by Alice Clapp.
Chapter One
The Chance MeetingThe sun lazily made its over the distant hills of Borgia. An intrusive ray crept through red rags standing in for tattered curtains. Cesare stirred a bit in his sleep as the spotted red glow rested on that odd face of his. Luckily he did not wake. And after a few unintelligible grunts, he returned to whatever he was dreaming in that creepy little mind of his. I folded the rags over, so as to create more resistance against the dawn. I didn't need him catching up to me making me stay longer; I was already late as it was. The silly boy did like me too much. After covering my loose cotton slip dress in a painfully dull pale blue one, I helped myself to whatever loose coins that I happened to come across on my way out his front door.
I squinted.
Dawn had passed. I was late. I was in no mood to run today.
" 'Uncle' will just have to suffer the indignity of yanking the cow's teats himself." I muttered slowing down my pace.
I don't remember the last time it had rained, but the road suffered from it. I stopped to secure my shoe upon my foot and dust kicked forward before settling behind me in cloud lowly hung upon the ground. People were out of their homes, hopping into the rhythm of everyday peasant labor. Many of who were women who scowled at the sight of me being so idle as to walk so comfortably in the morning. I merely smiled and continued my way. I didn't need anything from women who fought fiercely to merely win a carrot for dinner. I was rather lucky. Spain was not an easy place to survive when not attached to a city or a lord of some sort. But these days, Spanish nobles were greedier than ever. The foolishness of the war had quite drained the land.
"Perfectly impossible rich men are. So many hungry men lost their lives to claim the 'greatness' that was the Spanish Empire. Merely to see it exhausted of everything trying to save itself for one man-" I jumped upon a boulder on the bend of the road and belted, "Largo vive el Rey Philip el quinto de España Hermosa! Que él encuentra más conviniendo aqui que Francia envidiosa! " A family nearby gave me a most foul look, so I returned to the road and my awaiting flour-like cloud and continued home.
The road then made another bend, so I could see the enormous plantation of the Marquis de Vallado below. It was beautiful, the vast fields of grape vines and other crops were wonderful to behold. Not many were able to admire the beauty that was the valley. But not many had the luxory to stop work to look at a passing humming bird. Free Peasants we were but serf-like burdens never left many shoulders. I had my mother to thank that I did not have to toil so much in my life, if at all. But stay, I had too. Until 'Uncle' saw it fit that I could leave.
"Oh! Uncle! Right, I should be on my way now." A boy passed by looking at me strangely as he carried a bucket of water.
I winked, "Inglés, mi amor, Inglés."
He smiled and hurried back home I imagine, and so did I but in more leisure a manner, "When will 'Uncle' see it fit to let me go? I am already 18, unmarried but nevertheless able to take care of myself. I am rather sure that I will never marry. But I do not intend to age into an old maid tending my bar. MY tavern, not his, MINE. He may think he owns me, but that is far from the truth."
I spat on the ground trying to look as ruggedly imposing as possible, "If I were to leave this very moment, he would be found dead in a ditch somewhere by one of the Marquis' serfs." I sighed. If I were to leave, he wouldn't be able to get on very well, would he.
"Ohhh mother, why did you have to leave me in such a ridiculous man's charge?"
The sun was at its highest point when I reached town. I was about to turn onto the alley that held my mother's settled drinkery, when I heard the nice little jingle of unspent coins. Boots would be nice.
I made a dramatic spin onto the opposite side street. It lead to a nice abundance of clothing stores. Many of which owned by Irish merchants from Cádiz. I was delighted when I heard a familiar bellowing voice.
"Bless me! Miss Fran! Hawareya?"
"My situation is an absolutely deplorable one, Dear Sir O'Farrel. I seem to have much too many coins, and a most pitiful lack of leather boots!" Hand placed on forehead, I continued, "Oh! If there was anyone who could save me from such a plight! …Anyone?"
O'Farrel chuckled merrily
"Per'aps I can be o' some-"
"Comfortable ones," I interrupted with hand still on forehead, "Comfortable leather boots. Oh! Not those silly little fashionable lady boots. Real ones like…" I lowered my hand to my cheek to allow any passerby the pleasure of knowing that I was thinking, "Pirate boots. Yes, functional comfortable leather pirate boots. None of this shackle business, savvy?" He nodded rather haphazardly and left the canvas awning and entered his store.
A body stepped behind me and whispered in my ear, "Piracy is unlawful, even in places with no sea." My hand left my cheek hoping to meet the man's. But was caught before reaching its destination.
"If you will be so kind as to release my hand." He complied. I did a shallow curtsy, "Almirante."
He made a sly grin, "Oh, Miss Francesca you choose to be formal at the oddest times."
"I thought that you were the one that held the strong belief of serfdom being beneath you."
"But you are no serf Miss Francesca. Quite far from it if I do say so myself. Serfs are not allowed to enter a life of piracy at sea without the approval of their lord."
"I do move as I please."
A/N vootvoot. Review please, thank you.