The Adventures of Pocahontas and John Rolfe: Book I

by Spidersting

Book I picks up where the sequel left off. Pocahontas and John Rolfe are on the ship back to Virginia hoping to spend the rest of their lives together in peace. Instead they stumble upon a series of adventures and misadventures. Together, they discover that the road to happily-ever-after is paved with many more obstacles than they ever imagined. Characters and universe owned by Dis

3. No One Makes a Fool of Finley Flame

The Adventures of Pocahontas and John Rolfe: Book I

Chapter 3: No One Makes a Fool of Finley Flame

SEPTEMBER 16, 1613

The next morning, Pocahontas was very nervous about trying to separate John Rolfe from the crew—or even approach him in sight of the others. She had to keep the bosun trusting in her and she knew for certain that she could not afford to rouse his suspicion.

In the late evening, John Rolfe showed up in the mess hall and sat at one of the less populated tables. At last, Pocahontas saw an opportunity. The bosun had yet to arrive, so she found a stray piece of parchment in the galley and jotted a brief note on it. When she went to serve Rolfe, she slipped it into his hand as she laid his plate before him. The man blinked in surprise at first but said nothing more than, "Thank you, cabin boy."

John Rolfe watched as Pocahontas nodded and left to fill other men's orders. When she was gone, he unfolded the note in a concealed position and read it.

J,

Meet me in the hold after hours. Destroy this note once you've read it.

~P

The Englishman immediately tore the parchment up and chucked it out the small port-side window hatch behind him when nobody was glancing in his direction.

When Pocahontas finally arrived in the hold later that night, John Rolfe was already there with an expression of deep concern on his face. "Pocahontas, what is it? Did something happen? Is it bad?" he blurted the moment he caught sight of her.

Pocahontas did not reply at first, placing her lantern on a barrel. As he approached, she held up her hands to receive his. Their fingers automatically intertwined as they met. She peered around, double-checking that the door was closed. Turning back to John Rolfe, she bit her lip. The emotions she had felt the night before upon hearing the horrifying tale returned when she felt it safe at last to purge them. Her eyes filled with tears.

Seeing the glassy look in her eyes, John Rolfe started to feel panicked. "Pocahontas, what is it?!" he hollered, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek. He gazed intently into her dark brown eyes in an attempt to assess what could possibly be going through her mind.

Pocahontas paused, pondering on how best to express her worries. When she started, her voice broke immediately. "Something h-happened last night," she uttered.

John Rolfe furrowed his brows, feeling a vein bulge on his temple. "What? Did someone hurt you?! Who? I'll kill him!" he bellowed, his heart starting to race. He was relieved when Pocahontas shook her head, though his concern still showed. "Then what? What's made you so upset, love?" he gently interrogated, still fearful of the answer.

Pocahontas sat down with John Rolfe on a couple of short kegs on the floor. She began to recount the story, starting from when she had eavesdropped on the pirates in the mess hall. The Powhatan princess strangely found herself leaving everything about the spirits out, as she seemed to worry that a man of Christian faith like Rolfe would not understand. Regardless, she observed that he was listening intently to what she was telling him.

When she got to the part about the murdered woman and child, her voice cracked again. She started hyperventilating. John Rolfe placed a hand on her shoulder. "Love, I think I know where this is heading. If you don't want to finish, you don't have to."

"It was bad, John. What they did—I can't imagine why anyone would…" Pocahontas left the thought unfinished and wiped a tear from her eye with a long sleeve.

"Poor woman," John Rolfe lamented. "I know what she did is technically considered a sin, but I personally find it hard to blame her considering the fellow already had over thirty wives. In my estimation, that is just plain greedy. A lady should never have to share with so many. Think of how little attention she would get anyway when he took a new bride after her," he remarked as Pocahontas buried her face in his chest.

She heaved into his shirt. "And then he said they attacked the camp and tortured the father to death," she bit out, sniffling. "It almost felt like he was implying that it was something he wanted to do to you as well just because of how you look. He hasn't even spoken a word to you, but the way he looks at you makes me think…"

John Rolfe put a finger to her lips to silence her troubled thoughts. "Hush, hush. I know it's frightening. But listen. Maybe you'll feel better if I tell you a similar story with a nicer ending," he proposed. "It's from the Holy Bible. Would you like to hear it?"

Pocahontas blinked the tears out of her eyes and raised her head. "Alright, but only if nobody gets hurt," she murmured in a miserable-sounding voice.

"Nobody gets hurt," he confirmed. "This is nothing like the crucifixion story, you have my word." He made the sign of the cross over his chest. "Cross my heart, hope to die."

Pocahontas perked up and scooted her keg a little closer to his, wiping her tears away. "Okay, sure," she said. Throughout the peaceful leg of the Virginia-bound voyage, Pocahontas and John Rolfe had spent a great deal of time exchanging stories from their respective cultures. The Powhatan princess was particularly fond of the stories surrounding King Arthur and his legendary Round Table. Biblical tales and English fairytales were of particular fascination as well. Rolfe was quite a skilled storyteller, almost as good as Pocahontas herself. Hence, she very much enjoyed listening.

It was a month after they had set sail from London that Pocahontas started teaching John Rolfe her native language. The children in her village loved stories so much that she hoped he might regale them around the bonfire at some later time. He was slow to pick up the Powhatan tongue though as it was so radically different from his own. Learning French and Spanish had been a breeze compared to Powhatan. It also did not help that he was a visual learner and Powhatan had no written form to aid his memory.

"Alright," John Rolfe announced, adjusting his seating to get more comfortable. "If my memory serves, this is from the Gospel of John. The Latin title is Pericope Adulterae, although my brothers and sisters simply used to call it Jesus and the Adulteress. As you might recall, Jesus was a very compassionate man who believed strongly in the concepts of mercy and suspension of judgment." While the story was not very long, he described the setting and ancient culture in detail to give her a more vivid picture.

Pocahontas was totally captivated and listened to the entire story without interrupting with questions or comments. She felt her heart stop when the gruesome mention of stoning came up but became enamored of the part where Jesus told the scribes and Pharisees, "Let any among you who is without sin cast the first stone."

"And so, when everyone had left, he said to her, 'Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?' She said, 'No one, sir.' And then he replied, 'Neither do I condemn you. Go your way and from now on do not sin again.' And that is how the story ends," John Rolfe finished. "Is your mind a bit more at peace now?" he asked.

Pocahontas nodded. "Yes, but I'm still afraid to listen to more of the bosun's stories. How much worse could they get? I'd rather not find out. The first one started so wonderfully in the beginning. I never thought that the ending would be so horrendous."

"I understand, Pocahontas," John Rolfe replied. "But I think it's important that you keep up this good rapport with him, especially in light of how dangerous he appears to be. A wise man once told me to keep my friends close and my enemies closer. I know some of what he says will be hard to hear, but next time do not be afraid to wake me if you require my reassurance. Douse me in water if you have to, I don't care!"

Pocahontas gave him a half-hearted nod and rested her elbows on her knees, propping her head up on her hands. "I'm even more afraid that he'll try to hurt you," she admitted.

"I understand. But if you speak with him regularly, he might tell you what he's planning. Then you would be able to warn me," John Rolfe countered, trying to lighten her mood with a smile. "Wouldn't you rather we have that advantage than be left in the dark?"

"Uh huh," Pocahontas replied as she sat back. She started wringing her hands a little between her knees and peered up at John Rolfe again, meeting his eye.

"So, Pocahontas, I do have a bit of good news," John Rolfe announced, changing to a more pleasant subject. "I've finally convinced one of the navigators to make me his apprentice. If I can earn his trust, then he might leave me alone with the land map long enough for me to copy it. I know we have not seen any land yet, but we will be coming upon the Florida peninsula in the next two weeks. There is a French settlement there called St. Augustine. If we can escape in a cock boat near that location, we might be able to get the French to help us get back to Virginia. The French and British are allies at the present time, so there's an excellent chance that we can curry their favor."

"What about Hispaniola?" Pocahontas inquired, bringing a finger to her lower lip. "I thought the plan was to find a ship when we get there to sail back north."

"That is a less preferable option, love. The part of Hispaniola that we will be going to is full of cutthroats and fiends and the other parts are controlled by the Spanish, who are not our allies," John Rolfe explained. "The French are a much safer option. Plus, we will get home much sooner if we avoid sailing all the way down to Hispaniola. Thirdly, I don't know about you, but I can hardly wait another minute to escape these awful brutes," he said, placing a hand gingerly over the purplish black eye he had received from one of the moody scoundrels days earlier. To add insult to injury, he had also been spat on.

Pocahontas chewed her bottom lip, fretting over him. The best she could do to help him was to show her support for his ideas. "Glad we're on the same page," she affirmed with a sigh, rising to her feet. John Rolfe did so as well. She noticed him fanning himself with a broken piece of board and then realized how much she was sweating herself.

"You can tell we're getting farther south because the weather gets so much hotter," John Rolfe remarked. "I highly doubt it snows much in this part of the world."

The summer had just come to a close. Although early autumn was usually warm in Virginia, it certainly was not this warm. Pocahontas started fanning herself as well and adjusted her ever-so-irritating corset. "Ugh, it feels so much tighter today."

"It's probably because we've been eating so much in preparation for our escape. I can loosen it. Good to know you've been following my advice. At least we'll be able to go without food for longer," John Rolfe replied as Pocahontas lifted the back of her men's shirt. The Englishman loosened the corset strings a bit, making Pocahontas feel much more comfortable. "Better?" he asked, receiving a nod from her. "Good. You should be able to throw that dreadful thing off the moment we flee," he added, stretching his back. "Now, I don't know about you, but I am positively exhausted. Shall we retire?"

Pocahontas gave an affirmative nod and they left for the berthing quarters above.

…

Pocahontas opened her eyes about thirty minutes before it was time for the day shift to officially start. She did not like how First Mate Legless had a bad habit of barging in, overturning hammocks, and making tons of noise to rouse the crew. It was a horrible way to be woken up, so Pocahontas's body had quickly trained itself to rise before the wakeup call. She extended that benefit to John Rolfe by gently tugging on his arm. Hence, they were both sure to be awake and out the door before Legless even arrived.

They hurriedly went up to the deck and ate breakfast in view of the rising orange sun. While pirate culture was hostile to the very notion of romance, they still had ways of finding time for it at every opportunity. They were able to get relative privacy at the stern of the ship, as the late shift was busy at the helm and farther up front on the vessel.

The risk of prying eyes was less of a bother at such an hour, but, as a precaution, John Rolfe and Pocahontas avoided locking lips unless they were alone down in the hold. The crew did not frequent the lowest level of the ship except when someone needed to gather supplies. Fortunately, that duty was normally assigned to the cabin boy. Thus, Rolfe and Pocahontas came to see the large dim chamber as a sort of sanctuary.

Meeko's condition had improved due to the smooth sailing, but he was still nowhere near back to his normal self. When Pocahontas thought he was well enough, she moved him, Percy, and Flit to the hold. Aside from the constant access to food, the hold was larger and afforded more hiding places. This was something that Percy appreciated in particular. The crew had not even spotted him yet and he intended to keep it that way.

After eating, John Rolfe relieved a night rigger from the lower sails. He liked to be the first on duty for two reasons. For one, Flame would never have reason to doubt his dedication and willingness to work hard. That, in turn, greatly reduced the likelihood of a flogging. Secondly, he had begun taking the initiative because he was able to select a lower location for himself, thus reducing the risk of a fatal fall. It was certainly better than waiting to be assigned a lofty position, which he almost always was by the fiendish captain or first mate. On deck, Pocahontas practiced solo with the wooden sword as she waited for someone to call her male name for the first errands of the day.

SEPTEMBER 18, 1613

Some days later, John Rolfe began to prepare provisions for their impending departure. He had found out from Nine-Fingers Nash, the ship's daytime navigator, that the Florida coast was expected to appear within the next two days. It would take another day or two for them to pass St. Augustine. Then he and Pocahontas would flee to safety.

After getting over the initial shock of the bosun's horror story, Pocahontas found the courage to go back to him for more, as John Rolfe had recommended. The next story he had told her was bone-chilling as well. He had recounted his capture by the pale invaders, cruel torture, and subsequent two years of unimaginably brutal slavery.

The most disturbing part was the bit about his escape. He had essentially gone insane after one particularly violent beating from his 'master.' In the dead of night, after release from the chains of his torment, the bosun had snuck into the bedrooms of the man's young children and slit their throats, all three. He had subsequently murdered the master and mistress as well in a manner most violent and burned their house to the ground.

The slave-hunters trailed him far into the wilderness with trained bloodhounds and almost caught him, but they stumbled upon a band of treasure-hunting pirates first. After the bosun watched the brigands rob and kill his pursuers from tall grasses, he gathered the courage to approach them and ask to become one of them. He had since been part of the crew of the Blood Draw for nearly two decades and had never looked back.

After that unfortunate saga, the bosun began to tell much nicer stories about the time before the white invaders arrived. His homeland seemed like an idyllic paradise during his childhood years. While the laws of the land involved a few cruel punishments, they were almost never applied, as crimes had been extraordinarily rare. All in all, happiness and mirth had been widespread throughout all the jungle villages.

Quicker than she realized, Pocahontas became mesmerized by the tales from Affrika. She wondered if she might ever see it in person. Another part of her mind was curious as to what John Rolfe knew of it if anything. He had previously listened to her recount the bosun's tale in silence, giving no indication regarding his familiarity with the country or culture. Naturally, he had been far more concerned with her upset state of mind.

…

SEPTEMBER 20, 1613

When land finally came into view days later, Pocahontas was swabbing the deck while John Rolfe and the rest of the day shift manned the ship. As soon as Nine-Fingers cried land ho, everyone on deck dropped what they were doing and raced to the starboard side of the ship to catch a glimpse. Pocahontas was the first to get there, as she had been the closest. While Flame ordered the men back to work, Pocahontas swabbed the deck near the starboard side so she could get a better look as they neared the strange land.

The morning mist was enough to shroud everyone's view of the subtropical land. It took the sun about thirty minutes to rise high enough to evaporate the mists. When it did, the bosun found Pocahontas staring jaw-dropped at the bizarre alien landscape. He walked up behind her and placed his hands on the railing as he peered out over the dense expanse of mangroves and saw palmettos. "Strange, isn't it?" he remarked after a couple moments of quiet observation. "Very different from your homeland, I suppose."

Pocahontas nodded. "I never seen such land. It look like you cannot move in."

"You can," the bosun replied. "It helps to have a machete though." He pulled one from his belt and spun it skillfully in the air. Then he caught it by the hilt and showed it to her. "You chop as you go," he explained with a few demonstrative thrusts. "The sharp blade can cut through large saplings in one swipe. A native Affrikaan naturally needs no such implement just to travel, but all the pale men who came used them."

Pocahontas frowned at the suggestion of mutilating the land just to pass through, but she took the machete out of curiosity anyway and examined it. "It is heavy."

"The weight helps put power into the swing," the bosun explained. She nodded and tried to hand it back to him, but he did not accept it. "Keep it. I have another. It is about time you earned your first weapon anyway," he asserted, turning to go back to his post.

Pocahontas smiled and thanked him as she went back to examining the strange blade. She barely tested it on the wooden railing, peeling away a paper-thin grain. It was very sharp indeed. She would have to be careful with it and perhaps make it a leather sheath later on. The bosun had none, as he had simply worn the item loosely clipped to his belt.

Pocahontas tied the hilt to her belt, aiming the sharp side away from her pants. Somehow she felt proud of it. The bosun said she had earned it, after all. She assumed he meant on account of her dedication to daily sword practice. The Powhatan woman had not moved beyond the blunt wooden blade yet and now she already owned her own weapon.

The only other weapon she had experience with was the longbow. Though the men in her village disapproved, she had always wanted to be as skilled as they were for reasons she could not quite place. She had never shown an interest in any combat-only weapons, such as the tomahawk, as they were used almost exclusively to kill enemies.

Pocahontas continued to ogle the bizarre coastline, pondering the exotic animals and peoples that might lie beyond what she could see. The fruit supply had been running low on the ship because Pocahontas and John Rolfe had been hoarding fruits. As a result, she had overheard the crewmen asking to dock so they could gather more from the forest. It was to everyone's disappointment that Captain Flame announced that the ship would not be docking at all, as hostile natives were rumored to inhabit the area. Pocahontas sighed and wondered what the dense landscape would be like to explore.

She got bored eventually and went back to her duties, swabbing the deck clean of any and all dirt and debris. As pirates always wore dirty boots and never bathed, this had turned out to be a triweekly chore for her. It did not bother her though because the mindless activity gave her time to think. With the Blood Draw some miles ahead of them, it was a speck on the horizon. Bleud and Flame had agreed to meet up again just before passing St. Augustine, as they planned to sneak past the settlement in the dead of night.

Peering up into the yards, Pocahontas observed John Rolfe deep in thought. She figured he was trying to think up a way to get around this new development. The whole crew would be up and about at that time. He had initially hoped they would be able to sneak off at night when most of the pirates were asleep, but Bleud and Flame had come up with a different set of plans. The crew wanted to avoid detection, as St. Augustine had been rearmed lately after the last pirate attack. The settlement held no interest to them, so they merely wished to avoid it by sailing a little farther out to sea as they passed by.

When the winds evened out again in the early evening, John Rolfe was relieved from his duties earlier than expected. Flame then ordered him to venture down to the hold to assist the young cabin boy in carrying heavy bushels of potatoes and other items to the galley. The Englishman, of course, would never protest to such a convenient command.

John Rolfe met Pocahontas down in the hold minutes after to reveal his new plan. He decided they would wait until the ships approached the coastline again after passing the settlement. Then they would take flight. Due to the direction of the prevailing winds at that point, it would be difficult for the two ships to backtrack and try to hunt them down. After that, they would simply hike north through the hammocks on up to St. Augustine and they would finally be safe from the pirates within the armed settlement walls.

Pocahontas nodded her agreement with the Englishman's idea as she finished peeling her last potato. John Rolfe hefted the cauldron up with little effort and kissed her on the cheek. "Just think! In a few more days, we'll never have to cross paths with any of these lunatics again," he announced in a voice laden with hope and triumph.

Pocahontas jumped up and down in excitement, as did Meeko and Percy. Flit zipped around in circles. John Rolfe chuckled. "It's a bit early to celebrate, love. Let's save the festivities for when we arrive in St. Augustine. I think you're going to love the French, Pocahontas. They're quite known for their tasty cuisine and cheeses. Oh, and the pastries they make—delicious!" he lauded, licking his own lips at the thought.

"I can't wait!" Pocahontas exclaimed. She would have jumped on him in glee if he had not been carrying a heavy load. "And then after that, I can't wait to get home. I wonder how Nakoma and my father have been doing. I hope we're having a good harvest this year! And I really miss Grandmother Will—" she stopped herself, pivoting towards John Rolfe to think of a quick cover-up. When the Englishman raised an eyebrow in curiosity, she ran over to his side and kissed him firmly on the lips. "Let's just say, I have a lot of people I want you to meet," she concluded, leaving the subject at that.

The distraction worked. John Rolfe smiled and nodded his head. "I better get this food to the cook before he gets impatient," he indicated, turning in the direction of the door. Pocahontas shuffled over and opened it for him. "Thank you, love," he said as he left. She followed him and they parted ways when they reached the middle level. Pocahontas went to find Captain Flame for her next duty and Rolfe made his way to the galley.

For the rest of the day, Pocahontas went about her chores with a spring in her step. Not only was she thrilled about setting foot on solid land again. but she was starting to feel more confident that her father might actually consent to her union with John Rolfe. The chief's primary concern in pairing her with someone had always been her safety. He had wanted her to marry a strong warrior whom he trusted to protect her.

The Powhatan woman doubted there were many men in the whole world who could have done what John Rolfe had. Most men she had known, given the same situation, would not have hesitated for one second to cross blades with the pirates. They themselves would have received the postmortem honor of a glorious battle death, but there would have been nothing honorable about Pocahontas's life in the hands of such a merciless enemy.

In comparison, John Rolfe's plan had been a stroke of genius. He had shown Pocahontas he valued her safety far above his own foolish pride or sense of honor. Furthermore, he had effectively rescued her from a dreadful fate with his quick thinking and selflessness. If that was not something Chief Powhatan would give Rolfe credit for, then Pocahontas would be astounded. If such feats failed to please her father, nothing would.

…

Supper in the mess hall was not as boisterous as usual because the rum supply had nearly dried up already. While this made the crew less prone to random acts of stupidity, it also made them far more irritable. For this reason, Pocahontas found John Rolfe sitting apart from the others. He clearly was not keen on becoming anyone's punching bag again that evening. The bruises were still healing from his few previous encounters.

John Rolfe also wanted to be alone so he could think. He kept checking and rechecking all of the preparations he had made in his mind. Rolfe had hidden a supply pack in the storage compartment of the cock-boat they were planning to hijack. As a precaution, he kept the king's order and Pocahontas's necklace hidden on his person at all times.

John Rolfe hardly noticed that Pocahontas was delivering his meal until she was standing right over him. He jolted in alarm when his peripheral senses decided that she was just another bored pirate about to clobber him for some cheap amusement. The Englishman placed a hand to his chest in relief when he recognized his disguised lady friend. "Oh! Hi, cabin boy. You gave me a small start. Thank you," he greeted, turning his attention to the meal. He could see the concern in Pocahontas's eyes, yet he dared not acknowledge it in front of the others. We'll be out of here soon enough, love, he thought. Soon enough.

Pocahontas sighed and moved on to the next table. That was where she came upon some of the crewmen bellyaching about the current situation. "I'm telling you, men. If I canna get me hands on a wench, chest of gold, or bottle of rum in the next day or three, I'm gonna blow someone's bleedin' brains out," Bloodlet Bernard griped noisily. The grumpy scoundrel was a pirate of Scottish origin and the crew's master gunner.

After weeks of exposure to piracy lingo, Pocahontas had learned that 'wench' was some kind of synonym for woman. The bosun had implied wenches excluded maidens though. Pocahontas worried that she did not yet know the full implications of the term.

Somewhat tired from the day's activities, Pocahontas decided to shrug off the thought until she heard the next cur speak in reply. "Maybe the cap'n'll let us go ashore now. There have got to be some Injun villages around here somewhere. We'll snatch a few wenches to hold us over and toss 'em overboard later or sell 'em in Hispaniola. What say you, men? Flame is not an unreasonable man. I'm sure he'll listen if we explain how much it'll improve the men's morale, eh? 'Sides, what's he afraid of? We're the ones with the bigger guns anywho!" he proclaimed, flailing his pistol around in the air.

Pocahontas felt her heart stop when the man's morbid suggestion received a round of cheers from his companions. John Rolfe overheard as well while he ate his dinner nearby. He felt his stomach churn. Somehow he had to foil their plan, especially because he feared Pocahontas would be unable to hold her tongue if forced to witness such a thing. Rolfe's fears were soon put to rest when the captain made an appearance.

"I'll tell you men what," the scarred man proposed, strutting over to the table. "If we come upon a ship, you're free to have your way with the wenches onboard. But I'm not having us waste time looking for a village that may or may not exist. The mangroves are thick along the coast and not easy to get through, even with machetes."

As irritated as the men were, they could see reason in the captain's argument. However, that did nothing to improve their moods one bit. John Rolfe hurriedly devoured his meal and ducked out of the room before tempers really started to flare.

One great thing about Pocahontas's friendship with the bosun—one that John Rolfe appreciated most of all—was the fact that nobody dared to see her as a target for their violent behaviors. Despite the threat the bosun posed to Rolfe himself, the Englishman always felt better about leaving his love unattended with the pirates when the large man was around. The diplomat made his way out the door and glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of the bosun as Flame joined his table. Rolfe gave Pocahontas one last glance as well. Seeing that she looked alright, he finally turned and left.

…

John Rolfe retired to the berthing quarters early, as it had been a rather long day for him. Meanwhile, Pocahontas found the bosun up on the deck after her shift was over. He was staring down into the dark Floridian waters in reminiscence. They talked for a while until he finally decided to retire, bidding her goodnight. The dark-skinned man took his leave, disappearing through one of the doors to the interior of the ship.

When Pocahontas failed to follow, she realized just how restless she was. She placed her elbows on the railing and overlapped her forearms, sighing as she watched the nearly full moon rise from the dark horizon. The deck was mostly deserted except for the nighttime navigator Willem Gallows and a few sailors who were carrying out various duties.

With the winds strong and even, the ship sailed relatively fast through the dark ocean waters. Based on the position of the black landmass, Pocahontas judged that they were somewhere between a half-mile and a mile from shore. The mystery behind the odd landscape eluded her. From what she had heard, many of the landmasses they passed were actually islands. They were allegedly connected to the mainland by narrow bridges of fine cream-colored sand and were called 'barrier islands' because they were supposed to protect the mainland from fierce storms that were frequent in the area.

Pocahontas heard a sudden loud noise like water being blown through a geyser hole. She jolted and glanced down toward the ocean water at the bow of the ship. Not far from the hull, she glimpsed a giant glistening fishtail as it rose up and slapped the water. Gallows heard the noise as well and strutted over to the starboard side by Pocahontas. "Looks to be a killer whale. Fierce beasts, those. I heard of one biting a man's head clean off when they get into a feeding frenzy. Legend back home had it that they could eat the bottom out from under a ship. Best we head a bit farther out to sea until we pass 'em."

Pocahontas blinked in surprise as the man turned, shouting orders to the small crew to shift the sails eastward. "Is true?" she asked suddenly, worriedly placing her fingernails upon her lower lip. "You seen them attack man and bite head off?"

Gallows spun back to Pocahontas with a gleam in his eye. "Not with me own eyes, boy. But I have sources. Better safe than sorry, I always say. 'Tis wisest to avoid those waters where legends abound. If I had my way, we wouldn't even be taking this here route. But the cap'n has the final word and I ain't the cap'n," he expressed.

Pocahontas nodded. She peered out to sea again, observing as the ship started moving farther and farther away from land. She glanced a pod of the black-and-white beasts heading south. They were not far away from the ship yet, but, given a few more minutes heading in different directions, they would be. She jumped when she heard Gallows speak again. "Now, unless ye plan to retire, lad, I suggest you make yourself useful and help me set up the cast net in case those nasty sea-vermin should attempt to follow us," he indicated, eyeing the whales. "We're woefully low on staff this time o' night."

The creatures did not really look that mean to Pocahontas, but she obeyed anyway as a precaution. She walked down to the main deck with Gallows and helped him throw open the top of a large wooden container stored by the main mast. She yanked part of the large net out with her hands and scrutinized it. "This look confusing," she noted.

"Aye, but it's easier than you think. Just reach up and grab one of those big old hooks hanging overhead," Gallows instructed, doing the same to demonstrate the procedure. He hooked the line onto a thick metal hoop on one corner of the net.

Pocahontas had to hop up to reach one on her side. She grabbed it and weighed it down, effectively spinning the pulley it was attached to in order to give herself more slack. She held onto the hook as she searched through the netting mass for a metal ring. When she found it, she hooked it on like Gallows had done. "Now do the other one. And afterward, I recommend you get some shuteye, lad," he said, doing the same on the opposite side.

Pocahontas found the other ring in the netting, pulling it out for easy access. Peering up, she spotted the second hook slightly higher than the first. When she jumped up to grab it, however, she missed at first. She tried again. This time her fingers missed it, but the loose sleeve of her collared men's shirt did not. The pulley turned out to be badly rusted. As Pocahontas started to descend, the metal hook tore her shirt halfway off.

She stumbled on her feet and gasped, gazing up at the wide-eyed navigator like a doe caught in a hunter's torchlight. Gallows stared back at her in jaw-dropped silence for an extended moment, trying to process what he was seeing. The corset wrapped around her torso was not the dead giveaway so much as the swell right at the top. She watched in horror as the man's puzzled expression gradually gave way to an ominous grin. "'Tis a wench!" cried one of the other crewmen as he swiftly swung down a rope from one of the lower yards. "At last!" he declared, landing about twenty paces away from her.

"Shut up, I saw 'er first!" another pirate behind him snapped, yanking his compatriot back in an attempt to get to the woman first. The two men started to fistfight.

Pocahontas squealed and tried to scramble away, but her shirt was caught on the rusted hook and her arm still wrapped up in the other sleeve. "Looks like the devil answered our prayers, men," Gallows echoed back. He rounded the net container, throwing a crate out of his way to clear a path to her. Pocahontas saw the rest of the night crew climbing down the shrouds in her peripheral vision, hooting and hollering as they closed in around her. Her bronchial tubes constricted sharply as fear overpowered her and tears pricked at her eyes. She struggled to draw in breath and tugged madly at her caught shirt, but Gallows was upon her in an instant with his thick fingers around her slender neck.

Pocahontas's heart was pounding in her ears when she suddenly heard a loud thump. Her attacker's back snapped straight and the leer fell from his face in an instant, his grip on her throat weakening. Before she knew it, he had crumpled to the ground in front of her. The handle of a dagger protruded from his upper back, right along the spine.

As Pocahontas stared down at the dead navigator, her ears detected the metallic clatter of swords over the yelling of the other night crewmen. She looked up again and watched as John Rolfe withdrew his blood-splattered blade from the belly of a rigger, spinning around in one smooth motion to shear another assailant's head clean off the shoulders. As more of the night crew surrounded him, the Englishman fought with a ferocity she had not seen since Kocoum had attacked John Smith over a half-decade ago.

John Rolfe suffered a painful gash, but he disabled his last two opponents and found an opening to run toward her. "Pocahontas, you must swim to shore," he bellowed, using his sword to cut her shirt free from the hook. With one arm, he gathered her up on his shoulder in a rush and leapt up the stairs to quarterdeck as more pirates emerged from below. At the starboard side, he did not hesitate for a moment to chuck her overboard. He gasped when he peered up and saw the land much farther away than expected. "Damn!" he cursed. The stunned woman surfaced in the warm dark waters. "Swim with all your might, Pocahontas! I'll follow!" he cried down to her. He heard her cough a bit. To his relief, she quickly gathered her wits and pivoted herself away from the ship. Pocahontas launched her body into a smooth front crawl as she made for land.

John Rolfe turned to the cock-boat a short way down the deck. It was the one they had planned to steal. There was no time to launch it now, but he knew without a doubt they would need the survival provisions that the supply compartment contained.

"The wench is getting away!" came another voice.

"Get her, idiots! I'll deal with the traitor!" roared Spike-Eyes, the silent one that had freed them from the brig cell weeks ago. A subordinate made to dive into the water on the starboard side, but John Rolfe threw his sword with miraculous aim and speared the man through the heart as he dove. The body made a sizable splash and sank to the depths.

John Rolfe hopped down to the main deck and robbed the dead navigator of his weapon and land map. He had to make it to the cock-boat and then to the stern of the ship to drop the anchor. It would buy them a bit more time to swim to shore. With the anchor down, Captain Flame would have to rouse more men to pull it back up.

"FLIT!" John Rolfe howled at the top of his lungs. It took him about ten seconds to make it to the cock-boat, disarming the copper-skinned pirate along the way by shearing off his sword-wielding hand. The man fell screaming to the deck, holding his forearm as blood spurted from the open wound. Rolfe tore the top off the compartment and grabbed the supply pack. He stuffed the land map inside and draped the pack over his torso. Just then the aforementioned hummingbird appeared before him in a panicked frenzy.

"Flit, we're escaping! Pocahontas is in the water. Tell Meeko and Percy to jump in and follow us to shore!" John Rolfe decreed, running down the length of the ship towards the stern at breakneck speed. Flit buzzed alongside him, taking a moment to glance into the waters beyond the ship. When the hummingbird spotted Pocahontas swimming away, he turned back to the diplomat and gave a nod. As Rolfe reached the anchor, there was more clattering from down below. The men in the sleeping quarters had been roused. He swallowed hard, realizing with apprehension just how pissed the pirates were going to be very soon. Rolfe had to get away, so he kicked back the anchor stop and made straight for the starboard side. The anchor fell heavily, splashing in the dark depths.

Just then, Captain Flame emerged from his quarters, cutting off the diplomat's path. "What the bloody hell is going on?!" the crotchety Irishman raged, pissed to be awoken at such an hour. He met ice-cold eyes with John Rolfe. The Englishman gritted his teeth in fear and backed away. From what Rolfe had seen of Flame's fencing abilities during practice, the scarred man was not one to be crossed or to cross blades with.

"It's the cabin boy, captain!" cried one of the ornery crewmen. "Not a young boy at all but a full-grown wench! They have deceived us, the two of them!"

John Rolfe did not wait for Flame's response to the shocking news. He sheathed his sword, turned tail, and dove over the port side of the ship. The Englishman used the weight of the sword to dive deep down under the ship's hull, passing beneath the keel to the starboard side. This worked as a momentary distraction when the flustered crewmen focused their attention on the port side, thinking he would resurface there.

"COWARD!" Flame bellowed, racing over to the port side. He emptied the bullets in his pistol into the black water. When he ran out, he shrieked in fury and chucked the whole gun into the sea. "Where is he?!" Flame roared, clinging to the rail as he waited for John Rolfe to surface. He grabbed an underling by the shirt collar and threw him overboard. "Find him or it be thirty lashes for ye!" he shouted as the man fell screaming. The captain turned dangerous eyes to the rest of the crew. "Riggers up to the riggings! The deserters are fools if they think they can out-swim us! Turn this ship landward!"

"The anchor's down, sir!" another crewman reported.

"Cut it loose, Rumtugger!" Flame charged, shouting to the man nearest the anchor. When the young pirate took too long to saw through the thick rope with his dagger, Flame plodded over angrily and sheared through the man's belly with his sword. He was about to slice the anchor line next, but he suddenly felt intense pain in his ankle. If not for his own screaming, he would have heard Percy snarling at him as the pug dog tried to pull him away from the anchor line. Flame collapsed and dropped his sword. Meeko snatched it and dragged it out of reach, causing the captain to let loose a furious howl.

Another pirate called over to Captain Flame from the starboard side. "He's swum under the ship, captain! John Rolfe is on the starboard side! They're heading for shore! I can't even see the wench anymore, too dark! She can't have gotten far though!"

Flame kicked Percy off of him with a ferocious growl. "Shoot 'im in his bloody head!"

The pirate pulled out his pistol and took aim. Then he screamed as Percy sank sharp teeth into his calf, accidentally dropping the gun overboard in the process. The pug retreated before his latest victim could even spot him. "What in the—?" the man muttered, peering around. When he met eyes again with the infuriated captain, he found himself the subject of a deadly glare. Seeing the death warrant in Flame's eyes, the doomed man dove off the side of the ship himself to flee. The possibility of attack by hostile natives was a dream compared to Flame's guaranteed Irish temper any day. Other men began shooting into the water to appease Flame. John Rolfe dove down deep to avoid the bullets zipping by.

The riggers had taken position, adjusting the sails as ordered. This positive development only improved Flame's mood slightly. He grabbed a dead pirate's rapier by the hilt and severed the anchor's line. The ship bobbed up free of the tether as the bow started to turn toward land in the nighttime breeze. "Full sail ahead!" Flame shouted.

John Rolfe resurfaced for a gasping breath much farther away. Meanwhile, Meeko and Percy dove off the starboard side to join their human friends, just barely avoiding the slice of swords. Flit buzzed around a few heads to make the gunners' aims less accurate. "What the bloody hell is that thing?!" cried a one-eyed pirate. Due to Flit's harassment, he stumbled back, tripped on a crate, and fell backwards over the railing.

The Powhatan princess stopped swimming and pivoted back toward the pirate ship, relieved to finally see John Rolfe gliding through the water toward her. She spotted Meeko and Percy closer to the vessel, treading water in her direction as well.

"Drop your rifles, men! Those two have given up the right to a quick death. I want them both captured alive!" Captain Flame wailed, jumping up onto the bow railing and pointing his sword in the direction of the fugitives. Even John Rolfe had paddled far away enough to have faded into the blackness. "I want the Brit and Injun wench back onboard in less than fifteen minutes or I'll have the lot of you flogged!"

"Aye, sir!" returned all the men in unison. The ship began gaining speed as the crew worked together to steer the vessel toward the dark landmass in the distance.

John Rolfe swam with all his might, not even once glancing backward. Before he knew it, he bumped into another human body. "Pocahontas, what are you doing here? You should've gotten much farther away by now!" he exclaimed, spitting water.

"I had to wait for you!" the young woman insisted.

John Rolfe shot a glance over his shoulder and started to panic as the ship turned toward them. "They're going to gain on us fast!" he contended, coughing up some water.

Pocahontas recognized quickly that John Rolfe appeared to be having trouble staying afloat. "What's wrong?" she asked, grabbing hold of his shirt.

"The sword, it's weighing me down! I'm so tired. Pocahontas, you must go on ahead. Get to safety no matter what happens!" he cried, gurgling as water rushed into his mouth. "Travel south to the bay and find St. Augustine. Tell them you're a British ally!"

Pocahontas narrowed her eyes at John Rolfe and reached down to his waist, using her machete to cut through the leather scabbard belt. The sword and its paraphernalia dropped to the seabed before Rolfe could even catch it. "I needed that, Pocahontas! I can't fight them off without it. Now, we're completely defenseless against them!"

"What we need is to get to shore," Pocahontas argued, tugging him along. "Come on!"

"I can't make it. I don't have the strength. I'll distract them while you escape!" John Rolfe replied, kicking alongside her weakly. "And I'm bleeding. Sharks will come. You have to get away from me while you still have the chance. Please, Pocahontas! I couldn't bear it if they caught you. I know what they'll do. Please, get out of here!"

"No!" Pocahontas shouted, gasping when John Rolfe sank a bit below the surface. She grabbed a hold of him and pulled him back up. Not a trained warrior, the diplomat was unused to such exertion. While he had performed heroically at the outset, he could not keep it up without years of proper training—which he lacked.

As the ship drew closer, the torchlights began to illuminate them once more. "I've spotted 'em, men! Prepare the net!" Captain Flame triumphantly declared.

"Demon fish!" howled a pirate, the same blond who had gotten himself beaten by the bosun weeks back. He pointed with a shaky finger at something churning in the waters off the starboard side. "They's going to eat the bottom out from under the ship!"

Captain Flame rolled his eyes and grabbed another man's pistol. He shot at the blond, who ducked for cover behind the mast. Pocahontas glanced around and spotted the black fins in the water. There were about three between them and the ship. The young woman gasped and held onto John Rolfe in fright. She had not been prepared to trust the word of Willem Gallows entirely, but neither was she prepared to have her head bitten off.

Pocahontas heaved in terror when something large and slippery rose up between her legs, lifting her and John Rolfe clean out of the salt water. Rolfe's body was semi-limp, so she held him in place with his belt and grasped the animal's protruding black fin behind her to keep them from sliding off. Gasping for breath, Pocahontas met eyes with the majestic creature as the ocean water began to rush by. They were moving—fast. The killer whale was carrying them away. But where was it taking them and why?

Flame peered down into the waters and spotted his quarry moving away. With the whale camouflaged in the night-black water, it appeared to the crew that Pocahontas and John Rolfe had begun to swim at an inhuman speed. "Witchcraft!" one of the men cried.

"After them!" Captain Flame commanded the crew, ignoring the superstitious idiots on the ship. "Turn the sails, they're headed northwest! Don't let them escape!"

"The winds aren't favorable, cap'n! We won't go very fast!" another replied.

Flame spun around to gun the naysayer down but discovered he was out of bullets again. He chucked the gun into the water with a snarl. "I'll get them! I'll get them if it's the last thing I ever do! NO ONE MAKES A FOOL OF FINLEY FLAME!"

…

The Powhatan woman had no idea where they were heading. From John Rolfe's weak movements beneath her, he seemed to be conscious but completely drained and disoriented. Pocahontas's left arm got tired from holding onto the animal's fin, so she switched to her right arm and used her left to hold onto Rolfe instead.

Though Pocahontas's sight had gone black when the ship's firelight disappeared, her night vision came alive after some time in the darkness. The millions of stars above bounced off the gentle waves as they rode along. She was unsure how long they had been on the orca's back, her body trembling in exhaustion. When she heard a bark and glanced to her left, she saw Meeko and Percy riding merrily along on their own cetacean. Flit zipped by in the air. Pocahontas smiled at them. Then she sent a prayer of thanks to the Great Spirit for watching over them all and leaving no one behind.

She felt so peaceful that she let her eyes fall closed. She did not open them again until she felt something bump her leg. Jolting in surprise, Pocahontas realized she had almost let go of John Rolfe as he began sliding away. She strengthened her grip on his belt, pulling him back, and then discovered that they had come to a stop in calm water.

The whale ejected water loudly from its blowhole. Reaching to see what had touched her, Pocahontas's hand came into contact with solid dirt and gnarled roots. She glanced about to reorient herself to her surroundings. Meeko and Percy hopped off their own orca's back onto the solid land just up ahead. The water was surprisingly deep here, though the mangroves kept the dirt from eroding along with the seabed below.

Pocahontas thought she heard John Rolfe groan. She grabbed a firm hold of one of the thicker roots, letting their bodies slip off the orca's back into the warm salt water. She held the Englishman's head above the surface as he sluggishly groped around the projecting mangrove roots. "Where… where am I?" he murmured in a very faint voice.

"Safe, I think," Pocahontas softly replied. When he got a solid grip on the roots, she lifted herself out of the water and sat down with her legs folded beneath her. Turning back, she tugged on John Rolfe's shirt as he shakily tried to crawl onto land as well. They were having a great deal of difficulty until the porpoise came around again and used its beak to lift the diplomat's rump clean out of the water, thrusting him right up onto the land. With a grunt, Rolfe collapsed belly-down on the firm earth as the animal lingered.

Pocahontas placed her hand on the whale's snout as John Rolfe breathed steadily, resting to regain his strength. "Thank you," she whispered to the gentle giant. The creature made a repetitive clicking noise and bobbed its head up and down in acknowledgment. As the aquatic mammal withdrew, Pocahontas's hand lost contact with it. She stared out after the beneficent pod as they reversed direction and disappeared below the dark waves.