Tears of the Caribbean

***

There is nothing like the dawning of a new day in the Caribbean. Beautifully colored tropical birds sang with appreciation as the sun rose from the depths of the sea. Gulls called the cadence for sweat burdened brows of working men toiling in paradise.

Since the captain didn't spend the night with her, Asha figured she'd find him in bed with his new whore. She was surprised to see the pretty Spaniard sleeping alone. "Wake up," she yelled. "The captain said you're to be my helper so get dressed and come out to the kitchen."

It took a minute for the Marquesa to get herself oriented. She cried most of the night thinking captain Hawkins would come in and rape her at some point but it never happened. It must have been around two or three in the morning before she finally fell asleep. Her eyes were still red and puffy and her nose was stuffed up from the crying.

She staggered out of bed still dress in the only remnant left of her former life. Between her intervals of blubbering through the night, she had come to a rationalization; as terrible as it was, she had two choices, submit or die. She was too young to die so she would submit with the hope that she would be rescued one day.

She checked the wardrobe closet and found her new attire. They were little more than rags and they certainly wouldn't cover enough to be worthy of a respectable woman. Again, her choices were extremely limited. She looked back to make sure the door was closed, then with a red face, got undressed. She went through what there was and picked a tattered dress that must have been worn by a commoner larger than herself. It drew a chuckle from the captain who was sitting at the table when she entered the kitchen.

"Sleep well?"

"Not really," she replied. He didn't look like such a bad man sitting there. She had to try one more time. "I...please--you have to let me go. They...they say you're a fair man. Is it fair that you hold me here against my will? Is it fair that you deprive me of my husband? Is it f..."

"Enough," he said, angrily hitting the table with the side of his fist. "Had you not screamed when you did we would have never known you were even aboard. It is fate that you are here and it is your fate that you will remain on this island with me. Now let that be the end of it," he said, scowling at her. "Asha will show you what chores she wants done and I don't expect any trouble from you. Remember where you'd be right now if it wasn't for me."

Defiantly, she stared at her captor with hate and maybe a little fear. "I would have been better off," she sneered at him.

He remained stoic but the words hit him like a dagger in the heart. She did not hide her hatred as he looked at her. In part it was that passion that drew her to him, that and her undisputable beauty. If only he can somehow turn that hate into love... The pain behind his expression was imperceptible. He was at a loss for words and figured it was better to extricate himself before saying something stupid. "I have work to do," he snapped as he rose from the table. He heard her start crying again as he left the room.

Asha was not without empathy. She also missed her man. The last she saw of her brave husband he was valiantly fighting against overwhelming odds to save her. She had no idea if he survived or was possibly taken as a slave by one of the other ships.

She sat down opposite the pretty Spaniard who still hadn't stopped crying. "Please, don't judge him too harshly, he's not a bad man, you know."

The Marquesa lifted her head and looked at the dark skinned woman. "How can you say that? He is holding me prisoner. I am a married woman and he expects me to be his whore, his slave."

"You are the spoils of war. He could have just executed you or given you to his men to pass around."

"War; what war?"

Asha looked at her with surprise. "Are you not aware that Spain is at war with England?"

"Oh, of course I know that, but what has he to do with England? He's a pirate!"

"Yes, he's a pirate but still very loyal to King Charles. He sends half of everything he captures, back to his homeland; some goes directly to his son."

"His son; he has a son?"

"Yes. I don't know the whole story but he was married and very much in love at one time. He was serving in her majesty's navy and at sea when she got the Black Death. By the time he got back she was dead."

"Then why is he not back in England with his son?"

"The boy was very young and couldn't understand why his father was away and didn't save his mother. He denounced the captain, said he hated him. Jack, the captain's first mate was there. He said it ripped Sir Guy's soul right out of his chest."

"Sir Guy? Who is Sir Guy?"

"That's the captain's real name. He was knighted by the king. I guess he just couldn't take losing his son and his wife together like that. He left England and came here to the islands."

"And his son is still in England?"

"Yes, he's being raised by his mother's sister. The captain gets a letter from them sometimes. Their last one said, now that the boy is older he understands his dad couldn't have saved his mother. He wants his dad to come back but he no longer can go back. He would most likely be hanged for piracy.

"So—he stays a pirate. Most of the time, he goes after merchant ships of any origin, except English of course; but when he sees Spanish colors flying atop a mast, he still fights for king and country."

His story didn't move her. "I don't care. I don't care how much of a patriot he is, I want to go to my husband."

Asha sighed. "If you were from any other country I'm sure he would accommodate you but the way he sees it, that would be aiding the enemy. He considers you a prisoner of war and his property to do with as he pleases, just as if he'd won you in battle. He also likes you. I can see it in his eyes. I don't think he's going to give you up."

She could see the woman was about to break out in tears again. "You've got to stop that. It won't do you any good anyway. Now, take some breakfast for yourself but don't be long...what is your name, anyhow?"

"Ma...Camila," she answered.

"Okay, Camila; hurry up and eat, we have work to do."

Sir Guy was back in his sanctuary. He had been awake all night while his head and his heart where locked in battle. Pirate logic told him there was only one way to go; send word that they had captured the Marquesa and was holding her for ransom. It was very dangerous but he could pull it off if he really wanted to. The problem was that he felt he'd be ransoming part of his soul. Damn, he cursed himself. Why, after all these years, why did his heart suddenly open to the charms of a woman again...and why the enemy...someone who hated him?

That was another problem, how could he exchange her hate for love and not break her fiery passion in the process. Give her some time, possibly? Maybe after a few months she will no longer miss her husband. That would certainly free her up to love him. He had suffered the loss of one love, he couldn't bear the thought of losing another.

Maybe it was time to go back out to sea for a while. He could order his ship, the Devil's Mist, be prepared to set sail. A small smile stretched across his face. The more he thought of it the more he felt it was a good idea. Being separated from the wench would also give him time to think more clearly, as for his men, the sea was their home not the island; they would be raring to go. He set out in search of his first mate.

"Jack!"

"Yes, captain."

"I think it's time we set sail, what do you think?"

A big smile stretched across Jack's scarred face. "I think that's a great idea, captain. The men are getting restless. Raiding that galleon yesterday was just enough to wet their whistle for action."

That was music to his ears. "Good; get the men together and load up the Devil's Mist with a month's worth of rations. We leave at high tide."

"YES, SIR," he enthusiastically replied.

Sir Guy felt much better on his way back to his castle. If nothing else she would be out of his sight.

Camila was relieved when he announced they would be departing that evening at high tide. At least she didn't have to worry about him raping her—not yet anyway. It still didn't give her anymore hope for getting off the island though.

She heard him tell Asha they would be gone a month, maybe longer. By that time her husband would surely know she was missing. Maybe they would come to rescue her before the pirates got back. It at least gave her hope.

All day long the captain helped his men as they paraded back and forth to the hidden, Pirate's Cove, home of the Devil's Mist. Fresh fruit was loaded along with hardtack, spices, salted beef, vegetables, nets for fishing, and plenty of ale.

It was almost sundown by the time everything was loaded; just enough time for the men to go to their homes for dinner and to fuck their women one last time for a while.

The sea was a dangerous place. The captain would have given anything to make love to his Spanish beauty before he left but he knew it would just inflame her hatred toward him and he didn't want to leave with that on his mind—so, he settled for his old standby Asha, instead.

As a loyal subject of his majesty's, the scrupulous Englishman cut a smart looking figure as he stood atop the quarterdeck with his bullhorn. His full hundred and eighty man crew took to their posts, readying to get underway as they heard the first command. "Lay aloft and loose all sails."

The gathering onlookers from shore watched as the men scampered up the ship's rigging and untied the sails. Large sheets of white canvas were lowered on the three towering masts with the next order, "Lower topsails!"

The men could feel the frigate's deck under their feet anxiously straining to get underway.

"Starboard fore braces," the captain called; "Port main and mizzen braces. Brace up fore and aft."

He smiled at the rumbling sounds of the braces racing through the blocks. "Weigh anchor," called the captain and immediately men jumped to the winch while others helped with anchor irons. Soon the enormous mass of iron crested the water's surface, freeing the proud lady from her moorings. "Hoist outer jib," was called and giant sheets of canvas rustled and billowed as they filled with the breath of Eurus. "Haul out the spanker!"

With Jack at the helm the craft was deftly navigated through the narrow straights of the hidden cove and into open water.

"Full canvas," was ordered and you could almost see the hull of the majestic ship bursting with pride as the rest of her sails swelled with tropical winds. A pale yellow moon lay dead ahead.

With mixed emotions, the men waved to the ones they left behind; among them were Asha and her new Spanish friend. Strangely, even with the hate she had in her soul, Camila found herself wishing the bastard a safe return as she watched him disappear into the night.

***

As the days and nights passed, the Marquis'' grew increasingly more worried. Every day he spent hours on the shore, looking through his spyglass for the San Cristabol. She was more than a week past due when he spotted a ship on the horizon flying a Spanish flag. It didn't look like the San Cristabol but he thought maybe they had trouble and his wife was put aboard the next ship leaving, which appeared to be the one that would soon be entering the harbor. His heart started to pound with terrified anticipation. She had to be on that ship, he prayed, she just had to be.

He ran back to the fort and joined the revelry of the building crowd. On the ship would be letters from loved ones back home as well as some loved ones themselves. As he ran down to the water's edge he found Juan with a long boat and crew.

"I knew you'd want to get out and greet her as soon as she was in sight, Diego."

"Juan, what would I ever do without you?" he acclaimed.

The Marquis' jumped in the boat as Juan and some others ran it out to deeper water before jumping in themselves. In unison, eight oars reached over the sides and pulled the small vessel closer to his prayers, one stroke at a time.

As they got closer they passed the first two boats departing the ship. Juan noticed the worried look of his friend deepened when he saw the Marquesa wasn't on either one of them. Her status as royalty would have dictated she be one of the first to disembark.

As the smaller boat came along side its big brother, the Marquis' scurried up Jacob's ladder to the top deck and found the captain.

"Captain, captain, I am the Marquis' Aritza. Is the Marquesa aboard?"

The captain was a busy man. They had a ship full of supplies to unload but the man's title and the worry in his voice made him stop and talk. "No, Marquis' Aritza, she set sail on the San Cristabol. They left several days before us. It has not arrived yet?"

Juan laid his hand on his friend's shoulder as the Marquis' bowed his head. "No, there has been no sign of it."

"A few days after leaving port we sighted a terrible storm southwest of our position. It was too far away to give us a problem but it's possible the San Cristabol got caught up in it and was blown off course. She may of had to take refuge in one of the islands."

If the captain was trying to comfort him he wasn't doing a very good job. Terror shot through his soul as he thought of the possible consequences of what the captain said. "Some of those islands are riddled with pirates," he told Juan. "We...we have to get a search party together. We have to go look for her." He looked back to the captain. "Can you help us?"

"I'm sorry but I cannot, Marquis'. I stay as far away from those islands as I can. Besides, my orders are to get back to Spain as soon as we can. They come directly from the king. My ship is to be fitted with more cannons and sent to war upon my return.

"Diego, we have ships and men right here in St. Augustine who will join the search for your wife. Don't worry," Juan told him, "we'll find her and bring her home. Even if the pirates have her they wouldn't dare harm a Marquesa. She's worth too much in exchange for ransom. I'm sure she's fine."

Diego wasn't convinced but he had to force himself to believe his friend; either that or die of a broken heart.

It took three days for Diego and Juan to launch a search party together. Once they were an hour out of port and could no longer be seen from the shore they lowered the Spanish colors. They were a crew of eighty on small boat with few cannons. They would be no match for any group of pirates they encountered so it didn't make sense to antagonize anyone.

Their plan was to hit various ports and see if they could gather any information on what might have happened to the San Cristabol or the Marquesa.

***

The quiet coolness of the night abdicated to the rising golden sun. The stillness of the heavy fog was just starting to lift as the bow of the Devil's Mist cut through the aqua waters. The ship had been out for better than two weeks and had just spotted their third quarry, a German merchant returning home from the Virginias in the new world. It would be loaded with tobacco, rum, clothes, and precious stones.

"Ahoy, sail ho," the spotter yelled down from the crow's nest. "Tell the captain we have a German merchant off the port stern."

He got a wave from one of the men who immediately headed for the captain's quarters to inform him. Captain Hawkins climbed the stairs to the top of the stern and looked through his telescope. A smile crossed his face as he considered the weighted down vessel easy pickings. Oh they'll raise every sail they have in an attempt to run but they were no match for the Devil's Mist, even if they started dumping some of their cargo.

"Raise friendly colors," he shouted. "Let's see how close we can get before they start throwing everything overboard."

A couple of the men looked through the multitude of captured flags and raised one they found of Portuguese origin. Rather than head directly toward their target they set a course that pulled them closer while appearing to maintain a parallel route. It almost worked too, but someone on board the other ship was obviously paying attention. Suddenly they changed course.

"Full canvas, men," barked the captain. All hands immediately went into action raising every sail they had. "Jack," he called to his first mate who was on the helm. "Aim our bow directly at them; let's take her quickly."

"Aye, aye, Captain," he responded while spinning the wheel hard to the left.

The Devil's Mist, a former French slave ship, was built for speed and took no time to close the gap between the two ships.

"Open all gun ports and ready artillery," hollered Sir Guy. "Let'em see what they're up against, and hoist the jolly roger; might as well put the fear of the Gods in them." He picked up his megaphone. "Ah-hoy there, Acheron! This is captain Hawkins of the Devil's Mist, heave to and prepare to be boarded," he announced. "Lay down your arms and you will not be hurt."

The German captain had only one decision to make, fight or surrender. He had not only his own life to think of but those of his men as well. The pirate's vessel was faster, carried more men, and had three times the number of guns. "Lay down your arms, men. It would be folly to fight."

Captain Hawkins breathed a sigh of relief when he saw them lay their weapons in the center of the boat then back away. He took no pleasure in killing those with whom he was not at war. He would have given them no such mercy if they had flown Spanish colors but he had no beef with the Germans.

As the two ships came side by side Sir Guy called out to lower the sheets and prepare to board the Acheron. While the German crew stood helplessly by, the pirates threw grappling hooks over the gunwale of the merchant craft and drew it in close. When he and his men climbed aboard, captain Hawkins assured the Germans they would not be harmed and that he would leave them with enough rations to make it home, then ordered his men to start loading their bounty onto the Devil's Mist.

They had only about half of what they intended to take when off in the distance they heard cannon fire. The volley fell short of the pirate ship but it was still too close for comfort. "Where the hell did that come from?" hollered the captain.

"SAIL HO! There, Sir, off the starboard bow," yelled the lookout from the crow's nest.

Captain Hawkins watched in horror as the massive English man of war slowly materialized from the rolling fog. He looked up at the top of his main mast. "Shit, we're still flying the jolly roger," he whispered to himself. "Leave everything else, men, everybody aboard the Mist," he commanded.

When the pirates turned their backs to scurry aboard their own vessel, the Germans rushed for their weapons. Shots rang out and sabers clanked together as several of the captain's men were injured. The man of war was getting closer and now the pirates had to fight their way off the merchant craft.

The smell of gun powder permeated the air as the pirates that remained on board their own ship fired into the Germans. With several of their men dead or wounded, the Germans fell back giving the captain and his men time to make a hasty retreat.

As usual, the captain was the last man to withdraw. Just as he reached his ship one last shot rang out from the Germans and a steal ball tore through the flesh of the captain's back. Immediately he fell to the deck, rolling in pain. The last thing he remembered before blacking out was looking through the gun-smoke at the Jolly Roger flying overhead.

There was no time for revenge. The pirates cut the Devil's Mist free of the German ship as Jack took over in the captain's absence, barking out orders.

"Full canvas; come about, hard left rudder as soon as we're clear of the merchant." Putting the merchant vessel between them and the man of war would give them a little cushion.