“Not quite. There is something about solid ground under your feet that you just can't replace. You're at the mercy of the wind and water here. At least on land you have more control. My name's Senona.”
“Matt.”
Senona smiled. She had yet to receive an introduction that included a last name from anyone besides the Captain and his brother. “It's nice to meet you, Matt. If you don't mind me asking, what is life like on this ship?” It wouldn't hurt to try and get an idea of what the Captain was like, and what better way to do so than to find out from the men who spent every day with him?
“Best life I ever had. The Cap'n looks after his crew better than most Cap'ns. Don't base what ye think of him by what happened last night. He's a good man.”
“That's hard to believe.”
“Ye aren't angry with me. I was the one that hauled ye here.”
Senona grimaced. She had thought he sounded familiar but hadn't wanted to make any accusations. It wouldn't have gotten her anywhere to cause conflict. “On his orders.”
“He was trying to help ye.”
She said nothing. Could she really deny that? There had been no evidence to the contrary, and she had to admit they were treating her quite admirably so far, aside from the previous night.
Matt smiled a cocky sort of grin. He knew she had no argument. “I best be getting down. Karl will be hollering up at me soon to get down and back to work.” He made his way over to a shroud and began to shimmy down.
Senona took one last look around and then she too climbed down to inform Karl of how alone they were. But with the threat of land all around her, Senona felt they weren't alone enough. She was still too close to home to be safe.
Senona walked into the Captain's dining room that night wearing the same clothes she had worn the night before, and all day. It was very much against her upbringing, but she had a limited supply of clothing. She blushed briefly upon realising she was late and had caused the Captain, Karl, and James to wait. However, she quickly shook it off. After all, she was among pirates, not among the nobility of Spain.
“Good evening,” she said with a forced smile.
Brant stood up and helped Senona to her seat, directly to the right of his.
“Thank you, Captain,” she said, sitting quietly and placing a napkin on her lap.
The array of food was spectacular, considering they were on a ship, and one that had left in a hurry at that. Senona thought back to the days when she had been friends with Caton; he had told her horror stories about the food on ships and was somewhat relieved to see they weren't true.
“This all looks quite amazing, Captain.”
“This is only the first day at sea. Just wait until we've been out here for a few weeks. Not much will look good then,” said James.
Brant chuckled. “I'm afraid he's right. I would recommend enjoying it while the food is still fresh. We are fortunate that the cook had the good sense to get a few things when we had first docked.”
At this, everyone started to eat. Those few words seemed to instill haste in everyone, as if the food may go stale as they sat there. However, after a few minutes of eating in silence, Senona spoke up, not entirely comfortable with the lack of conversation.
“How long do you expect to be at sea before we dock in Port Royale?” she asked between mouthfuls of potatoes.
Brant lifted an eyebrow in amusement. “You're staying with your kidnappers then?”
“I haven't decided yet, but I thought it best to make an informed decision.”
“It all depends on the weather, how many enemy ships we come across, and how often we make port. I'd say maybe two or three months. I try to stay out the entire season if possible.”
“Do you come across enemy ships often?” Senona asked, knowing very well they weren't enemy ships at all, just ships ripe for picking by pirates like Brant Foxton. This was no military vessel.
“Yes, ma'am, the French and Dutch have become quite bold, and the Spanish, well, we like them the best,” informed James. Brant winced and kicked him under the table.
James gave Brant a glare that no cabin boy should get away with while Senona studied the whole exchange in fascination. Smiling, she replied, “Let's not ignore the purpose of this ship. I'm not completely ignorant.”
Karl smiled, but remained silent as the other three spoke. He didn't seem to feel any need to speak while he was enjoying his food whole-heartedly.
Brant, however, did not seem comfortable with the subject they had breached and quickly changed it. “How do you think Naldo will do? Three months is a long time for a horse to be cooped up.”
“I can't really say. If I find he's taking it badly, I suppose I'll just have to get off when we make port. If I stay, that is.”
“The horse'll do fine,” reassured Karl.
“You're sure?” asked Senona.
“Horses get transported by ship all the time in war or to the colonies. He'll do just fine after he's had some time to get used to everything.”
“I hope you're right, Karl. Whether on this ship or another, I would like to get all the way to Port Royale.”
Brant stood up then. His plate had been completely polished off. “If you will all excuse me, I believe I'm going to turn in for the night.”
“G'night, Cap'n,” said Karl.
“Lessons first thing in the morning, James,” said Brant sternly.
James scowled a little but nodded his assent, and on that note, Brant left the room.
Karl followed Brant's example not much later. “My old age don't allow me many late nights anymore,” he explained with a smile before he too took his leave to make one last round of the ship.
“Will you come with me to check on Naldo?” Senona asked James.
“Of course.”
The two of them went below deck, laughing as they went, with James telling Senona some of the more amusing stories of things that had happened on the ship.
When she had woken up that morning, she had been scared, confused, and angry. She had been on a strange ship with strange people and, in the span of a single day, the crew had made her feel happy and at home. That was something Senona was only now experiencing for the first time in her life.
About the Author:
Christine started writing when she could put pen to paper and form words. Now, many years later, not much has changed.
Her stories are romances that you can relate to with a little bit of adventure mixed in. She enjoys writing flawed but loveable characters and more often than not a horse or two will find their way in as well.
Christine makes her home in Manitoba, Canada on a sprawling 15 acre ranch with her sons, husband, and many animals.
Owned by the Ocean Page 18