Adventure in the great wide Somewhere
Somewhere over the Atlantic, a large ship was sailing towards the Indies. Its mast rose high and proud, piercing the clouds with pompous delight. Every wave seemed to crash upon its hull with meekness, crushed by the utter grandeur of the vessel. Above it flew the French colors, bleu blanc rouge, fluttering proudly in the wind.
Belle replaced a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear and watched the sun set over the horizon. It was a fine evening, neither hot nor cold, and a salty breeze could be felt. As daylight waned and the smallest of stars began dancing across the sky, Belle's head was full of imaginings and musings: dreaming of adventures to come, she laid her palms upon the ship's wooden balustrade and smiled.
Mornings aboard a large ship were busy, to say the least. Belle hadn't had the chance to witness the night shift yet, but she hoped it was at least as exciting as early morning activities. As she slowly paced the deck, avoiding collision with the frenzied crew, she was joined by Captain Stamper – a tall man with a bushy moustache and a pleasant face.
"I hope yer quarters are to yer liking, madam?" he asked, bowing politely.
"Yes, they are. Thank you Captain," Belle smiled back at him.
"We'll be arriving at Port Royal in about two weeks, if I am not mistaken," he continued in a reassuring sort of voice, beaming proudly at the horizon.
"So soon," Belle sighed softly.
She was enjoying their voyage aboard the Indomptable, and she wasn't keen on seeing land just yet. All the activity, the orders being shouted, the men climbing the rigging… the shanties! And the coming and going below deck was very mysterious indeed. It set Belle's imagination ablaze. She had even started writing a book – well, a story really, nothing too serious of course, although perhaps one day she might get it properly published, that is, if she ever finished it, because really…
Her train of thought was interrupted by Adam's hand gently tugging at her elbow.
"Good morning, Your Majesty," Captain Stamper bowed again. Belle suppressed a giggle as she watched the uniformed man squirm with ill-concealed pride and admiration.
"Good morning Captain," Adam gave him a polite smile and quickly turned away. Stamper understood this as being a sign from the Prince to be left alone with his wife, and he dutifully stepped away.
"It's not that I don't like him," Adam whispered to Belle, once the captain was far enough, "but he tends to get… well, he's a bit too chatty for my taste."
Belle laughed. "He is, isn't he? But then he really is a good man as well."
"I never said he wasn't," Adam shrugged, "just a tad talkative."
They walked for a while, gazing at each other and then at the sea, taking turns smiling mischievously every time a wave pushed them against each other. At such an early stage of their marriage, every touch was welcomed – nay, craved. Belle was starting to wonder if they could spend a little time alone in their quarters, at least until lunch time. She shared her thoughts with Adam, who bit his lower lip and took her hand in his.
The ship rocked them both to sleep as they reclined naked on their bed. It was smaller than any bed they had shared at the palace, but still much larger than anything Belle had slept on before she'd met Adam. She was drifting in and out of a peaceful slumber when she heard a knock on the door. Two knocks, polite but insistent.
"Yes?" Belle called out, making Adam groan in his sleep.
"It is me, madame," Plumette answered from behind the closed door, "The Captain is expecting you; lunch has been served."
Belle rubbed her eyes and pushed herself off the bed. She was glad she had brought Plumette along with them – they really needed a healthy reminder from time to time that they were, in fact, royalty, and not wild bunnies. They were expected to behave as such, as much as Belle abhorred the notion.
"I'll be right there," Belle answered, quickly getting dressed.
She roused Adam, who naturally made a fuss and refused to leave bed until she threatened him, then they both made their way to the Captain's quarters, looking as guilty as a couple of thieves. Plumette accompanied them as usual, grinning to herself.
Lunch was everything except quiet of course, what with Captain Stamper's incessant jabbering. For what Belle thought was the fifth time, he asked them – beggin' yer pardon, Your Majesties, and if you'd allow me – what their business was in the West Indies. Again, Belle unashamedly answered that it was a whim, a desire for adventure that had made her ask this of her husband. She wanted to see the world, and Adam was all too happy to oblige; he had commissioned a ship and a crew and here they were.
He must think me one of those impossibly petulant ladies who spend their time pestering their wealthy husbands for jewels and voyages, Belle thought. No matter. She wanted adventure, and if a few people thought her mad for that, then so be it.
Then the Captain moved on to something else, telling them about a strange ship that had been spotted that morning on the horizon. It turned out to be a harmless British freighter after all, which made the entire story less interesting, and Belle's mind floated away.
Her thoughts had turned to her book – story, that is – when a loud bang resounded. Another one followed, and the mighty ship shook, making the fine cutlery on their table fall to the deck with a clatter.
"What was that?" Belle asked, noting the panicked looks on the Captain and First Mate's sunburnt faces.
"Nothin' to concern yerself with, Your Majesty," Stamper said as he jumped to his feet and ran out onto the deck with his First Mate. "Please, don't leave this room," he cried over his shoulder.
Remaining alone at the table, Adam, Belle and Plumette stared at each other with growing concern. A few more bangs echoed throughout the ship, and again they were violently shaken about.
"Gunfire?" Plumette asked.
"Canons…" Adam said, shaking his head.
Belle swallowed nervously. "Do you think… could it be?"
They dared not say it, but they all thought it – pirates.