“I thought you wanted to know your future. If these are things you do not wish to hear—”
“I didn’t say I didn’t wish to hear them,” Celia said. “But I’d prefer that you word them in a way that won’t make me weep. Does that cost extra?”
“You should not marry this man. You must seek your soul mate—your true love. But first you will have to endure many trials.”
“What kind of trials?”
“Water, wild and fleet. A royal tempest’s gale. Golden fire in twilight. A fallen woman abducted by seven sisters,” she explained mysteriously.
“What the hell does all that mean?”
The fortune-teller glared. “Sometimes I get only flashes of images. I cannot always explain them fully.”
“Well, you certainly had no problems explaining fully that Phillip doesn’t love me.”
“I can’t pick what details come to me, child.”
“Celia,” Gayle said, greatly amused. “Can we please go, before this comes to blows?”
“That depends. Do you have any more cryptic nonsense for me?” she asked the gypsy woman.
“If you do not believe, there is nothing more I can tell you.” Celia stood, seeming thoroughly disappointed. “But know this, child. Everything I’ve told you is true.”
Gayle grinned. “And do you predict she will realize that someday?”
The fortune-teller calmly closed her eyes. “Aye, she will.”
Chapter Five
Celia and Gayle rejoined the crew of Original Sin long enough to ensure that Nichols had overseen the unloading of all the provisions, as instructed. Gayle checked the ship’s hold and had the cooper inspect and properly stow all casks of wine, water, and rum. She also had all the water casks “sweetened” with a small amount of rum and explained that without it the water would become tainted and undrinkable at sea. She referred to this as “grog.”
At her command, the crew had been organizing and cleaning the areas below decks, and Celia was impressed with how orderly everything now was. Perhaps the notion of pirates being filthy, slothful villains was merely scuttlebutt, she thought.
Gayle inspected the food that was brought on board and made sure it included not only the fare that would keep a good while, but also an ample amount of fresh fruit and various types of meats. This, she said, was to keep everyone healthy. Too many stale biscuits tended to make everyone ill-tempered.
The group of crewmen who had been allowed to wreak mayhem on the town when they first docked was back on board, and the next shift had spilled into the city. They accompanied Gayle and Celia to The Bountiful Teat, though these men were more interested in seeing the bottom of a tankard and the bosom of a willing wench than in the additional crewmembers Gayle was seeking there. She entered the tavern at Celia’s side and surveyed the crowd. “Hmm, it appears that Desta made good on her promise.”
“What, has she sacrificed a goat to you in worship?” Celia quipped.
“She seems to have found us some new recruits. Is someone still grousing because her fiancé will never love her?” Gayle smiled fiendishly.
“Well, at least…I may have a fiancé who doesn’t— Oh, sod it,” Celia finally spat out in frustration, then walked over to a table and sat down in a snit.
Gayle couldn’t stop laughing long enough to comment on Celia’s behavior.
“Are you the captain who seeks crewmembers?” a young man with a Scottish accent asked.
“Aye,” she answered brightly, scrutinizing both him and the shorter fellow who was standing behind him timidly. “And what skills do you have?”
“We are carpenters, taught by our father.”
“That’s a very useful occupation. Have you spent any real time at sea?”
“Aye,” the young man said. “My brother and I were on the Venture, a sloop sunk off the coast of Rum Quay.”
“Sunk by whom?”
“The Corona d’Oro,” the brother said in disgust.
“Captain Santiago,” she muttered.
“Aye,” the brothers answered in unison.
“Welcome aboard, lads.” She slapped the first young man lightly on the shoulder. “You’re just in time for tomorrow’s careening. You’ll each receive a share and a half of any acquired loot.” The two men looked quite pleased with this arrangement and nodded. Sailors with skills like carpentry and navigation weren’t easy to find, so they warranted a larger share of any collected booty. “The ship is Original Sin. She’s the three-masted square-rigger moored at the westernmost pier. Be on her by midnight.”
“Thank ye, Cap’n. We will,” the young Scotsman said, as he and his brother went to the bar.
Smitty rolled a cask of mead in from the back room and Gayle asked him quietly, “How is the old man faring?”
“Very well.” He hefted the cask upright and motioned for the barman to open it. “I moved him upstairs, and he’s been in and out of consciousness.”
“Excellent.”
He wiped the sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief. “Are you ready to meet the majority of your recruits?”
She surveyed the group of dark-skinned men in the tavern. “Maroons?”
“Aye.” He poured both her and himself a tankard of freshly tapped mead. “This lot came over on an English slave ship, but somehow managed to make a break. They’ve been ensconced here in New Providence, waiting for a ship to come through that won’t turn right around and sell them back into slavery.” He took a long drink. “I assured them they could trust you.”
“Do any of them speak English?”
“A few speak some broken English and will translate as best they can for the rest.”
Celia sullenly watched Gayle and Smitty as they crossed the room to talk to a group of black men. She assumed they were potential recruits, but was only mildly curious.
A slightly plump, blond serving wench approached her table and deposited a glass of red wine in front of her. “From Captain Malvern,” she explained. “And she requests that you drink it slowly.”
Celia chuckled. “That rancorous tart.” She felt better as she got an idea. “Tell me, what do you have on the menu tonight? I’m famished.”
“Well, we have a lovely fish stew.”
“Hmm. I want something a bit—”
“Lighter?”
“More expensive. What’s the costliest thing on the menu? I’ll take two.”
*
By the time Gayle returned to the table where Celia was seated, she saw two large plates with cooked squabs, piled high with fixings. Celia was slowly dissecting a bird, while the other portion sat in front of an empty seat waiting to be consumed.
“Oh, thanks for the wine,” Celia said, raising her glass in a disingenuous salute. “I’ve been taking small sips with my supper, as you instructed.”
“Hmm, and this other platter?” She eyed a fowl with a large, two-pronged fork jutting from its thorax.
“I ordered it for you,” Celia explained. “You must be half starved.” She took another bite and flashed an insincere smile.
“This is quite elaborate.” Gayle sat at the table and clunked her tankard of mead down.
“Well, I thought the captain should have only the best.”
“And the highest priced, perhaps?”
“I was only thinking of you,” she lied.
“No doubt. Me and what I might have to pay for. Very nice.”
“It’s quite tasty. Worth every farthing.”
A small, sinewy woman, wearing men’s clothing and a bandana over her black hair, stepped up to the table. “Pardon, miss,” she said. “Are you Captain Malvern?”
“Aye.” Gayle poked at a squab with the fork.
The woman pulled up a chair across from her and sat down. “I’m Molly McCarthy, and I’ve come to join your crew.”
Gayle fixed her gaze on her and appraised her. “Have you?”
“Aye, Cap’n. I’m a first-rate sailor.”
“On what ship have you sailed?”
Molly shifted in her chair, seeming uncomfortable. “Both the Opal and Bon Vivant.”
“Those ships let a woman on board?” Gayle questioned, her mouth full of overpriced squab.
“They didn’t know I was a woman.”
“What?” Celia coughed, nearly choking on her wine.
“Ah.” Gayle nodded. “And when they found you out, did they cast you off?”
“Aye,” Molly replied. “But I was a bloody good sailor—better than most men on board.”
“I believe you. You look to be made of sturdy stuff. Can you fight?”
“Like a fuckin’ she-beast.”
“And have you ever manned cannon?”
“A time or two.”
“Well, Molly. I suppose if you are ever going to have an opportunity to sail the seas as the woman you are, it will be aboard Original Sin.”
“I thought that was your ship in the harbor. She’s a right beauty.”
“Be on her by midnight. You’ll get one share of any earnings.” Gayle tipped back her mead and finished it off.
“Thank you, Cap’n,” the young woman said as she stood. “When I heard you was here, I thought I’d found my chance.”
Gayle nodded and started eating again. She flagged the serving wench down for a refill of mead as Molly left the tavern with almost a spring in her step.
“You mean to tell me that girl disguised herself as a man on those ships?” Celia finally asked, trying to keep her voice politely low.
“It happens more than you would think.”
“But the crew is all living below deck together. There’s no privacy at all. How would you be able to keep a secret like that?”
“I’m sure it’s a challenge. But you have to take into account the will of a woman who’s made up her mind. If all she wants to do is sail, she’ll find a way to do it. Molly was lucky.”
“How so?”
“Most women on ships are killed when they’re discovered. Some believe that women are bad luck at sea. Sailors are a superstitious lot, you know. On most ships she’d have been rogered at the rail and thrown overboard. The fact that she survived two crews who discovered her fraudulence is a testament to her strength.”
“Rogered at the rail?”
“Raped by everyone on board.”
“What a charming lot you pirates are. Can I get some more wine, please?” she asked the wench who had arrived with a refill of mead.
“I warned you,” Gayle said, taking a drink. “There are things about buccaneers that will turn your bloody stomach.”
“And how do you keep your crew in check?”
“Discipline, mixed with reckless spending.”
“Meaning?”
“The crew needs to know exactly what’s expected. I don’t bring anyone on board who’s not ready to put in a solid day’s work. I let them know that fighting or stealing from each other will get them keelhauled. They’d get the same if they abused you, or Molly.”
Celia winced. “Do I dare ask what keelhauling is?”
“We attach a rope to you and pull you underwater along the keel of the ship. It’s a very long ship, you see, and the barnacles will more than likely rip the flesh off your bones—if you don’t drown while you’re down there.”
“Mother of God. How do you live like this? You can’t truly enjoy it.”
Gayle seemed to ponder this question for a moment. “Bits of it I do, I must confess. That’s where the reckless spending comes in. The men are more likely to pull their weight and not be insubordinate when they know there are definite advantages to life on board.”
“Like a place at the head of the queue for the rapes?”
Gayle sighed. “We haven’t had any rapes on Original Sin. I mean advantages like good wages, gambling, drinking, and whoring when we’re in port. If you never let the lads blow off steam, they’ll get frustrated and wonder why they’re even aboard. The trick to maintaining a good, dependable crew is keeping them content.”
“Captain?” The deep male voice drew Gayle’s attention and she snapped her head up.
“Aye?”
“I’m told your ship needs a doctor,” the fair-haired fellow said. She surreptitiously motioned for him to sit at the table and he hastily did so.
“You’re a doctor?” Gayle inquired.
“I am. Dr. Keegan, at your service.” He glanced to Celia and stared at her oddly with his mouth open, then turned white and began to stutter. “Uh, you can call me James,” he said to only Celia, as he eyed her in obvious distraction.
Gayle cleared her throat, calling his attention back to her immediately. “I’m Captain Malvern,” she began. “This is Celia Pierce.”
James looked at Celia again and seemed unable to speak.
“Um, hello,” Celia said, acting uncomfortable. James smiled back but said nothing.
“James,” Gayle bellowed to distract him. “Are you here for a reason or is this visit purely social?”
His face darkened. “Apologies. I am here for a very serious reason.”
“You wish to join my crew as its doctor,” Gayle fed him, hoping her words would spark his brain back into activity.
“I do.”
Gayle frowned as she scrutinized him further. “You appear to be affluent, James. What brings you here? What are you seeking? Surely not the life of a buccaneer.”
“I have traveled here from Bristol. What I seek is my sister, who was abducted by a sailor on a British vessel. I mean to get her back.”
“How?” Celia asked.
“I’m here to offer you my services as your ship’s surgeon. You need not even pay me. I simply ask that you help me follow this vile ruffian to Kingston, Jamaica, where he is headed with her. I am told they were here in New Providence but two days ago.”
Gayle studied this tall, somewhat pale man. His blond hair was immaculately coiffed, and his clothes were stylish and costly. He looked to be in his early thirties and was not offensive to the eye, but perhaps too fragile to enjoy life on the open sea. “What ship is she on?” She took another sip of mead.
“It was called the Pleiades.”
The name registered with Gayle immediately, and she struggled not to inhale the liquid into her lungs.
“Do you know it?” Celia asked.
“No.”
“What is it, then?”
“Pleiades,” Gayle repeated. “The name of the constellation also known as the Seven Sisters.”
Celia looked confused, then very disturbed. “Are you serious? Is that true?”
“Aye.”
“What was it the gypsy woman said exactly?” Celia asked.
“Something about a fallen woman taken by seven sisters.” Gayle turned to James. “Your sister,” she began hesitantly.
“Anne.”
“How was she nabbed?”
James took a deep breath. “Somehow she was among a group of courtesans that this horrid cur, this Captain Red McQueen, abducted.”
Gayle frowned. “I know the name. He’s a British slaver.” She shook her head in puzzlement. “I’m sorry, but where was your sister that she was among a group of prostitutes?”
James lowered his gaze sheepishly, focusing on the table. “A bordello,” he whispered.
“Is your sister a whore?” Celia asked loudly.
“Of course not,” he said defensively. “She was clearly a victim of misfortune and licentiousness.”
“We’re not even safe in our own whorehouses anymore,” Gayle remarked wryly. “What is this world coming to?”
“I assure you,” he insisted softly, peering around the room, “she was obviously duped, or there was some confusion afoot.”
Celia put her chin on her hand. “So your sister merely wandered into a whorehouse?”
Gayle made eye contact with her. “I’ve been known to wander into whorehouses from time to time.”
Celia bit her lower lip. “Hmm, good point.”
“It would certainly explain it,” she sai
d with a shrug.
“Though, were she truly a fallen woman—”
“It is a remarkable coincidence.”
“If that is what it is,” Celia added, “did the gypsy not say that I would soon have cause to believe what she had foretold?”
James looked as if the two of them had started speaking a foreign language. His eyes darted from one woman to the other.
“Aye, she did.”
“Where did you plan to travel next?” Celia queried.
“Well, if you remember correctly, I planned to take you back to your family in the Florida territory.”
“And if I told you I would rather search for the missing whore?”
“Hey,” shouted James, but neither Celia nor Gayle acknowledged him. “I told you, it’s simply a bungle.”
Gayle looked into Celia’s eyes and became lost in their azure depths. “I do need a surgeon.”
Celia grinned. “I would hate to live my life wondering how things would be different if I had listened to the fortune-teller.”
“Especially if her other prediction is true.” Gayle finally turned to James. “Welcome aboard Original Sin, Doctor. Once we careen, we’ll head straight to Jamaica.”
“Careen? How long will that take?”
“The better part of a day.”
“But they already have a two-day lead.”
“If we don’t careen, Doctor, the ship will never travel fast enough to make up the distance,” Gayle answered calmly before swallowing another mouthful of mead. “We need Original Sin to be as fast as possible.”
She watched Celia take another sip of wine. How did this woman manage to manipulate her so thoroughly? “We’d better send that message to your father to let him know you’re all right.”
Chapter Six
Before midnight arrived and Original Sin left the temptations of New Providence, Gayle stopped by to visit her father. Though she dared not let on to anyone else, she was still very worried that he might not survive, and she dreaded returning to the island to this news.
Additionally, she realized that her father’s recuperation was probably the only thing keeping her crew from mutiny. If he might not command Original Sin again, the crew would probably kill her, as they viewed women about as highly as animals or any other possession. While she had the chance, she had to prove her abilities as both a leader and a pirate. She had to provide well for the crew and make this voyage a complete success. Her very life would depend on it.
The Sublime and Spirited Voyage of Original Sin Page 5