Page 91 of Paid to the Pirate

Our saving graces were that we were both far back and high enough that the wave only blasted through to the top floors, breaking glass and sweeping away anyone beneath us. The building held through the initial surge, but more water swelled and instantly enveloped us; fierce currents tossing the other rooftop refugees about like rubbish thrown overboard.

Hold tight,I wanted to scream to Charlie as waves crashed over our heads.Hold tight to me.But I couldn’t scream and could barely hold on. We sputtered water and clung to each other as the waves continued to rush. Something hard smacked my leg and I prayed it hadn’t hit hers too.

For several minutes we gasped like that, fighting for air and to stay atop the roof as relentless wave after wave did its best to rip us apart and toss us off the building.

Finally, the water level sank, dipping beneath the roof and back to the second or third story of the building.

I stood, helping Charlie find her balance on shaking legs.

The water continued to recede, but the devastation all around us was unimaginable.

The earthquake had caused the majority, sinking half of Port Royal into the ocean, but it was as if that wasn’t enough for the hungry seas. The wave came as a final sweep, clearing out whatever it could within its angry path.

Only two others remained on the roof with us. The rest had been swept away, though I couldn’t say if they were alive or dead. When the water dispersed enough, we made our way back to the ground floor in stunned silence.

I half-carried Charlie, who’d lost her shoes to the sea. And her hairnet and each of the ear bobs. Her dress was torn and filthy. All the hard work from Estelle had been spoiled within minutes. It was as if the world had refused Charlie’s gown, her appearance as a lady, and shoved her back with the likes of us.

Even in the wake of devastation, some looked to profit. Whether it be the finest city in the world or the most infamous, like this one, that could always be counted upon.

I spied a man with a horse, selling it at an exorbitant price, and I paid him.

“Wait,” Charlie protested. “We have to help.”

I shook my head. “My obligation is first to my crew and you’re in no position to help anyone in your condition.”

“These people are innocent,” Charlie said, holding my eyes. “You’re nothing butpirates.”

“There are many innocent here, aye, children and more -- but if you think this town doesn’t live up to its name you’re more naïve than I imagined,” I said. “Anyone you’d help has more chance of being a scoundrel than a saint.”

Charlie scowled, some of her old spirit coming back as the shock abated.

“And you can barely stand,” I pointed out, “let alone walk. Now we’re returning to my men and I don’t want to hear another word of protest. Or you can imagine what I’ll do to you later.”

I mounted the horse and Charlotte begrudgingly climbed up behind me, wincing as she put more weight on one lacerated foot. She hiked her tattered skirts up to her knees as she sat. No one noticed the impropriety with all the destruction around us.

With my heart in my throat, I rode as fast as I dared. My men and I had faced so many battles together, but this was different. It was as if God struck his hand down to spite our sinful city, and I knew that was exactly what the preachers would preach.

Conks, Johnson, Miguel, Maurice… even Robert,I thought.You may be my rival but you are like a brother. Maurice raised us as such.

When we crested the hill, I exhaled at the sight of my undamaged ship, floating in the protected inlet, away from the epicenter of the surge. I may have even thanked Charlie’s vengeful god.

She’s safe. The Dark Blade is safe. Hopefully, the men aboard fared as well.

Conks was the first to greet me when we reached my ship, clapping my back as he gave me a tight hug. “We’re all accounted for,” he said, before I could even ask the question. Maurice, usually sparse in giving affection, also wrapped me in a rare, fatherly-style hug.

“What’s it like down there?” Conks asked. “How bad is it?” But before I could answer, Robert pushed his way to the front.

“I told you women are bad luck,” he said, sneering. “If it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t even be here today.”

“We needed to come to port anyway,” Johnson argued. “If it weren’t for her, we would have docked at the wharf and we’d be as good as dead with the rest of them.”

The men murmured, divided.

It took some time and more than a little fast-talking on my part, but I managed to convince the crew that Charlie’s presence was our salvation, the one thing that had kept us all alive. Putting it to vote, the men agreed that she could remain aboard, and a fair half did so with gratitude over resentment.

Charlie remained indignant, viewing herself as my captive -- an attitude that didn’t improve over the course of the next few weeks, which seamlessly turned into months.

It might not have helped that whenever she stepped out of line, I threatened to put her back over my knee.

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