Corsets & Crossbones (20 page)

When they reached the top and were standing on the last branch, Brooke estimated that the mast was a about a foot and a half above them.  Maria was now standing beside Brooke, her eyes scanning the top of the mast hungrily.  Brooke caught sight of the shimmering object; she could clearly make out the form of a key.  This time, however, Maria saw it too.  She gingerly pushed Brooke out of the way, stepping around Brooke to get closer to the key.  Brooke managed to keep her balance, but her heart skipped a beat at the possibility of falling.  She glanced down.  She knew that if she fell, she would be dead.

Brooke glanced back at Maria.  The Spaniard was standing on her very tippy toes, trying to reach the key.  Her fingers managed to grab the string that held the key, pulling it towards her, but at that moment, her foot slipped and she fell off the branch, plummeting to her death.  Brooke squealed in surprise, her heart now beating incessantly fast.

Diablette
glanced at Maria’s dead body, and had a couple women from her crew check it.  After a moment, one of the women shook her head.

“No key,”
Diablette murmured, and then arched her neck up to look at Brooke.  “The key’s still up there, princess!  Grab it!”

“Are you mad?” Brooke exclaimed.  “I’m coming down.  If you want the key so badly, you get it yourself.”

Charlie suppressed a smirk at Brooke’s response.

“If you do not come down with the key, your precious Captain Colt will be killed,”
Diablette replied.

Brooke groaned, rolling her eyes up to the clear, blue sky.  She glanced at the edge of the branch and slowly began to make her way over.  Her stomach was sucked in, hoping that it would maintain her balance.  She didn’t even want to breathe.  When she reached as far as she could go, so pushed up on her toes.  Maria was taller than her, and therefore had more accessibility to reach the key.  However, because Maria had pushed the key towards the ledge, Brooke managed to slip her index finger through the rope.  It slid down until her fingers folded around the rope and grasped the key in her palm.  She turned
around, taking a step where she thought was branch.  Instead, her foot came in contact with air, and she felt herself falling.

Brooke could hear Charlie calling out for her, but her mind phased out.  Her stomach came in contact with a thick branch, taking her breath from her.  She was still falling until her stomach came in contact with another branch.  She cried out from the pain as tears began to pour from her eyes.  The key was still in her palm; it was the only thing she felt she was able to hold onto.  Finally, her body hit the ground with a thud.

Every part of her hurt excruciatingly.  It hurt to breathe, it hurt blink, and it hurt to cry.  She felt her head get hazy, but when she saw Charlie’s big, brown eyes mold into hers, they drowned out everything else.  He was leaning over her, his eyes misty, murmuring things to her she couldn’t understand due to a loud ringing in her ears.

“I…” she said, coughing and cringing with pain.  “I… h-have the... key.”

Charlie followed her eyes to her clenched hand.  From nowhere, Diablette reached out and pried it away from her.  Brooke was in too much pain to even notice.

“I’m tired, Charlie,” she said, coughing once again.

“Stay with me, love,” Charlie said, pleading with her.  “Please… stay with me.”

Brooke didn’t seem to hear him.

“Stay with me Charlie,” she murmured as she slowly fell into unconsciousness.

“I will, darling,” he replied.  “I will.”

“Goddamit!” Diablette snapped.  “She’s fucking unconscious!  How is she supposed to solve the rest of the riddle?”

Charlie’s jaw twitched due to the fact that he was clenching his teeth. 
He had to physically grind his boots in the dirt to refrain from attacking.

“If I solve it for you, will you let me and the lass leave, as you have promised?” he asked slowly, articulating his words.

Diablette looked at Charlie for a very long moment, before finally nodding.  She walked over to the pirate captain and handed him the parchment.

“I know you Charlie,” she murmured quietly to him so that only he could hear.  “I know you hate to admit it, but I know you well.  If you lead us the wrong way, if your guess is wrong, then she will be missing body parts when I am through with her.”

Charlie snatched the paper and reread the riddle.  They already solved the first four lines, what they needed to do was now find the treasure. 
In a sea of would, until you actually do, different trunks, different values. 
Charlie bit his lips as he continued to read and reread the passage. 
In a sea of would
.  What could that possibly mean?  He felt himself get a headache as he tried to process everything.  Maybe reading the beginning four lines would give him a clue? 
On a sea of green, atop a vertical mast, unlock a treasure, of treasure’s past
.

On a sea of green…

In a sea of would…

“The treasure is buried in a tree!” he exclaimed suddenly, excited at having solved the riddle.

“Do not toy with us, Colt,” Sutherland snapped, walking over to both Diablette and Charlie.

“Listen to me, ay?” Charlie growled.  “’In a sea of would’ refers to whether or not we will find the treasure, as well as wood, like that which makes of trees.  It has a double meaning.  ‘Different trunks, different values’ refers to the tree’s trunk.  However, a trunk is also another name for chest.  Hence, the chest is buried in the trunk of a tree.”  Charlie smirked at his intelligence.

“How can a chest be buried in the trunk of a tree?” Sutherland asked suspiciously.

“Ever see a rather large opening in a tree trunk, mate?” Charlie asked.  “Seem to be a pretty good place for hiding a treasure, ay?”

“Which one is it hiding in?” Diablette snapped, her patience wearing thin.  They were so close; there was no need for small talk.

“Probably the one with the biggest hole in it, I would say,” Charlie said, his forefinger tapping his chin.

“Well, look for it!” Diablette snapped.

“I will accompany him,” Sutherland volunteered
, “to ensure that he does not take any of our treasure.”

“I’m not leaving Brooke,” Charlie said
, his voice losing all of its mischievousness .

“Either you go with Lord Sutherland and acquire this treasure, or she will leave you by way of death,”
Diablette said as she handed Sutherland the key.  “How many times do I have to threaten you for it to actually sink in?”

Charlie looked at Brooke, his brow pushed together and his dark eyes filled with sadness.  He did not want to leave her, but he knew he had to.  He sighed, and then turned, following Sutherland into the sea of trees that made up the forest on the island.
  Again, he kept his walk subtle.  He barely glanced at the trunks of the trees, his thoughts reserved only for Brooke.  Was she okay?  Obviously not, looking at her condition.  She was bruised, battered, and bleeding, in a ridiculous and constraining corset.  She needed her wounds dressed as quickly as possible.  As much as he hated helping the man who had condemned his life, his thirst for revenge paled in comparison to saving Brooke’s life.  So his eyes started scanning the trees, as the two went deeper and deeper into the forest.

“There,” Charlie said, pointing to an absurdly large tree.  His brow was filled with sweat, the hot sun still high in the sky, although time was passing.  It had to have been nearly four o’clock by Charlie’s knowledge of the placement of the sun in the sky.

Sutherland stopped walking and paused, looking over the tree.  Finally, he nodded curtly at Charlie and the two walked over to it.  Sutherland’s heart beat increased with excitement and he tried to pace himself steadily as they made their way to the tree.  When they neared the tree, he pushed Charlie behind him so the taller man blocked Charlie from even looking in the hole.  Both men noticed strange markings on the bark of the tree trunk, but neither paid much attention to them.  Charlie didn’t have to; he already knew what they meant.

“Oh my God,” Charlie heard Sutherland mumble.

So this was it.  The chest was actually in a trunk of a tree.

Sutherland wasn’t sure whether he should take out the trunk or leave it in there.  However, if it was filled with treasure, it would be hard to move in the first place.  Best to make sure it was filled with the riches they expected before bringing it back to
Diablette.  He fumbled with the key and missed the lock twice before sliding it in.  He listened for the soft clink that would ensure that this key fit with this chest.

And then he heard it.

Charlie heard him chuckle victoriously, and an array of goose bumps sprouted over the pirate captain’s body.

“Blast it!” Sutherland exclaimed.

Charlie tilted his head to the side.  Well that was unexpected…

“Somebody has already been here!” he exclaimed, stepping away from the tree trunk.  He seemed to be talking to himself, as though he forgot Charlie was even there.

Seeing this opportunity, Charlie slipped in front of the tree trunk and looked inside while Sutherland began pacing, muttering to himself.  There was an opened envelope and a piece of parchment.  Charlie assumed Sutherland had opened it, thinking that it was another clue as to where the treasure might be.  He picked up the envelope, and looked at it curiously.  There was no return address, nor was there a recipient.  All that was on the plain, white envelope was a seal of some sort; a lion holding some sort of weapon.  Charlie peered closer at it. It was a spear of some sort.   He picked up the parchment.  There were two rows of correlating numbers.  He furrowed his brow at the nonsense of the numbers, and then turned the parchment over.

And even thence thou wilt be
stol’n, I fear,

For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.

The numbers, as well as the message, were both hand-written.  Both the parchment and the envelope were tainted with age, yellowing at the edge.  They both had to have been in the trunk for an incredibly long time.  Charlie’s furrowed brow deepened.  While the message did not make sense to him at all, he did not believe the treasure was already taken, as Sutherland thought.  These words were too precise, the envelope too plain.  Charlie believed that both parchments were, indeed, other clues to where the treasure was.  He knew he couldn’t stay there, studying them forever; he had to get to Brooke and he had to leave this island, escaping both Diablette and Sutherland, and the inhabitants.  He knew they had noticed their presence and were just waiting for the perfect moment to strike.  At that moment, he heard a surprised shout and then the familiar sound of flesh being pierced with something sharp.  Then a thud.  Then – nothing.  Silence.  The kind of silence that accompanies death – still and loud.  He held his breath, waiting, forcing every muscle in his body to go still.  He could not move.  He could not even breathe.

After what felt like forever, Charlie risked a small gesture.
  He slipped both pieces of evidence in his breech’s pocket, and paused.  When there was no reaction, he turned around, deciding to press his luck.  Instead of seeing Sutherland’s form, however, he was met with nothingness.  Then his eyes looked down, and he noticed the light colored dirt stained red, a trail leading back into the heart of the island.  That very well could have been him, could have been Brooke.  His heart pounded against his chest, and he allowed himself a brief moment to feel shaky, to tear up at just how close he had come to dying.  Only a moment, however.  With a deep intake of breath, he pulled himself together and slowly made his way back to the meadow.  They needed to get off the island.  Now.  Charlie’s mouth dropped with surprise, not quite sure what to do.  He was left alone.    Even so, he had to get to Brooke, get her back on his ship, and  dress her wounds.

Charlie breathed deeply for a quick moment, and then took off, retracing his steps back to the sea of green.
  Everything inside of him wanted to run to Brooke and then run back to his ship, but he forced himself to go dreadfully slow.  They wouldn’t notice him if he walked this way.  Along the way, he came up with some elaborate explanation for Sutherland’s disappearance, but once he reached the meadow, he found he did not need to.  He could see that no one was in sight, which only increased his worry.  When he saw Brooke’s crumpled silhouette, a smile broke out on his face, and he thanked whoever was watching over him. They had come for Diablette and her crew, too.  With Brooke incapacitated, they wouldn’t even notice her.  Maybe they would be all right now.    He pushed Diablette and her crew out of his mind then, focusing all of his attention on Brooke.  He had to dress her wounds and get her back to the ship, but even then, he knew she wouldn’t survive out at sea.  He had to take her somewhere.  An idea popped into his head; he knew where they could go.  And once they were at sea, he would inform Kenneth of their new heading.

When Charlie got back to the shore with Brooke in his arms, his dark eyes scanned the horizon.  He saw his ship was exactly where he had left it, rolling along with the soft waves.  They had made it.  However, he saw Diablette’s ship rocking a few feet away from his.  What unnerved him the most was the fact that the rowboats were exactly as they had left them, never to be used again by anyone.  He shook his head of all thoughts, and eased himself into the boat, sitting Brooke on his lap so that her head hit his chest.  His hands grabbed the oars, and slowly, he began to row toward his ship.  It was rather difficult with all of Brooke’s weight leaning on him, but he managed to make it to his ship.

Now, Charlie had to think about what to do next.  Brooke was still unconscious so there was no way she would be lifting herself up to the ship.  An idea popped into his head, but unless he had the balance that challenged a pussycat’s, very bad things would result.  He pressed his lips together and breathed deeply before he stood up.  He paused, making sure the boat held his weight.  And now for the tricky part… Slowly, he knelt down and scooped Brooke into his arms, carefully hoisting her over his shoulder so that her weight balanced on him.  The boat rocked as
he  stood, but managed to stay afloat.  He reached up, grabbing the side rope, and pulled himself up, along with Brooke.  His teeth were grinding together, and he let out a grunt.  His arm muscles cried with pain, and his boots scraped the side of the boat as he kept both of them up.

“Ay!” he cried out, almost painfully. 
“Ay you scallywags!  Get over here!”

Murmuring neared the side of the ship before three heads popped over.  Their eyes widened when they saw Charlie holding the unconscious woman over his shoulder.  The man in the middle reached over, while the two on his sides held him in place.  The man slipped his hands underneath Brooke’s underarms and
attempted to hoist her up.  He let out a grunt at lifting the woman’s dead weight, but after a few moments, managed to pull her up, over the side of the ship and onboard.  Charlie was close behind, and took Brooke back in his arms. 

“I need a doctor right now,” he told the men
as he tried to catch his breath.  “Have him come in my quarters this instant!”

The three men disappeared as Charlie brought Brooke in his quarters.  He gently placed her on the bed, making sure her head was comfortably resting on the pillow.  His eyes scanned over her, and
he  glared when he noticed the corset still wrapped around her chest.  He couldn’t flip her over and untie her, so he reached in his belt, grabbed his small dagger, and sliced the corset right down the middle.  Immediately, he could feel her breathing increase deeply, and her face relaxed a bit.  His eyes went back to scanning her; there were bruises, matted blood spilling from cuts, and other such injuries.  Nothing seemed life-threatening, but goodness, it seemed painful.  Charlie’s eyes narrowed as his anger began to rise once again, just looking at Brooke.  He had promised himself that he wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt her, and here she was, barely escaping death.  The pirate captain was incredibly furious with Diablette, Sutherland, and whoever physically harmed her, but if he was being completely honest, he was upset with himself as well.

A knock at his door caused his thoughts to go swimming away, and he turned to the door.  That had to be his ship’s physician.

“Yeah, come in,” he called.  Charlie looked back at Brooke.  While he knew how to dress a wound, he thought his physician would do a better job than he could.

The door opened, and Charlie turned to look at his physician thoroughly for the first time.  The doctor was taller than him by a few inches.  He was older by five years maybe, with dusty brown hair, and piercing blue eyes.  He was slim and fit, dressed in rather nice clothing despite being found in
Torro.  In his hands were bandages and a couple of towels while Kenneth, who trailed in behind him, carried rum and water.  The two set the medical materials down, and the doctor took a seat on the side of the bed, examining Brooke.

“Charlie,” Kenneth said quietly, “this is Hugh; he’s your physician.”

Charlie nodded at Hugh, who nodded back.  Charlie could not speak; his eyes kept going over to Brooke.

“Listen, Charlie, maybe you should step outside, eh?” Kenneth suggested as gently as possible.

Charlie shook his head, his lips pressed in a stoic line , crossing his arms over his chest and sitting himself in a chair.

“I’m staying right here,” he said, but his eyes glanced up at Kenneth.  “Sail to New Providence, al
l right?  That’s our heading.”

Kenneth hesitated before leaving, but nodded finally and left Charlie’s quarters.

Charlie turned his attention back to Hugh, who was currently disposing of Brooke’s undergarment.  Charlie bit his lip from telling Hugh to stop; he knew the doctor had to dress every one of Brooke’s wounds, and that she was wounded well below the neckline of her dress.  Charlie looked away, however, not wanting to take advantage of Brooke’s vulnerability.  If he was going to see these particular parts of hers, he would wait until she was awake, sober, and consenting.

Hugh, the physician, had never seen someone beaten so badly.  His eyes swept over her bare body with sympathy as he began to clean her wounds.  He couldn’t see any cuts that were in need of disinfecting with rum so far, and hoped that it would remain that way.  He turned her over slightly, and quickly cleaned and dressed those wounds, before wrapping a final bandage over most of her torso.  He moved down to her legs, but there seemed to only be bruises and very minimal cuts there, as with her face.  When he finished, he turned to his new pirate captain, only to find him with his back toward the two.  He smiled at the chivalry Charlie was displaying, and cleared his throat, an indication to let Charlie know it was safe to look.

“Do you have any clothes she could wear temporarily?” he asked Charlie.

“Yes, of course,” Charlie said, going over to the trunks of clothing that rested at the foot of the bed he had so recently replaced with his own.  He grabbed a silky green tunic and the smallest breeches he had, and he handed them to Hugh before sitting back in his seat and averting his eyes once again.

Hugh took the clothes and dressed Brooke with skillful gentleness.  When he finished, he pressed his ear to Brooke’s chest for one last quick check, before standing up and walking over to Charlie.  Charlie, looking up at Hugh upon hearing him stand, quickly stumbled up to meet him.

“Well?” he asked, glancing over at Brooke.  “How is she?”

“She’s still unconscious, but her breathing is stable,” Hugh said as he collected his materials.  “In a way, this is a good thing because she can’t feel the pain.”  He looked over at Brooke for a moment before looking back at Charlie.  “That’s not to say that when she wakes up, she won’t feel pain; she will.  The best thing she needs right now is rest, and lots of it.  In fact, being on a ship isn’t the best thing for her.”

“I know,” Charlie said, shutting his eyes and biting his bottom lip.  “I know a place in New Providence where she can rest as long as she needs to.”  He paused, taking another look at Brooke.  “What should I do now?”

Hugh thought about his words for a spell before actually speaking.

“Stay with her,” he told the pirate captain.  “When she wakes, she’ll need a familiar face to reassure her that she’s not in any danger.  If she’s hungry, feed her.  If she’s thirsty, get her something to drink.  Make sure she’s comfortable, but realize that no matter what, she will be in pain.  Make sure that she’s relaxed, and most importantly, make sure she’s resting.  Any strenuous activity, even if it’s getting up and walking around, may hurt her if she does it before she’s ready.”  He paused once again before finishing.  “And support her.”

Charlie nodded curtly and looked back up at Hugh.

“Thank you, mate,” he said.  He walked Hugh to the door, but before the doctor opened it, asked one last question.  “So she’ll be al
l right?”

“She’ll be in pain, but she will be al
l right,” Hugh assured him.  With that, he left.

Charlie looked back down at Brooke.  How could he let her get harmed to this extent?  His eyes traveled up and down her body, wincing when he saw certain bruises or cuts.  A couple of the cuts were already lightly staining the pure white bandage that prevented them from bleeding out.  Charlie reached out to touch her, to feel her, but was afraid that any unnatural amount of pressure on her might cause her pain.  He hesitated before finally curling an errant strand of her hair away from her face, placing it securely behind her ear.  She did not move, save for her steady breathing.  She looked somewhat peaceful, while at other times, her face contorted into a response to the pain. 

He stood, deciding to get ready for bed.  Kenneth was at the helm, guiding them to where they needed to get to.  He prayed that the winds would be in their favor, and they would arrive in New Providence in five days’ time.  Charlie walked over to his desk, and unhooked his belt, placing it down on the flat surface.  He reached into his pockets, pulling out two pieces of parchment, an envelope, and an emerald necklace.  He placed the paper in the top drawer, but held the necklace in his palm, staring at it for a moment.  The flickering of the candle caused it to reflect different shades of green, depending on how the light hit it.

Like her eyes
, he thought to himself with a sad smile.

How long ago was it when he had crawled into her bedroom window?  She had challenged him even then, upon their first meeting.  He wasn’t sure what to be more baffled about; the fact that she did not alert anyone upon seeing him, or the fact that she was not afraid of him.  And then she pointed out exactly where her jewels were to him.  Charlie did not know why he swiped this particular jewel from her, out of all the ones she had.  Maybe it was the
fact that she had revealed the emeralds were most precious to her.  Yet, she had also spoken of the rubies.  Why not take one of them?  The color reminded him of the ocean, and the ocean, in turn, reminded him of her eyes.  And why the heart?  Why not something smaller?  That, he could not say.  He sighed, and placed the necklace securely in the bottom drawer before standing up.

Charlie slid his tunic off, and let it crumple soundlessly to the floor, and then sat down to remove his boots.  He stifled a yawn as he stretched, and then turned back to the desk to blow out the candle.  By the light of the full moon seeping in, he made his way to the large bed.  Luckily enough, he had placed her on one side of the bed, so he walked around to the other side, and very cautiously, slid in the bed.  He shifted a couple of times, getting comfortable, and pulled the covers over him.  Charlie sighed in content, and glanced over at Brooke.  He could make out her soft features, even in the moonlight.  God, she was still beautiful, despite her battered state.  A strong feeling came over him, and before he knew what he was doing, he had leaned over to the sleeping woman, and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.  His eyes widened in surprise when his lips touched her skin, and he pulled back, watching her reaction.  He was not going to deny the warm feeling the chaste kiss gave him, but he didn’t fully understand it. 

She had never been as well-rested as she was in that moment.  She felt herself smiling as she shifted her head deeper in her comfortable pillow.  Her nose scrunched; the pillow texture was not exactly as soft as she had remembered.  It was warm, and her head fit perfectly on it, but she did not feel the cloth, the fluffiness, the…

Brooke blinked a couple of times, adjusting her eyes to the darkness.  It was then that she realized she was not sleeping on a pillow, but rather a shoulder, and a comfortable one at that.  The pain was a sudden rush as it hit her, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain.  Memories flooded back to her; was she still on
Diablette’s wretched ship?  What of Charlie and his crew?  Were they all right?  Did they find the treasure?  Was there a treasure?  Moving her head as little as possible, she arched her neck up to see who she was sleeping with.

It was him.  She smiled with relief.  It was Charlie.

His profile was sharp and angled, and his brow was relaxed.  The dimpled nostrils attached to his long, pointed nose flared as he inhaled, and she felt his chest move up and down; up as his nose flared, down as he exhaled.  His lips were pursed together, and the pale moonlight cascaded on his cheekbones, making them look sharper than they already did.  His shaggy, dark hair fell into his face, and his facial hair was slightly unkempt, and yet it made him look incredibly rugged.  Charlie Colt was incredibly handsome, there was no denying that.  It was then that Brooke fully realized that Charlie’s torso was bare, completely and utterly bare.  Her eyes widened, and she felt her face heat up.  She had never been this close to a bare-torso man.  In fact, she had never been this close to any other man before Charlie.

“Go to sleep, love.”

His voice her made her feel like a child getting caught, doing something wrong.  It was slurred and very inarticulate, but she understood what he was saying.

“I’m right here,” he continued.  “You’re al
l right.  Go back to sleep.”

There was no teasing joke about whether she saw something she liked or not.  His voice was low, tired, and serious.  She yawned, and refitted her head back into the crevice of his shoulder.  Her breathing became steady once again; she enjoyed how comfortable she was with Charlie, and that feeling relaxed her like nothing before.