Page 9 of Scourge of the Shores
She crossed her arms again and firmed her stance. “Captain Danna Chadwick. Descended from the first Pirate King of the North Sea. This is me island, and ye ain’t welcome here.”
Robert took a few steps back as the water sloshed on his ankles. His jaw fell agape. His mind stumbled over the name.
Chadwick.
The first Pirate King.
The line of legend.
And the woman wore the name like a blade in a sheath.
He swallowed hard as she continued.
“If ye venture past the island’s east side to discuss any troubles, ye’ll be alone and weaponless, and then I shall decide ye fate,” Danna said.
“Thank you for your compromises, Captain Chadwick.”
He spun around and blinked a few times to ensure he’d heard her correctly. He jumped in his rowboat while his crew pushed it back into the bay.
As the waves lapped against the vessel and the crew rowed, Robert peered over his shoulder at the beautiful pirate woman, a memory he would not soon forget.
“What a woman,” he mumbled, almost to himself.
Otto nodded. “And she be a Chadwick, too.”
But at Robert’s iron stare, Otto shut his mouth and averted his eyes.
The rowboat bumped against Storm Rider’s hull, and the crew scrambled aboard. Robert climbed the rope ladder, boots dripping, mind whirring.
He stepped onto the gunwale and fixed his gaze on the distant beach—on her. He glanced at the stone pier he’d missed upon arrival. At its crown, the spiraled “C” was etched deep—the same “C” on her dagger’s handle.
“Danna Chadwick,” he murmured again. A name from legend. A name with teeth.
Frank approached, hands still dusted in powder. “Trouble, Captain?”
Robert shook his head, eyes returning to the bleeding, sweat-slick goddess of pirate lineage standing on the shore.
“Not yet.”
CHAPTER 3
The Jaymes Encounter
The pirates crawled back into their ships in the distance, and the resulting sails unfurled. With its bright red hull of three gun decks and flippant white sails, the lead ship stood out among the brown hulls of two gun decks and raised black flags. Their ships were so much bigger than the village’s carracks and frigates, even her family’s galleon.
Pirates—not what Danna needed. If the sea dragon weren’t enough trouble, Pirate Kings on the eastern shore surely would be.
But part of her wished to be out on the open waves; part of it scared her. There was something about standing on a gunwale, swaying with the ocean, looking out at the night sky or the glistening water beneath a full sun that had always made her feel at home. The DeepMother’s soul called out to her in vain—a hollow call, not in invitation, but in cruel reminder. The sea was not hers to answer, no matter how deeply it called. Her duty was to her ancestor’s island, the village, and Ma. She turned her back to the sea as she had always done.
“We be needin’ a first watch of three for both Cain and these Pirate Kings.” She scanned the men and women before her. “Any volunteers?”
Lucas raised his hand at the chest. “I’ll lead the first watch. I need twenty.”
She tipped her head in gratitude. “I’ll keep a night’s eye on the burials in case a few scallywags come trekking through the jungle to flank us.”
“Ye think them Pirate Kings would attack a Chadwick?” Scotty piped up, questioning the need for watches. Jim crossed his arms. The others waited for Danna’s answer.
She spat on the ground next to her feet and crossed her arms. “Pirate Kings ain’t never cared for tradition.” Her fingers twitched toward her flintlocks. “All that Jaymes boy saw was legendary gold buried on our isle. Ye could see it in his eyes. I regretted passing me family name through me lips.” She glanced over her shoulder as the ships headed toward the eastern shore.
