Page 33 of Storm over the Caribbean (Storm and Silence Saga #8)
“Yep. Let’s just say below decks might not be the safest place after all.”
“I suddenly feel really brave. Let’s join the fight!”
“Yes. Let’s.”
As fast as we could, the two of us made our way down the passage. When we reached the ladder leading up to the deck, I stopped and listened. Not that I had to listen very hard to hear the cacophony of screams and gunshots coming from above.
And Mr Ambrose was up there.
Blasted belly! Why can’t pregnancies go faster? Then I could be up there with him, fighting!
Honestly, it was a miracle that Mr Ambrose had not already found a way to shorten pregnancies. Nine months spent of reduced walking speed and working capacity? Outrageous!
Another cannon shot cut my thoughts short. No bloody time for this!
“All right!” I muttered, glancing back at the boy cowering behind me. “I’m gonna go up there and take a look. You’re going to stay here and come up only if the ship starts sinking. Understood?”
The boy nodded like an over-eager woodpecker. “Aye aye, Sir!”
I gave a nod in response and, slowly and carefully, started making my way up to the deck. Or at least tried to. Turns out, going up a ladder on a swaying ship while pregnant was not a very easy thing to do.
Crap, crap, crap! When I get my hands on you, Mr Ambrose, I’m going to make it clear what exactly I think of your plan!
Finally, I reached the top of the ladder and very, very carefully stuck my head out of the hatch.
The scene that met my eyes was pure, unadulterated chaos.
Men shouting, shooting and running around.
Blood-spattered rags that had once been sails waving in the wind.
Horrifically mangled body parts scattered over—
Quickly, I pulled my head back beneath the deck again. For some reason, I suddenly felt rather queasy. Seasickness, probably. Or morning sickness. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with my stomach rebelling at the sight of gore scattered all over the ship.
Then I heard a scream from above and almost felt my heart stop. It was a strangled scream, and a distant one. Too distant to make out whether or not it came from my husband.
Hell!
Cursing Mr Rikkard Ambrose all the way to the fourth circle of hell and back, I slowly stuck my head out of the hole again. 23
The first thing I saw was a man tumbling to the deck, a massive, bloody hole in his chest.
It wasn’t Mr Ambrose.
ThankGodthankGodthankGod!
Then again, if Mr Rikkard Ambrose were about to die, would he scream?
No. I was fairly certain it would be stoic silence for my darling husband, even in his last moments.
So I shut out all sounds and continued to let my eyes sweep across the deck, flicking from pirate to pirate.
They were arrayed at the railing, engaged in a deadly shootout with the sailors on the other ship—and after mere moments of observation, it became clear the latter were losing fast. Several of the pirates had already thrown grappling hooks onto the other ship and were slowly hauling it closer.
I was counting my blessings that both sides’ cannons seemed to have run out of gunpowder, because if they hadn’t—
Boom!
Crack!
Oh hell.
The whole ship lurched, and I barely ducked down in time to avoid the wooden splinters scattering across the deck. A moment later, I felt the ship tilt, ever so slightly.
Bloody hell! Are we going down? Are we bloody sinking?
Only when, after a moment, I didn’t hear the rush of water and the ship didn’t tilt any farther did I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Stay down!” I hissed into the darkness below. “We just got winged! We’re all right! Everything is all right!”
Of course, the moment those words left my mouth, I spotted Mr Rikkard Ambrose.
He wasn’t with the others. He was high, high above, dangling from the rigging, his long hair whipping in the wind and a fierce light blazing in his eyes. I felt my heart leap into my throat. What the heck was he doing up there? He couldn’t possibly be planning to—
Just then, the ship tilted.
My eyes widened as the mast of our ship dipped towards the other, momentarily shortening the distance between the two, and…
Don’t you dare! Don’t you bloody dare, you icy idiot!
He jumped!
For a moment, a terrible, torturously long moment, Mr Ambrose seemed to be suspended in mid-air between the two vessels. Silence rang in my ears, my own terror blocking out all sound. Then he plunged down and slammed onto the deck, rolling to soften the impact and coming to his feet in a blink.
Right behind the enemy sailors.
Holyhellyes!
That bloody insane bastard! Had he been playing the iceberg for so long that his brain was frozen? If he tried something like that again, I’d…I’d…
…stay here, safe and sound.
As much as I hated to admit it, what the mocking little voice at the back of my mind whispered was the truth.
Because… I might be willing to risk my own neck in that blood-spattered chaos out there, I might even be willing to whack a sailor or two over the head—but I was not willing to endanger the life of Qwerty Ambrose.
And yes, that’s the name I was going to give my baby. Got any problems with that?
Thus, because of my little one, I was staying firmly where I was, far away from the massacre.
Yet…
Yet I couldn’t help but wish I could be out there! I couldn’t help but wish I were on that other ship, fighting beside him!
“Oy! Look behind you!” one of the enemy sailors shouted. “There’s one of the bloody pira—ugh!”
Not that it seemed to be necessary.
Mr Ambrose came to his feet in one smooth move, his knife slashing at the two sailors who had turned to face him, proving why he was known as a cutthroat businessman.
Both dropped to the ground, clutching their bloody necks.
When two more turned around and raised their pistols, he threw himself to the deck and kicked out.
“Wha—aaaaaaah!”
Legs kicked out from under them, the two men toppled backwards.
Their shots went wide, and with a quick punch each, they were sent sailing over the railing and straight into the ocean below.
Snatching up the men’s discarded pistols, Mr Ambrose wasted no time in starting to eliminate the competition.
Bang! Bang!
More sailors turned, quickly realizing what was going on behind them. But not quickly enough. Mr Ambrose fired.
Bang!
And fired. And fired.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Wow. He really loved firing people, didn’t he?
Bang!
Or at them, apparently.
But suddenly, things got serious. A door leading into the ship was flung open, and a row of men in red-and-white uniforms dashed out.
Well, look at that. Here’s the reason we were fired upon the moment they spotted us. We’ve encountered a vessel belonging to her Majesty’s Royal Navy. The bloody Royal Navy!
Shit crap damn! Why does this kind of stuff keep happening to me?
Look at the bright side, Lilly! At least now you can get some real experience as a pirate! Arrr, matey!
Sometimes I really hated that inner voice of mine.
“Load!” a voice roared over the din. Probably an officer. Definitely someone who should be offed.
Mr Ambrose whirled around to face the new foes. But he was half a ship’s length away from the soldiers.
“Aim!” the officer bellowed.
Oh…to hell with it!
Growling, I whipped out my pistol and fired without hesitation. The officer gave a yelp, and promptly went down clutching his leg, his head hitting the deck with a thud and knocking him out.
What, you thought just because I didn’t plan to interfere that I was going to walk around unarmed? Dream on!
The soldiers, meanwhile, were still patiently waiting for the command to fire. None of them seemed to have noticed that their superior officer was out like a light on the deck behind them.
Well, my last name is Ambrose now. How can I waste time or opportunities?
I aimed again.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
After three more men went down, the rest of them seemed to catch on to what was happening. Whirling around, they frantically searched the enemy ship’s deck—until one of them gave a shout and stabbed his arm forward. It was pointing straight at where my head was poking above the deck.
Damn!
“Over there!” The man shouted. “Get him! Get that bastard! Fire! Fire!”
As one, they raised their rifles. Before I could even move a single muscle, they took aim, and…