Ill Wind and Dead Reckoning: Caribbean Pirate Adventure (Valkyrie) (22 page)

A huge crash startled me, and the deck jolted under my feet as water crashed against the stern windows. We had to get out. Panicking, I knocked the chair away, wrenched the door open and staggered outside on to deck, then immediately fell. Klara crouched down beside me, still in the cabin doorway, and refused to move. All we could see was chaos. We were sailing through a tremendous storm, and I could hardly make sense of where I was. The wind, loud enough in the cabin, screamed like a banshee just over my head – its shrieks pierced my skull until I thought I must go deaf. I could see very little: a few lighter smudges in the thick black above; some white streaks in the sea; the dirty white shirts of men somehow running on that heaving, swirling deck. Another crash shuddered through the ship, and a wall of water cascaded over the rail. Thank goodness I was already sitting down; that would have taken me overboard for sure had I still been on my feet.

Soaking wet, I blinked the salt out of my stinging eyes and tried to work out what I should do.
Are we sinking? Why has nobody come to get us? Where are the boats? Are they still being towed? How will we get into one? And how will they stay afloat in the same storm that’s sinking their mother ship? Although, as I can’t even stand up, it makes no difference, does it?

I could see a patch of white coming towards us, which became a shirt and then the captain. He was coming to help us. I could see him talking to me, but didn’t hear a word of it; the wind making him mute. But I knew we’d be safe now, he’d make sure we got to a boat. He bent and shouted directly in my ear.

‘What the hell are you doing on deck? Get back to the cabin! This is no place for landswomen!’

I looked past him and pointed at the man struggling with the tiller. He turned and ran to help, caught the wooden steering bar, then put his whole weight on to it just as the helmsman was thrown to the deck. Klara and I stayed where we were. I couldn’t see any way of successfully regaining my feet, and I’d rather die before I crawled across a pirate’s deck – even this pirate’s deck. One thing was for sure – we didn’t belong here. What was also certain was that we had nowhere else to go.

*

I don’t know how long we sat there, but it was long enough for my fear to turn to amazement. From the quarterdeck in front of the cabin I watched those men hauling on ropes, drenched by waves crashing over the bulwarks and on to the deck. How on earth did they know which rope to pull in the dark? How did they manage to stand upright? Even the man with the pegleg moved easily, and I realized this was normal. We weren’t sinking; we were sailing.

I thought I was seeing things when Klara pointed upwards. My eyes had got used to the darkness, and I saw men climbing. I was grateful for my position on the deck; I could watch them, just, outlined against the sails and balanced precariously on the yards swinging wildly with the motion of the ship.

The whole ship shuddered when an enormous wave broke over her side, and I caught a glimpse of a white shirt as its wearer was swept across the deck. I was sure he must have gone over. But as soon as the force of the water eased, he picked himself up and went back to the rope he’d been heaving on as if nothing had happened. Madness.

I only looked away when I heard laughter. The captain was watching our open-mouthed amazement with great hilarity. His earlier anger appeared to be forgotten.

‘This is nothing, querida
,
just a fresh gale – a stiff topsail breeze! He held a hand to me. ‘Up you get. I’m serious, you need to go back to your cabin. I haven’t got eyes enough to keep you both safe out here while you find your sea legs.’

I thought about refusing. I was enjoying watching these men sail the ship and, now that I knew we were safe, didn’t mind the force of the wind any more - although I did have a little shelter here in front of the cabins. Now that I’d got used to it, I found its strength exhilarating, but the look in Captain Santiago’s eyes told me he hadn’t made a request. I took his hand and got to my wobbly feet, earning more laughter from the captain.

‘Your feet are too close together, querida
.
If you want to walk my decks, you’ll have to walk like a sailor – feet wide apart and shift your balance with the deck – use your toes. Yes, that’s better.’

I stumbled into him on his praise and laughed myself. ‘I think I’m going to need some practice!’

‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘But not now.’ He helped me back into the cabin, where Klara had already crawled to the cot, feeling sick with the motion of the ship.

He looked at me, and I realized my shirt was saturated and stuck to my body. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. He left the cabin and returned a moment later with an armful of linen.

‘Here, you both need dry clothing.’

He also gave me a purple sash and a frockcoat. ‘I know it’s not of the quality you’re used to, but we don’t keep any ladies’ clothing in the slopchest.’

I took the clothes from him, grateful that they were at least clean, if no longer quite dry, and held up the coat. ‘But this is yours, isn’t it? I’ve seen you wearing it.’

‘It was, briefly, but it’ll look better on you, you’re welcome to it.’

‘Thank you.’ I was touched by his generosity, until I realized that both coat and silk sash had almost certainly been stolen. Still, he could have kept them for himself.

‘Captain Santiago!’ I called after him.

He turned back to me. ‘Leo,’ he corrected.

‘Are you Spanish or English?’ I flushed and remembered my manners. ‘Forgive my rudeness, but I’m confused, your name sounds Spanish, but your speech is English in the main.’

He smiled. ‘My father was Spanish and my mother English. She taught me her language as a child before she died. These days, English is the safest language on the water in a Carib Sea overrun with Jamaican privateers on the hunt for anything Spanish, even if we’re not at war at present. I’ve spent my sailing life with Englanders, many of the crew are English or a close relation. Besides, it’s the one language everyone aboard can speak to some extent.’

I nodded, trying to understand, but he hadn’t finished. ‘And you? You sound English, but the town was Dutch.’

‘Yes, it is. I was born in the Massachusetts Bay Colony and was married to a Dutchman.’ He waited for me to carry on, but I wasn’t ready to discuss my life with this man, not until I’d decided whether he really was a friend. He nodded at my silence and went back to his ship. I gave one of the shirts to Klara and we both changed.

*

It was wonderful to be dry(ish) and warm again. I massaged my ribs, still bruised, though at least no longer bloody from the wooden stays that Erik had insisted be drawn as tight as possible under my gowns, and which I had discarded just over a week ago. I revelled in the freedom of the rough linen shirt.

I sat on the cot and wondered what to do now. Sleep was out of the question; not only did I have to hold on to the cot just to sit, I felt exhilarated and excited after experiencing the wild weather on the other side of the door and, I realized, hungry – I hadn’t eaten for more than a day. We hadn’t been offered anything since we came aboard. My thoughts returned to the scene outside and I couldn’t stop thinking about the men up the masts. I looked around the cabin again. I’d had enough of being kept prisoner and doing what I was told. I didn’t want to start a new life in the same vein. I was trapped aboard this ship, but that didn’t mean I had to be trapped in this cabin; I wanted to find a place in this strange new world, somewhere I could fit in, and that meant sailing.

I put on my new coat and slipped out to Klara’s admonishments, feeling very strange as I waddled along, trying to mimic Leo’s walk. The result was not very ladylike, and was no doubt humorous to watch, but at least I kept my feet. More or less.

I found my way below and realized I’d picked a good time to go exploring. Everyone was above me doing things to the sails, and I followed the smell of wood smoke forward until I found a massive brick hearth, recently doused but still smoking and dimly lit by swinging lamps, right in the middle of the huge gundeck. A great copper pot of steaming water sat above the heat. I had a look around and found beakers and kye. I remembered Belinda making hot chocolate from the solid block of cocoa, and, guilty, I wondered what had become of her after our escape. I forced myself to stop worrying – there was nothing I could do for her – and I thought instead about my own situation. I was sure a hot drink would be appreciated by the men above, and I busied myself making a great pail of it, guessing at how much kye to use, and then threw some honey and peppers in for good measure. I also took some cold pork. It looked horrible and greasy, but I didn’t care; I needed food. I helped myself to some fruit too – enough for both myself and Klara, then used a length of rope to tie the handles of a dozen beakers together – not enough, but all I could carry – and struggled back up to the deck. I sat down in front of the cabins where there was a little shelter from the worst of the weather, and wondered what to do next.

‘Now what are you doing? I thought I told you to stay out of the way in your cabin.’

‘I thought you and your men would appreciate a hot drink. I’d rather be of use than hide away.’

‘Even in this weather?’

‘Even in this weather. Besides, I owe each of them my gratitude, I thought a hot drink would be welcome.’

He looked at me a moment. ‘It seems as if you’ve discarded more than just your gowns.’

I grew uncomfortable under his gaze. He seemed to make his mind up and continued, pointing at the other cabin, ‘You stay in there, the chartroom, and let the men come to you. I don’t want you stumbling about the decks, if you go overboard we’ll never find you again.’

‘Yes.’

He looked doubtful.

‘I promise I’ll stay put.’

I wasn’t sure he believed me, but he needn’t have worried, wild horses wouldn’t have been able to drag me along that maelstrom of wood and water again tonight.

I lay on the cot and listened, aware Leo slept just the other side of the thin wooden bulkhead. The shrieks, howls and crashes of last night’s storm had been replaced by the relatively gentle creaking of wood along with the constant clanging of the bell, which I realized marked the half-hours in batches of eight. Sunlight streamed through the stern windows and the odd gap in the planking between me and the outside world. Everything was different; last night seemed a dream. My new clothing and the burning of the skin on my face and hands disagreed. I licked my lips and found them cracked and sore. I touched my cheeks carefully, then snatched my hand away. Salt and wind had ruined my complexion in one night – and I could not decide whether or not I minded.

Groaning at yet another ringing of the bell, each time with an added peal, I swung my feet over the edge of the cot and sat up. My whole body hurt –
and all I’d done was prepare some hot chocolate
! My legs were the worst: walking on deck had its price, and the insides of my thighs felt as though they were made of iron as heavy as the cannon invading my sleeping space. I had no idea how I was going to stand and walk, and would have preferred not to, but some things just had to be done.

There was no chamber pot in the room – I supposed they were an unfortunate and avoidable hazard on a ship in heavy weather and not to be recommended. I shuddered, remembering the state of the shittenpot aboard that slaver, then shuffled painfully to the stern windows, opened the end one and eased myself carefully on to the swaying ledge on the other side. I stopped in delight at the view and felt a big smile stretch my face. The first time I could remember smiling for a very long time. The sea had lost all its violence of the previous night. The bright sun sparkled on the water and, as I watched, I saw a dark shadow race over the surface. The ship picked up a little more speed in the gust. We were completely alone; there wasn’t another ship, and hardly even a cloud to be seen. I really had left my life behind, along with our wake, but I had to leave something else behind now. I hadn’t been brave enough to do this in the dark, and was desperate. Desperate enough to squat on a few inches of wet wood and hang on to a decorative railing, all of which was moving in various directions at once. Thank goodness I wasn’t still wearing a gown! It took some getting used to, but at least I had some privacy and didn’t have to share the seat of easement hung over the bows with the men.

I looked at Klara, still asleep, the food I’d brought for her untouched, and decided not to wake her. She was exhausted after being sick all night, and I couldn’t forget that she’d lost her lover and her son through our escape. I’d leave her to her dreams for now, but for me it was time to go out on deck and face the pirates. Moving a little bit easier now that I had been up and about a while, I took a deep breath and walked out of the door on to the quarterdeck, using my new stride in spite of the pain. Erik had taught me well that it would take a lot more than that to stop me.

Leo stood right in front of me, directing the man on the tiller as to the course he should be steering. I caught my breath and paused for a moment to look at him. He’d shaved and washed, and was dressed in a clean, though damp, linen shirt and breeches to match my own. He had an indigo sash wrapped around him today, and a cutlass hung at his waist, although somehow he didn’t project as much menace as Erik had with his frockcoat and cane. I caught a faint ‘about bloody time’ telling me that Leo had been waiting for me, and I glared at the helmsman in response to his comment. I smiled and offered a, ‘Good morning, Captain,’ to Leo, through a surprisingly dry mouth.

‘Buenos días
,
Gabriella. Good morning. I trust you slept well?’

I hadn’t been expecting manners, and wasn’t really surprised when he carried on, laughing.

‘How are your legs? Ready to try climbing up there?’ He nodded up to the highest sails glistening in the sunlight at an impossible height.

‘Let me find and keep my feet on deck first, then I’ll tackle the masts,’ I said with a grin.

‘You know, that wouldn’t surprise me at all – the men are already laying bets on how long it’ll take you, rosada
.
Just remember to climb up the windward side, the wind’ll hold you in place, not blow you off
.
’

‘
Rosada?’

‘Your rosy cheeks. Don’t worry, it’s just a bit of windburn, once you spend a few hours in the sun, on top of the salt, you won’t recognize yourself!’

‘That may not be a bad thing,’ I muttered, thinking of my husband and not joining in with Leo’s laughter. Anything that would make it harder for Erik to find me suited me well, no matter what it meant for my skin – even more freckles.

He offered me his arm, and I jumped at his gesture then took it. ‘Would you like to meet the
Sound of Freedom
? I don’t think you’ve been formally introduced.’

‘You want to introduce me to your ship?’ I asked, thinking I must have misunderstood.

‘She’s the most important of all. If the ship doesn’t take a liking to you, you’re best off swimming ashore – sharks, sea serpents and all. But don’t worry, I have a feeling she’ll love you.’

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or nod seriously. ‘Lead on,’ I instructed, and we walked the length of her decks to her bows. I was uncomfortably aware of every man stopping what he was doing to stare, but nobody said anything and Leo didn’t seem to notice.

‘We’ve been together just over a year,’ he said. ‘She was a merchant vessel when I found her, but she’s taken to the piratical life as if she were born to it.’

‘As if she were born to it? You talk as if the ship is alive.’

‘She is, in her own way. She’s a living being who needs constant attention. She breathes the wind in her sails and drinks the water at her bows. She can be temperamental, mixes good behaviour with bad just as thoroughly as any other sailor, and makes it very clear if she’s not happy. Once you know how to listen, you’ll hear she talks constantly. She tells me when she needs more sail or less, whether our course suits her and when she needs some loving care. Her punishment is swift and brutal if she’s mistreated. Make no mistake, Gabriella, if you want to stay at sea, you have to make her acquaintance, earn her trust and learn how to live with her as your mistress.’

‘If I want to stay at sea?’ I asked, not sure if I was pleased or insulted at his assumption, yet excited by the invitation.

‘Yes.’ He looked at me in surprise. ‘Isn’t that what last night was about? In my experience, passengers don’t tend to leave their warm, dry and safe cabin on their first night at sea, especially to make hot chocolate for a pirate crew they don’t know and have good reason to fear – in a blow.’

‘Do I have good reason to fear?’

‘Of course you do. Look around you.’

We were on the foredeck now, the sea giving way before us with only a fine mist of spray in retaliation, and I turned to look at the ship behind me. Her well-scrubbed wooden decks were almost white in the bright sun and the men on them went about their work much more sedately than they had last night. Not such a good thing; they had plenty of time to leer, and whilst there were some smiles, there was not one I enjoyed receiving. I hung on to Leo’s arm a little tighter and understood the only thing keeping me safe from these men was his word. I took a deep breath, and noticed they all turned back to their work when they realized Leo’s eyes were on them.

A line of three or four men hauled together on the same rope, and I looked up to see where it led. There were more men on the highest horizontal wooden branch – yard – on the mainmast and, as I watched, the sail rolled down and reflected the sun into my eyes. I realized the rope was attached to one of the bottom corners and I watched the flogging sail come under control, making a perfect bellied square. I felt the ship beneath my feet surge forward. ‘She’s telling you she’s pleased with more sail isn’t she?’

Leo nodded in approval. ‘You’re learning her language already. That will help you with the men.’

I looked at him again, remembering his warning over my safety.

‘Just be careful and stay close to me. As I said when you came aboard, you are women aboard a ship of free men. Whilst I have made it clear you are not to be harmed, that you are my woman, they are still—’

‘That I’m
your woman
?’ I interrupted, full of outrage and, if I was honest, a small fluttering in my stomach. There was no doubt I was intrigued and yes, even fascinated by this man who’d come into my life in such dramatic fashion. But I was a married woman, however reluctantly. All I knew of being a man’s woman was pain, fragility and fear. I wasn’t sure I wanted to risk that again, despite the way my body betrayed me in his presence.

‘Calm down.’ He laughed at the heat in my cheeks. ‘I told you before, the only fare to pay aboard this ship is a sailor’s: to hand, reef and steer. Nothing else will be asked or expected of you.’ He laughed again at my confusion. ‘Don’t look so worried, querida
.
The only way I can ensure your safety is if the men believe you’re mine. If they harm you, they’d be challenging me in mutiny, which I can punish by marooning or death. Stay close to me, heed my words and you’ll be fine. I won’t ask anything of you that you don’t want to give. Are my terms acceptable?’

‘And what about Klara?’

‘She’s also under my protection.’

I nodded.
Who knew a pirate would be honourable?
I relaxed a little, wondering what the social etiquette was for this situation. He’d been a perfect gentleman so far and had treated both myself and Klara with courtesy and respect – except for shouting at me in the storm last night.
What manner of man is he?
I watched the men set another sail and remembered what I’d seen the night before.

‘How do they know which rope to pull in the dark?’ I wanted to change the subject whilst I took in everything that had happened in the last couple of days.

‘A lifetime of long practice and close attention. Every line has a purpose, and every man knows this ship inside and out, day and night. Any of us could board any ship and know exactly how to sail her. This is what we do. This is the world we are masters of.’

I relaxed further, my attention fixed on his voice with the slight Spanish accent. He talked of his ship and men with pride, almost like a father talking about his children, and I was beginning to understand that life at sea was as much about living by your heart as it was about the skills and risks involved. I looked around me at the faces of men who had chosen this life with new insight, and realized I had a chance to be part of a family. I was seventeen years old and didn’t know what that was like. I had a real chance at a real life here. It might be a short one, and it might be strange one, but that may just be outweighed by the way it was lived. I looked at my new home with hope and possibility, then grinned up at Leo.

‘Hand, reef and steer, I think you said, what’s first?’