Page 3 of Good Duke Gone Wild

Well, now…that was an unbelievably depressing thought.

Chapter 2

“I’VE GOT YOUR CAPTAIN, now you’d better do as I say.” The words were permeated with the sickliest of stenches. It was one thing to be a miscreant, but did it always have to coincide with not using tooth powder? Come on. It was available for anyone to use. It wasn’t harmful in the least, and it was a great way for anyone to start their day. What was harmful was the plume of odor billowing out of this man’s mouth.

Which, really, shouldn’t have been Jude’s primary concern because, well, the knife to the neck was slightly more of an issue.

The blade against Jude’s throat pricked his skin, and he could feel the small dribble of blood crawl down his throat. Slightly distracted by the noxious gas enveloping his nose, he made extensive efforts to focus on what mattered.

In a moment like this, it would be natural for any man to panic, even slightly. Surely, a man’s heart rate would—and should—speed up. No one would fault him for excessive perspiration, least of all loosing a string of expletives that even the darkest, grimiest of pirates might shudder at.

But none of those reactions befell Jude. Therein lay the problem. He would say he was getting too old for this, but having just passed the hurdle that is thirty, he couldn’t claim that excuse. No. he was not too old for this, though perhaps too tired for it. The pillaging, the chasing, the danger…there was no appeal to it. This was really the last case of halitosis that he wanted to come cheek to cheek with. The appeal of this life was gone. No feelings at all in it, actually. No thrill. No terror. No curiosity. Nothing.

In fact, the only thought on his mind was how large the man was with the knife, and if perchance he might consider using tooth powder. That and switching sides. That is, becoming one of the so-called good seafarers. In a word, a privateer on Jude’s ship.

Because Jude and his crew could always use another behemoth of a man. So long as he was loyal and had some semblance of a moral compass.

Which…yes, that did pose a problem considering the large oaf was currently holding Jude by knifepoint, hoping to be led to his recent bounty. So that was the question. Could the man be trusted?

“Where is it?” the fetid-breathed oaf growled at him.

“I won’t tell you unless we’re alone,” Jude said, trying to breathe in and out through his mouth only. Which…he actually wasn’t convinced was a better idea.

“I’m not going anywhere without my mates.”

Hmmm…that sounded promising. Loyalty.

And at that precise moment, one of his mates must have lost the plot; forgotten the plan; misplaced his notes—of course, he likely didn’t take any notes in the first place.

He happened to be saying something salacious to one of the helpless onlookers who was valiantly trying not to onlook. Then again,seeing three large privateers standing ready to pounce on five disheveled pirates was a far better than most reason to onlook.

“Just give me five minutes up your skirt,” he charmed in a not-so-charming voice.

“Five?” guffawed a friend—at this point it was unclear whetherfriendwas the right term amongst these men. “You’ll take two minutes at most.”

“Shut your vile traps. Both of you,” the knife-wielding oaf ironically bellowed. “Have you all forgotten why we’re here? And get off that helpless woman. We’re not here for her.”

Hmmm…also promising. That seemed indicative, if not conclusive, of some moral compass.

The looks passing between the miscreants indicated that though they might not have forgotten the explicit task, they certainly had lost track of the concentration and motivation to complete it.

That look was enough of a cue to Jude. He raised his brows at his own men standing at the ready, and in an instant his men took over.

It didn’t take all that much effort considering the pirates (really not an apropos label considering their cowardice) fled the scene immediately.

Leaving only the oaf behind.

Yes. The three pirates may have been shipmates, but they most assuredly weren’t friends. Leaving a man to fend for himself was not the affectionate behavior of friends that Jude expected among his men.

In the shuffle, Jude had easily overturned the oaf, and now had a boot on his chest while his crew held the rest of the man down.

“I’ll let you go once you hand over your knife,” Jude promised.

“Apparently I’ve no use for it anyway,” the oaf said, loosening his grip on the knife so it clanged to the floor.

“Perhaps your mates aren’t as loyal as you might have thought?”

“Ha! Mymates, as you call them, are part of the third ship I’ve joined in a month. And I’ve come to the realization that there’s no such thing as loyalty anymore.”

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