“I – I dinna ken what ye mean.” Gavina’s hand went to the back of her short hair and she nervously stroked the ends.
“I suppose it doesna matter. When ye’re ready to tell me the whole truth, ye will.” She wiped her hands on a rag. “In the meantime, ye’d best stay close to me and far away from the men, in case they catch on to who ye really are. If so, Birk will have been right in sayin’ they’ll use ye as naught but the ship’s whore.”
Gavina’s heart lodged in her throat. This thought frightened her more than anything. “Tristan told the others to leave me alone,” she blurted out, not wanting to admit to the old woman that she thought the man was handsome and that she somehow felt protected when she was near him. That was something that even Gavina thought sounded ridiculous. “He said he was the only one who would give me commands.”
“Did he now?” she said with a chuckle. “Well, if so, then Tristan is the one ye need to stay away from the most, because that means there is somethin’ he wants from ye. And if he finds out ye’re a lass, I guarantee what he’ll be wantin’ is somethin’ ye willna be willin’ to give. With these boys, an action like that is nothin’ but a way to be admired by the others. I’ve heard so much talk from these men about what they do with women that my head is spinnin’, and I’ve only been on board a day.”
“What do ye mean, Nairnie? Do ye really think I need to fear Tristan? Yer grandson has been nothin’ but nice to me so far. He even seemed to go out of his way to protect me from the others.”
“That is exactly what I mean, lass. Ye must be some sort of prize to him. He must have plans for ye or he would never have brought ye on board to begin with. Pray he doesna find out ye’re a lass because that is the worst thing that can happen at this point.”
“Worst thing? Why? What do ye mean?”
Nairnie looked at her and pursed her mouth the way she had done when she talked with her grandsons earlier. “What is yer name, lassie? Yer real name?”
“I’m Gavina. Gavina Drummond. The men just think I’m Gavin.
“Well, Gavina Drummond, one thing ye need to learn quickly about Tristan is that he is very superstitious. These men believe havin’ a woman on board is bad luck.”
“But ye’re a woman and they took ye on board.”
“Aye, but they almost didna.”
“Still, they did once they found out ye were their grandmathair.”
“Is that what they told ye?” She laughed. “They were still goin’ to let me drown even when they kent who I was.”
“They were?”
“Aye,” she answered with a nod. “It was only when I told them I could tell them where to find a treasure map that they took me aboard.”
“A treasure map?” Gavina’s heart jumped.
“Aye, I found it on my late son’s ship, the Desperado. I was bringing it along in case I needed to use it to lure my grandsons to me. However, it was stolen from me at the Crooked Crow Tavern by a man named Birk. The same Birk ye are tellin’ me about, I’m sure.” She moved the hanging blanket aside and peered out to the deck, narrowing her eyes. “In all the excitement, I didna even get the chance to ask them if they found the map.”
“They didna,” she told them, not even able to look at Nairnie when she spoke.
“That’s a shame. I was hopin’ they’d find that treasure. Are ye sure about this, lassie?”
“Oh, I’m sure. Nairnie, if ye dinna like yer grandsons bein’ pirates, why did ye hope they’d find the treasure?”
“I suppose I hoped they’d find it just so they’d have enough to live on and leave piracy forever. It doesna matter. Just remember, lass, that all men are the same. They are pigheaded stubborn, and make stupid decisions. They will never listen to the reasonin’ of a woman. Therefore, there are only two things that entice them into doin’ what ye want.”
“What are they?” she asked, curious to know.
“Well, temptin’ them with food is the only one that would work for me, so that is what I’m doin’.” She pulled down a mortar and pestle and started grinding fresh herbs that were probably stolen from the tavern.
“I dinna ken how to cook. No’ really,” said Gavina, feeling her hope diminishing quickly. “What is the second thing that will get a man to do what a woman wants?”
Nairnie stopped grinding herbs and turned to look at Gavina. “It’s somethin’ that I ken ye would never use to yer advantage since ye seem to be a guid lass. The second way to control a man is to use yer body.”
“Ye mean – couple with him?”
“Missy, ye’re on a ship full of men who have lustful thoughts of wenches day and night. Of course that’s what I mean! Now, I wouldna advise ye to use this method. Hopefully, ye’ll be off this ship and far away from here before any of them discover that ye are no’ who ye pretend to be.”
“Of course, I will,” said Gavina in deep thought. She wanted nothing more than to escape this pirate ship but, unfortunately, she couldn’t leave and it wasn’t just because she was being held prisoner. She couldn’t leave because she needed Tristan and his crew’s help in finding the treasure so she could use it in trade for her brother’s life. Now, she just had to figure out a way to convince him to do her bidding – without using either of the ways Nairnie suggested.
“Take the helm, Stitch.” Mardon handed over the ship to his navigator while he headed down to the deck where his men were patiently waiting for their share of the booty they’d collected from the Crooked Crow. When he got to the bottom stair, it squeaked as always, about driving him mad.
“I told you, I’ll divvy up the plunder as soon as Tristan gets his ass down here,” Mardon was telling the others, using the tip of his sword to push back the anxious men from the loot.
“My ass?” Tristan repeated, walking into the center of the circle of men. They moved aside, letting him pass.
“Sorry, Brother. It’s just an expression,” mumbled Mardon.
“Where’s Aaron?” Tristan’s eyes scanned the crowd but he didn’t see his youngest brother amongst the men.
“He’s still up in the lookout,” Ramble relayed the information.
“Aaron, get down here,” Tristan bellowed, looking up to see his brother climbing down the rigging. “Peg Leg Pate, where are you?” Tristan called out.
“I’m here, Cap’n.” The round-bellied man walked over from next to the yardarm, his peg leg thumping on the wooden deck along the way.
“How many times have I told you to fix that bottom stair? It’s still squeaking,” Tristan complained.
“Aye, Cap’n I’ll fix it.” The man said the words but didn’t move. He was the ship’s carpenter and in charge of the ship’s structural integrity. He fixed anything from damages incurred after a storm, to holes, to even keeping the yardarm and masts sound. In trying times, he even acted as a surgeon if the need arose to cut off a limb.
Pate always had a peg leg in the time that Tristan knew him, but word was that the man cut off his own leg rather than to let someone else do it. Tristan didn’t know if it was really true, and neither did he care. As long as his men were loyal and did their jobs, that is all that took his concern. “I’ll get to it right after Mardon divvies up the booty, if that’s all right with ye,” the man explained. “Ye understand, Cap’n, don’t ye? I don’t want to miss out on my share.”
“Fine,” said Tristan, thinking this crew was like a pack of wild dogs when it came to getting their share of booty. Then again, it had been a long winter and the plunder had been scarce. Spring wasn’t proving to be much better. His men needed something to look forward to and he couldn’t blame them. He’d been getting restless himself lately.
“I’m here,” said Aaron, pushing his way to the front of the crowd to join them, walking surefooted in his bare feet.
“All right then,” said Tristan. “Mardon, get to it.”
Mardon dumped all the bags out, and the crew moved in closer.
“I’ll take that knife,” said Coop, the barrel maker.
“I could really use it.”
“I want that sword,” said Pate, moving toward the pile.
“Ye always get the swords. I want it,” complained Noll, sticking out his foot and tripping Pate. The man stumbled and Tristan reached out to keep him from falling.
“Watch where ye’re goin’, ye clumsy fool,” complained Wybert, another pirate, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. There were about two dozen men on the ship, and this booty was extremely small. Tristan knew it was going to cause problems.
The men started arguing, so Tristan put his fingers to his mouth, whistling loudly to get their attention. “Quiet down,” he warned them. “Everyone, wait your turn.”
Tristan looked up to see Gavina emerge from the galley with Nairnie. She held on to her flute as they watched. Why did he feel as if he didn’t want the girl or his grandmother there? Something about the women watching seemed . . . wrong. He needed to finish this up quickly.
“Go on, Mardon,” commanded Tristan. “And make it fast. I don’t have all day.”
“What about that ring on the chain around yer neck?” one of the men called out. “That was part of the booty, too, wasn’t it?”
“I want the ring,” complained another man. “I never get anythin’ good.”
“Ye get more than me,” shouted another. “How about if I get my share before him this time?”
Tristan’s hand covered the ring in thought. He knew without even looking that Gavina was staring a hole through him. He’d seen one of his men take it from the neck of the dead man that he was certain was Gavina’s father.
“This ring will be my share of the booty,” he told the men.
More gripes went up from the crowd.
“If I must remind you all, as captain, I get double share and have the right to choose first. Mardon is my quartermaster and also gets double share, choosing second. Then my brother, Aaron, who is bosun gets his share and a half. All the food and drink is shared evenly, and Mardon determines the order in which the rest of you will choose, or decides if you get anything at all. I know the booty is small, but there will be a huge bounty soon.”
“If not, I think I’ll join Nereus’ crew,” Tristan heard one of the men mumble. “At least they aren’t starvin’ and poor.”
“Who said that?” Tristan’s head snapped up. “Talk like that will not be tolerated aboard my ship. It’ll only get you strung up from the yardarm. Now who was it? Answer me.”
“It was Noll,” said Goldtooth with a nod of his head.
“Bring him here,” commanded Tristan.
Goldtooth grabbed the man by his tunic and hauled him over to Tristan.
“What is the matter with you that you’d say a thing like that?” growled Tristan.
“Well, it’s no secret that we’ve been hungry these past few months,” complained Noll. “What about the treasure map? Ye let a man burn it in front of ye? We could have used that booty.”
“You think I don’t know that?” shouted Tristan, losing his patience with this man. “Don’t worry, I’m going to get a hold of that map and we’re going to be rich soon.”
“How do ye plan on doin’ that?” asked the man boldly. “It seems to me that lately ye’re not half the pirate ye used to be.”
Tristan had no choice at that point but to punch Noll in the face. “I’ll teach you not to talk to your captain like that again.”
Noll jumped up and reached for his sword. With a nod from Tristan, Aaron and Mardon disarmed him and held his arms.
“Take him to the main mast,” commanded Tristan. “Ramble, fetch me my whip.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” said Ramble, running to where the whip was hanging and hurrying back with it. “He really shouldna be talkin’ that way to ye, Captain. I’m surprised ye’re no’ makin’ him walk the plank or that ye’re no’ keelhaulin’ him instead.”
“You need to stop talking, Ramble,” said Tristan, taking off his coat and handing it to the boy, retrieving the whip from him.
“Aye, of course, Cap’n, I’ll stop talkin’ at once. I ken I tend to talk a lot at times, especially when I get excited.”
Tristan picked up the whip and moved toward the post where Aaron and Mardon had stripped Noll of his tunic, exposing his back. They tied the man’s hands around the post. Something made Tristan look over to Nairnie and Gavina. Nairnie was glaring at him with her hands on her hips. Gavina stared at him with wide eyes, her face turning very pale. He lowered the whip slightly and spoke to Ramble.
“Ramble, take Gavin to my quarters and leave him there.”
“To yer quarters?” asked Ramble in question. “Ye usually make the new men watch as ye punish someone.”
“Just do it,” he ground out.
“Aye, Cap’n. I’ll take the lad to yer cabin right away.” Ramble ran off and collected Gavin, doing as ordered. Nairnie still stood there with her hands on her hips. Why did Tristan feel like naught but a child right now who was about to get scolded? He hated having the women on the ship because it made him vulnerable in more ways than one.
He turned back to Noll, but spoke to Nairnie over his shoulder. “Nairnie, take the food from the tavern and go to the galley and start making us something to eat.”
“It’s no’ time to eat again.”
“Do it!” he bellowed, not able to look at her when he spoke. “I want two men to help her with the food. There will be extra rations involved for those who do it.”
Suddenly, everyone wanted to help Nairnie.
“Get back,” he heard the old woman telling them. “Ye all stink and I dinna want yer filthy bodies so close to me.”
“Coop and Goldtooth will help Nairnie,” he called out. “The rest of you stay far away from that food as well as the rest of the booty or I’ll slice off your fingers as soon as I’m finished with Noll.”
He glanced over to see Gavina turn and look over her shoulder as Ramble opened the cabin door. She stared at Tristan as if she thought he were some sort of monster. He hadn’t even done anything yet, but the way she looked at him, it cut him to the bone. Why the hell should it matter what she or Nairnie thought? It didn’t. This was his ship and he was the captain. He needed to maintain control and not let anyone speak out against him. If he didn’t do something about this right away, there could be a mutiny on his hands next. He had no choice. Tristan raised the whip and, in one motion, brought it down hard across Noll’s back.
Chapter 5
Gavina flinched when she saw Tristan bring the whip down across the pirate’s back. The cracking noise made her twitch. Pain shot through her own back from Birk inking the map onto her skin. How could anyone endure the sting of the whip? It must be so painful.
“In here, Gavin.” Ramble grabbed her arm and pulled her into the room. “I know it’s hard the first time to see a whippin’, but just be glad it isn’t ye.” They entered the room, leaving the door open behind them.
“Does he do that often?” she asked, feeling dazed as she stepped into the small cabin.
“Not as often as he uses his fist against their faces, but more often than he keelhauls a man.”
“Keelhaul? What’s that?” she asked.
Ramble chuckled. “Ye’ve sure got a lot to learn. Don’t worry, Tristan will teach ye everythin’ ye need to know.”
“I’m no’ sure I want him to teach me anythin’. No’ after what I just saw him doin’.” Her eyes scanned the room. It was small and the ceiling barely high enough for a tall man to stand. Two hanging beds, one made of canvas with shallow sides, and the other made of netting, swung back and forth from the ceiling as the ship swayed. There was a pillow and a bunched-up blanket thrown haphazardly atop the canvas bed. On the bed made of netting was a blanket that was folded up neatly with the pillow placed precisely on top of it.
On the floor beneath the messy bed was a pile of clothes and a pair of boots. There was also an open trunk filled with things spilling out onto the floor. The neat bed had two closed humpback trunks at the foot on the
floor. Directly under it was what looked like a pallet stuffed with straw.
“Do ye sleep here, too?” she asked Ramble.
“Nay.”
“Why are there three beds?”
“Well, Tristan’s brother, Mardon, uses that bed,” he said, pointing to the neat one.
“Is Tristan’s bed the messy one, then?” she asked.
“Aye, it is. The two of them are nothin’ alike. Mardon’s things are always impeccably neat and clean. On the other hand, our captain doesn’t seem to care as much about things like that at all.
“Who sleeps on the pallet?” she asked curiously, pointing to the one stuffed with straw on the floor.
“Oh, that pallet and one of the trunks belongs to their youngest brother, Aaron. Aaron doesn’t use it much. Most of the time, he just sleeps on the deck with the rest of the crew, or up in the lookout basket.”
“In the lookout basket? How could anyone want to sleep there or even go up there at all?” Just the thought of climbing that high made her dizzy and queasy.
“Aaron is like a monkey,” he explained. “He loves it up there. Plus, he knows it’s a place to go where he won’t be bothered.”
“I see.” She continued to study the room that was being lit only by the light coming through the door and one small window by Tristan’s bed.
Across the room, a horizontal board hung from the ceiling by ropes, serving as a table. Several items were atop it. A barrel was to one side, used for sitting on. A wooden bench was on the other. Next to the table were stone busts of naked mermaids emerging from the wall. And in the center of the mermaids hung a painting of a naked woman sprawled out across a blanket in a most provocative pose.
“Och!” she gasped, shocked and a little embarrassed to see this.
“Aye, isn’t that enticin’?” asked Ramble smiling from ear to ear. “The crew keeps sneakin’ in here to look at it, and to . . . relieve themselves on occasion. It infuriates the captain and he has to threaten them to stay out. We picked that up from a French ship of very wealthy nobles.”
Tristan (Pirate Lords Series Book 1) Page 9