"Hey lass, you look tired! Why don't you rest here for a while?" The snide voice of a sailor rang across the town square. "Don't be shy!"
"I'd rather rest on a bed of spikes." A cool retort from a woman sniped back.
Gabriel Mercier made his way down the paved road, his head low to avoid any unwanted attention. He picked up fragments of townsfolk conversation as he walked; women chattering about fashion and gossip, and men about brandy, cigars and other dull and conventional things. Saint Martin was full of absentminded airheads who only cared about their want for wealth and status. He scoffed and shook his head. He was just about to round the corner when the voice of the woman really caught his attention.
"Get your filthy hands off of me!" She was livid, but the slight tremor in the last two words gave away her fear.
"What are you going to do, you little whore?" The man snarled at her. Gabriel whipped around to see the man's lips curled back into an ugly yellow smile. One of his hands was wrapped tightly around the woman's wrist, and the other firmly grasping her waist. The woman struggled in his grip and the man just laughed. Gabriel felt his blood begin to boil. Suddenly, he didn't care about avoiding trouble. Before he could stop himself, he felt his legs walk him in the direction of the two strangers, and before he knew it, he was standing beside them.
"Sir, I think it's time to let her go, now." Gabriel spoke in a surprising calm voice although he felt a fiery rage in his chest. His fists clenched themselves.
The harasser turned his head to face Gabriel, a sneer make his face look even uglier than it was. "And why is that, boy?"
His was mocking him.
"I said, I think it's time to let her go." Gabriel repeated himself, lifting his chin.
"What are you going to do?" The man looked at him like he was rubbish. "Hit me?"
He didn't take him seriously.
"If I have to." Gabriel's gaze shifted to the woman, still in the man's grip, then back to her harasser. He no longer cared about avoiding unwanted attention. His jaw was clenched, hard. A part of him hoped he could punch the man. He deserved it.
"Haha. Funny, boy," the man adjusted his grip on the woman's waist and his hand moved toward her behind. "I think I'm just going to take this wench and we'll be on our merry-"
Gabriel didn't hold back. He swung a right hook at him before he could finish, catching him completely off guard. The man recoiled, releasing his grip on the woman. He sloppily tried to come back with a swing but he was too slow and too uncoordinated. Gabriel easily ducked and uppercutted him in the jaw. His opponent's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he crumpled to the ground like parchment. Gabriel stood there for a few minutes, his chest heaving. Then he realized the woman was still there. Her arms were crossed and she watched at him analytically. The woman looked no older than he, and although she only wore a simple pale blue dress and apron, she was visually striking. She had dark eyes that watched his every move, fair peach skin, and loose curls of caramel-blonde, the front twisted and pinned out of her face. He caught himself staring, but he didn't look away.
"I suppose I should thank you." The woman tilted her head. She spoke proper, her words careful and measured.
"Don't bother. Anyone would have..." Gabriel trailed off. Anyone would have what? Done the same? Not anyone would have, and they both knew it.
"Well, thank you anyway," her lips turned up into a small smile and she held out a hand. "What may I call you?"
"Gabriel." He gently shook her hand and couldn't help but smile in return. "And you?"
"Emilia."
"Are you from here, Emilia?"
"Well, of course. Are you not?" Her eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"I'm just passing through." Gabriel sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Actually, I think I might be lost."
"Where are you trying to go?" Emilia smiled sympathetically.
"I'm actually trying to find the gunsmith's workshop. Do you have any idea where that might be?"
"Oh! That's just around the block. Let me take you." Without waiting for an answer, she lightly pulled on his elbow, leading him across the street.
✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰
Thirty minutes later, the two journeyed back to the docks, animatedly conversing. Their laughter rang across the square. The gunsmith had been cleaning a pistol when they had burst in. Startled, the poor bloke had accidentally fired the thing and the bullet flew through the window, hitting same man that had been harassing Emilia in the behind.
"I can't believe that just happened!" Emilia wiped her eyes, tearing up from laughter.
"Me neither! That serves him about right." Gabriel chuckled.
"You know, I've never been on a ship before." Emilia's laughter began to dry up, and she pointed at the ships lined up on the docks as they approached. "Because apparently it's bad luck to bring women aboard."
"Where on earth did you hear that? That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." He shifted the weight of his sack of gunpowder to his other arm. Bollocks! His sister was one of the best sailors he had ever come across, not to mention Captain Blackburn.
"That's what I said!" Emilia scoffed.
"On my ship, our captain is a woman. And the best damn captain in the Caribbean." Gabriel shook his head in disbelief at such a myth. "In fact, my ship is right over..."
As Gabriel pointed with his hand, he noticed a ruckus going on right where The Tempest should have been lying low and waiting. A line of redcoats with their muskets drawn and pointed up at the ship caught his attention. The soldiers were yelling, and out of nowhere, they opened fire. Smoke filled the air, and Gabriel felt his blood run cold. What the hell?
"What's going on?" Emilia started toward the dock, her eyes wide in alarm. "Is that your ship?"
"It's- well-" He stammered.
He was cut off when one of the commanding officers shouted, "Stop those pirates!"
Gunfire went off from the ship. Gabriel could see his crew mates aiming their muskets over the edge of the deck, firing back. Townsfolk ran in every direction except in the direction of the ship. It was an ugly, chaotic mess. Then, he saw the ropes tying the ship to the dock loosen. Now was his cue to leave.
"I have to go!" Gabriel called over his shoulder at Emilia as he broke into a sprint.
"What? Where the bloody hell are you going?" Emilia yelled back, shock written on her face.
"I'm sorry! I have to go!" His voice was lost to the sound of gunfire. Suddenly, several loud booms went off and splintering wooden planks went flying. His ship was firing their canons! Gabriel shoved past people and soldiers alike, leaped over fallen bodies, and continued to run until he was almost to the edge of the dock. A sudden movement overhead made him look up; a figure being Ada Blackburn, the ship's captain. She expertly swung from from a rope and landed on the ship's deck.
"Gabriel!" A clear voice shouted above the noise. "Hurry or you won't make it!"
Gabriel's eyes followed the voice. It was Camille, his younger sister. She held a musket in one hand and frantically beckoned him with the other. Gabriel realized it was now or never. As he reached the edge of the dock, he threw the sack of gunpowder as hard as he could to Camille. A sharp, excruciating pain hit his shoulder blade as he dived into the ocean and he screamed. Bubbles rose around him. He felt a rush if adrenaline course through him, and he desperately swam for the ship, the sound of gunfire fading behind him.
End of the first "chapter" thing. Honestly, idk how that was. LOL. Enjoy??? Because they're fragments, they'll be time jumping a lot. :)
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The Heart of the Sea: Parts of a Story I'll Never Find the Motivation to Write
AdventureThis takes place between 1720 and 1750 in the Caribbean. A crew of pirates sail under the command of a feared and well-respected woman; Captain Blackburn. They seek the Heart of the Sea, a legendary diamond, purchased by a rich Spaniard from India f...