Elizabeth fell asleep in the captain's bed next to her son, in case he
should wake up and need her. Jezebel napped in the desk's chair for a
short time, but it was an uneasy sleep and she quickly snapped awake again.
She realized that there was no way she would be able to go back to sleep.
This, however, was something Jezebel was used to. She had quickly learned
from her years in Tortuga and at sea that one had to be constantly vigilant
lest they be taken advantage of. And so she grabbed her half empty bottle
of rum, slid from the room and out onto the deck of the ship.
It was crisp and cool outside with a wind that, were the sails raised, would have moved The Ladybird smooth and fast through the waters. But even Jezebel had to admit that she was much too tired to sail just now. She decided instead to lie upon the floor of the ship, right in the center, and drink her rum while looking up at the clear sky. The rocking of the boat was soothing to Jezebel; she had always been far more comfortable at sea than on land. Pirates and sailors Jezebel could relate to; but not those who lived on land. When she had first arrived at Port Royal she had hoped to speak with William Turner the pirate and sailor, not his wife, the loving mother of a five-year-old child. Though Jezebel had to admit that Elizabeth seemed far tougher than she appeared.
It only took a few minutes for Jezebel to finish off her bottle of rum and fall back into a deep slumber, the empty bottle rolling out of her hands and across the deck of the ship. In her dreams Jezebel recalled the other captains she had worked for and the other crews she had been with before anyone had ever known she was a girl. But her happy dreams quickly turned nightmarish when images of her run in with the East India Trade Company and all the consequences of that capture filled her head. The rest of the night Jezebel maintained an uneasy sleep.
It was crisp and cool outside with a wind that, were the sails raised, would have moved The Ladybird smooth and fast through the waters. But even Jezebel had to admit that she was much too tired to sail just now. She decided instead to lie upon the floor of the ship, right in the center, and drink her rum while looking up at the clear sky. The rocking of the boat was soothing to Jezebel; she had always been far more comfortable at sea than on land. Pirates and sailors Jezebel could relate to; but not those who lived on land. When she had first arrived at Port Royal she had hoped to speak with William Turner the pirate and sailor, not his wife, the loving mother of a five-year-old child. Though Jezebel had to admit that Elizabeth seemed far tougher than she appeared.
It only took a few minutes for Jezebel to finish off her bottle of rum and fall back into a deep slumber, the empty bottle rolling out of her hands and across the deck of the ship. In her dreams Jezebel recalled the other captains she had worked for and the other crews she had been with before anyone had ever known she was a girl. But her happy dreams quickly turned nightmarish when images of her run in with the East India Trade Company and all the consequences of that capture filled her head. The rest of the night Jezebel maintained an uneasy sleep.