Chapter 1: The Barque

27 October, 1686 Evening

The Maidens Revenge was under her main-sail and two jibs, and the beautiful white canvas shone in the sun like snow or silver, her sails were drawing and she was lying a course south by southwest just off the western coast of Cuba sailing toward Port Royal.

Teresa was alone at the wheel, the Schooner in her control. It was a scene of quiet splendor, the sun partially obscured by misty clouds was already well down in the western sky, with the wind producing white foam-cresting waves. The distant headlands appeared shadowlike and gray through the vapor, while the waters beyond took on the tint of purple shade. As she stood there, grasping the wheel spokes within her own thoughts Teresa suddenly became alert when the swift boat leaped forward through the water, leaning recklessly over before the force of the wind, and the previous numbing sense of daydreaming servitude left her in a new return of seaman responsibility as she righted the ship.

The Maidens Revenge responded to the helm gallantly, the spreading canvas above standing out like the wake of broad gull wings spreading far astern. Not another sail appeared across the surface of waters, the only other vessel visible being a dim outline close in against that far-away headland toward which Teresa had been instructed to steer so they could follow the coast. Teresa stared at this indistinct object, at first believing it to be a wreck, but finally distinguishing the bare masts of a medium-sized bark rigged vessel, evidently riding at anchor only a few hundred yards off shore.

Satisfied after stomping her foot sharply on the deck in order to let Carmen know she was wanted Teresa's glance shifted from the Barque to her our own decks, feeling a seaman's admiration for the cleanliness of the vessel, and the shipshape condition of everything aboard. The decks had more the appearance of a pleasure yacht, than that of a pirate Schooner, although the broad beam, and commodious hatches spoke of ample storage below and within the forecastle.The deck planks were scrubbed clean, and the hand-rails had been polished until they shone. Looking forward she assumed Ihon was busily engaged in the cook's galley, based on the thin column of black smoke pouring out through the tin funnel.

When Carmen arrived with Claire in tow Teresa pointed out the position of the still distant Barque, which was by this time plainly visible off the port quarter. Carmen stood taller in order to see better, and then the two women crossed the deck to a position only a few feet from where Teresa stood at the wheel, and remained there, staring out across the intervening water.

"Surely a strange place in which to anchor," said Carmen at last, breaking the silence, her hand shading her eyes. "Bark rigged, and very heavily sparred. Seems to be all right though. What do you two make of it?"

"Decidedly Dutch I would say," Claire answered slowly with her gaze on the craft, "to judge from the shape of her lines, and the size of her spars. They seem quite at home there, with all their washing hanging out to dry. Certainly not a usual anchorage?"

"No, nor a particularly safe one either. There are some very heavy seas off that point," Carmen answered.

"That's why I stomped on the deck," Teresa responded, "it just didn't look right to me, you know, anchored out there like that."

"You're right. Thanks Teresa." Carmen told the girl then turning to Claire she said, "Clair, go get the others and make sure they're well armed, I believe we'll hail this fellow, and find out what he's doing in there. Teresa, port your helm a little, and run down as close as seems safe, until I hail him."

"Aye, aye Captain," Teresa responded adjusting the ship's heading.

Claire nodded then quickly headed off to collect the rest of the crew.

"So, what have we here?" Scarlet asked as both he a Constance, armed to the teeth approached Carmen.

"Don't know," Carmen answered him, "but I thought it deserved a closer look."

"Hmmm..." Constance mused while looking over the anchored vessel, "strange place to harbor."

By then the rest of the crew had assembled on deck gazing in surprise at the Barque just as the Maidens Revenge came about slowly, tossing a little by the heavy swells as the ponderous boom swung around permitting the loosened canvas to flap against the ropes, until the Schooner finally steadied onto its new tack.

The distance to be covered was not great, and in less than ten minutes, they were drawing in toward the high stern of the anchored vessel. She was larger than Carmen had first thought a lumping craft, bark rigged, with lower spars the heaviest she had ever seen. No evidence of life appeared on board, although everything looked shipshape below and aloft, and a rather extensive wash flapped in the wind forward, indicating a generous crew. There was no flag at the mizzen to signify nationality, yet there was a peculiar touch to the rig which confirmed in Carmen's mind the truth of Clair's guess that she was indeed originally Dutch. A moment later that supposition was confirmed as Carmen's eyes made out the name painted across the stern, DE DROOM OF ROTTERDAM.

Both Carmen and Scarlet leaned far out across the rail, as they swept in closer, their eyes searching the Barque's decks for any evidence of human presence aboard, but neither one spotted any sign of life.

"See anything?" Carmen asked Scarlet looking over toward him.

Scarlet shook his head, "nothing, but it's strange how she's bark rigged so she can sail with fewer crew members than a ship rigged craft, and yet they have enough washed clothes hanging out for a hundred or more."

"Let's run out the cannons just in case Aba," Carmen called over her shoulder to the big man.

"Aye," the black man answered then he, Isabel, Constance and the two brothers quickly moved toward the guns.

A hundred feet distant, Teresa held the dancing Schooner to mere steerage-way, while Carmen hailed in a voice which went roaring across the water, "Ahoy, the Barque! De Droom!"

A full faced, red headed man with a thick dark orange beard thrust his head up above the after rail, and answered, using English, yet with a faint accent which was not Dutch. What he looked like below the shoulders could not be discerned.

"Well, what do you want? Is anything wrong?"

"No, not aboard here," returned Carmen, a bit puzzled at the reply, "We ran down to see if you were in any trouble. This is a rather strange place to anchor. What are you Dutch?"

The man waved his hands in a gesture indicating tenseness, "Ah... yes that's right Dutch. We're out of Rotterdam as you can see by the name of this ship. But we've not sailed from there this time... no. We've come here from the Barbadoes," he explained brokenly, "with cane-sugar, an' hides. We're waiting here for our agent."

"But why anchor in a place like this? Why not go around the point into the bay where the sea is calmer?"

"Why here? Because I'm afraid my crew might swim ashore. They are west Indy blacks, and would escape at the slightest opportunity."

In spite of Teresa's efforts the two vessels were drifting rapidly apart, and this last explanation came to them over the water in a faint thread of sound barely discernible.

Teresa asked Carmen if she should tack back, but Carmen shook her head, and in a moment more they were beyond reach of the voice.

Carmen remained beside the rail, staring out across the widening water, clearly dissatisfied, but finally waved her hand in a command to Teresa to resume their original course. Shortly after she crossed the deck, and stood there beside Scarlet, still watchful of the dwindling vessel already far astern.

"What do you make of her, Jack?" she asked finally, turning slightly to glance at his face. "I believe that fellow lied."

"So do I," Scarlet answered promptly. "Whatever he may be, he's no peaceful trader. That Barque is Dutch built all right, and no doubt once sailed out of Rotterdam; but that red head's accent is not Dutch."

"Damn me, that's just what I was thinking," Carmen responded.

"And that's not all of it. If he was loaded with sugar cane, his ship wouldn't be riding nearly so high out of the water. That Barque was in ballast, or I miss my guess. Besides, if he was what he said, where is his crew? There wasn't a single man that looked up over the rail beside his while we were hailing them and that isn't ordinary. Even a West Indies black has curiosity. I tell you any men on board that hooker had orders to keep down."

Carmen bit down on her lower lip as her eyes shifted from the distant vessel to Constance and Isabel who were now making their way from the guns toward her and Jack.

"Yes, I do believe you're right Jack," she admitted frankly, "there's certainly something wrong there."

The sun was rapidly sinking below the fringe of the tall trees on the mainland, and a fresh breeze held favorably as the Maidens Revenge made excellent progress, the water being much smoother since the ship had rounded the point and thereby well beyond view of the anchored Barque. All around was a scene of loneliness, and when any of their searching eyes sought the near-by shore it saw only a stretch of uninhabited wilderness, densely forested, and the broad extent of the Bay, across which no white gleam of sail was visible.

It was dusk when the Maidens Revenge finally drew into the bay, set anchor and made fast. Ihon announced supper ready and the call to supper was quite welcome. The entire crew gathered in the dinning area built in the forecastle center to eat. After everyone was seated Ihon and Teresa served with some skill then they also took a place at the table. Discovering they were hungry, all did full justice to the well-cooked fare while speaking of the weather and the strangeness of the Barque they had witnessed earlier.

"You did not like the look o' things, Captain?" Ihon asked Carmen referring to the Barque.

"Both Jack and I feel there's more to that ship than we were told. We'll need to keep a sharp eye tonight I should think... just in case," Carmen answered.

Constance washed down a mouthful of fish with lemon water then thoughtfully said, "Well, at least we can be assured that Bass does not have a filthy hand in that Barque lying fast out there."

"Here, here," Claire acknowledged with her wine glass.

"So then Captain, speaking of Bass," Diego interjected while turning toward Carmen, "now that he has been dealt with and having come to know you to be kind and temperate, are you still set on a path of piracy? It would seem to me you're little fitted for such a wicked life as a true pirate."

"Well Diego," Carmen answered sincerely, "there are yet others that still deserve our attention and I have not wavered from my path so much as a thread," then she added with laughter behind her words, "and if need be, you will find I can be just as wicked as anybody."

"I doubt that," said Diego sturdily, "I could not even begin to fathom you cutting down and murdering the innocent? Would you drive them upon an unsteady plank and make them walk into the sea? Could you raise your sword upon the widow and the orphan?"

"Perhaps I should prove my point," returned Carmen jokingly, "by putting you upon a wavering plank and making you walk into the sea."

Now Diego laughed, "And if you were to do so," he said, "you would next jump upon the plank yourself and slide swiftly into the waves, that you might save your poor Spaniard shipmate, thinking he might not be able to swim."

That got everyone around the table into a good fit of laughter.

Once the laughter had died down Carmen said with more seriousness in her voice, "Now Diego as to pirating, having worked in my father's merchant business for many years I learned that unlike my father's company many sea traders frequently act more as smugglers than commercial trading companies. Their trade goods are usually either considered borderline, are actually proscribed, or are extremely unsavory. Heady liquors, dangerous herbs and opiates, and several types of virulent poisons are popular trade goods among the less scrupulous trading companies. Stolen magic items, artworks, and rare treasures are also smuggled to those willing to pay handsomely for them. And despite my own personal distaste of slavery, there are still some trade companies willing to sell the crews or passengers from other trade ships they have sunk or that they have taken captive from barbarian lands to those looking for inexpensive and expendable slaves. Some even snatch children from one city and sell them in another as apprentices. These unprincipled merchant ships I would not hesitate boarding."

"So you see Diego," she continued, "even without letters of marque, piracy can take various forms. Some pirates steal only cargo, freeing the ship and its crew to travel on safely. Some sink the ship, offering membership to those able-bodied sailors who will accept it, and killing the rest, or freeing them at the nearest neutral or friendly port. Others murder all aboard, so that the crime goes forever unreported. I for one, see the Maidens Revenge future to be that of being selective in any ship we plunder which will not require such wickedness as you have previously described. But make no mistake; when called for I'm not a figure of fun."

"Indeed you're not, Captain. I only meant that your heart, though stout, is a tender one," Diego answered rather meekly, feeling his joking may have carried too far.