The Blue Diamond (The Razor's Edge Book 1) (30 page)

“Is this some kind of joke,
Captain Shepard?” Carrington shouted as he backed away.

A look of horror came over
Keara’s face.
 
“Ivory, what the fuck?”
Ivory met her expression with matching confusion.

“There’s been a mistake! I
can assure you the diamond was in here only last night.” She stared down in
disbelief as the yolk and slimy albumen oozed from the cracked eggshell on the
table.

“And I suppose I’m to
believe the rest of these are genuine?” Carrington barked as he sat back from
the table and folded his arms.

“Yes. They are completely
genuine. Apparently, I’ve been robbed.”

“I don’t do business like
this, Captain Shepard.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You
know the rest of these stones are real. Pay me for what I’ve brought you, and
we’ll be on our way.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that,
Captain,” a deep voice spoke, as the door creaked open and in stepped Phineas
Jackson, with a pistol pointed directly at Ivory.

“What is this?” Keara
shouted as she backed away and pulled her gun.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t
come to this,” Phineas said.
 
“I thought
your man Boston was fit for the job, but unfortunately, he had a brain the size
of a pea.”

“You sent Tommy after me?”
Ivory asked.

“You couldn’t have possibly
believed he’d have thought up something so clever on his own, now could you? It
was quite simple, really. He already hated the both of you, or rather all of
you. All he needed was a little push...and a boat. The lad must have run off. I
haven’t seen him since. At first I thought he may have succeeded. Alas, that
was a fleeting thought.
Although
that fifty thousand pounds would have been splendid, these diamonds will make
up for the loss.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have
trusted you,” Keara hissed, pulling her weapon and taking aim. “I ought to blow
your lying head off.”

“Ke, wait.”

“That’s right, Captain
Shepard.
 
Call her off before you both
end up floating in the river.” Jackson moved towards Ivory and circled her,
nudging the barrel of Keara’s pistol down and away. “You’re not so smug now, are
you?” he whispered as he brushed his mouth past her ear and pressed the barrel
of his gun into her ribs.

“What do you want, Jackson?”

“With over twenty thousand
American dollars in rare diamonds sitting on that table, you still ask me that
question?”

“They’re mine.”

“These four fine gentlemen
sitting here with their pistols in their laps beg to differ...and so do I,” he
said moving towards the table to get a closer look at his prize.

“Just take the fucking
diamonds, Jackson. I’m done listening to you. Here,” Ivory said as she tossed
him the empty bag.

“I’m happy at least one of
you wants to live. After all, I’m sure since your egg has turned out to be…just
an egg, you’ll have no trouble finding out who has stolen the real one, and in
the end, we’ll both get what we want.” Jackson tucked his pistol into his waist
and scooped the diamonds back into the bag, as Carrington sat and pointed his
gun at Ivory.

Ivory took a step back from
Carrington’s gun and watched as Jackson pulled the rope tightly to close the
bag. Suddenly, she shouted, “Ke!” as she lunged forward grabbing the table. She
flipped it back onto the men, sending them tumbling to the floor.
 
Keara pulled her pistol and fired once,
hitting Jackson square in the chest with such a blow he lifted from where he
stood and landed flat on his back—the bag still clutched in his hand.

The door banged open, and in
rushed Tobias and James, followed by the two sailors—swords drawn, slashing and
disarming any man who moved. Keara had Carrington by the collar, dragging him
across the floor, as Ivory unsheathed her sword. She swung it up and over her
head until it came down pointed directly at his throat.

“What is it with men like
you? Why couldn’t you just buy the damn stones and be done with it?”

“Jackson…he swore he’d kill
us all if we didn’t cooperate. I was ready to offer you an even twenty thousand
for the lot! He… he came earlier today with several of his crew and…”

 
With a loud roar, six of Jackson’s men poured
into the room, swords drawn. “Well, hello there, cutie. Remember me?” asked the
ruddy man with the missing teeth as he drew Ivory’s attention from Carrington
with a swift swipe of his broadsword.

Ivory returned combat. With
a hard upswing, she met his blade and threw it off, only to meet it again as it
flew at her head. With her swift block, their swords rang out against each
other, and the man leaned in so closely against her she could smell his rancid
breath. Ivory pulled up her knee with a thrust to his groin, and the man
dropped his sword and buckled, wailing and clutching his throbbing scrotum.
Keara, having run out of ammunition for her pistol, scrambled to retrieve one
of the guns from the floor and fired on the men, striking one in the
chest.
 
Then, she pulled her sword.
“Keara!” James called out as the point of his weapon met her widened eyes and
then drew back as it passed through the torso of the pirate about to remove her
head.

“Ke, get the bag!” Ivory
shouted as she backed up to her cousin and cut a path to the door. When she
found an opening, Ivory dove behind the upturned table and took a fallen pistol
in each hand. When she stood, she turned and fired on the two remaining pirates
and dropped them both with a dead shot to each head, as Carrington’s henchmen
cowered unarmed behind the table. As the air settled, Ivory’s two crewmen lay
lifeless on the floor, and James and Tobias stood over them. Their swords hung
from their hands like sledgehammers covered in blood. James was spent. He wiped
the spattered blood from his face with his sleeve as he stared at Keara through
wounded eyes and then fell to his knees at her feet.

“Captain, we need to go,”
Tobias whispered, looking back as if he expected a second wave of Jackson’s
crew.

Ivory stuffed both pistols
in her belt and looked back at Carrington. “Where’s the money?”

Carrington raised a
trembling hand and pointed to the table. “Tobias, help me,” she ordered as they
turned the table upright. “Where?” Ivory shouted.

“Push the lever and lift the
top panel,” he cried out.

Ivory slid her hand around
the edge and found the small lever. She pushed it until it popped, and the
table folded open at the center, revealing a secret compartment. Inside was a
small burlap bag, rolled over twice with the unmistakable shape of a stack of
American money tucked inside. “How much is here?”

“Why, it’s the whole twenty
thousand. Captain Shepard, please, you’re a woman of honor.
You…you…you…wouldn’t just steal a man’s livelihood like this, would you?”

Ivory scowled down at him in
contempt. She turned, walked to Keara, and took the bag from her hand. “Here!”
she said as she threw the bag, hitting Carrington in the face. “I’ve lost two
good men because of you, but if I never see another diamond before I die, it
will be too soon.”

James and Tobias lifted
their fellow crewmen onto their shoulders and headed out into the storefront.
The little man was nowhere to be found. “Ivory, we need to hurry. The runt is
gone. God knows where he went, or who could be on their way here right now.”

“I know.” Ivory pulled the
scarf from her neck and wiped the battle from Keara’s cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“Have you lost your mind?
You have nothing to be sorry for. What do you always say, Ivory? We do what
must be done, and no more.”

“Tell that to James. He
isn’t taking this loss well.”

“He’ll come around. I’ll see
to that.”

Keara rushed to James’s side
and helped him as they lifted the two dead men onto the backs of the horses.
“Thank you for having my back, James.”

He stopped and looked over
at her for a moment, as he secured the fallen man over the saddle with a rope.
His shirt was soaked in blood, and the creases in his hands were stained red.
“You’ve blood in your hair, love,” was all he said, and then he ambled to the
front of the horse, untied it, and walked off into the darkness.
  

Chapter
Thirty-One

When Ivory and her cohorts
arrived back at the ship, they hurried aboard, and she ordered the deceased
taken below and prepared for burial at sea by midnight. Willy met her the
moment she reached the deck, and she charged him with preparing for sail
immediately. “I realize by “immediately” the reality is within the next hour,
but we really must make haste to Port Royal.”

“Aye, Captain… that we
shall.” Willy carried on shouting to the men to cast off, hoist sail, and head
for home. Before waddling off, though, he turned back to Ivory with a pensive
look.

“Have you forgotten
something?” Ivory inquired.

“Nay, Cap’n.
 
I just wanted ta’ tell ye that we picked up a
fella, and he be waitin’ by your quarters fer ye ta’ sign him on. I hate ta’
bother ye with such things, but bein’ we lost two men today, Cap’n, and he
appears fit…I told him ta’ wait, as we has rules aboard the
Cutlass
. Ye know, the code and all,”
Willy said as he turned to go, but Ivory called him back.

“You know I don’t like
strangers, and there’s also another matter at hand. I’ve been robbed. Take
Tobias and James…” Ivory’s voice trailed off when she spotted Keara assisting a
limping James below to assess whatever injury he sustained. “Never mind.
 
You and Tobias will do. I want every man,
bunk, cabin, and duffle searched. By the way, where’s Richard? I haven’t seen
him all day.”

“I put the lad ta’ work in
the galley. Wasn’t much else fer him ta’ do, and it keeps him outta trouble. If
ye don’t mind me askin’, Cap’n, what are we lookin’ fer?”

“You’ll know it when you see
it.” Ivory started off to follow Keara and James. Concerned for his injury, she
wanted to see that he was properly cared for. Upon reaching Keara’s cabin, she
tapped on the door and called out in a low voice, “Ke, is everything alright?”

A second later, the door
pulled open and Keara stepped out into the hallway. “He’ll be fine. We’re just
washing up, and I’m tending to him. He won’t need the surgeon. It’s only a bad
bruise.”

“How are you?”

“I’ll be fine, once I get
out of these bloody things and have a drink or two. What about you?”

“Me?”

“You are the only one
standing here, aren’t you?” Keara remarked with a quizzical look.

“I suppose I’m just
unaccustomed to worrying about myself. I’m fine, though,” she answered with a heavy
sigh. “We’ll be out of here soon. Damn!
 
I just remembered there’s something I need to do. See you on deck later
for the services, I hope?”

Keara tossed her head back
towards James in the room and said, “If he’s up to it. Kipper, the chubby one,
was a long-time friend. James is taking it pretty hard.”

“Understood. All the more
reason to pay his respects, I’d say. Well…until tonight then.”

Ivory made her way down the
passageway in the growing darkness. She stopped and lit a candle on the way and
carried it in front of her, even though she’d taken that walk more times than
she cared to remember. As she passed Cassandra’s cabin, she knocked lightly on
the door. “Hey, I have something for you.”

Ivory lifted the satchel
strap over her head and held it out to Cassandra, as she only slightly opened
the door. “Twenty thousand.”

“And two dead men,”
Cassandra said as she stood at the threshold, holding the door open only as far
as necessary.

“Yes, unfortunately. But,
we’re going home, Cass.”

“Home? You mean we’re going
back to Port Royal.”

“Is something wrong?
 
Because if so, I wish you’d just tell me.”

“I’m just tired. We’re all
tired,” Cassandra sighed as she pulled the bundle of money from the burlap sack
and looked it over. “You were right; this is the end of the line.”

“You take care with that.
We’ve a thief aboard.” Ivory turned to walk away. “And please, don’t fret
yourself to death. I’ll get us to the end of the line all in one piece.” Ivory
nodded as Cassandra closed the door, and she continued to her cabin, fumbling
in her pocket for the key. As she approached, she noticed the door was slightly
ajar, and she leaned back to pull her sword.

With her powerful kick, the
door blew open and banged hard against the wall. Richard jumped and gasped,
nearly dropping the bottle of rum in his hand. “Sink me, Cap’n! You scared the
devil outta me!”

Ivory took a deep breath and
blew it out. “Richard, dammit, the devil has flown from me as well.” The room
glowed in soft candlelight. He had made up her bunk with fresh linen, brought
her a hot meal, and was about to pour her a cup of rum to wash it down. “I’m so
sorry. It’s been a rather trying day. Thank you for doing this,” she said as
she sheathed her sword.

“Yer awful bloody. I hope it
ain’t yers. I brought ye a fresh pitcher of water so ye can clean yerself up.”

Ivory leaned back against
her desk, and her shoulders fell forward as she rubbed at her brow and closed
her eyes. “I think I’ll just wash what I have to…and eat…and then get some
sleep. Wake me at ten, will you?” Richard’s eyes were wild as if it were more
than that swift kick of the door and a raised sword that still held them open
so wide. “What is it?”

“What is what?”

“What are you so frightened
of? I said I was sorry.” She stepped to him and circled him in the center of
the room. She felt guilty for frightening the boy, but her instincts, though
shrouded in exhaustion, were shouting in her head.

“I’m not frightened. Not
frightened a bit.” Richard stepped sideways around Ivory until he reached the
door. “Is there anything else, Cap’n?”

“Noooo…are you certain
you’re alright?” she asked as she appraised him.

“Oh! I almost forgot! One
more thing—wait here.” Richard dashed from the room, and Ivory closed the door
behind him. She whipped off her cavalier and hung it on the rack by the door,
and then lumbered back to her desk. She removed her belt and weapons, sat them
to the side, and then dropped like a bag of rocks into her chair. When she
leaned down with a groan to remove her boots, she’d barely pulled the first one
over her heel when Richard knocked three times on the door.

“Oh, for the love of Christ,
Richard, come in!”

“I’m sorry to bother you,
Captain Shepard, but this here fella is here to sign on”.

“That’s just wonderful,” she
said with a swing of sarcasm as she peeked up at the filthy sailor standing at
the door for an instant, just to ensure she wasn’t about to be ambushed, before
lowering her head again to remove her other boot. She threw them across the
floor to the foot of her bed and then fumbled through her desk for the crew’s
log. When she finally found it, she opened the book and shoved it across the
desk at the man. “Do you have experience because I normally don’t take on men
of your advanced age? No offense. However, you’re in luck, as I lost two seasoned
sailors today, and we’re in need.”

“Yes.”

She tossed papers about and
finally found her quill, uncovered the ink well, and dipped it. “Make your mark
please,” she said as she handed it to him. “The code is the first two pages of
the log. Can you read?” The man nodded. “Good. Read it before you sign.”

The man kept his head
lowered and only nodded, as if he were down on his luck and this was his last
resort. His hat was scarred and full of holes, and it seemed as if his clothes
hadn’t been laundered—ever. She avoided staring at him, as he appeared shamed
in some way. Ivory stood and walked away from the man to the wash basin. He
ignored her advice and signed the log immediately. Then, he dusted the ink and
blew on it until it was dry. As she poured the water in the basin, she studied
her face in the mirror on the shelf by her bunk. She bent over and pooled the
fresh water in her hands and splashed and rubbed at her face repeatedly with
soap until the blood was gone.

Pin by pin, she released her
hair and it fell in waves down her back. She combed through it with her fingers
and then pulled it back into a braid, smoothing it away from her face with her
wet hands. “Almost through? I’ve had the day from hell, and I’d like to get a
bit of shut-eye,” she said as she walked back to the table and took a long
drink from her cup. “Mmm. Now that’s more like it. Are you hungry?” she asked
him, as she picked up a hunk of fresh bread, ripped off a piece, and held it
out to him. She felt the ship moving and smiled. “Too late to change your mind
now, unless you’d like to swim for it.”

“No. I mean, no, thank you.
Not hungry,” he mumbled.

“You don’t say much, do
you?”

He shook his head and closed
the log.

“Well, let me see here…”
Ivory chomped on her bread and took another swig from her cup. She raised it at
the man in offering as she sat down, but again, he shook his head and kept his
eyes low.

“Are you running from
something, or someone?
 
Not that it
matters,” she commented with a half-smile. “Hand me that log, will you?”

The man slid the book back
across the desk to her, and she sat up in her chair and flipped it open to the
code. “Read this over well, I trust? We take this very seriously, Mister…” she
said as she flipped the book forward for his name, but stopped, distracted at
the names of the two deceased crewmen. She dipped the quill and made the
notations of their demise, along with the date, location, and approximate time
of death. She took care to note their bravery in battle, and also what their
next of kin, if any, would be paid in compensation for their lives.

Ivory flinched as she caught
a glimpse of the man shifting in his chair, his head lowered and his hair
obscuring much of his face. Her instincts kicked in again for a moment, and
then she relaxed again and turned to his log entry. “Mister…” she said, and
then froze. “Is this some sick attempt at humor, sir?”

The man didn’t speak. He at
last lifted his chin from his chest and raised his eyes to her. When she met
them, her own eyes were filled with rage. Before she could speak again, he
raised his right hand, slapped it down on the desk, and then put both hands up.
There, sitting where his hand hit the desk a second before, was her razor. She
leapt to her stocking feet.
 
He, too,
stood so fast that the chair flew from under him and tipped over backwards,
crashing against the floor. “What is it with you and I and chairs, love?”

“But…but you’re…you’re
supposed to be dead!” Ivory shouted as she flew around the desk and struck him
hard across the face with her open hand.

“Dammit, Ivory! Is that any
way at all to welcome someone back from the grave?”

She ripped the hat from his
head and threw it to the floor. “Dear God, it
is
you!”

“Well, hardly a god, but it
is, in fact, me. Alive and well, depending on how you perceive “well” to be.
You…don’t seem very happy to see me,” he said with a grimace as he rubbed at
his flushed red cheek.

“What did you expect? Did
you think I’d throw myself on you?”

“Perhaps not but a polite
hello and a bit of gratitude for saving your life would have been refreshing.”
Maddox sat the chair upright and took a seat. “Come and sit down, and we’ll
calmly discuss all of this,” Maddox smiled with his unmistakable charm and
patted his lap to invite her.

“You’re ridiculous! I should
make you take that swim.” Ivory backed away from him with her arms folded. Her
face was fierce and mistrusting, but her heart pounded so loudly she feared he
would hear it if she stood too closely. Without turning her back on him, she
strolled to her seat and waited for his explanation. A dead silence reigned in
the room for several moments until, finally, Maddox spoke. “I’ve come here to
explain…”

“Explain what?” Ivory
interrupted.

“Well, if you’ll be so kind
as to allow me to speak, then I will tell you...”

“Did you come for the
diamonds?”

“Do you still have them?” he
asked as he relaxed and shifted in his seat.

“No. I sold them.” Ivory
moved back to her chair and lowered herself to the seat slowly.