A Hidden Queen

Chapter 48

Pierre growls hacking away at the fraying sailing lines. He pulls another rope taunt slicing through the thick braid. Jack flinches as it breaks apart spitting shrapnel and wrapping around another line. He sighs heavy watching the rope hang limp in the breeze. Jack was not surprised by Joe's choice to be with her crew. She has always been a strong-willed woman, doing what she believed was right, even if no one else agreed. No, what concerns him is James' reaction to that will. James was a bully, he often used intimidation and threats to get what he wanted. But what he did to Josephine was beyond that specific personality flaw. Jack twists his face in disdain, anger tightening his chest. He yanks on the rope untangling it from its perch. Jack leans against the netting, staring out over the sparkling water. James was an inconsiderate, hateful, snobbish individual but never would he have considered that James would physically beat Josephine to make her submissive. The whole affair did not settle well with him.

"Lieutenant Pierre!" James' strange accent echoes.

Jack exhales irritability rolling his eyes heavenwards. Be still Jack. He murmurs to himself. He inflates his lungs stomping his rising aggression. He wraps his arm around one of the thick ropes of the netting, glancing down at James. He stood upon the weather deck, hands on his hips, pondering up at Jack.

"Yeah?" Jack calls down trying to keep the bit out of his words.

"Come down. I need you to do something." James commands.

Jack sighs deeply, swinging himself to one of the anchor lines. He wraps his legs around the large, braided rope, shimming his way down. James steps back as Jack firmly plants his feet upon the planking. He straightens his back, placing a hand on his hip.

"What do you need me for James?" Jack snips.

James stares down his nose, grinning wickedly. He walks off, waving for Jack to follow. Jack pinches his lips into a thin line watching James wonder up the quarterdeck. A deep exhale escapes his chest sagging his shoulders. Jack massages his temple, stilling himself to follow after the commodore. The pale blue eyes scan the ascending deck landing on James in the far corner. He stands near the taffrail, his hands clasped behind his back. Jack meanders over resting his backside on the gunwale. He shifts, comfortably crossing his arms over his trimmed chest. He fixates on James, quirking an eyebrow.

"Now that we have found a secluded area that was possibly not needed." He sighs. "What is it that you need of me?"

"I need you to go retrieve that boy for me." James causally commands.

"The boy? What do you need him for? He can be no more than fifteen. He's a pup just learning the trade. He's of no use to anyone until he learns." Jack points out, furrowing down his brow.

"That may be, but I still need you to escort him down to the lowest gunroom."

Jack tenses at the implications of the command. The lowest gunroom, when in connection with an individual, was only used for the purpose of extracting information from the enemy. It was in the belly of the ship, making it virtually sound proof with the pounding of the waves against the hull. Jack lowers his hands to rest on the railing, digging his fingers into the wood. He glances out over the deck before setting a hard gaze on James. He merely continues to pleasantly ponder over the rushing water.

"Taking him down to that room only means one things James."

"As I am well aware, Mr. Pierre. But Private Jackson and I have much to, let's say, discuss with the young man."

"I feel that word is used much too loosely." Jack scoffs in disdain. "The whole point of the lower gunroom is for beatings and torturing of the enemy. And then you want to take Private Jackson down there as well?"