A Pirate’s Wife
Revised Version
By
Lynelle Clark
Copyright 2012 by Lynelle Clark
The Pirate’s Wife
Cover Design by Truth Designs
License Notes
This e book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons alive or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Dedication
To all the authors who inspired me over the years of reading allowing me a moment of joy exploring their Worlds of imagination. Especially Ena Murray a well known South African writer through my growing years. The motivation for this book. Her stories left me breathless and always wanting for more.
I also want to thank my husband putting up with me and literally did all the house hold chores so that I could write. You are a blessing.
My children I love you guys.
To Mary C. Findley who helped with the proof reading and polishing of this, my first book. All the mails send between us, her patience and knowledge to improve the read much more. What a blessing you have become.
To learn more about the author visit
https://www.facebook.com/Aspiredwriter2012?ref=hl
https://lynelleclarkaspiredwriter.blogspot.com/
https://twitter.com/LynelleClark1
https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/8713879-lynelle-clark
or contact her at: [email protected]
Contents
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Contact Details
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Authors History
Proverbs 1:1-33
The proverbs of Solomon, son of David, king of Israel: To know wisdom
and instruction, to understand words of insight, to receive instruction in wise
dealing, in righteousness, justice, and equity; to give prudence to the
simple, knowledge and discretion to the youth— Let the wise hear and
increase in learning, and the one who understands obtain guidance, ...
Prologue
It was Christmas of 1623 when six people stepped onto the dock at the harbour of Lisbon, Portugal. It was a cloudless, sunny day with a definite bite of cold in the air. People scattered around the harbour, pulling jackets tight to keep body heat in, each busy with luggage, hauling crates off various colossal wooden hull ships. Each had three masts rigged with sail and heavy tackle and supplies, ready for trade to new destinations. Sailors shouted to each other, in anger or in banter, in their usual sailor dialect, accompanied by loud and heavy thuds as the gigantic ships were either unloaded or reloaded, depending if they had arrived or were departing on a new course.
In between the shouting of the sailors, animals bellowed, clucked or whinnied, waiting for attention. Everyone raced to finish so that they could go to the already awaiting soiled doves waving seductively to the tired but aroused sailors. Their half-clad bodies teased men hungry for female companionship after six months or more at sea.
No one gave the group of six passing by much thought, because they looked like ordinary citizens. Led by a tall blond man, the two women of the group were attracting a few lustful looks of unwanted characters. The men protected them though, guiding them through the throng to a waiting carriage ready to take them to their destination.
They had lost everything of earthly value but discovered who they were as people, as human beings. They were survivors of the vast untamed land of Africa, overcoming the greatest odds against them, gaining new friends and unlikely love. The company consisted of the giant blond sailor and his old sailor friend, the Contessa who held a little girl by the hand, the sea captain, and a slave girl. Bone weary, they entered the carriage. The blond giant closed the door behind them, tapping on the roof to signal the coach driver to move.
He wrapped the frail body of the beautiful black-haired Contessa Qonchita in his steely arms. Rosa-Lee, the little girl, slept in her mother’s arms. The gentle giant gazed at her with so much love and adoration. One thick finger caressed the soft pink cheek of the little girl he had accepted as his own. Cisco thought back to where their journey had begun.
Two years ago they had embarked on a voyage from India to Portugal, a supposedly easy and hassle-free voyage. But it had tested their endurance and their faith in the Hand of Providence and in each other.
†††
September 12, 1621
We have finally arrived on the ship Armando on our long-awaited journey. Five years I stayed in this hell hole. Finally I am leaving, a disillusioned wife and mother. Rosa-Lee is the only highlight of it all, born out of abuse, but a shining beacon in my life.
The sea seemed to be calm enough and Captain Laurenco Breno assured us that our voyage would be without problems. How he could make this statement was beyond me, since the ocean could change instantly.
I didn’t like the man’s beady eyes, his expression cold and stormy, with a glimmer of evil in the black depths. His lustful eyes raked over me and I felt violated by this act. I had to stop myself from shivering in front of this obnoxious man, and will keep my distance the entire trip.
Rosa-Lee made a friend today. It was the first time I saw her openly speaking to an older man as she did to the giant sailor, with such familiarity. I hope we don’t bring him any trouble. The look of disdain from the captain towards the blond sailor was undeniably menacing.
I never saw such a big man. His tanned, hard body stretched his white cotton shirt, his height towering over all on the boat including Faro, who is not short at all. But he was kind to Rosa-Lee, humble in his approach. Careful, maybe, with only a slight smile on the handsome face caused by her continuous chatter. There is something different in him. I find myself standing close to observe him better, something I have never done with any man, not even my own husband. Faro calls me “ice princess” and I like to I keep it that way.
I hope I can see the sailor again.
Qonchita shut the old leather-bound diary, set the pen down, and crept under the soft blankets of the bed in the cabin appointed to her and Rosa-Lee, already in a deep sleep. She brushed the dark locks of her daughter and kissed the rosy cheeks.
“I love you,” she whispered to the small child, and lying back she prayed softly for a safe voyage.
†††
September 12, 1621
New people boarded the ship today: a man and his wife and their young child. The chatter of the little girl was interesting to say the least. I never thought I would love this so much. What would the fellows say if they hear about this? Big Cisco Almaida falling for a little girl like that.
She stood next to her mother, a stunning woman with dark hair and dark smouldering eyes. The eyes were shadowed as if to hide something deeper. She was not happy, even if she was married to the rich merchant. Faro Iago’s reputation preceded him. How could she be married to that s
coundrel, who was so far beneath her? The man clearly did not appreciate her or his daughter.
How many times have I wished for a wife and child of my own? Like this man had. After nineteen years on this ship it was only a dream, but the little girl did something today. She touched a very deep desire for a family of my own. Maybe even a piece of land where I could retire. An impossible dream for any hardened sailor.
Can I be so bold to continue this dream?
Cisco sighed and closed his eyes. The hammock swayed with the gentle movements of the ocean. A sway he hardly noticed anymore. He touched his fingers to his forehead, then to each side of his chest, and prayed silently to the God he had learned to trust above anything else.
†††
Trapped in a marriage arranged by her father with a cold-hearted older man, Faro Iago, Qonchita had no way to escape. The business transaction had been profitable to both parties. Faro did not care for her or for his four-year-old daughter. The fragile lady admired Cisco. Since they had boarded Faro Iago had made a beeline for the captain’s cabin which housed the best of everything, including fine whiskey.
Immediately drawn to the gentle giant, the little girl, spitting image of her mother, accepted him first as a friend, and then as her new father. Daily Rosa-Lee would seek him out; with Qonchita always close by and under much scrutiny of Captain Breno.
†††
September 13, 1621
Again we spent time with Cisco today. Rosa-Lee simply cannot leave him alone. At first he was reluctant to encourage her, tending to his work at hand. But her constant chatter put a smile on his face and by lunch he talked to her softly. I could see his eyes were always seeking the captain.
I found Faro with some of the sailors gambling and it made me uneasy but I said nothing to him and spent my time with Rosa-Lee.
There are quite a number of people on the ship. I understand we are three hundred and forty eight people in all, with slaves numbering two hundred. The Captain told me it was quite a large number but bragged his vessel was capable of carrying the load.
With the slaves in confinement in the hold of the ship the deck is not overcrowded but I wonder how they fair down there in this heat.
I can only hope that we will be well and that the Lord’s protection will be with us daily.
†††
September 14, 1621
The little girl’s continuous chatter and seeking me out are getting me in trouble. The Captain warned me today for the final time. He is within his rights of course. As a sailor I know this. But how can I ignore her? She is a pleasure to have around. And her mother (he smiled thinking of the raven-head) is gorgeous but I have to keep my distance. I can see she is interested as well but this could never be. She is married, a lady of good means. I am just a sailor. I can offer her nothing.
But I can dream, even if it is futile. I know it is silly but the feelings she invokes in me make me feel worthy to love and to dream of a family of my own.
Alfonso warned me that the men are talking, that they have seen the looks we give each other. I don’t want to bring her trouble. She is too much of a lady for riff-raff to speak of her in that fashion.
I will have to keep my distance. I should work on the mast where the little girl cannot find me. I will have to speak to Tanur tomorrow.
†††
September 15, 1621
Cisco was on the mast today. Never once did he come down from there to speak with Rosa-Lee. Even when she called out to him he did not look at her. I could see that it hurt her but I had to explain to her that he has to do his work. He is a sailor and cannot spend time with her.
But I do miss him.
Faro tried to talk to us today, but he was drinking and Rosa-Lee was scared of him. He swayed on his feet, his eyes bloodshot. I heard there was trouble with the game and the Captain warned him to be careful around the sailors.
I saw some of the slaves today. Met a young Indian girl. Her name is Kayla. We got to talk for a while before she had to go back into the hold. Rosa-Lee also liked her. She was very beautiful and several sailors looked at her. I was uneasy at her common flirting with them while we talked. In the future I will be careful of her and the company she keeps.
†††
September 16, 1621
I bumped into the lady today. It was by pure accident since I keep my distance, but when I touched her I could not let her go. After the initial shock passed and she realized who held her she relaxed in my arms. For a few seconds I could only enjoy the lady in my arms. She fits perfectly. She is more beautiful up close. I had to struggle not to kiss her and I could see she wanted me to. That would be a mistake.
I know it is wrong but I cannot help myself. The feelings I have for her are growing daily. I will have to work harder to avoid her as much as possible. A sailor and a lady are absolutely unsuited. It can never happen.
†††
September 16, 1621
I cannot believe I was in his arms today. He smelled of the ocean, clean and fresh. He was strong and enormous in size but I fit perfectly. Those seconds were wonderful, I wish I could have more. It felt so right, although it was wrong.
My heart nearly beat out of my chest and I wished he had kissed me but he was right. It could never happen. I am a married woman.
There is no future for us.
†††
September 17, 1621
What is that woman up to? Today I walked hand in hand with Rosa-Lee on the upper deck and Kayla was there. She spoke with Cisco. My Cisco, her hand on his arm. Did he welcome it? Oh Please God. Don’t let him turn out to be just another man who wants to bed me, only to run off again. I cannot take that.
Rosa-Lee wrapped herself around his leg the moment she saw him. The Captain was not pleased. I saw the fury raging in his eyes. Then I saw the pleading in Cisco’s eyes before he looked away.
I removed her from him immediately, but that left him in the presence of Kayla and for some reason the woman laughed at me. I am a lady of noble birth, my upbringing beyond reproach. Am I now in contest with a slave?
For the love of a sailor.
†††
September 18, 1621
This day started so well and ended in disaster.
The look in the Captain’s eyes said so much. And then there is the lady. She found me talking to that slave girl. She merely walked up to me and started to introduce herself to me while she placed her hand on my arm. She looked at me as if I were her last hope.
I saw the disappointment, the hurt on the lady’s face. But I could not talk to her. To make matters worse the little girl refused to let go of me and cried when the mother took her away. Captain Breno saw everything and his eyes spit fire.
I have been warned. What will happen tomorrow?
†††
September 19, 1621
Today was an unpleasant day on the ship. The Captain worked Cisco almost to death. I heard the men talking. He received no water or food for the day and under the scorching sun it had to be unbearable. I wanted to offer him water at least but another sailor stopped me.
Cisco avoided me and Rosa-Lee cried.
The Captain and Faro sneered down at him while they talked about me, as if I am a common whore. How could Faro do this to me? I felt so ashamed. Some of the sailors laughed at me. The man who stopped me asked me to leave the deck because I would make matters worse for Cisco. It was hard to leave him there. Tired, thirsty and lonely.
Rosa-Lee cried once again when I took her below and when I passed the compartment in the hull where the slaves were held Kayla laughed openly at me.
I felt betrayed at her actions.
It is all my fault. I cannot give in and make matters worse for him.
I explained to my four-year-old daughter but I doubt she understood. She missed Cisco. That was all there was to it. But I will have to watch her.
I cannot allow him to suffer on account of us.
†††
; September 21, 1621
Today Alfonso, Cisco’s friend, the man who stopped me when I wanted to offer him water, helped us to have a few minutes of privacy on the deck.
It was short but worth it. I simply had to see him. I had to know if he was okay. The last two days the captain made him slave away while everyone snickered behind his back. How could they do this to this man?
He is a gentle, kind and loving man. How could they treat him like that? But I had to make sure he was okay. I had to, before I would finally let go of him.
I begged him to kiss me and at first he was hesitant. I pressed myself against him and turned my face upward, stretching as high as I could. He was so tall that even if I stood on my tiptoes I could not reach his face. For a long minute he fought it. I saw the hesitation, the fight for control, but eventually he lowered his head and we kissed for the first time. It was everything I hoped it would be. That one kiss held promises of a future we both knew was futile to hope for. But that kiss told me what he felt.
He felt the same. His breath was warm on my face as his eyes raked over mine. He did not conceal the look of love as he whispered my name. It all told me that he felt the same way.
In that few minutes we allowed ourselves the time to dream, to hope, to love.
I love him. The emotion swept me from my feet, but I was not startled about it. It was a peace that settled deep within me and I know that this is the man I have lost my heart to.
I have no remorse in loving Cisco Almaida.
†††
September 21, 1621
It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have kissed her. But how can I resist the one woman I truly love? She loves me. That was the most pleasurable wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. This lady, a woman of noble birth, loves me, an ordinary sailor man.
She was worried about me. She kept on repeating that she would do whatever she could to make my life easier. But we both know it was a not to be.
Captain Breno is a stern and vicious man. He seldom listens to anyone. Nor does he take advice from a woman, even one as highborn as Qonchita.
What a beautiful name. It suits her. In my arms today she was far from the “ice queen” others have called her.
I love her.
†††
September 22, 1621
Rosa-Lee was hard to control today and with all the strength she had she fought against me to be with Cisco. I could not blame her. That is where I want to be. In his arms. I can still feel them around me; still feel the touch of his lips.
When she got away from me she ran up to him and held him as if her life depended on it. She refused to let go, even with gentle urging from him. She cried so loud that it drew everyone’s attention. Captain Breno made it plain he was not impressed with her innocent display. When I finally did get her away I pleaded for Cisco’s life. I was sure the vicious man was going to do something to him. But he said he would not harm his own crew.
I really hoped that was the case. But when I tried to get Cisco’s attention he refused to look at me. I am afraid for him.
Faro made an attempt after that to console Rosa-Lee, but she was so scared of him that she sobbed and panicked to get away. He was not pleased about her open disdain towards him. He slapped her and dropped her on the deck. Every eye was on us. I felt so ashamed.
Alfonso came and helped me with her and led me to our cabin. Cisco disappeared and Faro went back to the Captain’s cabin, no doubt.
The next day I heard the rumours that some of the slave girls entertained them during the night. One woman, robust and ample in her curves, sneered at me today. High and mighty, she looked down at me as if I am beneath her.
Her dress revealed everything. Her yellow teeth were a sharp contrast against her pale skin. She reeked of alcohol and tobacco, Faro’s favorite vices besides women. No doubt she was one of the favorites.
How could he embarrass me like this? He has no respect for me or Rosa-Lee.
I saw Kayla again, briefly. She looked down at me and refused to speak to me. What I did to her I don’t know.
†††
September 22, 1621
I cannot believe what I saw today. The captain flogged Cisco like an animal. My heart was ripped in pieces as I watched in horror, that giant of a man sprawled out against the ropes and flogged like a common criminal.
They all laughed and joked about him, and like the man I know he is, he took it silently. His skin split open as blood seeped from his wounds. He was covered in his own blood from the shoulders down. How could he endure it?
I tried to run to him but someone held me back.
Sobs wracked through me as he arched in pain when the salt water splashed over him. He roared in agony and four men carried him away. He was limp between them. He had to be unconscious. When I wanted to go to him the captain refused my request.
How can I sit here and know that he is in pain? I must do something.
I need to find away.
I am just glad that Rosa-Lee did not witness this brutality.
My heart aches for her and for him. She searched for him all day but I simply had no heart to tell her the truth. It would break her heart.
†††
September 23, 1621
Finally Alfonso managed to get me to Cisco. When I reached him he had a high fever. I brought some ointment and tended his wounds. He was delirious, calling out my name. I made him as comfortable as I could. For a long time I sat next to him and watched as he slept. Several times I calmed him down when the fever-induced dreams made him want to get out of the bed. The moment I spoke to him and told him how much I love him he was peaceful and slept. I wanted to stay but Alfonso convinced me it would not be wise for the captain to find me there.
At least I know he will be all right tonight. Alfonso promised me he will stay close and let me know if anything changes.
I miss Cisco.
†††
September 26, 1621
Today the sea was stormy. The clouds formed over us, dark and menacing. But at least Cisco is better. He had his first meal in three days. Alfonso assured me he would be all right. I could only see him for short intervals in the last few days. Alfonso guarded the door at all times.
Cisco is strong. I know that. But I cleaned and tended the wounds the best I could.
Soon he will be up. I actually loved this time. I could attend to him and touch him often. I know I love him. Somehow I will find a way to be with him always.
But I must admit the weather has me worried. Even the captain is not his usual confident self. I really hope the ship will hold up.
It took a while to get Rosa-Lee to sleep. The motion of the ship where more fierce than what we are used to. It rolls from side to side, the upper decks swaying into the waves. My stomach churns with every motion.
Oh Lord, keep us safe. Help us to find a way to be together.
1
December 25, 1623
It has been two years since our journey of survival began in Africa. Two years since I have written anything down in my diary, the only book I was able to save on that hopeless night of September 29, 1621.
But before I capture those terrible events, I want to pen down my love’s reaction to the estate we will be living in for the rest of our lives.
In the end it became possible for us to be together. The price was high but we have survived and I know with Cisco at my side I can face anything else.
As a Christmas gift I gave him full ownership of my estate. It has been handed down from generation to generation of Artiagas. I knew he would be the perfect land owner to continue the legacy my family started, and that my inheritance was safe.
When Rosa-Lee climbed on his lap to give him a big wet kiss he smiled down at her and gave her a bear hug. The last few days he had been extremely emotional. We both felt a deep compassion for him. I feel proud to know this man, my husband, Cisco Almaida. When I handed him the papers he was shocked. Disbelief shone clear in the blue depths o
f his eyes. He had the same expression when we first arrived two days ago.
He could not believe the large estate or the castle, built by my great-great grandfather all those years ago.
When we arrived Cisco only stared at the estate, the manicured gardens and lawns only yellow due to the cold weather, and I had to encourage him to step into the castle as man of the house. This was more than he ever dreamed of. His mind was stunned and dumbfounded at the magnitude of the riches he faced.
I had told him about the place, to prepare him, but I knew he would only appreciate it fully when he saw it.
He stood in the enormous foyer of the castle and gaped in awe. The magnificent wooden staircase spiralled to the upper levels. The black and white marble tiles gleamed in the late sunlight. Fires were already laid all through the house, for which we were grateful. The staff had done a magnificent work in maintaining the place while we were gone.
He felt overwhelmed by it all until Rosa-Lee reached for his hand and walked with him to the parlour with its exquisite furniture, tapestries and golden framed paintings of past generations. She chattered nonstop, even if it was her first visit. But the difference was she is used to these riches and he was not.
After we settled in, he walked the estate over the next two days, and I showed him the inheritance. Surrounded with a rapid-flowing river with tree lines on both sides, the castle looked impressive, built out of stones and brick, standing three stories tall in the Portugal sun. Each room was filled with generations worth of treasures; heavy hand crafted furniture, art, and family portraits, tapestries bought in India, China, Spain and Africa, rich in colour, hung on the walls.
At first, he could not comprehend the papers, or his new title as land owner. He struggled for words this morning, but accepted the responsibilities as property owner. This was a difficult time for Portugal. The country was in a transitional phase and landowners were often unfair dictators. But I knew he was wise and would treat his people with respect and kindness. He would give them what was fair, distributing our wealth for the benefit of all.
Cisco is willing to learn. His good, kind heart draws people closer. Already he and Franco, the manager of the estate, have a close friendship. His first lesson was to learn to ride his horse, another present from Rosa-Lee. She was so excited when the horse was presented to him that she giggled with pure joy. His face lit up in childlike wonder at the powerfully-muscled black stallion. When he approached the animal the horse responded in like fashion. It took us a while to get him back in the house.
What a delight the day has been. Alfonso will leave soon on the ship Cisco received from the D.E.I.C. for his brave efforts during the last two years. Kayla and Derek will leave for their new home in Spain and the house will become ours alone. There are so many things I still want to show him. I can hardly wait.
But tonight I will give him his greatest gift when I reveal my pregnancy to him. I just know this will leave him speechless.
†††
It was the year 1641 on the south coast of Portugal. The lone figure of a young woman looked over the vast blue sea. A breeze rippled playfully on the water’s surface. To her it spelt trouble, haunting her thoughts with what if’s, reliving the past as if it were just yesterday, crystal clear in her mind. Every day for the last two weeks she had looked at the horizon, hoping to see her father’s well-known merchant ship with his ensign flag appear. But there was no sign. The foreboding feelings accumulated again within her heart, making her anxious and troubled.
While she waited she read her parents” diaries, a present for her eighteenth birthday, and her most treasured possessions in the whole world, for the umpteenth time. The leather-bound books were soft under her touch, the papers already yellowing. She had read them so often that she knew them by heart, but still they evoked in her a sense of belonging. They held her past but also her future. At twenty-four she knew her future would be colourful and beautiful. She felt safe when reading the pages, and knew if they had made it, she would make it as well.
Coming on the ship was her eagerly-awaited younger brother, only sixteen years of age. He had been so excited about his first voyage as a sailor that they could hardly stay in the same house with him. Their father had taught them all about the sea since they could understand and walk.
He had taught them to read the stars at night, to read charts, navigating their own way. He sent them on the ship for countless lessons; lessons they never tired of.
Pedro always had a bigger love for the sea. He was more like their father in his kind-heartedness, and was a gentle giant with dark blond hair. He was more excited about the lifestyle of a sailor, exploring new countries, loving the openness of the seas. Their father told the stories of his adventures and especially the time she, Rosa-Lee, and their mother had met him. He was still a sailor then, and the tale included the two years it took them to get back to Portugal after leaving India, where their journey had begun and Rosa-Lee had been born.
As a birthday gift, her father had given Pedro the position of cabin boy to Captain Alfonso, his good friend, to go out to India. He went away for seven months, and by her father’s calculations, he should have already been back.
Her other brother Manuel was the farmer. He inherited the love of the land and its people from his mother. He also looked like their father in build, but his skin and hair were darker, like Rosa-Lee’s and her mother’s. Manuel had a gentle and caring heart that made him loveable and accessible to the villagers.
At the tender age of eighteen, he was already a leader. The people looked up to him and along with their father he built up the estate and expanded the business.
Rosa-Lee knew that this delay in Pedro’s safe return was hard on her mother and father. Not knowing his whereabouts was difficult but they could only remain calm, waiting. The mood tensed in their home as her father paced the passageways of the castle, anxious and nervous.
Finally, on Sunday afternoon of the second week, Rosa-Lee saw sails heading their way. Shading her eyes, she squinted as she watched the sails coming nearer to the shore at a tormentingly slow rate. Rosa-Lee could now see that it was the Contra O Vento. The smaller frigate usually accompanied the merchant ship as extra security. It was faster and streamlined, not her father’s bulky merchant ship.
Dread filled her heart as she watched the sailors running around on the deck, furling the sails to dock in the harbour. The ensign on the top of the main mast certainly was her father’s crest. Cisco Almaida was a merchant working for the D.E.I.C. He received his first ship eighteen years ago after serving at the sea for nineteen years as a sailor. It was a reward for his bravery and leadership during that fatal voyage where her biological father had passed away along with two hundred and sixty four crewmembers, slaves and passengers.
Gathering the cream fabric of her skirt in her hands she ran down the road to the harbour to meet the captain of the ship she recognized. She was hoping that it would be good news about her brother but the sense of dread did not leave her small body as her chestnut hair streamed behind her, her small oval face wary and troubled.
The months of waiting in anticipation of Pedro had been too long. They stayed a close-knit family, especially Mother, Father and herself, but the two boys who had not yet had adventures did not understand the dangerous side of sailing ships. It sounded foreign and distant to them, just stories they had heard all their lives. But Rosa-Lee and her parents knew how quickly things could change on the sea. They had lived on it and had survived its worst.
Pedro was still very young, inexperienced about life.
Rosa-Lee’s dress whipped against her legs as she ran down the shoreline into the town, her lungs burning with the unusual exercise. Today she did not see the splendour of the sea or land, the birds flying just over the top of her head. She did not notice the familiar faces, townspeople who waved at her and flashed toothy smiles. She just wanted to find out any news. With only the Contra O Vento coming in she was worried.
When
she reached the berth, the captain stood on the bridge at the side, peering through the tackle works, deep in thought. As the plank lowered onto the pier she had a sinking feeling that something was very wrong; that life as she knew it is about to change.
“Captain, any news?” she shouted.
Visible sorrow marked the older man’s tanned face along with tired lines from long and hard days on the sea.
“Yes child, I have news, but it is not good news, I am afraid.” With short, uneven steps he descended the plank. His normally immaculate dress was crinkled and filthy; a grey, unkempt beard shadowed his thin cheek bones.
As he reached her he swallowed, avoiding her at first, and then reached for her hands, his voice filled with sorrow.
“You will have to be very strong for your parents.” He patted her hands as if to comfort her. “This news is not good. Come, let us go to them. I will speak to all of you.” Panic gripped Rosa-Lee’s heart.
What can be so terrible? She looked up at him. Captain Jean le Blanc was around her father’s age with dark blue eyes and black hair, grey visible all around his head. Normally he was a very proud man, shoulders straight, his voice strong as a captain’s should be. Now he walked as if he were in pain, sounding out of breath and speaking as if it gave him great pain to talk. Looping her hand in his arm, she walked next to him, supporting him. She tried to convince him to talk to her, to find out more detail but he was silent all the way.
As they walked away, dark ochre eyes framed in thick black lashes followed them with a curious fixation on the chestnut-coloured head of the young woman and the bodice of the cream dress clinging to her body, outlining it perfectly. The owner of the eyes squinted the left one as he framed the small waist in the air with his fingers, and thought, Perfect.
Jumping down off a barrel in one swift motion, he followed them at a slow pace. Staying in the shadows, he pulled his black hat low over his eyes and wrapped a heavy black cloak around his lean body to conceal any identifying features of his clothing. His silver sword sheathed alongside his narrow hip thudded against a knee-height black boot.
†††
As they walked to the castle Captain Jean’s pace was slow, as if he had to think about each step he took, and he still sounded out of breath.
“Are you well, Captain?” Concerned, Rosa-Lee’s dark brown eyes rested on him.
“Yes, dear, I will be fine once we reach your father’s house.” He gave her a sloppy smile.
“Can’t I get the carriage? It will be more comfortable.”
“No, dear, we are almost there. I am use to hardships. Don’t worry about me.” Patting her hand as she held onto him, the captain looked ghastly.
As they reached the castle, he hesitated to go through the heavy doors but continued, sweat pearling on his forehead, definitely weaker from the walk, breathless and pale.
Finally, standing before her father, he handed him a letter. With shaking hands he said,
“Cisco, my dear friend.” He clipped every word, taking a breath between each. “I don’t know how to give this news to you.” Shame filled his countenance as Rosa-Lee squeezed his hand, and his smile at her was grim.
“I feel I have failed you, not only as a friend, but as an employee.”
Cisco reached out to his friend, troubled sombreness on his face, taking the letter, first looking at the white, folded sheet, then back at his friend.
“Jean what is going on? Are you in pain? Come, sit down, my friend.”
As her father helped Captain Jean sit down Rosa-Lee saw that blood seeped beneath his jacket from his upper leg and dripped onto the tiled floor.
“Father! The captain is wounded, look!” she cried out in distress, kneeling in front of him and spreading the jacket. His black pants were stained with blood, the metallic scent filling their noses.
Cisco put the letter down and reached him in one stride. He crouched next to Rosa-Lee, his towering body warm and reassuring and his voice steady.
“Let me look at that leg.” his piercing eyes dropped first to his friend’s leg then stared up at him.
“What has happen to you, Jean?”
“It is a long story, my friend. I don’t know if I will be able to tell you. It hurts me too much. I have failed you, you and your family.”
“How did you fail me, Jean? You don’t make any sense. Calm down and tell us what is going on. Is it about Pedro? And where is Alfonso?”
“Yes, it is Pedro, and I hope he is still alive. When I left him at the Isle of Saint Marie, he was barely alive. Alfonso died trying to defend Pedro from being captured by the pirates.”
They could hear the sharp intake of breath as Qonchita walked in. They all paled.
“What about Pedro and pirates?” She looked at Cisco, panic filling her dark brown eyes. “Cisco, what is going on?”
She looked at her husband and then at Jean, who was very pale, drops of blood forming a pool at his booted foot.
“Rosa-Lee, please send for the doctor at once, dear,” said Qonchita. She stayed calm as she knelt before their friend.
“Yes, mother.” Rosa-Lee rushed out the door and straight into the arms of Franco, their horse-handler.
“Franco, we need the doctor here at once! Please get him. There is no time to waste!”
“Yes, ma’am!” Franco’s stallion stood nearby grazing. He was a dark brown colour with long legs, extremely fast, his muscles well defined, rippling under his shiny coat. When Franco called his name, his ears perked to full attention. With a whinny he was ready for action. Franco pulled himself-into the saddle with one hand. Horse and man moved as one as they race down the gravel road, dust swirling around them.
Rosa-Lee returned to the living room where her mother and father still stood at Captain Jean’s chair. He was even paler than before and her parents looked worried. Her mother held a cloth on the leg, trying to stop the bleeding, pale with worry.
Her father held the letter with shaking hands and as she stepped closer, his right arm fell to his side. The letter, open in his hand, shook as grey pallour covered his face.
“Father, what is wrong?”
Her father did not say anything; her mother covered her face in her hands, sobbing. The cloth fell on the floor and a dark stain formed, unnoticed. Rosa-Lee reached for the letter still clutched in her father’s big hand and began to read. The more she read, the angrier she got.
Cisco Almaida
It is a shame that we must meet under these circumstances, for I have heard about your bravery over the years; but a man must make a living. Consider this a business transaction.
I have your youngest son, Pedro, in my custody at the Isle of Saint Marie. He assured me that you are a wealthy man and can pay me a healthy ransom for his release.
For your son’s release I demand 2000 in gold coins by the end of four months or he will be dead. It will all depend on how quickly you can deliver.
He talked about his lovely sister so often. Let her bring it. I can use some feminine company.
Do not try anything. I did send my second-in-command with your Captain Jean to watch over all the proceedings and to make sure Rosa-Lee comes along.
His life is in your hands.
The Falcon
“How dare he?” She lifted the paper in the air, perplexed, angry, and bitter at this unknown Falcon. As her hand dropped, still trembling, she looked at her parents with blazing eyes. She had to read the letter twice to understand the contents. The more she read, the angrier she grew.
“How dare he?” she spat out.
“You have to leave tomorrow morning early. Otherwise you will not make the deadline,” Captain Jean gasped. “His second-in-command is his son, a ruthless and cunning man. It was he who wounded me before I got off the ship, to make sure I would deliver the message.”
“What is his name?” Rosa-Lee asked, still seething.
“Roberto. He is very sly and very dangerous. I would do as they say if I were in your shoes,” he said throug
h clenched teeth.
Finally Cisco spoke, and the anger in his voice was unmistakable.
“Who does this man think he is, to command in this manner money, my daughter and my son’s life, all in one breath?”
“My father is used to getting what he wants, and this is a small price to pay for your son’s life, I would say.” A very tall, dark-haired man, the expression on his face determined and fierce, stood in the doorway, filling it with his large frame. They had not noticed him before now and swung toward the deep baritone voice. A scar ran from the corner of his left lip to his left eye. The deep ochre shade of those eyes made him look even more dangerous.
He wore black trousers with high boots. A white shirt showed beneath his long black jacket. In his large hand that looked like a claw to Rosa-Lee he nonchalantly held a black hat. He glared straight into her father’s own piercing eyes without any faltering of his gaze.
She clenched her hands in fists, eyes blazing at the black cloaked man, the smirk on his face clearly in defiance of any law.
“We leave tomorrow morning at six. Be there or bear the consequences.” His eyes shifted to her with amusement and with a mockingly courteous nod to her, he turned and left. They were all stunned in disbelief.
“How dare you?” She shouted at his back.
He turned, glancing back at her, appraising her as if she were the most despicable thing he had ever seen. The guffaw that burst from his throat rolled over her. She stamped her foot in frustration on the marble floor.
Though his voice was cold and distant, his eyes were fiery darts pinning her to attention to him. “Be warned, Môn Petite, that you do not wake the beast.” And he left her standing there. For a moment, fear gripped her heart and her knees buckled. She melted into the love seat.
Her dress billowed around her in an unlady-like fashion. She was crestfallen at the very idea that she would be in this cold man’s presence for the next four months.
†††
December 26, 1623
Cisco Almaida, land owner. Words I never thought would stand together. But after yesterday it was true. I am a land owner, married to the most beautiful woman in the world. And soon to be a father. My heart wants to beat out of my chest.
A father. The greatest gift of all. When Qonchita revealed it to me last night I was, to say the least, speechless. I cried for the first time in my life. I cried. I had nothing else to say and I wrapped her in my arms and held her all night. She has blessed me since the moment she stepped in my life. She has made me have pride in myself. Because of her I can fulfil my dreams.
God, Your Word is true. You bless the pure in heart. You knew my desires and You fulfilled them. Even when I walked through the valley of death and feared, You remained faithful. How awesome is Your Grace.
Help me to stay true to Your Word, true to my new title, and to use it for good. Help me to be a husband and father as you have ordained from the foundation of the world.
I praise your Holy Name.
Amen
2
January 2, 1624
We spent our first Christmas and New Year together as a family. Cisco was like a child, riding his horse all over the place. There was never a dull moment with him around. Rosa- Lee is blossoming with him as her father. Her giggles of delight fill the castle’s passageways and the staff is happier than I can remember.
This is all thanks to Cisco.
Cisco, the man who always steps up when the situation calls for it. He was the one who acted when the ship was splitting into pieces on that fateful day when our lives changed forever. He took charge of a panic-filled crew, all the while his back was still healing. When the crew started to drink all the whiskey in an attempt to soften the blow of death, he kept calm. When slaves drowned in the whiskey in their attempts to get there first, he kept us safe.
He made a harness for Rosa-Lee and myself on that fateful day when eighty-nine people died during the ship’s demise. He simply put me on his back and Rosa-Lee on his chest and jumped into the swells of the foaming sea. He swam to the shore where he made sure we were safe before he helped anyone else. Of course once Captain Breno was on land he took it out on Cisco. Jealous because he did not save everyone and the people admired Cisco.
Those first days on the beach, stranded on the East Coast of Africa were terrifying. But that was only the start of our journey.
Cisco built us a hut to shelter us from the continuous rains. He was the one that made sure there was food enough for everyone. The people trusted him more and for that he was punished again. Again flogged like an animal when he shot a deer to feed the many mouths.
But we would have died if not for him.
He saved me when Faro wanted to rape me. He saved Rosa-Lee when a lion wanted to kill her. He never complained; he did what was necessary and every one benefited from it, including my husband and the captain. Those days were filled with horrific scenes of death and survival. They would always stay in my mind.
†††
“Cisco, you have called for me. Where’s the patient?”
Cisco Almaida visibly shook for the first time in his life. His whole family was endangered by one man’s insanity. Wrapping his arms around his wife, he caressed her back and in return, tiny hands held his broad back, caressing him.
Watching his daughter over on the settee, he could see raw emotions running over the youthful face. Then at last he followed the familiar voice to his friend and family doctor. He swallowed at the bile in his throat, got his voice back, and said,
“Doctor Vasco, please come in. It is Jean. He was wounded.” Cisco turned to Captain Jean, still holding his wife around the shoulders. The captain was still sitting on the chair, as white as a sheet, miserably in pain.
“Is there somewhere we could lie him down so that he can be more comfortable?”
“Yes, Doctor, please follow me,” said Rosa-Lee, who had come to her senses, lifting her eyes and wiping the tears away. Her mother was still distracted. She did not hear anything else around her. Tears streamed down her face but she made no sound.
Straightening herself, Rosa-Lee walked to the injured Captain Jean, helping him to his feet. With the aid of the doctor, supporting him between them, she got him to the nearest bedroom, where they laid him down. Rosa-Lee helped to remove his jacket. They saw the gaping sword-wound clearly, his shirt and trousers on the right side drenched with blood.
“I will go get some warm water, Doctor. Please excuse me.”
“Thanks, Rosa-Lee.” She walked out, the anger she felt earlier building up inside of her. Who do these people think they are, this pirate Roberto, son of the Falcon, using Pedro and myself shamelessly, and wounding our friend in this manner?
I will go, she decided, to get her brother back, but if they think that I will stay there as their female companion, they have another thing coming! She sneered unwomanly
I will show them! Again she was filled with outrage.
She was twenty-four years old and she knew how to defend herself. Her father had taught her the skill of the pistol and the sword. I will give them hell. For now I will play along. But the moment I get an opportunity, I will take revenge for this blatant arrogance.
Her hazel eyes spat fire and with a very fierce posture, she walked to the kitchen to get the warm water and then speak to her father. They had to know that they could count on her to bring Pedro back.
†††
“Mother, Father, please let me go. I will bring Pedro back safely.” Her father had refused to give in to the demands of the pirate.
“I will not send my only daughter to that place. I have heard many things about this pirate and Isle of Saint Marie. I will go and get him!” Cisco raised his voice in frustration and anger.
“But Father, the letter states plainly that I must go. We must do as they say, else they will kill Pedro.”
They argued for a long time about this. Even Manuel said he would go, but his father just looked at him w
ith a glare and refused. He had to tend to the farm.
Finally, when it was already late that evening, Father reluctantly gave in. Mother walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pleading and crying, but they all knew there was nothing they could do. They had to give in to the demands of the pirate or lose their son. However, the thought of their daughter in the hands of those brutes terrified them. Cisco knew what they did to women, how they treated them. Rosa-Lee was as good as dead once she was there.
How would they live with themselves?
“Please, Father, you have taught me all you know and I can defend myself. Don’t worry, please, I will be fine.”
“Trust that what you have taught me will save me and Pedro.” Her eyes were wide with determination as she stepped closer to them. Cisco gathered her closer, her face pressed into his shoulder. He held her for a very long time, shaking.
Her mother rubbed her back and said, “We love you, dear, please come back safely.”
“Yes, mama.” She kissed Qoncita’s soft cheek, still beautiful after all these years, her back rigid as she composed herself.
“I will let you go, Rosa, but you need to let me know as soon as possible what is going on so that I know if I have to come looking for you,” Cisco said gruffly.
“Yes, Father.” standing on her tip toes, she kissed his handsome face. “I need to pack still, and it is late.”
“Yes, dear, I will bring the coins to you in a moment.” He hugged her once more before he let her go. Mother and father stood at the door for a while and she could hear him mutter something to her and Manuel, who walked away, angry at the whole situation. This was not the time to be a hero.
As Rosa-Lee packed her trunks with her earthly belongings Qonchita came to sit with her. Qonchita’s eyes were moist but she was obviously more under control while she sat and watched. She handed her daughter petticoats to pack in and only sniffed few times. This was hard on Rosa-Lee. She knew how her mother had struggled to forget the turmoil of their time in Africa, the nights she woke terrified of the horrors they had seen. Rosa-Lee really hoped that this would not cause those nightmares to return.
Because she was only four during those times, they had sheltered her from the worst parts of it. She did not experience half the nightmares Mama did. Papa was the strong one who kept them sane during those times, making a new future for them all.
He was the pillar and he would be the pillar as always, her giant Papa. He was the man she started to know as a friend and who had become her father. She hardly remembered her biological father. The abuse they had suffered under him had made him easy to forget.
“Mama, please, don’t make it so hard. I will be fine. You and Papa have taught me everything you know. I will be all right. Just believe in me, please.”
“I do believe in you, Rosa-Lee, but still, this is very dangerous. The outcome can be devastating for both you and Pedro.”
“I have a few plans up my sleeve for this Falcon and his son, Mother. Please calm down.” She said with much conviction.
Her mother looked at her in shock, grabbing her shoulders. “Rosa-Lee! You will not try something foolish and get yourself killed. Promise me.”
“No, mother.” She held her mother’s hands, kissing them. “I will be back with Pedro, I promise.”
She hid her pistol and knife in her trunk. This pirate will not have me on a platter; Rosa-Lee Almaida is made of pure Almaida blood, tough enough to face anything.
Later Rosa-Lee lay in her bed, eyes wide open. She had to swallow hard as the enormity of what she was about to face occurred to her and tears ran down her cheeks. She allowed them to run freely.
Come tomorrow morning, fear would be the last emotion she had the luxury of giving into. Her life would depend on her skill and alertness.
†††
January 4, 1624
Last night I was awakened by Qonchita once again. She panicked and moaned uncontrollably in her sleep. It took me awhile to calm her enough for her to realize we were safe.
The turmoil of our journey plagued her. Last night she dreamed we were back on the beach where Kayla tried to seduce me. The slave girl had pretended to sleep with me so that Qonchita would desert me. The mere fact that Qonchita did not speak to me for a few days almost killed me.
Because of her I had the courage to do what I did to get us out of that place. Faro’s attempt to rape her terrified her. I wish I could take those haunting images away. Every time after such an ordeal she melted into my arms, looking forlorn and lost. My heart ached for her and for what we were going through.
The image of her feet, skin worn away to a bloody pulp from walking, her slippers torn, is engraved in me. Those first days were terrible, when we realized help was not coming and we would have to walk. People fell down from exhaustion because the captain refused to stop. The lack of food and the constant rain stalled us over and over. I still hear the screams as wild animals captured people and dragged them into the bushes. I carried Qonchita for days through that brush with Rosa-Lee on my back. Faro never attempted to help them. Not that I would have let him.
The man was more interested in the slave girls that travelled with us. There were times that I had to bite my tongue when I caught him in the act. The man was simply arrogant in his dealings, but those women loved him.
Those days were hard on my lady. But she never complained. She took everything with her head held high, a true lady to the bone.
I swore to myself that I would keep her safe, protect her. I did not care what any one said as long as she was safe. Those days when I carried her, I knew without any doubt that I loved her but I never said a word, although I wanted to. That kiss was the only one we ever dared to share, so I kept my distance as much as I could.
It was hard to watch her, yet she had this strength in her that made her to stand up and go on, no matter what.
Now, to have her in my arms every night is a blessing. I can kiss her all I want. I make love to her and she simply melts in my arms.
She is my joy, my delight. I will love her always.
A Pirate's Wife Page 1