Like a Restless Wind

The day's work had been backbreaking, but spirits were high, and all the men were relaxed and merry. Some had gone hunting, and now the wild goats they had killed were dressed and roasting on makeshift spits erected in pits on the high points of the beach. An extra ration of grog had been doled out and the men were clustered, laughing and enjoying the leisure, telling what they would do with their shares.

As darkness fell, however, Jack began to frown and Mowett grew uncharacteristically serious as he glanced more and more often towards the darkening tree line. Although still grumpy and taciturn, Allen paced restlessly, lips pursed and browns lowered in a thunderous expression.

"We know for a fact that it isn't possible for another ship to land here," said Jack to the other in private. "And all others are present and accounted for. I doubt a few rogue goats have done both of them in."

"Perhaps they decided to read Flint's papers," Mowett suggested. "Now that the light's going, they'll show up any time now."

"Or perhaps they merely wanted some time alone," Stephen said aloud, echoing the indelicate thought they all shared.

"More than likely," Jack answered coolly. "But damned imprudent to be out there after dark!"

"Sir! Sir!"

Along the beach, dirty, disheveled, grinning Tom strode carrying a weathered wooden box with equally unkempt Rose skittering alongside him excitedly. The unusual sight caused a pause in the merry activity as both crew and officers watched their approach.

"Old Flint's papers, sir," Tom reported as he set the box down on the officers' trestle table.

"And that's my last contribution to this mission," the lady sighed in mock fatigue. "From now on, this is a pleasure cruise for me!"

Even though the lieutenant and the lady were not even looking at each other, the physical attraction between them, like some powerful magnetic force, affected all of them and left no doubt to anyone what they had been doing that afternoon. As cheerful and good-natured as ever, the first officer seemed vested in rapture. Whatever fears and anxiety had plagued Rose on their journey had evaporated. The quiet, introspective widow with the death sentence hanging over her who had come aboard in the chill of England's spring was gone. Tonight, dressed in a men's trousers and shirt with her red hair tumbled loose down her back and snapping dark eyes, she showed them something of what Flint had been like in his youth, something of the high-spirited, vivid people he and Lily had.

"Have you read them?" asked the captain as he took the top off the box and peered in.

"No. I just looked at one letter to be sure it was what we were after." She grinned roguishly. In another woman, such an expression might have seemed wanton or vulgar; however, the lady's frank openness and simple friendliness rendered her wicked brilliance both charming and attractive.

There in front of them all, Jack had the box set in a larger crate and nailed shut just as the treasure had been. This most valuable bit of Flint's legacy would not leave his sight, and there it sat on their trestle table. By then, the men were passing round platters of roasted meat and settling down to their meal. The aroma was heavenly, and there was time only to wash their hands before dinner. Soon they were all enjoying the fresh island fare. Eating the richly flavored meat, savoring their drinks, reflecting on the Surprise's hold full of coins, gold, and jewels, all, save one, were blithe and full of good will. As the evening deepened, the sailing master grew increasingly morose. Later, when the men were dancing and the gentlemen took their coffee, the unhappy Mr. Allen strolled off down the beach by himself.

"I shall go speak to him," Rose said quietly to Tom and went after him, following to where Mr. Allen had sat on one of the rocks far along the beach. He must have heard her approach but he did not turn to look at her as she settled down near him and drew her knees up. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she looked up at the stars and the waning sliver of moon.

"I was not a pirate though I sailed with them," she told him. "I was never one for violence or guns and still am not. It was freedom and the sea that drew me to that life, for it was how I was raised.."

There was no response. She waited a little, wondering what he was thinking before continuing. "I was punished for my crimes, which were youthful stupidity and foolishness, never piracy. I was with child when they arrested me. I had given up that life and gone on to marry an honest sea-captain. Well, it is the regret of my life. That child, a girl, she came too early. So I lost a daughter and went to prison immediately after. There I was judged guilty by association, convicted, condemned, and very nearly hanged."

"I lost a brother," he finally said.

"By Flint's hand?"

"Aye," he said through gritted teeth, speaking with difficulty. "He and his swabs. They… nailed his feet to the deck. With spikes. Then they whipped him. He was still alive when they began cutting him to pieces. Fingers first, ears … I don't know how long it took him to die."

His words grieved her although she had suspected as much. There was nothing to be said, no comfort to be given, no apology or reparation to be made. "I am sorrier than I can express," she said quietly.

Silent and not moving, he sat staring into the sea.

"I witnessed something else equally grisly, but only once," she admitted. "It was not within my power to save the life of the poor wretch, so I did the only other thing to prevent it. I shot him dead before they had their sport with him."

"You were witness to such torture?"

"Just that once."

He frowned at her, thoughts running though his head and expression crossing his face.

"They did not like my interference, but they were afraid of my father and thus feared me by association just as the magistrates had judged me guilty." She heaved a great sigh and stretched her legs out in front of her. "I can't make any excuses for my father, but I can say one thing. Lawless and audacious as he was, while my mother was alive, he was fair and even merciful. The hideous cruelty came later, when she had passed on and I had been sent to England. When I returned, I hardly knew him. That, and the rum had taken hold of him.

"I couldn't bring myself to kill him, for I recalled the man I had known in my childhood. I couldn't kill them all anyway. Well, it was the straw that broke the back of my proverbial camel, and I deserted, jumped ship and ran away with an honest man who married me."

She looked over at him, but he was again staring at the sea, frowning and weighing her words. "He was a monstrous villain. I never saw him or spoke to him again, and I gave evidence against him. Nothing can ever remove the past or bring back those we have lost. Take your share, though, and do some good in memory of your brother. And I hope you will not think so ill of me as time passes. I imagine you would not have acted so differently if you had been in my position."

Leaving him to his solitude, she went back up the beach to where the sailors were raucously celebrating their good fortune.