Taylor dashed into the forest of the island on her arrival, but it wasn’t long before she was certain to have given any pursuers the slip.

She walked lightly, but the strange land around her drew her attention.

Taylor fixed the front of her shirt as best she could, as she trekked through the marshy island. She was up to her ankles in water, but the willows and trees completely hid her from the world. Now and there were skirts of open sandy ground, but she skirted around those, still aware of the danger now dogging her footsteps.

The two hills shone vividly in the sun, as if they were painted with gemstones. It was a beautiful sight, the kind to inspire an artist to trek halfway around the world to capture it. If only time might afford, she would strongly consider it herself.

Despite the heavy anxiety, she really was beginning to enjoy herself. The isle seemed completely uninhabited, and she’d left the dumb brutes long behind. She could flit and flutter from tree to tree. She was captivated by flowers she’d never seen before.

Here and there she saw a snake or two. They’d raise their head to hiss at her, and she’d respect their space. A few of them made a strange rattling noise, which she’d never heard an animal make before. Fascinating, but she kept her distance all the same.

She came to a ticket of oaklike trees, growing low to the sand like brambles, but with boughs twisted and the foliage thick. The things felt like natural walls, spreading out from the nearest of the little rivers flowing towards the anchorage.

Taylor clacked her teeth together hard enough to hurt as the bushes rustled, before a wild duck burst out and into the air. It circled over her once or twice and then headed off.

She winced, knowing the damnable thing would have given away her position. No more time to enjoy the strangeness of this new world.

It wasn’t long after that she began to hear the distant and low tones of a male voice. Pausing and holding her breath, Taylor’s fears were realised as the voice grew steadily louder. Nearer.

Looking around and figuring that the thicker brush would slow her, Taylor did what had saved her by the inn. She made for the nearest dark space, and hid herself away.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

In the cover of the nearest oak, beneath the shade and in the dark of the bush, she looked out with barely a breath, let alone a sound.

She heard a second voice reply to the first. The two argued back and forth loudly. Taylor couldn’t make out the words, but she could make out who it was. One of the voice’s was her Vernon. A man who probably felt rather betrayed by her, now.

She hadn’t really betrayed anyone… But convincing the man before he produced a pistol? She wasn’t sure she trusted herself to do that.

The second voice was that of Israel. He sounded as angry as he ever had, if not more. Even without the words, she could tell that he was cussing as clear as any sailor ever dared had.

Steadily, the voices quietened, and then seemed to stop altogether. The birds around Taylor settled in place, which seemed to suggest that the men were either gone or hunkering down. Resting, maybe.

Taylor hated to admit it, but she needed to hear them. She hadn’t escaped by getting to the island. She’d only prolonged her fate, unless she took advantage.

Moving slowly, quietly, so as not to disturb a single bird or rat, she moved towards where she’d last heard the voices. It didn’t take her very long to find two men sitting down among the marsh, face-to-face in conversation.

Vernon was looking beat with the heat, and speaking to the other. “I don’t be knowin’ what happened on that ship. The way everyone turned against the cap’n! Why, that never be happenin’!”

The colour drained from Taylor’s face as she realised Vernon was talking to one of the sailors who wasn’t a pirate. An honest man, separated off from the rest.

The other man tossed his hands up, “The fook it be, Edward! The fook! They done shot cap’n. Shot him dead! How we be out of this?”

“Oh, we do our best.” Vernon nodded grimly, “I know a thing or two, and we find a way. Other ship does anchor here, now and again. I known it, so another will. You and I will make it safe.”

The other man shook his head, “Nah. Nah be it! Cannae be! Pirates done hung us, like we hung ’em! Damn bells, I got a gal back home!”

He didn’t get another word, as the pistol that Edward had been easing out of its holster, fired. The other man dropped to the ground, his face thankfully out of sight.

Vernon shook his head sadly, “I didnae want it, lad. I thought gold might twist your thinking. Damned shame.”

Taylor felt sick to the pit of her stomach.

Thought took flight, and she acted in pure instinct. Turning and running as fear grew and grew. It was a frenzy to her mind, and she was completely lost. She no longer thought that there was a single mercy to Vernon. If he found her, she was dead.

The other crew were even less likely to spare her. Some would gladly wring her neck. By hell’s gates, the doctor and squire had probably joined the captain. All of them dead.

All that was left for her was death by the hands of the mutineers, or death by starvation.

She ran without a single thought of where, suddenly finding herself close a small hill between the two peaks, where the oaks were less dense. Mingled among them were a few pines, tall and proud.

The air smelt more fresh than down in the marsh, but any hope that might bring was immediately killed.

Taylor stumbled to a standstill, staring.