Cerulean Isle (13 page)
“Since you were in the company of that swine, I can only assume that you are criminals.” More naval officers entered the shack. The commandant gave them an order.
“Emmenez les avec vous.”
The officers bound our wrists and forced us from the shack. We walked as the officers rode atop their horses. They pulled our black and white horses behind them. We ventured through town and came to St. George’s jail, a gray stone building with small barred windows. The commandant led us down a narrow hall and forced us into a small cell with cold iron bars. A mound of straw in the corner was the only means of comfort. An older man with curling grey hair looked on from the cell across the hallway.
Commandant Leopold untied our wrists. “You two will remain here until I decide what is best for you. Now give me your possessions, the pouches on your belts.”
“I’m not giving you anything!” shouted Grant.
Leopold struck him with the back of his hand, then shoved him to the ground. A stream of blood ran from his nose. Grant wiped at it, his hands balled to fists. I felt anger swelling inside of me. I leapt for the sword hanging from Leopold’s belt. My hand closed around the handle, and I drew it from the scabbard. The blade rang as I readied it, just as Beelo had shown me. Grant scrambled to his feet.
“Stand aside, Commandant,” I ordered. “We will have our freedom.”
He stood motionless, staring. I ordered him again. “Move away from the cell door, or I will run you through.”
He reached behind the tails of his blue overcoat to produce a pistol and aimed the barrel at me. “Hand over your belongings and live or come at me and die. Choose.”
“Here,” said Grant. He tossed his pouch, and it landed at the commandant’s feet. “Just take it. We’ll cooperate henceforth. Lower the blade, Jacob.”
I relinquished my sword and pouch. When the commandant opened our pouches and saw the silver eights and gold doubloons, he smiled wide, slammed our cell door closed, and secured the heavy lock.
“You’ve made me a rich man, young pirates. Enjoy your new home.” As he turned to walk away, the man in the cell across the hall stopped him.
“Leopold, you’re a rotten thief. It is you who belongs in that cell. Not them.”
“Silence, Martin, or I’ll see to it that the three of you are hanged at sunset.”
Martin pressed his round face against the bars. “You’re the biggest criminal in Grenada. Someday I swear you’ll—” the commandant punched him square in the face. Martin fell backward with a groan. Commandant Leopold left. I could hear our fortune chiming in his palms.
The cell was cold when night eclipsed Grenada. We sat on the mound of straw, frustrated and angry over the loss of our fortune. A guard delivered our dinner—grits and mugs of water.
Martin called out to us from his cell. “Are you boys well enough?”
Grant swirled his grits with his spoon. “Yes. We’ll be fine. Thanks for trying to help.”
“Wish I could’ve done more. Say.” He looked at me. “You’ve got some courage, don’t you? That was a bold move you made. I would’ve loved to see you cut Leopold down, but a sword is no match against a pistol.”
Grant swallowed a mouthful of the pale paste. “So what did you do to end up here?”
“Three months ago, Leopold and his men came to my farm and forced my son to join the French Navy. I knew I couldn’t possibly work the farm alone, and besides, I love my son. I didn’t want him to go.”
“So you tried to stop them from taking him?” I asked.
“That’s right. I did all I could, but I am just a farmer. My wife and I watched them take our only boy away, and with him went our chances for making ends meet. I was jailed for interfering in official matters. My wife, Anna, came to see me a week ago and told me that she’ll have to sell our farm soon.”
“I’m sorry for your troubles, Martin,” offered Grant. “When will you be released?”
“I won’t be, as long as Commandant Leopold is in charge. When it comes to fighting the French Navy, I am outnumbered.”
“We’ll just have to even the odds, then.”
“How can we possibly do that from behind bars?” Martin asked.
“No worries.” Grant took his spoon and snapped off the thin metal handle. “I have an idea.”
Grant jammed the spoon handle into the large iron lock. He had to reach around the bars to get to it, and in that position he was forced to pick the lock backward. The guards had begun patrolling the grounds, giving us a small window of time to escape. The lock popped.
Grant said, “Head for the doorway and watch for the guards. I’ll work Martin’s lock. Tap the floor if anyone approaches.”
I crept to the front door of the jail and peered into the night. The guards were gone, likely patrolling the rear of the building. After only a minute, Grant and Martin joined me.
We were free, running as fast as we could to our horses. I mounted my white horse and Grant saddled up the black one. Martin stole one of the guard’s horses and we rode down the shadowy road.
Martin laughed and inhaled the cool night air. “It feels great to be free, boys. Wondrous and rejuvenating! Hang on, dear Anna, I’m coming home.”
“Not yet, Martin,” Grant shouted over the hammering of the horses’ hooves. “Escaping was the first part of my plan.”
“What’s next?” I asked.
“Get the gold and put an end to Leopold.”
“We don’t know where he is.”
“I do. He’s celebrating his wealth. That’s what any man would do. What’s the busiest watering hole in St. George’s?” Grant asked.
“Cod Fish Tavern,” I answered, remembering Waylin’s earlier words.
“And that’s likely where he’ll be. Come on.” He cracked his reins. “Let’s get our gold.”
~~~~~~
Cod Fish was brimming with drunkards, sailors, and commoners. In the far corner of the room, pirates played cards beside a large open window.
“It’s a betting game, now,” shouted one to another. “Let’s up the stakes like men should.”
“Aye. Name your price for the next hand, and I’ll see me way in.”
“I’ve fancied that shiny gold ring you’ve got on that necklace since Bonaire. Buy in with that and we’ll have a game.”
“And what of you, mate? What are you offering?”
“Me dagger will pay me way in.” He pulled a long clean knife from his belt and put it on the table. “Me own mum used this blade on me pappy when I was boy. It’s been cutting down men since.” The pirates broke into a roar of laughter.
“Aye, a worthy prize to gamble for. Deal the cards.”
Commandant Leopold sat at the bar. He was out of uniform and wore a clean white blouse with brown pants and black shoes.
“Look,” said Grant. “Our pouches hang from his belt. I’m going to steal them back in a moment, but we must get ready.” The pirates roared again as the card game commenced. “Jacob, go outside and hide on the other side of the open window near the pirates’ card game. Once I’ve picked the gold off Leopold, I will pass it to you there.”
Martin interrupted. “I don’t like this plan of yours. Listen, boys, we’re free. Let’s just go home to Anna. We can relax and have a nice meal.”
I stood up, ready to do as Grant asked.
“You’re going through with this?” Martin asked. “You’re likely to get killed.”
“I’ve learned to trust Grant. Besides, that gold belongs to us, and I will fight for it however I can. We need it more than you know.”
Martin let out a defeated sigh. “What can I do to help?”
“Ready our horses and wait outside with Jacob,” ordered Grant.
Martin and I went outside the tavern and slipped around to the side window. From there, we could see the entire room.
“Ahoy! The prize is all mine,” shouted one of the pirates. After revealing his winning hand, he tossed the cards into the air. He scooped up the necklace bearing the gold ring and held it up proudly. The others cheered. He returned his dagger to its sheath.
“Be it well,” said the defeated man. “Lady Luck will be me whore before we set sail, you’ll see.” He leaned back in his chair and drank from his mug.
The winner kissed the ring and tucked it in his pocket. It was then I saw Grant creeping up behind him. Martin saw him, too. “What is he doing?”
Grant’s eyes were fixed on the pocket containing the gold ring. He snaked toward the men, stepping in and out of view, ducking behind patrons, vanishing briefly among the shuffle of the crowd.
“They don’t see him,” Martin exclaimed. “I don’t believe it.”
“It’s his good fortune they’re all drunk,” I remarked.
Soon, Grant was stooped behind the victorious pirate. He did not linger. He made one ghostly movement with his hand, and slipped back into the crowd. I lost sight of him for several minutes. I fixed my gaze across the room; Commandant Leopold called for another drink. He brought the mug to his lips, leaned back, and drank. Grant, the red-haired phantom, appeared behind him and in two moves had reclaimed our pouches. He slipped away.
Leopold reached for the pouch of coins to pay for the drink. He found only an empty belt and noticed Grant dashing across the tavern. “Stop that boy,” he shouted.
Grant ran toward the window. Leopold chased after him, knocking down patrons and stumbling over chairs. Grant reached the window and threw the pouches of gold and silver to me. Leopold grabbed him. “I’ve got you now, you little bastard!”
Grant shouted, “This man stole your ring, I saw him do it!”
The pirate sprang from his chair and checked the pocket where his prize had been. His face reddened, and his eyes became angry slits.
“That’s absurd,” argued Leopold. The men circled him. “Do you know who I am? I am Commandant Leopold of the French Navy. Stand down, all of you.”
“He’s lying to you,” Grant insisted. “He’s Grenada’s finest thief. He’s been at the bar all night waiting to pilfer your winnings.”
“Aye, that’s right,” said the pirate. He pulled his long dagger from the sheath and grabbed Leopold by the front of his white blouse. “You have been at the bar all night. I’ve seen ya there.”
“Check his pocket,” coaxed Grant. “You’ll find the necklace and ring there.”
“Silence, you foul little vermin,” ordered Leopold. He wrenched Grant closer to him.
“Vous n’avez pas raison!
There is no reason for that; there is nothing in my pocket. I can assure you.”
Grant’s hand moved behind Leopold.
“Then you won’t be minding if I have me a look. If I find me prize, you’re dead.” The pirate pulled Grant away from Leopold’s grip. “You’ve done well by me, lad.” Grant stepped away from the circle and made for the window.
The pirate checked Leopold’s pockets and found the necklace and ring. He dangled it in front of his face. “You lying, bloody thief. No one steals from a pirate and lives.”
“This is an outrage. I did not steal your—” Commandant Leopold’s words were broken as a dagger slammed into his stomach. A sickening scream echoed through the tavern as the pirate turned and twisted his blade. The commandant fell over, his face smacking against the wood floor. Blood pooled around him. The pirate held the necklace over his head; the others cheered and began dealing cards.
Martin led us up the hillside to his farm. The restless ocean shimmered through breaks in the tree line. The night was clear; the bright moon was high, and its reflection danced on the black, starlit sea.
“Keep riding, boys,” Martin called. “Rosewing is just ahead.”
“Your farm is called Rosewing?” asked Grant.
“Yes. All good farms are named; it’s a way of distinguishing the property and product. It creates pride and identity. My family has owned it for many generations. Rosewing was carved out of the fertile hillside by my forefathers. Up until recently, it was one of the finest farms in Grenada.”
We came to a two-story white house with many windows and a large porch. We dismounted and hitched our horses.
“Anna,” called Martin, racing up the short staircase to the front door. “I’m free!”
The door opened and there, holding a candle, stood Anna. Her face, confused at first, brightened in joy. Tears streamed down her face as she put aside the candle and threw her arms around her husband. They held one another tightly for several minutes under the light of the Caribbean moon. He whispered things to her, words I could not hear from the base of the stairs. She laughed and cried at the same time and pulled away from him to clasp his face in her hands.
Martin remembered us and quickly turned to make a proper introduction. “Anna, I’d like you to meet Jacob and Grant. They’re the reason I’m with you now.”
Anna came down the stairs and hugged us firmly. “I’ve been praying for God to save Martin; it seems He heard my prayers and sent two angels. Welcome to Rosewing. Please, won’t you come in? Let me make you something to eat.” We accepted her offer and followed her inside.
Lanterns warmed each room with a soft yellow light. The farm house was clean and larger than the ones I recalled from my village. The wooden floors creaked as we followed Anna through the halls to the dining room.
Anna served a hot meal of chicken, vegetables, and mugs of goat’s milk. She buttered warm rolls set atop small bowls of honeyed rice. As we dined, Martin told her all about the events leading up to our freedom. His account was animated; he impersonated me leaping for Leopold’s sword, then Grant crouching to pick the cell locks. Martin even did his best to mimic the pirates in the tavern. When he told the moment of Leopold falling to the floor, Anna smiled and clapped in delight of our victory.
“How can I ever repay you boys?” she asked.
Grant finished his rice and pushed aside his bowl. “In all honesty, we have nowhere to go. If you could show us around the island and help us find a place to live, I’d be willing to call us even.”
Martin refilled our mugs, then sat back in his chair. “Why not stay here with Anna and me? I don’t know how much longer we’ll have this place, but you’re welcome to—”
“You’re still going to sell the farm?” I asked.
“I’ve been in jail for too long. The crop has suffered, and we don’t have the help to work the fields. My land has died. We have no choice but to sell.”
