Chapter 21: Greed vs Desire
Kei
May the 2nd of the year 1583:
Successful capture of the Spanish carrack La Belleza at Fourteen degrees N, Seventy-seven degrees W:
Casualties: none.
Loot:
Passenger count One hundred and sixty six, consisting of Ninety-four women and children and Seventy-two able bodied men
Fifty-three chests of women's silk and lace clothing
Thirty barrels of jerky
Fifteen barrels of fresh water
Ten barrels of oranges
A knock at the door. I paused, quill in mid air, eyes narrowing at the sound. The past several days had given far too little time for proper record keeping between the capture of the Belleza, the trading of goods at Tortuga and the preparation for the journey across the Atlantic. If this could be a matter that could be delayed until I finished my entry into the logbook—
A series of knocks this time, much more insistent. I sighed and placed the quill down. This had better be important. One look at my visitor proved me wrong.
"Can I help you?" I asked.
I was staring into a pair of jet-black pupils, vivid with anger, although the rest of his face displayed a calm mien. Ah, this must be about that boatswain. Given his expression, I surmised that he had somehow brought him back aboard the Pretear.
"Can I help you?" I repeated.
I was hoping that this encounter would conclude as quickly as possible. I had work to do and not nearly enough time to complete it all. Certainly there was no time to deal with this irrational anger.
"With what authority did you imprison the boatswain?" the first mate asked in a low voice with a hint of an edge.
I inwardly sighed. In my attempt to rid myself of one nuisance, I had created another.
"I apprehended the boatswain while he attempted to free our cargo. Given the severity of the crime, I gave punishment as appropriate to the situation," I replied evenly.
"Bypassing both the captain's and my authority?" he retorted.
I could see the twitch of muscle by his jaw; his anger that he had been unable to control the situation with the boatswain melded into the anger he was now experiencing by being unable to wrest control of this conversation. I had to admit I was mildly enjoying myself, but knew that I needed to end this before my disgust over his desperation manifested itself.
"Given that both you and the captain were otherwise occupied, I acted by the guidelines and my authority as second mate," I explained, trying to keep in the realm of rationality.
He remained silent after my statement. I saw a look pass across his face, one I knew quite well. It was the look of abject fear of losing something deeply desired. The look of lusting after an individual to the point of abandoning all reason. The weakness that permeated the men who visited her…
We were broke. That much was clear. But she refused to admit it. Living in her world of her own desires, she refused to face reality. My father was gone, and with him his trading company that was the source of everything my mother relished. Her jewels. Her dresses. Her elevated social status.
When I showed her the ledger filled with red, my mother blanched. Numbers could not lie—except I had manipulated them to. I made us appear even poorer than we had become to bring her to her senses.
So she began a business of her own. Young men and women—often boys and girls no older than I was—in the service of selling their flesh, populated our mansion. While I managed the finances, my mother sat back and enjoyed the money that flowed in. She dressed me as a girl, often in stupid frilly dresses to attract customers. I endured it, because I would soon get out of there. Just a little longer…
Then one day I saw her, breasts hanging out, panting like a dog in heat in the arms of a man. I watched with eyes narrowed at this depraved creature, relishing the look of utter lust the man viewed her with. I watched long enough to see him walk away after leaving a bag of coins beside her.
I grabbed my quill and logbook to input the earnings my mother had made.
"Dearest, you can bring the next customer to me?" she cooed as she held the bag of coins in her hand.
And my quill found itself buried in her neck, dyeing my ledger red once more.
As I wished to now. My hand curled around my quill as the silence continued, but I stayed my hand from lifting off of the desk. To my good fortune—or perhaps misfortune—he broke the silence.
"Very well. In the future, you are to report immediately to myself or the captain regarding matters of the crew," Hayate ordered.
I gave a curt nod in acquiescence, my hand relinquishing the quill somewhat reluctantly. After all, I did not wish to dye my ledger red, not especially now when it contained numbers flourishing with profit.
As the first mate turned to leave, I looked over in relief at my open logbook. Finally, I could resume my record keeping and be through with this nonsense. And then he suddenly spun around, grabbed the cuff of my ruffle and pushed me backwards to the wall.
"And do not ever touch the boatswain again, do you hear, second mate?" he half-growled.
His composure was completely gone, and I watched amusedly as strands of his hair flew into his face. So the captain's dog had an Achilles' heel after all that could blunt his blade. I noted the information for future reference.
I nodded as he released me and watched as he strode out. Desire—desire was a weakness that crushed you. But greed…
Her eyes were wide with surprise and fear, dull now that the life had been extinguished from them. Her neck had multiple punctures that were now only slowly spewing blood. I ripped off my white frock that was drenched in blood, picked up the bag of coins and whistled as I walked out of that hellhole.
That bag of the coins had been the beginning of my quest to sate my own greed. Profit and results were all that mattered, so long as they benefitted myself. I allowed myself a slight smile as I thought of how the boatswain had gone from a nuisance to a very useful tool.