“What is that supposed to mean?” Will asked indignantly, not liking where this conversation was heading.
John didn’t say anything at first, just kept eyeing Will with his smirk nearly turning into laughter. Finally he asked, “How can someone who does such a soft job survive out here?”
“I did not choose that job over others,” Will answered, giving way to irritation. The last thing he needed on top of everything else was to be made fun of. “Mr. Cunnings was the only one I could find who would hire me.”
“Uh-huh, likely story,” John replied skeptically. “I’ll wager you come from a wealthy family who’s disowned you and you thought tailorin’ would be a good job since you’ve never had to do a hard day’s work in your life.”
With this comment, Matthew quickly sought to defuse the argument.
“John, what makes you think Will isn’t telling the truth?” he asked in confusion.
John shrugged. The truth was, he just liked to be difficult sometimes. It amused him. After all, meeting a young man who worked as a tailor was just too good a chance to pass up, and he didn’t mean any real harm by it. He was curious to see how Will would react to his words and how far he could be pushed. John was actually a little surprised. He’d half expected Will to jump all over him at being accused of doing a woman’s job. Will restrained himself quite well, better than John had expected.
“I am telling the truth,” Will insisted. “I lived in that orphanage for fifteen years, and I never even knew my parents. Besides, tailoring isn’t as easy as you think it is.”
“Well, I don’t see why you didn’t try to find a decent, self-respectin’ job,” John remarked, not quite ready for the argument to come to an end.
“He did try,” Matthew told him. “He worked for me as a blacksmith for a couple of years, but we didn’t make enough money for both of us to live on, so I told him I wanted him to find a job he could get better pay for.”
“It was not like I could go on searching until I found a job I liked,” Will added, still disgruntled.
“Then tell me this,” John pressed. “Why didn’t you just leave the city and find a job elsewhere?”
“Besides Matthew, I’m the only friend Skye has had for the past eleven years. I would never have considered leaving.”
Fearing he had nothing more to goad him with, John struggled to find another avenue of interrogation. His eyes snagged on the sword hanging at Will’s side, and he nearly grinned.
“Can you even use that sword?” he asked, nodding to the weapon. “Or is it just for show?”
Will pulled it out and pointed it at John. “Can you use yours?”
Now John did grin. It was just the reaction he’d hoped for. He pulled out his own sword.
“You’ll never win against me,” John declared with a cocky smirk.
Will said nothing, deciding to let his skills speak for themselves.
John was first to attack, and Will parried perfectly. They traded several blows back and forth, Will’s every move executed to perfection. However, he could tell that John wasn’t trying very hard, so he decided to show John he could do more than just the simple moves they were trading back and forth.
Will swiftly slid his blade down John’s until the point of it slid into the guard of John’s sword, right above his hand. He yanked his own sword away at an odd angle, using the strength he had gained while working as a blacksmith, and sent John’s sword skittering loudly down the deck. John watched in shock as it skid to a halt several feet away. Will’s move had been so quick that John had not anticipated it. Finally, he took his eyes from his sword and looked into Will’s smiling face.
“Luck,” John muttered. “Do it again and maybe I’ll take you seriously.”
John retrieved his sword, and he and Will fought again. This time, John paid more attention, but as hard as he tried to keep it from happening, Will sent his sword sliding down the deck in under a minute.
“I admit,” John said reluctantly, “you’re pretty good, but let’s see how well you do without your little tricks. Just an old-fashioned fair fight.”
Will nodded.
The two faced off once more, both doing well. They tested each other skills, searching for a weakness. The duel quickly gained speed and complexity. At first John was quite confident that he had the upper hand, but soon he began to doubt himself. In just a few minutes and before John quite knew what had happened, Will had forced his sword off to the right and had his own sword pressed against John’s chest. In a true fight, he would have been at Will’s mercy.
Will was silent as he smiled and waited for John to speak first.
“Where’d you learn to fight like that?” John asked finally.
“Matthew and Skye,” Will told him fondly.
John gawked at him. “The girl taught you?”
Will chuckled. “Yes, her father taught her a great number of useful skills when she was little. She is quite the swordswoman.”
“I must say, she taught you well. Your skills are pretty impressive,” John admitted with great reluctance.
Will smiled again. “Thank you.”
Matthew, who now stood beside him, stared at John expectantly.
After a moment, John gave him a blank look. “What?”
“Aren’t you going to apologize?” Matthew prompted. “After all, you made some pretty serious insinuations.”
John rolled his eyes and sighed. “All right,” he said looking at Will. “I . . . I’m sorry. But there’s just one teensy little thing I would like the both of you to do for me.”
He stepped forward to put his arms around Will and Matthew, pulling them close together. Speaking in a lowered voice as if someone else might hear him even though not another soul stood within many yards, he said, “Please, don’t go sayin’ anythin’ about this to my crew when they get here.”
“I won’t,” Will agreed with a smile. He looked around the ship. “Where are they, anyway?”
“I let ‘em go ashore when we arrived here last night. They’ll be back soon.”
“You arrived here last night?” Will asked.
“Yes, only maybe an hour before you did,” John answered.
Turning to Matthew, Will said, “I think it’s quite evident God is helping us.”
Matthew smiled. “Yes, indeed.”
* * *
Slowly, sleep began to wear off, and Skye became aware of her surroundings. A chill ran along her body, but not the unbearable, freezing cold she had experienced while tied to the mast. Opening her eyes slowly, she focused on the side of the cell. Through the crack in the ship’s side, she could see that the sun shone brightly.
With effort, Skye sat up. Her body was stiff, and her muscles ached from the strain they had suffered. Her throat was very dry and raw, and her stomach ached with a fierce hunger. As if in answer to prayer, Skye noticed a plate of food and a cup sitting by the door of her cell. Thank You, God, Skye offered up a quick prayer as she took the cup and drank some of the water, relieving her parched throat. Starving, she ate everything on the plate, too hungry to care what it tasted like.
Feeling considerably better, Skye tried standing. She had a bit of difficulty at first, but her legs quickly found their strength again. Walking over to the crack, she peered out. The contrasting shades of blue sky and ocean were all she could see.
With a heavy sigh, Skye sat down against the wall. She found herself realizing that she hadn’t been able to read her Bible in four days, and how she missed it! Never before had she gone so long without reading.
As the hours lapsed slowly, Skye either slept or sat in thought. Many of her thoughts were of Will. She missed him more than words could describe. Skye also thought about the fact that both her parents had spent time on this very ship. She realized that she could be sitting in the very cell Kelley had kept her mother in.
* * *
Mid morning, John’s crew returned to the ship. They appeared to be fairly decent men if one could call a pirate decen
t, though most had clearly been up half the night drinking. The test now was whether or not they’d stay when John informed them of the new plan. As he stood at the edge of the quarterdeck just above them, with Matthew and Will flanking him, John called them all together.
“Men, there’s been a slight change in plans,” John began good-naturedly. “I met one of me ol’ friends last night, an’ he needs a bit of help.”
Will glanced at Matthew, wondering how the men would take it when John got into the details because so far he was making it sound like something that would be child’s play.
“What do we need to do, Captain?” the first mate asked, unconcerned.
“Well, you see, this girl he’s rather fond of was kidnapped, and I told ‘im I’d help ‘im save ‘er,” John answered.
“Who kidnapped ‘er?”
John tried to keep a smile on his face, but it was mixed with an expression that suggested he’d been hoping no one would ask that question. Finally, he had to answer.
“Just a pirate by the name of Francis Kelley.” John made the name sound like it was of little importance, but to the crew he might as well have said the devil himself.
Each of the crewmen took a step back as the group murmured all kinds of terrible rumors about Kelley. The first mate shook his head.
“We ain’t about to go after the likes of Kelley. It’s suicide!”
“What did I tell you?” John murmured aside to Matthew and Will, but to his men he smiled and tried to calm them. “Come now, gentlemen, just ‘cause you’ve heard a few stories about ‘im don’t mean there’s truth in all of ‘em.”
His words were of no comfort to the men.
“Come on, men, my friend here saved my life once. We’ve gotta help ‘im,” John pleaded.
But the first mate shook his head again. “He saved yer life, Captain, not ours. You help ‘im, but leave us out of it.”
John’s smile and optimistic attitude disappeared, and he glowered down at the men. “Are you sayin’ you’ve all turned your backs on me?” he said desperately, his voice a little too high.
“That ain’t it at all, Captain,” the first mate replied. “We haven’t turned our backs on ya, we just ain’t gonna risk a run in with Kelley.”
“Fine,” John muttered crossly. “I want all of you cowards to get your belongings and get off my ship. I’m sailin’ in five minutes. Any man still aboard, stays whether he wants to or not.”
The men wasted no time as they scrambled below deck to gather up their belongings. Meanwhile, Will turned to John.
“Can we sail with only three men?”
“Looks like we’re gonna have to,” was John’s reply.
Still sore over his crew’s betrayal, he began barking out orders to Matthew and Will to help him prepare for sailing, intending to make good on his threat to sail in five minutes with or without his crew. Sure enough, five minutes later, the ship sailed away from Tortuga, leaving all the crewmen standing on the dock, watching her go and talking of her certain fate.
Once they were well on their way and Matthew and Will had accomplished their tasks, something that would have been much quicker had there been a full crew, they walked up to the wheel where John stood.
“Everything seems to be in good order,” Matthew informed John.
“Good,” John said with a pleased smile. “You made good time too with it only bein’ the two of you.”
Matthew smiled while Will stared out at sea, his thoughts on Skye now that they were finally on their way to rescue her. In a moment, he turned to John with a question.
“John, what is your ship’s name?”
John cast a side glance at him. “The Good Fortune,” he said proudly.
Matthew burst into laughter and John scowled. “What’s so funny?”
Matthew shook his head. “I was just thinking that some may argue over whether or not a ship with such a name fits you.”
“I’ve had me fair share of luck over the years,” John retorted sourly.
“The last time we met didn’t seem to be an indicator of that.”
John scoffed at the memory but then turned to Matthew, flashing a grin. “Ah, yes, but if your memory serves you, you’ll remember the incident was almost fifteen years ago. A lot can happen in that time.”
Matthew only grinned in return, a twinkle in his eyes, and Will watched the two of them with some amusement. He could see that John wasn’t just some pirate Matthew had happened to save once, but someone who had been and still was a good friend. It made Will wonder what their story was, and he decided to ask.
“How did you two become such good friends?”
Both Matthew and John looked at him and then at each other.
“You should tell ‘im,” John decided after a moment. “You probably remember it better than I do.”
Agreeing that was probably true, Matthew looked back to Will. “Soon after I left England, I came here to the Caribbean and was doing some work repairing cells in the local fort where I lived. John was a prisoner there and the only company I had while I worked. One day we started talking and soon became friends.” He glanced at John with a grin. “Looking back though, I think John’s mind was more on how he could use me to escape than on becoming friends.”
John shrugged. “I won’t try to deny that that was my original intent, but I got to like talkin’ to you.”
Matthew only chuckled and continued. “In a few days I decided I’d always regret it if I didn’t help him escape, so I brought him a knife to pick the lock of his cell. I was going to help him sneak out of the fort, but that’s where he came up with his own plan.” Matthew pinned his eyes on John accusingly. “I had my back turned and then suddenly there was nothing. I woke up on the floor some time later with several soldiers around me.”
“I can explain,” John inserted quickly. “I didn’t want anyone to know you helped me, so I had to make it look like you had nothin’ to do with it. I figured that was the best way. I did leave that note in your pocket to apologize.”
“You hit me quite hard, though,” Matthew quibbled.
John smiled sheepishly. “I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t have to hit you again.”
Matthew laughed. “Oh, I see.”
Silence followed for a short time until John began quizzing Matthew.
“So now, how exactly are you plannin’ to find the girl? As of yet, you haven’t told me where we’re sailin’, and I need to know where we’re goin’. Do you know where Kelley is headed?”
“Actually, we don’t,” Matthew informed him slowly. “This is about as far as my plan goes. I’m trusting God for the rest.”
John made a noise of disbelief. “That’s trustin’ a lot, don’tcha think?”
“No, I don’t. He has complete control of the situation, and if He wants us to find her, we will.”
John sighed as if he’d heard it all before. “If He’s in control, why would He let an innocent girl be kidnapped in the first place?”
Matthew shook his head. “I don’t know, but I do know that it wasn’t merely chance that Will and I happened to arrive in Tortuga at nearly the same time you did even after all the years that have gone by since we last saw each other. I believe there’s a reason that you and I became friends and I was able to save you. Perhaps God helped me save your life then because He knew I’d need your help now.”
“It’s all a very intriguing thought, but for now, I’m just gonna rely on luck,” John said, dismissing Matthew’s beliefs.
Matthew glanced at Will and shrugged slightly. He had tried, same as he had fifteen years ago, but he never seemed to get anywhere with John. Still, he’d never give up on his friend. Who knew what God had planned for him?
Chapter Eight
The sun had just passed its peak as early afternoon crept in the next day. Below deck, Skye paced her dark cell. She had found one of the worst parts of being held captive was the endlessness of doing nothing. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since anyone had come
down to her cell. She was plagued by hunger, thirst, and the longing to be free. How she missed Will! The thought of never seeing him again was unbearable, and discouragement tried to overwhelm her. But she forced those feelings away by reciting all the Bible verses and hymns she had memorized.
When another hour had passed, Skye started to think she’d be neglected for yet another day, but then came the sound of footsteps. She turned to see the two pirates who always did Kelley’s bidding. They quickly went through the usual process of taking her out of her cell and bringing her up to the deck. Kelley was waiting for them, an evil grin that filled Skye with dread plastered on his ruthless face.
“I see you’ve recovered quickly,” he commented.
Skye just stared at him.
“Tell me, do you think your recovery will be as swift after being tied to the mast a second time?” Kelley taunted. “That’s what I’ll do if you do not tell me where the treasure is, and this time you’ll stay there longer.”
Although Skye wasn’t certain she could endure the horribleness again, she refused to consider breaking her promise.
“If you want to have me die of thirst, then so be it. I will not tell you anything,” Skye declared.
Kelley’s eyes darkened, burning with intense fury. Never had he anticipated having this much trouble with her.
“You’re as stubborn as your father,” he muttered darkly.
“My father was a great man and if you are saying that I am anything like him, then I take that as a compliment,” Skye retorted.
Outraged, Kelley raised his arm and backhanded her soundly. Skye winced and touched her face lightly. Looking back to Kelley, she was still determined as ever.
“You’ve also inherited your father’s quick tongue and that got ‘im into serious trouble, as it will you,” Kelley warned in tight-lipped anger. “Now tell me where the treasure is right now!” he bellowed. The dangerous edge to his voice was one few would dare to mess with.