I guessed. “Even though you feel as Striker does about the fairer sex.”
“Oui.”
“Do not fret on the matter,” I chided. “Think of riding horses.”
He chuckled. “Oui, let us not think.”
My uncle and Rucker were indeed at Theodore’s, dining. All appeared relieved to see us.
“I was going to send a boy to the ship to inquire of you if you did not show soon,” Theodore chided.
“Sorry to worry you so,” I said cheerfully. “We are here now to take our leave.”
“You are here now to write your father,” he said.
“Damn you,” I sighed.
He gave a disparaging snort and led us to his office. So once again I found myself at his desk with pen in hand and a blank page before me.
“Tell me what to say,” I whined to Gaston.
He did not smile. “Father, I have wed the bitch you sent. Marsdale.”
I laughed. In the end, the piece I wrote was not dissimilar, and though it was a bit more diplomatic, it was nearly as succinct.
I soon handed the single folded and sealed sheet to Theodore. He did not remark on its lack of heft.
My uncle and Rucker were still at the table. We joined them and Hannah brought us each a bowl of soup.
“We have been discussing the plantation,” my uncle said carefully.
I sighed and remembered what we must speak of. I looked to Theodore. “Are they truly growing food, and is Fletcher teaching the Negroes English?”
“Aye and aye,” Theodore said with a small smile.
“The other planters do not do such things,” my uncle said. “And as there are no plantations in England, I hardly feel it is a matter of new traditions verses the old.”
I sighed. “It is a matter of my traditions verses those of others. It is a thing I wish, and as Father has little use for the place, and does not seem overly concerned about it making a profit in and of itself, I do not see why anyone should attempt to gainsay me on the matter.”
Uncle Cedric considered that for a time. “As you will then, boy,” he said at last with a tired sigh.
I looked to Rucker. “Once the Negroes speak enough English, I am sure much could be learned of their native ways.”
He nodded enthusiastically at this, and I thought he would say more if not for my uncle’s glowering presence.
I looked to Theodore. “If there is any doubt as to Mister Rucker’s place in any of the endeavors afoot, consider him to be in my employ.” I looked to Rucker again. “If that meets with your desires, of course.”
Rucker nodded and Theodore smiled.
With that, we said our goodbyes and they all wished us well, some more fervently than others.
Agnes had cleared away the results of last night’s festivities, and the house looked none the worse. We found her sketching sleeping dogs. She seemed surprised we were not already gone with the others.
“When the new houses are built, where shall I live?” she asked.
“Wherever you wish,” I said. “You may remain here, if you like.”
“But you will be selling this house to Mister Cudro,” she said.
“Oh that, well, reside with… Mistress Striker then.” I shrugged.
“You will not expect me to live with Lady Marsdale?” she asked.
“Nay, never. And I thought we discussed this once,” I chided.
“In passing,” she said with far more authority than I had heard from her before. “I just wished to be sure.”
I saw the effort she put into not fidgeting with her long fingers as she awaited my response. Her gaze was steady when it met mine, though.
I endeavored to compare what I could remember of her behavior these past few days with the way she was when we were here before. I decided she had been quite a bit more forceful of late. I was proud of her.
I smiled. “You are your own mistress, Agnes. Do as you will. Truly.”
She curtsied. “Thank you, my Lord.”
“And stop that. Take care of yourself and the dogs while we are gone, and let no one tell you otherwise.”
“You are contradictory,” Gaston said as we retreated to our room.
“If she did not wish to stay here and care for the dogs I do not believe she would.”
“True, yet what will she do once we sell this house and live with your sister while in port, if that is to be our plan?” he asked.
“Oh Hell, I do not know,” I sighed. “Let us hope she will be happy living with my sister, too.”
“Would you, if you were drawn to another and yet knew there would never be any chance of sating your desires?” he asked with a cocked head.
“Non, as you are well aware,” I sighed.
I had forgotten Agnes’ attraction to my sister and all things female.
“Perhaps she will find someone,” I said.
“There is always hope of that,” he said with a smile.
I began to sort through our things, considering what else we would need on a lengthy voyage, and packing away the items of finery I had been forced to wear here. Gaston considered his medicine chest. I was heartened by this.
“Do you wish to bring it?” I asked carefully.
He sighed. “You might be injured. I would have my own tools and ingredients.”
“I would prefer such a thing.”
He nodded and saw that the various drawers and compartments were packed and latched securely. Then we both took up bags of extra ammunition and a handle on the medicine chest, and with one final farewell to Agnes and the dogs, we walked into the street and joined the men trickling toward the Chocolata Hole.
The festivities had advanced to the stage of overt drunkenness on the part of all aboard by the time we arrived at the Queen. We worked our way through the teeming deck and stowed our belongings in the crowded cabin. I prayed all I saw would not sail with us. If they did, it appeared we would be even more crowded than we had been on the way to Cow Island.
I was, however, delighted to see our cabal when we at last found them all on the quarterdeck. I was even more pleased to see that our newest associates, Ash, Nickel, Burroughs and Bones, had been properly attired and equipped under Liam’s tutelage. They were now shorn with kerchiefs on their heads; and they wore tunics, breeches, and earrings, and carried muskets and cutlasses. They looked like the buccaneers they had vowed to become, and not the misplaced planters and soldiers they had been.
“Did you loan them the necessary funds?” I asked Liam and Otter privately, as Gaston and I settled in to sit beside them.
“Nay, the boy, Nickel, ’ad money and ’e bought fer all,” Liam said.
“Well, that was kind of him,” I said.
Otter leaned close to whisper. “He paid Bones’ debt as well.”
I was surprised. “Did he? Have things changed between them, or does it merely appear to be philanthropy?”
Liam sighed. “They will na’ call each other matelot. They say they be partners.” He said the last word derisively.
I chuckled. “So be it.”
“Burroughs spent some o’ Nickel’s money on a whore,” Liam added with disgust.
“It is… the way of many,” I said.
Liam had now worked himself up to a good froth of anger and seemed ready to send it my way.
I held up my hand. “Do not blame me for my sister’s arrival here, or for Striker’s favoring of women. One was a matter of the Fates and the other the Gods.”
Otter chuckled and shook his matelot’s shoulders until Liam sighed with exasperation.
We turned to see Pete talking and drinking with apparent good humor with Davey and Julio, while Striker stood on the other side of the quarterdeck speaking quietly with the Bard and Bradley. I was surprised to see the other captain on board and wondered at that.
“It is trouble, the two o’ them bein’ separate an’ all,” Liam was saying.
“Aye, but it is the way of things that they change,” I said.
“Aye,” he said. “But I like it none.”
“Duly noted,” I said with a grin and a pat on Liam’s shoulder. Then I leaned to Gaston. “I wish to know what they speak of.”
He nodded, and I stood and approached the captains.
Striker seemed pleased to see me. “We need to even out the men between vessels. All know we sail, but they have not known what other ships do.”
“So all have arrived here,” I said.
“Aye,” Bradley said with a chuckle. “We are trying to decide if we should even attempt to sort them out this night, or if we should pull all the ships that will sail out beyond the passage in the morning, and then apportion men to whatever vessel can hold them.”
I nodded. “Before articles; that sounds reasonable. I doubt anyone will succeed with anything tonight.”
Bradley shook his head. “Articles are no matter. There’ll be articles for the raid once we rendezvous on the cays of Cuba.”
“It is not for a ship and a ship only when we plan to raid on land with so many,” Striker added.
“Ah,” I said. It did not sit well with me, and I could think of no immediate reason for it other than my dislike and distrust of Morgan; so I decided to say nothing.
“Let me know if I can be of assistance in the morning,” I said. “Gaston and I will not be drinking this night.”
Striker sighed. “Neither will I.”
“Well that will make for three of ya,” the Bard said with amusement, and lifted a bottle in toast.
Bradley snorted. “There’s no reason to deny yourself, it’s not as if we haven’t faced the mornin’ light with the Devil yet in our veins before. Come drink with us on the Lilly,” he told Striker. “Morgan will be pleased to see you.”
“He wishes for a meeting of the captains?” Striker asked, and looked around at the revelry surrounding us; and then his gaze settled on Pete, and he appeared as one lost.
There was little time to think on it, and so I thought quickly. If Striker stayed aboard as I felt he ought, it would be evident he was not with Pete, both painfully to the two of them and disconcertingly to those who did not know what was amiss as of yet. It would be best if Striker had an excuse to leave the ship this night.
“Aye, go, see if the other captains can give numbers as to how many they will take off our hands,” I said lightly and gave Striker a little push.
He quickly hooked his arm about my shoulders to bring me close and whisper in my ear. “I don’t wish to go alone.”
“Then let us go with you,” I said.
He nodded.
I went to Gaston and quickly explained the situation, and then I let Cudro know where we were bound. We followed Striker to the boat. Bradley seemed surprised as I climbed down to join them, and dismayed at Gaston’s presence.
“Well, there seems to be enough of us. You boys want to join the party here?” he asked the two men who had helped him row the boat to our ship.
They readily agreed and clambered aboard the Queen. The boat only needed two men to row, so Gaston and I took up the oars they left.
As we pushed off, Bradley addressed Striker. “If you brought anyone, I would have expected Pete…”
“Pete isn’t pleased at my marriage,” Striker said.
“So… You’ve gotten married?” Bradley asked. “Will spoke of the possibility, but…”
“Aye,” Striker said firmly. “I’ve gotten married.”
“Other than him being unhappy about it, are you still with Pete?” Bradley asked.
“Nay.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bradley said sincerely.
“So am I,” Striker said.
“Are you pleased to be married?” Bradley asked diffidently.
Striker sighed. “Aye, that I am.”
“It will be hard at first, not havin’ a man at your side, but it passes,” Bradley said sadly. “Things are changin’, a captain doesn’t need a matelot anymore, probably best if he doesn’t have one.”
Striker was silent for a time as we maneuvered our way around another ship in the Hole and then to the sloop Lilly. When at last he spoke, it was with calm resolve. “I don’t want to be the captain of a merchantman, or a naval vessel. I’m a buccaneer, and the Brethren fight in pairs. That’s what makes us strong. If we begin to behave like the others, then we become the others. If we’re not the Brethren of the Coast, then there’s no loyalty except to gold, and men start believing they belong to a crown.”
“Oui,” Gaston said.
“Oui, aye, amen,” I added.
“That’s not the way the other captains see it,” Bradley said.
I thought of all the discourse I had engaged in with my uncle.
“There are those of us who like the traditions established here,” I said, “and want little of the ones of old. If I wanted to behave like a proper Englishman, I would return to England.”
Bradley looked away, and made himself busy coiling the bow rope to throw up to the Lilly well before we were ready for him to do so. He finally thought of a rebuttal as we did indeed near her.
“There are those of us who had nothing in England and yet wanted it,” he said, still without regarding me, “and now we’re here and have something, and we still want what we did as young men.”
“I hate to be the bearer of poor tidings,” I said without rancor, “but I feel the lot of you are betting on the wrong horse in that regard. Or perhaps it is that we all ever want what is beyond the pasture fence. You have freedom here that no man knows in England, regardless of his rank, and yet you would heave it overboard in the name of attaining a thing you viewed with envy as young men before you truly knew the way of it.”
“You’ve never been poor,” he hissed as he stood to board.
“That is bullshit,” I snarled. “I have had to barter my soul for sustenance more times than I care to admit. And though I was born into a house with money, it was so poor in all other things men might place value on I found myself driven from it. Do not speak to me of hardship.”
“If you accept the rules of men such as my father,” I continued, “then you accept their rule, and you lose your freedom – and you will never elevate yourself in their eyes, no matter what you do. Even if you gain more gold than they, they will never grant you respect, and all the while they will connive to take your gold or kill you.
“If you want their respect, do not bow before them, endeavor to cut their throats,” I added.
“I bow before no man,” he spat.
I snorted. “You bow every time you accept their laws, their rules, and their traditions.”
“Men were not made to love other men.” he snarled triumphantly. “If I bow, it is to a higher law.”
“God made me, as he made you,” I snapped. “If you truly believe God did wrong in the making of me as I am, then I will grant you balls I did not think you had.”
“You blaspheme,” he said. “God did not make you to be a sodomite. That is an evil men engage in when weak. We do it, and then we are done with it, and we ask God’s forgiveness as we would with any other sin!”
“I have little use for any God who does not hold the love I have for my matelot holy!”
I shouted this last, as he had shouted his last words to me, and in the silence that followed, I was acutely aware that everyone on board the Lilly had likely heard us. They were surely staring as if they had. I looked up along the rail and received both frowns and nods of approval. When they determined we would say no more, our audience began to buzz as they repeated what they heard or argued it themselves.
Bradley climbed aboard the ship. I sat in the boat, as I had risen to standing at some point during the argument.
“I do not think I should stay,” I said.
“I cannot allow you to go anywhere,” Gaston said.
Gaston and Striker were laughing.
“I do not wish to stay, either,” Striker gasped.
Striker stood and told whoever would listen that we would
return the boat to the Mayflower.
“I want Pete back,” Striker said as we cast off.
“Do you think it possible?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “He is stubborn, unyielding, and a damn bastard, and I’m tired of him always having his way, but…”
“So why do you want him back?” I teased. “Just to thumb your nose at Bradley and God?”
“Aye,” he said with mock seriousness and then grinned. “Nay, I love him. And if he loves me, then he will by God yield on this one thing. I will have a wife, and him.”
Gaston and I exchanged a look.
“We will do all we can to assist you,” I said. “Do you have some strategy in mind?”
“Nay,” he sighed. “I have a steadfast purpose and little else.”
“Well, it is likely you will be tested to be as stubborn as both Pete and God,” I said.
He grinned with resolve.
As we neared our own ship once again, Striker roused himself from reverie to say, “He’s still my matelot. I’ll not hear otherwise, just as he never heard me when I said I needed something more.”
“I foresee a siege,” I said.
“Aye, a long and bloody one.” Striker grinned and clambered up the rope to our deck.
“What think you of his chances?” I asked my matelot as we made the boat fast.
“I think he is taking the wrong tack,” he said with a shrug. “Pete feels he has already been made to give ground. He will not wish to give more.”
“Oui,” I sighed sadly.
We joined our friends, and they made room for us on the crowded quarterdeck as best they could. I sat between Gaston’s legs and he held me contentedly. Striker went to stand beside Pete, and proceeded to act as if nothing were amiss between them for the rest of the night; though they did not touch, and that was evident to all who knew them.
As I watched them, I thought of Bradley and his former matelot Siegfried. Did he turn to piousness now out of guilt or shame? If good Siegfried had not died so unfortunately, would Bradley have abandoned him to marry, or stayed on with him at sea after his marriage? Bradley had been quite forthright in saying he did not consider matelotage marriage in any fashion, and he always seemed to have difficulty acknowledging it in the lives of others. In my musings, I recalled another thing: I never saw them touch one another.
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