Chapter 10: Scarlet's story

28 July, 1686 Evening

As the women allowed themselves to be lead away Constance whispered to Carmen, "He does cut quite the handsome figure, does he not?"

"Looks can be deceiving," Carmen whispered back, "keep a 'weather eye open'."

"Allow me to introduce myself," the young man said to the women over his shoulder, removing his hat and bowing gracefully without missing a step, "Jack Scarlet, at your service, currently unwaged, but in the past having crewed on the Satisfaction."

"The Satisfaction!" Carmen exclaimed, "That's Henry Morgan's ship is it not?"

Henry Morgan and his ship the Satisfaction were very well known by everyone. Morgan was one of the most ruthless of privateers, his daring, brutality, and intelligence had made him the most feared, and respected buccaneer on the seas. But, Henry Morgan was not a pirate, a rogue perhaps, but not a pirate. He was a privateer. He held a paper issued by a representative of the English government, the governor of Jamaica, empowering him to fight the Spaniards on England's behalf. His pay was in effect whatever he managed to steal from Spain.

"None other," the young man answered, turning back and tipping his hat once again while looking at Carmen, "but alas, as mentioned, I'm currently unwaged. Ah, here we are," he said entering a tavern called Palm's Ordinary and somewhat off the beaten path, "Please, join me. It is highly unlikely that our friend should seek for us here."

Palm's Ordinary was one of the more high class establishments of its sort, with good tobacco and was said to have the best rum that one ever tasted. There was a garden behind it that, sloping down to the harbor front, was planted thick with palms and ferns grouped into clusters with flowers and plants in-between. There were a number of little tables, some in little grottoes with red and blue and white paper lanterns hung among the foliage, which gentlemen and ladies used sometimes to go out in the evening to sit and drink lime juice and sugar and water, and sometimes a taste of something stronger, and to look out across the water at the shipping in the cool of the night.

Jack Scarlet passed directly through the Ordinary and the garden beyond, and chose a table at the lower end of the garden close to the water's edge, where they would not be easily seen by anyone coming into the place.

The women found the spot pleasant enough, for the land breeze, blowing strong and full, set the leaves of the palm tree above their heads to rattling and clattering continually against the sky, where, the moon then being about full, shone every now and then like blades of steel. The waves also were splashing up against the little landing place at the foot of the garden, sounding very cool in the night, and sparkling all over the harbor where the moon caught the edges of the water. A great many vessels were lying at anchor in their ridings, with the dark, prodigious form of a man-of-war looming up above them in the moonlight.

Then, ordering some rum and water, lime juice, sweet meats and bread, and a pipe of tobacco, Scarlet composed himself, ever watchful for the appearance of those nasty fellows whom he hoped wouldn't think to look for them there.

"I see that you have an eye fixed on the entrance Mr. Scarlet, are you so very concerned that this Broad Ben Sykes will come in search of us?" Constance asked.

Scarlet laughed, "I'm afraid you have smitten him with the fever my lady. But then again, I could easily imagine that both you and your companion have risen the temperature with-in more than one gentleman in your time. Have you not glanced into a mirror? You two are as handsome a pair of femininity as ever I've lay eyes upon. Aye, he will come a looking."

Both women blushed. Constance opened her lips as though it was her intent to respond, then seemed to think better of it and contented herself by nodding her head.

"Now," he said, continuing his address, "I've told you of myself, with whom do I have the distinctive pleasure of dinning with this evening?"

"I am Constance Blanchart, and this is Carmen O' Daire, Captain of the Maidens Revenge, currently anchored in this very harbor."

Carmen looked curiously at Constance. She had never thought of herself as Captain before!

"Indeed," he said sounding impressed. "I've heard rumors over rum concerning the Maidens Revenge, all false to be certain."

"And just what is it said to be rumored of her Mr. Scarlet?" Carmen asked casually.

"Jack please," he responded. "It's said that the Maidens Revenge is none other than the Angry Whore, commandeered out of Port Royal right out from under the nose of the most wicked, profane wretch of an animal, Bloody Bass."

"And Jack, if these rumors where to be true?" Carmen questioned.

"Then I would take the hand of those that seized her into mine as a friend, and beg to sign on immediately," he responded filling his rum mug once again.

"Why so resolute to sign on?" asked Constance.

"Because if the rumors were to be believed, Bass will unquestionably seek out the Angry Whore and any of those that appropriated her, and I would offer a healthy limb to have but the merest chance of personally sending him to Davy Jones' locker," he answered sternly.

"It sounds as though you've had a little more than a set-to with this Bloody Bass," Carmen commented regarding him sharply and keenly.

"To say the very least," Jack confirmed before taking a long pull at his drink. "Fifteen years ago he murdered my father and then raped my mother, thereafter planning to sell her into slavery after he became bored with her himself. She took her own life before he had the opportunity to sell her and although I was but ten at the time I swore, with the utmost vehemence, that either he or I would have to leave this earth."

"So then, it's been fifteen long years that you have been waiting for satisfaction?" Constance asked concerned with the truth of his story, questioning why a man would wait so very long to seize revenge if his hatred were in fact so fervent?

"I trust you're questioning my candor," he answered laughing, but with a sad catch in his voice, "Allow me to give detail. After the death of my parents I stayed with a distant aunt until I was between thirteen and fourteen years old when I was taken into employment in the counting house of a Mr. Robert Wellington, a well-known West India merchant. It was the kindness of this good man that not only found a place for me in the counting house, but advanced me so fast that by the time I was but seventeen years old I had made four voyages as both hand and supercargo to the West Indies in Mr. Wellington's ship, the "Brand Mary", then soon after I was eighteen I undertook a fifth. After this fifth voyage having gained both experience behind the mast, and the coming of age, I quit the counting house and put into action the settling of scores. Knowing that Bass was a slaver, and also knowing that Captain Henry Morgan, most famous of all the buccaneers despised slavers, I signed onto the Satisfaction with the sole expectation of convincing Morgan to go after Captain Shadrach Bass, but alas, this was not my destiny to be had. You see, I had but served upon the Satisfaction a scanty six months before the good Captain Morgan had me marooned."

"Marooned!" both Constance and Carmen exclaimed as one.

Marooning was one of the most effective instruments of punishment or revenge. If a pirate or privateer broke one of the many rules which governed the particular band to which he belonged, he was marooned. Even the pirate captain himself, if he displeased his followers by the severity of his rule, was in danger of having the same punishment visited upon him which he had perhaps more than once visited upon another.

The process of marooning was as simple as terrible. A suitable place was chosen, generally some desert isle as far removed as possible from the pathway of commerce, and the condemned man was rowed from the ship to the beach. Out he was tossed upon the sand spit, a gun, a half dozen bullets, a few pinches of powder, and a bottle of water were chucked ashore after him, and away rowed the boat's crew back to the ship, leaving the poor wretch alone to rave away his life in madness, or to sit sunken in his gloomy despair till death mercifully released him from torment. It rarely if ever happened that anything was known of him after having been marooned. A boat's crew from some vessel, sailing by chance that way, might perhaps find a few chalky bones bleaching upon the white sand in the garish glare of the sunlight, but that was all.

"Aye, marooned," he answered, "on a small island you wouldn't give a spit for, Ah... please forgive me my language."

They both nodded.

"Pray tell, and for how long were you abandoned on this island, and however did you manage to quit it?" Constance asked with keen interest.

"Five years," he answered almost too softly for them to hear and his expression reflected what he was thinking, back onto something most horrific.

"Dear God!" Carmen exclaimed.

"Aye, five years of collecting rain water or drinking from the foul pond at its center and what victuals I could acquire from the sea and the few trees which were familiar to the island. Fortunately for me this particular island was also the breeding grounds for both the sea turtle and some unfamiliar variety of bird," he told them in a much brighter tone.

"And of your liberation from this island?" Carmen questioned.

"I was rescued by the merest of chance I dare say," he answered, "A very foul wind for the dear merchant vessel "Lynn Dowel", and a very favorable one for me became my merciful savior. The Lynn Dowel was swept well off her course and almost came to ground upon my little island. By then, I looked more lifeless than alive to be sure, but the Lynn Dowel's good crew took me aboard, feed and clothed me then dropped me off at the nearest port of call to my liking."

He looked up.

Constance had been rapt, involved in his story but feigned a dismissive attitude, "That's very interesting, but please do tell us of the circumstance pertaining to why Captain Morgan would issue such a dismal order as marooning in the first place."

"That is the cruelest gash of all," he told them closing his deep blue eyes as if trying to recall what had happened before continuing, "It was that Morgan had a young wife of seventeen in Charles Towne by the name of Mary, who made the sixth that he had in various ports here and there in the world. This Mary had the necessity to travel several miles north to visit a sick relative and Morgan bid me to travel with her as both companion and protector. I did so without question but it was to both my fortune and misfortune that Mary became infatuated with me, had I been older things could have turned different, but I myself had also become entirely enmeshed in the toils of this fair siren and so I allowed her to take me to her bed. However, not being in a position to consummate our relationship any farther than as occasional bed partners, Mary became enraged and told her husband of our affair, indicating that it was in fact I that had seduced her. The balance is history. But let it be known, I harbor no ill will for either Mary or Henry Morgan. I alone brought it on to myself."