She stared as the side of the hill seemed to just about explode. A distant figure, like a bear, bursting out and scattering gravel in every direction.
She saw it move from the ground, to the trees. Leaping from branch to branch, until it landed in a particular pine and a chill ran down her spin as she realised the thing was watching her.
Pirates behind, monster ahead.
The danger she knew, the one that she might convince was still in love with her, seemed infinitely preferable to whatever hellspawn had now crossed her tracks.
Taylor spun on her heel, and with more than one or two looks over her shoulder, began to retrace her steps in the direction of the landing.
Her stomach dropped as the creature responded. It moved from tree to tree, widely circling, and plainly looking to head her off. She was being clearly hunted, and had no advantage that she could think of.
It moved faster through the trees than she could across the ground. It had to be a human of some kind, but it really did seem more animal than man to her.
She winced as she dimly remembered sailors tales of distant cannibals. She had thought the tales of such local tribes to be nonsense, and overblown, but this thing was worse than most of them.
Taylor stopped, trying to think about how she could change the situation. She had no pistol, thanks to the captain who now lay dead. She had no real method of escape, it was faster than her.
She ticked her tongue angrily, and turned about face and began to walk briskly directly towards the island man.
The man must have been watching her, because he dropped from the trees, and began to walk towards her. As she began to near, the man stumbled over his feet, as if he was suddenly uncertain.
As she began to close the distance, he suddenly dropped to his knees and threw up his hands in a begging posture, “Pl-ease!”
Taylor hidden her utter shock, and tried to pretend she had a handle on the situation. She swallowed and spoke, “Who the hell are you?”
“Name? A name… I had a name… I… Gunn!”
“You have no pistol.” Taylor replied.
He shook his head, “No. It… It’s my name. I am Benny Gunn. Christ be blessed. I haven’t seen a civilised face in three very long years.”
His skin, wherever it was exposed from his rough and furred clothing, was burnt and cracked. His lips were black, and his eyes were strained and red. All the same, she did recognise something of a sailor in him. A marooned soul.
The animal skins were hung about with tatters of canvas and sea cloth, to reinforce it. The patchwork held together by fastening, brass buttons, and other traces of the world he had come from.
“Three years?” Taylor inquired, surprised anyone could live here that long. Praying that she wasn’t about to have to try.
“Aye. And marooned.” He said grimly, “Were not any shipwreck that put ol’ Benny here.”
Taylor weighed the situation in her mind, and the pursuing pirates. She didn’t really have time to pick and choose who to trust. This man didn’t know her, and she knew only he had committed some crime. Or not. Some captain’s were simply horrors.
“Three long years. Lived on goats and berries. Even found oysters, but they don’t sate the belly.” He continued, “Cheese though… God above, I would do anything for a taste of cheese. You wouldn’t have any, would you?”
Stolen novel; please report.
Taylor laughed at the surprising request, “No. But if we can get aboard, then you’ll have cheese by the stone.”
He stood up a little straighter, revealing just how much taller he was than her. His face going firm, “Who would hinder you?”
“Not you.” She said off-handedly.
“Aye.” He nodded and shrugged, “What do I call you, lass?”
Taylor winced. Nothing for it. If he could see it, then any could. She would just have to adjust to her new face. “Taylor.”
“Tay-lor. Taylor.” Ben smiled and nodded, “Well, now. I’ve been living as rough as rough. Ain’t no talk for a woman. You wouldn’t think me born by a pious mother, would ya?”
“No.” She shrugged.
Ben sighed, “I was, once. Remarkably pious. I were a member of the Young Men’s Christian Association and be it all. I served as a chaplin afor’ the mast ’n all. But Providence, she placed me here. A lonely island. Punish me for straying from the path. I am back to piety. No woman need fear herself by my side.”
Taylor instantly felt the very strong need to run. He might catch her, and she was fairly certain piety was not as first in his mind as he was making it out to be.
“You won’t catch me tasting the rum. Well, thimbleful, just for luck.” Ben continued, trying to appease her, “But… I’m rich.”
She needed a strong way to run. She did have a knife strapped to her hip, but she could see him seizing her arms before it was halfway out of the sheath. No gun for the Gunn. Damn the captain.
“I can make a real woman of you. A woman of high society. I am rich.” Benny’s eyes lit uncomfortably.
She braced herself to try and run, all the same. The man grabbed her wrist, feeling like an iron shackle. Pulling his face within half an inch of hers, “Now. Tell me true. Does that be Flint’s ship?”
“Flint…?” She said nervously, “No. No! Flint’s dead. Hung by the king. I swear it! The man is long dead. But… There are some of the bastard’s old crew on the ship. It’s why I ran.”
He let her go, and winced, “No… Not the man with the one leg, is it?”
“He goes by Edward Vernon.”
Benny shook his head, “Well, damn. It is probably him, then. If it is, and you came by him, then I’m good as pork.”
“Get me somewhere safe, out of the weather, and I’ll tell you the whole damnable tale.” She said urgently, listening out for the others.
Ben came to his senses and nodded, “Aye. Come along, lass. I’ve got a hole, over this way. Always a few around about the place. Can’t sit alone in the one place, too long.”
----------------------------------------
Taylor was more than a little surprised when the man led her beyond the edge of the wood, and towards a small fort, that had a Union Jack fluttering in the light breeze above it.
She had been expecting a hovel in the ground, or some wooden treehouse. Instead she was led towards the stonework, and the drawbridge was released by a mechanism hidden nearby.
Benny waved her across, before drawing it up again by a similar mechanism. That felt like a piece of finality. She was stuck here with the man, whether or not she wanted to trust him.
He took her to a room up top, where they could see anyone who might approach, before lighting a fire. The two sat beside it, and Taylor gave up and told him the whole sad tale of it all.
Strangely, the man actually did sit and listen to her. His wildness seemingly held under firm control by the man taught her to calm and be sweet to those who are suffering. There really was nothing about him that Taylor really understood.
“All said…” He began as she lapsed into silence, “None of this does sound of the good ’un. You find yourself in a right mess, young Taylor.”
She nodded glumly.
Ben shrugged, “I suppose it should be my turn? I were on Flint’s ship, when he buried the treasure. They went ashore for a week, with us all standing off and on the ship. Then one day, he come back, and none of the other six.”
Taylor couldn’t reconcile any kind of clergyman aboard Flint’s ship… But all sailors were superstitious. She wasn’t immune to it, either. The crew might have demanded someone pious, even if they were following one of Satan’s righthand men.
“All six, dead and buried by his hand alone. Vernon were the quartermaster. He cautioned me, but I didnae listen. I offered a prayer for the six lost souls. So Flint, he tossed me into the sea. Told me to go find them, and give ’em comfort.”
She couldn’t see the captain actually burying anyone. Dragging them somewhere that wasn’t the hidden spot, absolutely. However digging a grave is hard and heavy work. No captain would drop their pride long enough to do that.
“Well, I been here three years, I have. Years! And I -” He was interrupted by the sound of cannon fire.
Both of them ran to the window, as they felt the concussive boom in the air, staring in shock and surprise at a second ship out on the water. It wasn’t the Coronet, and it was flying a Union Jack.
“Bet they regret puttin’ up that flag.” Benny sniggered, looking at the black flag flying above the ship.
“They’re giving quarter. I doubt the soldiers will.” Taylor mused.