Page 96 of Storm over the Caribbean
“All righty.” Firmly, I grabbed hold of the impromptu satchel my poor dress had been fashioned into, filled with all our current supplies and tools. “Let’s get going then.”
I was already halfway down the path when a sudden realization hit me, and I froze in place. How the heck had this not occurred to me before?
“Wait a minute…” I frowned, looking down at myself. “The plan is to ingratiate us with the pirates, right?”
“Indeed.”
“And then join up, pretending to be two poor, shipwrecked fellows, right?”
“Indeed.”
“Maybe that has changed recently, but…” I pointed down at my belly. “Last time I checked,pregnant menweren’t exactly very prevalent!”
Mr Rikkard Ambrose didn’t stop. Didn’t look around. Didn’t even twitch. He didn’t seem very fazed by that statement.
“Oh, don’t worry, Mrs Ambrose.” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “I already have a solution for that.”
***
On tiptoes, I approached the nearest bush and, pushing aside a branch, peeked at what lay beyond. There, a few dozen feet away, at the end of a narrow dirt path that led to the entrance to the fenced encampment, stood two armed pirates—or rather, slouched. I supposed they could be called guards, if guarding were defined as sleeping with one eye open.
“Are you sure we can’t just sneak in?” I whispered. “They don’t look particularly attentive.”
“And, pray, then what?” Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Mr Rikkard Ambrose appearing beside me, eyes narrowed at the pirate camp. “There are only a few hundred people in that place at maximum. They almost certainly all know each other. If we just march in there…”
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to. I could already feel the metaphorical cutlass at my throat.
“Um…right. Let’s not do that.”
“Agreed.”
“Let’s stick with the plan.”
“Indeed. Remember, for now, this is only about reconnaissance. Move slowly, move carefully, and above all—”
“Be silent?”
“How did you know?”
“Just a guess.”
“Hm.”
Giving a brief nod, he raised his hand and motioned towards the pirates with two fingers. Then he made a circular motion in the air.
Circle around. Get closer.
I nodded.
Got it.
There was a palisade around the entire pirate camp. A smart thing, usually. It prevented any sudden attack. But it also prevented people inside the camp from noticing anyone sneaking up on them. Cautiously, the two of us made our way along the rough wooden wall, until we were only a few feet away from the guards, hidden by the curve of the wall. Close enough to listen.
“…shitty job,” one pirate was saying. “Should have become a smuggler, I should! They do their jobs for a day or two, then turn around and go back to their nice, comfy home.”
“Aye, but they have to work nights,” the other pointed out. “Plus, if people find out about what you’re doing, your life’s down the drain. Like with your cousin…what was his name again?”
“Tom, the old arse,” Pirate Number One growled. “But don’t let that sneaky bastard fool you. He’s still cheerfully running his smuggling ring from inside his cell. Plus…ow!” Reaching up, he quickly slapped his cheek—but not quickly enough. The mosquito buzzed away, blood happily sloshing in its stomach. “…he doesn’t have to deal with those darn bloodsuckers!”
