Changing Tides Page 4

  Devon swallowed hard. “Did… did Brett die?” he whispered, looking down at the worn tabletop. He didn’t want to see the answer shining from the other man’s eyes.

  Joseph sighed. “No. But I ain’t sure he’s much better off.”

  Devon looked up sharply. “Why?”

  “Thompson caught him while we was escaping. He was taken to Port Royal and imprisoned.”

  “Imprisoned?” Elijah said. “What for?”

  “Treason. You’s enemies of the Kingdom, and he helped ya and harbored one of you. His trial was last month.”

  “He was convicted?” Elijah guessed, expression gloomy.

  Joseph nodded. “To ten years in the galleys.”

  Devon moaned. The whole situation was his fault. He should have made Brett come with them, even dragging him by force if Brett had kept refusing. The only thing Brett had done was be kind to a stranger, to Devon, and he was now paying the price for his goodness. Very few people lived more than a year in the galleys, let alone ten years.

  “You said you need our help?” Elijah asked.

  “Yes. I been tryin’ to find ya for months. Where you been all this time?”

  “After what happened, we decided to set sail for a while. We got back two weeks ago and have been staying close to Tortuga. Jamaica is just too dangerous for us at the moment,” Devon said. “What kind of help do you need?”

  “The ship the young master was taken to is the Courage, under Captain Perry’s command. It stays in the Caribbean Sea, lookin’ out for pirates. It shouldn’t take ya long to find it. Ya have to rescue him. Ya have to!” Joseph pleaded desperately.

  “Devon?” Elijah asked, although he looked like he already knew the answer.

  Devon nodded, clenching his jaw tightly. He had to do this. No way would he fail Brett. “Elijah, go find Jasper. Tell him I’ll give him twenty gold coins if he keeps the map until we return. Then we are going for supplies.”

  “On my way,” Elijah said, rushing out of the tavern.

  Devon focused his attention on Joseph. “You have done well, Joseph. We will get him back, rest assured. You better get away from here now. Go join your friends in the jungle where you will be safe.”

  “I will. And thank you, Captain Hall. The rumors is right; ya be a good man. May the Lord bless ya.”

  Finally left alone, Devon closed his eyes tiredly. Life certainly had a funny way of sneaking up on a person when least expected. Brett had saved his life, now it would be Devon’s turn. He just hoped the Flying Horse was a strong enough ship to face the British cruiser.

  Aboard the Courage

  BRETT FOLLOWED the second-in-command from the galley to the upper deck, wondering why the captain would want to have a word with him. He had done nothing to justify any punishment. In fact, his month aboard the Courage had been surprisingly better than he had anticipated. He had a few more scars on his back, but other than that….

  The second-in-command knocked on the captain’s door. After hearing the shouted “Enter,” he moved aside to let Brett in, then closed the door silently, leaving Brett alone with Captain Perry.

  “Captain? You wanted to see me?”

  Captain Perry smiled up at him from his desk. “Sit down, Mr. Campbell.”

  He obeyed, remaining silent as he waited to hear why he had been summoned. It was the second time he’d stood face-to-face with the commander of the ship, the first being during his arrival. Perry was an old man, probably in his late sixties, tall and slim, with snow-white hair and warm brown eyes.

  “You must be wondering why I sent for you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m an old man, Mr. Campbell. I should have retired from this game a long time ago. But the sea….” Perry took a deep breath and then smiled gently. “The sea is my mistress. I find I can’t leave her alone. I’m also old enough to allow myself some extravagances. As you may know, Mr. Chamberlain, my cabin boy, died when we were attacked last week by that Spanish ship. Well, I am in need of a new cabin boy, and I decided it will be you.”

  Brett cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Please don’t get me wrong, Captain, but besides being too old for a cabin boy, I’m a prisoner. You could come to serious problems over this. If my uncle finds out you showed any lenience toward me, he might take it personally. Being governor, he has friends in high places.”

  The captain chuckled. “I am aware of the fact, Mr. Campbell. Going back to your first point, although I understand it is a somewhat demeaning title, you would not have much to do. I simply need someone to help me in and out of these wretched uniforms and who would not mind spending some time listening to an old man reminisce about the good old days. I am sure that is a major improvement from your current position on this ship. As for your uncle, I know perfectly well who he is. I also know what you, Mr. Campbell, have done to get you here.”

  “Don’t tell me you concur with my association with pirates!” Brett smiled, relaxing under the man’s easygoing manner.

  Captain Perry grinned. “From what I have heard, Hall is much more than a common pirate, and I don’t agree with the way your uncle runs Jamaica. I have already made it known to England, and so have others. We have been waiting for news from the Crown. One should not use one’s position for personal gain, which is exactly what your uncle is doing. From now on, you will be my cabin boy and will remain so until we conclude our journey. I highly doubt someone will tell him, and even if it happens, there’s little he can do to me. So, what say you?”

  “When you put it that way… then yes,” Brett replied with a grin, still unable to account for his good luck.

  “Good. Come with me. I’ll show you to your cabin. You can change into the proper attire there.”

  The captain took him to his new quarters and showed him where everything was to be found. Soon he was freshly bathed and dressed, feeling the sea breeze caress his body for the first time in a month. He strolled quietly through the main deck, nodding to the seamen.

  Brett couldn’t help but grin at the sight of a young man standing by the bow, scanning the horizon with a thoroughly enthralled expression on his face, head a wild mess of tangled red curls blowing in the wind. He looked to be fairly young, no more than sixteen, if Brett were to guess, with wide hazel eyes and strangely delicate features.

  “Enjoying the view?” Brett asked as he joined the boy.

  The young man reddened slightly but grinned back, eyes sparkling brightly. “Yes. We have been out here for a month and still….” He took a deep breath. “It’s beautiful. I’ll never get over it, how big and wondrous and cruel it is.” He held his hand out to Brett, grip surprisingly strong for his slight build. “Cody Sullivan, the cook’s helper.”

  “Brett Campbell, former galleys prisoner, now cabin boy,” Brett replied, shaking the offered hand with a smile.

  Cody nodded. “We have all heard about you. I’m glad the captain saw fit to set you free. You did not belong in the galleys.” He seemed to hesitate, then asked, “Did you really meet the Phantom, Captain Hall?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s he like?” Cody asked eagerly, practically bouncing in place with excitement.

  Brett remained silent for a moment, remembering the wonderful days spent by Devon’s side. “Larger than life,” he finally said, sadness tingeing his voice.

  “You miss him, huh?”

  Brett started at Cody’s insight, but Cody merely shrugged. “I could tell by the way you spoke. I wish I could meet him.”

  Brett raised an eyebrow. “If I may be so daring, how did one as young as you end up as a cook in a British cruiser?”

  Cody glowered. “Ain’t that young, turned seventeen just last month,” he said proudly, much to Brett’s hidden amusement.

  “I’m sorry. I meant no slight,” Brett said. “You look younger than you are.”

  “S’all right,” Cody said with a shrug. “I grew up on my parents’ farm but never really took to farming. Mama always said I had a wandering heart
. Taught myself to shoot a pistol, to handle a sword…. I joined this crew so I could be a sailor, have an exciting adventure on the vast ocean. I wanted to make my own destiny, see all there is to see out there.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “It has not been as wondrous as I thought it would be. The captain thought I was too young to be a soldier, so I’m stuck with cooking duties. And, well, sometimes I… I miss my parents.”

  Brett winced in sympathy. “I can imagine.”

  Cody sighed again. “Still, I really should not complain. Sometimes, when there is time, some of the men help me improve my fighting skills or teach me how to sharpen my aim, and it’s quite exciting when we have to engage other ships. But I wish I could spend less time locked below, scrubbing pots.”

  Cody’s forlorn expression made Brett chuckle again. “Don’t be so hasty, my young friend. I have always heard that good things come to those who wait. Your time will come, you will see.”

  Cody grinned, once again bouncing on the soles of his feet with barely repressed energy. “Hope so. I have to go back. The cook’s probably threatening to skin me alive by now. See you around, Brett!”

  “Goodbye, Cody.”

  Brett stayed leaning on the rail for the longest time, watching the sun reflected on the ocean like a mirror and wondering about his life. Would he ever see Devon Hall again? Did he want to? And where was Devon at that moment? Was he safe? Was he even alive?

  Brett closed his eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the soft breeze to brush over him with a lover’s touch. Time to go about his duties. Anything to keep his mind busy and away from impossible dreams.

  BRETT WOKE suddenly and peered into the darkness, trying to place the sound that had roused him. He lay still, looking up at the starry sky, but the beach was quiet except for the sentries patrolling the shoreline.

  That morning, when suspicious smoke had been seen coming from one of the smaller islands in the Caribbean Sea, the captain had ordered a small group to go ashore and investigate, but they had yet to find anything.

  Desperate to feel solid ground beneath his feet, at least for a few hours, Brett had asked the captain if he could spend the night on the island. His request had been granted, and Cody had joined him at the last minute. The cook would remain on the ship, but the group going to the island would need someone to provide them with meals.

  In the two weeks since Brett had started his new assignment as Perry’s cabin boy, he and Cody had become friends, spending much of their spare time together. Cody was fierce and intelligent—like a little puppy one moment and an old soul the next—and Brett was delighted to have him around.

  Brett looked at the sleeping men gathered around the dying fire and realized Cody was nowhere to be found. One of the men responsible for watching over the camp was by the fire, while the other was also absent.

  Brett pushed off his blankets and pulled on his boots, then climbed to his knees, stood, and walked over to the fire.

  “Where are Cody and Frederick?” Brett asked Joshua, the second watchman.

  Joshua chuckled. “The boy wanted to relieve himself, and Fred went with him, just in case. Knowing those two, they stopped on their way back to look for some wild creature Cody can roast for tomorrow’s meals.”

  Brett rolled his eyes. It would be just like Cody to try to hunt wild game in the middle of the night.

  “I better go look for them,” Brett said.

  Joshua frowned. “You better be careful, Brett. Just because we haven’t seen anyone yet, doesn’t mean that someone isn’t here, or that they’re friendly. Here.” He gave Brett a pistol. “It’s loaded and ready to use.”

  Brett nodded. “Thank you. I’ll be right back with our two wayward sheep,” he said, already making his way to the tropical forest surrounding the beach.

  Wishing for a torch but knowing it would be unwise to advertise his position to possible miscreants, he squinted at the soft ground, spotting faded footsteps, two different sets, fresh enough they should belong to Cody and Frederick. He looked up in the direction of the prints and saw a flash of movement in the darkness.

  He thought about calling out, but caution won over folly. It might be his friends, but then again, it might very well be the elusive people they had been searching for. Feeling somewhat foolish for his zeal, he drew his pistol and stepped toward the woods. The last vestiges of sleep left him as he moved silently forward, his heart speeding at the thought of the possible danger lurking before him.

  He heard what sounded like a whisper off to his right, a man’s voice, then a second voice and a muffled cry; he was getting closer. He thought about going back and calling for help but was suddenly filled with a sense of urgency. He was moving faster now, certain Cody and Frederick were in some kind of trouble. The voices were clearer now.

  “You really are somethin’, little bird,” one of the men said roughly. “Tender meat, that’s what you are. Goin’ to enjoy havin’ ya.”

  “Yes. Going to show us a good time, ain’t ya?” the second voice chuckled. “Bet you’s a little virgin, ain’t ya, boy?”

  “Oh Lord,” Brett whispered, shuddering violently as he realized what the men had in mind for his young friend.

  He rushed in the direction of the voices, and suddenly he could see the frail light coming from a lantern. The scene that greeted him made his blood turn cold.

  Frederick was lying facedown on the ground, in the middle of a clearing, blood pouring freely from his temple. Cody was kneeling, gagged, with his hands tied behind his back. One of the men had him securely by the mop of curly hair, yanking his head back in what could only be an extremely painful position.

  Brett didn’t recognize either man. They were probably pirates or bandits, and most likely the ones responsible for the smoke the sentry had seen that morning from the ship.

  He moved forward carefully, not wanting to make a sound until he was standing close enough to act. When he reached the edge of the clearing, he aimed his pistol at the two men. “Let him go. Now!” Brett ordered, relieved when his voice didn’t betray his uneasiness.

  One of the men grinned. “Well, well, well, looky here! A sailor boy has come to join the party. And nice-looking too! We made it big, Jack!”

  “Yes.” The other man nodded. “You better drop that gun, lad, or my friend standing behind you will be forced to hurt you… before time, that is.”

  Brett narrowed his eyes, feeling the hairs at the back of his neck stand up. Could the man be telling the truth? Could there be a third man behind him? It would have been easy to miss him in the darkness, but it could also be a bluff to try and overtake him.

  Before he could make a move, a hand hit him on the shoulder, forcing him to stumble forward, the pistol dropping from his hand and disappearing somewhere in the bushes. He was turned around, and a fist caught him hard in the stomach. He fell to his knees, gasping for breath.

  Filled with a sudden rage, Brett growled angrily, throwing a punch at the man towering over him, grinning madly when he felt his knuckles connect with the other man’s groin. The man howled in pain, falling to the ground and curling up into a ball as he whimpered pitifully.

  Brett rose but failed to see one of the other men approaching. Another fist struck him on the chest, driving him back against a tree trunk, and a second punch slammed hard against his face. He hit his head on the tree, his vision blurring as he felt blood trickle into his mouth from a split lip.

  “What is going on here?” a new voice boomed, and everyone froze.

  Brett blinked at the sudden light of the lanterns and looked up to find Joshua and some of the seamen from the camp standing in front of them. Spotting his pistol, Brett reached for it and aimed at the three men, one of whom was still moaning on the ground.

  “These… gentlemen were trying to kidnap Cody,” Brett lied smoothly. He knew how embarrassed Cody would be if the others knew the truth. He was certain the miscreants wouldn’t dare contradict him. “I stumbled into the attempt and was doing a dreadful job a
t rescue,” he said with a rueful grin.

  Brett approached Frederick on shaky legs, checking for a pulse and muttering a thankful prayer when he found one.

  “What do we do with them?” one of the seamen asked.

  “Take them back to camp, chain them up. Question them to see if there are any more of their friends around. If yes, search for them. If not, take them to the captain in the morning. He will decide what to do with them,” Brett said, trying to sound commanding. “Take Frederick back to the ship, but be gentle about it. Have Brad look him over, see if there is anything else wrong besides the head wound. I will see to Cody,” he said, already pulling the gag from Cody’s mouth.

  He might have been the cabin boy, but none of the others thought twice about questioning his judgment. The three men were taken to camp immediately, Joshua carrying Frederick in a gentle hold, leaving Brett and Cody alone in the woods.

  Brett cut the ties binding Cody’s wrists, watching the boy closely to gauge how he was faring. Cody coughed violently, staggering to his feet with some difficulty.

  Brett put a gentle hand on Cody’s shoulder to steady him. “How are you doing?” he asked softly.

  Cody coughed some more, then rasped out, “You arrived just in time, Brett. Thank you.”

  Hearing the quiver in Cody’s voice and feeling the trembling in the boy’s slim frame, Brett guided him slowly back to the beach. Instead of taking Cody to camp, Brett led him to a small stream they had discovered upon arriving.

  They knelt by the water’s edge, and Brett used the gag to gently clean Cody’s face. Once the dirt had been washed away, it became clear Cody had put up quite a fight. He had a black eye, a bruised cheek, a few scrapes and cuts, and a split lip to match Brett’s own.

  “My, aren’t we a pair?” Brett quipped, knowing his chest would also be badly bruised. He was relieved when Cody gave him a weak but genuine smile. “You will be fine, my friend.”