The Blue Diamond (The Razor's Edge Book 1) (25 page)

“Pleased to finally meet ye,
Cap’n,” Sandy said with his outstretched hand.

“The pleasure is mine. You
take care of this woman, or I’ll be paying you a very unwelcome visit.”

“Not ta’ worry, Cap’n. She’s
me match, and I’ll be taking good care a’ this one here fer a long time.”

“Well, see to it, then.”
Ivory pulled Miranda into a tight embrace and then let her go with a gentle
push. “Go on, and don’t worry…I’ll find you. There’s more gold coming your way
once I finish my business”

“I believe you will,”
Miranda said with a wink. “We’ll just go make our goodbyes to the rest and be
on our way.”
 
Watching her beloved cousin
walk away on the arm of her new beau made Ivory’s chest tighten but when
Miranda looked back with a sad smile, she knew she wasn’t ready yet to say
goodbye.

“Miranda, wait,” Ivory said,
pulling her back. “I can’t let you go like this. We’ll have a party tonight at
the pub. Would you like that?”

“Thank God! I was starting
to feel like you were happy to be rid of me!”

“I need to see to a few
things first.
 
Can you inform the others,
and we’ll gather around six o’clock?”

“Consider it done,” Sandy
chimed in.

Ivory headed down the beach
to go over the log and navigation with James for their impending voyage. Every
barrel, crate, and bucket was inventoried, until Ivory knew exactly what they’d
need to supply the journey.
 
She counted
out what James would need in order to procure it as quickly as possible. Keara
assisted him, and by the time they were all preparing to take the stroll to the
pub, Ivory was free to enjoy the festivities as much as her cohorts, with barely
a care to hold her down.

The torch-lit path into town
was packed with frolicking pirates and scantily clad women waiting to join them
for wine and merriment. Ivory watched from her bedroom window until most of
them were the size of ants fading into the sand, before making sure the
diamonds were securely back in their hiding place and locking down the house to
leave. She snatched her old cavalier and buckled her belt on her way out the
door.

“You do not leave this
house,” Ivory ordered Richard as he sat on the front porch carving a piece of
driftwood.

“I don’t know why I can’t
go. I’m nearly a man.”

“You’re about as near to a
man as I am.” Ivory watched Richard’s brow disappear beneath his bangs. “You
know what I mean but I’d have to agree that both of us have more of the right
stuff to pass for one than most of the ones I know. But, please, just stay put
and keep an eye on the house. Any sign of trouble, run as fast as you can to
the pub and fetch me.”

Richard nodded glumly and
went back to his carving.

The noise echoing from the
town was joyous and pulled at Ivory until she weaved her way through the
boisterous mass of skirts and knickers.
 
She finally found her cousins already raising their cups of ale and rum,
as well as their voices in song. Cassandra turned on her bench, handed Ivory a
mug, and cleared a seat for her, all the while continuing to sway and sing at
the top of her lungs.

Ivory had never seen the pub
this crowded, but she rarely visited, and as she swayed in time with Cassandra,
she wondered what had kept her away from such pleasantries. The festive
atmosphere did not, however, keep her from scanning the faces in the room. Many
were unfamiliar, but even though there were several ships in port, she tried
not to be suspicious. Still, she found herself at the song’s end asking
Cassandra if she knew any of them.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen
half of these men before,” Cass answered.
 
“The familiar ones were Jackson’s left-over crew, but the others?
 
I cannot say.”

“I don’t like strangers.
Shall we keep a watchful eye on them?”

“You know my mind too well,
cousin,” Cassandra said, rising from her seat to have her pitcher refilled.

“I’ll get that, Cass.” Ivory
smiled and took the pitcher over to the bar and dipped herself sideways between
two of the unfamiliar faces.

“How’d ye do, m’lady?” one
of the men asked, as he shamelessly undressed her with his eyes.

“Captain Ivory Shepard, sir…
and you are?”

“Beggin’ yer pardon, Cap’n
Shepard. I be Peter McMillon, one of Cap’n Jackson’s men.”

“Captain Jackson, you say?
Is he here?”

“Him’s upstairs, m’lady. Oh,
pardon…”

“For Christ’s sakes, if he’s
spending his money on whores, what care is that of mine? Where did you and the
rest of these men come from?”

“Sorry Cap’n…we got word
‘bout a week ago he was lookin’ fer us, so we hopped us a ship outta Kingston,
and here we are.”

“Kingston, you say?”

“We got our asses outta
Florida as soon as we could after the wreck, but Cap’n Jackson was already long
gone by the time we was back on our feet. Didn’t like America much. Too much
goin’ on there fer this bunch. We likes our freedom.”

“Why Kingston?”

“We heard tell Cap’n Jackson
was in Kingston, so we figured we’d try lookin’ there first, But, he’d already
moved on. Then, we got the word he was here and was lookin’ fer us, and well,
here we is. A job’s a job.”

Ivory reached across the bar
and retrieved the filled pitcher. She paid the bartender and turned to go, but
then she stopped and turned back to Peter one last time. “Mister McMillon, have
you received your orders from Captain Jackson yet?”

“Why no, Cap’n. Why d’ye
ask?”

“I was just curious. Enjoy
my ship, and see if you can manage to keep her right side up.” Ivory dodged her
way back to the table and slid back in next to Cassandra. “Something’s not
quite right.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just had a few words with
that one at the bar.” Ivory moved her eyes to Peter and back. “Apparently,
Jackson sent word to these men to join him here…before you even left for
Nassau.”

“So? He knew he was getting
the
Jade
in the end, if it survived
the trip, and possibly the
Cat
. I
suppose he was just making sure he had a full crew if and when we returned. You
can’t very well run a ship, even a sloop, without a crew.”

“It’s just a gut feeling.
I’ll adhere to your explanation for now, but we’ll keep that watchful eye on
them anyway.”

As the evening advanced into
the wee hours, the music and singing grew softer and slower. The men and women
disappeared, two by two, upstairs or elsewhere, until maybe a dozen or so were
left, passed out drunk and sprawled upon benches and chairs. Ivory was spent,
and she nudged Cassandra to leave after noticing Keara and James, as well as
Miranda and Sandy, were gone, most likely to Miranda’s old favorite room.
“Looks like it’s just you and me,” Ivory laughed, helping Cassandra to her feet
and walking arm in arm down the dark stretch to the house.

“They really should keep
these torches lit. I can barely see a thing.”

“That’s not due to the
torches, Cass. You’re piss drunk. There’s nothing but tiny slits where your eyes
used to be.”

“Speaking of piss.”

“Right here, Cass?”

“Seems as good a place as
any.”

“You know, I may be drunk,
but I still think Jackson is up to something.”

“I can’t talk to you while
I’m going, Ivory,” Cassandra murmured as she squatted in the sand.

“Never mind. Get on with it.
I want my bed.” Ivory laughed.

Chapter
Twenty-Six

Ivory awoke to the rich
aroma of ham and eggs frying, and when she rubbed her eyes open and rolled to
her left, Cassandra’s feet looked back.

“Ohhhhhh…” Cassandra moaned,
rolling onto her back.

“Cass, what the hell?”

“I couldn’t sleep. The room
was spinning around, so I went outside to get some air and when I returned,
your boy was in my bed. I didn’t have the heart, or the senses, to wake him. My
God, what is that glorious smell?”

“My boy, I believe, must be
quite a cook.
 
I suppose I’ll have to
find him a cot or something.”

“Mornin’ ladies!” Richard
appeared at the door.

“Richard, if you shout once
more, I’ll kill you dead,” Ivory whispered, holding her head.

“Sorry about the bed, Madame
Cassandra, but when ye didn’t come back, I suppose I just fell in.”

“What is it, Richard?” Ivory
groaned.

“Breakfast is ready. It’s
nearly noon, so I figured you’d want somethin’ on yer stomachs—at least, Cap’n
Carbonale…well, he always did the mornin’ after.” Richard swallowed hard and
lowered his head.

“We’ll be there in a few
minutes,” Ivory said and nudged Cassandra to rise.

Once she had filled her
belly, Ivory made her way to the beach and found Keara and James sitting at the
water’s edge. “There’s a fine meal courtesy of my new housemate, if you’re
hungry.”

“Sounds good to me,” James
said rising and dusting himself off. “Are you joining me, Ke?”

“I’ll be along in a minute.”

Ivory plopped down next to
Keara and said, “Quite the affair last night.”

“I imagine we’ll all have
our heads in a hole today.”

“You stayed behind to speak
to me, so speak.”

“This man in Charles Towne,
can he be trusted?” Keara stood, rolled her knickers above her knees and waded
through the warm shallows.

“He didn’t come with
recommendations, only that he buys jewels. You know the sort. It’s a chance
we’ll have to take.”

“Why now?”

“The time feels right. I
can’t explain it. I just want out of this business, Ke. Don’t you?”

“Where will you go?” Keara
asked as she sat back down close to Ivory, and searched her eyes for what she
believed was being left unsaid.

“I haven’t figured that part
out yet. Somewhere far from here, though; I do know that much.”

Keara nodded and patted her
cousin on the shoulder before using it to leverage herself back to her feet.
“I’m going to join James. Come find me when you’re ready to load up. Everything
will be ready to be brought down by four o’clock.”

“Thank you, Ke.”

Ivory stayed in the sand
until the tide tickled her toes, and then she headed up to the house to ready
herself for the trip back to America. She had no nostalgic angst or
expectations of what she’d find back in Charles Towne, but rather hoped to get
in and out as fast as she could.

When they first left their
home and found themselves aboard the
Demon
Sea,
headed for some of the most threatening waters known to man, Ivory had
managed to ease Barclay’s resentment, and keep his crew of miscreants at
bay—for a while. The brief discussion of, once and for all, escaping their
lives of piracy, had released Ivory’s memories of how she’d gotten them into it
in the first place.

Those were the days of hell
on Earth. The dirty, jagged, and blistered days, filled with swelling seas and
not a single creature comfort for months. Fear loomed constantly… of disease,
starvation, and rape, regardless of Barclay’s word. All the cousins knew of
piracy was that their word was their bond, but only to one another, and
certainly not to four pretty young things fresh off the farm. Even dressed as
men and smelling of salt and sweat, the hungry eyes on them day and night hid
no treacherous thought, nor did the crew attempt to shroud their complete
disregard for the girls’ young lives.

The
first few weeks were nearly unbearable, and they huddled together for some
semblance of warmth and security, one always awake keeping watch so the others
might find some small measure of sleep in order to meet the brutal demands of
every waking moment.
Ivory had insisted they work at the side of
the crew, as a show of strength, as well as to build up their own. She was not
foolish enough to believe that, at some point, they wouldn’t have to fight for
their honor, and possibly their lives. They were aware since childhood that
freedom comes at a price—a price too high for the meek and frightened.
 
They’d need to thicken their skin with muscle
as well as the mental fortitude necessary to reach land again. The first time
they heard the hearty wail of “Sail!” Ivory trembled so that she dropped to her
knee and tried her best to feign tripping to cover up nearly fainting in
terror.

“Miss Shepard, take your
ladies below. And should
 
these swabs be
foolish enough to fight back and God forbid we lose this fight, kill your
cousins… and then yourself. Trust me, you’ll not wish to draw breath should
that pack of dogs board us.”

“I’ll send them below, but
I’ll not pass up the chance at last to show your own pack of dogs who I am.”

“It’s your pretty head. If
the first sight of a sail dropped you, let’s hope you can stay on your feet
when they bare their fangs and lunge at your throat.”

“I’ll live Captain.
 
And perhaps you haven’t noticed, but they’re
not my ladies anymore. Today shall prove that.”

“Such a shame to waste such
charms. Look at you,” he said, taking her roughly by the jaw and she pulled
away in disgust. “You’ve lost your youthful glow to the harsh wind and sun, and
if you ever had a tender inch, you’ve buried it beneath the vines of bitterness
you’ve wrapped yourself in. Tell me Ivory, who did this to you? Who plucked the
rose and left the thorns?”

“Those who would step over
that rail will meet my blade before another unwanted and indecent hand breaches
my striking distance. I’ll remove that hand and take his arm as well, and if
that doesn’t stop him, his head.”

“Such a tragedy you are and
since I’ve my own tragic story to write, it’s time to give back to the world
what she’s bestowed upon us, my dear. Ready the guns! Do not fire until I give
the order! She’s no fucking good in a million pieces!” Barclay roared over
their heads as he raced, broadsword in hand, to the stern and stood at her
highest point. “Shepard, get your skinny ass up here!” Ivory raced towards him,
taking the steps two at a time until she was at his back. “You want to be
free?”

“I will be free!”

“Bring her around! We’ll
rake her from the bow and then take her from the starboard side!” He barked to
the helmsman.

A deafening hum pierced her
brain, and she sheathed her sword and cupped the sides of her head in an
attempt to silence it.
 
When she let go,
the only sound she heard was her own heartbeat, which she imagined was well
over one hundred beats per minute. In the background, buried beneath the
thumping drumbeats that felt as if they were about to split her chest, were the
roaring cries of the crew. The muffled screams and fearsome bellows of men in
search of blood and fortune were barely audible behind the wall of her
excruciating terror.

Ivory glanced up and over
the side, watching as the panicked crew of their prey scrambled wildly about,
dodging the incoming arrows and gunfire, obviously unprepared in both arms and
numbers for such an assault. She lowered her hands for a moment and pitied
them, as she watched the first man at the rail of their prize lose the left
side of his skull in a spatter of bone and bloodied skin. The gun flew from his
hands and his feet left the deck simultaneously, sending him bouncing backwards
out of this life and unnaturally into the next, as nothing more than a heap of
dead flesh.

Her own scream caused a pop
deep within her eardrums, and all at once, the echoes of deadly battle bashed
their way in. Gunfire and the thumps and clinks of grappling hooks dropping to
the deck in preparation to make capture were sharp, and what she could clearly
see and hear was matched sight for sound at last.

“Fire!” Barclay ordered, as
all five guns kicked back with a deafening boom, shaking the
Demon Sea
. Gunpowder and choking smoke
filled the air, but as they came about to the starboard side of what was
obviously no more than a merchant ship, the smoke cleared in the windy spray,
and Barclay called to hold fire. Ivory looked across the water to find all
those left standing shoulder to shoulder on their deck. Their arms were raised
and their meager weapons lay at their feet. The damage done by chain shot,
Barclay’s preferred method of maximum devastation, left blood, flesh, and
splintered wood littered throughout their ship.
 

“Take her lads; she’s all
ours!” Barclay shouted as he sheathed his sword and snatched Ivory by the back
of her neck. “Look, girl! Do you see those twenty or so swabs with their tails
tucked in their asses? I’m about to give the order of no quarter. Do you know
what that means?”

“No quarter?” Ivory asked,
shaking free of his grip and pushing him off, as she backed away in horror.
“Why? They surrendered, and yet you’d…”

“That’s right, lass.
 
Kill them all.”

“That’s a coward’s maneuver,
Barclay. Those aren’t pirates; they’re sailors trying to make a living.”

“We’re about to take their
living! What will they have to live for, once it’s ours?” Barclay eyes shined,
and Ivory could see the monster he truly was.

Ivory pulled her sword and
pointed it at him. Her lips went flat, and her brow lowered to the point where
he could see only the bottom of her eyes. “Call them off. Take the loot and let
the living go.”

Barclay burst into laughter.
“Hold your claws, little kitty, before I rip them out and feed you to the
dogs!”

“We’ve been here before,
remember? This time, I won’t stop when I pierce your yellow hide.”

“Oh, but you will.” Barclay
said with a smooth purr, as a thick forearm clamped around her neck and pulled
her off her feet. Ivory dropped her sword and dug her nails into the man’s hard
flesh, as she kicked him again and again with her heels. The more she resisted,
the more his grip tightened against her throat. The man twisted and turned,
causing her to swing from the neck down like a clock’s pendulum. With a loud
pop and a violent jerk, his arm suddenly pulled free and he flung her, sending
her hard against the boards.
 
She rolled
to a motionless stop, face down.

Still alive, but gasping for
breath, she raised her head slightly and opened her eyes to find her attacker
lying next to her. A gaping wound opened from the back of his head straight
through to what was left of his face. She clutched at her neck with one hand
and pushed herself up on one knee to draw a deep breath. Once her vision
cleared, she looked up to find Cassandra, blankly staring down at the dead man,
with a smoldering pistol dangling from her left hand.

“Good shot, Cass! Duck!”
Ivory shouted as she dove for her sword, picking it up and swinging it at the
sailor about to do mortal damage to Cassandra from behind. She leaped forward
and opened the man’s throat with the tip of her sword and watched him fall.

“Get them!” Barclay ordered
as he barreled towards Ivory, but most of the crew had already gone over to the
merchant ship, and but a handful remained. He swung wildly at her with his
broadsword and nearly caught the sleeve of her shirt with his backswing, but
Ivory spun away. She swiped hard at him and met his blade low. Barclay came up
from under with his sword and swirled hers, tossing it off, and then came at
her again with a powerful fore swing, as their blades rang out against each
other. The blow set Ivory back a few feet. She stumbled, but recovered, and
squared her stance before striking out again.

Cassandra watched as she
reloaded the pistol in her trembling hands. When she heard running steps
approaching fast behind her, she turned, aimed, and fired into the chest of one
of Barclay’s men, knocking him off of his feet, dead in the air. Keara rushed
to her and knelt down, pulling the sword from the dead man’s hand. “Cass,
reload!”