, they obey ye order. ”

“And what if I lead them straight down Cain’s gullet?” She yanked her wrist out of his grip, only for him to snatch it back and lock it against his chest.

“They’d follow ye to Tophet with their heads held high,” he said.

The burn in the back of her eyes raced down her throat. “Then their blood be on me hands.”

Lucas released his grip on her wrist. “Is this ‘bout the three ships, Danna?”

“I told them we’d do best to meet Cain at sea. They died ‘cause of me, and the victory ain’t even ours.” Her bottom lip trembled.

Lucas pulled her in close and wrapped his arms around her.

He rested his chin on the top of her head, and she nuzzled into his chest. She took a deep breath.

His briny, smoky scent had never changed.

Lucas was seventeen when she was five, and her father died suddenly.

He had been playing kickball on the shore when he grabbed his chest, sank to his knees, and fell over without life in his eyes.

Danna could still hear her child’s scream in memory.

Lucas had run to her, wrapped his arms around her, and kept her from seeing her father’s lifeless body.

He had only been a few years younger than Ma and became Danna’s father figure in the year following her father’s passing.

Now, as a young woman, she wished to be a child again.

She pressed her forehead to Lucas’s chest and balled her hands under her chin.

Lucas whispered, his voice low, "They died defendin’ their home and their kin—same as I’d gladly do fer ye, yer Ma, and me own blood."

He stared out at the restless sea, a grimness set in his jaw.

"Fightin’ on the shore never did much good against that scourge. Yer plan was good—that’s why we took to the sea, huntin’ Cain where he thought himself strongest."

With a gentleness, rare in his callused hands, he lifted her chin, fingers tanglin’ lightly in her long hair.

"Now stop dwellin’ on the dead, lass. We need Captain Chadwick standin’ tall and clear of conscience."

A tear ran down each of her eyes, but he wiped them away and kissed her forehead. “Ye be safe. I’ll be near.”

“I’ll be fine, Lucas. Always am,” she said and pulled away from him. She turned to go inside the hut, and with her head down, she said, “Thank ye. Fer everything.”

Lucas nodded and patted her back before going on his way.

The dark interior blinded her as the door slammed shut from behind. She blinked out the sunspots lingering in her vision and gathered her bearings by swiping her hand to her side to touch the long counter.

Ma sniffled. “What was all the commotion?”

Danna reached over and pulled back the curtain made of palm tree bark. Sunlight flooded the hut. Ma groaned in discomfort.

“Pirates came. Refused ‘em, so they’re staying on the East side to make ship repairs before they be on their way,” Danna said.

She rolled a blanket and a small pillow into a tight circle and stuffed it into a pack that hung by the window. “Lucas is takin’ the first watch. I’ll be with Father and the others and makin’ sure those ship-lootin’ scumbags don’t steal nothin’.”

Ma cleared her throat. “Lucas not going with you?”

“No, Ma. Ain’t lookin’ to draw eyes on the graves. I’m only going in case them seadogs go sniffin’ where they shouldn’t. If I need Lucas, he’ll see the flare.” Danna stuffed some jerky and biscuits into the pack and slung a full skin of water around her neck.

“Danna,” Ma crooned.

Danna peered over her shoulder.

Ma’s nub pointed toward her. “You be safe, my girl.”

Danna nodded. “Always am, Ma.” She took a deep breath of stale air and went to the door. She opened it, letting the fresh breeze hit the sweat on her face and chest. “Ye want to step out? Take some fresh air?”

Danna’s question floated in the dark space. It had always been the same answer. She expected the same from her mother again, but hope made her ask the question anyway.

A quiet “No” lingered between them.

Danna bit her lip. Once again, defeated, she walked out and shut the door behind her without saying another word, knowing full well that she had left the curtain open against her mother’s wishes.

* * *

Night draped the island in shadow. The shore’s palm trees bent to the hush of the ocean’s wind, giving way to the jungle, where gnarled branches carved twisted shadows against the moonlit earth.

Over the graves of dead pirate kings, moonflowers unfurled, their ghostly petals exhaling their fragrant lullaby.

The goats had long quieted, herded inland, safe from the beast that haunted the tides.

From where Danna sat in the centuries-old tree that lined the graveyard, the warm glow of the village’s torches dotted the shore like distant orbs, flickering against the dark.

The tree was her favorite childhood spot, except for the big boulder on the island’s north side, which looked out at the sea.

The branches of the centuries-old tree were wide, thick, and bunched together.

The first Chadwick had trained them to grow in such a manner that his descendants could visit him and his sons once they passed to Tophet.

The branches sat high in Danna’s time, and she could sleep there now.

She pulled out her pillow from her sack, placed her head on it, and munched on some jerky.

The air felt heavier, yet lighter on the lungs, up off the ground.

She rolled to look east with the graves spread north of the tree.

Her mind drifted to the Pirate King Jaymes and his four men accompanying him to the shore that afternoon.

She tore another piece of jerky between her teeth.

The others had shrunk back when she spoke her name.

Not Jaymes. His gaze sharpened—not with fear, but hunger.

And not just for gold. But whatever he sought, he’d have to pry it from her cold, dead hands.

The day’s burdens weighed heavily in her chest, and no matter what Lucas said, those three ships were lost because of her decision.

If she couldn’t protect the living, she would absolutely protect the dead.

But she hoped she was wrong about the Pirate King and that any skirmish could be avoided.

The island villagers were nearing a breaking point, unable to endure much more.