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The Buccaneer(7)

By:Donna Fletcher


Catherine smiled congenially at the sailors busy in their duties as she passed them. Their returned smiles were pleasant though forced and the odd look in their eyes didn’t help her highly nervous state.

She was about to go below to her cabin, her hand already on the wooden frame when for some unexplainable reason she turned her head slowly to the right. Her feet took her in quick strides to the balustrade. Her hands gripped the scarred wood. Her heart uncharacteristically fluttered like a woman about to swoon. But swoon she didn’t. She just stared in amazement at the speck.

It had grown considerably. She still couldn’t make out a form, but it was closer, larger, and darker in its strange presence.

Catherine heard it then. It was more frightening than any clamor she could remember. It was stillness. No sailor spoke. No sails flapped. No wind blew. The ship had suddenly stilled in the sea.

She shivered as though desperately wanting to rid herself of a horrible premonition of doom.

Captain Morley broke the thick silence with a loud command that sent the men scurrying. Sails were raised and small barrels were carted and stacked near the cannons, prayers were no longer whispers.

Catherine watched the chaotic action, stunned by what it represented. The captain obviously expected an attack. She stood stock-still until a sailor softly offered to see her to her cabin.

The young man closed the door behind him. Catherine remained standing in the dark interior uncertain what to do. It was several minutes before she forced herself into action and convinced herself to stay calm. She lit the oil lamp on the table next to her bed and removed her cape.

A book would ease her worries. She sat on the bed and reached for one of the two books on the table. She hadn’t thought of what book would best entertain her, and she found comfort in the fact that her hands had chosen her Bible. She would find peace within its pages.

She opened the book and one name jumped out at her. Lucifer. She snapped it shut hard, closed her eyes tightly and tried to calm the thunderous pounding of her heart.

Several hours later supper was delivered to her room. The sailor who brought it smiled apologetically and assured her all was well. The captain just felt it was best she kept to her quarters for extra protection.

Catherine didn’t question his explanation. She had thought on the matter and realized that if the drop in wind had slowed them it had also slowed the speck.

She decided it was best to sleep in her clothes, not knowing what early morning might bring. She doubted sleep would visit her this night anyway and sat up in bed to face the long evening ahead.

The deep pitching of the ship woke Catherine from her unexpected sleep and the sound of the slapping water against the wood brought a smile to her face. The wind had picked up and they were finally slicing through the water once again. Captain Morley was an able, experienced seaman. He would outmaneuver the speck and in the morning it would no longer be visible on the horizon. The watery landscape would be perfect again after all.

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The blast sent Catherine flying out of bed, landing in a heap on the floor. She quickly scrambled to her feet upon hearing another blast.

Attacked! My God, they were being attacked.

Catherine jumped; her hand flying to her chest in fright a frenzied pounding shook her locked door.

“Lady Catherine! Lady Catherine!”

Catherine opened it to an anxious young sailor. His pale face wore a mixture of perspiration and gunpowder.

“Captain Morley says to bolt your door and push what furniture you can in front of it. And he says to take this.”

He shoved a pistol into her hand.

“This isn’t necessary,” she protested.

“Yes, it is. The captain says to use it one way or another. These are mean ones we’re dealing with, real mean ones.” He added in a whisper as though afraid to speak the fearful words. “It’s the Black Skull that’s attacking us.”

The ship suddenly felt as if it were rammed, sending Catherine and the sailor tumbling to the side.

The sailor helped Catherine up and then pushed her into her room.

“Bolt the door! Hurry, we’re being boarded!” he shouted and ran to join his fellow crew members.

Catherine slammed the door shut and secured the crude iron bolt. She dropped the pistol on the bed, giving no thought to the danger of it discharging. Her only concern at the moment was to barricade herself in her quarters and pray Captain Morley and his men would succeed in besting the pirates.

From above she heard the clash of steel against steel as she dragged the heavy wooden chest across the cabin floor and shoved it against the door. She sat on top of it, her breathing labored from the exertion.

Screams, which turned one’s blood cold, pierced her ears and sent a shiver through her. How ironic this attack, when she herself was on her way to marry a pirate.