A Most Unusual Interest
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A Most Unusual Interest Chapter Twenty Two (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *sends energy *
Myrtle felt
like her legs were burning, even in the cool water of the cove.
port but… She sighed and allowed her eyes to drift shut for just a few moment’s
respite. She had run until she fell,
unable to force another step. She had
lain in the damp sand for what seemed like forever, waiting for death or worse,
sure that every rustle of the palms was Goliath coming closer, sure that
Richard would appear over her. Finally,
she had managed to struggle to her feet and stagger to the gently lapping
waters, cutting her feet on sharp rocks jutting from the sand and leading to
the outcropping which shielded the cove from the lights of Zoruba.
darkening evening. “I’ll be fine here…”
She did not
mean to fall asleep but when she opened her eyes, the moon was high in the sky
and the tide was in, covering her legs and rising. She felt the sand pull at her as she struggled to her feet,
sucking at her, urging her to give in and just lay there, let the sea claim her
rather than Richard. The stars stared
down at her implacably, the same stars she had in England but for some reason,
they did not seem as cold here. She
sighed and took a painful breath, spitting sand out of her mouth as she
exhaled. “Right.
rustled with the tide and she closed her eyes against the stars.
audible over the gently lap of the waves.
“She hadta
come this way,” the higher pitched one whined.
“He said he done saw her!”
A lower
voice, accented with Barbados and Creole tones, snarled, “He done seen the Holy
Mother too! We ain’t lookin’ for her,
though… He ain’t got sense so we ain’t
followin’ his directions…”
Myrtle
choked on a girlish scream of panic.
Instead, she began a lurching run towards the mouth of the small cove,
hoping to whatever god was listening that the men were not coming from her
intended direction of flight. She ran
blindly, her body screaming and begging with her to stop, to rest, for the love
of God to find food, and she did not look back. The lights of Zoruba rose in her eyes again, glowing orange and
yellow against night dark sky, and she sobbed a cry of relief.
could make it.
“
‘ey!”
“No,” she
growled under her breath, pushing herself harder. “No!”
“Wait
up!” The man with the high voice
shouted to her again and she could hear his feet slapping damply against the
sand. “Girlie!
Already, she could see bits of
debris in the water from docked ships and she could smell the stench of
Zoruba’s back alleys and hear the murmurings of a sleepless port town.
did not slow down. She ran until she
was knocked to the ground by a large man slamming into her, tackling her and
rolling over and over until they hit the water. Then she closed her eyes and let her body go weak and limp, too
tired to fight any more.
“Cap’n! Cap’n!”
Jack lurched to his feet, already halfway
through his second bottle of rum for the day.
The deck seemed to pitch and roll under his feet, despite the ship being
moored securely for at least one more night in Zoruba’s docks.
his smudged eyes at the young man. “If
you’re here to be tellin’ me that someone else ain’t seen her, you’re mucking
the hold for a month!”
“Er…” Dawson took an involuntary
step back was Jack took one towards him, trying to both balance and assert
Captainly influence. “It’s just…just…”
“Spit it out, man!” Jack roared,
sweeping his arms wide in emphasis. “If
ye don’t, I’ll shake it out of ye!”
“Hane and Jims, they found her!”
Dawson squeaked. “She ain’t too good
either…” He spun on his heel and ran
willy nilly onto the main deck, his sudden fear of Jack overriding his sense of
shipboard safety.
Jack stared, his lips parted in
surprise and disbelief. “What?” he finally managed.
Anna Maria sighed from her place at
the captain’s table and rose to her feet, corking the rum as she did so.
He turned, leaning back on his
heels, and flashed her something of his usual smile. “Give a woman her own ship, she gets uppity with me!”
Anna Maria snorted.
“Let’s,” he said quietly, cutting
her off, “not start this again now, eh?”
On the deck, he heard the voices swelling to near shouts as something
began happening. “That’s either her or
the harbormaster…”
Anna Maria gestured him onward, “We’ll see…”
following a few paces behind, thinking furiously. She could not see the
redeeming value in keeping Myrtle aboard, unless she were some form of
entertainment for the crew or a pirate herself. And, she added inwardly, from what she had seen so far, Myrtle
was no more a pirate than she ent entertainment. She stopped several yards away from her friend and fellow
captain, her thoughts screeching to a halt as she saw what all the commotion was
about. It was neither Myrtle, alright,
slung like a sack of grain over Hane’s shoulder and groaning softly.
about fifty, frowning fit to split his face, and behind HIM stood several young
boys, barely out of their teens, jittering nervously. “Shark bait, Jack?” she asked quietly.
/p>
dirty and bloody, her feet twitching around Hane’s midsection as she regained
consciousness. He itched to grab her
himself and take her to his cabin, to question her and check her over with his
own hands, but he refrained. “Hane?”
“She were runnin’ on the shore, Cap’n.
this. “We think she cracked her rib,
sir.”
“And them?” Jack snapped,
irritation rising. “Why the catamites?”
“We ain’t no catamites, sir!” the
tallest of the boys piped up. “We’re
wantin’ to join ye!”
Jack closed his eyes and
groaned. “Hane, to my cabin. Anna Maria…”
he paused and then sighed. “Go with him
and make sure she’s in one piece, eh?”
He opened his eyes to pin the boys with a stare.