Pirates of King's Landing

Port Royal, Jamaica Port Royal, JamaicaPort Royal, Jamaica1741 17411741“Wishing ye had a different life, lass?” a voice with a deep Scottish burr asked. Brianna Holland pulled her gaze away from a trio of beautiful women in fine gowns as they paraded through the market of Port Royal on the arms of their gentlemen. The women’s parasols were poised perfectly to keep the sun off their pale skin. “No.” Yes, she silently amended. Yes, Joseph McBride—or Joe, as he was more often called—was forty-eight to her mere twenty years. He was three years older than her father, Thomas. The two men were like brothers, so Joe had become an uncle to her. And he knew her so well that he often knew when she lied to him. “It’s all right ta want things in life, lass. Even pretty things. ’Tis yer right, as a pretty lass.” He nudged her arm with his elbow and nodded at the genteel ladies she had been watching. prettypretty“But I’m not simply a pretty lass, Joe.” “Ye are pretty—for a pain in me arse, that is.” He chuckled when she scowled at him. “I’m more than that.” She’d spent her whole life proving to everyone around her that she wasn’t a silly creature in a skirt. She was a force to be reckoned with. A pirate, and the daughter of a pirate king. more“Aye, lass, ye certainly are more. No man who knows ye would believe ye were anything less. That being said . . . What’s a pretty dress now and then if’n it pleases ye?” Brianna’s hands adjusted her leather waistcoat and trousers, more aware than she had been in a long time of her masculine disguise. It had become second nature to her to dress and act like a man. When she’d been younger, it had been harder for her. She’d had to do everything twice as well or twice as hard as any man. But over time it had become natural to her, and she’d grown confident in her life and the challenges she faced. Such as now, strolling about a market, playing the part of a young man. The short brown wig that covered her hair was tightly pinned into her blonde tresses, concealing her feminine appearance. The wig itched, but she put up with the irritation because she couldn’t bring herself to cut her hair to complete her masculine disguise. If she didn’t have to pretend to be Captain Bryan Holland around everyone but her own crew, she could have ditched the wig, but in a public port like this, it was important that she go unnoticed. And a woman in men’s clothing would always be noticed if she didn’t care to hide her figure with wrappings around her breasts and either cut or hide her hair beneath a masculine wig. alwaysShe had a few frocks on her ship, but she had rare occasion to wear them, and she owned nothing so fine as what these women were wearing. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to drift through the market while on the arm of a handsome gentleman. She’d feel as elegant and beautiful as a butterfly. She imagined her attractive escort would be wearing a colorful frock coat trimmed in gold embroidery, and he would bow to her and offer his arm. She would smile, bat her lashes, and demurely raise her parasol against the bright Caribbean sun. He would gaze at her with admiration and desire, and she would lean in and— Oh, what nonsense. To be a caged creature whose only purpose in life was to be a man’s shadow who birthed children and eased his physical needs. No, that was no life for her. Brianna loved her freedom as the daughter of a notorious pirate. She could go where she wished and do as she pleased. What did it matter if she never had a fancy gent moon at her with stars in his eyes? She had her pick of pirate lovers, if she ever so chose. They, at least, would understand her and her seafaring life, whereas fancy gents would not. Oh, what nonsense.“There’s a seamstress’s shop, if’n ye want ta pick that pretty frock now, lass. Ye’ve got the gold. Why not treat yerself?” Joe suggested. “I’ll be over there, seeing ta our rations.” Joe nodded in the direction of the warehouses that stored food and barrels of water. The two of them had slipped into Port Royal on a jolly boat before dawn to secure supplies for the Sea Serpent, still the most beautiful eighteen-gun sloop to sail the Spanish Main. Yes, it was more than twenty years old, but her father had taken excellent care of it before passing it on to her, and as far as she was concerned, the old beauty was still the best ship between here and England. Sea SerpentBrianna glanced around the marketplace, taking in the various stalls and the vendors selling fresh fruit and vegetables. Everything on the island was bright and beautifully colored. The scent of spices, salted meats, and the natural perfume from the bouquets of flowers in the stalls made the market Brianna’s favorite place in Port Royal. The stone structures of the houses and shops behind the stalls added to the cozy feel of the market. A seamstress stood in her doorway, waving goodbye to a plump woman in a cream-colored gown that fairly dripped with pearls. Slipping her hand into her trouser pocket, Brianna cupped her purse, which was fat with Spanish doubloons. It was her share of the spoils from a Spanish merchant ship they’d stopped last week. Their cook, a man named John Estes, had happily claimed the choicest food belonging to the captain and the higher officers for their pirate crew. Then they had left the ship and its crew to find their way to a port. It was the best way to pirate, in Brianna’s view. Take what you want, but leave the crew alive and with the means to get home. It was why her father was considered a gentleman pirate. “He wouldn’t begrudge me one dress, I suppose,” Brianna muttered. Her father had never insisted she follow in his footsteps as a pirate, but he hadn’t discouraged her either. He’d allowed her to be whoever she wanted to be—woman, pirate, even a womanly pirate. womanlyShe crossed the market, dodging the occasional chicken or goat who’d wandered in from a nearby yard. She straightened her shoulders and entered the dress shop. A pair of women were in the back, looking at fine kid leather gloves. The seamstress was watching them with a keen interest, given their expensive looks. The young woman sighed and rubbed one of the fine gloves against her cheek. “Oh, feel how soft these are, Mama.” “Kid gloves always are, my dear,” the older woman said. Brianna guessed they must be a mother and daughter. The girl couldn’t have been much older than she was. She wore a frosty green gown with a stomacher embroidered with brightly colored chrysanthemums and leaves. The bodice of the gown came together with a beautiful gold cording that crisscrossed over the stomacher. It was not an overly elaborate gown, but it spoke of class and wealth. The girl’s mother’s gown was done in much the same style. Their full taffeta skirts were iridescent and created an almost fairy-tale splendor as the women moved about the shop. Brenna had never had a gown like that. Hers had always been slender things, more suited to running about than the stately, graceful drifting these ladies seemed capable of. “May I help you?” The sharp voice broke in on Brianna’s study of the ladies’ clothes. The seamstress, hands on her hips, one toe tapping impatiently, was staring at her, clearly thinking she didn’t belong here. “I . . .” She cleared her throat and deepened her voice to that of a man’s. “I should like to buy a gown for my sister.” “I see.” The seamstress’s sharp gaze focused on Brianna’s tanned hands and the dirt embedded in her nails. Lord, she should have bathed last night, but she hadn’t planned on coming into a shop like this. Digging out a few gold coins, she opened her palm and almost chuckled when the seamstress gasped. The light caught on the gold galleons, making them gleam. There was not a person on earth who could turn down the glitter of gold. “Your sister?” The seamstress’s scowl softened to a polite coolness. “I don’t suppose you know her . . . measurements?” Brianna gestured to herself. “About my size, but a slightly larger bosom. We’re . . . er . . . twins.” She held out her hands in front of her chest to where her breasts would be when corseted. Currently, her breasts were bound flat to her chest, allowing them to be hidden in the loose white shirt and vest she wore. The seamstress made a little huffing sound as she took her measurements. She made quick work of poking, prodding, and circling the tape around Brianna, all the while muttering about the unorthodox act of measuring a young man for a woman’s dress. Brianna knew the woman assumed there was no sister and that she might fancy wearing dresses. She wouldn’t be the first man to do that behind closed doors. Suddenly feeling eyes on her, she turned to the young woman watching her from behind a set of hats displayed on wire stands. The girl blushed, and her doe-brown eyes widened as she realized she had been caught spying on Brianna. Given her fair looks, she was rather used to ladies believing she was a handsome young man. This, however, was the first time a young woman had reacted with such innocent desire to her, and it only made Brianna feel more alone. The attention she wanted wasn’t from a genteel young lady, but from a man. The few times she’d found lovers it had been far away from the protective reach of her father and Joe. Those heated nights had been all too brief, but she couldn’t ask for more from any man, not so long as she wanted to remain free. “Come and view my selection of silks, sir.” The seamstress waved Brianna toward the wall at the back of the shop, which had several bolts of silk fabrics and an array of colors. “We have a beautiful orange and blue . . .” She unfurled two sets of silks on the counter, and Brianna examined them but didn’t dare touch them with her soiled hands. The seamstress pulled a few sketches out from a leather portfolio. “What would she think of a robe à volante in blue, a stomacher, and underskirts in orange?” “I believe she’d like that one.” Brianna pointed to the pattern she preferred which was labeled a robe à l’Anglaise. “Excellent choice, sir. I can have the gown made for your sister in two weeks.” “Thank you.” Brianna paid extra to have the seamstress hold it for her if she was not back in two weeks to retrieve it. “My sailing schedule is a tad unpredictable,” Brianna explained. “Yes, yes, quite understandable.” The seamstress nodded, accepting the explanation readily. She had the gold in her hand and was happy to do whatever Brianna asked of her. Brianna continued to ignore the moony gazes from the young woman clutching her new kid gloves. The girl began to move toward the door and artfully tossed one of the gloves upon the ground near Brianna’s intended path of departure from the shop. Having every intention of ignoring the obvious ploy, Brianna had to halt when the girl threw herself in Brianna’s path. “Oh, thank you for retrieving my glove, sir.” The girl shot a pointed look at the glove resting on the floor between them when Brianna made no move to touch it. It was clear the girl thought she was flirting and wanted to have Brianna play the courtly gentleman. She let out a long-suffering sigh and bent, retrieving the glove. She tossed it at the girl, who fumbled to catch it, and then Brianna, with the barest politeness, moved the girl out of her way so she could leave. “Well, I never!” the girl scoffed, and Brianna almost giggled. She strode through the market, spotting Joe at the far end, but as she passed by a stall with onions and potatoes, she stopped abruptly. A bit of parchment nailed to the wooden post in front of her bore a face she recognized all too well. It was Joe’s face. His likeness had been printed on the notice. It read: “Wanted for Piracy – Apprehend on Sight.” “Wanted for Piracy – Apprehend on Sight.”“Bloody hell,” she hissed. At that moment, a small patrol of British soldiers in bright red uniforms marched through the market toward the distant naval fortress that rose out of the landscape like a wolf standing proudly in defense of all that lay behind it. They would soon cross paths with Joe, and his picture was likely to be posted in the fortress. Brianna started toward Joe, keeping calm, not wanting to attract attention until the right moment. Joe was coming toward her now, and he would soon be facing the soldiers head-on. She had to act fast. She passed by a fruit stand and picked up a juicy red tomato, testing its weight in her hands. This was a damned risky move, but she had to do something. The penalty for committing piracy was hanging, and she was not about to let that happen to Joe. She waited until the soldiers were a dozen feet away from her, then wound back her arm and threw the tomato, aiming for the chest of one of the men in front. Unfortunately, her aim was off, and the tomato smacked the man right in the face. The response was instantaneous, as the soldiers started shouting in alarm, then in anger as they realized they weren’t being attacked but that the projectile thrown at them was actually a tomato and it had been thrown in the way of an insult rather than as an attack. The man who’d been struck wiped the tomato off his face, only to make it slop down the white lapels of his uniform. He snarled in fury. Brianna had an instant to meet Joe’s startled gaze before she bolted. “Catch him!” the officer covered in tomato shouted. She’d unfortunately hit the captain who was leading the patrol. captainBrianna was quick on her feet as she wove through the marketplace, leading the men on a merry chase in the opposite direction of Joe. She stumbled right into the young woman from the dress shop and without a thought shoved the girl in front of the soldiers, who rushed to catch her before she could fall and be trampled. Brianna leapt over a cart full of vegetables and ducked into a nearby tavern. She knew Port Royal well enough to plan out a clever escape route. She dodged around the tables and drunken men to reach the staircase. She took the steps two at a time and ran until she found the first unlocked door. “Oi!” a rotund man in a shallow bathing tub snapped as she burst into his chamber. “Pardon me!” She flung the bathroom windows aside and noted the stout rope that hung between the tavern and the next building. It was a clothesline, but no clothes were currently hanging from it. She could hear the shouts below as the soldiers searched the tavern’s ground floor. Without another thought, she leapt out of the window to catch the rope. She dangled from the rope a dozen feet over the street as she moved across hand over hand, until she could swing her legs up and into the open window of the building opposite the tavern, landing nimbly on her feet. Brianna raced through the empty chamber and across the hall as she searched for another window to open. The next building in her path was only one story with an open roof. She stepped around the iron railing of the balcony and then hung down over the roof of the next building before she dropped. Landing in a crouch, she took a second to catch her breath before sprinting across the roof. Someone shouted close behind her. She cast a glance over her shoulder to see the faces of two men in the window she’d just vacated. “There he is!” Brianna leapt off the roof onto a cart of hay and immediately burrowed deep. The sound of approaching soldiers had her holding still, trying not to breathe. Her heartbeat slowed, but the thuds were so loud in her ears that she could barely hear what was happening just outside her shelter of hay. “He moves fast, Captain. He must’ve gone that way.” Brianna waited a very long time for the voices and the clanking of weaponry to grow distant before she shifted the hay away from her face to see if she was safe. Then she kicked herself free of the hay and hopped off the wagon. She chuckled as she brushed herself off and removed bits of hay from her wig. Everything around her seemed quiet as she rounded the corner of the building, but she skidded to a stop. Five soldiers had their rifles aimed square at her. They’d been waiting for her to reveal herself. Damnation. Damnation.She stepped back, ready to run again, but another six soldiers ringed around the only exit behind her. One of the men, the captain, still had bits of tomato on his face and chest. He glared at her as he stalked forward. “All this for a tomato?” she murmured, stunned that they’d spent so much effort on what they should have believed was nothing more than a harmless prank. “Just who are you?” The captain wiped the last of the tomato off his uniform. He was handsome, but a cruelness lingered around his mouth and eyes that warned Brianna of the sort of man he was. She knew plenty of men like him. “I’m nobody,” Brianna replied. “A nobody who throws tomatoes at an British officer? I highly doubt that.” The captain lifted up a piece of parchment. “Someone said you were looking at this just before you attacked us.” It was the wanted sign for Joe. “Attacked? Tell me, how injured are you by that one silly tomato?” Brianna shot back. “If the mighty English army could be felled by tomatoes, the French and Spanish would be running the West Indies,” Brianna retorted with a smirk. The captain’s face turned as red as the tomato she’d hit him with, and a vein in his temple pulsed ominously. “It was just a bit of harmless fun,” she added weakly. “I didn’t mean to hit your face. I figured it would wash out of your uniform easy enough . . .” “Fun? I think a few days in a cell will be more fun than you can handle, boy.” He nodded at several soldiers, who now closed in on Brianna. funShe raised her fists. “Like that, is it? All right.” If there was one thing she was better at than running, it was fighting. She’d learned from the best men in Tortuga. The nearest man who made a move to grab her caught a blow to his jaw that sent him to the ground hard. The next two weren’t so eager. “What are you waiting for?” the captain snapped. “He’s just a boy. Grab him.” The two men shared a look and then lunged for her at the same time. She ducked and dove forward between their arms as they closed in. Their heads collided and then they fell back, both men groaning. Brianna laughed and then kicked the next man who came at her right in the dangly bits. He clutched his groin and doubled over, wheezing in pain. Brianna whirled around to face the next attacker, but the captain had moved in, and he swung his pistol before Brianna could dodge it. The blow caught her on the temple. She blinked, her ears ringing as she gave her head a little shake. When the sunlight above her was suddenly blotted out, she looked straight up into the face of the captain. His cold smile sent her stomach plunging to her gut. “Now you’ll see my idea of fun.” myA second later, his booted foot rushed toward her face, and everything went black. When Brianna came around, her face and head hurt like hell. She groaned as she sat up and gingerly touched her forehead. The skin was swollen and hot to the touch. All around her she could hear voices in other cells, the clang of bars, and the shouts of soldiers. Dread filled her as she realized that she was trapped in a British Army jail cell. Her father was going to kill her. She fell back on the straw-filled mattress on the ground and stared at the ceiling of the cell. At least Joe was free. He may not know she’d been captured, though, and he might wait at the jolly boat hiding spot for her. It left him exposed when he needed to get back to the Sea Serpent. Her life wasn’t worth the crew of the Serpent or her father’s. Sea SerpentSerpentBlast and damnation! Blast and damnation!She sat upright again and got to her feet. There was a small window in her cell, and she casually tested the iron bars to see if there was even the slightest give. There wasn’t. She opened her mouth, making her jaw move a bit, and winced at the pain. “Ah, you’re finally awake. Good,” a cold voice said. She turned to see the captain she’d hit with the tomato watching her. He still wore his red-and-white uniform, which bore hints of tomato on the white lapels. His dark hair was pulled back into a queue and tied with a ribbon at the nape of his neck. Except for the stained uniform, he looked the part of a perfect English captain. He fingered a fine British Army blade that was tucked into his belt as though he longed to use it upon her. She hated him. It was the sort of loathing that was instantaneous, like a mongoose and cobra facing off for the first time. She’d seen a fight between two such creatures once in Cádiz, and she’d never forgotten it. Neither could live while the other was nearby. Such was the fate of natural enemies. She and this man were such enemies. Brianna stared back, openly defiant. He wasn’t the first man to look at her like that, with the promise of pain in his eyes. She had stared down a pirate once in Tortuga who had been quite literally mad. One English officer could not scare her nearly so much as that crazed pirate wielding a cutlass. “All this over a bloody tomato?” she snorted. “You must have nothing better to do.” The officer ignored her jibe and held up the parchment with Joe’s likeness printed on it. “I think it’s time we talked about your friend. He’s a known associate of the pirate Thomas Buck. That makes you an associate of Buck’s, as far as I’m concerned.” youFor a second Brianna couldn’t breathe. Thomas Buck was her father’s pirate name. He’d kept his true name of Holland a secret from all but her and Joe. It was why she’d been christened Brianna Holland rather than Buck, not that anyone but Joe knew her father’s real name was Holland. He’d told his crew it was merely to protect her with a false name. It was ironic that real name was one more way to protect her. She’d have to think fast to get around the captain’s questions about her father. “Oh? ’Ow do ye figure that, Cap’n?” She purposely slipped into an accent that her father would have chastised her for to antagonize this man. “I figure it, as you say, because when one finds a rat eating what doesn’t belong to it, there are usually more rats nearby. Pirates are nothing but rats, and anyone in the company of a pirate is most likely a pirate as well.” figureFollowing his logic, she couldn’t help but grin. “And that would make you a pirate . . . since you’re in my company. Or a rat, I should say.” ratHe’d set himself up so perfectly and hadn’t seen it coming. The only evidence of his rage was the flare of his nostrils. “You have one chance. One. Tell me about Joseph McBride and Thomas Buck or you will be hanged, drawn, and quartered.” “And if I talk?” she asked, even though she had no intention of talking. His lips curled in a sneer. “We’ll give you a merciful quick drop and a sudden stop, but we’ll leave you in one piece.” She would face a far worse fate if the man learned she was a woman. It was always worse for women. always“I think I’ll keep my mouth shut, thank you very much, Cap’n.” She turned her back on him. “You’ll change your mind soon enough.” His words echoed as he left her alone. She stared out the window and recognized with creeping dread what she’d failed to see earlier while she was testing the bars. A gallows had been erected in the middle of the fort’s yard in clear view of all the jail cells. The empty noose swayed in the island breeze. Death and paradise had always been closely entwined in her life, but she’d never wanted them to be this close. thisBrianna shuddered. It was time to find a way out of this cell, or she’d need to convince them to hang her before they tortured her. She was not about to let them discover she was a woman. Far better to face that quick drop and sudden stop. Brianna curled her fingers around the bars and inhaled the scents of the island as she closed her eyes. Lord, she was suddenly homesick for her cabin on the Sea Serpent. She missed her father and her crew and the feeling of the breeze against her skin, unspoiled by the smells of a city or prison yard. She opened her mouth and sang a song her father had taught her when she was but a wee child as she watched the noose swing. Sea Serpent“Come all you young sailormen, listen to me, “Come all you young sailormen, listen to me,I’ll sing you a song of the fish in the sea, I’ll sing you a song of the fish in the sea,And it’s windy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys, And it’s windy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys,When the wind blows, we’re all together, boys.” When the wind blows, we’re all together, boys.”