The Pirate Raiders Read online

  “Aye,” he smiled. “But just don’t forget that she and I share a common interest as well, and that is we both want to wear this ring.”

  “Why can’t we just go into my cabin and talk this out like men?” I offered, trying desperately to get close to the chest of rum.

  Trimble shook his head and smiled his evil grin yet again. “Because, I do not negotiate with any one, at any time. That’s not going to change today either.”

  At that moment he raised his arm and whispered a command under his breath. There was nothing I could do but watch in horror as the kraken contracted its tentacles around the Jane in a sickening manner that imploded the ship in mere seconds. I heard the wails of the crew all I could think of was Ricardo as I watched the scene unfold. It happened so quickly I never even got a glimpse of my friend as the ship disintegrated and sank into the blue waters below. The ocean seemed to boil as the kraken wretched underwater.

  I lunged at Captain Trimble but was quickly restrained by one of his men from behind. All of my unarmed men were suddenly overtaken by Trimble’s men and I now feared I’d made a grave mistake in trying to negotiate with the mad man. All of us were then bound with rope, our hands tied behind our backs. During this time I noticed Andrea had disappeared, only to reappear out of my cabin minutes later.

  “Father, I believe I have something that may interest you,” she said, holding one of the bottles of rum over her head.

  I could tell the bottle was from within the chest, but there was something different about it. After staring at it a moment I concluded that it was the label that was different. It had a red border around the edges and the other bottles did not. I cursed myself for not looking at all the bottles before being so quick to dismiss the significance of the chests’ contents. There clearly was a great deal of significance with this particular bottle because it was apparent to everyone on the ship that it had gotten Captain Trimble’s attention.

  “How did you get that, child?” he asked, concern in his voice.

  “That doesn’t matter,” she replied. “What matters is I know what is in this bottle and I know what it can do to you!”

  Now I was getting angry as it seemed that Andrea knew exactly what the significance was with the bottles of rum all along but just lied to us about it from the beginning.

  “Hand it over, child,” Trimble commanded.

  “I will hand it over when you give me the ring,” she replied.

  With the fact that she lied to me aside, it still seemed to me that Andrea was using the bottle of rum as a “bargaining chip” just as we’d always planned. However, part of me kept considering what Trimble had said about her wanting the ring for herself. The way she was now trying to orchestrate a trade for the ring made me nervous. I’d wondered all along if I could trust her, and now it seemed I was on the verge of finding out for sure.

  “You are in no position to negotiate with me,” Trimble shot back. “I think I just showed you that negotiation is not something I’m willing to do, now—

  Andrea suddenly made a motion, as if she were about to shatter the bottle on the deck. The movement cut Trimble’s words off immediately and it was now extremely evident that whatever was in the bottle meant a great deal to him.

  “I’m not negotiating,” Andrea said as she stopped short of releasing the bottle. “I’m making a demand. You trade me the ring for the bottle and we both go our separate ways.”

  Trimble stared at her blankly for a moment and then stroked the stubble on the right side of his chin. I could tell he was giving some serious thought to what his daughter had said before making his next more. Finally, he said, “My dear, you hang on to that bottle and come join me on my ship. I’m sure we’ll find a way to resolve this matter so that we can both get what we want.”

  “I will do no such thing,” she answered.

  I could see the anger in Captain Trimble building to the point that he would kill his daughter if given the chance. The feud between father and daughter had about reached its breaking point when something unexpected suddenly occurred.

  “Captain Trimble!” a familiar voice rang out from among my own crew. I recognized the voice and I instantly tensed up. It was the voice of Robert Lynch and I feared the only thing on his mind right now was avenging the death of his father. I knew that this was not the right time, but telling him that was pointless. All he’d ever wanted was his chance to kill Captain Winston Trimble and now he could see that it was within his grasp.

  "Who dares interrupt a squabble between my daughter and me?" Trimble snapped loudly.

  “It was me you filthy bilge rat,” Robert spat from within the crowd of men on the waist.

  “Step forward and show yourself, lad,” Trimble replied. He hurried toward the railing and looked down upon the men. He gazed back and forth until Robert finally emerged out of the crowd, his hands tied behind his back like the rest of my crew.

  Trimble smiled that evil grin again and urged the boy to come onto the quarterdeck. Robert hurriedly did and he immediately stood toe to toe with the man he’d wanted to kill for years. The two of them were of the same height, but Trimble had a weight advantage on the much younger man.

  “You killed my father,” Robert spat with fury. “Remove my bonds and fight me like a man so that I may show you the justice you deserve.”

  Trimble chuckled and returned his dagger to its sheath. He placed both hands on Robert’s shoulders and looked him square in the eyes.

  “What was your father’s name boy?”

  “His name was Nicholas, Nicholas Lynch,” he replied. “He was just a merchant captain and you murdered him for no good reason, just as you murder everyone else. Take these bonds off and give me the chance to avenge his death.”

  “Nicholas Lynch you say,” Trimble thought. “I’m trying to remember boy, but it’s not coming to mind at the moment. But it doesn’t bloody matter.”

  He spun Robert around backwards and cut his bonds loose with his cutlass.

  “Someone give this lad a sword, I have a reputation to keep up here.”

  A sword was thrown to Robert and my young boatswain immediately went to work on the most feared pirate captain of the seas. When the battle began I must confess that I swelled with pride as I watched Robert masterfully trade steel with such a skilled swordsman as Trimble. He held his own with the much older and experienced pirate and as the two danced their battle to the death, for a fleeting moment I believed Robert would defeat him. Unfortunately Robert made the mistake too many others before him made. He made the same mistake that allowed me to defeat Augustus Flynn. Robert’s rage took full control and as he grew tired, so too did his swordsmanship grow sloppy. He managed to make contact with Trimble’s left shoulder, and the old pirate began bleeding. What Robert didn’t know, or had forgotten, was that Trimble had no feeling on the entire left side of his body. The cut was unnoticed by him but Robert, on the other hand, relaxed for the briefest of moments when he saw that blood. It was then that Trimble lunged forward and pierced his cold steel into Robert’s chest.

  I screamed what must’ve been a thousand curses, and I could hear other members of my crew doing the same. All around me I could see that my men were trying to break free from their bonds, to take up their swords and fight this crew of wicked swabs to the death. All of our curses and struggles only made our captors tighten our restraints further and in mere moments we were all forced silent yet again. I watched through tears as Trimble jerked his sword free from Robert, the blade coated in crimson blood. He then kicked the young man to the ground. The old pirate knelt down and spoke to Robert as he died.

  “Young man, as we were fighting I must confess I began to remember your father. You should know that he was a blubbering fool when he died, and what’s worse is that the coward didn’t die by my hand as you’ve been apparently misled to believe. He died at the hand of a woman.”

  I felt my heart begin to race as I feared what Trimble was about to say. I could see the confusion, pain, and
disgust all over Robert’s face.

  “She’s the one that killed your bloody father as he begged for his life,” Trimble said, pointing to Andrea. “She’s just as cold blooded as I am you blithering fool, if not more so. Do you all truly believe she cares about you?”

  I glared over at Andrea and she was already looking at me. Her face had turned white.

  “It’s not true,” she whispered.

  Chapter 17 :

  Once again I was torn on whether or not I could trust Andrea. Captain Trimble could’ve been playing some sort of sick mind game with me and my crew. But then again, Andrea lied about what she knew about the chest full of rum. My thoughts didn’t dwell on Andrea for very long as I tearfully watched Robert draw his last breath and die. He continued to clutch his cutlass so tightly that Trimble’s men didn’t even bother removing it before they rolled him over the side.

  “Get the plank ready,” Trimble commanded.

  His men did as they were told and I watched as the old pirate marched in my direction. He grabbed the bonds around my wrists and led me toward the plank. I took a step and then glanced back at him just in time to see him draw his sword.

  “You know what to do, let’s get on with it,” he barked.

  I took a few more steps forward and looked into the sea below me. The water directly below was already pink from Robert’s wound and I knew it would not be long before the water was teeming with sharks.

  “You have the power to stop this, my dear,” Trimble called out to Andrea. “Give me the bottle of rum and I’ll reconsider killing you and your friend right now.”

  I knew in my heart it was a lie. He had not done a single thing since I’d met him to indicate to me he had a shred of mercy in him at all. I wanted to scream to Andrea to refuse his offer. If I knew the man was lying, surely she did as well.

  “You’re lying,” she said. “I’ll give you this bottle and then you’ll kill me.”

  “Aye, I could be lying,” he replied. “But maybe I’m not. If you don’t give me that bottle you’ll never know.” He jabbed the tip of his sword in my back and now the toes of my boots were hanging over the edge of the plank.

  “Okay, father, take it,” she shouted. “But please do not kill anyone else.”

  He held out his hand. “Bring me the bottle.”

  Andrea stepped forward and immediately handed over the bottle.

  “Very good dear,” he said as he clutched it tightly. Then he pushed his sword deeper into my back. As I felt the blade pierce into my shoulder, I no longer had a choice in the matter, I had to jump.

  I managed to plunge into the ocean feet first. I used every shred of energy in me to swim back to the surface for a gulp of air. I looked up at the ship towering over me and did not know if I should be pleased or dismayed that no one was looking down at me. I suppose my situation looked pretty dire and there was no reason to pay me any more attention. I could see that the water was quite red all around me, and I knew now that the wound in my back was bleeding pretty heavily. The thought of the sharks that were undoubtedly on the way sent a shiver down my spine. It was extremely difficult to tread water with my hands tied behind my back and I knew in a few more minutes I was going to drown. By then it wouldn’t matter if the sharks made a bloody meal out of me. I’d never know it. I desperately tried to think of a solution to my problem and just as I was about to give up, a possible solution popped into my head. I could see land all around me. Maybe, just maybe, the water would be shallow enough.

  I took in a large gulp of air and immediately began swimming toward the sandy bottom. The water began to get noticeably colder and the light from above grew dimmer the deeper I went. My ears began to hurt, but I kept swimming downward as hard as I could. I finally caught sight of the sandy bottom and fortunately there was just enough light down there to be able to see. I looked in my general vicinity for the body of Robert Lynch. After scanning the area around me for a moment I finally spotted him, his cutlass still clutched tightly in his hand. I swam over to him and immediately backed my bonds to the sharp blade of his sword. After a moment of sliding my wrists up and down I felt the rope loosen and finally break free. With my lungs almost out of air I began swimming upward as fast as I could. My chest ached and my lungs begged me to take a sweet gulp of fresh air. I clenched my teeth and kept ascending as quickly as possible. I began to feel as if I were going to pass out and shortly after that, I welcomed the idea of passing out. It would’ve been better than drowning. It seemed that the world around me began to darken again instead of get brighter as I approached the surface. I briefly feared that I was sinking again but then I realized I was on the verge of passing out. Just as my lungs felt as if they were going to explode out of my chest, I broke through the surface of the ocean. It was a painful feeling, but I sucked in the largest gulp of air I’d ever inhaled in my life. It took a moment but I finally began to get my breath back and feel normal again. Actually, I felt anything but normal. I’d never felt so alive in all my life.

  Unfortunately the feeling was short-lived. I spotted something dark out of the corner of my eye lumbering just below the surface of the water. Then I saw the terrifying dorsal fin of the shark as it swirled around me in circles. The shark must have swum around me at least five times before it decided to try and take a bite. It lunged at me, but the beast had given me plenty of time to prepare. I had pulled my dagger from my belt and wasted no time burying the weapon all the way to the hilt in to the top of the animals head. There was very little blood, but it was effective enough. The shark thrashed for a brief moment before slowly turning upside down. It was dead, and once again I’d cheated death. I shuddered when I wondered just how many more times I was going to accomplish that feat.

  I swam around to the side of the ship where the anchor was dropped. As tired as I was, I was so eager to get out of the water that climbing the rope was a surprisingly easy chore. When I reached the railing I carefully peeked onto the poop deck for any signs of Trimble’s men. There were none there and as I glanced at the other two decks, it seemed that Trimble and his men had already left the ship. I could see most of my men lying on the waist, and still struggling to get free of their bonds. I peered over to the other side of the ship and could see that the Sea Witch was already beginning to pull away. I crawled closer for a better look, still trying desperately to stay hidden. There were several oars protruding from either side of the ship and it was obvious that Trimble was trying to make a fast escape. I suddenly had a bad feeling.

  I rushed down the stairs off the poop deck and found Jolly Jack Porter struggling to get free. When he saw me he looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

  “Cap’n!” he shouted, immediately drawing the rest of the crew’s attention.

  All of the men began to shout and rejoice at the sight of me. I knelt down to free Jack.

  “No, Cap’n, there’s no bloody time!”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, and it was at that moment I saw what Jolly Jack was referring to. A lit lantern was dangling from a rope off the poop deck railing. Underneath the lantern, a long line of black gun powder began and continued down the stairs below deck, no doubt ending where our armory, shot locker, and of course gun powder storage was found. The rope that held the lit lantern had been soaked in oil and was on fire. It was an ingenious and cruel design to allow Trimble time to escape the blast. As soon as I’d pieced together what was going on, the rope burned in two and the burning lantern shattered on top of the line of powder. It immediately ignited and began burning rapidly toward the stairs below deck. I sprang after it, and in my haste, I tripped as soon as I started. I scrambled back to my feet just in time to see the flame disappear down the stairs. I chased after it and finally caught up to it below deck. I quickly rubbed my foot through the powder line creating a gap at which point the fire extinguished. As I breathed a sigh of relief, I looked toward the armory and was shocked to see Andrea buried up to her neck in an open barrel of gun powder. She was sitting exactly whe
re the line of powder ended. She was crying and her blonde locks dangled wildly in front of her face.

  “You should’ve let me die,” she said through the sobs.

  “If it weren’t for my ship and crew I probably would have,” I growled at her. “I’m beginning to think that you haven’t been completely honest with me.”

  She shook her head. “It’s true, I haven’t been totally honest. I’m not the person I used to be, you have to believe that.”

  “I want the truth about Robert’s father. Was the person you used to be the same person that killed him?”

  She looked away from me and the tears began to flow again. “Yes,” she said softly. “Yes, I killed him. I’ve killed lots and lots of men. I did what I had to do to survive and get along with my father. But I’m telling you I’m a changed woman. I’m not like that anymore!”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I believe you.” I helped her get out of the barrel and then led her immediately to the brig. She continued to beg and plead with me to believe her all the way. She even tried to remind me or our interlude from the night before in a pathetic attempt to sway me. It didn’t work. I was just about to leave her behind and start freeing my crew when she finally did say something that got my attention.

  “I gave my father the wrong bottle of rum,” she said. “I mean, the bottle is right, but the contents aren’t. I switched two of the bottles around. He doesn’t have the right one.”

  “You better speak real bloody fast, honey. Because Trimble has probably just now realized that this ship hasn’t exploded. He’s going to come back and this time he’s probably going to unleash the kraken on us. Tell me what is so significant about those bottles of rum. Why are they so important to him?”

  “Because one of them contains an eye,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “An eye?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Well, actually it’s one of his eyes. The eye he lost…the reason he wears the eye patch.”