The Swashbuckling Yarn of Milady Vixen (4 page)

Read The Swashbuckling Yarn of Milady Vixen Online

Authors: Christopher Newman

Tags: #sea fox. Eternal Press, #vixen, #humor, #Storyteller, #romance, #Newman, #adventure, #historical, #Violet, #erotica, #pirate, #vengeance

“Put up yer arms, lads,” he squeaked. “The lass is just protecting her child. I say, how did such a lovely lady come to be on such a vessel, hmm?”

“Take a step and you’ll die on the point of my spear,” Suga warned him.

“I have no intention of provoking you, madam. Pray tell, what is your name?”

“Death!”

“Ah, well,” he laughed merrily, “Mistress Death, permit me to introduce myself. I am Captain Guy Pinsetter, the leader of this ragged school of cutthroats, filibusters, and picaroons! You, madam, are a landlubber by the looks of your face. I thought Death would have better sea-legs than what you’re displaying.”

“What do you want of me and my daughter?”

“Why nothing! Nothing at all, for you see, I am more interested in what lies in the cargo bay than between those dark, supple thighs of yours. As well, I am no molester of children, no matter what my reputation has stated to the contrary.”

“You’re just trying to make me lower my spear,” her mother smirked.

The men around Captain Pinsetter snickered and howled like drunken apes.

“Silence, you pack of monkey-jacketed curs!” he shouted, silencing them all. “State your terms, Mistress Death, and let us strike up an accord to which we can both agree.”

“Let us leave in peace and without any harm,” the warrior woman spat.

“Aye, there’s the rub—for you see, I cannot have my reputation marred with such an act of mercy. If I start letting people live, then my peers will think me soft and ready for the plundering. My counter proposal is that you and your fine daughter join my crew. I have need of ferocious fighters such as yourself.”

“Mother Ocean and I are not great friends. Her rolling and swaying backside makes me sick. Let us join, but put us off at the next shore, and we’ll be silent, keeping your reputation intact.”

The scoundrel stroked his long, pointed beard and tapped his right foot. Violet let out a long-held breath, not knowing she had done so. Cocking his head to one side, the captain continued to ponder this newest portion of the negotiations.

“So be it,” he said with a grin splitting below that impressive nose. “We will put you to port as soon as we can.”

“Swear it.”

A rasp of steel made her mother’s legs tense up, but he held the blade aloft and cleared his throat.

“I swear by my sword that you and the little missus will have no harm befall ye whilst you sail under my flag,” the dandified pirate swore. “If I lie, may Davy Jones himself rise up out of the briny deep and drag me to Hell.”

Suga put the butt of her spear on the deck, the flinty blade sparkling in the sun.

“I accept your oath,” she said softly.

“Now then, me hardies…get to the stripping of this vessel. I want her sacked and scuttled before noon.”

“What of the others?” Ugly Pete grunted, disappointment plainly etched on his face.

“Kill them, what else?”

“Not him!” Violet shouted, pointing at the wounded figure of Ginger Tom. “If you kill my friend I’ll carve out your heart, you foul villain!”

“Violet, hush now,” her mother hissed at her.

“No! He is my friend; I won’t allow him to be butchered like some pig.”

“Let the boy live. My daughter is quite stubborn on this; I can see in her eyes she will not relent. Spare him or all agreements are off, and I’ll spill your guts.”

“I recall no such provision in our accord,” Captain Pinsetter said, flinching back in mock fear. He waved his hands in front of his chest like some terrified barmaid.

“One boy under the same conditions as my daughter and I; what difference will it make?” she inquired in a cunning tone.

“All right, all right, blast you! Let the youth live, as long as he swears an oath to serve on the
Red Hand
.”

“Done and done!” Ginger Tom stammered.

“Okay now, lass.” The peacock smiled. “Let us disembark before my rogues think the sun’s made my brain soft to explain all this mercy you’ve forced upon me.”

Moving through the stinking mass of disappointed pirates, Violet followed the gaily dressed cutthroat and wondered what kind of man this popinjay was. They moved across the gangplank amid the shots and cries behind them.

Thus Violet met Captain Guy Pinsetter. Pirate, swashbuckler and killer—and also the most civilized man she had ever met. Except, of course, for her father.

All Red Hands on Deck!

The dawn rose above the swells of the waves, casting a wide swath of yellowish red. From the crow’s nest it was especially impressive. The basket-like perch where Violet stood swayed left to right with every tiny roll of the
Red Hand
, but high above the deck the ship’s movements were amplified tenfold. No matter how rough the rocking she stayed on her feet.

“It’s been ten years since we signed on with Captain Pinsetter.” The twenty-year-old grinned. “He’s kept his promise—sort of!”

Although the bargain had been for her and Mama to be put ashore the very next time the black ship put into dock, they hadn’t disembarked from the pirate vessel. Cruising the Main like a pike with a sore tooth, they had helped board and sack dozens of merchant ships while keeping a weather eye out for Navy pirate hunters.

Of course he knew all along the type of places we’d put into port would’ve meant our deaths.
Violet smiled to herself.
Even if my mother would’ve permitted it, we’d have been fish bait in a matter of minutes.

Shifting on her booted feet, the lone pirate surveyed the horizon once more, a grin splitting her wide lips. Her hand fell to her rapier almost by instinct. It was several seconds later Violet spotted the fat merchant vessel wallowing through the waves five miles away. Her innate sense of danger, honed by a thousand fights, had alerted her before her eyes. Slithering over the edge of the crow’s nest, she clambered down the rigging and hollered to the sea dogs below.

“Vessel five points off the port bow!” Violet exclaimed.

The buccaneers let out a ragged cheer. Several minutes later she landed on the deck, her hands on her ample hips while she bellowed out orders that made the crew jump. Even if her height didn’t command their obedience, the fact she was the first mate on the Red Hand did. Violet, now christened Vixen by most of the scalawags on the ship, had grown up to become a fine specimen of womanhood.

Her long curly hair, still highlighted a soft brown atop her blacker tresses, hadn’t changed, but the rest—well, that was a different tale. Her round face, full and sensual lips made most men pause during swordplay. Often this was their doom. Rings of gold dangled from both ears, and she only wore a red bandana across her smooth brow to keep her hair out of her eyes. Standing five feet ten inches with strong shoulders, well-muscled arms and a bust that looked like she was smuggling melons in her frilly blouse, Violet was most definitely a full-fledged woman now. Her ample hips, round butt and thick thighs gave her an incredible lower center of gravity. She was known to have never fallen, no matter how violently the ship shook from cannon fire or terrible storms.

“Roll out the cannons! Look lively, you pack of motherless bastards—we have a fat prize awaiting us,” Violet roared. “Ginger Tom! Give me every square inch of cloth.”

“Aye, Vixen!” the flame-haired man replied.

“Sound off, Vixen!” Captain Pinsetter thundered, emerging from his cabin. “What be the ruckus yer making on my ship?”

“An easy prize is just five miles off to port, Cap’n!”

“I do believe it’s going to be a profitable morn, then.”

The pirate leader in his red tri-corner cap threw back his head and let out a gusty laugh at his own joke. All hands toiled with a joyous lust for murder in their eyes, for each would get a piece of the wealth lying in the dark cargo hold of the merchant ship.

“How’s Mother?” Violet asked when the captain walked up beside her.

“Lively as ever,” he quipped.

“I can’t believe it took all this time for her to get used to ocean travels.”

“You’re looking a bit old, Cap’n.”

“I do have more gray hair than when we first met, but I still feel lively enough to dance a jig on your grave.”

Violet chuckled at his bravado. But she knew his leg, wounded six months ago during a run-in with the Effingham frigate
The Intrepid Eagle,
wasn’t as sea-worthy as he bragged it was. Running away after plundering a fat galley, the faster pirate escaped taking only a single volley from the better-armed ship. It was a ricochet cannonball, with most of its power spent as it smashed into his left thigh. It had taken months before he could walk once more, but he still hobbled and always would. During the dandified man’s convalescence, a romance of sorts had grown between her mother and Guy. Their relationship had been brewing for many years, and she’d hoped she wouldn’t live to see it. But she had.

He’ll never replace Papa in her eyes, Violet thought, but she softened when she thought he was going to lose the leg. I’ve never seen Mama so worried, she mused; I guess after ten years, her mourning for my father has finally come to a close. Then again, Guy has been like a second father to me. He taught me to read navigational charts, duel with a rapier and doted on me like I was his own daughter. I can’t begrudge the two of them the slim chance of happiness, no matter how I feel about their being together.

Still, thinking back over the past few weeks, she doubted she’d ever forgive Mama and Guy for what she perceived as a dishonor to her father’s memory.

“Vixen, I have to talk to ye,” he muttered.

“Spit it out, Cap’n.”

“You’ll be putting me ashore after this particular voyage. Your mother and I have decided it would be for the best—for all concerned. The crew is starting to look to you over me, and I’m just in the way now. “

“What?!”

“Don’t give me that look, young lady; surely you saw this coming? Your mother wants to return to a port near her homeland, and I, well, I’m tired of the sea. I’m getting too elderly for this business.”

“The terror of the seas is
retiring
?”

“Aye, to a peaceful tropical isle with a beautiful woman—maybe I’ll die in bed.”

“You’re incorrigible. That’s my mother you’re talking about, you old sea-dog. Take the easy way out if you must. But for me, I hope to die in battle—going out with a blaze of cannon fire, that’s more my style.”

“I doubt it. There’ll come a day when you will do the same as I. Sooner or later you’ll find some handsome pirate and settle down to raise a litter.” He laughed, his voice still shrill after all this time.

“Not until the ghost of my father can rest in peace after I’ve settled my score with the King of Effingham.”

“You harbor a hate bigger than ye, Vixen. I doubt a sea of Effingham blood will be enough to quench it.”

“Belay that talk,” she said, dismissing his concerns. “We have a prize to capture.”

The
Red Hand
’s crew worked like clockwork, and Violet took up her position and readied to lead the boarding party. She stood with her rapier in her hand, her pistols tucked into her black belt, and her sight misted over with red haze, for the flag flying on the main mast was that of an Effingham mercantile company. The privateer vessel swung across the bow of the ship, its gun roaring and pouring white smoke over the side, clouding Violet’s eyes. The thrill of battle pounded in her mind with the same powerful beat as her wild heart. The thick smoke cleared, and her warrior spirit exalted; the anticipation of combat shuddered through her frame, sharpening her vision and clarifying her course of action.

“She’s heaving too!” Captain Pinsetter roared.

“Shit!” Violet swore as the craft struck its colors.

“Maybe next time, Vixen.” Ginger Tom laughed.

“Suck bilge water or I’ll see you to Davy Jones.”

“Hell hath no fury as Vixen deprived of skewering the gizzards of any of Effingham’s citizens,” Ugly Pete cackled.

“Perhaps I’ll just run you through, you cock swain,” she snarled.

“Um, Vixen, shouldn’t we be getting onto yon ship?” the redhead butted in.

She shot him a dirty look and saw to the boarding action. At the lead was Clubfoot Beth. Sam Half-wit and a few others followed as a squad of red-and-white-clad Marines poured out of the merchant vessel’s cargo hold. Puffs of musket shots roared, cutting the first row down and inflaming Vixen’s temper. Bodies splashed into the sea.

“It’s a trick!” she shrieked, yanking out a flintlock pistol. “Return fire!”

A rattling and random cracking of musket and pistol shots erupted between the two vessels. Bodies pitched over on both sides of the fight, clutching spurting red wounds, and screams of pain joined the din. Leaping across the boarding plank, Vixen squinted down the barrel of her weapon and fired. A burly sergeant went limp as her shot breached his brain pan, killing him instantly. Met at the edge of the rail, she parried a bayonet with her sword and brained her assailant with the butt of her pistol. Her remarkable and reckless behavior lent confidence to her shipmates, who began pouring down the wide board and meeting the Marines head-on.

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