Ill Wind and Dead Reckoning: Caribbean Pirate Adventure (Valkyrie) (2 page)

I looked at
the whip in my hand. It was heavy; heavy enough for the foot-long handle to have been forged from solid silver. It was decorated with images of horses, but this was no horsewhip. It had three leather lashes, each about three feet long and knotted at the ends. The last few inches were darker than the rest, and I realized they were stained with blood. I threw it on to the table and looked back at Klara. Her eyes darted to the floor. She’d been studying me as I’d studied the whip. I stepped closer to her and tried again, ‘Hello Klara, I’m Gabriella.’

She raised her eyes to mine, but said nothing, and I stepped back again under the force of her glare.

‘Um, could you help me unpack, please?’

Again she said nothing, but turned to my chest and started pulling out the few gowns I possessed.

*

I lay awake
on the small cot whilst Klara lay on a mat on the floor. I couldn’t possibly sleep. On the one hand, I
was
sailing away from Father,
and
his stinking harbour, but I was also leaving Mam and Peter behind and had no idea what I was sailing towards – my future was blank in my mind. I wondered if I’d ever see Mam again. I missed her already, missed Peter, and missed having a friendly face smiling at me. I was terrified of the woman who lay on the floor, knowing she hated me.

I turned on to my side to study her in the gloom. I couldn’t see her well but pictured her slim yet full body; wild black curls escaping from her headscarf; full mouth and nose. I’d heard about the dark-skinned people from Africa, but had never seen one before today. The way people talked, I’d thought they were ugly and dull-witted, little more than beasts, but this woman was beautiful. Intelligence shone out of her eyes in the way she glanced at me, full of appraisal and cunning when she thought I wasn’t looking. I caught a flicker of movement as those eyes opened and I rolled over; for some reason ashamed to have been caught watching her. I vowed never to underestimate her.

I was startled by a knock at the door.

‘Just a moment,’ I called, flustered.
Who could be asking for entry to my cabin at this time of night?

Klara rose and lit a lantern, and I pulled on my robe. She waited for my nod, then unlocked and opened the door. A young sailor stood there, probably in his early twenties – maybe a couple of years older than Klara. He was very handsome – or would have been had he been cleaner. I could smell him from across the cabin.

‘I beg your pardon, Mistress Berryngton,’ he said with a French accent. ‘I am Cheval,
Freyja’s
quartermaster. The captain sends his apologies, but he would like to see your slave in his cabin.’

‘Very well,’ I said, confused.
What does the captain want with Klara?
But it was none of my business.

Klara shot a hate-filled glare at me, then followed the sailor out of my cabin to the one next door. I sat back on the cot in relief once the door had closed behind them, glad to finally have a bit of time to myself. I realized I couldn’t remember my selected husband’s name, and tears began to roll once again. ‘Oh Mam,’ I whispered to the empty room. ‘What’s going to happen to me?’

*

My sobs quietened
,
and I realized I could hear more cries. It must be Klara – as far as I knew, we were the only women aboard the ship. A man cried out as well, though in pleasure, and I finally understood why Klara had been summoned. And I had given my consent. I raised my hands to my mouth in shock; no wonder she hated me. Now I’d proved myself deserving of her contempt.

I covered my ears as the screams and grunts rose in volume and my sobs restarted. I wasn’t sure whether I cried for Klara or myself. Presumably Mr van Ecken condoned this.
What will my life be like as his daughter-in-law?

*

I didn’t sleep that night, and lay alone in the dark until dawn slowly lightened the cabin. The door opened and Klara entered.

‘Are you all right?’ I asked.

She nodded, but didn’t speak and limped to her sleeping mat.

‘Your eye!’ I exclaimed. It was bruised and half-closed. She gave me her hate look again, but now I didn’t blame her. She lay down and curled into a ball with her back to me.

‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered. ‘I didn’t know.’ Nothing. Once again, no reaction. I stared at the ceiling.
Will my husband do that to me?

I was thrown against the cabin wall hard enough to wake me, and lay on the cot for a few moments trying to work out where I was and what was happening.

Oh yes: aboard a ship; sold into marriage to a stranger; shut inside a cabin with a woman who hates me.

Everything moved far more than it had yesterday and the ship was rocking violently from side to side, which is what had woken me so rudely. There was more noise, too: the sea as we crashed through it; thumping from overhead; as well as the creaking of wood and cracking of sail. I was thrown against the wall again and grabbed the edge of the cot, then looked up.
Where’s Klara?

I pulled myself to sit on the edge of the bed. She wasn’t in the cabin. Fresh salty wind, a relief after the stinking air of the harbour, blew my curls over my face and I realized the door to the ledge outside was open and Klara was leaning over the rail. I jumped up and staggered towards her, bracing my hands against the ceiling to stop myself falling.

I reached the balcony door and clung to the frame. The sea had changed from a beautiful calm blue to a forbidding dark grey, and I shivered.

‘Klara!’ I called.

She looked up at me, then leaned over the rail again and retched. I sighed in relief; she was seasick, not trying to jump, although I didn’t understand why she was ill now. The fresh air had quietened my own stomach.

‘Are you well? Can I help you?’

She shook her head. ‘Leave me,’ she said.

I hesitated. They were the first words she’d spoken to me, but I didn’t want to leave her alone in such misery.

She retched again. ‘Leave me!’ she repeated, more insistently.

I went back into the cabin. She’d been humiliated enough in the day I’d known her: once when van Ecken had given me the whip, and again by Captain Hornigold. I would not humiliate her further.

I crossed to the jug and bowl on the table and poured out a small amount of water to wash myself. I noticed the table had a wooden rim built into it to prevent the china falling, but I’d poured out too much and water sloshed everywhere. I washed my face as best I could considering I needed one hand to hold on, then turned to find something to wear.

Klara had laid out an emerald-green gown, which went well with my dark hair and pale complexion. I stripped my nightgown off and pulled a clean shift over my head. It wasn’t easy with one hand and a moving floor. I picked up my stays and looked in the glass, wondering how I would tie them, when they were taken from me.

Klara wrapped the garment around my middle and I adjusted it so the wooden supports were as close to comfortable as possible. She pulled on the strings and I gasped in pain. She loosened them slightly and I thanked her; she nodded. Progress. We finished my dressing in silence and I sat down. I noticed the whip had gone from the table and didn’t care – I hoped she’d thrown it overboard.

A loud explosion startled both of us, and we looked at each other in horror. We could see nothing but sea behind, were we being attacked?

‘I’m going to find out what’s happening,’ I said to her with a bravery I didn’t feel.

‘No!’ She bowed her head, then added, quieter. ‘You’d be better off staying here, out of their way.’

‘I need to know what’s happening, and if Mr van Ecken or the crew don’t have the courtesy to inform us, I’ll have to go and ask them.’ I couldn’t stay blind in the cabin; I had to know.

I stumbled to the door, unlocked it, and went out. What had yesterday been a dark, quiet deck was now filled with light and men. Holes in the side had been opened, and I now saw the deck was full of guns; each with its muzzle pointing out through one of the gunports. I didn’t like this, but I couldn’t slink back to the cabin and Klara after my show of bravado.

There were posts at intervals supporting the ceiling, and I made my way from one to the next; managing not to fall until I reached the ladder van Ecken had led me down yesterday. I climbed up, kicking my petticoats out of the way to find every foothold.

Up on deck, wind whipped at my face and body, and I stumbled to the empty rail to hold on. The rail on the other side was full of men shouting and making an awful noise, and I saw another, bigger, ship a few yards away.

Musket fire sounded above me and I looked up. Men were in the rigging and crowded small platforms up there, firing at the ship, and a blood-red flag streamed above them.

I gasped, I knew what that meant – pirates! Father had put me aboard a ship of pirates!

I screamed when my arm was grabbed, and van Ecken shoved his face in mine. ‘What are you doing? Get back to your cabin; this is no place for my son’s wife!’

‘But, but, but . . .’ was all I managed. It didn’t seem worthwhile to point out that I hadn’t met his son, never mind married him.

He pulled me roughly back to the hatch in the deck.

‘But, what’s happening?’ I managed.

‘Business,’ he said. ‘Just business.’ He stood over me as I scrambled back down the ladder and followed me to the cabin.

‘These men were hired by your King Charles as privateers. Now the wars are over, what are they supposed to do? You can’t blame them for continuing a trade in which they excelled, and I’ll that ship and her cargo have for a very good price – business.’

He pulled open the door and shoved me inside. ‘Now stay there until I give you leave to go on deck!’

His words were accompanied by a tremendous boom. I fell as the ship lurched over and the gundeck and cabin filled with acrid, stinking smoke. He slammed the door. I crawled to the cot and pulled myself on to it, tears streaming down my face yet again.

Klara sat in the far corner, as far away from the door and rest of the ship as possible, clutching her knees, terrified.

‘Pirates,’ I told her. ‘They’re pirates.’

She nodded, put her head on her knees, and hugged herself.

Things quietened maybe half an hour after I’d found out the truth about my hosts, but that half hour had been the most terrifying of my life.

We’d sat and listened to gunshots and screams; fallen when our ship bumped into the other; coughed when the cabin flooded with gunsmoke; and stayed together silent and unmoving when the other hull cut out most of our light. We could do nothing but pray for it to be over.

Now that it was, I didn’t know what to say or do. I went to the privy ledge outside, but didn’t use it as I’d be in full view of the other ship now sailing along to one side and just behind us.

A knock at the door startled me, and I came back into the cabin as Klara opened it. Three men stood there. Two held plates of meat and beakers of rum punch – our dinner – and Klara took the plates from them. The third I hadn’t met before. He was clean-shaven and dressed differently to the others – oh, he had on shirt and breeches, as did the rest of the crew, but he also wore leather boots, a frockcoat and sported a neat curled periwig. He looked almost respectable.

‘Good evening, Mistress Berryngton.’ He bowed. ‘I’m Henry Sharpe.’

‘Good evening,’ I replied. ‘Where’s the other one, Cheval?’

He looked a little taken aback, but recovered without any loss of manners. ‘He’s taken the helm of our prize, sailing alongside.’ My jaw clenched at the casual way he talked about the other ship. ‘Mijnheer van Ecken is also aboard and has charged me with your care. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.’

I nodded, his manners shaming me into remembering my own. ‘Thank you, Mr Sharpe,’ I managed. ‘Um, there is one thing.’ I paused, embarrassed, but had to ask. ‘Is it possible to have a chamber pot? I cannot use the privy ledge with that ship so close.’

He smiled but didn’t laugh. ‘Of course, I will see to it for you. Forgive me, I should have thought about that.’

I smiled, still embarrassed, and the pirates took their leave. I crossed to the table where Klara had arranged the food, and sighed. Every meal so far had been the same: meat, meat and more meat; although this time we had a treat – an onion. Raw and whole, but still, something other than meat. I supposed the sailors ate like this every day. I picked mine up and bit into it, enjoying the sharp taste flooding my mouth.

‘What meat is it this time?’ I asked Klara.

She took a bite and smiled. ‘Goat,’ she replied.

‘Goat?’ I asked. I hadn’t eaten goat before. ‘What’s it like?’

‘Try it,’ she urged. ‘It’s delicious, watch out for the bones though, their cook is no butcher.’ She pulled a sliver of bone from her mouth to demonstrate.

I sat and picked up my knife, stabbing a slice of meat. Dark yellow fat was already congealing on the plate and my stomach turned, but I was hungry. I put the meat in my mouth and chewed. Klara was right, it was full of flavour, and I stabbed another piece.

I sat back, replete, my plate empty, and watched Klara clear the table. She’d definitely grown a little friendlier after the events of the day, but not much.

I took a sip of rum punch and someone knocked on the door again: Henry Sharpe holding a bucket, which Klara took without a word, then handed him the plates. He passed them to another man behind him then cleared his throat. ‘Ah, my apologies once more, Mistress Berryngton, but the Captain, ah, would like to see Klara immediately.’

I heard Klara’s gasp and my shoulders stiffened.

‘My own apologies, Mr Sharpe, but I require Klara’s services myself this evening. I regret I am unable to comply with Captain Hornigold’s request.’ My voice sounded firm enough, but inside I felt liquid.

He gave a small smile and nodded. ‘Very well.’ He left.

I let my breath out in a sigh – I hadn’t realized I’d been holding it – then slumped against the wall and looked at Klara, who was staring back at me.

‘Can you pass me that bucket, please?’ I’d been holding it in all day, and really needed to relieve myself, especially after that.

‘Th . . . thank you,’ Klara stuttered as she passed it to me.

‘If I’d known last night—’ I couldn’t continue, but she understood, nodded, and turned her back as I used the bucket. When I’d finished, she took it and threw the contents over the rail of the privy ledge.

Another knock at the door; this one heavy and insistent. Klara and I looked at each other, then I shook my head and opened the door myself. The captain stood there, his face red with anger, and I couldn’t take my eyes off his black bushy eyebrows. He looked at me, then over my shoulder at Klara, then back to me. I noticed Sharpe standing behind him.

‘What’s the meaning of this?’ he asked, his voice loud.

‘I beg your pardon?’ I asked, pretending confusion.

‘I have requested Klara’s company this evening.’

‘I beg your pardon,’ I said again, ‘but I require Klara’s services myself this evening.’

‘Why?’

I stepped back, for some reason I hadn’t expected to be challenged. I thought quickly and held on to the door; my legs felt weak and I wasn’t completely sure they could hold me up on their own. ‘I need her to prepare my bath.’

‘Bath?’ This is a working ship, not a travelling inn,’ the captain said, his voice full of scorn.

‘I am aware of that, Captain, but I’m on my way to meet my future husband and I’d like to bathe.’ I knew I had to stay calm, but it was an effort.

‘I could cut down one of the hogsheads for her,’ Sharpe said from behind Hornigold. ‘That may work as a bathtub.’ Hornigold turned and glared at him, and I was interested to see him take a breath to calm himself. Sharpe was unaffected by his anger.

‘You sort it then,’ Hornigold snapped. ‘And get one of the deckhands to fetch warm water from the galley.’ He turned back to me, calm now. ‘It’s all organised, my crew will arrange your bath, Klara is not needed.’

‘I’m not having any of your filthy crew in my cabin!’ I retorted. ‘They can leave the buckets of water outside the door, and Klara will take it from there. I’ll also need her to help with my dressing. I cannot possibly spare her at all tonight.’ I looked him in the eye and refused to blink or let my gaze drift up to those eyebrows. I noticed Sharpe wink at me from behind him and felt myself blush, but I didn’t back down.

‘Klara is
my
slave, and is here to attend to
me
,’ I continued. ‘I am sure my fiancé will be very interested to hear
all
the details of my journey.’

Hornigold clenched his fists and made a noise like a growl, then spun round and strode away. Sharpe smiled at me and followed. I closed the door in relief, then sighed. I was shaking and felt faint, but was cheered by the flicker of a smile from Klara.
Why couldn’t I have stood up to Father like that? Why did Mam not resist Father like that?

My return smile dissolved into giggles that I couldn’t stop, and Klara soon joined in. I’d been terrified defying the captain – a pirate – like that and had expected a blow. Who’d have guessed a villain would stay his fist where Father would not? Eventually, my relieved hysteria subsided, and I sat on the cot to wait for the bathtub and water. I had to focus on the future and not the past if I was to survive this.

‘This worked tonight, but we need to find more reasons why I can’t spare you,’ I said.

Klara looked up, then smiled and crossed to the cot. She knelt down and reached underneath it, then pulled out a chest I hadn’t realized was there. I moved out of her way as she opened the lid and looked inside at lace, ribbons and a parcel of white silk.

She lifted out the silk, and said, ‘We have to make your wedding gown. It could be a lengthy task.’

I stared at the material, feeling numb as it finally sank in that I was to marry into this life, and Mam would not be there to guide me.