Merchant's Paradise, Pirates Prize

Barbados in 1682, a merchant's paradise and a pirate’s prize. One such merchant, the former Edmund Handforth, had built up such a fortune and reputation, he had since become a Lord and he was most grateful for this fact. He would have been more grateful had he had a son. Instead he had one daughter. Marina. Where would his fortune, his empire and his title go? This is what brings us to the beginning of our story. In a drawing room of a grand house in the English colony of Barbados.

---

“Lord Handforth,” sneered the groom-to-be, Clarence Prescott, a Captain in the British Royal Navy. A man with the charisma and ambition of Prescott was a perfect choice of son-in-law for a man with no sons. “I am most elated by your permission to marry your daughter.”

Handforth hoarsely chuckled. “You’ll find Marina most agreeable, she is docile and obedient; as a wife should be.”

Prescott approved of Handforth’s opinion of a wife, and he went on boasting of recent raids, captures, imprisonments and executions; clearly impressing Handforth with his blood lust.

“Recently we boarded the ship of a pirate most famous and feared, the Captain Spruce, have you heard of him?” Prescott boasted, to his question Handforth shook his head. “They call his ship ‘The Vendetta.’ I had no issue taking his ship for my own and imprisoning all his crew. In fact, here you go, my lady. I took this from Spruce and I give it to you now as a token of my affection.”

Marina, sitting quietly until this moment, thanked Prescott as she took a small, black, leather-bound journal. She opened it and slowly flicked through the thick paper; darkened by age, dirt and salt. Inside were the most beautiful drawings she had ever seen.

“Of course, the whole book is drawings,” Prescott remarked smugly. “Heaven forbid I would give you something to read and risk you getting a headache.”

“I thank you most ardently, Captain Prescott,” Marina smiled, but her manners hid a storm, and after Prescott’s continued peacocking at dinner, she crept into the pantry and took a decanter of white wine to her bedroom.

---

Marina sat in front of her vanity, drinking glass after glass of wine. In the orange flickering candlelight her skin was pale and her red hair caught the light in auburn colours, she looked at her body. Thick and curvaceous, perfect for bearing children… which she knew she would be expected to do. But was it what she wanted? Worse yet, did she want the wicked children which would come from her union with Prescott?

The wine was supposed to silence the noise, but in her head she heard in a loop Prescott’s egotistic cackle, his belittling of her, and his constant boasting.

Out of frustration, she slammed her fists into the table.

The decanter fell, spilling the remaining wine and shattering all over the floor. Suddenly, Marina sat up. Sobered now by her mistake. From down the corridor she heard a door open and she knew that a servant would haste to her room to check what the noise was.

She looked down and saw wine all over the table, and worse, all over the journal Prescott had given her.

If they see I’ve destroyed it, they’ll think I did it out of spite! Marina panicked. In a frenzy, she grabbed the book and threw herself into bed, gathering the blankets over her. When the servant came in Marina called out, “I’m fine, come back in the morning I caught the table with my foot!”

The servant promptly left and a moment later a door closed.

Marina lifted the covers and peaked into the darkness. Kicking away the blankets, she hastily opened the journal to see what damage the wine had done.

To her surprise, there was no damage. In fact, when Marina looked at the pages she saw sketches she couldn’t recall seeing before. She flicked through the pages and found a map with coordinates and directions... but to what?

The Treasure of Captain Long John Ginger - it read.

---

That morning, Prescott returned for continued courting.

“Captain Prescott,” she said softly and innocently. “Could you take me to see some pirates, maybe Spruce?”

Prescott seemed amused by her and agreed, taking her arm and leading her across town.

The cells the pirates were kept in were the temporary cells used to keep criminals in the town ready for their public execution the following day, there were a limited number of cells and some of the crew shared a cell, except for one tall man in a central cell, whose arms were chained upwards and his legs were shackled to the floor.

“This is the fearsome pirate Spruce, my dear fiance, what do you think?” Prescott sneered, opening the cell gate and entering.

Marina sheepishly followed him as Spruce briefly glanced up, his relaxed eyes meeting Marina’s.

“She must not be marrying you for love…” Spruce spoke, his voice low and gravelly. His eyes scanned over Prescott. “... or looks.”

Within a second of Spruce’s comment, Prescott threw his fist into the side of Spruce’s jaw. The guard on duty came towards the gate at the sound of commotion and Marina saw her opportunity.

She swooned falling backwards into the arms of the guard.

He helped her up and Marina put her hand on his hip to steady herself, freeing the cell keys from his waistband and hiding them in her sleeve.

---

That night, Marina walked back towards the cells with a plan in mind.

Once she entered the cells, the same young guard from earlier was still on watch.

“Ma’am, I don’t think you should be down here so late at night unaccompanied.”

“I know,” Marina whispered. “I just felt so horribly embarrassed earlier, and I felt so very grateful that you were there to catch me. I thought I would bring you this to show my gratitude.”

From under her cloak, Marina showed the guard a bottle of wine.

“Perhaps we could share a glass now, it must be near the end of your shift?” Marina implored, flirtatiously.

The guard agreed, filling his tankard with wine and giving a spare to Marina. He guzzled the wine down, as they chatted and he began to slur, when all of a sudden his head dropped into the table. Marina jabbed her finger into his arm a few times, she had put boiled valerian root in the wine and wasn’t sure how long it would work. Satisfied the guard would not wake, she ran to the cell of Captain Spruce.

“Is this your journal?” She asked, frantically.

He looked up, lazily. “Yes.”

“And your map?”

Spruce’s head suddenly jerked up and he met her eyes, “my what?”

“I spilled wine on the book and it revealed a secret map,” Marina explained hastily. “Some acids are able to reveal invisible ink, and wine is acidic.”

“Clever,” he laughed. “Take it, find the treasure.”

“I-I-I can’t, I’m just a woman,” Marina sighed. “But... I will set you free, I have the keys. I want you to take me with you. Use me to escape, my father is rich. You can have the money from this treasure and a ransom. I just want one adventure.”

“Fine,” Spruce snapped.

Marina set about releasing Spruce’s crew and then the Captain himself.

“Now what?” she asked, shakily.

“This.” Marina was looking up at Spruce as a hard blow knocked the back of her head and she fell to the ground. As they exited the cells they left a ransom note by the guard.

---

Marina awoke to the rocking of the ship, the sound of the waves crashing into the sides and the wood creaking.

“Welcome to the Vendetta,” piped a voice from a large chair beside the fire. “Sorry for hitting you, we just wanted our escape to be realistic.”

They approached the bed. “I’m Captain Spruce.”

Marina cleared her eyes and looked at Spruce who now sat on the edge of her bed. Except, without the hat, he wasn’t what she expected. He wasn’t a he at all.

“Captain Arabella Spruce,” the women extended a hand for Marina to shake. “Sometimes, it's safer to pretend to be a man. Come up when you are ready.”

Marina nodded, speechless.

---

Arabella was standing at the helm when Marina joined her. Arabella couldn’t help but notice Marina’s beauty, her hair which matched the rising sun and her softness. And Marina couldn’t help but feel attracted to Arabella’s striking features; long raven hair and angular androgenous features.

“Who was Captain Long John Ginger?” Marina inquired.

“My father,” Arabella answered, smiling. “He was killed and I assumed his treasure was lost. He was killed by Prescott, actually.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know,” Marina apologised, sincerely. “I don’t know, or like, much about the man I am to marry. I am likely to spend the rest of my life subservient to him.”

Arabella shook her head. “Look at my crew. I am their captain, but not their superior. We are all equal here.”

Marina looked around the deck at the characters singing and working, all different shapes, sizes, colours. Some with deep black skin, some gradually paler and some the unmistakable red of sunburn. Some were older probably than the ship itself, while others still looked at the sea with fresh, youthful glee. All different.

“You could stay,” Arabella said with a softness Marina didn’t expect. “I know the value of this treasure. There are at least 20,000 doubloons and then more in jewels and solid gold. We do not need the money from your ransom.”

Their eyes met and Marina reached her hand out to Arabella’s. She opened her mouth to speak when -

“Land, Captain!” One of the crew shouted.

---

The crew wasted no time in digging at the coordinates and it was not long until they started seeing results. Chest after chest filled with dubloons, gold and jewels were dug up until there was nothing left.

“Everyone aboard,” Arabella ordered. “If we double back we will run into Captain Prescott.”

---

Half way back to Barbados, as expected, a Navy ship came close to the Vendetta and both lifted their sails to meet. A plank was put between the boats and Prescott stepped out.

“Where is my bride?” he shouted.

Arabella, in disguise again now, showed Marina by her side. “Send your man across with the payment and then she will cross.”

Prescott nodded and sent a man with a chest to cross the plank to the Vendetta.

“You don’t have to go,” Arabella whispered, her hand holding Marina’s lower back.

Marina’s eyes welled slightly, “thank you.”

With that, Marina walked to the plank and crossed. Prescott greeted her and kissed her cheek, sending shivers down her back.

Marina turned back to look at the Vendetta where Arabella stood. When she looked back at Prescott she realised her mistake. She was more of a prisoner aboard this ship than she was on the Vendetta.

Without a pause for thought, she threw herself backwards into the ocean.

Marina kicked until she broke through the water and she gasped for air, with all her strength she grabbed the rope ladder on the side of the Vendetta, screaming to the crew to drop the sails.

Marina climbed, weighed down by all the fabric until she saw a hand reach down and pull her up.

Arabella.

“Are you insane!?” She shouted.

“Yes,” Marina gasped, pulling Arabella towards her. Their lips touched as the ship began to move. Marina pulled off Arabella’s hat as they kissed, the taste of salt water in their mouths from the ocean. Arabella’s raven hair fell to her waist as they broke from the kiss and they looked quickly back at Prescott, standing in shock and horror.

They laughed, Marina finally feeling a sense of freedom, and they looked onto the horizon for their next adventure.