Kindred Spirits

Disclaimer: I merely own the laptop I'm writing on, the table it is placed upon and the room of the house the table is in and the house. Nothing more.

The shanty Devon sings in this chapter is a song I found surfing the net doing a little research, it’s called Pirate's life. Don't own that either...


Chapter 3

Heading for Heaven


Devon sat up in the crows nest enjoying the sunset, once she was done working the ropes, mending the sails and inspecting the weaponry of course. She now officially was free of duties. She had a few minutes time before Jameson (better known as "The Eye") would claim his place in the main mast.

She loved climbing the ropes upon the ships balcony. That's what she liked to call it. “Crows nest” simply didn't do this spot justice when it happened to be the best seat in the house...errrm, ship, to watch the rising and setting of the sun.

She loved how the sun would dip into the ocean and was able to view all the liquid reds, oranges and purples that filled both sky and sea. If she hadn't known better herself, she'd have thought that she was in danger of losing her edge, what with her getting all mushy at the site of the colliding sky and horizon. But there was no need to inform anyone of that fact, now was there?

‘Duville?’

‘Aye capt'n?’

‘Need ya ta take the helm, I’m turnin’ in for the night an’ Stevens is still feelin’ unwell.’

‘Aye sir!’ she grabbed the rope that hung from the crows nest and swung down onto the main deck, landing very ungracefully in front of Captain Drake. She was glad Stevens, The Hazards first mate, hadn't fully recovered from the illness that had fallen upon him the night before. It was a cruel thing to be thankful for a fellow pirate being ill, but it meant that she got the helm for the night, and that was most satisfying reward.

‘Oh, and Duville?’ Captain Drake didn't even bother to wait for her to respond before he continued. ‘Where’s tha’ sad excuse for a dog o’ yers? Thought it followed its mistress everywhere.’

‘In me quarters sir, can’t have Bullet paradin’ ‘round on deck, now can we?’ she said with a wink.

‘Aye, it's quite a good thin’ since we have its mistress ta do th’ paradin’ for us.’ His tired face seemed to light up at that comment. ‘Now man... woman th’ helm.’

She obliged and stood behind the wheel, running her fingers over the wood almost caressing it. The lingering depths of the oggin was her first love, and steering a ship through it could very well be one of her seconds.

Her eyes focused on the compass she had looted years ago, and cleaned the aged and smudged brass surface with her thumb. They were heading for the warm, welcoming, wicked whorehouse called Tortuga. And with the wind being in her favour, she assumed they could be there within a few days.

She took the wheel with both hands and began to sing.

It's wonderful livin' the life of a pirate

with the freedom to take what we can

and we'll sail the world over, searchin' for plunder


not fearin' to face any man

We call no man our master, no lord and no king.

Not long in one place do we stay.

And this world is for those who can grab it, and hold it.

Possession's the law of the day.

So we take what we want, we don't bother with buyin'.

We say what we mean, there ain't no point to lyin'.

Don't like what we say, you might find yourself dyin'

in a manner too gruesome to say.


When we come into town to spend all our spoils,

a good time will be had by all.

We'll all head to some pub to get drunk off our arses,

when we're there, there ain't any last call.

I'll get rum for meself and buy ale for me friends,

and a great deal of loot on my lovers I'll spend.

When the money's all gone it's off to sea again

to trade cargo for cannonball.


There's not one of us left who has not yet been blooded,

for killing's a part of our trade.

And the only thing standing between us and death

Is strength of arm, and speed of blade.

So we live every day like it might be our last

For all of us know that life is hard and fast

We live for the moment, don't care 'bout the past

From this is our comradeship made.

She grinned when she heard a warm tenor join her song from atop the main mast.


‘Oh ye wonderful tenor, ye really are a true bliss for sore ears,’ she yelled to the man high above her.

‘Th’ song be about spendin’ money on wenches, not lovers Dee,’ he yelled back, mirth gracing his speech.

‘So much fer givin’ compliments…’

As the two continued the shanty together, Jameson kept the lyrics true, and singing about wenches, while she insisted on shouting ‘LOVERS!’ instead. Her wrecking the song in such a way was driving The Eye insane, but that only made it more fun for Devon.

Funny how almost all the sea shanties she knew of were all about male pirates and their treasured wenches, but she could think of none that were about female pirates and their men.

And she knew there had been numerous fearsome pirates of her gender, take Anne Bonny for instance, and of course there was also Mary Read. Although maybe they too sang songs of wenches, for there were scuttlebutt ‘bout them loving women as well... Ah well, didn’t matter to her who people chose to spend their nights ashore with. But they were some of the most feared female pirates ever and Devon was inspired by them.

The night went by too quickly, much to her chagrin, for now she had to turn over her place at the helm to the capable hand of her Captain.

‘Done a fine job tonight, Duville.’

‘Just doin’ me job capt’n.’

‘Proves tha’ ye’ve earned yer salt on me ship even more.’

‘No need fer salt capt’n, but do I have th’ need fer a mug o’ rum an’ some shut-eye. Have ta be fully prepared fer Tortuga aye?’ she quipped with her trademark grin plastered on her face.

‘Quite th’ wicked woman ye be, Duville.’

‘Whatever gave ye th’ idea I'm a woman?’

Winking at her Captain, she turned on her heel and made way to her bunk. After undressing, she went through her sea chest looking for a precious bottle that she had hidden beneath a double bottom.

Bullet opened his eyes while Devon dug through the chest and licked her arm. She halted her search and leaned down to pet the dog that she loved so dearly. ‘Just a few more hours Bullet and we’ll be in heaven,’ she cooed to her small bulldog. She swore that he knew what she said because he went right back to sleep afterwards. ‘Don't ye start dreamin’ ‘bout poodles ‘gain now.’

Since she had emptied the flask that she carried inside her vest the night before, she took a large swig of rum from the bottle she just extracted from her sea chest. Ah, how she enjoyed the slight burning sensation it gave her as the rum swirled around her mouth, over her tongue and down her throat. She closed her eyes and went to lie down in bed... dreaming of rum, gold and men.


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Meanwhile the Captain was lost in thought about the strange woman that was part of his crew.

When she first came to him, wanting to become a member of his crew a few years ago, he had been very skeptic about taking a woman on board. He had heard many tales about the frightful bad luck that they brought and he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to risk it.

Not to mention that back then, he thought that the only reason women were placed on this earth were to get married and serve their husbands, or become whores and serve everything and everyone but husbands. But there had been a threat in her beautiful sparkling eyes that day…. Something that made him wonder about this mysterious woman.

So in the end he took her aboard as a shipmate, making her do tasks he believed that she couldn't do, because after all, he knew that this weirdly muscular looking specimen was only a woman, and all women that he knew were to weak and fragile to do hard labour.

But this Miss Duville did not look a bit fragile, she looked strong... and she proved to be stronger than he figured by completing every single task she was given. Not only that but she may have done them even better than some of her fellow crewmates.

Even with being a woman, Devon worked twice as hard as any man on his ship, and gained more and more respect from him and his crew as weeks, months and years had gone by. He knew that the cocky attitude she put forth had a lot to do with being able to keep the upper hand with the other pirates. She was the only woman aboard his ship and for that reason she had to be tough.

None of his crew had the nerve to even touch her, but he knew that many men in his crew dreamt of her at night. For hell's sake, he'd even done that. But she kept them all at a distance.

Though sometimes when they partied she would let her guard down and tease the men while the rum was passed around, but she never got involved with anyone on the ship. All she wanted from them was respect, comradeship and loyalty, and that was what she had gained and had given in return.

But whenever they docked at some port, Devon seemed to have same urges that his male crewmembers had. Granted she acted the urges out a different way, but he couldn’t say that it didn’t surprise him a little at first. She was not the seduced party (like his men), but she was the seductress, luring men into her trap and succeeding with every single one.

She loved her admirers, but he knew that she was not seriously involved with anyone. She had different lovers in different ports, and possibly even having different lovers in the same port, now that he thought about it. But most of all, Dee (as his men would mostly call her) was as capable as any of his men, fearless and could easily hold her own in a fight. She never spilled blood unless it was necessary. It caused too much of a mess, as she always said.

Whenever she could she would wit her way out of the situation. But if the situation called for rash actions, she stood first in line. True, her sword skills were quite good, but her true strength lied in shooting. In all the years he had her on his crew, she had never once missed a shot.

She had a remarkable aim and sometimes she even shot without taking the time to even look at the target, but she could shoot simply by listening to her opponent. Therefore he put her in charge of the armoury and the weapons aboard “The Hazard.” Devon was his Master Gunner, as well as a whole lot of other things. She would inspect, clean, dismantle all of the guns and would then re-assemble them. No one could do it better, and no one could do it faster.

Taking her aboard had seemed risky at first, but now he realized that it was possibly one of the best decisions he had ever made...


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After Devon woke up and got dressed she took Bullet out on deck. Her dog needed to breathe some fresh sea-air and so did she.

When Devon got up on deck she saw Shredder and Hoggins tangled up in a heavy discussion.

‘What’s up wit’ ye two? Fightin’ ‘bout which o’ ye can kiss me first?’ she said, grinning mischievously.

‘No Dee.’

‘Oh good, ‘cause I almost couldn’t contain meself, would’ve had ta devour ye both.’

Hoggins rolled his eyes at Shredder, ‘There ain’t no hope fer her.’

‘Au contraire, me darlin’s. There be no hope fer ye ta e’er plant a kiss on these luscious lips! Now, what exactly were ye two fussin’ ‘bout?’

‘Tactics,’ said Shredder.

‘Aha, well tha’ be me specialty...’

Both men started to sum up techniques that could be used to defeat one’s enemy. She noticed that all of them contained slaughter and blood spilt, without the two of them even considering any other possibilities.

Devon sighed as she raised her eyebrows. Why is it tha’ men always insist on makin’ a bloody mess? The grotesque options just kept getting more and more gory. Enough o’ this!

‘No! No! No! Ye need ta find yer opponent’s weakness…’ Devon shouted at them, waving her hands in front Shredder’s face, gaining their attention. ‘Ye need ta look fer thin’s they feel weak about… their insecurities an’ tha’ sort o’ thin’. An’ if ye can’t find out, well than tha’ would seem ta be yer weakness,’ she stated matter-of-factly.

‘Ye mean things like a wooden leg or somethin’ like that?’ Hoggins asked.

‘No, ye need ta creep inside their minds, as it were. Think like they think, but keep th’ thinkin’ goin’ in yer favour ya follow? An’ don’t ye let ‘em know what yer thinkin’, don’t e’en think o’ tha’!’

‘Do ye even understand what yer blabberin’ ‘bout yerself, Dee?’ Shredder asked with confusion plastered all over his face.

‘Yup, as a matter o’ fact I’ve crept inside me mind a gazillion times. Never seizes ta amaze me either. Th’ thin’s I’ve found in there... just amazin’!’ she grinned. ‘An’ creepin’ inside th’ minds o’ others, now tha’s what’s really interestin’…’

Hoggins interrupted her train of thought, ‘Must think ye ‘ave all o’ th’ wisdom o’ th’ world in yer hands don’t ya.’

‘Hell no! Where th’ the devil would I put it when me hands are itchin’ ta do other, more interestin’, thin’s? What if they grow tired?’ she said with her trademark grin.

Shredder rolled his eyes. He would never fully understand this woman, not even if he lived to reach the age of a hundred.

‘Oh come now boys, don’t hate me because I be oh-so intelligent. Took me long ‘nough ta get this smart. Brains like these don’t grow on trees ya know. An’ breasts like these don't either.’

While saying "breasts" she cupped her breasts and squeezed them. The men couldn't help but grin at her antics.

‘Land ho! Tortuga awaits!’ they heard "The Eye" yell from the crows nest.

Devon's grin got even wider... ‘Heaven awaits gents!’ she said as she walked over to the railing.

Shredder walked up next to her and commented, ‘Odd, how a demon like ye can look forward ta goin’ ta heaven.’ He winked at her.

‘Even fallen cherubs like meself look forward ta goin’ home. An’ ‘sides I love tryin’ ta equal th’ scale.’