Gunpowder & Gold (Justified Treason, Book 4): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories Read online

  Gunpowder & Gold

  Justified Treason

  Book 4

  CRISTI TAIJERON

  Copyright © 2015 Cristi Taijeron

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-1514857908

  ISBN-10: 1514857901

  Edited by Sarah Heath & Janine Lieber

  Cover Artwork by Megan Dinsdale and Cristi Taijeron

  Reign-Creative.com

  Interior design by Cristi Taijeron

  Endlesshorizondesigns.co

  To Barnabas Thompson

  My Pirate Librarian

  Your passion for piracy on the high seas has been like a wild wind feeding the fire of my imagination. Studying pirate history for longer than I have been alive, you have readily shared your vast knowledge on the era, helping me to bring my dream alive in the light of true history. Of the many extraordinary offerings you have brought to my tales, I will never forget the day we sat down with our maps on the desk, and plotted the great sea battle that takes place in this book. It truly felt like we were in Reid’s cabin on Broken Shell, plotting these buccaneer battle tactics for a war we were about to wage ourselves.

  Your dramatic visions and outright reenactments of some of the crucial scenes in this story have brought so much life, and color to my world, that I will never be able to thank you enough for sailing alongside me as you have. The friendship between your character, Black James Reid, and my Mason Bentley, is a testament to this passion that you and I share. For while discussing ‘important pirate matters’ concerning history, fiction, and the ageless emotions of the rebellious soul, you have become like a brother to me. And just like the Brethren of the Coast, we will forever stand side by side under the black flag.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This story came along with the help of many creative and knowledgeable minds. I want to thank you all for being the wonderful people you are and for helping my biggest daydream come true.

  My Husband, Shaun Beyond being an awesomely supportive husband, you also have some bad ass ideas when it comes to fight scenes and battle tactics. Thank you for being a fierce protector and a stunning lover. None of this would be possible without you.

  My Parents, Joe & Kim Thank you for always supporting me in everything I do. And a special thanks to you, Papa, for deciding how to handle the Spanish prisoners and for thinking up that crafty aversion tactic for seizing the ship.

  My Friends & Editors, Sarah& Janine In this book, you two went beyond the usual awesome emotional guidance for my characters, and guided me. Thanks for not only reminding me that I can do this, but for helping me to do it. You not only edited under a harsh deadline while dealing with an overly emotional author, but you reminded me that writing is fun. It is a pleasure and a blessing having you both as friends and business partners.

  Stephan Thank you for sharing your exceptionally awesome pirate character, Voodoo Doubloon. His shadowy persona made for a dangerous villain and inspired a whirlwind of spookily threatening scenes. I also must thank you for beta reading this tale under such short notice, and for offering the foreign translations that bring world traveled flair to all of my pirate stories. Your support assures me that the effort I put in pays off.

  Christopher Chase For sea battles, fist fights, and all-around brutality; I can always count on you to bring the grit to life in these tales. Whether I am asking you for historic facts, or seeking approval on my attempts to keep things cutthroat, I appreciate your knowledge as much as I enjoy our friendship. Thank you for the support and inspiration.

  Chelda It’s wonderful to hear about the things you see in my characters and especially helpful when you notice things that even I glanced over. In this story, you offered the inspiring words that kept the love story intact. And I am sure Charlotte and Sterling thank you for that as much as I do.

  Megan Dinsdale, Author of Finding EdenThank you for helping me with the cover art, over and over. You are the best.

  Gitana You are the perfect image of beauty and bad-assery and I am honored to have your image in place of Charlotte on the cover.

  PS BartletteThere are not enough variants of the word gratitude in the thesaurus to express the appreciation I have for our friendship. You understand the ups and downs of the book writing rollercoaster like nobody else, and for this project in particular, I am extra thankful for the moments that you rode beside me and reminded me that we would soon enough reach the safe harbor.

  Craig ScottMy imaginary friends had a much nicer holiday during their careening because of the pictures and knowledge you shared with me about the island of Virgin Gorda. Thank you for helping me bring that lovely place to life.

  ToriThanks for always being there and for inspiring some of the small, but significant details that connected this one with the Uncharted Secrets series.

  Mannie Thank you for the brutal details that intensified the fight scenes, and for helping to bring the party to life on Tortuga. I also appreciate you taking the time to beta read this thing so quickly and thoroughly. It is always a thrill to sail with Manimal.

  Pyrate Noah EadeThe information you shared on the topic of historic Cannabis and tobacco, including the mention of Moroccan hashish, helped me to bring those scenes to life in the light of true history. Thank you.

  Thanks to all the real life pirates who invaded my story.

  George Brown as Leo Relando.

  Joe Giordano as Seminole Joe.

  Jim Hawke as the sea cook, Jim Hawke.

  Inappropriate Jon Janes as the master carpenter, Inappropriate Jon.

  Bob Deeck as the gambler, Black Bob.

  Patrick Dirty Razack as Dirty.

  Pirate Peggy as the barmaid, Pirate Peggy.

  Bill Sudbury as Henry Morgan’s nephew, William Morgan.

  All of your stories and unique pirate personas added to the color of this vibrant tale. Thank you for sailing this pirate journey with me.

  CREDITS

  In researching the history and information for this project, I want to give credit to the following books, authors, and websites:

  Books

  How History’s Greatest Pirates Pillaged, Plundered, And Got Away With It

  By Benerson Little

  Under The Black Flag By David Cordingly

  A General History Of The Pirates Daniel DeFoe,

  Caribbean By James A. Michener

  The Pirate Ships 1660-1730 By Angus Konstam

  Pirates Of The Spanish Mai. American Heritage Junior Library

  Pirate (DK Eyewitness Books Series) By Richard Platt

  The History Of Pirates: From Privateers To Outlaws By Allison Lassieur

  Pirate Gear: Cannons, Swords, And The Jolly Roger By Liam O'Donnell.

  THE HOLY BIBLE

  Websites

  http://whydah.com/

  http://kingsforgeandmuzzleloading.com/

  http://www.loyalistarms.freeservers.com/pirategoods.htm

  https://www.facebook.com/iamafreeprince

  https://www.facebook.com/Leftcoastprivateers

  http://gitanacosmetic.com/

  https://www.facebook.com/MischiefMistress

  https://www.facebook.com/ValhallaPirates

  https://www.facebook.com/richard.lanni

  http://www.cindyvallar.com/pirates.html

  http://thepiratesrealm.com


  http://privateerdragons.com

  http://caribbean-pirates.com

  http://www.gentlemenoffortune.com

  http://thepirateking.com

  Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid.

  AUTHOR’S nOTE

  Endless Horizon Pirate Stories are a series of fictional tales based on the true history of piracy in the 17th century Caribbean.

  Being a rebel soul all of my life, I have always been enamored by the power and freedom expressed through sea-ridden piracy. My interest in this particular era deepened after visiting the Caribbean as a teenager, but the true obsession took hold once I began researching information for these stories. Delving into history books, boarding tall ships, interviewing sailors, blacksmiths, and warriors, I have found the facts to be far more fascinating than I could have ever imagined.

  Beyond my interest in the era, this story was largely inspired by the timeless power of love. Throughout the centuries, the law of man has divided people between social status, skin color, and religion, yet the power of love has struggled, suffered, and prevailed against these manmade divides in the most beautiful and unexpected ways. Combining these relentlessly inspiring elements of fact and fiction into the adventure of this forbidden love story, I strive to honor the brutal reality of the true history, while still entertaining the romanticized allure of piracy on the high seas.

  Walls collapse and worlds collide within love’s will to conquer, and with no way to tame the rebellion it sometimes inspires, it seems that perhaps love is the greatest pirate of all.

  -Cristi Taijeron-

  Feather in the Wind

  I

  PHOENIX

  1

  My Side Of The Fire

  2

  Damnation Seize My Soul

  3

  For The Love Of Rum

  II

  THE DEVIL’S DUNGEON

  4

  Damn Ghost Stories

  5

  High As The Clouds

  6

  In The Shadows

  III

  BURNING TIME & BRIDGES

  7

  Special Place In Hell

  8

  Smoldering Dreams

  9

  Midnight’s Secrets

  IV

  GUNPOWDER & GOLD

  10

  Drinking With A Ghost

  11

  Gold They Will Never Touch

  12

  Worth Dying For

  V

  WHERE YOUR TREASURE IS

  13

  As You Wish

  14

  Scarred For Life

  15

  Speed, Strength, & Loyalty

  16

  No Amount Of Gold

  For Where Your Treasure Is,

  There Will Your Heart Be Also

  Matthew 6:21

  Caribbean Sea

  Winter of 1668

  PART I

  Phoenix

  Chapter 1

  My Side Of The Fire

  As Told By Charlotte Bentley

  Darkness. I couldn’t see a thing. Where was I? Was I in danger? I was always in danger, so why wouldn’t I be now?

  Lying stiff as a plank, I heard Wicked Rose’s timbers creaking and a ghostly wind howling through the portholes, but I couldn’t open my eyes. Suddenly, I felt heat. It was similar to sunlight, but there was no light to be found. Sitting up slowly, I pried my heavy eyes open just enough to realize I wasn’t on the ship. That must have been a dream. I was in the entryway of a house, but it was too dark to tell whose home it was.

  Lightning flashed outside the large window, giving enough light to show me a stairway. Oh! It was my father’s house. I was home. Home. So thrilled to be surrounded by the peaceful silence of the room, I looked around and wondered why I’d ever left this wonderful place. Relishing the warmth and cleanliness of the beautiful space, I slowly made my way up the stairs. They creaked like the timbers. Wind blew through the open window at the top, causing the sheer white curtain to whip about wildly. Raindrops pounded against the glass, and the shutter beat violently against the window frame. I had to close it before it broke. Everything in this place was too lovely to be damaged.

  Reaching out into the rain, my arm began to hurt. I cried out in pain—the wailing sound released from my lungs harmonized with the ghastly wind. Looking towards the source of my agony I realized my shoulder was bleeding. The pain became too much to bear. I cried out for help. No one answered. No one came for me. I was alone and bleeding everywhere.

  Hunching over in despair, the floor tilted beneath me. Grabbing the rail of the stairway to catch my balance, I found myself back on the ship, and I held tight as the bitch tipped on its side. The water below was thrashing violently. Lightning flashed in the sky. I could hear the deep moaning of the masts as they agonized over the churning sea. The canvas shredded to useless bits right before my eyes. But the wall above me was lined with striped wallpaper and decorated with ornate frames, one of which held my father’s favorite, a portrait of me.

  Amidst the storm, I eyed the painting carefully. My long, golden hair was curled over the shoulder of my blue dress and my powdered face was flawless. Though that girl I knew long ago looked perfectly unscathed, she was crying. The tears she shed flowed down the staircase which was now falling apart—shattering into the darkened surface of the sea. The sea of lava. Hot, molten lava. I could feel the heat singeing my feet, but with the burning pain in my arm, I could no longer hold on. My fingers slipped loose one by one until I lost my grip entirely. On my way to the pits of Hell, I cried out to the girl in the portrait, “I’m sorry!”

  “You have nothing to be sorry about,” Sterling whispered.

  My eyes shot open. I was staring into Sterling’s stunning green eyes. Within his gaze my mind found a moment of clarity. Looking around, I realized I was in his cabin on Wicked Rose. It had just been a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. Covered in sweat, I tried to catch my breath. I couldn’t stop shivering. Startled by the roar of thunder and the way it shook the floor beneath me, I shrieked like a scared little girl.

  “It’s all right, my dove. I promise.” He kissed my forehead. “We’ve cleared the worst of the storm and everything will be fine.”

  “Don’t touch me.” I pushed him away. “It’s too hot. I’m too hot. My arm hurts. I’m thirsty. I need more smoke.”

  He passed me the pipe. Inhaling the flavor of the opium smoke, my senses instantly soothed. It always eased my pain and suppressed my nightmares.

  Snuggling against my pillow, I noticed sunlight seeping through the stern windows. Wanting nothing to do with its brightness or its heat, I hid under the sheets. “Take me away, Lady Opium.” I hummed, and to the tune of her lullaby, I fell asleep without feeling any pain.

  X

  “Come, my love. We’re here.” Sterling lifted me from the bed.

  Feeling the tissues in my shoulder rip and tear like sheets of canvas being battered against the mast, I shrieked, “No. No. Put me down. I don’t want to be here. I hate this place.”

  “It’s beautiful here. You’re going to love it.”

  “No. It’s too bright, and hot, and ugly.” I closed my eyes and tucked into his chest. Though I heard him talking, the words were muffled. There were other voices. They were familiar, and they were loud. Someone was laughing. The sound of water splashing led me to believe we were at sea, but the feel of sunlight beating on my skin made me think we were entering the gates of Hell.

  “Are you demons taking me to Hell?” I mumbled so meekly I could hardly hear myself.

  Beyond the devilish laughter surrounding me, I heard Sterling say something about a beach, but from where I hid inside his coat, I only saw darkness. Losing track of the sounds, I once again found myself in a darkened room. Wait. There was a door. Light shone from under the doorway. I walked towards it. The heat inten
sified with every heavy step I took. I heard Sterling laughing on the other side. He was alive. So was I. We had survived the awful battle!

  Opening the door, I was blinded by light. Squinting from the painful brightness, I opened one eye to see a white sandy beach curving around a turquoise bay. There was a big green mountain protruding up from behind the thick tree line. I thought to myself that it was pretty. But I felt too sick to say so.

  While Sterling carried me across the sand, I drifted in and out of sleep. At one point I awoke to realize I was laying on a blanket in the shade. I heard the sound of a violin playing. Was someone singing? It was Rolland. His voice was as raspy and enchanting as I remembered. The song he sang soothed me back to sleep.

  The next time I awoke, Sterling was carrying me into a tent. Looking around I saw a bed on the floor with a barrel next to it. He laid me down. I cried out in pain.

  After smoking my pipe, the misery soothed. Calm and relaxed in my opium daze, I was able to look around the room. There was a fanciful dining table with a large chandelier hanging overhead. My family was gathered around it, dressed in their best. Springing out of bed, I called for my father. Sitting at the far end of the table, he didn’t hear me.

  “Isaiah! Amos! Jeremiah!” I cried for my brothers. No one answered. I tried to step towards them, calling for their wives and children, but the chains on my ankles were too heavy. Crying and hoping to be seen, I fell to my knees. When I hit the ground, a flame rose through the planks between us. “Father!” I wailed, one last time. Over the sound of the fire eating the wood, they never heard an uttered word. From the pitiful place on my side of the fire, I watched them all walk away.