“There are children!” Remy could not help but exclaim when she noticed a few children running about. They, too, were dirty and seemed to lack any concept of hygiene, but they were laughing and playing. “Where are their parents? Should they not be going home for supper?”
“Some children don’t have parents,” Nick reminded her. “They died and somehow ended up here. The children that don’t pass on, I believe, aren’t aware they are dead.”
Remy swallowed. How sad. To not know you were dead… She could not imagine it. They probably continued to wait for their parents each night, wondering where they were, why they did not return to take the children home. Those that had parents.
She pulled her eyes from the children and took in the small buildings. Many of them were competing taverns. She could smell the alcohol and hear the drunken laughter from where she was. Other buildings offered clothing and repairs, she passed by a blacksmith shop still open despite the setting sun. The roads were dirt, and as of yet, she had not seen one carriage pass by, which meant that all these people had to walk to get here.
“Where do they live?” Remy asked Nick in a hushed voice, just in case they overheard her and interpreted her question as insulting.
“Through there,” Nick replied, pointing deeper into town. “On the other side of the island. Some people don’t have homes and have to sleep wherever they can.”
Remy yelped, interrupting Nick’s speech. Three muddy pigs suddenly ran out in front of her and she grabbed onto Nick, afraid they would get her outfit even dirtier than it already was.
Nick threw his head back and laughed.
Once Remy had calmed herself down – she heard Calum and Giselle chuckling behind her – she glared at the pirate captain. “It is not funny,” she said.
“I disagree,” he replied.
Remy clenched her jaw and continued to look around. The deeper they got into town, the seedier the people seemed to be. Women in tight dresses with plunging necklines were trying to – well, Remy did not have to explain, did she? It was rather obvious they were soliciting men to pay for services rendered. Their faces were painted like war masks and Remy could see that they had no shame in flashing their ankles and calves if they felt the need to.
The men were no better. Any woman, despite shape, size, age, and color, that walked by were accosted by whistles or stares or sometimes an inappropriate grab. Remy realized that she was not an exception to this. Plenty of men stared at her as they walked through town, and she could not help but swallow once more, worried that any of these men might try something with her. She felt herself lean into Nick so her shoulder was touching his chest. Normally, she might have done anything to avoid his touch, but now she sought it out. She wanted to feel safe.
Nick looked down and, perhaps seeing the look on Remy’s face, decided to wrap his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him.
“Not to worry, love,” he told her in a low voice. “They will not bother you. Not if they don’t want to answer to me.” Before Remy could say something, his lips broke out into a smile. “Ah, we’re here! Darling, after you have been introduced to the Albatross, you will not want to go to any other tavern!”
Well, that was certainly true. To an extent.
Chapter 11
Remy had never been into a tavern before, but Charlie had, and he had told her all about it. Of course, Charlie never drank, but it was common for him to have to go down to one in order to get his drunken father. Apparently, taverns reeked of alcohol and smoke. There was no shame in the people that occupied the place, whether they were drunk or prostituting themselves. Many times, Charlie had to practically carry his father home because the older man could barely even stand on his own two feet, let alone walk without any aid. His father embarrassed Charlie by his frequenting of the taverns. Instead of taking care of his family, Mr. Harrison was apt to spend his wages on alcohol and sometimes even pleasurable company. Which, of course did not make sense to Remy, considering her was married to Charlie’s mother.
“There are certain things in this world that do not make sense, Remy,” Charlie had told her. “Things are not black and white, but rather grey. Keep a sharp eye and don’t let people fool you.”
He also told her that a tavern was no place for a girl like her, and she believed him.
Now, she could see why Charlie did not want anywhere near one of these vile places.
Like the majority of Tenedor, the Albatross was filled with people that could only be described as poor. Filthy would also be an apt word. However, that did not deter from the happy atmosphere that seemed to taint the tavern. Singing – though singing done off-key – filled Remy’s ears as Nick proceeded to head to the back of the surprisingly small building. Some people were doing a jig in the small space between the tables and bar, but Remy, from where she was, could not tell if the dancing couples were drunk or if they truly wanted to dance. She thought she heard someone playing a violin in an upbeat tempo – the music did not go along with whatever song it was the people were singing – but she could not make out the player. She was surprised by how crowded the tavern was, and more than that, how little space it offered its patrons. For a tavern that supposedly served the best rum in The Underworld, it was quite small. That, however, did not deter from its obvious popularity. All sorts of people were here; everyone from sailors to prostitutes, pirates and even a member of the Guard.
At least, that was what Remy assumed. He was in a formal-looking uniform, which he seemed to soiling currently given that there were not one but two women of the night occupying his lap.
Speaking of that particular occupation, it was not hard to discern Nick’s own favoritism among the nightly workers. Nearly each and every woman in the tavern had turned in order to watch Nick walk through the place until he reached his normal seat. Remy had never seen the glint in the women’s eyes; it was something feral, territorial. A hunger the young girl could not explain. The man was a pirate and dressed like a notch above a street beggar. Why would they be as animalistically attracted to him as these women seemed to be? There was nothing Nick could offer them; even if he wanted a woman to travel the sea with him, company while he did his transporting duties (though Remy had a feeling that that was highly unlikely, given by number of women looking at him), he could not take them aboard. Right? Did they not have to personally be invited by Nick and have some sort of lesson they needed to learn? If these women were still selling their bodies for profit, Remy doubted that they had any intention of learning their lesson in the near future.
Which was to obviously stop being a prostitute.
Her eyes caught sight of a secluded staircase pressed up against a wall leading up to a second floor. But why would a tavern need a second floor?
Remy turned her eyes from the crowd when Nick stopped in front of her. He was smiling – the gold in his mouth tinting off the multiple candles that kept the place lit and lively – as his brown eyes took in what was in front of him. It was nothing special, just a corner table with five unoccupied chairs surrounding it. There was a candle in the center of it, giving the table a slight glow, and surprisingly enough, the surface looked rather clean, as though no customers had yet occupied the space tonight.
Nick grabbed a nearby chair that nobody was using and brought it over. He looked at Remy and nodded his head in its direction, his long fingers wrapped around the back of it.
“I’m pulling out a chair for you,” he called over the low but constant noise that occupied the tavern. “Isn’t that what a gentleman does?” He lifted his brow.
“I do not remember,” Remy replied though it should be noted that she was struggling and failing at hiding the delighted smile that broke out onto her face. “I have been away from home too long to do so, but I shall let when you know when I do.”
Nick took the seat across from hers, his eyes shining as he smiled at her.
For whatever reason, Remy felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of it. Luckily Calum spoke so sh
e did not have to think about the reason why it did that.
“I’m going to get us a round,” he announced as Giselle took a seat next to Remy.
Remy opened her mouth in order to stop him, in order to say that she did not drink and preferred a water, but he had already disappeared amidst the crowd of people. Perhaps that was a good thing; judging by the look of this place, she was not sure a glass of water would actually be drinkable.
“How do you like it so far, darling?” Nick asked, leaning back in his chair. His fingers interlaced before he placed them behind his head, and his tri-corn tipped forward so it tilted down low across his face. If he had not spoken, it would appear almost as though he were going to sleep. Luckily the wall was just behind him so that if he leaned too far backward, he would not fall.
The thought of Nick falling was enough to make Remy smile.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Nick asked, his tone suspicious.
“How can you even see me?” Remy wanted to know. “Through your hat and your hair and everything.”
“I make it my business to see everything,” Nick returned with a coy smile of his own. “Why do you think my usual seat is one where I have a view of the entire tavern, hmm? You can’t be too careful in a place like this, you know.”
“No, I do not know,” Remy muttered under her breath.
At that moment, Calum returned with two mugs of rum, with a bar maid following him quickly with another two and, apparently, orders to bring two more once Edward and Adele arrived.
“How is that even possible?” Remy asked, incredulous. Her eyes dropped to her mug and she could not stop staring at it. “I saw how many people were crowded around, trying to get the woman’s attention. And it has probably been five minutes. At the most!”
“Darling, I’m not sure I can help you better understand,” Nick said, as he dropped his hands and leaned forward. He delicately wrapped his fingers around the handle of the mug and proceeded to gulp down its contents. The longer his lips stayed perched on the glass, the wider Remy’s mouth fell open. When he finished – or simply needed to breathe – Nick set the mug down and continued, “We are actually known here. I am the Transporter. My job is one of the most importance. My table is never used by anyone but me and me and my crew never have to wait in line.”
“Let me guess,” Remy said, eyeing her drink with obvious distaste. “These drinks are also free?”
Nick threw his head back and laughed. “If only,” he said.
“Let me ask you a question,” Remy said, pushing the mug away from her. She was starting to smell the vile thing and could not bear it any longer. “Where does the staircase over there” – she pointed behind her but had no clue as to whether her estimation of where it was located was anywhere close to where she was pointing – “lead to?”
“You don’t know?” Calum asked, a surprised look on his face. “You really are a young one, aren’t you?”
Though it was a fact that yes, Remy was younger than those in her company, it almost sounded as if Calum was insulting her.
“Don’t tease her,” Giselle said, nudging Calum with her shoulder. “Don’t listen to him, Remy. I’m sure you’ve never been inside a tavern before, have you?” When Remy shook her head no, Giselle nodded once. “I thought not. See, a lot of the times, taverns have a second story attached in order to persuade customers to pay extra so they can sleep here. Think of it like an inn, so to speak, but the service isn’t as grand and the rooms are dismal at best. But a sailor returning to land after a long period of time out at sea would probably jump at the chance to sleep on an actual bed, and not a hammock or a cot.”
“It’s also beneficial for them to offer rooms because,” Calum said, “as you can see, the whores are not wonting here and a man who has been away in a ship without female accompaniment would pay an extrodinary price for hot food, rum, an actual bed, and a night of pleasure with a decent looking woman.”
“That’s very crude,” Giselle told him in a low, reprimanding voice.
“It’s also the truth,” Calum replied.
“Yes, but do you have to put it like that?”
“How else am I supposed to put it?”
“Perhaps, maybe, if you” –
Nick interrupted the bickering couple by asking Remy a question. Giselle and Calum took no notice of it, however, and continued to argue.
“Why don’t you try some of your drink?” he asked, jutting his chin out in the drink’s direction.
Remy snorted, surprising even herself. No respectable lady snorted. Although, she was not actually in respectable company, was she? And she could not necessarily help it, what with Nick’s ridiculous question. It was simply a natural reaction.
But… did a lady always have to act like a lady, no matter what sort of company she was in or could she feel free to be more relaxed? She was not actually wearing a corset or a dress, and the last time she washed herself had to be two days ago at the very least. She knew that she probably did not look very much like a lady. But she knew that she should probably continue to act like one. She might not be able to control her appearance, what with the lack of hygienic opportunities she was afforded on a ship, but she could control her actions.
Which meant no more snorting for her.
She could not believe she actually let it slip in the first place.
“Perhaps that’s not the greatest idea, Nick,” Giselle said. “I doubt that she has eaten anything today. Alcohol won’t sit well with her, especially since she’s not used to drinking it and has an empty stomach. It would no doubt make her sick.”
Nick gave Giselle a droll look, as though he were upset she had just ruined all of his fun, but nodded his head. He turned his attention back to Remy, who currently had a triumphant smirk on her face. “Are you hungry, darling?” he asked her. “Some food to go with that drink?”
“I would prefer a salad, actually,” Remy answered, “but I don’t plan to consume any of this.” She gestured at the mug.
“A salad?” Nick asked with an amused smile.
“What is wrong a salad?” Remy demanded, immediately narrowing her eyes.
“Nothing,” Calum answered, “as long as you don’t mind rotting vegetables and inedible dressing.”
“I absolutely do not prefer those things.”
“Then you should probably stick with bread,” Nick suggested. “It’s practically the only thing they make that’s decent.”
“I’ll grab some,” Giselle offered.
AS she left, Calum leaned back in order to better keep an eye on the blonde woman as she made way through the crowd. Remy pressed her lips together in order to keep a knowing smile from crossing onto her lips. Obviously he fancied her; it was clear in the way he looked at her. She wondered if Giselle felt the same.
To Remy, a man must be polite and gentle, respectful and successful. Calum and Giselle – sweet Giselle – were constantly at odds with one another. Remy could not imagine constantly bickering with a man she supposedly loved, and would not stand for a man who said some of the things Calum had said to Giselle. Not that they were mean, per se, but they were blunt. Honest. And not in a nice way.
She also preferred a potential suitor to be law-abiding as well, but she supposed that that was not a viable option here. Unless one was acquainted with the Guard, whatever that was.
Remy suddenly straightened, realizing that the only suitors she would be acquainted with were the same Giselle and Adele were acquainted with; Remy was down in The Underworld – it did not matter that she was technically still alive, which meant that unless a miracle occurred and she was sent back home, the only men she would encounter were pirates and thieves and run-down miscreants. Unless she met with the Guard, of course.
But there was absolutely no way Remy would fall in love down here. In fact, there was not a man she considered a suitable match for her. Nick was certainly handsome in a dirty sort of way, but he was a pirate captain and apparently wanted for crimes he particip
ated in down here, despite his transporting responsibilities. And she could not stand him. He had no problem arguing with her about practically everything and did treat her like the lady she was. She nearly laughed at the thought that she and Nick would ever be together in that way. Over her dead body.
James… She got shivers just thinking about him and she was not certain whether they good shivers or bad ones. He was the most handsome man he had ever seen – those piercing blue eyes still paralyzed her even now – but there was something frightening about him. She could not put her finger on it, but if Nick was to be believed, James was bad. Of course, Nick could be biased, and Remy was nearly certain that he was, but she did trust Nick. And even if James was not all bad, he already seemed to have his affection occupied by that Magdalena girl, and Remy did not believe in participating in adultery.
No, Remy probably was not going to meet the man she would later marry in a gathering place for people who had already died. She would just have to wait until she got back home, and hopefully, that would be sooner rather than later.
It was not long before Giselle returned with a basket of warm bread. The aroma tantalized Remy’s nose and she was surprised to find that unlike nearly everything in the Albatross, the bread was fresh. However, she waited until she saw Nick reach over and take a piece before putting it in his mouth. After he swallowed, Remy scrutinized him. He did not appear sick…
Unable to wait any longer, Remy grabbed three pieces of bread and all but shoved one down her throat.
Goodness, she was hungry.
“I brought you water as well,” Giselle said, nudging a mug Remy had not seen.
“Thank you!” Remy exclaimed, her mouth still full.
Immediately, Remy blushed. She was not acting like the lady she claimed to be, was she? And yet, she expected to be treated as one. She began chewing, but slowed down and kept her mouth closed this time.
Death in Neverland: Book 1 in The Neverland Trilogy (The Neverland Series) Page 11