Crossing Oceans | ✓

ᖴOᑌᖇ | TᕼE ᑕᗩTᗩᔕTᖇOᑭᕼE

Even though she could not see him, he bowed low, and then turned, walking away.

Her tears still glistened in her eyes and she thought bitterly, It would be so much easier if you weren't so kind!

It was after sunset of the following day when they pulled into Tortuga. Amber sat on the Carson's bed, her knees pulled to her chest and her face buried in them. The cabin door opened to reveal Carson. His eyes held regret as he saw her sorrowful state. Tear tracks lined her face as she glanced up, and he saw that she was trembling, but she straightened her spine and wiped her tears away.

She stood as soon as he took a step towards her. Her feet were planted on the floor firmly, her body was rigid, and her defiant eyes held unshed tears of anger. "We are going ashore," Carson informed, his voice gentle but still rough. He turned to leave, and she followed him without a word.

Once off the boat, the sight that met her eyes was appalling. Men and women alike hung half-way out of windows shouting loudly; and prostitutes lurked in the shadows, beckoning to those that passed them by. Barrels of rum littered every inch of ground where pirates flocked around campfires to gamble and drink to their heart's content. Gun shots echoed threateningly through the air as she glanced around nervously.

Carson strode with confidence through the crowd and led her inside of a tavern. It was loud, if not louder than the racket of the streets. It was overcrowded. Brawls broke out at least every five minutes, and scantily clad women hung onto men, holding brimming mugs of rum. He pushed his way to the very back where he sat down at a table in the shadows followed by Cod. But Amber remained standing, her eyes dangerously bright and her features displaying un-vented anger. "Have a seat." Cod urged. "You can't stand there all night!" He slapped the table as he bellowed with laughter. Carson silenced Cod with a disapproving glance, but Amber still did not oblige.

He suddenly stood up from his seat, politely walking to where she was standing, and took her arm. "You will stay by my side, if you are wise. It wouldn't be, what we call, safe to wander off."

She managed a mocking smile before she said, scoffing, "I can take care of myself, thank you. Now release my arm before I am forced to harm you."

Frustrated by her rudeness and ungrateful behavior, he threw her arm down and turned away. Suddenly he whirled on her, his eyes intense. "You do as you wish." Then he pointed at himself. "I am not responsible for you."

Amber turned on her heel and stomped off angrily. At one of the tables she found a man that was one of the crew. He motioned for her to sit with him, and she consented. "William," she acknowledged him with a curt nod as she sat.

"Amber," he replied. His breath was foul and smelled of alcohol.

She sighed in a half frustrated and half nervous sort of way, as he set a mug full of rum before her. "Here, drink this," he ordered. "It will clear your head and calm your nerves."

Warily she picked up the mug and sniffed it. The beverage was foul and pungent, but not wanting to appear weak, she took a swallow. She couldn't help the grimace that formed upon her face, but after about the third sip she felt calmer, and she had acclimated to the taste.

When he saw that she had relaxed, he casually inquired, "Has my cousin been behaving himself?"

"Your cousin?"

"Yeah, Carson."

"The Captain? I had no idea you were related." She sipped at her drink, and the room began to sway dangerously.

"Most people don't know." He casually stroked his jaw as he eyed her. The beverage was beginning its affect on her, and William smiled, amused by her expression.