A Commodore

Wicked Woman

           
James came into his bedchamber expecting to find a unwilling wife who had
a new line of stalling tactics to try on him this evening. Instead, he arched a
brow to find that Heather was already in bed under the covers. Walking over to
the bedside he looked at her as she looked back up at him.

           
“Retiring early?” He asked.

           
“Only last night you complained that I took forever to do so. Is it
your complaint now that I do so to quickly?” She said a small shiver in her
voice.

           
“No, no. Not at all.” He said placing the candle by the bed and
unbuttoning his vest tossing it aside. He noticed that her hair had been braided
into two braids to keep it out of her face, and the blanket was pulled up to her
neck. She was completely and fully undressed. Not even her precious nightgown
adorned her body this time. Sitting down on the bed next to her he took off his
cravat and tossed it with his vest then took his boots off and removed his
cufflinks from his shirt. “Is there a reason for the sudden change of
heart?” He questioned as he undressed.

           
“Is this not what you wished?” She asked.

           
“It didn’t seem to concern you so much last night what my wishes
were. Why no arguing about them tonight.” He wasn’t trying to start a fight,
he was just curious to know the reason why the change.

           
“You complained that I was not making any attempts to become accustomed
to you . . . now that I am it seems that you are complaining even more.” She
said a little frustrated as she turned her face away.

           
James pulled the buttons of his shirt free before he leaned down over her
touching her face, removing a strand of hair that had fallen across her eyes out
of the way as it was obstructing his view. “You simply amazed me . . . that
was all. I am not complaining darling. Believe me.” He said with a soft smile
before kissing her gently. “I hardly expected you to make such a grand gesture
with your first attempt.”

           
Heather looked into his eyes for a few moments, getting lost in the
beautiful way their emerald green color sparkled in the candle light. Then she
found herself a little uncomfortable laying naked beneath the covers as he
leaned over her. “What . . . what’s to be done now?” She questioned
softly.

           
James stroked her cheek for a moment still smiling at her, before he
leaned over and blew out the candle.

 

Business Affairs

           
James sat in his office trying to ignore what was going on outside as the
ability to stop the carnage was taken out of his hands. Someone with more
authority, granted by the King himself, had ordered the chaos and a record
number of executions were taking place in the fort that day. Every few minutes,
the trap doors would open, the accused would drop, their next would snap, the
bodies were removed, and the next group of criminals would be placed in the
noose. It had been going on since dawn and wouldn’t stop until they ran out of
criminals, or until nightfall. It made James ill to his stomach.

           
Lord Beckett had issued a temporary order, that all of those accused of
engaging in piracy, barring marks of piracy, caught in acts of piracy, guilty of
piracy, etc. were to be executed without a trial, without a jury, without a stay
of sentence, no chance of reprieve or mercy, and no representation whatsoever.

           
The bodies were piling up quickly, ships were brining in prisoners from
prisons around the Caribbean, anyone that was caught during this time was
instantly condemned to death and was entered into the line that led to the
gallows.

           
Lord Beckett sat outside near the activity drinking tea and going over
the reports that were coming in, as well as the counts of men, women and
children that were being brought through. Of course looking for what he
considered to be important fugitives that he had use for.

           
James signed documents giving orders to his own men trying to conduct his
Majesties navel business as usual even though he too was under the thumb of the
East India Trading Company.

           
“James.” A familiar voice said coming into the office. The commodore
looked up wide eyed as he saw his bride standing at the door of his office.
“What on earth is going on, the entire town is in an uproar.” She said
closing the door and walking further into his office towards his desk.

           
“What in God’s name are you doing here?” He said standing from his
desk quickly walking to her. “You must leave immediately and return home. Go
back the way you came this instant.” He said turning her around and escorting
her back towards the door, horrified that she had come into the fort this day of
all days. “I don’t want you coming down here again.”

           
“Now you’re just being silly. I have every right to be here, the same
as the next citizen. Just because I’m your wife doesn’t mean that I’ve
lost my rights as a citizen of this town. Why on earth . . . .” Suddenly came
the sound of the trap doors being released and the next execution being carried
out. The horrid sound caused Heather’s heart to stop in her chest. “What was
that?” She breathed almost afraid to be told. She started to move towards the
large glass doors that led to the courtyard of the fort but James caught her arm
moving her back to the door she had come through.

           
“Heather, you must go at once. This is no place for you to be.” He
insisted. “Get in the carriage and have the driver take you home.” He
commanded. Heather starred up into his eyes breathing deeply. She had asked the
question, but she had heard the sound of the gallows trap door being opened
before. The sound of multiple trap doors being opened instantaneously, and
followed by the sound of seven necks snapping was a terrible sound that
couldn’t be described in words.

           
Before he could make a move to escort her back out the way she had come,
the doors to the courtyard of the fort opened, as an officer came in carrying a
box of what looked to be rings, jewelry, pendants and broaches, “Lord Beckett
thinks that these things might be recovered stolen property taken from the
bodies of the prisoners, Commodore Norrington.”

           
As soon a the door opened, a sour rotten smell wafted in the door way.
The heat that had been beating down on the dirty, pile of dead bodies that had
been picked at by birds and other such creatures causing a very distinctive
smell of death and decay. Heather’s stomach started to turn as her eyes turned
towards the open door. She could see the moving line of shackled dirty prisoners
moving towards the courtyard. Her eyes went wide as she walked closer to the
open door, her sight following the line to the end until the gallows came into
view. She felt lightheaded as she saw the ropes being fitted around the necks of
the prisoners, and beside the gallows was a massive pile of twisted bodies.
Thrown carelessly into a heap after their necks had been snapped and they had
been deprived of their lives. Their boots and shoes being ripped away from their
feet and thrown into a separate pile before they were thrown into a cart and
hauled away to only God knows where.

           
At the last second, her eyes returned to the gallows, to see the last
prisoner having a noose fitted around his neck. A boy. A small boy who
couldn’t have been more then 7 or 8 at the most. He was so small that the
executioner had to procure a barrel for him to stand on so he would be tall
enough so his head would reach the noose.

           
Heather couldn’t even speak, it was so horrific, so much terror to take
in. “Heather! Come away from there!” James roared quickly reaching out and
snatching her arm pulling her away from the door and her towards him. “Close
that door immediately!” He ordered. Heather wrapped her arms around James and
clung to him resting her head against his chest. Even though the door was shut
as he ordered, the roll of the drums came and then within an instant came the
pull of the trap door and the snapping of the necks. Heather’s eyes were wide
and she jumped at the sound.

           
James could feel the way her body shuttered from head to toe and the way
she clung to him, and he held her tight. He would have given anything not to
have had her witness anything going on here today.

 

Pirate Holocaust

           
Heather sat in the parlor holding a hot cup of tea in her hands. James
cupped her hands in his that held the tea in hers as she had been shaking so
much she had nearly dropped it twice. She was still so upset, that he decided it
would be best until she had been able to drink it down a bit more to help her.

           
“Why the children?” She asked starring into the cup. “That boy . .
. was just . . .  he was just a boy.” She said seeing his
face again as clear as if he had been standing right there.

           
“Lord Beckett is determined to wipe out all piracy, and discourage it
from ever surfacing it again. So anyone whose ever been touched by it in anyway,
he considers to be guilty of the crime of piracy. Even the children.” Heather
looked at her tea as her lip quivered a bit and tears filled her eyes. James
knew she was upset but he had to say this now, it was something that had been
worrying him since the order was issued. “Which is why as long as these orders
stand you cannot go out dressed as a boy as you have been prone to do in the
past. For any reason.”

           
“James, please.” She said. “Why must we discuss this now.” She
said putting down the tea cup and wiping the tears away from her eyes feeling
ashamed that he had seen her cry.

           
“Because . . . because . . . Heather.” He said taking her hands,
“It’s important. If you were caught in those clothes it would be reason
enough for them to suspect you . . . and reason enough for Lord Becket to
condemn you to death.” He shook his head, “You know I would do everything I
could to prevent it . . . but . . .” He frowned as his look darkened. It was
obviously a subject that he was rather sore about coming into light and so it
trailed off slightly. “But it would simply be better if it did not come up at
all. So you must promise me. You must give me your word . . . because I know
that you are true to it . . . that you will not dress yourself inappropriately
again while this order is in effect.” She looked up at him. “Promise me.”

           
She looked away from him a moment tears still streaming down her eyes
before she nodded. James smiled, “Then I’m content.” He kissed her cheek
and pulled her against him holding her tight in his arms.