The Dark Goddess [1] Newly Edited

Jo impatiently paced the length of her father’s lodgings. It infuriated her that her father always locked her up right before they were to overtake a ship. How was she ever to put her sword fighting skills to the test if all he ever did was allow her to duel with the crewmembers? None of them were man enough to let her lose and Jo was tired of being coddled. She was itching for a fight and here she was locked up like a common prisoner.

Suddenly, angry voices rang out and Jo heard the distinct pop of muskets being fired. The clanging of steel drew her to the porthole, her nose squished against the glass as she attempted to see what was happening. Surely the merchant ship wasn’t attempting to fight back? Even more enraged, Jo pounded and kicked at the sturdy oak door that kept her captive.

A cannonball crashed through the side of the pirate ship, rolling across the floor to stop at Jo’s feet. Jo couldn’t believe those damn Spaniards were blasting holes into her father’s ship! Jo stood at the gaping hole that had just been created, her hands on her hips. Sure enough she could see One-Eyed Freddie fighting a dark-haired Spaniard on the deck of the opposing ship. What a fool her father was to have her locked up when she could be helping with the battle.

Josette LaVie crossed over to where the iron cannonball lay and attempted to pick it up. After two tries, she was finally able to heave it off the ground. Stumbling, she crossed over to the door and slowly raised the cannonball. She dropped the cannonball against the doorknob and jumped back to avoid broken toes. The cannonball did it’s job, effectively breaking the lock and allowing Jo her freedom. Confidently, she kicked the door open wielding her cutlass in her right hand and her three-barreled pistol in the left.

Deftly, she shot a Spaniard right in between the eyes just as he was about to stab William, the navigator her father had forced into service. He threw a surprised look over his shoulder and Jo caught a glimpse of gratitude before he turned back to connect swords with another intruder. The majority of the battle was being fought on the Spanish ship, but a few Spaniards had managed to swing over to the Dark Goddess. Jo saw her father dueling with what looked like the Captain on the other boat. She admired her father’s excellent form as they clanged swords, but briefly before she too was forced into combat.

The man who connected swords with her seemed surprised once he realized she was a girl. His movement faltered just long enough for Josette to gut him with her cutlass. Hot sticky blood spurted onto her hands and clothes but she didn’t seem to notice. It felt good to be fighting, a real fight, for she had been afraid that she wouldn’t have the stomach for it. In fact, it made her adrenaline pump into overdrive and her senses were heightened.

The smell of sulfur intermingled with the ocean’s salty mist. Metal hissed as it cut through flesh and bone. The sound of ocean waves lapping against the hull was drowned out by the cries of the dying and wounded. Crimson stained the deck of both ships, and Jo watched as a man stumbled overboard, his innards spilling out as he fell.

Jo grabbed a rope to swing over to the other side, ready to get in the thick of the battle when she saw the musket aimed at her father’s back. She watched in shock as the musket was fired, a cloud of smoke obstructing her view. The musket ball blasted its way through Anthony LaVie’s body, bright red blood spurting out. Jo didn’t think, her body just reacted, hacking Spaniards until her arm ached.

She found the man who had fired the musket and shot him point blank in the face, gray brain matter splattering out the back of his head. Then she turned to her father, who knelt on the deck of the boat, staring surprised at the blood pooling in his hands. The Captain of the Spanish ship raised his sword to strike the final blow and Jo shot off three rounds into the man’s heart. He fell down at her feet, his lifeless brown eyes staring into the cloudless September sky.

“Pegg!” Jo cried out, as she knelt beside her dying father. Captain LaVie looked up into her face, smiling sadly. “Get the surgeon!” She said, fighting the tears. She would not cry; she was a LaVie!

Someone touched her arm and Jo looked up into the face of the mute Chinese sailor, Heng. His eyes pleaded with her, begging her to see her father’s obvious fate. Jo turned away stubbornly, ripping her shirt to help stop the flow of blood gushing out of his chest. Her father grabbed her hand, rubbing the calloused palm lovingly.

“The black chest in my quarters.”

“Yes, yes,” Jo hated the way his bright blue eyes seemed to be glazing over and how his skin was so pale. Suddenly, Pegg was there beside her with the surgeon, both of them bent over her father’s body.

“Pegg.” her father turned his attention to his loyal friend, “Josette is the new Captain. Make her the new Captain.”

“Aye.”

“Josette is the Captain of the Dark Goddess.” He tried to cry out so all could hear, but it came out as a mere whisper.

“You’re the Captain!” Jo protested, her voice cracking.

Anthony LaVie looked at his daughter with a mixture of love and sorrow. He was fading fast. “I love you.” Jo watched as he pulled a leather cord from around his neck and pressed something into her hands. “The black chest in my quarters.” Blood gurgled up from his throat and he squeezed her hand weakly.

“Yes, I’ll do whatever you want.”

Pegg grasped her by the shoulders trying to pry her away from her father’s corpse. “He’s in Davies Grip, little lass.”

Jo couldn’t believe it, her father was one of the fiercest pirates in the whole Caribbean. Had he truly fought his final battle? Jo looked up at the men standing about her. Some had their eyes lowered, their grief evident on their weathered faces. Others leered at her, daring her to cry. Josette would not cry. She was not some weak-kneed woman that revealed her emotions so openly. But it was hard to hold back the tears stinging her turquoise eyes, when she held her father’s dead body in her arms.

Now this would just not do, Jo scolded herself. Her father had just made her captain and she was blubbering like a lily-livered fool. He would want her to be strong, to make him proud. Gathering her wits, Jo stood up, her billowing white shirt and caramel britches soaked with scarlet blood.

“Pegg.” her voice sounded feeble as she searched for her courage, “my father’s body, take it to his quarters. Have the men assess the damages to the Dark Goddess. Take inventory, we will take as much loot as our cargo will hold.”

Pegg nodded his head in submission. Jo knew she could count on him. His undying allegiance to her father was her saving grace. “What of the prisoners?”

Jo looked at the group of prisoners that had been tied together by her father’s crew. “Kill them all.”

Pegg didn’t even flinch, “And what of the ship?”

To Jo the choice was obvious; the reminder of her father’s death was too strong. “Take whatever we need for repairs and torch it.”

Pegg immediately turned to the men assembled there. “You heard the Cap’n. Let’s move men.”

Whispers surrounded Jo, making her head throb. She didn’t need to hear what they were saying to know what they were talking about. Sailors were a superstitious lot and a woman on board, much less a female Captain, was considered bad luck. Why some of them were probably blaming her father’s untimely death on her mere presence. It was almost too much for Jo to handle; she had to keep her composure! These men would jump at any sign of weakness.

Would her blood stain the deck of the majestic Dark Goddess before the sun rose the next day? Many of these men had watched Jo grow up since she was a child, back when her father was commissioned by the Queen as a privateer for England. But many had been brought on after the Treaty of Utrecht was signed and her father had become a pirate. These shady characters her father had collected from the West Indies and beyond were the ones she feared most. Was a mutiny in her future?

Jo stood her full five feet nine inches, the wind whipping up her jet-black curls. “My father has left me in charge, you heard it from his very lips. If you parasitic sacks of entrails have a problem with that, you bilge rats can be keel-hauled.” She made eye contact with every crewmember to make sure they understood.

Pegg piped in. “The Cap’n gave her orders. Someone help me with this body!”

William stepped forward and placed his hands beneath Anthony’s armpits as Pegg squatted awkwardly to pick up his feet. Someone placed two planks down in between the two ships so that they could easily carry the body and the loot across. One-Eyed Freddie gave Jo a dark look before turning to the captives. Jo watched unmoved as fifteen men were shot in the head. Their deaths did nothing to subside her pain but she hadn’t expected it to.

Satisfied that her orders were being followed, Jo walked across the planks and right into her father’s chambers. Pegg had placed his body on the sturdy oak table her father had done most of his business at. Her stomach was in her throat and her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She had looked strong and intimidating on the outside, but now she realized just how quickly that façade was crumbling.

“Leave me,” she ordered, sensing Pegg in the shadows.

Pegg attempted to shut the damage door but it still hung slightly ajar even after he was gone. Jo propped a chair against it to keep it closed. Finally, she let the tears flow freely. Her body was racked with sobs and Jo shoved her fist in her mouth to keep from crying out. She had known that one day her father would die. Life as a pirate was not easy and she had seen many men die from every cause, battle wounds to food poisoning to sun stroke. Grief and fear caused Jo to react so unfavorably. Would she be marooned on some godforsaken island? How long would Pegg’s loyalty last?

Jo crossed over to her father’s body. Pegg had graciously pulled a blanket up over his chest to hide the gaping hole left by the musket ball. Jo lovingly examined his face, admiring his high cheekbones, the aristocratic nose, and strong jaw line accented by his scruffy black facial hair. His lips were pressed together in a painful grimace and rigor mortis caused his empty blue eyes to stare at the ceiling.

Jo suddenly remembered that she held something in her hand, as her father had issued his cryptic message. Opening the palm of her right hand, Jo found a small iron key hanging from a leather cord. What did the black chest hold that was so important to her father? Why had Jo never been told about this key or the chest until now? She couldn’t even remember seeing a black chest in her father’s quarters. She retied the cord around her neck and hid the key beneath her shirt.

Jo felt exhausted from the strenuous battle. She was stricken by her father’s sudden death. And the multitude of unanswered questions was simply overwhelming. Forgetting her fear, Jo settled into the red leather chair, her father’s favorite chair, and laid her head down in her arms. She would look for the chest tomorrow when she wasn’t so tired. The gentle swaying of the ocean lulled her to sleep.