Jo sat on the deck, her feet propped up against a barrel. They had docked the Goddess just off the coast of Cuba, careful to use the craggy outcroppings as cover. They were waiting for the sun to set, then William would take a few men ashore to abduct new crew members, while everyone else would stay behind to guard the ship. Jo and Will had devised a whistling system, that hopefully would alert each other of any trouble. The ship’s cat, a tabby with a fat belly from all the rodents she ate, rubbed against Jo’s arm. Distracted, Jo scratched the cat behind the ears. One of the sailor’s began to sing. 

Oh Sally she's the gal that I splice nearly 

Her lips is red and her hair is curly 

Oh Sally she'n my 'Badian beauty 

Sally gal she know her duty 

Oh Sally she'n my bright mulatta 

Sally gal she do what she ought to 

Oh seven long years I courted Sally 

But I don't care for her dilly dally 

So I signed onboard of a New Bedford whaler 

When I come home she was married to a tailor. 

Some of the men laughed at his song. Pegg puffed on his pipe, blowing blue smoke into the violet sky. He blew another puff of smoke, before he began to sing his own shanty. 

When I was a lad in a fishing town 

My old man said to me: 

"You can spend your life, your jolly life 

Sailing on the sea. 

You can search the world for pretty girls 

‘Til your eyes grow weak and dim, 

But don't go fishing for a mermaid, son 

If you don't know how to swim" 

'Cause her hair was green as seaweed 

Her skin was blue and pale 

I loved that girl with all my heart 

I only liked the upper part 

I did not like the tail. 

Jo couldn’t help but chuckle at the song. Several men glanced in her direction, as if they had forgotten she was even there. Pegg used his thumb to smash out the dying embers of his tobacco, knocking the ash out on his wooden leg. For a long while, there was no sound, but the waves crashing against the cliffs. Feeling restless, Jo stood up and stretched. 

She crossed over to the portside, watching as the sun began to settle into the ocean, the rays tinting the clouds pink and orange. Samuel appeared at her side. “The men be lighting the lamps.” 

“No, douse the lamps. No light!” Jo whirled on them. 

“Douse the lamps!” Samuel relayed the order.  

William lowered one of the longboats into the sable water. Jo felt overly nervous as he swung himself over the side of the brig and down the rope ladder. “Just get a few, stout men. Preferably some that speak English. But if you’re facing trouble, abandon the mission.” 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were worried about me.” William smiled up at her. 

Jo frowned. “I just don’t want to be losing the few crew hands I have.” Angry, she stormed into her cabin and slammed the door. “How dare that gap-toothed, lily sniffing fish head! To think that I, that I were to care,” she said it distastefully, “about him! Why, I wouldn’t care if he got the Foul disease!” 

Irate, she rummaged in a small cabinet by her hammock and pulled out a bottle of port. Her father had had it for years, always saving it for a special occasion. And while this wasn’t a moment to be celebrating, Jo needed something a little stronger than rum. She uncorked the bottle and took a hearty swig. Wiping the back of her mouth with her sleeve, she crossed over to the bookshelves. Pulling Milton’s Paradise Lost off the shelf, she took another gulp of the booze.  

She unlocked the black chest and pulled out her father’s letters. Perhaps she could fine some sort of clue in them. Settling down in the red chair, she began to read the first letter.  

My Dearest Camille, 

Like a lily among thorns, is my darling among the maidens. Oh, Camille, how I earn for you. Life at sea is harsh and I fear I will lose my life to this untamable beast. The only thing I have to keep me sane, is you, my beloved. I remember your lips, like a scarlet ribbon. 

Jo threw the letter down, frustrated. She shuffled through the letters, until she came upon one that did not appear to be a love letter. It was dated January 8th, 1708. Jo remembered that year, distinctly, because that was the year her father had brought her upon the Dark Goddess. It was not addressed to anyone. 

I have retrieved Josette from Paris. Her Grandmother was not willing to give her up. I am ashamed to admit this, but I stole her away from her bed, in the dead of night. We shall make the voyage back to Chevara, as soon as I have retrieved the map. I cannot wait to reunite with you, my love. It shall be a joyous day, when we are together again. 

Oh, my darling, how much more pleasing is your love than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume than any spice! Your lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, my bride.  

Confusion made Jo’s stomach roll over like a cap-sized boat. Jo’s mother had died giving birth to her, so who was this strange woman her father so desired to reunite with? Had he not called her his bride? Had he kept a second wife, this whole time? Jo felt betrayed, as if the adultery had been committed against her. But that was silly, he had clearly not fallen in love with this woman until after her mother had died. So it wasn’t adultery, was it? 

Jo tipped the bottle back and gulped down the liquor until her stomach burned. Coughing, she slammed it back down, glaring at the letter. Picking it up, she re-read it. He had mentioned a map. Was it the same map that he had hidden in the chest? What of this foreign place called Chevara? Frustrated, Jo began to twirl her ring. The opal glimmered beautifully in the inadequate candle light. Here she had read these letters, hoping to answer her questions, and instead she had just unveiled more mysteries. 

A wave of nausea washed over her and Jo sprinted to the door. Flinging it open, she raced to the portside, reaching the rail just in time. Jo vomited until her stomach was empty and she was left to dry heave. Tears blinded her vision and she felt vulnerable. She hated it.  

“It’s alright lass.” Pegg put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Even the most hardened sea rat has a touch o’ sea-sickness.” 

Jo wiped at her eyes. “Pegg, how long did you know my Father?” 

Pegg leaned back against the rail, staring up at the star smattered sky. “I figure, it ‘twas three years after you were born. Your father saved me, ya know.” 

“He did?” Jo spit, trying to rid her mouth of the bitter taste.  

“Aye, my ship was caught in a hurricane and we shipwrecked on some godforsaken island. Nothing but sand. We thought we were going to die out there. Aye, we nearly did.” 

“Then my father showed up.” She wiped her chin with her sleeve. 

“Aye, I swore an oath that I’d serve him for the rest of my life.” 

Jo stared out into the night. Although, the sky was glittering with stars, there was no moon. It made the darkness almost suffocating, as if the absence of light was trying to push it’s way into Jo’s body. She twirled her opal ring, slipping it off past her dirty fingernail and then slid it back on. “Did he, did he ever mention another woman. I mean, other than my mother?” 

Pegg raised an eyebrow. “Well, I ain’t goin’ to lie. Your father was no saint. He had his share of lady friends.” 

Jo looked down at her scuffed boots. “Was he in love with any of them?” 

“What’s this all about?” Pegg asked, after a moment of silence. When Jo didn’t answer, he responded. “Nay, lassie, your Father’s heart always belonged to your Mother. Well, that is until you came along.” 

Jo let out a sigh of relief. “Have you ever heard of an island by the name of Chevara?” 

“You be full of questions tonight, Jo.” Pegg laughed. He thought hard. “Nay, can’t say I ever heard tell of such an island.” 

Jo blinked, trying to determine if she had seen a longboat in the distance. She was almost positive that she had caught the glimmer of oars being raised out of the water before they were dug back in. 

Suddenly, a shrill whistle broke the night’s silence. Jo had been right, she had seen the longboat that contained her small crew. In pursuit were two rowboats, filled with Spanish soldiers. Her stomach leaped into her mouth and her heartbeat was like deafening thunder in her ears.  

“On deck, all hands!” Jo cried out. “Drop the mainsail!” 

“To your stations you sluggards! Man the yards!” Pegg yelled. 

Footsteps pounded against the wood as men scurried to carry out orders. A gunshot rang out, and Jo whirled to see if her men had been hit. Smoke rose from the first longboat, and Jo heard angry shouts from the Spanish row boats. William and Joshua were rowing with all of their might, as Freddie fired off another shot. A Spaniard cried out, before slipping overboard.  

“You be desertin’ the men?” Pegg asked, as a wind grabbed hold of the open sails.  

“Not if I can help it.” Jo replied. “Lower the kedge!” She watched as Heng lowered the small anchor, used to keep the ship steady. If need be, the anchor would be easy to lift at a moment’s notice. As the longboat drew closer, Jo called out new orders. “Lower Jacob’s ladder! Ready the guns!” 

Several men hurried over to the port, propping their guns against the lip of the ship. Jo would have to abandon the longboat, but she figured it was worth the sacrifice, if they could escape. Just as William grabbed for the rung of the rope ladder, the Spanish began to barrage them with gun fire. 

“Fire!” Jo screamed, raising her cutlass. Sparks lit the night sky, the burnt smoke from the gun powder stinging her nostrils. “Reload, reload!” She cocked her pistol and fired off a round, although at this range it was probably useless. William climbed aboard, dragging with him a stocky Spaniard. Behind him were two more prisoners and Joshua. Freddie and an African brought up the rear.  

“Weigh anchor!” Jo cried out. “Will! Heave the rudder hard to starboard.” 

“Hard to starboard!” Pegg echoed. 

One of the prisoners darted for the side of the boat, calling out in Spanish. “Pegg, would you shut that son of a biscuit eater up!” she called out. She watched as Pegg knocked the man over the head with an empty rum bottle, the glass shattering into a million green shards. The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious.  

“We’re putting distance ‘tween us!” Samuel called from the bow. 

“Aye.” Pegg grinned. “The wind be with us!” 

“Set our heading for a northwest direction!” Jo said. 

“For Tortuga!” William cried out. 

“Tortuga!” The crew echoed.