Wild Waters Read Online Free PDF Page B

Grandmama a bit. “Oh, yes,” she said. “Pirate Lord of the whole Atlantic Ocean, me. I was present for the second meeting of the court, where Morgan and Bartholomew set out the Pirate Code. Youngest Pirate Lord ever, I was. And the prettiest.”
    “Until me,” Jack observed as he speared a chunk of beef onto his plate.
    Grandmama gave him a steely glare. “I am still prettier than you. And a much better pirate.”
    Jack waggled his fork at her. “Ah, but being that I am the one in possession of a ship and crew, and not only that but the finest and fastest ship in all the world, I think the question of superior piratical skills might be up for debate.”
    “So what were Morgan and Bartholomew like?” Diego said quickly, hoping to stave off that particular “debate,” especially since it seemed likely to involve Grandmama flinging tankards and possibly knives.
    “Oh, don’t get her started,” Jack moaned, but it was too late.
    “Bartholomew was everything a pirate should be,” Grandmama said wistfully. “Fierce, quick to anger, violent, conniving, the whole package. He used to stick burning brands in his long black beard when he fought, so it looked like his whole head was smoking. Scared the devil out of the cowards he attacked. He was as tall as a house with shoulders as wide as four trees and the thickest, blackest eyebrows the world has ever seen. I never saw him smile, not once. Now there was a real pirate.” She gave Jack a look that clearly said “unlike you .”
    “Morgan, on the other hand, was a pretty useless pirate,” she went on, loading her plate with yams. “Kept losing his charts or dropping his compass over the side by accident, that sort of thing. But he had a flair for words. He’s the one that gave the Code its character. And rumor had it that he used that brain of his for some pretty nasty plans here and there, at least until he settled down to be governor of Jamaica, the lazy sot. Ah, well. I’m the only one from that court who’s still alive.” She cackled. “Outlasted all the old goats, I did.”
    “Well, it helps that you’ve retired to a pirate utopia,” Jack pointed out. “There’s not too many folks here trying to poke you with sharp, pointy things, are there?”
    Quick as a flash, Grandmama seized her steak knife and hurled it at Jack’s head. He just managed to dodge out of the way, nearly falling out of his chair in the process.
    “Now, Grandmama,” Teague said calmly. “No violence until after the soup course, please.”
    She scowled at Jack. “I’m still planning to go out fighting, with a sword in my hand. See if I don’t!” she snapped.
    “I would much rather not be there to see that,” Jack said sincerely. “Since I imagine I’ll be the one you’re trying to stick with it.”
    “You better believe it,” Grandmama grumbled, stabbing her peas viciously.
    “I want to know everything,” Carolina said, her eyes shining. “What was your ship called? Where did you sail? Did you—”
    But Carolina’s questions were not to be answered—for at that very moment, the sound of shattering glass suddenly filled the room. Figures in dark clothes crashed through the windows, brandishing long swords and deadly looking cutlasses. Jack only caught a glimpse of malevolent eyes bearing down on him before the wind from outside swept through the room, blowing out the candles and lamps.
    They were under attack—and they were fighting in pitch darkness!

C HAPTER F IVE
    I n one fluid movement, Jack drew his sword with one hand and seized his chair with the other, whipping it around in front of him like a shield. He heard a loud OOF ! as someone stumbled into one of the chair legs. He shoved the chair into the person’s chest, and whirled his sword around—but stopped short. What if he was slashing at the wrong person? What if he accidentally stabbed Barbossa or Diego instead of one of their attackers?
    Eh, no big loss, he thought.
    He stood still for a moment,