The first pistol shot was instantly followed by a dozen more volleys that left Taylor’s head ringing, but she didn’t have time to take notice. Laure had her by the wrist, and up a ladder, and into the thatch of the roof, before she even understood what was happening.
The two of them lay there, peering out into the dark. Laure’s fingers interlaced with her own, as Taylor watched in horror. The pirates weren’t exactly the smartest or hardest of buccaneers, and though she assumed the villagers had some fighting skills from a hard life, and a harder task master, they didn’t have the daily experience of the men bearing down on them.
Swords and bows they had aplenty, but the attackers had pistols, and gunpowder aplenty. The shots rang out, people went down screaming.
Whilst Taylor hid. And watched.
She knew it was all she could really do. She knew that Vernon was here for the treasure, and he only gave a damn for the treasure, and there was little to nothing that her coming forth would do.
She could pretend to be his special bride, and pretend to side with the pirates. Maybe that could let her influence the damage, hold back some of the fire. But in the end… She would die. They would probably die.
Vernon would order the ship to fire on the village, before leaving with his loot.
That was… If the strange chest in the caverns actually contained any loot. Taylor’s stomach dropped as she realised it had probably been a trap, considering the man who had obtained said treasure was living here on the island.
Had been living on the island.
She looked to the woman beside her, and squeezed her hand reassuringly. That Laure’s eyes were trained on the fallen body of the man was no surprise. Her father was gone. A man who had created an entire world just for her.
Taylor felt the guilt creeping in. She was the reason that her bride was suffering, right at this moment. The mighty and terrifying man, struck down because an idiotic bartender from England had thought it a fun adventure to go looking for gold.
“I’m as cursed as it is.” She whispered to herself.
Laure turned her head, and smiled sadly, “Reste ici. Stay.”
Then the woman pulled her hand away, and Taylor blinked and rubbed her eyes. Her bride had instantly disappeared. Just faded away into nowhere. The heart in Taylor’s throat told her that she might just believe in ghosts.
Had she found the haunted remnants of Flint’s last wishes on the world…?
She shuddered and hunkered down, looking out at the village, and hoping that no one decided to try and burn it.
----------------------------------------
Taylor was shivering, cold, and wishing that she could see a way out of the village. She also wished she knew just where the devil that Laure had gone, or even how, so that she could follow.
Instead, she was lying in the roof, as Vernon yelled at his men below, throwing things and pushing any man who so much as breathed too loudly. The peaceable and laughing cook was nowhere to be seen.
One of the men stalked up to Vernon, waving his pistol threateningly, “You said she’d be here! She has the key, don’t she?!”
Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
Vernon sneered, “Don’t be threatening me, Israel! I be cap’n, and you be mate. That girl, is something we be needin’, and she is here. Somewhere.”
“You trust Benny, the man we abandoned to die here, more than your first mate.” Israel scoffed. “You ain’t no cap’n.”
Vernon knocked the pistol aside and used his free hand to grab Israel by the collar, hauling him off his feet, “Which one of us be killin’ Flint, eh? You got the balls, lad? Or you worth dyin’?”
He shoved him backwards, and Israel fell off his feet, hitting the ground and looking up. The downed man leapt to his feet immediately, “Flint’s treasure ain’t here. No key for the chest down in them caves. You ain’t led us nowhere, Cap’n Cook!”
Taylor flinched as she heard a pistol shot, and then stared as it was Vernon, not Israel, who fell to the ground.
The second man spun his pistol and glared around, “Anybody got no problem with that?”
The pirates suddenly found the ground rather interesting.
Israel nodded, “Good. Burn this place to the fuckin’ ground! We’ll find that bitchin’ rat.”
Taylor moved straightaway. She knew that meant she might lose her wife, but she didn’t have a chance if they were going to light her hut on fire. She crawled backwards, and looked down from her position near the roof.
There was already a singular pirate, poking about the room and looking for something to steal. He wasn’t about to burn it down, at least, not just yet.
Taylor came crashing down on top of the man, toppling them both to the ground. Her elbow quickly slammed into his throat, causing him to wheeze as she looked into his fear-filled eyes.
She set her mouth grimly as she tried to choke the life out of the man. She couldn’t afford for him to raise the alarm.
He scrabbled for a weapon, and she planted her knee betwixt his legs. The man’s eyes bugged, and he struggled for a moment longer, before his hands started to grow weak, and then slipped to the floor.
She held down for a moment longer, and then finished the grim work with her dagger.
Taylor fell back into a sitting position, chest heaving, when another man appeared in the doorway. “You done in ’ere yet, Mor… Shit! She’s here!”
She flew to her feet, throwing her knife - which the man easily knocked aside as he drew a sword. Taylor crashed into his midsection, and completely failed to move the prepared man.
He grabbed her by her hair, hauling her backwards and jarring her neck, “I got the bitch!”
He delivered the hilt of his sword into her stomach, and then dragged her wheezing body out and into the courtyard. “Got the bitch.”
Israel looked up from where he was stamping on Vernon’s fallen form. “Ah. Well. If it ain’t Taylor. Looks like ya man is dead. Might be needin’ a new one.”
She glared up from where the other man was holding her head, “I suppose you must be thinking yourself qualified, then? I am afraid I am not much looking for a bachelor. In point of fact, you are interrupting my wedding night.”
“Flint were takin’ ya? Sheesh.” Israel shivered, “That man… No one kills that man. We buryin’ him and movin’ on. But Vernon, he told me ya had a key. The key for the chest below, and the last damnable hint where Flint put the fuckin’ treasure. We be havin’ that, we be lettin’ ya live.”
Vernon had saved her. He’d seen the need to make her important. Taylor still wasn’t sure what he thought of her, even now he was gone.
She felt a pang in her chest.
Too much death.
She took a ragged breath, “Fine. You want Flint’s treasure, I want a boat.”
“We might leave you one.” Israel said non-committally.
Taylor was fairly certain she knew exactly where the treasure was. Which was to say, nowhere nearby. Scattered along all the trade routes. A village isn’t exactly a cheap thing to create, nor maintain.
That answer was like as not to guarantee her own death.
“It’s with the English.” She said darkly, “That chest below is a red herring. Flint trapped the darn thing. Kill the curious. The treasure is in the castle, and the English sent me to distract you. Following me was the plan. Flint kills you, the English take half, and take Benny home.”
Israel scratched his chin, “I see.”
“They’re expecting me.” Taylor insisted, “Let me go. Or send me with a guard - just the one. We’ll open the gates, you can take the gold from the sailors.”
One of the others grumbled, “Fight a freakin’ war?”
“Silence!” Israel barked and then turned back to her, “We could just starve ’em out.”
“I got out. There’s a path in and out.” Taylor pointed out. “You need me.”
He chuckled softly, “Aye. Seems that way. You’re going to regret this, gal. I promise you that.”