"The Pirate Princess" (closed)

Aboard the Martha, in the Tarpum Bay

Pursuing the Spanish Cargo Ship


In contrast to Thomas's sound sleep, Lizzie's night had been interrupted continually by shots of pain through her side and arm. She finally gave up when she felt the effect of the Martha's sails filling with a strong wind; suddenly, all she could think about was knowing whether or not they were close to the Spanish vessel.

She cleaned her fingers and privates with warm water from a tea kettle that was always kept warm on the Cabin's little stove. Dressing as she typically did, Lizzie exited out onto the quarterdeck, finding Thomas already up and around. She stepped up close to him, saying about them, "Two sides of the same coin."

The Officer of the Deck pointed over the port bow when Lizzie asked the status of the chase. In the distance, not nearly as far as she had expected, lanterns were bobbing on the sea. The OOD said, "We've been watching them for almost two hours, Captain. They ain't moving. Something's wrong, but don't know what. There's no reefs or shoals here 'bouts."

"They could be administering some punishment," Lizzie offered. When a crew member of Martha was lashed or keel hauled -- which she'd only seen aboard this ship once, thank god! -- the sails were furled so that each and every man could be dismissed from their duties to observe the punishment. "Maybe repairing a mast...?"

She listened to Thomas's thoughts if he had any, then asked the OOD, "Can we get to them before the sun rises?"

"No, Captain," the man said without hesitation. "Even if they're still idle when we get there, it's still gonna be at least two, maybe three hours after sunrise. They're gonna see us well in time to fill their sails with wind and get going."

"But we're faster, right?" Lizzie asked, looking between the two men. She knew they were, but she asked anyway.
 
Aboard the Martha

Thomas had no idea what the Spanish were up to. Unless... "They could be baitin' a trap, Captain." Looking around, though, it didn't seem like they were gonna be easily surprised. It only took that one incident for everyone to be extra-vigilant. Twice as many men were watching the seas than were normal, and no lights were lit that could give their position away. Everyone was whispering if they needed to talk on deck, and were quiet as the grave if they didn't.

To Lizzie's question, Thomas nodded. "Aye, Captain, we are. And we've more guns than a simple cargo ship. But I've a feelin' we ought to be on our guard come sunrise. Who knows what they're up to. An' if they was punishin' a sailor, wouldn't we hear 'em? And why would they do it in the dead o' night? God judges the guilty, an' they'd wait for day for that. The night is for the devil, or summat like that."
 
Aboard the Martha, approaching the Spanish cargo vessel

"They could be baitin' a trap, Captain," Thomas offered.

He was right, of course; their target was to the northeast, but there could be other Spanish ships -- warships -- to the northwest, southeast ... both.

Thomas confirmed that the Martha was faster and more heavily armed, then commented that a punishment at night made no sense. Again, Lizzie knew he was right; the Spanish Captain would want his punishment clearly witnessed by every other crew member.

"Man overboard?" she ventured.

They discussed the options, but in the end, Lizzie decided to use her prerogative as Captain. She checked the current wind speed and direction and knew that conditions couldn't be any better than this. "I want every man on deck or in the sails, Mister Witham."

The regular watch and duty stations were set, but most of the crew was in their racks, resting for what could be a fight around midday. She continued, "I want every knot we can get out of Martha. I want to be as close as we can get before the sun rises ... and I want our speed already at the top after they do see us. Maybe it'll make them think twice before running."

She looked around herself, hoping for expressions of support, which she seemed to be getting. Looking to Thomas, she said, "Make it so."
 
Aboard the Martha, approaching the Spanish cargo vessel

The crew silently but quickly hopped to it, and soon all hands were on deck, on a gun or on watch. Thomas stepped up beside Lizzie and asked, "Sure you're gonna be alrigh'? Maybe ye need a bit more shut-eye before the morn'. An' what abou' yer cuts? Best someone take a look who won't need t' twist and turn and look in mirrors to see." It was the same reasoning as before, but before a battle it was important to make sure she didn't start leaking again.
 
Aboard the Martha, approaching the Spanish cargo vessel

Lizzie watched with pride as the whole of the crew took to their work; there were so many men climbing the rigging and tightening the sheets to get the most out of the sails. They would lose many of these men to the guns once they got close to their target, but for now, there wasn't a single bit of the ship's propulsion that wasn't at its peak in efficiency.

"Sure you're gonna be alrigh'?" Thomas asked her quietly after a great deal of impressive action.

He asked about both her wounds and rest. Lizzie wanted to stay where she was, admiring her crew, but she knew that Thomas was watching out for her. When she thought of him seeing her nearly naked again, Lizzie couldn't help but smirk, remembering the fantasy from earlier in the evening and how imagining Thomas inside her had felt so deliciously good.

"Perhaps," Lizzie said quietly.

She called the new Second Mate, Ansy, over to her. Ansy, who'd been born in and captured from Togo -- ironically by members of another Bantu tribe -- had been freed from a Portuguese cargo ship three years earlier by Lizzie's father. Robert had spent an hour or more most days teaching the very grateful man English, and today, Ansy spoke the language better and clearer than many others from the crew who'd been born with the language.

"Mister Witham is going to tend to my wounds," Lizzie told Ansy. "Send someone to find young Mister Carlson and send him to my Cabin with clean bandages and more hot water from the galley. You have the bridge. Keep us going strong,"

The very black man tipped his hat, saying, "Aye, Captain. Mister Carlson, aye."

Vincent Carlson was Martha's youngest crew member. His father had been a member of the crew and away from Nassau when the then-12-year-old boy's mother died of fever. Robert Thomas had taken the boy on as a Powder Monkey. After his father was killed in a rigging accident a year later, Robert took Vincent on as his Cabin Boy. Lizzie assumed that the now-14-year-old would be her charge from this point out.

"Give me a moment to go put something appropriate on, Thomas," Lizzie told her First Mate. She headed back to her Cabin, stripped off her outer layers until she was in just her pantaloons and a shift. Sitting in the chair where Thomas had helped her before, Lizzie pulled the shift up to expose her right side as she heard two pairs of boots approaching.

Even though she knew she shouldn't do it, Lizzie was going to thank Vincent for his help then dismiss him.
 
Aboard the Martha, approaching the Spanish cargo vessel

Thomas dutifully followed Lizzie towards her quarters once more, and once more he felt the tension start to thicken the moment she told him to give her a moment to put on something more appropriate, and he didn't miss the way she used his given name. Waiting outside the door along with Vincent, he heard her call them both inside, the young man hefting a container of water and some bandages so Thomas held the door for him so he wouldn't spill or drop anything.

He helped Vincent set everything where it would do the most good, wondering what may come next.
 
(OOC: Don't anyone get nervous about my minor underage character. NOTHING will EVER be said about him that is inappropriate per Literotica's rules.)

Lizzie's Cabin aboard the Martha

Vincent showed his great shock at seeing his new female Captain sitting there in her undergarments, then immediately casted his gaze to the floor as he carried in the bucket of water and bandages. Lizzie thanked him, gestured him closer, and pressed a Pound coin into his hand.

"Things will be different sometimes ... now that your Captain is a girl," Lizzie told him, reaching out to lift the boy's face to look into his eyes. "There will be a new set of rules. First, because I'm a girl and you're a boy, you can't simply walk into my Cabin without me telling you to do so ... like when you took care of my father."

"I helped him out of bed in the mornings," Vincent reminded her.

"I remember," Lizzie responded. She, of course, had always slept in the smaller bed over in the corner of her father's Cabin -- this cabin -- but, unlike Robert Thomas, she had been an early riser, and he most certainly hadn't been.

"I remember," Lizzie said, "but if you remember, I was usually already on deck before you fetched Papa. From now on, since I usually get myself up on my own anyway, you will no longer slip in to begin warming water on the stove or preparing the day's wardrobe or any of the things you did for Papa, understand?"

The boy's face began to show his concern, and Lizzie feared he was about to tear up. She knew why, of course, and quickly told him, "You're still my Cabin Boy, Vinnie. You just ... you have to knock first ... understand?"

He nodded his head, and Lizzie told him, "Go, head out then. Mister Witham is going to tend to my wounds and bandages. Stand outside the door there and make sure no one bothers us."

Vinnie tipped his hat and headed out, closing the door behind him. Lizzie looked to Thomas, explaining, "I wanted him at the door so's that ... well ... I don't want anyone thinking we're in here doing something inappropriate, and the boy at the door..."

Lizzie suddenly didn't know whether or not her assignment of Vincent outside had been a good idea. Did it look like she wanted her private time with Thomas...? That Vincent was keeping the others at bay? It had been intended to show that they weren't doing anything they shouldn't, because otherwise the boy would hear all.

Lizzie's only experiences with sex had been when she spied a crewman fucking a whore, with the both of them grunting and moaning and crying out; and with her own touching of her body, which she didn't do often because she'd shared a room with her Papa, but which sometimes had required Lizzie to pull a pillow to her face to silence her soft cries.

She pulled her shift up to expose the bandage on her right side, then leaned to the left to pull her pantaloons down to expose her hip and just a touch of her buttocks. "Sew away, Mister Witham. I pulled that one again, but it didn't bleed much.
 
Lizzie's Cabin aboard the Martha

"Would tha' be such a bad thing?" Thomas' voice had a softness to it that was unusual for the hardened pirate, and even more unusual was the expression with which he regarded the object of his affection. Clearing his throat, he seemed to dismiss the notion of doing anything untoward (but perhaps made it clear he very much wanted to) and began to check her wounds, first the one that had required re-stitching, then the other, making sure to change the bandages for both.

"All done, then," he said, his voice thick as he looked into her eyes, their faces close enough that each of them could memorize every pore of the other's visage. Then, just like that, the moment passed, as he felt rather than knew that now was not the time. He backed off, struggling to hide his disappointment (but failing to hide the bulge in his trousers, which wasn't difficult to spot despite the dark coloring) and tipped his hat before sliding out the door.
 
Lizzie's Cabin aboard the Martha

"Would tha' be such a bad thing?" Thomas asked about Lizzie saying she didn't want the crew to think anything intimate was happening here.

She wanted to tell him No, it wouldn't, followed by pulling him into her. But Lizzie knew that to begin something with Thomas here and now wasn't going to play well with the crew. She'd grown up with many of these men; the ones who'd been aboard Martha for years saw her as a sister and, sometimes, a daughter, while the newer ones who'd only ever known Lizzie as a blossoming, beautiful woman thought of her while beating their meat. To suddenly be sleeping with one of their crew mates, even as well-respected a sailor and pirate as Thomas was, might lead to some issues.

"All done, then," he said finishing up.

"Thank you--" Lizzie paused, conflicted on how to refer to him: Thomas, which was more intimate; Mister Witham, which was more appropriate. In the end, she only repeated, "Thank you."

He cleaned up the mess as Lizzie pulled her clothes into place; she wanted to put her trousers back on but couldn't wear the pantaloons with them, so she'd wait until Thomas had left to finish dressing. As he reached the door, Lizzie stopped him with a quick, "Thomas! I, um..."

She knew what she wanted to say to him but didn't know how to say it. Lizzie was now his Captain, his boss. She wanted him to be more than that, but there were ... subtleties to consider. She cleared her throat and finished, "When we're back in port ... hopefully with our holds full of Spanish loot ... I'd like to sit down with you ... have a talk. Maybe Talulah's?"

Talulah's was Nassau's nicest restaurant, catering to the wealthier, more legitimate class of residents and merchants; pirates were not allowed through the doors unless invited by a legitimate businessman with whom they wished to do business. The restaurant, which sat at the base of Fort Nassau, was actually owned by Captain Hornigold, the Fort's current owner. Hornigold had more than a dozen men -- at the door and positioned about the street -- who ensured that the place was never visited by the scum of New Providence.

Referring to the fence through which Robert Thomas had cleaned the majority of the Martha's looted goods, Lizzie said, "I'm sure that Hannah Worthington would extend us an invitation to dinner..." Her expression became suddenly more solemn before she finished, "...once she hears about Papa."
 
Lizzie's Cabin aboard the Martha

Thomas turned back and when Lizzie made her offer, he smiled. "That would be wonderful, Lizzie. An', let's drop the formalities when it's jus' the two o' us. We both know wha's in t'other's heart. Ain't no reason to pretend otherwise. Bu' I ain't gonna push ye to do summat tha' will set off a shitstorm. See you at sunup, m'dear Lizzie." After lifting his cap to her he made his way back on deck and silently made sure all was ready for the sunrise.
 
On deck of the Martha

The sun rising up out of the sea to the east blinded the men of the  Martha, forcing them to continue after their prey unable to actually see it. It was ironic that during the night, with only a lantern or two alight, the Spanish ship had actually been easier to see and track.

It was almost an hour after sunrise before a man on the bow called out excitedly, "There she is! There...! Dead ahead."

Lizzie -- who had laid down to rest after Thomas's departure -- was just coming out onto the quarterdeck when she heard the man. She stood back and watched instead of injecting herself into the situation; Thomas and his officers seemed to have the crew humming.

Moving to the railing, Lizzie found their prey much closer than expected, perhaps just 8 miles distance. Lizzie looked to Thomas, smiling; he'd likely had to make some educated guesses during the blinding sunrise, and they'd paid off.

The Spaniard was at full sail, its Captain and crew attempting to flee. But Lizzie knew they couldn't; Martha was simply too fast and maneuverable, allowing her to tack repeatedly without losing speed while their prize-to-be momentarily lost half their speed each time they tacked.

"Four hours, Captain," one of the crew told her, tipping his hat. "Five at the most."

She found Thomas and went to stand near him, asking, "Will they strike their colors, Mister Witham?"

There was no way to know that yet, of course. Only time would tell.
 
On deck of the Martha

After two hours, the Spanish struck their colors, not that that would save them now. After three, shouts could be heard from their prey, and Spanish-speaking members of the crew would translate that they are preparing to fight once the Martha draws close enough. "Righ' then, beat to quarters, men! Man the cannons, and prepare to give 'em what for!" A bell was rung to alert the crew to man their battle stations, which they all hopped to with speed and precision that would make their prey jealous.

Scanning the ship with his spyglass, Thomas said, "They've only four guns to a side, looks like. Maybe they think they can outgun us?" At the end of the fourth hour the ships were nearly lined up for a broadside, and as soon as they were in range some of the crew of the Martha opened fire with a volley of musket fire and swivel guns from the foredeck. Several Spanish sailors fell, including some of the gun crews, and rather than stand around and reload, a second round of musketeers from the Martha replaced the first and finished off the rest of the sailors who were only making a half-hearted effort to get their guns ready to fire. The highest-ranking surviving Spanish sailor ordered the sails furled and surrendered to the Martha.
 
On deck of the Martha

Lizzie was disappointed to learn that the Spanish were going to put up a fight; it was almost always better to take a prize without a shot fired than to conduct a bloodbath ... or either side but particularly on the Martha's side. It always seemed to take forever to edge up to another ship, what with them traveling at single digit knot speeds, but it seemed like it took ten hours to get close enough to begin the attack.

While her father had been alive, Lizzie had never been allowed on deck during the initial boarding, let alone an actual attack. The chances of taking a round from a pistol or piece of shrapnel from a cannon ball was just too much for Robert to risk. Today, though, Lizzie insisted on being topside the entire time. She was Martha's Captain now; how would it look if she ran off and hid?

"They've only four guns to a side, looks like," Thomas said from Lizzie's side. "Maybe they think they can outgun us?"

"They're fools," she responded. She found the megaphone and was about to call out orders for them to release their sails, when she remembered something important: she was a girl, as she'd said to Vinnie earlier. What credence to I get telling them to surrender, a woman?

She handed the megaphone to the Quartermaster who was just standing around with nothing to do and ordered, "Convince them to surrender."

The man called across the ocean gap several times without result. Eventually, when Thomas indicated that they were close enough to begin, Lizzie shrugged her shoulders. "Give it to'em Mister Witham."

The round of musket fire caused Lizzie to flinch, then laugh in embarrassment. "It always surprised me, even when I know it's coming."

On the other ship, men fell or scattered, doing so again when the second volley of lead balls ripped through bodies, wood, canvas, and more. A moment later, the Cross of Burgundy which had been struck, then reraised, fell a second time. A cheer rose from Martha.

"Get us closer, Mister Witham," Lizzie ordered. "Keep the guns trained but get us across before some stupid Spaniard thinks surrender is a bad idea."

As they continued moving closer -- easier now that the cargo ship had let the wind out of their sails and began furling them, too -- Lizzie told Thomas that she'd be back and turned to go to her cabin. It was several minutes later that she returned with her hair pulled back in a French Braid and a leather cap atop her head.

Thomas would recognize it, of course; it had belonged to the famous female pirate, Anne Bonney, who -- along with two other pirates, Jack Rackham and Edward Teach, aka Blackbeard -- had been primarily responsible for running the last English ships out of Nassau back in 1714-1715.

Anne had given the hat to a then-15-year-old Elizabeth Thomas, telling her, "A true pirate has to have a true pirate's hat."

Lizzie had never seen a hat like this and asked, "What makes it a true pirate's hat?"

Anne had smiled, leaned in to put it atop the girl's head, and said, "You hav'ta kill a man while wearing it naked."

Lizzie's eyes had widened so far that her eyeballs almost leapt out. "He's naked ... or ... I'm naked?"

Anne had laughed and, noticeably not answering the question, continued, "After, you have to give it back to me, Lass, so I know you done the deed."

"I have to kill a man while I'm ... I'm ... naked?" Lizzie had asked in shock, still unsure of the specifics.

But Anne had just laughed loudly, turned away, and departed. Lizzie knew that Anne was still active, but she hadn't seen her since. Not that that didn't matter, of course; she'd killed a man, yes, but neither of them had been naked, so that hat was still hers.

Also new to Lizzie upon her exit from her Cabin was a heavy leather belt, into which were thrusted four flintlock pistols. They had been her father's, but Lizzie knew full well how to load them and use them; in fact, she was one of the best shots and quickest reloaders on the ship, probably because of her nimble fingers.

She saw Thomas's reaction and beat him to anything he might say with, "I'm going across with the boarding party. Don't try to talk me out of it, Thomas."
 
On deck of the Martha

Thomas chuckled and shook his head. "I was only gonna say tha' ye look damn good there, Lizzie, and I'd be damned if I would miss a minute o' ye struttin' about on the deck o' that Spanish ship." As the crew threw out grappling hooks and furled the Martha's own sails after they drew even with the Spanish ship, others discouraged further resistance with flintlocks, muskets and a veritable forest of bared steel.

When they were finally close enough, one of the Spanish sailors broke ranks and drew a flintlock; it was a testament to the discipline of the Martha's crew by comparison that only two shots rang out on their side, cutting the man down before he could bring his weapon to bear. Everyone else was conspicuously unbuckling belts and dropping guns and swords to the deck. When the gangplank was lowered to bridge the gap between ships, Thomas grinned and swept off his hat, and in a regal bow and sweep of his arm, he said, in a melodramatic way, "After you, milady." It was all in good fun, and several crewmen who weren't watching the Spaniards like heavily-armed hawks sniggered audibly.
 
On deck of the Martha

"I was only gonna say tha' ye look damn good there, Lizzie," Thomas said about her appearance, "and I'd be damned if I would miss a minute o' ye struttin' about on the deck o' that Spanish ship."

She playfully did a slight curtsy, then moved over to the railing to watch the goings-on. Despite the pirates seeming to have an absolute upper hand, one of the Spaniards pulled a flintlock with the intention of firing. Even as Lizzie was reaching instinctively for the butt of the pistol in the front-left of her belt, two shots rang, sending the man to the deck of the cargo ship.

As her crew regained the upper hand, Lizzie realized that she was trembling deep inside. She gripped the butts of two pistols in an effort to keep her fingers from shaking visibly.

When the gangplank bridged the gap, Thomas gestured playfully, saying, "After you, milady."

She laughed, bowing slightly and saying, "Thank you my good man."

Lizzie caught the men about her laughing; one of them curtsied to another, the second bowing back. She wrinkled her nose up at them and headed for the gangplank. A dozen men were already crossing or already across when she mounted it to cross; she'd pulled the two pistols in the front of her belt, remembering that earlier she'd failed to pull them quick enough.

Dropping to the deck of the Spanish ship, Lizzie couldn't help but notice the wide eyes looking her way. She heard some mumbled words: femenino, chica, and a general exclamation of Jesucristo. One man said to another man, who repeated it, along with several others, Anne Bonny, la reina pirata.

Lizzie had to smile at the thought of them calling her the Pirate Queen, Anne Bonny. She ignored them, instead looking around for a specific crew member, then calling out, "Dónde está tu Capitán? Capitán, quién es él?"

None of the men were quick to point out the vessel's captain, until Lizzie stepped closer to a man who was most definitely an Officer, pointed her pistol at his nose, and growled, "Capitán?"

The man hesitated, then pointed ... to a bloodied body lying on the deck; he was being helped and tended to by a man who was obviously the ship's doctor, a young cabin boy with tears in his eyes, and a very, very black man whose face was decorated with markings created with a blade. Lizzie lowered her pistol and stepped closer to the man who, she quickly realized, was already beyond help. Without looking up, she asked, "Primer Oficial?"

"I am the First Mate," a man behind her said in heavily accented English. When Lizzie turned to him, he looked her up and down with a disapproving expression. He growled, "You should be on shore ... make babies and please husband ... not--"

She cut him off with, "And you should be telling your men to sit with their backs against the bulwarks ... hands under their asses ... before I tell my men to slaughter them all."

"Your men?" he asked.

"Me llamo Elizabeth Thomas," she told him, stepping closer, "Y yo soy el Capitán de la Martha."

The Spaniard scoffed, but then stood a bit taller with widening eyes when Lizzie lifted the pistol and pointed it at his head. Immediately, he called out Lizzie's order in their own language, "Múvanse a la muralla, hombres. Siéntense, con las manos debajo de sus traseros. No resistáis."

Lizzie smiled with delight and relief. She looked to Thomas, then to other of her crew, then ordered, "Take it all, men! Take it all!"
 
West Indies Sea

Thomas led a brief cheer as the men began to loot the cargo hold, armory, and officer's quarters. A few of the lower-ranked Spanish sailors, as well as the African man, actually volunteered to join the crew of the Martha, a move Thomas encouraged; the ship's doctor, meanwhile, had murder in his eyes and spat when Lizzie's crew passed. No one among them would strike a teenager, particularly in this case, but patience was wearing thin. Finally, the Second Mate of the  Martha dragged him off to the already looted Captain's Cabin, locking him in.

After many hours, the Spanish cargo ship was empty of cannon shot, cargo, valuables, handheld weapons, pistol and musket shot. The haul was extensive and they gained at least a few crewmen in the end as well.
 
Aboard Martha, while looting the Spanish cargo ship

From the poop deck, Lizzie watched the crew of Martha loot their prize; under the watchful eye of flintlock-bearing guards, many of the Spanish formed a human chain to move hundreds of burlap bags of cocoa and sugar between the ships. She had Vincent store a half a dozen bags of each in the storage room off the hall to her cabin for the use of the crew over the days to come.

Thomas brought several of the Spanish ship's officer and crew up to meet her; for their own reasons, each requested to join the Martha. The desertion of the Spanish sailors surprised Lizzie, as the typical deserter during such an operation was typically an indentured servant, slave, or hostage. Thomas was confident of his choice, so Lizzie welcomed them all, gesturing them to the work as she told them, "You'll each get a share as well."

She heard about the Doctor and his extreme dislike of the pirates, leading her to ask to see the man. With escorts -- and the pistols still in her belt -- she crossed to the other ship's Captain's Cabin to speak to the man. He immediately burst into a tirade in Spanish, which Lizzie listened to patiently until she'd finally had enough.

"Silencio!" she hollered at him as she pulled one of the pistols, pointed it his way, and pulled the trigger. The hammer cock came down, sending up sparks and a cloud of smoke and firing forward the very large .54 caliber ball.

To be totally honest, the gun was too large for Lizzie, and she knew that. But she'd practiced with the big guns and was ready for the kick, lowering it to her side as the cloud cleared and she looked at the Doctor ... who wasn't dead but was cringing with his hands around his head. He looked to Lizzie, then to the bust of Philip V behind him which now was missing most of the right side of its face.

In Spanish, Lizzie lectured the man about criticizing her and her crew for the loss of his Captain and several of his crew members when the man could have surrendered his ship's cargo without a shot fired. Even though he'd calmed after the shot passed close to his ear, Lizzie could see that she wasn't changing his feelings, so she gave up.

"Lock him in," she told her escorts as she spun and departed. On the Spanish vessels deck, she explained to the vessel's crew that she'd left them enough food, water, and rum to reach Havana or some other friendly port. Then, still speaking Spanish, she gave them a second option: "Sail your ship west ... to Nassau. Hoist a white flag. You will not be fired upon. Turn your ship over to the Consortium--"

She had to stop when a sailor interrupted, asking, "Qué es esto ... este consorcio?"

She explained the cooperative organization of pirates and their business partners who had controlled Nassau since 1714, then continued to tell them that a portion of the ship's value would be divided between them. An officer stood up and chastised her for fomenting mutiny, to which Lizzie again pulled a loaded pistol and commanded, "Silencio!"

When the man went quiet, she finished by tell the Spanish crew that any of them that helped get their ship to Nassau would be welcome to join her crew. At that, two more sailors -- one a Spanish seaman and the other a Portuguese indentured servant -- hopped up and ran to Lizzie, begging to join the Martha. She looked to Thomas for his approval and went with it.

Then, she turned and crossed the gangplank, commanding, "Unhook us! Nassau awaits us!"

There was another cheer, and the crew jumped to their duties. It took several minutes to get underway, even with the preparations that had already been made; Martha crew continued to watch the Spanish with their pistols, muskets, and scatter guns at the ready. As they pulled away, she watched the Spanish crew as they jumped to fixing all the mayhem left behind by Lizzie's crew: lines and sails cut, the rudder disabled, and more. She'd been told that it would be until after dark before they could ever get underway again.

She joined Thomas, smiling. Feeling a great deal of pride, she whispered, "My first prize ... and a good one at that."
 
Two Days Later:

After chasing the Spanish cargo ship east across Tarpum Bay and then spending half a day unloading her, it took a full two days- - even with the winds becoming more favorable -- to finally reach Nassau.

It had been a miserable 48 hours for Lizzie; she'd developed a fever and spent the whole time in her bed suffering hot flashes, chills, and occasional fits of delirium; she thought that at one time Thomas was in bed with her, holding her, keeping her warm and ceasing her rolling fits, but -- once she'd beaten the fever -- he said nothing to her about it, so she concluded it had simply been a wondrous dream.

She was up and about, though, when Martha slipped into Port Nassau. She looked for the Spanish cargo ship, hoping that the crew had in fact mutinied. But even if they had, they wouldn't have beaten the faster Martha back.

"There!" an excited Lizzie said, pointing to an anchored schooner flying its familiar Jolly Roger. "That's her. That's her ensign. Anne ... Anne Bonny!"

Lizzie hadn't seen the famous pirate since Anne had given her the true pirate's hat so many years ago.

"I can't wait for her to hear what we've done," Lizzie said; she used we and not I without even having to consider which was more correct. She looked for the Second Mate, found him, and hollered, " Fly the pennants!"

The Mate did as ordered, pulling a line hand over hand and hauling up a string of colorful triangular pennants. Arranged as they were, they told the story of the past days: Spanish prize taken. 1 death. Captain. Blue Finn.

Those last two words were the Nassau pirates way of telling all of Nassau that the drinks were paid for by the Captain of the Martha tonight at The Blue Fin Inn.

Because the Martha was easily recognizable -- it was one of only 3 carracks working out of Nassau -- and because Robert Thomas's Jolly Roger was proudly flying from the stern, anyone who was anyone in Nassau would know that the deceased Captain in the message would be Robert Thomas. It saddened Lizzie to know that half of Nassau's pirate population wouldn't care; the only part of the message of importance to them was that they'd be drinking for free tonight.

Being a smaller ship with a shallower draft, Martha was capable of tying up to the dock rather than anchoring in the deeper portion of the harbor. By the time they were near enough to toss out lines, the dock and neighboring shoreline were crowded, both with people involved in the business and onlookers.

Thomas was in charge of deciding who got immediate shore leave and who stayed to both guard Martha to begin the offload. To further remind the crew who was their new Captain -- as if that was necessary -- Lizzie stood at the ship's end of the gangplank next to the Quarter Master as he handed out silver coins to the men heading to shore.

"This is just part of your share! ", she repeated several times at the complaints of minimal coinage. " You'll get the rest later. Remember 'bout The Blue Fin, and save your money for the brothel and baths. Give the girls a break; visit the baths first!"

About the time the last of the men were heading off Martha, Lizzie caught sight of a woman on the dock, wearing black clothes and a solemn look. Lizzie raised a hand to indicate that she'd seen her, then gestured that she'd come down to meet her.

"I have to go ashore, Thomas," she told her First Mate, "to make arrangements for Papa."

Unlike officers and crew killed on more lengthy voyages, Robert Thomas hadn't been buried at sea. He was to be buried in a plot on their small estate outside Nassau, next to his wife.

"Meet me for lunch as we planned," she said, looking to the woman on the dock again. "I won't be back tonight. I ... I have to be with Kate."

Kate -- the woman in black -- had been Robert Thomas's lover and love over the past few years. Lizzie had initially felt as though her father was betraying her own mother's memory. But then she came to know and love Katherine Lee.

Lizzie and Thomas spoke briefly of any other concerns he might have before Lizzie -- with a small bag in her hand -- headed to shore...
 
Nassau Harbor

Thomas looked on as the Martha sailed into port and would remain aboard while the cargo was unloaded and the total take counted. He could only nod at Lizzie when she told him to meet for lunch, he was too busy making sure all was in order.

Later on, he headed down to his quarters, entrusting the watch to another officer that he knew wouldn't get sticky-fingered ideas, and changed to a nicer set of clothes before finally disembarking the vessel and heading towards Talulah's where he was to meet with Lizzie. He carried his usual two flintlocks and cutlass, but the holsters and scabbard that held them were of material fitting with the rest of his attire. His tricorn even had a white feather in it.
 
The Estate of Robert Thomas, outside Nassau
The Next Afternoon:


From the home she had shared with her father and his new lover but which she now shared with with only Kate Lee, Lizzie had sent a messenger to Hannah Worthington's place, asking to meet with her for dinner at Talulah's. The messenger had come back half an hour with a counter: lunch, high noon. Lizzie had confirmed the plans, sent word to Thomas aboard the Martha, then headed on horseback to Nassau to make arrangements for her father's burial.

With that done, she boarded the horse, went shopping for a nice dress and frilly hat, and even put on ladies' shoes in place of her dirty, leather boots. She walked into Talulah's to find Hannah already seated and enjoying a cup of tea. The fence stood and waved Lizzie to her, wrapping her arms around her and exchanging greetings.

"You look marvelous, Elizabeth," Hannah said as they took their seats and poured Lizzie a cup of tea. "You're more grown up every time I see you."

Lizzie thanked her, confessing, "I'd rather be in my leathers aboard the Martha, to be honest."

Hannah's expression and tone turned solemn as she mentioned hearing about Robert's death; neither of them got into the gory details or that the former Captain's body had come back to Nassau in two pieces with the middle missing. "So, who is the Captain of the Martha now, Elizabeth."

Lizzie smiled widely, proudly. The other woman's eyes grew to twice their size as she exclaimed, "No! They didn't! They voted you Captain!"

They spent a couple of minutes talking like little girls -- Lizzie was, of course, 19 years old, but Hannah had just recently had her 24th birthday. At one point in time, Lizzie had thought that Hannah was going to be her father's next wife after he began pursuing her for both personal and business goals. That didn't happen, though, and Hannah had remained no more to Robert than his fence.

There was movement at the front entrance of Talulah's as two, then three, then four men crowded into the doorway, blocking another man's entrance. Lizzie giggled as she saw that the men were preventing Thomas's entry into the fine restaurant. She murmured "Uh oh, could be trouble."

"Not to worry," Hannah said as she rose to her feet. Lifting the front hem of her dress to allow her to hurry, she said, "Gentlemen, gentlemen. Mister Witham is my guest. Please allow him to be seated."

"He has to leave the pistols and sword at the closet," the man in charge said, jerking a thumb toward a room in which a man was curling the fingers of one hand; behind him was a wall of flintlocks and swords hanging on hooks.
 
Talulah's

"Well excuse me, sir!," Thomas sneered at the man. "For I was under the impression that Nassau was a place where a man could do as he pleased. Including bearing arms." He glanced at the man curling his fingers. "Fine! But if I come back an' you tell me my weapons have 'mysteriously vanished' I'll gut ye like a fish, you high and mighty prick." He unbuckled his weapon belt, held it out to the man, then dropped it to the floor before he could grab it. Cackling like a madman, he followed Hannah back towards the table and sat down.
 
Talulah's

As Thomas cackled at the bouncer, Hannah took his hand in a very familiar way and led him through the restaurant; people at nearly every table watched them with great interest, only turning away if they themselves caught either Hannah or Thomas's eyes.

"Sit, sit," Hannah said, arriving and taking her own chair. "I hear that there is good news ... for both of you."

They talked for a while , with Hannah promising them a full turn out for Robert's burial. "He was a great man, and he loved the both of you."

She looked to Thomas, smiled, and said, "He spoke of you often, Thomas. He said the two of you had more in common than just a shared name. He would be happy and proud to hear that his daughter is now Captain of Martha, and that you are the reason she is so."
 
Talulah's

"Well, she's the right person for th' job," he said, meaning every word as he looked at Lizzie with a bit more than just the admiration a First Mate has for his Captain in his eyes. "I'd follow her into Hell, mark me words. I can't wait to see where she'll lead us."

He wanted to talk business, particularly the disposition of their haul from earlier today, but wasn't sure how or even if he should bring it up here; Robert had often been the one to meet with Hannah and arrange for the safe sale of their ill-gotten gains.
 
Talulah's in Nassau

"I'd follow her into Hell, mark me words," Thomas said about Lizzie. "I can't wait to see where she'll lead us."

Lizzie laughed aloud, enough so to gain some short-term attention from others. Quieting down, she responded, "Prob'ly to Davey Jones's locker."

"We'll see," Hannah said, also laughing. "If what you've told me is any sign of what's to come, I think we're all gonna make a lot of money in the near future."

The waitress arrived to clear their dinner dishes, and once she was gone, Hannah jumped into the topic that was on Thomas's mind. She said, "Your father and I had an arrangement, Elizabeth. I gave him a better rate on most of his cargo than I gave to anyone else 'cept Hornigold, and the only reason I do that for the old fart is 'cause he protects the harbor with those big guns.

"But when we first started doing business together," she continued, "I charged him the same beginner's rate that I charged ever new Captain, just as my father had before me: 30 percent."

"What?" Lizzie exclaimed. "30%...? That's steep."

"There's a reason," Hannah continued. "It's 'cause I have to build a reserve ... case I take possession o' something o' yours ... and the owner o' it comes looking for it before I can unload it. If I have to eat a purchase from you, I can't really 'spect you to reimburse me from the Martha's treasury, can I?"

Lizzie didn't like paying Hannah almost a third of what they pillaged, but she understood from where the woman was coming. She asked, "How long? I mean, how many shipments?"

"Can't put a number on it," Hannah answered. "I'll let you know when I have enough cushion."

Lizzie looked to Thomas; he didn't like the deal Hannah was offering. Lizzie shook her heard lightly, telling him to let it go. "I'll make you a counteroffer. I'll give you half the value of the current haul ... but ... after that, you take us back to 15%."

Hannah considered the counteroffer, then gave her own: "You pay the transfer fees ... for the stuff I have to repackage 'cause they're labeled with the previous owner's name or logo."

"Once," Lizzie negotiated. "This prize. After that, you pay it, like you do with the others."

Hannah smiled, looked between her two lunch guests, and stuck her hand out to Lizzie. "Deal."
 
Talulah's in Nassau

Thomas made his displeasure at the terms of the deal abundantly clear with the deep scowl on his face. As far as he could tell, this woman needed no 'cushion' that she spoke of, she had more than enough money to face whatever problems she might have. It was this sort of bullshit that went against everything they were, or at least that he thought they were. Plus, what the hell was Hannah doing here in the first place? Wasn't the point of this so that he and Lizzie could talk, preferably about the feelings that made both their hearts race and loins ache?

As Lizzie closed the deal, he pulled out a small bottle of rum he'd kept in his vest pocket and took a drink from it before replacing it. "So, deal's done, everyone gets fucked a little bit, just like the kinda shite we're tryin' t' get away from. Didn't we come here to talk about somethin' else, Captain?" He looked directly at Lizzie, wondering why the hell he was here if they could have had a private conversation in a place that was, well, more private. And he couldn't shake a feeling of unease around Hannah even though he had no idea where it came from.
 
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