Search for the Holy Grail - Volume 2: No Quarter: Search for the Holy Grail, #2

By MJL Evans and GM O'Connor

In a world of fight or flight where can one find sanctuary? Search for the Holy Grail.

 

Volume 2 of 3
Pirates plot in Tortuga, while Commodore Valentine hunts down the pirate Cadwallader Jones. The Holy Grail comes under attack and the countess Aurora falls into the hands of Lieutenant William Kidd. While Helena's dream of a new life in Full Moon Bay is shattered.

Series Description
Every pirate in the Caribbean is searching for The Holy Grail—a ship carrying the treasury of Hanover and the countess Aurora of Calenberg, suspected of orchestrating the theft. Prinz Maximilian will stop at nothing to catch her and regain the fortune, even if it means following her into the deepest, darkest recesses of Samaná Bay. With pirates and cutthroats at every turn, will she be reunited with her handmaiden, Helena and her portrait painter, Dodo? Aurora's only solace is in a bottle of Cognac with a chaser of coca-leaf powder in this vibrant, fast-paced chase through the Caribbean.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Megan JL Evans
• Release date: Aug 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781988616162

MJL Evans

MJL Evans is an Indie Author/Publisher and co-author of the 6-part series, No Quarter: Dominium. Future endeavours include co-authoring the books No Quarter: WENCH and No Quarter: The Dirge. She also hopes to have her books translated in various languages including French.MJL Evans is also a writer of romance and relationship articles featured in publications like Monday Magazine in November 2004 and again in February 2006, she writes fiction, historical fiction, erotica and humour. Published in the November 2014 issue of Flash Fiction Magazine, Red Dragon is vibrant piece of micro-fiction that delves into Victoria BC in the 1860s, when it was the opium capital of the New World.A native of Victoria, British Columbia, MJL Evans studied English at Victoria School of Writing and Camosun College. Not only is she passionate about her written expression, she is enthusiastic about her visual art masterpieces she has created over the past 20 years and has over 60 paintings to her credit. MJL Evans is also a lover of film, independent, foreign, and cult. Her favorites include: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Nymphomaniac, Secret Window, The Brood, Le Pacte des loups, Mesrine: L'Instinct De Mort and many others.

Book preview

Search for the Holy Grail

Volume 2

By MJL Evans and GM O’Connor

Search for the Holy Grail (No Quarter Series)

COPYRIGHT @ 2021

Megan JL Evans and GM O’Connor

ISBN: 978-1-988616-16-2

Artwork: GM O’Connor and Megan JL Evans

Book Production and Editor: Megan JL Evans

All rights are reserved to the authors. No part of this ebook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

NO QUARTER SERIES COPYRIGHT @ 2014

Author Bios

MJL EVANS wanted to be a writer since she was ten years old and in 2014 she finally got her act together and pursued her dream. She is the co-author of No Quarter: Dominium, No Quarter: Wenches, and Search for the Holy Grail. A huge fan of Monty Python, Red Dwarf, and other BBC shows, her time is devoted to acrylic painting, photography, catering to her senior cat and of course, writing.

You can connect with MJL Evans on Instagram at @mjlevans or [e-mail]

GM O’CONNOR is a visual artist, illustrator and writer who dabbles in guitars, acting, and sometimes wildlife rescue. A movie encyclopedia, he’s a fan of sci-fi and history. He is the co-author of No Quarter: Dominium, No Quarter: Wenches, and Search for the Holy Grail. He hopes to one day bring the No Quarter Series to film and/or graphic novel format.

You can connect with GM O’Connor on Twitter at @gm_oconnor or [e-mail]

CHAPTER ONE

The Elixir of Life

RAIN PELTED A man carrying a flag up a grassy hill. The wind nearly blew him over as he clawed his way up the dilapidated stonework of a crumbling castle, Fort Roche. The whole island could be seen from the tower, including the coast of Hispaniola to the Cayenne Harbor. At the top of the tower flew a tattered French flag, beaten by the elements. The man took down the current flag and replaced it with a Spanish one.

Atia la Roche sat on a stool behind the counter of the tavern and poured herself a shot of whiskey. She stared at it for a moment, then decided it would save time to just drink straight out of the bottle. Two deceased men decayed next to the front door. No one could be bothered to take them outside during the storm.

Atia’s husband, Jean-Paul la Roche, or simply the Capitaine, glanced at a handful of cards while the four unconscious men he played with snored heavily. Things were quiet in Tortuga inside the Élixir de vie.

The broad-billed parrot, Minuit, squawked.

No, no, you are wrong! la Roche slurred.

No, no, you are wrong, Minuit replied.

You don’t know what you’re talking about, la Roche continued.

You don’t know what you’re talking about, Minuit said.

La Roche pointed. "No, you don’t know what you’re talking about."

Minuit flapped his wings. "No, you don’t know what you’re talking about."

Who’s winning? Atia asked between mouthfuls of whiskey.

We’ll settle this another time, uh? la Roche said.

Another time, Minuit replied.

A peasant burst through the door, stumbling and out of breath. The Spanish have taken Tortuga!

La Roche cursed in French, throwing down his cards. He led those who remained conscious outside.

Drunken peasants and buccaneers staggered up the hill into the ruins of the fort walls to the dilapidated tower. They climbed to the top, where a Spanish flag fluttered. La Roche cut it down and ripped it up. Fuck you, uh!

La Roche and the crowd returned to the tavern.

"Not exactly Sérénité, my love," Atia said.

Really. He pointed to a freshly painted sign above the door that read: Sérénité.

Wishful drinking, said Atia.

La Roche kissed her lips, his breath thick with rum. "This is where they look last for us. We would be followed to Sérénité."

They went back inside. Atia went to the bar for another drink, while a semi-conscious Dashiell Dupris, ‘de Kreep,’ stirred and tried to light his pipe.

Get me one, too, la Roche said. Besides, this is where Laurens will pay you the bounty for Slasher Al. You want to get paid, don’t you?

Did I miss something? asked de Kreep.

The Spanish took Tortuga, Atia said.

Again? De Kreep ran his fingers through his dark, curly hair before trying to light his pipe again.

La Roche helped and they got it lit. They laughed, as if achieving greatness.

Liberated once again, la Roche said.

Hell of a battle. Atia returned with drinks. Too bad ya missed it.

I am no good for you, la Roche said.

Neither’s whiskey. But tonight, I shall endure. She downed a shot. But not with this treacle rum of yours. There must be more whiskey somewhere. And where’s Miles? Atia glanced around.

Upstairs at the inn, said de Kreep. He won’t come down.

Been here before, has he?

A pirate with a scar across his whole face sat with his four mates, inspecting Atia. Zoe, the barmaid, served them, getting groped and prodded in the process.

Oh, they look friendly, Atia spoke dryly. Who are they?

Pirates. La Roche drank more rum.

Nooo, she exaggerated. Not in Tortuga.

Reed. La Roche indicated. The one with the happy smile. I don’t know the other one. Hired by Laurens de Graaf.

Hired? Did they bring my bounty? asked Atia.

La Roche shook his head. He rapes women.

Atia’s eyes widened. Which one?

All of them, de Kreep said.

John Coxon arrived, grimy, unshaven, wearing a weathered leather vest.

Atia took a drink, unimpressed. She was about to leave when Reed tried to molest her. Instinctively, she slapped him. Reed went for his sword. La Roche knocked Atia out of the way, while Coxon and de Kreep drew their blades.

Atia shook herself and drew her stilettos.

Coxon parried Reed’s blade.

Drunkards stumbled and laughed.

Apologize to the lady. We’re under parley, Coxon said.

Apologize to a bloody strumpet? Reed spat.

She’s no common strumpet. She’s the wench who killed Slasher Al.

That’s right. And yer friend touches me again, he can join him, said Atia.

We was never properly introduced. John Coxon, miss. I knew yer father. Too bad the Capitaine here got to ya first. Don’t mind us, dear, you go on.

Don’t mind a bit. Atia departed.

Reed grinned at her.

As the door closed, arguing commenced.

Where was I? Where were you? were the last words she heard from la Roche.

Atia headed outside into the rain and trekked up an exterior staircase to the second floor. She ventured down a short hallway and knocked gently on the door at the end.

Gladstone opened the door quickly and pulled her inside. After fixing a chair beneath the doorknob, he collapsed on the bed.

Are you all right? Atia squeezed the water from her hair.

Those are the worst of the worst out there, Gladstone said.

So I heard. Are you hiding from anyone in particular?

Hiding? Who’s hiding? Gladstone puffed out his cheeks.

You’re doing well. She checked a bottle of Strangewayes Calming Formula on the counter.

I took it all.

She picked it up. It says three to four drops, maximum.

Gladstone massaged his face. We’ve got to get out of here.

I know. Atia went over to the window. Pirate ships were still arriving in the harbor. Longboats brought ominous figues ashore who then made their way up the road. I’ll send Zoe up with some food. She likes you, yer the only one who’s ever thanked her without a catch.

"I just want to go home to Sérénité."

Me too, Atia said. When Laurens de Graaf gets here, I’ll get the bounty for Slasher Al. That’ll be more than enough to pay for passage.

Passage where? Gladstone said nervously.

She checked the window again. Pirates converged below, their guns and cutlasses shimmered in the rain under their large hats. Anywhere but here, Miles.

Laurens de Graaf slid on a raincoat and secured a hat before venturing to the quarterdeck of Cometa. He checked his pocket for a pouch of Strangewayes Brand Love Barriers, this was Tortuga afterall. The navigator, Nigel, fought to turn the tiller against the wind and rain.

Ten degrees to port. Laurens scanned the Cayenne Harbor with his telescope. "Keep your eyes out for Toro."

A huge wave battered the sails, and they all grabbed the lifelines.

Laurens indicated a ship in port. "There’s La Lune. Dead ahead. At least he’s here on time, for once."

Maybe he brought this redhead everyone’s been on about. Nigel smirked.

She’s due to collect for Slasher Al. I for one would like to shake her hand and buy her a drink. And if she’s as pretty as they say, I’ll shake her backside too. Laurens shifted focus to the other ships. There was Hornet, with black and white stripes, and Dragonfly in green with swirling patterns. Ready to land.

Cometa and her escorts rowed in and anchored.

Laurens’s biographer and friend, Ravenau de Lussan, swung over from Dragonfly.

You took long enough, Laurens said to Ravenau.

You were too fast for me, Sieur. I lost you off Jamaica.

No, you lost Yaguara off Jamaica. I had time to circle Cayman Brac Island, twice, Laurens said.

What’s that? Nigel looked overhead. Bird coming in.

That’s the Capitaine’s bird, Minuit. Laurens took out a whistle and blew.

A large, iridescent black parrot landed on a rail. Minuit exchanged greetings with Laurens’s parrot, Henry V.

Laurens checked Minuit’s leg bracelet to find a roll of parchment there. He read: "The capture of Port Royal did not go well. So, I bite you? What’s he mean by that? Surely, he means bite me."

Minuit bit Laurens’s hand before flying away.

Ravenau aimed his pistol. It attacked you.

Don’t shoot the messenger, said Laurens. Besides, he’s on account.

Minuit defecated on the deck before heading to the tavern.

Now, that is personal, Laurens said.

Cometa landed at the Cayenne dock.

Laurens secured his raincoat. "Secure the fort and meet me at the Élixir de vie in thirty."

Oui, Sieur, Ravenau replied.

This shitty rain is ruining my hair anyway, Laurens said.

Atia stood by the open window, staring out at the harbor. The air was muggy, charged with rain and thick black clouds. More ships and pirates arrived. A black figure swooped in, landing on the windowsill. "Bonjour, Mademoiselle."

Atia’s heart leapt. Bloody hell, bird! She patted his damp head. Come on in.

He flew over to the bed and roosted next to Gladstone, who was in and out of consciousness. She fed Minuit some cashews and checked the window again. A group trod along the path to the tavern, led by a man in a raincoat. A large medallion the size of a shackle hung from his neck. Is that Laurens?

Gladstone rose to peer out. Laurens de Graaf himself. Voted most popular pirate ten years running.

She closed the window and made damn sure her stilettos were ready. I think he owes me money.

The Capitaine said we’re going to keep it in his chest, Gladstone said.

We are, are we? Atia’s mouth slacked.

Aye, he said he’s gonna hold it for you.

He can hold his own; no way is he taking mine. You gonna be okay?

Gladstone groaned. Absolutely. I’ve gone straight to the blinding headache part. Minuit will nurse me back to health. You be careful.

I will. She descended the stairs. Raucous laughter and the singing of drunken pirates came from the tavern. She paused, peering around the corner. Atia’s hands fixed around her stilettos.

We got unfinished business, wench! Reed accosted her again.

She plunged the weapons into his throat and yanked them out without so much as flinching. The pirate dropped to the ground, dying.

A pair of eyes were upon her. Laurens de Graaf lowered his blunderbuss and pushed his wet blond locks out of his eyes. He winked. "Hey doll, wanna take a ride on my Cometa? He looked down at her handiwork. Looks like he had it coming."

He did that. One of your men?

Not anymore. But, like I said, looks like he had it coming. You must be Atia.

You must be Laurens de Graaf. She wiped her stilettos on her dress and put them back in her holster.

Sorry about the dress. I’ve got some nice ones on board that might suit you. I came to square up with your Capitaine.

He’s in the tavern with John Coxon, catching up. It’s me yer supposed to be squaring up with. She unrolled a piece of skin with a rose tattoo.

Slasher Al, huh? You’ll have to tell me all about it. I have your bounty on my ship. He opened the door, and they entered the tavern.

La Roche and de Kreep were playing cards with Coxon.

There he is. Seems fine to me, Atia remarked. Now, about me bounty.

Laurens winked at her. You are a bounty.

La Roche, having just won a hand, exclaimed, Ah, better than sex!

Atia rolled her eyes. He’s going to be a while. How about I ride on your comet while we wait?

Your bounty awaits, doll, this way. He removed his raincoat and draped it over her. They took the footpath down to the ship. Cometa’s white lines blended with the churning waves. At Laurens’s approach, men rushed to their stations.

She’s pretty, said Atia.

She’s a Spanish guardacosta schooner, built in Biscay, Laurens boasted. She arrived in 1680, named after the great comet. She was new and sent here to hunt pirates. I took her a week after she arrived. So pretty I didn’t even change the name. Pretty as the comet was, and so are you.

They boarded.

Sail the ship around the island a few times, Nigel.

Oui, Sieur.

Atia was guided to the captain’s cabin. Her mouth hung open at the sight of polished mahogany walls, a canopied bed,