Matelots

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Matelots Page 76

by W. A. Hoffman


  “So, did we win?” he asked with a weak attempt at his usual good cheer.

  “Aye,” we said in unison.

  “Good,” he sighed, “because I would give ’im a burial like ’e asked, and that would be hard if we still be fightin’ the Spaniards.”

  “How does… did… he wish to be buried?” I asked.

  “’E wants to be burned on a boat. Does not want the worms or the sharks to have ’im.”

  Pete and I nodded.

  “There are a number of boats in this harbor,” I said. “When?”

  “Tonight,” he said with a thoughtful nod. “Good to ’ave it done afore ’e starts ta stink. I could na’ bear rememberin’ ’im as stinkin’.”

  “I’llGetABoat,” Pete said and left us.

  Liam held out his hand and I gave him the bottle. “I need be drunk,” he sighed after another long pull. “Otherwise I will na’ sleep. I have na’ slept alone in a long time.”

  “I am sure you could sleep with others tonight.” I was also sure he would sleep well with the laudanum in him and only a little additional wine.

  He shook his head. “Nay. Then I’ll just be confused when I wake, an’ it’ll hurt that much more. Best I learn ta live with it right quick.”

  Gaston joined us, and one look told me he was now under the sway of the Child. My heart and gut constricted in unison. He circled about Otter’s body with reverent awe, and knelt on the other side of Liam, who he embraced.

  Liam returned it and then regarded me with curiosity. “He be well?”

  “Well… nay,” I grimaced. “Death affects him deeply at times.”

  “I seen that. Don’t let ’im touch Otter,” Liam said very seriously. His hand went to the pommel of a pistol.

  I nodded quickly. “Gaston, come sit with me.”

  He crawled around Liam to join me without question.

  “Why he be fascinated with the dead?” Liam asked, with a little more ease now that I was between my matelot and his matelot’s body.

  “His mother died when he was young, in childbirth, and it had a profound effect upon him,” I said.

  Liam nodded sympathetically. “Me mother died birthin’ me. Me father married me wet nurse. I thought she was me mother fur a long time. Then she died birthin’ me half sister. She had seven afore that. I was thirteen when she went.”

  “Don’ want no wife, an’ no bairns,” he continued. His hand strayed to the body again. His breath was ragged. “’E wants me ta find another. Says I’ll be happy. ’E knows me better than I know meself. But… It won’t be ’im. It’ll be odd. An’ I never been with another man.”

  I could not say the time-honored platitudes about allowing himself time to grieve. Instead, I asked, “Would you take another man?”

  He shook his head with a bemused grin. “Don’ rightly know. I did na’ favor men in me youth. I did na’ fall in love with this bugger. ’E had never been with a man either, but ’e had entertained the notion. So… our lives bein’ livin’ shite in that army, an’ me na’ wishin’ ta die without… well, at least once. So we put foot on the trail to see where it led. I don’t regret it none. Don’ know if I’d walk it again, though. But I canna’ stand bein’ alone.”

  “You are a good man,” I said. “You should not have to be alone if you do not wish it. I am damn sorry you lost him.”

  “Thank ye,” he sighed.

  He handed me the bottle, of which there was very little left. I had drunk none of it. I wondered how much laudanum Gaston had given him.

  Gaston captured Liam’s hand while it was still between us. He squeezed it, and gave Liam a beatific smile.

  “Love is heavy,” he said haltingly in English, “but it gives life purpose.”

  Liam nodded and cocked his head. “I do na’ know ’bout that. It made me life lighter.”

  His gaze flicked to me, and I smiled reassuringly.

  “That is better, then,” Gaston said with a thoughtful frown. “I am heavy. Will must carry us both quite often.”

  I wished to refute him, but my throat was choked with sudden tears. Liam’s eyes were on mine and appeared as moist.

  He smiled sadly. “Now don’t you be startin’, you’ll get me goin’ again. We be needin’ another bottle.”

  Gaston released him and kissed me on the temple. Then he stood, and presumably went to fetch another bottle, though I could not be sure.

  “How often he get like that?” Liam asked once Gaston was gone.

  I tried to compose myself. “Not often. Primarily after battles, when there is so much death.”

  “An’ how… Do ya get any warnin’ afore he goes the other way?” Liam asked carefully.

  “None.” I smiled.

  Liam shook his head with mirth. “Damn, Will, Cork were right, ya be a fool. Is love na’ strange?”

  “Oh, aye,” I said.

  “We all worry ’bout ya,” he said with sudden sobriety.

  My smile deepened. “I am not sure if that is good or bad.”

  He grinned again. “Me, neither.”

  When Gaston returned, the others accompanied him. A steady trickle of men came to Liam and offered condolences. I retreated with Gaston. I wished to check on Alonso, but I was very leery of his seeing my matelot in his present condition. I did spy him, standing near the shore with Julio and Davey guarding him. Julio appeared to be conversing with him. I was concerned about that, as well, but there was little to be done for it.

  Or was there? I led Gaston away from the others until we were alone in the trees. He embraced me once we stopped. I held him and tried to let my worries fade away. It did not work, but I felt better for the attempt. I released him and took his face between my hands.

  “You know I love you when are thus, oui?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  I kissed him lightly. “And you know I understand why you are this way at this moment, oui?”

  He nodded again.

  “However,” I said gently, “it would be better if you were not as you are now, until such time as we can be alone again at our leisure this night.”

  He nodded once more, and the innocence receded from his face. He kissed my palm and then pushed my hands away to step into my arms again. His kiss was thorough and compelling. I did not wish it to end, and pulled him back every time he sought to break it off. He finally pulled his mouth from mine and trailed his teeth down the side of my throat. I gasped and he bit. I held his head again and savored the mixed pain and pleasure of his marking me.

  “There,” he said with a devil’s grin when he finished, “now he will know you belong to someone.”

  I was amused. “Thank you for not killing him, yet.”

  “The Horse does not want him dead,” he said with mischief.

  “Truly? What does the Horse want?” I asked.

  He took a quick breath and his grin slipped away, as did his eyes. “Do not…”

  I put fingers to his lips. “Do not dissemble now, please. You are doing so well today, with the battle, and Otter’s death, and Alonso even, and yet I would know if…”

  His fingers were on my lips and he nodded. “You would know if I will wreak havoc yet.”

  I grinned. “Precisely.”

  He met my eyes solidly and took another deep breath. “The Horse wishes to take pleasure with you while he watches.”

  I was not terribly surprised. I did not flinch from his gaze. “I would be amenable under certain circumstances.”

  This surprised him. “Those being?”

  “That the flavor of the night is such that we would not be alone amongst the Brethren in engaging in those activities: essentially, that our lovemaking not appear to be staged for his benefit alone,” I said.

  He smiled and a great deal of tension fled him. “You do not take issue with his seeing?”

  I grinned. “Non, when I think on all the times he publicly shunned me in the name of propriety – well, let us say I wish to wave a thing or two under his nose as well. And
if it should please you and lessen your damnable jealousy, then it is icing upon a cake I already wished to eat.”

  He lightly kissed my lips. “Then we will see how the night progresses.”

  We returned to the others. Striker and Pete had found a fine flyboat, and men were busy dousing it in lamp oil and bringing extra timber to stack about the body.

  Alonso appeared very relieved to see me. He was still with Julio and Davey, standing apart from the others. Gaston and I joined them.

  “How are you?” I inquired of Alonso in Castilian.

  “I have needs, but they can wait a little,” he replied in kind.

  “Good,” I said. “There will be festivities all about, once this is completed. Not that they have not already started.”

  I smirked and looked at all the drinking men watching the funeral preparations. Liam was obviously drunk and drugged beyond pain already. He was stumbling about helping Cudro and Pete get Otter’s body situated on the boat. And they were passing a bottle.

  I thought we should join them soon, so as not to appear unsociable; but I thought we might wait a little, until the preparations were complete.

  Alonso interrupted my musings. “Do they bury all their dead so?”

  “No. We do not,” I said. “It depends on the circumstances, and how well-loved a man is, and what his last wishes were. Otter and his matelot, Liam, were well-liked. And usually we bury our dead in the ground or at sea. Otter asked for neither.”

  “Julio says you came with less than five hundred; and that you traveled down the coast in canoes,” Alonso said incredulously.

  “I did not think it mattered now if I told him,” Julio added quickly.

  “No, it does not,” I told Julio with a smile. “Si, it is true,” I told Alonso. “It was a clever plan concocted by our Admiral Morgan.”

  “Uly, how is it you came to be amongst pirates?” Alonso asked. “Did you not return home? I surmise that you did, as my letter must have passed through your father’s estate.”

  I laughed. There was so much concern in his voice, as if I had truly fallen to some terrible end.

  “I could well ask you the same,” I said. “Though I think a guess is easy enough to make. You did indeed go to Panama and you were here for the fair.”

  “Si,” he said. “I have a cousin here, who asked that I remain a time and see to his business for him, as he has been unwell.”

  “How is Panama?” I asked.

  “Fine,” he said distantly. “My brother and I have a plantation and… I am married.” He watched my reaction closely.

  “As you knew you would be.” I smiled. “Well, congratulations. Progeny as of yet?”

  “She is with child,” he said with a frown.

  I doubted he had suffered any hesitation in that matter.

  “So is… Striker’s wife.” I pointed vaguely toward our friend.

  They had pushed the boat away with only Otter’s body on it.

  “Now we should join our friends,” I said.

  We wound our way through the loose clusters of men until we were amongst our cabal. Liam waded unsteadily into the water with a torch and tossed it. The boat caught fire with a menacing whoosh, and Pete looped an arm about Liam’s chest and fetched him back to shore. All was silent for a moment as we watched the boat burn. Then an amazing sound issued from among us, and we all turned to find Cudro singing. It was in Dutch, a lament judging by the sound of it, though I could not quite follow the words. I had wondered if the man could sing with that voice of his. He surely could.

  Liam stared at him in wonder, and then bent over sobbing and cursing, and turned back to the burning boat. Pete and I caught him up and got his arms about our shoulders. We had to support him as we stood there: he was past the ability to do so himself.

  Thus we held him until the boat was burnt away and sank beneath the waves. It took longer than one would think, but not nearly long enough to truly say goodbye. In the wake of Cudro’s song, I stood listening to the crackling fire and Liam’s quiet sobs, and wandered through my memories of the last year. I wondered how I could convey any of it to Alonso, when he obviously held the Brethren in such disdain.

  Then I thanked the Gods I had left him sleeping.

  Fifty-One

  Wherein We Battle Ghosts

  As the fire burned down, some men slipped away in twos and threes, and returned to town or into the fort. Soon, only our cabal and Alonso were left standing on the shore.

  I looked to the others. “Shall we stay here, then? I feel Liam is ready to sleep now.”

  Liam was nearly asleep between us, as it was.

  “Aye,” Striker agreed with a doting smile.

  He tousled Liam’s hair and earned a sad smile in return.

  “I do na’ wan’ be alone,” Liam slurred.

  “We will be with you,” Striker assured him.

  He looked to the rest of us. “I’m not sure who will remain sober. We should set watches.”

  “Aye, and that will see to this fortress,” I said. “But what of the rest?”

  Sounds of revelry and the light of fires drifted across the harbor.

  “Bradley has taken some men and gone out on the road to Panama,” Striker said. “According to Cork, there is a defensible defile somewhere near here, and the road can easily be held by a small number of men.”

  I grinned. “I will sleep better, then. I feel the rest of the town could be taken from us by but a small number of men, with so many of ours under the sway of Bacchus.”

  Striker nodded and took another pull on the bottle he held. “So we will hold this fort, Morgan will hold the middle, and Bradley will hold the road. The rest may revel to their heart’s content.”

  “Wonderful. Let us remember to bar and brace that storeroom door,” I said.

  “We did that,” Julio grinned. “Not that the Spanish could have mustered four madmen.”

  Alonso was curious, and so I told him of how we took the fort as we walked back to it. He was sincerely impressed and expressed it. This seemed to amuse Pete, once I translated.

  The fort was filled with rowdy buccaneers who did not wish to go into town. Julio led us to the officer’s quarters in one corner of the building. We eschewed them, though, as they did not have ready access to any portion of the place from which we could overlook the harbor. Thus we found ourselves atop the wide wall where it most protruded into the water. We lit a fire in a brazier, and Striker and Pete went to find food in the kitchen before our men ate it all. We brought up a mattress that did not smell profoundly, and laid it out for Liam. He was too drunk and exhausted to protest.

  Relieved of one burden, I addressed another, and released Alonso from his bonds so he could see to his needs, under my watchful eye.

  “You truly would shoot me if I attempted to escape?” he asked as he relieved himself.

  I could not contain my amusement. “Assuredly and with alacrity.” He seemed hurt by this; and I sobered, though bemusement now gripped me.

  “What would you have of me, Alonso?” I asked sincerely.

  He glanced over his shoulder to the place where Gaston sat with the others. Alonso and I were far enough from them to converse in private. My matelot looked toward us, and I smiled at him. I was pleased he had found the wherewithal to keep his jealousy in check for the moment.

  When I looked back at Alonso, I found him watching me. He quickly returned to looking over the harbor.

  “You have grown thin,” he said.

  I chuckled. “You have grown.”

  He snorted, and sucked in his belly, though in truth there was not much of one. Yet I could see he was on the road to ruin in that regard.

  “Such vanity,” I chided gently. “You are still as handsome as ever.” It was not a lie.

  “I would say the same,” he said while studying me, “if I could perceive you through the layer of filth.”

  “It is fat,” I said. “Well, most of it. It keeps the insects at bay.”

  �
��Ah, well I can understand the need here. This place stinks, and it is home to all manner of pestilence, but the worst of it is the damn insects. I could not bring myself to roll in lard, though.”

  “Do you drink the water?” I asked.

  “No, I drink the wine,” he said.

  “That may be why you live.”

  “How so?” he asked.

  “Poor water holds little insects that might make one ill: very tiny insects that one can see with lenses,” I said.

  “What?” he asked with a good deal of incredulity.

  I sighed. “Gaston is a physician, and he has studied such things.”

  He gave my matelot an even more incredulous look. “Truly?”

  “Truly,” I sighed. “And the son of a Marquis.”

  I felt the fool for adding that last. I did not need to prove Gaston in those terms. It galled me that the next glance Alonso threw his way held respect. He had always put great stock in breeding.

  “So, do you have a wife as well as a lover?” he asked.

  I felt the stirrings of annoyance. “As all good sons do, I took a wife to appease my father. He wishes an heir. It is complicated… I wish to keep him at bay and yet stay in his good graces for the time being. Gaston is my life, though. If he told me to put her on the street, I would. If he told me to wish my father to the Devil and damn the consequences, I would.”

  He watched the bay in contemplative silence.

  “And what of you?” I asked. “Have you some lover you keep tucked away?”

  He shook his head and smiled. “Uly, I have not taken a lover since you.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Do tell? No men at all?”

  “Men si, lovers no,” he shrugged dismissively.

  “Ah,” I said with the taint of sarcasm. “I have only had the one.”

  He snorted derisively. “You jest. You, an avowed sodomite among so many, and only the one? You truly have not seduced that golden god I fought?” he asked quietly.

  I grinned. “No. He is with the dark-haired one.”

  I pointed. Striker was reclining across Pete’s lap.

  “They have been together ten… no, eleven years now,” I said. “The Brethren of the Coast do not go about seducing one another’s matelots, else there would be very few of us indeed, and we would travel nowhere for all the dueling.”

 

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