Adding to The Victims If She Dare To Interrupt

There were nervous muttering, tongues licking suddenly dry lips, and a cautious backward movement from De Lessops men. Captain Fortune nodded to his men, and they carried the trunks aboard, sporting broad grins.

I was anxious for a bit, captain, Rodney said, keeping a now merry eye on De Lessops's crew. I should have known to trust you. You have gotten us out of a more difficult trouble than this.

Should we take the keg of rum , too, captain? One of the crew men asked hopefully.

Fortune laughed and shook his head. " No. We will not be greedy - or unfair. Mayhap these fellows will remember that while they consume this keg. Captain Fortune never takes more -nor less- than he has bargained for.

When the last of his crew had clambered over to the other side, Jeffrey bounded across to his ship, calling out to his men to cast off the grappling lines and to hoist the sails. Sluggard they be, lads, but by the time they bring their cannons to bear I want to be showing a fine pair of heels. Our stem is but narrow tragedy for such poor gunners, but I prefer to be out of range.

Captain Fortune glanced about the deck. The cargo from the sunken Dutch ship was strewn about, but his lads were busy stowing it away. The cargo had been divided between the crews but it still has to be sold before a proper division could be made among his own men. But that would have to wait until they reached a safe port. For now, he had business below that could wait no longer.

Raven took a deep calming breath and forced herself to sit ramrod straight on the bunk. she must not give way despair! Jeffrey Fortune did not yet know who his captive was. Her name would be in the ship manifest, but Uncle Samuel was her mother's brother. His last name was not the same as hers. The chance was slight that Captain Fortune would know that Raven Winthrop was the niece of Samuel Parkinson. She must make sure to keep it a secret from him by all means. Whatever his usual treatment of female prisoners, it could not be as bad as the vengeance he would take on the niece of the mast he hated most in life, his former master.

She looked down at her torn bodice,felt the disarray of her hair. whatever his treatment of her, she would be better able to face him if she were more presentable. She stood up and looked around. The spacious cabin was Spanish with heavy ornate carving on the beams and rich velvet hangings around the bed. The bed itself was unusually large, easily big enough for two. She blushed at the thought, hastily turning her eyes away from the bed There was a large seat across the stern beneath a row of four large windows. Under the seat were shelves filled with rolled charts. Large built in cabinets flanked the dow and to the right of the door was a small screened area in which she found toilet facilities, a basin and sewer water, and much to her surprise, a small bathtub.

A long hot soak would have done much to restore her but there was not enough water in the pitcher, nor was it hot. But even a quick wash would be welcome. So she poured the water into the basin.

Clean,soft towels were close at hand and a white nearly scentless soap. She repaired the ravages of her capture as best as she could by taking a quick bath, she borrowed a comb and a brush she found to strengthen her hair, all the while wondering how an escaped slave had managed to steal so fine a ship. A traitor he may be but at least he preyed upon the Spanish enemies of England as well as her Dutch friends.

The sound of hurrying feet and the shuffle and scrape of cargo continued to reach her ears. Shortly, she heard shouted orders, the creak of block and tackle, and the crisp snap of sails opened to the wind. Then the motion of the ship changed. She knew they were under way, though her destination was yet unknown.

There was nothing she could do in her present predicament but to pray and wait, though that's not going to be easy. Near the window was a large table spread with charts, navigating instruments, and a few scattered volumes. Hoping to distract her thoughts from wondering, she approached the table and picked up a book.

She had just opened the book when she heard the first scream. She gasped, and with a start, clutched the book, almost screaming herself. It came again followed by a screaming herself. It came again followed by a stream of Dutch flavored English alternatively cursing and begging for mercy. her heart thudded and her eyes widened in horror. She put her hands over her ears but could not keep out the renting sounds.

But with the next onslaught of screens, she knew she had to do something, she must act, she may not be able to help, she may only get herself into more danger, but she knew she couldn't keep to the relative safety of the cabin while those horrifying sounds continued. She wrenched open the door, relieved to find it unlocked, and stepped into the passageway. The sounds were coming from below. Before she could change her mind, she hurried down the narrow steps, through an open door, and stopped in shock at the hell her eyes beheld.

She flew to the door but paused with one hand on the latch, the other hand still holding the book to her breast. If pirates were torturing the Dutch crew, what could she do to stop it? What would prevent them from adding her to the victims? If she were to interrupt them.