Autumn - 1785

For six years, Stormy, Laddie, and the rest of the crew had successfully hidden Elizabeth from the sights of Captain Blade. They kept her in boys’ clothes. Pants, tunic, boots, and her long hair pulled beneath a heavy stocking cap. They explained her presence aboard the ship, by telling Blade they had picked up the boy at one of the many ports they had docked, over the years. The captain never questioned the decision to bring new crew onboard to replace those killed or maimed during battle. Besides, the more hands there were to fight meant the quicker the success during an attack. Once she began maturing, however, it became more difficult keeping her sexual gender secret.

With a little ingenuity, Elizabeth was able to hide her maturing breasts under a tight gauze wrapping, and with a little larger size of clothing, she was able to hide her developing curves equally as well. But the fact that she had reached the age of menarche was another subject altogether.

Hiding the blood wasn’t very difficult. There were always soiled rags among the crew that needed cleaning, but on a regular monthly basis proved a bit more suspicious.

It was on one of these occasions that Blade happened across her hanging up the rags. Seeing the stained cloth, knowing the condition blood made of fabric, he naturally became curious and began interrogating her. Elizabeth stammered and stuttered for several seconds until Laddie overheard the questions being thrown at her. He stepped forward and explained to their captain that the boy had been injured practicing his sword fighting with Stormy. The captain wasn’t entirely convinced, especially since it had taken her such a long time to answer, but again Laddie was able to explain that away easily.

“The boy has a condition,” he said bluntly. “He stutters. He has since being captured by Devil Seas.”

At the mention of his enemy’s name, Blade’s interest peaked.

“How were you able to escape alive?” the Spaniard asked in a heavy accent, inspecting the boy’s young face. Elizabeth began to stutter again, nearly choking on her own saliva.

“He jumped ship during the storm of 1780,” Stormy interrupted when he stepped up behind the three of them. “He hid in an old whiskey barrel and was found by a British vessel, inebriated by the fumes. They took him ashore and left him. That’s where we found him, working in the livery.”

“I see,” the captain said, his tone still thick with suspicion. “Fate was favorable to you boy. Nobody has ever escaped Devil Seas before.”

“He…he…thought I was…d…dead,” Elizabeth said softly, looking down to her feet.

It wasn’t a lie. The pirate she had in mind though was not the one in mention. Blade frowned at the shyness of the lad then exploded into a loud round of laughter, slapping her on the back hard enough to cause her cap to fall across her eyes.

“This is one to keep an eye on, eh Stormy?” Blade chuckled, not noticing the near exposure of her long hair as she adjusted her cap back across her head. “We would not want the same thing to happen again. I don’t think he would manage a second attempt at sea, Devil, or not.”

Stormy watched the captain turn and walk to his cabin, before rounding on Elizabeth and Laddie.

“That was the most careless act you could have done,” he growled softly. “What the bloody hell were you doing attracting his attention?”

“It wasn’t her fault,” Laddie insisted, placing a warm arm around her shaking shoulders.

“No, it’s yours,” Stormy snapped. “You were supposed to be keeping an eye on her. Where the hell were you?”

“I was right here. The old bastard noticed the rags she was hanging out. What was I supposed to do, call him out for having good eyesight?”

Stormy looked over Elizabeth’s shoulder, noticing the articles in question and frowned.

“This is getting more complicated than I anticipated,” he said softly. “We can’t keep hiding your…time.”

“I didn’t ask for it, you know?”

Elizabeth snapped, as relief finally replaced the cold sensation of fear that had filled her veins a moment ago.

“We’ll keep her hidden below deck,” Ching said as the crew gathered closer together.

Elizabeth looked up at Stormy in horror.

“No, you can’t,” she insisted. “I’ll go insane being locked away again.”

“Hiding her isn’t the answer,” Stormy insisted, patiently. “He’s going to be looking for her. She has piqued his interest. He knows there’s something special about her. He just can’t figure it out…yet.”

“What do we do then?” Swen asked.

“We make certain he sees her…often, until he grows tired of her face.” Stormy turned his grey eyes to her. “Until further notice, you are to think of yourself as the captain’s cabin boy.”

“What?” Elizabeth nearly choked.

“She can’t,” Laddie insisted.

“He’ll find out,” interrupted Ching.

“He’ll kill her, Stormy…or worse,” Bald Richard continued.

All eyes turned to their superior, watching as he continued to stare at their young ward.

“I won’t let that happen,” he promised. “Your mother’s sacrifice will not be in vain. Staying close to him is the only way to convince him you are what we claim. Don’t worry, I won’t be far away.”

That night, Elizabeth reluctantly served Blade his supper in his cabin. She nearly dropped the tray of stew and bread when she saw the painting of the pirate’s nude image, her mother had created. She had forgotten all about it. She had, in fact, not been in this room for over six years. Looking at the magnificent work now, made her feel the loss of her mother more and the hatred of this man began to fill her veins again.

“It is quite impressive isn’t it?” Blade asked, seeing where his new cabin boy’s attention had been drawn.

“Y…y’ sir,” Elizabeth answered.

“I am rather pleased with it,” Blade said, walking toward the head of his bed and touching the sculptured post with his fingers.

“Who…who did it?” Elizabeth asked softly.

She set the tray of food on the table in the center of the room. Blade grew silent as a frown creased his brow.

“I have had it so long, I can’t recall who the artist was.”

Elizabeth’s hands shook in anger as she poured whiskey into his cup, spilling the dark liquid on the table. Blade turned with a growl.

“Get out, you clumsy fool,” he insisted. “I’ll have Stormy’s neck for sending you in here.”

Elizabeth turned and hurried out the door, shutting it loudly behind her. Stormy frowned from where he stood in the narrow passage and Laddie watched as she raced past him as he stood nearby to aid her escape if necessary.

“What happened?” Laddie asked, following her down to the crews’ quarters and watching as she threw herself on to her hammock, pulling her pillow over her head.

“He doesn’t remember her,” she said with deep tones of hatred. “He abused her, tortured her, and killed her, and he doesn’t even remember who she was.”

“What happened?” he asked again, causing her to sit upon the swinging mesh hammock.

“He still has her paintings hanging in his cabin,” she snapped. “He looks at them every day and claims he doesn’t remember who did them. He killed her, and he doesn’t even remember her bloody name.”

“You have known what sort of man he was for years now. You can’t let your anger confuse you. You have to stay focused on your goal.”

“I don’t even remember what that is anymore,” she said, laying back down and closing her eyes. “I can’t remember anything, except this bloody ship and that bastard who sails her. I can’t even remember what she looked like.”

“It would have been best if you had forgotten the past,” Stormy snapped bitterly as he stepped forward, filling the doorway with his massive frame. “He’s furious. All we can do now is hope he’ll get so drunk he’ll forget how angry he is. Tomorrow, you’ll deliver his breakfast and do whatever else he demands, and you’ll remember your place. You are his cabin boy, and don’t you forget that.”

Elizabeth continued to deliver the captain’s meals and waited on his every need when the occasion arose, just as Stormy ordered. The entire crew was aware of how nervous and angry she became whenever she was around Blade, which aided to the charade they played. Stormy kept her visible, teaching her the ropes of sailing and kicking her butt physically whenever she messed up. The rest of the crew took her in hand, teaching her the finer points of sword fighting, and knife throwing. They took turns teaching her to fight with her fists since this was also necessary for battle and tried teaching her how to fire a pistol, though she steered away from this side of her lessons. There was something about guns she didn’t like. She had always felt they were unfair in a fight. A person had the right to defend themselves and firearms didn’t allow them that dignity.

For Elizabeth, the entire charade was becoming painful, from the hard labor and constant physical knocks to the tight wraps about her breasts and the constant contact with the man who had caused her mother’s death. The pretense worked well enough though and after a few months Blade no longer noticed her presence and eventually forgot about her completely. This allowed Stormy the chance to ease her out of the role of cabin boy and back under the close guard of the crew, where her lessons continued with vigor.

With time, came knowledge, and Elizabeth soon began to understand more about the events that had taken place when she was a child, even to the point of understanding her mother’s pregnancy. Understanding why her mother jumped overboard with the infant, however, was completely beyond her comprehension. She knew her mother as a kind and loving woman. She was sympathetic and understanding, never raising her voice, never losing her temper. She had braved attacks from Indians in the Americas, buried four sons and a husband, and sacrificed herself to a pirate madman in order to protect her small daughter. How could a person like that, deliberately kill an innocent child?

The years at sea began to turn the young innocent girl into a skilled pirate. Her swordplay was improving dramatically. She could hit her mark with a knife eight out of ten times, and she was even managing to cause a few black eyes and busted lips when fighting the other men. Her skills were definitely sharpening, but her mood wasn’t. Each new conquest, made her meaner and angrier, even though Stormy tried to keep her out of the thick of battle.

There were times, however, when staying hidden wasn’t an option and she had to fight. The screams of innocent victims, the smell of gunpowder, and the never-ending blood hardened her heart, while the cruel laughter from Blade’s lusty throat turned her from an innocent child to a hate-filled pirate. She knew the pain their victims suffered. She dreamt of it nightly and cringed whenever Blade brought a female captive aboard. Yet his prisoners were always released once the ransom was made. This knowledge continued to build on Elizabeth’s bitterness and deepened the hatred she felt for her grandfather. Each new battle brought a renewed promise that one day, both men would suffer her wrath.

Blade kept his own skills sharpened, choosing a different member of his crew to fight against him. The results were always bloody, as his competitor was left with deep scars Stormy or Laddie would have to sew up. During these sessions, however, Elizabeth managed to study the captain’s manner and stance from a secure hiding place among the crew. Nobody wanted Blade to take her on in combat, afraid of her safety as well as her identity. That of course, would not last forever.

One hot day during her fifteenth year, Blade saw her matching wits against Swen, in her endless lessons of sword fighting. He became impressed with the young boy’s skill and ordered he be brought to him, for his own challenge. Elizabeth listened with growing anxiety, as Stormy tried to convince Blade, the boy wasn’t ready to match wits with such a fine swordsman as their captain. Blade, on the other hand, refused to listen. He had watched Elizabeth for a number of days, inspecting her actions with growing interest. There would be no rescue for the girl this time. Elizabeth’s attitude was growing extremely arrogant with her many wins against the crew. She was convinced today was the day she would seek her revenge against the beast who had destroyed her life.

The noise and work of the crew ceased when their young apprentice approached the captain. Blade removed his shirt, turning to the boy and frowning. It was a blistering hot day, yet he continued to wear his shirt tucked into his breeches. The rest of the crew was bare-chested, some even in cutoff pants, yet here was a boy, Blade estimated to be no more than twelve or thirteen, completely covered.

“Remove your shirt, boy,” ordered Blade, standing still until he was obeyed.

The crew froze. There was no possible way she could take her shirt off. Her once girl’s body had developed over the years to a beautiful, well-endowed young woman’s figure that many of the newer crew had been warned away from, by the tip of Stormy’s sword. There would be hell to pay if the captain learned they had been hiding a woman amongst them but hadn’t offered her to him for his private use.

“I’d rather not,” Elizabeth answered, her tone soft and arrogant.

“I said remove your shirt, or would you rather I do it for you?”

Stormy stepped to the captain’s side and whispered against his ear.

“The boy was beaten badly as a child, captain,” he lied. “A result of Devil Seas’ capture. His scars are worse than any I’ve ever seen. He has little flesh across his back, that isn’t torn apart.”

Blade looked at the man, then back to the boy. He remembered seeing a man once with a similar condition, and it was nauseating enough to make him nearly lose his appetite for the bar wench he had been nibbling on.

“Very well, keep your shirt,” he conceded, raising his sword in the air. “I’ll take it easy on you, boy,” he sneered. “I know you haven’t much strength yet.”

“I can hold my own,” Elizabeth growled back, trying to keep her tone deeper than it truly was.

“Then let’s see how good you really are.”

The two touched sword tips, then sparred off, swinging at each other’s weapon. Blade was instantly impressed. The boy truly was skilled, but he still outmatched the child with years of experience. The sound of steel hitting steel, and grunts from their battle, sounded around the quiet ship like thunder as the crew stood by watching, waiting to step in and protect her.

Elizabeth managed to dodge several hits of the captain’s blade, yet she was growing tired. Her arm was beginning to shake, and her neck felt as though she had been carrying a bundle of sails across them for hours. She hadn’t sparred against the others for any real length of time, just a few short sessions before being sent about another task or ordered back below decks.

Bitterly, she realized the crew - her friends - had been taking it easy on her all these years, and she became angry again. Her sword rose and fell against the many blocks of Blade’s arm, her anger forcing her to continue at an unnatural pace, her pain mounting with each lift of her sword.

Stormy frowned at the expression on the girl’s tanned face. He knew she wanted revenge, but he also knew this was not the time. He could see the anger and the pain glowing in her eyes. Her skills weren’t up to the perfection he had hoped she would possess when she did confront Blade. She needed more time, more practice, and much more skill behind her sword.

He looked to the captain and forced the disgusted snarl from his lips. True, Elizabeth was holding her own and had on several occasions surprised Blade with an unexpected move, yet Stormy knew the man had been taking it easy on her. There would be no stopping them until Elizabeth suffered her first true taste of steel, which came immediately on the heels of that thought.

The captain was tiring with this game, and twisted his wrist in a surprising move, striking the girl’s forearm with the side of his blade. Elizabeth cried out and fell to the deck. Her arm throbbed with pain, her shirtsleeve soaked in sweat and blood. Blade stood above her laughing. It was a sound that made Elizabeth feel nauseated and Laddie hurried to her side, seeing the look of hatred filter through her face again.

“Don’t,” he warned her in a soft whisper, holding her in place on the deck. “He’ll kill you. It’s not time. You’re not ready.”

Elizabeth glared at the man, shrugging at his grip. She felt dizzy and light-headed with the loss of blood. Her arm throbbed in pain and her legs felt like seaweed when she tried to stand on them, pulling her back down to her knees.

“Good match,” Blade said, taking a step closer to his opponent. “We’ll do it again sometime. I suggest you keep practicing, you need the work.”

Stormy slid his foot across the sword’s shaft that lay inches from her leg, forcing her to remain knelt on the deck unarmed.

“No,” Laddie ordered, seeing the hatred fill her eyes again.

Her jaw set in a tight grinding of her teeth as she reached for the hilt of the sword. His tone was soft yet authoritative as he whispered low enough only she could hear.

“Don’t try it.”

He knew, as did the rest of the crew, that she wanted their captain dead. She had waited a long time for the chance to face him, and her anger and hatred for him had made her jump ahead of herself. She was not yet ready to face the deadly steel of a true pirate’s blade.

“Take him below,” Stormy ordered, trying to filter his voice through the sea of rage swirling inside her mind.

Elizabeth looked up, frowning. She would never admit it to them, but she knew they were right. The throbbing pain in her arm reminded her that she wasn’t strong enough yet to defeat him. But Blade’s time was coming. She knew it and so did the rest of the crew. One day soon, he would pay for his barbarous acts.

Laddie led Elizabeth to her hammock, stripping the bloody shirt from her sweaty torso. He kept his eyes distracted from the tightly wrapped gauze around the swell of breasts, cursing himself for his suddenly hardened libido. This girl was like a daughter to him and he wasn’t about to do anything to cause any more grief in her young life. The months at sea without the comfort of a woman’s body was wearing on him, and she was very beautiful, with her tanned face and neck, though pale at the moment, and her firm young body within inches of his fingers. It was enough to make a sane man lose control.

“You did well,” he told her after clearing his throat.

He had taken a clean rag and was dipping it in the barrel of water the crew kept nearby, hoping the distraction would be enough to take his mind off her near nakedness.

“Like hell I did,” she barked weakly, receiving a surprised look from her makeshift doctor. “You’ve all been too easy on me. From now on, I expect more work and tougher practices. I’ll never have my revenge if you keep coddling me.”

“You aren’t strong enough,” Laddie explained, wiping the blood from her arm. “You’re too young.”

“Bullshit,” she snapped, grimacing at the pain his touch caused. “I’m fifteen. Tell me what was expected of you at my age?”

Laddie frowned. She was right, by the time he was her age, he had been part of more than a dozen battles and had more scars then he could count. He had competed regularly with the captain and could trim the sails in record time.

“We’ll increase your duties, but only a little. You have to remember who and what you are. You can’t be expected to do the same things a boy can.”

“Stop it,” she ordered, struggling against the man’s doctoring techniques. “Either I do what everyone else does, or I do nothing. I will never be able to face that bastard unless I’m let loose to learn.”

“You’re right,” Stormy said, stepping into the room. “Starting tomorrow, your workload will begin as any other member of this crew. You’re weak and you fought like a girl.”

“The bloody hell she did,” Laddie snapped back, defending her honor.

“I did,” Elizabeth insisted. “And you know it. If I’m going to succeed in making Blade pay for what he’s done, I have to be taught to be something I’m not. I have to be taught to be a boy.”

“You’re right,” Laddie conceded weakly. “But I still think of you as our little girl.”

“I’m not a girl, remember? I’m one of the crew, and I have to hold my own.”

“We’ll start with this,” Stormy said, stepping to her side and reaching for the needle and thread to stitch her bloody arm. “The sooner you become a man, the sooner you’ll convince all of us you’re just a pirate with tits. You’ll have a hell of a scar to show for your efforts today.”

“It’s the last one that bastard will ever give me,” she insisted anger and irritation etching across her delicate features.

Elizabeth laid her head back against the pillow, fighting the urge to faint. The loss of blood, the deflated anger, and now the pain of the needle pulling through the layers of flesh all made her feel weak and nauseated.

Her hatred for the captain grew stronger with each day, and today she had convinced herself she was capable of taking care of him, but he proved her wrong. As the needle pierced her tender skin over and over, so did the realization that she had a lot more learning to do before she was able to keep her promise to herself and to her mother. She had been too arrogant with her recently acquired skills, which only proved what a deadly mistake overconfidence could be. A mistake she wouldn’t make again.

She bit back the cries of pain, caused by the needle, pulling her flesh back together. The salty taste of blood filled her mouth as her teeth clamped down on her lip with each tug of the thread. She refused to shed another tear so long as she lived. That man above deck was the reason for her fate, and his fate would one day come to an end when the steel of her blade met the heart of the barbaric.

The day would come when she would be strong enough to make the man pay. And when that day finally did arrive, she would happily cut his heart out and feed it to the sharks.