The Blue Diamond (The Razor's Edge Book 1) (26 page)

“What are we doing, Ke?”
Cassandra shouted as she stuffed another round into the gun barrel.

“Saving our asses!
 
Now, shoot!” Keara screamed over the mayhem,
as she swung her sword at the pirate approaching quickly on her right. The grip
was thick, and she held on with both hands as it crossed his body, tearing away
the front of his shirt, but missing skin. He crossed her sword with his ax on
her backswing and caught it, flipping it from her hands. The sword bounced
across the deck three feet from her, and she ducked his blows until he, too,
met Cassandra’s dead shot.

“Where’s Miranda?”

“I’m over here!” she cried
out, “Help me cut us free!” Miranda picked up the ax and began swinging at
every line that connected them to the merchant ship. The ropes popped and
snapped with every blow she landed. Cassandra dropped the pistol and ran. She pulled
a dagger from her belt and tried cutting through the lines, but they were too
thick. “Cass, get the gun!” Keara shouted, as two sailors came battling towards
them.

Keara swung her broadsword,
cut the last line, and then turned fast, meeting one of the men straight on.
She pulled the sword back over her head and brought it forward with a force
from deep inside and let it go. The steel entered the sailor’s chest with a
solid thud. He staggered backwards two steps and then fell forward, driving the
blade through to the grip.
 
Cassandra
made easy work of the other with her pistol aimed neatly to the side of his
head.

Ivory’s arms felt like lead
as she continued to battle Barclay on the quarterdeck. As the ships pulled
apart, Barclay turned his attention to the rail for a second, and Ivory let out
a roar and swung hard. With a powerful blow, she sliced through the thick linen
sleeve of his surcoat, taking his arm from the elbow down. Barclay wailed in
agony as he watched his severed limb, still gripping his broadsword, roll to a
stop.

Covered in his own blood,
Barclay staggered to the rail of the ship, clutching his bloodied stump. He
fell to his left, catching himself on the rail under his arm, and he gritted
his teeth as he looked up at Ivory one final time. “I told you, didn’t I?”

“You’ve told me many things.
None of which I find worth mentioning at the moment.”

“I told you that you were a
pirate.”

Ivory scoffed at him and
moved in until the tip of her sword was mere inches from his nose. “What was
that you said before about no quarter?”

“Look at me,” Barclay
groaned and then laughed. “I’m already dead.”

Ivory drew back her sword as
her cousins looked on in horror. With slow, calculated precision, she pressed
the point of her blade to Barclay’s chest.
 
But, before she could drive it through, he rose up and pushed himself
forward onto her, until the brass buttons on his coat pressed hard into her
knuckles.
 
Ivory shoved him off and
pulled back. Barclay’s dead body fell away from her as the sword, soaked red, slid
free of him and hung from her hand.
 

 
The merchant ship was now a good three
hundred yards away, and the water between the two ships was littered with
sailors who’d tried to scramble back as the lines were cut. “What do we do
now?” Keara asked, flopping down onto the deck.

“We go after that ship and
find us a crew. We can’t sail this thing alone.”

“Do you honestly believe
that any of that lot will follow us now? Ivory, we’re surrounded by men who
were loyal to Barclay.”

Ivory turned and glanced
over the bodies scattered about. She breathed deeply and a sense of pride,
laden with remorse, washed over her. She looked down at the bloody sword in her
hand and shook it away from her.
 
Then,
she pulled a rag from one of the dead men’s pockets and wiped one side, and
then other, until the blade was clean. “You ask me that as if we haven’t done
this before. So, my answer is, in a word… yes.”

“Yes?” Miranda asked.

“The code says any man who
wants to be captain can, when they challenge the captain and win. I’d say I
won, wouldn’t you?” Ivory answered, flipping her head at Barclay’s lifeless
body.

“You would be correct,” said
the very thick voice of a native Jamaican man, as he appeared seemingly out of
nowhere with his hands in the air.

“Where the hell did you come
from?” Keara asked, leaping to her feet and raising her sword at him.

“I have been here all along.
I am no one, really; only a man who wishes to stay alive until we reach
Jamaica.”

“Turn around,” Ivory
ordered, as she nodded to Cassandra to search the huge man for weapons, of
which he had none.

“I can assure you I am
unarmed. I will obey the code. I only want to live so that I may return to
Kingston once we make land.”

“What do you think, Ivory?”
Keara asked aside.

“Can you sail this ship?”

“That I can do, yes, but I
will need assistance.”

“If you help me with that
lot, I’ll take you to Kingston,” Ivory said, pointing her sword at the drifting
ship.

“What about the crew?”
Cassandra asked Ivory, but her eyes remained fixed on the stranger, and his
unusual green eyes.

“Any man left standing will
go free, but the ship is greatly damaged, so they won’t be going anywhere until
they can make repairs. Let’s turn this bitch around and go get what we came
for.”

Once back aside the merchant
ship, Ivory told the Jamaican man to keep his hands in the air and feign
capture as she called out to the crew of the
Demon Sea
and offered them to return to the ship.
 
She added that any able-bodied man aboard the
merchant ship was welcome as well.

“Ye killed the Cap’n, did
ye?” Barclay’s bosun called out across the water.

Ivory only gave the man a
hard nod.

“I s’pose by order of the
code, we have no choice but ta’ name ye the new Cap’n. Doesn’t mean none of us
like it, but we’ve only a few more days ‘til we make Port Royal. Once we’re on
land, you ain’t me Cap’n no more.”

Once all of the remaining
crew was brought back aboard, as well as most of the leftovers of the merchant
ship, they were loaded down with fine silks, spices, and sugar, and were back
on their course, but now with a detour to Kingston. There were other sails
sharing the waters, but Captain Ivory Shepard, now known aloud by those who’d
heard the story of her conquest in Charles Towne as the Razor, lowered
Barclay’s red demon colors and cared only to reach Port Royal… and get on with
a new life for them all.

Chapter
Twenty-Seven

“She’s loaded and ready for
sail, Cap’n,” Willy said as he approached Ivory. She sat lying back on the
steps leading to the beach house, waiting for Keara. She turned back over her shoulder
as she heard her cousin close and lock the door.

“Keara, do you…?”

“I’ve got them. Let’s get
this done,” Keara groaned as she exited the house and nudged Ivory on her way
past then stopped, and reached out her hand.
 
Ivory snatched it and pulled fast to her feet. “Aren’t you the lively
one this evening?”

“I was thinking back on some
things,” Ivory said.

“You’re the one who always
tells us that’s the worst thing you can do,” Keara pointed out.

“I was right.” Ivory tramped
through the sand in her knee boots and leapt into the last boat out to the
Cutlass
. She pulled an oar and spoke not
a word for the short trip.
 
Reflecting on
the death of Barclay and those of his crew didn’t pain her so much as recalling
the look on her cousins’ faces when she had pointed the sword at his chest. To
that very day, she wasn’t sure if she’d have done him in, if he hadn’t done it
himself, and if he didn’t bleed out anyway. Ivory didn’t go in for cold-blooded
murder, but in defense of herself and her loved ones, she’d take an arm and a
life with little thought of it afterward. Turning points were her boldest
memories. Even points that most people may not find worth mentioning again
stood out to her like the color red. Everything else just fluttered by in
shades of gray.

Maddox was the only
exception to that rule. He was red from top to bottom from the moment she’d
opened her eyes to him, and it wasn’t just his sash and coat. Those pretty eyes
that invaded her soul… and his rings… and his ruffles…. and his fat, fluffy cat…they
were all red. So many things she thought about, and yet they never left her
lips. It hadn’t even occurred to her that everyone close enough to notice had
already discerned her complete shut-down taking hold, and those whom had seen
it before feared the worst. Blocking out the world was a skill she’d mastered
since childhood, and her silence meant only one thing was on the horizon;
action.

“James, have you the course
mapped?” Ivory asked as they boarded.

“Of course, Captain. We’re
steady as she goes.”

“I’ll be in my quarters.
Keara, she’s all yours.” Keara nodded in response.

Once in her cabin, Ivory sat
down at her desk, pulled off her boots, and flexed her feet. She pulled the log
towards her and filled the quill with ink. She thought about Miranda and Sandy
and how they’d already begun their new lives while she was still chasing her
own. It felt strange to her not to just lie back in her bunk and dictate to
Miranda as they both laughed and bickered. She knew there were many things
she’d miss once this deed was done and she was off in search of her new life,
but nowhere in her daydreams could she find a home.

* * * *

“Land, Captain!” a young
sailor called out with a knock on Maddox’s cabin door.

Since the dawn had barely
shown its face, Maddox saw no reason yet to rise. He lay back in his bunk and
lifted the open book of sonnets from his bare chest. It was tacky, and the
pages peeled away from him as he raised it and recalled where he’d left off
some hours before.

How
heavy do I journey on the way,

When
what I seek, my weary travel's end,

Doth
teach that ease and that repose to say,

'Thus
far the miles are measured from thy friend!

The
beast that bears me, tired with my woe,

Plods
dully on, to bear that weight in me,

As
if by some instinct the wretch did know

His
rider lov'd not speed being made from thee.

The
bloody spur cannot provoke him on,

That
sometimes anger thrusts into his hide,

Which
heavily he answers with a groan,

More
sharp to me than spurring to his side;

For
that same groan doth put this in my mind,

My
grief lies onward, and my joy behind.

He recited the poem again
with his eyes closed.
 
He remembered
falling asleep after having read it repeatedly, until it was embedded into his
brain. There were many others which had held his attention, but once
Shakespeare’s fiftieth sonnet found him, he stopped turning the pages.

“My grief lies onward, and
my joy behind.” He slammed the book closed and dropped it to the floor next to
his bunk. One leg dangled towards the floor with one pointed toe’s very tip
resting against the cool, rough wood. His mind filled with images of pale blond
hair and sun-kissed golden cheeks. He lay back between dreams and reality and
succumbed to the memory of her asleep, and then awake and trapped in his arms.

The room was scented with
dampness and cold candlewax, but his memories were flooded with a mixture of
cucumber, lavender, and Ivory’s own sweet fragrance. His heart raced, and the
air he breathed was heavy.
 
He stretched
as it escaped him, until his lungs completely deflated, and his chest fell
flat. All at once, he sat up. His hands rushed through his curls and down over
his aching neck. He arched his back and then fell forward and rested his
forearms on his knees. It was then he noticed the tapping at his door and shouted,
“Come in!” He was still far too weighed down in spirit to rise.

“Good morning, Maddox. We
should reach Kingston by noon,” Green said as he folded his hands behind his
back.

“Very well, then.
 
Was there anything else?”

“Nothing of note. All crew
members are accounted for and looking forward to land.”

“Aye, something to look
forward to indeed.”

Green walked to the bunk,
lifted the book of sonnets from the floor, and turned it over. “Sonnets?” he
asked with a raised brow.

“Yes, sonnets…and your point
is?”

“If you do not mind my
speaking openly…”

“When has my minding
anything ever stopped you?” Maddox rubbed at his eyes and pushed himself up by
the knees. “By the way, do you ever sleep?”

“When we reach Kingston, I
could inquire as to Madame Ivory’s well-being, and perhaps I could arrange to
contact her. To be honest, I intend to make the journey to Port Royal and make
inquiries on my own behalf.”

“Well, good for you. At
least one of us has intentions beyond sleeping for days.”

 
“You have intentions as well. You simply
choose not to follow them.”

“Maybe it’s exhaustion or
insanity…” Maddox’s voice lowered to a nearly inaudible level but Green leaned
in and heard every word. “But, you’re right, you know? I’ll join you in your
intentions, if for no other reason than to close this book and return this
blasted thing.” Maddox lifted Ivory’s pearl handled razor from the desk and
tossed it to Green.

“We will be forced to travel
in disguise.”

“Disguise? What disguise?
I’m dead, remember?”

“How long do you think it
will be before one of these fools exposes the fact that you are very much
alive? We will have thirty days, at the most, to relocate.”

“Relocate? Why bother?
 
Money speaks far louder than rum.”

“Money procures rum. Rum is
everywhere. Money will not stop them from their drunken ramblings anyway, if
that is to what you are referring.”

“Alright, alright… you win.
Dammit, Alphonse, the older you get the less pleasant you are to chat with.”
Maddox lit his pipe and sulked into his favorite chair. “Choose the most loyal
and offer them passage to Port Royal…with a bonus.”

“I always do my best to
speak only the truth, which is something you require constantly. How frustrated
do you imagine that I am?”

“Is that a smile I detect
there?”

“I cannot deny my pleasure
in finding you more in agreement this morning. It is a rare treat. However, I
must ask you if we are, in fact, solely returning this meager weapon?
 
Or are you hoping to acquire a more
substantial reward to compensate for our trouble?”

“The diamonds?”

“It had crossed my mind.”

“The only diamonds I’m
interested in are the jewels of closure and no regrets. However, finding Ivory
raises the level of danger whilst she still has them in her possession.”

Green’s eyebrow arched with
suspicion at Maddox as he turned back to him from the door. “Do not even think
it. I long for the arms of my love about my neck, not the noose.”

“One and the same, if you
ask me.”

Green chuckled. “Why don’t
you read some more of Master Shakespeare? I will secure those loyal men, and we
will turn about once we’ve collected our belongings. Will you be bringing
Lasher and Zara?”

“Bring a black cat
and
a
woman aboard ship? It’s difficult to find loyal men without superstitions as
well. I think under those conditions, we would be sailing her alone.”

“I only thought to ask.”

Maddox tapped out his pipe
and poured a goblet of water. “I’ll see you on deck shortly.”

Green was gone and Maddox
sulked on for an hour. “Leave my cat?” he whined aloud.

* * * *

“Zara! Where are you?”
Maddox shouted upon entering his home. “Zara!”

“She is gone, Captain,”
Roman said as he met Maddox in the dining room. “She packed all of her
belongings and left the day after you departed for Nassau.”

“Well, did she leave a
note?” Maddox shouted and slammed his hat down on the table.

“Nothing, Captain. Only
this...” Roman reached into his jacket pocket and produced a ring. It was a
ruby, at least five carats, set in a golden rose. It was the ring he’d given to
her mother, and upon her death, he had passed it to Zara.

“You’re certain she said
nothing?”

“Only that she wished you
well, and she’d written down instructions for your favorite dishes as well as
her balms, but to only share the balms with Madame Ivory because she was hoping
to sell them to the wealthy plantation ladies.”

“Why would I give those
balms to Ivory? As far as Zara knows, Ivory is in jail or dead…” Maddox stopped
shouting and caught himself on the back of a chair. He leaned onto it for a
moment and then realized Zara knew all along that Ivory would escape.
The clothes…access to a dagger in order to
cut the dresses…Zara packed the trunk.

“Is Madame Ivory hung,
Captain?”

“No, no, no. She is very
much alive. Roman, do you realize this is the first time I’ve ever been
betrayed by someone so close to me, and yet I’m not the least bit angry?”

“I don’t understand you,
Captain.”

“No need. Where’s Lasher?”

 
“Asleep in Madame Ivory’s room, sir. He has
slept only in there since you left.”

Maddox rushed to Ivory’s
room and found it as he saw it last, but for the large, black feline curled
tightly on top of the pillow. “Lasher, my boy!” Maddox cried as he raced to the
bed and leaned down, stroking the waking cat and meeting his deep emerald eyes.
Lasher rose and stretched to the tips of his toes, arching his back to meet
Maddox’s hand. “I’ve missed you, my boy.”

He couldn’t imagine leaving
his pet, but knew superstition ran deep at sea. He spent several minutes with
his faithful friend, telling him the tales of Nassau, and how he had to leave
now… for good. He spoke to the animal as if it would answer him, and he was at
last at peace.
 
In telling all to Lasher,
he told all to himself.

* * * *

Within hours, everything he
owned of any value and significance was loaded aboard the
Cat
. The house was handed over to Roman, under the condition that
Lasher always have a home there. Roman joyfully accepted the offer, and even
sent word to Zara to please come home and stay at Maddox’s insistence. He
handed Roman the rose ring as he bid him a final farewell, and told him only to
give it to Zara with the message, “Thank you.”