H.M.S Valor: Treachery And Triumph: A war time adventure on the high seas by Cal Clement (best way to read an ebook TXT) 📗

Captain.” Lilith replied, imitating Chibs’ manner as best she could. She went below and sought the items the Captain requested. Finding both requested items quickly with help from Trina, whom Lilith felt a slight kinship with after the morning’s events, she returned to the quarterdeck. Lilith found the Captain holding his sword in the flames of the lit brazier.

“She returns!” He said, “You two,” he gestured to Chibs and another sailor standing nearby, “Tie this man to the chair and lean him back onto the rail. We will see what each of these are made of.” Lilith’s blood ran cold. Could he be referring to her also? What had she done that would cause him to say this? The Captain approached her, his unbuttoned shirt revealing a deeply scarred chest and handed her the sword which was red hot near the point.

“My name is James. What’s yours girl?” He asked making deliberate eye contact with Lilith.

“It’s Lilith Sir,” she answered, her heart still pounding from the thought he had held some ill intention a moment ago.

“Ok, Lilith. Well, we are going to get some answers out of this shit stain of a slaver. When I signal for it, you pull that blade from the brazier and you put it flat on his damned chest. When I tell you to remove it you put it straight back into the flame. Do you understand?” Captain James said holding eye contact so intense Lilith could feel a sense of broiling rage just under the surface of his demeanor.

“Yes Sir.” She answered. Captain James walked over to the man, now tied to the chair and held in a lean against the rail by Chibs and the other sailor. He stood over the panicking prisoner for a moment and removed his shirt, exposing his scarred chest and back glistening with perspiration in the tropic heat. The sailor’s protests escalated from murmurs to shouts and then seeing the Captain’s scars, he fell silent.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions sailor. We’ll get some answers out of you, or we won’t. It really makes no difference to me. I already have my scars, they’ve all healed. How many you get depends on the speed and quality of your answers. Understand?” Captain James asked.

“Y y yes,” he stammered.

“Where do you take on the slaves?” James began the interrogation staring down at the quivering man.

“We’ve picked up slaves from an anchorage off the nor’east corner of the island. Always after we make port and take on goods in Kingston,” the sailor stuttered and stumbled over his words, rushing to get them out.

“Very good, and where are they destined?” James asked pressing further. An instant look of panic crossed the man’s face.

“I don’t know where this lot was headed. We’ve unloaded them in several different…” he began answering. The sailor’s answer was not to Captain James’ liking, James motioned over to Lilith. There was no hesitation from the girl, she hefted the large cutlass and placed the glowing blade flat across the captured sailor’s chest. The man writhed against his restraints and screamed in agony; the smell of seared flesh permeated the air. Lilith looked to Captain James for his sign to remove the hot blade, but it did not come. Instead, he leaned close to the sailor he was questioning.

“I got these scars on my chest in this very manner. From a man like you, on a ship like that. I watched him throw my family overboard. He stole my mother from me, he stole my father and my siblings. Then he delivered me to market where I was sold to the man who gave me the scars on my back,” said Captain James. His voice was low, full of simmering anger. He stood, waving Lilith off back to the brazier with the cutlass. James turned, looking out over the fantail. “I’ll ask you again. Where was your destination?” He asked in a menacing voice.

“I know we were destined for the Carolinas, which port I don’t know exactly, God’s truth Sir, I’m never told exactly which port the slaves are to be delivered in until we are almost there. It was the Captain’s way,” the man rattled out. He struggled to fit words in between his panting breaths and Lilith could see he was struggling to stay coherent.

“Your anchorage in Jamaica. How many slavers does it harbor? And how far inland are the slaves held?” James asked. His voice returned to a somewhat even tone, though Lilith noted he was glancing over at the cutlass as he spoke.

“At least five ships. The most I ever counted was four anchored plus ours. The slaver camp is only a few miles inland,” the sailor choked out. James smiled, apparently pleased with the now forthcoming information.

“How many in the camp?” asked James, the smile almost immediately gone from his face. The sailor squirmed again, panic returned to his face and he looked at James with pleading eyes. Before he could offer any reasoning or plea for James’ mercy, the captain motioned for Lilith and the cutlass which was once again glowing with heat. Lilith drew the sword and moved to place the blade flat on the man’s chest again. James leaned over and with one hand rotated the blade slightly to bear the edge against the sailor’s flesh. Lilith let the cutlass rest on the man’s chest just below the last burn.

“Please, no, no. I never went ashore there! Please girl, no!” the sailor pleaded, screaming through smoke from his own flesh and blood sizzling and crackling off the hot blade. Lilith looked over to James who slowly shook his head, she leaned more pressure down on the hilt of the cutlass. The sharp blade had worked it’s way deep into the man’s chest and his screams were fading with exhaustion and a state of delirious shock from the pain. Captain James grew tired of the line of questioning, he walked over and broke Lilith’s grip of the cutlass with his