The Dust Of 100 Dogs Part 17

Her plan to begin sinking Spanish s.h.i.+ps southwest of Havana excited her and depressed her. Still lost without Seanie, she knew that gold would never fill the hole his absence had left in her. She had no need for fineries. No want for drink or wh.o.r.es. No knack for gambling. But why not try something new? And the sailor was right-the Spanish needed to be harnessed. They'd taken nearly all of the Caribbean for themselves, and did nothing but spoil the place and make slaves of its people! She would take on a private crusade to send King Philip a message. Finally, she might find a way to rid herself of the bad blood that coursed through her orphaned veins-and finally, she might wreak revenge on a dragon.

There was a knock just before daybreak.

"Captain, a s.h.i.+p to the south has spotted us," David said through the door. "And we've hit wind."

"Tell the men to stand ready," she answered. If for no other reason, she'd have to attack the coming s.h.i.+p for food or else her men would start dropping. Yet she felt fear and revenge deep in her empty belly.

After seventeen days stuck in the light air, the Emerald Emerald had picked up its pace. The approaching s.h.i.+p flew no flag, and Emer a.s.sumed it was the Frenchman. (Every s.h.i.+p that approached, since Emer left Tortuga, was the imaginary Frenchman.) The thought of him made her stomach turn and growl. But now she had a choice other than running. had picked up its pace. The approaching s.h.i.+p flew no flag, and Emer a.s.sumed it was the Frenchman. (Every s.h.i.+p that approached, since Emer left Tortuga, was the imaginary Frenchman.) The thought of him made her stomach turn and growl. But now she had a choice other than running.

David lined the gunners up and divided ammunition between them. He made sure the sailors knew which way to tack to get ahead of the wind and knew when to turn. And mostly, he made sure each recruit had a belly full of rum and a stark reminder: if we don't take this s.h.i.+p, we won't eat until we dock again.

Emer arrived as the port cannons fired. Surprisingly, the approaching s.h.i.+p did not fire back but continued heading toward the Emerald Emerald, on course to ram her. The crew turned the Emerald Emerald around and fired the starboard guns. Emer aimed a long-barreled musket and fired. She continued this until the boats met with a mighty crash, and then pulled the sharp cutla.s.s from her waist and began to butcher. around and fired the starboard guns. Emer aimed a long-barreled musket and fired. She continued this until the boats met with a mighty crash, and then pulled the sharp cutla.s.s from her waist and began to butcher.

Men piled onto the s.h.i.+p. At first, it looked like her crew would be badly outnumbered, but Emer soon realized that the men coming aboard knew little about fighting. Some didn't even have weapons. Emer injured three in her first strike, by holding her blade horizontally and spinning around, slas.h.i.+ng an eye, two ears, and a neck. All three men fell to the deck and screamed for help.

Her men were having a similarly easy time in the brawl. Some even had enough time to stop and mutilate their adversary before moving on to the next one. Emer continued to drop one man after another, looking around when she could for their leader. What captain would send weak, untrained men into such a battle? For what reason? Emer feared she knew that reason. She feared that she she was the reason. She could almost smell the French b.a.s.t.a.r.d where she stood. was the reason. She could almost smell the French b.a.s.t.a.r.d where she stood.

The battle took less than an hour. David ordered the men onto the s.h.i.+p to fetch food and find its captain. Emer watched from the forecastle. When the men returned with no captain and no food, David looked to Emer for instructions. She rose and walked to the ropes, boarded the s.h.i.+p, and returned five minutes later with a crate.

The men stood on deck, still surrounded by dead and dying sailors, pa.s.sing a bucket of rum around. "It's not without regret when I tell you there was no food on board," she said. The men noted Emer's voice and her tapered waistline. Had the three bragging sailors been telling the truth that morning? Was their captain really a woman?

"But I want you to take a good look at this," Emer said, kicking the crate out toward the men. "From now on, this this will be our cargo! will be our cargo! This This will be our reward!" will be our reward!"

When no men approached the crate, but instead stood gawking at her sweat-drenched figure, Emer bent down and opened it. David reached in with both hands and pulled an array of jewels and gold trinkets out. A string of pearls emptied onto the deck and rolled under the crew's feet, scattering. Then the men began to cheer, one by one. A sailor threw his hat in the air. Another hugged the man next to him. Another jumped up and down all by himself, feeling the rum slos.h.i.+ng round his very empty belly. They would be rich. They would be famous. They would be respected.

All of a sudden, there was a rush for the pearls. Nearly every man was on his knees, s.n.a.t.c.hing as many as he could. One man threw himself down on top of ten or more, searching with his one hand under him. Another stepped on hands that tried to reach out. Another punched a sailor for stealing what he claimed was his.

Emer stopped the melee by firing her pistol. She ordered the men to attention.

"Why are you squabbling over tiny pearls, men? Are you not savvy? We'll divide this cache as we would any other-each of us getting our share."

One man called out, "I want my share now!"

"Dewey has four, sir! He's not allowed four if I can't have one!"

Emer looked at her crew and saw children. So she did what any fair mother would do. She made the men return all the pearls, and then gave one to each crew member to keep for the night, to exchange later for his fair share. This arrangement seemed to make the crew happy, and allowed them to get back to work and move the s.h.i.+p closer to the Cayman Islands-where an imagined feast awaited them.

Emer walked to her quarters and met David, who had moved the crate there and emptied it onto her bunk. They marveled.

"A s.h.i.+p full of starving men, David. That's all they were."

"Rich starving men," he corrected her. He winked and walked from the room, still rolling a small pearl between his finger and thumb. starving men," he corrected her. He winked and walked from the room, still rolling a small pearl between his finger and thumb.

Emer was alone with her first pile of treasure. At first, she stared. Then, she laughed so hard she cried. Then, she bolted the door and undressed down to her knickers, rolled herself on top of the jewels, and fell into a rum-induced nap.

Before docking the Emerald Emerald at the Caymans, Emer gathered her men on deck. "Any man who brags of booty will be left behind to find a new captain. Is that clear?" Most of the men nodded in agreement. She motioned to David and he began giving each man a handful of silver in exchange for their single pearl. "This is for tonight. Tomorrow you'll each receive your full share." at the Caymans, Emer gathered her men on deck. "Any man who brags of booty will be left behind to find a new captain. Is that clear?" Most of the men nodded in agreement. She motioned to David and he began giving each man a handful of silver in exchange for their single pearl. "This is for tonight. Tomorrow you'll each receive your full share."

Once the crew was gone, Emer and David lifted the crate and headed toward the town's market. After finding a trader giving a fair price for their jewels, they returned to the s.h.i.+p to lighten their large load of coin. Emer had purchased a sack of fruit and two fully cooked fowl, and stayed on board to relieve the three starving men she'd left to guard the s.h.i.+p. Three hours later, David returned, allowing her to go on her own shopping trip.

After buying enough supplies for their scouting journey to Campeche on the Spanish Main, and directing the s.h.i.+pments to the dock, Emer found two small shops. The first was a clothier, a fine clothier who sold many great garments. She bought two cotton blouses, several sets of knickers, a pair of wide-legged trousers and a rather fancy hat. She looked over his selection of capes and chose two. Both black, one only inches longer than the other, they were perfectly plain and ready for embroidering. On an adjacent back street, Emer found a man who sold all types of thread and fabric. She bought two bunches of every color he offered, several packets of tint, a ground bark that would darken the shade of the thread, and three more needles.

On her way back to the boat, she stopped outside the tavern and listened to her men singing drunken songs, then headed back to the dock. David had tidied the s.h.i.+p and done inventory. They would be ready to go once they sold the captured brig and restocked their ammunition in the morning.

"Do you think the men will object to leaving tomorrow?" Emer asked.

David shrugged. "They'll do what we tell 'em. They're loyal."

"I'm afraid I don't trust any of them." Emer poured them both a mug of strong Cayman rum. "I reckon I only trust you."

"Well, that's a start."

They sat on deck together and watched the stars appear, drinking for an hour until David leaned his head on Emer's shoulder and breathed loudly. "You know, we would make a good pair."

Emer laughed. "I think you'll need to go ash.o.r.e for that, David."

"Admit it!" he said, rubbing his stubbly jaw. "We would!"

She looked at him. His eyes were bright blue, with long lashes, and he had lines round his mouth from smiling and the sun. His arms were strong and his hands were rough from a lifetime of hard work. He kept his dirty-blond hair tied in a tail down his back, and was usually clean-shaven. He was as handsome as Seanie-but he wasn't Seanie.

"Maybe in another time and place, but not here, friend. Here, we're comrades. That's all."

"You must crave a man after so long at sea! You aren't made of gla.s.s, are you?"

Emer stopped laughing and felt sad.

"Are you?" David pressed.

She sat up straight and tried to look serious. David noticed this and did the same, looking into her eyes and squinting drunkenly.

"I do crave a man, David. I crave one man. A man I probably won't see again," she said. "But I love him still."

David was silent.

"You think I'm daft, don't you?" Emer asked. "You think I'm stupid."

"No. I think it's sweet. It's sad, I reckon. You're a beautiful woman, you know, and it's sad that you wait for a man you'll never have."

"I might," Emer defended herself. "I might go back and find him. That's what I'll do one day. He'll most likely be married by now, but-"

David interrupted. "Then why do you taunt yourself?"

"I can't help it. I just do." Emer folded her hands in her lap and looked at them. "Now, you tell me your story-then we'll decide which of us is worse off!"

David said, "I've never met a woman I've loved. I've never had a specific woman in mind. Just a quiet life, tending my land with a warm woman in my bed, is all."

"That's all? You never had one woman you dreamed of?"

"Not until I met you, no." David looked at her softly.

"Oh David, I can't be the warm woman in your bed! What would the men think?"

"The men wouldn't have to know."

"The men would would know, and besides, I just told you that story. It wouldn't be fair. I would always be thinking of Seanie, and you would be fooling yourself." know, and besides, I just told you that story. It wouldn't be fair. I would always be thinking of Seanie, and you would be fooling yourself."

"Who's fooling herself? You'd rather have an imaginary man than a real one? You should just face the facts, woman, and move on! This fellow. He's not here, is he?"

They worked to stand up and steady themselves.

"This is your only chance, sir, to have me," David slurred. "I'll never mention it again."

"See? You call me sir! What type of love affair would we have?" Emer giggled.

"No more impossible than your Irish boy coming to find you. You should forget him anyway, whether or not you choose to accept my offer. For your own good."

He made his way down the plank to the dock and walked in the direction of loud drunken sailors, leaving his last words echoing in Emer's ears.

Two months later, the Emerald Emerald docked in Campeche. She sent David to the s.h.i.+pwright to arrange repairs to the hull and a full careening, and gave strict orders to her crew to stay quiet and act like modest sailors-an order they had no trouble obeying once the whole lot of them became ill from a feast of bad sh.e.l.lfish. Most of the week was spent vomiting rather than drinking. docked in Campeche. She sent David to the s.h.i.+pwright to arrange repairs to the hull and a full careening, and gave strict orders to her crew to stay quiet and act like modest sailors-an order they had no trouble obeying once the whole lot of them became ill from a feast of bad sh.e.l.lfish. Most of the week was spent vomiting rather than drinking.

Emer found a small room in a tavern where she could watch Campeche's dock. The three recruits had been right. The town was busy each day with s.h.i.+ps loading and unloading precious cargo collected from tribes of the new world beyond the Main. As she sat in a plush chair by her window, embroidering, she observed Campeche's people. African slaves were abundant, their white eyes and bare pink feet a contrast to the wealthy men in buckled shoes. These rich men lived in numbers here, larger numbers than Emer had ever seen.

Twice she watched as the governor of the town, a man of many rings and medals, came to the dock to inspect crates of pearls, gems, and gold. Something changed when she fixed her eyes on her first large sapphire. It was the size of a small apple and sparkled like nothing she'd ever seen before, making her squint through the lens of her scope. As she watched the governor cup it in his soft Spanish hands and imagined stealing it from him, she asked herself, "Why waste any more time coveting a long-lost Seanie Carroll when I could actually have have things like this? If I have no option to be happy and good, then why not be as bad as I can be?" things like this? If I have no option to be happy and good, then why not be as bad as I can be?"

When the s.h.i.+p was repaired, supplies were loaded and the crew was summoned from the small village. The Emerald Emerald set sail for Havana. They anch.o.r.ed about a hundred miles southwest and waited to rob s.h.i.+ps traveling from the Spanish Main-which is exactly what she did for the next year. set sail for Havana. They anch.o.r.ed about a hundred miles southwest and waited to rob s.h.i.+ps traveling from the Spanish Main-which is exactly what she did for the next year.

A s.h.i.+p came every week, sometimes twice a week, toward Havana, the last stop before the long journey back to Europe. The s.h.i.+ps were usually loaded with luxury items intended for King Philip, which Emer and her crew would pillage after a b.l.o.o.d.y battle. Deciding that reputation was paramount if she was eventually to become a feared and famous pirate, Emer began a quest to find her trademark. Some pirates etched their initials into the backs of victims, some liberated ears and tongues. Some disemboweled or hung or keelhauled, and she'd heard of a man who would feed his victims parts of their own sinew and flesh. Emer tried a few of these things, and eventually found that she enjoyed ripping an eye from the men she killed. Especially the men who'd glared at her body. It was a way to remind them to never underestimate a woman, she figured. One less eye to ogle with.

Over that year, they plundered nearly sixty s.h.i.+ps and returned to port only when they needed supplies or crew. In the Caymans, she traded the Emerald Emerald for a 150-ton frigate christened the for a 150-ton frigate christened the Vera Cruz Vera Cruz. Twice they visited Port Royal and sampled its famous rum and wickedness. They were safest in Tortuga, though, where they cashed their booty in what had become a bustling, well-stocked pirate haven. Emer hated being there. It reminded her of Paris, her useless coins, and her worthless virginity. But after a year of ripping eyeb.a.l.l.s out of Spanish officers, it was best to stay secure.

The captain's quarters on the Vera Cruz Vera Cruz were s.p.a.cious. Emer had room to twirl around in her capes, to practice her jousting, and to find new s.e.xual positions with David-who, after their last year at sea, had convinced Emer that this was the most obvious solution to their problems. Emer figured it was either that or embroidery, and st.i.tching could be tedious at times. were s.p.a.cious. Emer had room to twirl around in her capes, to practice her jousting, and to find new s.e.xual positions with David-who, after their last year at sea, had convinced Emer that this was the most obvious solution to their problems. Emer figured it was either that or embroidery, and st.i.tching could be tedious at times.

"You understand, David, that I cannot love you?" she asked.

"It's not love either of us is after, I reckon," he answered.

"I just want you warned, is all."

"Consider me warned," he said, though he'd been lying. How could he not love her? She was the most amazing woman he'd ever met, even if she was ten years his junior, as young as his youngest sister back home in Wales.

In that year at sea, plundering s.h.i.+ps southwest of Havana, Emer made seven capes. Her first two were dedicated to her mother. They had Celtic crosses, two feet high, in green and red thread. Each cross was a maze of tiny, decorative knots, hundreds of thousands of them. But they were mere practice pieces, reminders of the days when a thin-haired five-year-old demanded things she couldn't have.

As Emer st.i.tched these pieces, she practiced the art of sea battle. Never too much double shot, or you'd sink the whole lot to the bottom. She taught her marines new strategies and shared her memories of Oliver's Roundheads to show how fast, loud action can stop the bravest of men in their tracks. As she sewed, she prepared for future misfortune by slipping gems into the lower hems. In her first cape, with the green cross, she included several tiny pearls from her very first take. In the second, she sewed her first cut stones, a dozen pink rubies.

Her next cape was Spanish colored-red, orange, peach, and lemon-with an image of a crimson dragon breathing fire. It didn't disturb her anymore, the sight of a dragon. They surrounded her on this hunting ground-Spanish dragons in each direction and her own, tied in knots, in the belly of her memory. She added opals and emeralds in the hems, sewing each jewel in place with a pair of minute red st.i.tches.

Her fourth cape was an experiment: bright blue wildflowers intertwined with lightning bolts and skeletons, each bone a hundred st.i.tches at least. She made this one as a penance. Sure, these were Spanish b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who'd just killed, raped, and enslaved natives to pilfer their gold, but they were flesh and blood, too. No amount of praying would cleanse the s.h.i.+pful of sins she carried. To further clear her conscience, she didn't sew any booty into this cape, because it seemed insincere.

Her fifth and sixth capes were quite like the third: Spanish colors and fire-breathing beasts. But instead of confining the embroidered image to the back of the cape, Emer tried something new. She st.i.tched right round the garment with licks of fire, covering three quarters of the wool with tiny specks of flashy thread and finis.h.i.+ng the edges with blood-red knot work. She added extra knots after battles, one for each man she killed. These capes were longer than the others, extending past the knee with a mix of ta.s.sel work and fancy pleated edging. Emer had a difficult time choosing what to hide in them. Her treasure chests in the captain's quarters were stuffed. She finally decided on diamonds. And since she was growing more paranoid, she decided also to sew the precious gems into each seam along the main body of the garment as well as into the hems. This made these capes not only the most beautiful, but also the most valuable.

Emer took a break from st.i.tching during the late summer of 1662, and began work on her seventh cape as autumn approached with its hard storms and lethal winds. This was another long cape, falling just below the knee. The evil design had come to her after a b.l.o.o.d.y sunset battle with a Spanish privateer. The top of the cape would resemble a sky at sunset, the rays jutting from a large red fireball. The bottom would picture a thousand dead men, legs and boots in the air. Tiny legs and boots specked with red st.i.tches, protruding swords, and detached heads and eyeb.a.l.l.s. Thousands of eyeb.a.l.l.s. Another dragon breathing fire, white-hot specks of breath overpowering the sunrays, red drips of blood down its jaws.

She had scored a small sack full of blackberry-sized sapphires from her last plunder. She sewed these, along with the rest of her stash of diamonds, into every cranny of the cape's soft black lining.

Emer wore her frightful cape everywhere she went. By this time, she and her crew had become infamous. Just the sight of the Vera Cruz Vera Cruz forced large vessels to surrender or tack quickly in the opposite direction, which ensured a chase. And yet no one seemed to be searching for them, the way other famous pirates were hounded and hunted by patrol boats and privateers. Emer became c.o.c.ky, viewing the enemy as one big stupid man-unable to see her at all because she was a woman. forced large vessels to surrender or tack quickly in the opposite direction, which ensured a chase. And yet no one seemed to be searching for them, the way other famous pirates were hounded and hunted by patrol boats and privateers. Emer became c.o.c.ky, viewing the enemy as one big stupid man-unable to see her at all because she was a woman.

Twice, when a large Spanish fleet had pa.s.sed them on its way to Havana, they disguised the Vera Cruz Vera Cruz as an English patrol frigate. Emer called her officers to the deck and put on her best pirate voice. as an English patrol frigate. Emer called her officers to the deck and put on her best pirate voice.

"What does a pinnace offer us now, me lads? What fun be sacking surrendered s.h.i.+ps? Is this not our sea? Our turf? our sea? Our turf? Let us soon capture that fleet, says I! Let us finally get what we come for!" Let us soon capture that fleet, says I! Let us finally get what we come for!"

The prosperity of the past year, and the ease of each battle the Vera Cruz Vera Cruz fought, had made her lazy. She forgot about once being poor and hungry, and forgot about her lifetime of running-as if each jewel she robbed erased a same-sized portion of her memory. She stopped joining David in daily officers' ch.o.r.es and instead spent most of her time sleeping. Which was exactly how the Frenchman would find her, two weeks later. fought, had made her lazy. She forgot about once being poor and hungry, and forgot about her lifetime of running-as if each jewel she robbed erased a same-sized portion of her memory. She stopped joining David in daily officers' ch.o.r.es and instead spent most of her time sleeping. Which was exactly how the Frenchman would find her, two weeks later.

After Winston revved up the old pickup truck and sped off to the airport, Fred Livingstone was alone again. He preferred it that way. Once accustomed to gala b.a.l.l.s and posh parties, Fred could now barely make a trip to the bank in Black River without panicking.

He rose late the next morning-after eleven-still thinking about his perfect bikini girl. His head played tricks on him. In the shower, under the slow trickle the local water supply allowed, he closed his eyes and tried to see her, but saw other things instead. He saw Winston in a coral-colored thong, then naked on a coral-colored bedspread. He opened his eyes and shook the image out of his head and tried again. This time it was Mother in a coral bikini, sitting on his bed crying. So Fred just opened his eyes and hummed until he was dried, dressed, and ready for the bank. He fetched the folders he needed from the safe and went to his office window.

He heard Rusty wincing somewhere downstairs, but ignored him. He spun his chair to face away from the million-dollar view and closed his eyes again.

"Join me for lunch today," he started.

She smiled at him, then morphed into his mother. He opened his eyes, shook his head, then closed them again.

"How about one o'clock? The Island Hotel?"

But you have to go to Black River, Fred. You have to get to the bank.

Fred waved off the idea with his hand. "I can go to the bank tomorrow."

You've put it off long enough, don't you think? his mother said. his mother said.