Freedom's Horizon (WLW)

Part One: Chapter Eight

November 1674, The Caribbean Sea, Onboard the Midnight Scarlet, Below Deck

Aimee winced as Genny and Felipe led her to the crew's barracks with arms around her waist. They were nearly dragging her due to her legs feeling like dead weight, unable to contribute much to their progression. She gasped when Genny's hand grazed her back as she was set down on the floor next to a hammock.

Aimee glanced up and spotted Felipe whispering something to Genny in a language she couldn't understand. He looked at her, visibly full of foreboding doubt, and Genny nodded.

Something about Aimee's back felt...wrong, momentarily distracting her from their odd expressions and mumbled words. Yes, it ached like the dickens at the slightest graze, but once the doctor and Genny tended to the gashes after the first mate whispered something incoherent to the surgeon, the pain was gone. They felt as if they almost didn't exist unless they were touched.

Still, Aimee was weak and tired and wasn't in the mood for more whispered talks. She'd seen the captain, Genny, Margaret and Felipe doing this time and time again when she was near. Even heard one of the conversations where Genny tried to convince Esme not to let Aimee stay in her cabin. They were all so...strange. Nothing like the ruffians she expected.

Regardless, Aimee wanted answers to the many questions rambling around her mind and all the inaudible muttering to cease. She'd paid her dues, right? What more could they ask from her? Why were people so greedy and why were these pirates so secretive even before she betrayed them? She had to know what it was they weren't quite willing to say.

"Feel free to tell me you have no love for my life any longer. I can take it. I deserve it. But I have paid for it, so stop skirting the edge."

"That..." Felipe rubbed the back of his neck and peered around the room. Thumps could be heard overhead from the rest of the crew moving about and Genny edged closer to Aimee. Before she could speak, however, Felipe finally added, "You are...reckless. Obstinate. We are not typical pirates of these waters. We are sailors and you bring fright for Essie."

"I do not understand."

Genny squatted in front of Aimee and held out a jar of ointment. "You look like her. Taria. In the eyes, I mean."

Felipe put a hand on her shoulder. "Hush, Genny. You ain't even--"

"I know, but I was there, Felipe. I saw it all and I knew her long enough to at least remember her face, to remember her kindness and mourn her." She said toward him, then glanced back at Aimee. "Your eyes look so much like hers and that is most likely why Essie set her claim. At first."

Aimee couldn't ignore the somewhat irritated expression on Genny's face and thought about it for a little bit, uneasy under its icy temperament. It would be no surprise to discover Genny didn't like her, that much Aimee could easily tell after her time onboard Esme's ship, but it appeared as though she may hate her for other reasons aside from her latest deplorable antics. Something in Genny's gaze told Aimee not to challenge her, but she couldn't stop the words flowing forth.

"Who was she?"

Felipe sat down on a stack of crates and set down the lantern. "My sister." He looked up at Aimee. "We are not a pirate crew. Not in the strictest sense. We have only been marked as one 'cause we occasionally take on a naval ship or a merchant vessel for goods and money. But we don't do it very often. Our jobs, what we are hired for...is vengeance. That is where we make our mark on this world and the vast majority of our earnings. We do not only set out for our own revenge, but also to avenge those who hire us at port."

"I already partially knew that, but how can you do that if you are nothing more than a rumor?" Aimee probed.

"Do you see all the crewmates we have?" It finally struck her that Felipe's accent was a lot like Esme's, yet different in a strange way she hadn't heard before. Esme also held lilts and curves to her voice from somewhere far off that set them apart, while Felipe held quite a few of the same characteristics in his own, there was something else there that was all his. Something none of the other crewmates held and she found her curiosity peaked. "We have a reputation in certain areas and they keep it safe for our ventures. They keep it secret. The rumors are our way of keepin' cover from those who would come after us during our expedition. We are a business, so to speak."

"But...you attack crews and leave one alive to tell your story."

Genny stood and shook her head. "Those are the vessels we were sent to attack. We kill who we are meant to and let one or two go free on occasion to tell the story of the mysterious ghost ship of buccaneers. None of them have ever seen our faces and most do not actually know what our flag looks like. They do not know who we are and we are accredited to many attacks and other skirmishes because of our stealthy manner even though the majority of them have been done by other crews or never happened at all. We only attack when necessary and live for our days on the sea, where we belong. We do not attack for fortunes taken from others. However, when we raid the enemy's ships, we do enjoy in the plunder. We do need to eat and survive after all and what would be the point in wasting the product they have on board? Still, we love the hunt and battle more than anything else. If we happen to be rumored as bloodthirsty tyrants, sobeit. It only ever helps our cause."

Aimee tried to take in all that she'd been told. Could this really be the truth? If it is... She trailed off in her mind, before finishing aloud, "Why are you telling me this now?"

"You took your punishment like one of us. You were not afraid. You stood your ground. You may not have the captain's trust anymore, but you are gaining mine, and several of the crew's respect for that matter. We can see someone who shares a story like our own from leagues away." Genny stood and yanked Felipe to his feet, giving his shoulder a few gruff squeezes. Aimee knew without a doubt there was no way Genny trusted her. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought Genny was actually quite angry, rather than just irritated. Perhaps it would be best to ask Felipe her other questions when he was alone. Or at the very least, when Genny was not around. "Keep trying. You have a long way to go."

Aimee tried to stand, but buckled toward the floor with a whimper. When Felipe tried to help her to her feet, she tried to stop him, but Genny just walked to them grumbling again.

"Stop pretending you aren't weakened. You are not being punished anymore, therefore we no longer have the time to play around." She reprimanded Aimee as she gingerly lifted her from the ground and began ushering her back toward her new sleeping area. "You need to heal so we can teach you what we really do and how to handle yourself in a fight. There is no more carrying your weight, Aimee. You must adapt."

"Fine, but..." Aimee moved back and sat down in the hammock, surprised when her legs obeyed her and energized to ask just one more thing. There was a single burning question gnawing at her mind and she couldn't just let it go. "Neither of you ever explained the significance of Taria." They ignored her and moved toward the door. "Who was she really? To you all and..."

"To Essie?" Felipe turned around and sighed. Genny grabbed his arm and gave him a stern look, but he simply shook his head and looked back at Aimee. "My full name is Felipe Laguerre. My sister and I came from a small island also in the Caribbean, but I am from Haiti originally. Esme washed up on the island we were raised on some odd years back. We helped raise her. All of us. Our people were being hunted down and being turned into slaves.

"About six years later, there was an uprising. Many of the slaves died and those who weren't caught tried to make their escape. My father prepared a boat for us and protected us as we ran away... As we...ran away..." Felipe paused and took a visibly steadying breath. "We have no knowledge of how many died, but have heard rumors. It was just me, Taria and Essie. That is how this all began. You want to know more, earn it, but never put us with the likes of Vane or Francisco. Not that they weren't and ain't fierce and wondrously adventurous, but they are not the same as us and value nothing but their own existence. Do not compare us to those naval dogs or the colonists who took our homes either, for they only care about material gain. We are ghosts of our own creation and always will be."

He looked at the ointment Aimee clutched in her hands and furrowed his brow for a moment, then shook his head as if casting away some unfathomable thought.

Felipe turned back toward the hallway and Genny followed him calling over her shoulder, "You will soon find out more. But until then, learn. Be patient. Earn all that is given to you, Lucia."

Aimee startled at the odd name, knowing it was not her own, yet feeling a strange connection to it, staring after them for quite some time after they were gone.