Does a happy little jig I'm a very happy little author at the moment. Not only has my birthday just past, but I also got such splendid reviews from all of you wonderful people. I only wish I could thank all of you a thousand times over but, unfortunately, I can't. Just know I am sincerely thankful. And, haha, so many of you have your ideas, but whether you are right or not you will have to see. I'm just a buzzing bee right now… Well, I suppose I better buzz along. Damn do I sound corny… please ignore my second personality. She's a bit eccentric.
WARNING! Some word usage may sound a bit crude, just for the record.
Secrets of the CaribbeanWritten By: Riley Barton
[Chapter Thirty-Four]
"Not everything is how it seems, dear girl. You feel the wind blowing on your face but you cannot see it, so does that mean it isn't there? Just as the truth is glaring you in the face you do not see it, but it's there all the same."
Scarlett glared up at him, watching and waiting. He was telling her what she sought in a roundabout way, winding her down to her wits end. Something was niggling at the back of her mind, and she fought to bring it forward.
Garrett paused and removed a book from the shelf beside him. He turned and rested his elbows on the railing, balancing the book on the palm of his left hand. "Do not think me cruel, Scarlett. I believe it was William Shakespeare, your mother's favourite writer if I remember correctly, who said: 'I must be cruel only to be kind; thus bad begins, and worse remains behind'." He then turned his left hand over, allowing the thick leather bound book to fall.
Scarlett waited for it to reach the floor, some pages tearing and wrinkling as the book landed open and page down. She hesitated, looking up to Ansgar, before retrieving it. It was a collection of scripts written by William Shakespeare, and just inside the cover written in ink was her mother's name in a crisp, cursive penmanship.
"Your mother read that book so many times she could almost quote it," Garrett went on. "I found her once sitting in here, reading from that book to a small child with curly blonde hair and bright green eyes." He smirked. "You. Everything was always about you. You were her pride and joy, as you were to my brother. Pity your mother's awful lies knocked him off his high horse."
Scarlett looked up at him, refusing to give in to the case of shaking that wanted to take hold over her. Her eyes returned to the book, staring at it. It would make sense, the conclusion she was coming to, but the very idea was disturbing. Every image she had of her mother had been of a smiling woman with not a single rebellious streak in her. Could her mother really have been so different from the mental image she had formed over the years? Could her mother have been one to commit adultery?
"Spoiling your mother's reputation, am I?" Garrett asked insolently, as if reading her thoughts. "Truth always has had a small bite, much like a cold winter's wind in London." Ansgar had reached the winding staircase that went down to the library's main floor. He lazily placed a hand on the railing and started down. "Julia always hated Jamaica. She missed all the tea parties and get-togethers she experienced while visiting her grandmother in London. Seems the life she held here in Jamaica wasn't enough to satisfy her. She had to find other ways of entertaining herself. Reading became a favourite hobby, tis true, but she had an insatiable appetite for men." He smiled at her as he rounded a bend in the staircase, his eyes glittering. "My poor older brother was one of the few she snagged, and I do realize that she loved him, for a time. She never could love a man for more than a year or two. Her love for Marshall didn't even last a year, but he was so absorbed in attending to her every whim he didn't even notice when she started disappearing at various times of the day."
Scarlett stepped to the side and placed the book on a table. She tossed her cutlass into the air, caught it, and swung out, testing it. She wasn't about to be caught unaware.
"Julia was lovely, although not as gorgeous as other women I've encountered. There was something about her, though, that drew men to her. Her cat-like eyes? Her sultry charisma? I'm sure none of her lovers can honestly tell you. For me, however, it was the fact she was my brother's wife. I hate Marshall, always have. Always cast me in shadows, where my family was concerned. No one seemed to notice the younger son that worked his ass off every day bringing in some money. Oh no; they were too obsessed over their eldest son." He stepped onto the library floor and stopped, casually leaning against the railing. "I got so much pleasure thrusting it in her. More than I did with any other woman. Not because she was delicious, but because with every single movement, I was hurting my brother." He chuckled. "You were just the icing on the cake."
Scarlett growled angrily and lunged, swinging out at him; Garrett was ready.
The two parried, thrust, and blocked in a swirl of dark colours, moving in untimely unison, both skilled. Garrett's form of attack was more aristocratic with a haughty air about the way his sword's blade would slide across your skin or clothes; Scarlett's was rougher, more brutal, her attacks were hard and unmerciful - barbaric.
Neither was weakening, and the library was being torn to pieces. Blades thudded into shelves, books scattered onto the lavish rugs with torn pages, an expensive globe toppled from its stand and shattered, and the sofa and chair cushions had the stuffing seeping out from slices cut into the rich fabric. The homey smell of books mingled with the stench of sweat as the two bombarded one another with relentless attacks, slicing or bruising the other in numerous places until they couldn't begin to identify which part of their body was hurt and what wasn't. The furious static that bristled within the library's torn interior was enough to start a fire.
Scarlett's anger was a burning inferno that wouldn't be staunched, and as her arms grew weaker, the fire intensified until she was moving on adrenaline. She needed something, anything, to give her the upper hand. There was nothing in sight, however. She stumbled over a book littering the floor and fell to the ground. Garrett dropped down on top of her, pressing his blade against her own as she tried to hold him off.
"I've been waiting for this," he growled. "An eye for an eye, eh?"
Confusion flickered across her face. "I've done nothing! If all this is about is that damned jewel Jack and I stole from you, then you can have it. Jack has it in his cabin!"
Garrett laughed. "That's what you think this is all about? Do you really think me that petty to seek revenge all for a jewel? Silly wench, I've got jewels twice that size that could bring in more money than you're worth." He pressed harder on the blade and Scarlett felt her own blade nick her neck. "This is for all the pain you've cost me!"
Scarlett pushed back, forcing the blades a smidgeon away from her neck. "I don't know what you're talking about," she gasped. "I've done nothing against you. Don't take all your anger against your brother on me!"
As abruptly as an eagle swooping down onto its prey, Ansgar relented, backing away from her, glaring down on her quivering form as she lay on her back with her sword held hovering above her chest. His eyes were filled with hatred, but for what she didn't know. His sudden mercy had shocked her.
"Bitch!" Garret exclaimed. "You killed the only thing in this entire world that meant anything to me! You're just like my brother! He stole my first daughter because he thought you were his, and then you, all grown up, following in his footsteps, started that damn fire and killed her!"
Scarlett was shaking uncontrollably at the ferocity of his anger. Nothing she had ever done was due this much anger. "Whom are you talking about? I've never killed a woman, or any other undeserving person! I've killed, surely every pirate has, but only those pirates that have brutally murdered others for no apparent reason other than greed. I have never, and never will, kill an innocent person, Garrett."
Garrett was shaking out of anger, his grip on his sword tightening. He shook his head as angry tears rose in his eyes. "Liar! You killed her, you killed my little Abigail!" The sword suddenly dropped from his hands and he fell to his knees, shaking.
Frightened and unsure of this abrupt display of weakness caused Scarlett to back away, fearing he would suddenly lash out and kill her. She shook her head. "I've told you." Her voice was cracking. "I have never killed a woman, let alone a child."
"Don't lie to me!" he shouted. He stumbled to his feet and grabbed his sword, but instead of advancing on her as Scarlett had expected, he strode across the library to a dark section and tore a black curtain off the wall. A picture was hiding behind, but until Ansgar lit two lanterns was Scarlett able to discern what was painted onto the canvas. Her eyes widened as she saw an angelic looking woman with soft brown hair and hazel eyes. A younger version of the woman sat on her lap, decked out in a prim pink dress lined with lace. Scarlett knew that child, and her mind flashed back to years before on the night she and Jack stole the gem from Ansgar. The fire had been spreading quickly, faster than they had imaged, and they had been forced to flee through the kitchen. She had stopped upon seeing a small girl hiding under the table.
"Oh my God," Scarlett whispered as she felt her heart clench. That small girl she had helped out of the burning building, the girl who had been asking to be taken to her father, the girl she had, instead, taken to a strangers home for safe-keeping, had been Abigail. Ansgar's daughter and her half-sister.
Garrett glared at her. "That was my wife, Victoria, and that small child was my daughter, Abigail, the girl you killed in that damn fire. Victoria killed herself out of despair upon learning that her only daughter had been killed by the unwanted bitch of mine from a former fling." He angrily wiped the tears away from his eyes. "And now, your son will pay for what you did. You and that damned pirate captain of yours, both of you deserve the worst punishment possible for killing my baby girl!"
Tears were in Scarlett's eyes as she stumbled to her feet, shaking her head helplessly. "She wasn't killed, Garrett," she tried to explain. "I found her hiding under a table in the back kitchen of that building. I helped her out and gave her to some stranger, asking the lady to take her to find her father. I had never dreamt it was you, and I never knew what became of the girl. I assumed she was taken to her father."
"Lying bitch!" Garrett swung out furiously, slicing the portrait in half out of his anger. "Stop making up lies to cover your ass. Lies aren't going to help you now!"
Scarlett could only block the oncoming blows from his as he lashed out in despair, anger, and hurt. Both had tears in their eyes as they fought. Scarlett didn't even try to attack him; her heart just wasn't set against him anymore. She allowed him to press against her until he grew too weary to continue. When he finally did, he dropped to the floor like a wounded animal and cried, his shoulders shaking.
Scarlett gasped achingly through her own tears, her heart hurting for the pitiful state of her true father, a man who was not only her father, but also the father of another girl named Abigail, now around the age of nineteen, who no one knew where to find. Her tears blurred her vision as hurts and despair from years past overcame her. She wanted to fall right then and there and cry until she felt better, but she knew she couldn't. She gazed at Garrett's crumpled, shaking, crying form and closed her eyes as tears seeped out from under her lids. When she opened them again Garrett was still there. Knowing she was of no use to him, she left in search of Carver.
Scarlett searched every nook and cranny, looking behind every couch, every tapestry, every desk, under every bed, until she finally came to an insignificant door at the farthest reaches of the house on the top floor. The door was locked when she tried it, but in a surge of adrenaline she charged the door, everything going into that one push. The door fell open and landed onto the wooden planks with a bang, just barely covering the sound of something moving along the floor. With eyes swollen from crying and cheeks stained with dried tears, she looked into the dark room and whispered, "Carver?" No one replied, and a gut-wrenching sob escaped her as she threw herself against the wall and slid down until she reached the floor. She cradled her head in her hands, shaking. Was there nothing left for her anymore?
She sat there sobbing, letting everything out, when she felt small hands reach around her and hold her close. Scarlett jumped and looked down at the small boy hugging her around the middle as he pressed his face against her shoulder. Her heart leapt upon seeing the familiar dark curls, and she grinned as happy tears flowed down her cheeks as she held her son close. She was so overcome upon finding him and him upon finding her that neither of them heard the approaching footsteps until a shadow passed over them. Scarlett looked up, gasped, and pulled Carver back with her against the farthest wall. She cursed herself upon forgetting her weapons in the library. All she had to defend herself was a meager knife.
Garrett Ansgar loomed over them with red eyes. In his hand he held a flaming torch with fire flickering harshly on the end. He smiled and chuckled weakly. "God be with you," he whispered hauntingly, and placed the torch against the walls on either side of the doorframe, holding it there until the walls caught and began to spread. Ansgar disappeared as smoke and a hell-like heat surrounded the two figures huddled inside.
Scarlett grabbed Carver into her arms and, shielding his body with hers, ran through the burning doorway into the hall, already starting to catch some of the flames escaping from the tiny room. She stared in horror at the walls; many sections of them already up in flames. How long had she left Garrett alone? Had he had enough time to douse the entire house in fire and smoke? Without contemplating it a moment longer, she dashed down the burning hallway to the stairs. She was going to get Carver out of there even if she was killed in the process. Jack could take care of him for her, she knew.
She managed to reach the main floor before the smoke reached any of the staircases, but she was only surrounded by more smoke as she reached the bottom. Ansgar was running throughout the house, drenching it in flames. He was going to burn down his own home with the three of them inside.
Coughing and wheezing, she made her way by memory down the halls, searching for an exit. After what seemed like hours of searching, she couldn't find one. Her mind was clouding, she had inhaled too much smoke, and Carver's weight was overpowering her. She was stumbling now, trying not to fall onto anything already up in flames. Parts of the roof and walls were collapsing, falling in around her, and she became so disoriented she didn't know her left hand from her right. She stumbled into another hallway and wanted to weep. It was a never-ending maze of fire and smoke that she couldn't escape.
Hands hot to the touch grabbed her by the arm while another reached around her waist, leading her in a direction totally opposite from whence she had come. She didn't even care who it was, just so long as they were leading she and Carver out. The smoke had overpowered her just as fresh air swept into her nostrils and revived her mind. She felt the crunch of grass beneath her and the wind on her face, even though she couldn't see it through her smoke-tortured eyes. She set Carver on the ground before collapsing onto her hands and knees, gasping in the fresh air as tears leaked from her eyes, causing them to burn. She could feel the heat of the fire on her back, but she didn't care. Her hands and knees couldn't seem to take the weight any more and she fell onto her stomach on the grass, still coughing and gasping for air. She opened her eyes and searched feebly for anything that could let her know where she was and who was with her. Her eyes wouldn't cooperate, and instead she was left blind as her mind went blank and what little adrenaline was left ebbed away on the dark smoke clouds.
Author's Note: There's the next chapter for ya, the climax! And, sadly, our story has come to an end after the next chapter. All the questions have been answered, I think, and if not, remind me and I will revise, though I'm fairly certain I've explained most of everything. I hope you all enjoyed it, and please review, now especially. Keep an ear and an eye out for the last and final chapter! Cheers!