It was high noon by the time Jed came down to the gallows to get them. He was to take them to what he called 'capn's quarters', so she could deal with them. By that time, all three of them were dirty, from the filthy seawater swirling around in the floor, and hungry from not having eaten since breakfast. And if McMatt didn't have his noontime tea, he thought he'd probably crack. They were brought up from the gallows, on deck, past the stairs which lead up to where the helmsman was, to a rather polished door, to which Jed mockingly bowed them inside, before entering the room himself.
The room they gathered in was a fair-sized room. It had several portholes on the walls, personal knick-knacks, but mostly objects like empty bottles of rum. There was a large table in the middle, with mismatched chairs placed randomly. There was a door at the back of the room, leading to, assumingly, the captain's rooms. But this was the meeting room. And seated at tthe head of the table, was Captain Irish Beck herself.
"So we gots ourselves a nav'gator, and some narrow-minded, pompous windbags who-"
"We are most certainly NOT windbags!" Emily screeched. Jed chuckled.
"-who," she glared at them pointedly, "think they can just be disruptin' our ways anyhow they think they like."
"So what're you going to do about it?" Jenn bravely asked, or rather, demanded.
"Well miss prissy, I was thinkin' of havin' yehs work with the crew, let them have yeh to themselves fer awhiles, put you on some far-off island, or jus' kill yeh. Take yer pick."
McMatt whispered to the girls, "She's the nicest pirate ever?"
"What was that, Matty?" said pirate demanded.
He squeaked, "Nothing, ma'am."
Suddenly, the edge of her sword was dangerously close to his neck. "I think yeh've had enough today, cap'n," Jed announced, distracting everybody.
"Eh? What? No! Jed! Give it back!"
Jed whispered to her in an undertone, "We need him remember?"
"Righ!," she said loudly. Beck removed her sword from the navigator's neck. McMatt sighed. "But you watch your mouth, n'gator."
He really, really didn't like drunk women.
"So what're you going to do, ladies?" Irish Beck asked menacingly.
"Uuuh... can we think first?" Emily asked quickly.
Jed glance at his scowling captain. "Jus' hurry up, okay? I like cap'n better when she's happy."
"Does she get weird mood swings or what?" Emily muttered as the three huddled together in a corner.
"I think thats what happens when you're drunk," Jen offered. The other two stared at her oddly. "What?"
"Anyways," McMatt said hurriedly, "I think we should either work with the crew or go off on an abandoned island."
Emily frowned, "I hate doing work."
"I used to play with animals a lot, and help my big brother in the stables sometimes. I don't mind," Jen volunteered.
McMatt thought for a few minutes. Emily looked at her best friend, utterly scandilaised.
While the trio were debating over their course of action, Jed was putting away his boss' alchohol. Beck was gazing out a large porthole warily. "Waves are getting a bit choppy. Looks like they might calm down in a bit though," she observed. "Aye cap'n," agreed Jed. They waited together silently for the little band to finish.
"Well?" Beck demanded, once they'd all turned around.
Mathieu spoke up, "We'll work with the crew." Emily didn't look too happy.
"Swell. Now yeh can start by cleaning the cannons, then swab the gallows. Mighty well mind, cuz thats where you'll be sleeping. I'll leave the rest to Rowdy here." Jed grinned, mind spinnig at what they could do.
Jed ushered them out of the room quickly, and shut the door behind them. He paused momentarily, and said, "Oei!," the little group turned to look at him anxiously, "Girl wit the pink- you go down past the crew's mess and go help the cook, you in the purple, go do what cap'n said. McMatt- since the cap'n don't need yeh jus' yet, you'll be working with miz prissy."
Mathieu tried to get out of it, "Doesn't she-the captain I mean- need help?"
Jed gave him a dirty look, "She can read maps fine, even if she is jugged."
"Sorry?"
"Eh, means drunk. You know, bashed, sloshed, and merry?"
Mathieu nodded, frowning slightly in disapproval. Jed shook his head, he'd get that uptight man drunk soon enough.
--
Jen and Mathieu plunked wearily down on one of the crew's benches in their eating place. Jed had worked them to the bone. He was quite strict about his job, or at least with aristiocratic newcomers. They had cleaned what felt like every inch of the ship, including the weaponry and the washrooms. It had been an awfully long day. Emily, it seemed had just as bad. She had spent the day learning from the taciturn cook, and cleaning dishes from breakfast to peeling potatoes for hours. Now she was serving the crew their food. The cook looked on with something akin to grim satisfaction on his face. Life on the seas wasn't as carefree as it looked. Emily finally brought forth their plates, some worn looking bread, potatoes, and fish. Since they didn't like alchohol, they got seawater.
"Ew!" Jen exclaimed, "I'm not eating this! It'll ruin my figure!" The pirates around them chuckled.
Emily looked at them apprehensively, "It actually gets worse."
Mathieu looked at the food, aghast. "We're doomed." He would've smacked his head on the table, but that was very un-gentleman-like so he just smacked his forehead on his palm instead.
"Are you going to eat that?" It was the grubby pirate.
"No," Jen pushed the plate away from herself, looking sick.
The pirate grinned and took the plate from her. "Me name's Big Jake. You're McMatt right?" he asked the young man.
"Its Mathieu."
"Whatever floats yer boat, I guess. Yeh should know- none of us is gonna call yeh that."
Mathieu didn't answer. Big Jake frowned slightly. Turning to the girls he asked, grinning alarmingly, "So what'd yeh do to get cap'n in a bad mood?
They both looked startled. He laughed. "Guess it wasn't you girlies then. Mighta been that ole scoundrel Greg. He's always asked fer a bit more money yeh know." Jake pointed at an tall, unshaven man who was nursing his ale, looking disappointed. "Yeh girls caused cap'n trouble, and then Greg comin' round at a bad time..."
"How'd we cause trouble?" Emily asked.
Jake spoke slowly, "Well not trouble, 'xactly, jus' some commotion. The men ain't used to having upper-class ladies round, which migh' cause 'em to loose their 'eads. Den, Cook's been complaining some, somethin' bout you there missy," he looked at her, "Ship's looking cleaner an' all, bu' I dunno, something jus' seems off."
Jen looked about thoughtfully, "We could dress us like men. That might help."
Jake looked stunned for a moment, and then started laughing. "Never...thought I see a lady offerin'...to change inter...men's clothes," he gasped between chortles.
Emily looked dismayed. "Jen! If I didn't know better, I'd think you might want to become a pirate like these...these theiving crooks!"
Instantly the whole room tensed. McMatt supposed everyone had been discreetly trying to listen in. He looked towards the stairs. Jed was standing there, hand halfway to sword, looking murderous.
"WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THAT? What makes you think we're all low-down cowards and robbers, eh? How would you like it iffen I started saying all you rich ladies were snobby, hoity-toity wenches that only cared about what aristo they did?" He stopped, having run out of breath and was glaring at her. Indeed, everyone was looking like they were going to rise out of their seats.
Suddenly, Irish Beck came into the room. She looked at Emily coldly and said, "Updstairs, now." Emily gave a quick, frightened glance at her friends, and then at Jake, who looked offended and refused to meet her gaze.
"I don't suppose I could have some tea, could I?" Mathieu asked, voice cracking slightly.
TBC