Chapter 32: Raise the Jolly Roger
"Awake, lady wake, I am waiting for thee,
Oh, this night or never my bride thou shalt be,
So wake, lady wake, I am waiting for thee,
Oh, this night or never my bride thou shalt be…"
The slumber I had fallen victim to rapidly lost its salubrious sweetness at the rather unwelcome introduction of some noticeably wretched singing. The person to ascribe the inescapable screeching to was unmistakably my comely and cocky Irishman, and although I appreciated his close presence, I absolutely could not bear his tone-deafness.
With a groan, I unbarred by locked eyelids and absorbed the blurry fragments of my current environment. Judging by my supine position and the stableness of the ground, I assumed that I was resting on land. However, as I sluggishly propped myself up into a sitting position, I realized that I was sitting in a bed that was most certainly not mine, and the room I was placed in was festooned with exotic, tropical plants and an immeasurable collection of odd and bizarre trinkets, figurines and other bibelots. Why, intermixed with the fat, stubby candles that lit the room were skulls, shells from the sea and… a jar of eyeballs?
The more I dared to explore the area, the more I found that probably the only normal element of the room was the bed I sat on. What made it even worse was that I was alone in the room; although, I could have sworn that I heard Tom's painful singing in close proximity.
"Jack?" I called out timorously, still highly cautious after observing my morbid surroundings.
My answer was empty air. Though, I was able to detect the minute movements of feet outside the room. Perhaps he's coming, I thought, stretching my arms as I readied myself for a complete departure from eternal sleep.
Upon standing, I felt slightly addled, almost as if I was waking from a night of undisturbed and heavy drinking. I knew, however, that that could not have been the case. I would have vomited if I had gotten myself as drunk as Davy's sow. The unsteadiness I was currently feeling felt more like a lack of food or nourishment, and now that I thought about it, I was ravenous for some wholesome, greasy grub and a whole barrel of grog (well, perhaps not a barrel, but certainly more than three tankards of it).
I looked down at my hands as I continuously brought in and released my fingers, noting my strangely pale complexion. At that moment, the door to the room finally opened, and I looked up, meeting Jack's startled face. He even let out a tiny "Ah!" while retracting his arms.
"What?" I asked. "What the bloody hell happened? I feel like I was hit with a boulder and left for dead."
"You look horrible, lass," he remarked, ignoring my question, as usual.
"I figured that, Daddy," I frowned. "Now what happened? All I remember is some French aristocrat grabbing me."
He grimaced a bit and approached me with his hands still recoiled, as if he expected me to lunge forward and attack him. His eyes were peculiarly focused on my jaw and neck, and due to his odd behavior, I returned the befuddled stare.
"What are you—"
"Say 'ah'," he proctored, and with a roll of my eyes, I obeyed. He examined my teeth with alarming interest, his eyes darting back and forth, from tooth to tooth.
After his dental observations, he relaxed and regained his complacent disposition, placing his hands on his hips and grinning his toothy, pirate-y grin.
"Well, that's a relief," he said, still unaware that he had not answered even one of my bloody questions; but, stupid as I was, I kept spitting out inquisitions.
"Why'd you look at my teeth?" I questioned.
"You mean you don't remember, love?"
"No, I don't," I growled. "If I did, I wouldn't have asked." Silly old man.
"Ah. Good point there," he replied nonchalantly before turning around and walking out of the room, naturally expecting me to follow; so I did.
The neighboring room contained a good, surprising amount of people, and I was almost shocked to find them all congregated in this one curious place.
"Astrid! You're alive!" shouted a familiar voice. A little bouncing fluff of brown hair came rushing toward me and embraced me tightly while I resumed being as confused as I was from the beginning.
"Um… Cord," I began, gradually prying her off me. "Why wouldn't I be alive?"
"Vampires," Jack coughed boisterously from behind, and I turned and glared at him before giving my sister my full attention.
"Papa is right, Astrid," said Cord. "You were bitten by one. Don't ye remember?" I was filled with that same incredulousness that I had expressed to Cord when I was last with her.
"Are you tellin' me that one o' them Frenchmen we was with drank me blood?"
"Aye," she answered earnestly, as if her point could never be argued.
"That's bloody impossible! There's no such thing as… as… as… vampires!"
"Why don't you look at yer pretty neck then, eh, bonnie?" Tom joined in, a mirror in his hand. Confident that I was the correct and sane one in the group, I snatched it from him and uttered some insult towards his poor singing before glancing at myself in the mirror.
At first, I didn't really notice anything different, but as I looked my closely, I noticed that there was a dried cut running along my left cheek—that's going to leave a scar—and on my neck were two small, but clearly visible puncture wounds.
My jaw dropped in terrified disbelief.
Good Lord! They weren't lying!
I unleashed a deafening scream and shoved the mirror away, instinctively running to Jack and clinging to him out of fear of the evident truth clearly displayed on my punctured neck. He simply kept his smug, all-knowing look while gently patting my shoulder in an unexpectedly fatherly manner.
"Hmm…" entered a new voice. I looked around and saw a young, brown-skinned woman walk forth in a heavy and tattered dress. Her face was marked distinctively with tattoos, and her large brown eyes were bloodshot with a wicked gleam. "Miss Sparrow find out 'bout her bite, eh?" she said teasingly, and my nose twitched at the comment.
"Who is she, Jack?" I whispered to him as I watched the rather scary-looking woman come forward with something in her hands.
"Astrid," said Jack, letting me go and nudging me towards her. "This is Tia Dalma, a good… friend… of mine; and ye'll be thankin' her for healin' ye."
At the mentioning of "thanks" the acclaimed Tia Dalma set her dark eyes directly on Jack and said, calmly, "Ye haven't paid me back for dis yet." Knowing very well that she was right, but refusing to show his guilt, he plainly said:
"You mean you didn't like the monkey?"
"Ya give me ten monkeys already, Jack," she replied, still unappeased.
"Here then, Miss Dalma," interrupted Cord with a smile. She pulled a handkerchief out of her dress pocket and handed it to her. "It's the vampire's hanky and…" She dug into her other pocket for something else and surfaced a ring of some sort, a very big gold ring. "… this."
Tia was slightly unhappy with the handkerchief bit, but when she found a strand of silvery-blond hair in it, she changed her mind and showed a genuinely pleased smile.
"Your daughters are getting bettah than you, Jack Sparrow," she said wryly, wrapping her tanned fingers around the objects and hiding them away in the pockets of her dress.
"Well, o' course they are," countered Jack gladly. "That's why they're my daughters." Switching audiences, his veered to his crew and continued: "Tom, Gibbs, Ana Maria, let's get back to sea."
"Wait," I said, turning to the Dalma. "What exactly are you going to do with that stu—" Cord had yanked my arm and thus interrupted me before I could finish. By Tia's sinister smile, I could tell that she was up to something, but my assumptions were proved wrong.
"Take dis, Miss Sparrow," she said, putting a beaded necklace of some sort in my hand. "You don't need ta fear. I never hurt Jack's daughters."
Before I could even say thank-you, Cord had pulled me out of Tia's abode and helped me into a boat, in which I noticed that the infamous Dalma had given me, out of all things, a rosary.
On the boat ride down the river and back to the ship, Cord permitted herself to explain the rest of the events of that mysterious night. Firstly, she informed me that I had been out of consciousness for a good three days. Damn. Secondly, she then told me that she had run away from me to find Tom, which she successfully did. Though, upon her return to the alleyway she had abandoned me at, she found me lying limply on the ground with a pool of my blood leaking underneath my neck and being surrounded by a growing circle of people.
"Tom used yer 'social magnetism,' that's what he called it, to get more men under your name, and he got you your full fifty. He then picked ye up and we went back to the ship where Jack thought ye was dead."
How kind, Daddy…
"What did the old man do?" I inquired dully, expecting what followed to be disgraceful.
"He took ye in his own arms and got all serious. He told everyone to make sail straight away, forgetting 'bout anythin' else and so off we went to Dalma's. We didn't get any sleep that night. We sailed straight through the night for ye, ma soeur. Daddy didn't want it any other way."
I couldn't help but smile at her story. I had been rather disrespectful to Jack since I became reunited with him, most likely because I still hadn't forgiven him for letting me go. He was a good man through and through, however, and I should have never doubted his abilities. For God's sake, my father was Captain Jack Sparrow! There was no disgrace in that, and I was certain that there never would be.
Jack was fairly pleased with Tom and mine's recruiting selections, and I had to admit that I was adequately content as well. The men we hired were knowledgeable, fun-loving, jolly ex-sailors and were instantly devoted to their captain and fellow shipmates. They were a mixed bunch, ranging from strong and fit Brother Jonathans, to the dutiful runaway slaves. I liked my crew already.
I did have a problem with the Dons and Frogs on the ship, despite their clear amiability for me and all other British citizens (or ex-citizens) on the ship. The Frenchies had it in their nature to be slightly supercilious, and the Dons had it in their blood to always be slightly fiery-tempered. Of course, I didn't get annoyed with them for just those two stupid reasons. The one thing that bothered me the most about them was the fact that I could scarcely understand a word they said. The language barrier was driving me mad.
My French, although tolerable, was limited, and my Spanish was practically nonexistent. Oh, what I wouldn't give to have Roland with me right now, I wished, but alas, he was off on the Black Pearl probably getting cozy with Mad Annie. Bastard.
We were fortunate enough to have one Spanish sailor who was fluent in English and could translate for us, but such a task was so tedious. I knew Jack was aware of the problem, but he let it go on as if it wasn't a big deal, and when I questioned him about his lack of involvement in trying to make sense out of his crew, he told me that the language of a pirate was universal and that the Dons and Frenchies would catch on soon enough.
"Mad Anne would have gotten the treasure and would be queen of seas by the time that happens, Jack," I argued. "You need to teach them English."
"Hmm, teach 'em English? Well, why can't we jus' learn Spanish and French? It's the same thing."
"No, it's not," I replied. "It's harder." He gave me a look that showed that he was far from being convinced of my point and I gave in with a sigh. "Fine," I said. "I'll try and learn some bloody Spanish and French."
He smiled, and I took it that he was proud of me for being more agreeable. I decided to leave him be with his wheel and waved him a farewell when he said, "Be sure to tell me what ye learn. I can't bloody understand a thing these Spaniards are saying."
Well, I thought, grinning despite my irritation at his laziness. Two can play it that way.
"Cord!" I hailed. "Would you like to do a favor for me?"
My little sister, despite her innocent looks, was far smarter than I thought and she knew what I was up to from the moment I asked for her assistance.
"I ain't going to learn a language for you," she fired back. "We are both going to learn Spanish, and do not get angry with me when we do just because I get better than you." There we go again with the French haughtiness.
"Fine, fine," I uttered miserably. Curses.
Our Spanish tutor was to be one Erwan Guerra, a man of about thirty with black hair, green eyes and a thin mustache that Cord and I seemed to find positively hilarious. He was the only Don on the ship who knew English, and, surprisingly, he knew French as well.
"My mother," he explained, "was French, and my father was obviously a Spaniard." He paused with an added glower. "Stop giggling, you chattering cucarachas." And, ironically, he was stroking his funny mustache while Cord and I bubbled out more laughter behind our hands. He muttered a complaint in Spanish before trying to get our attention again, which he sadly managed to do after asking for the bosun's cat o' nine tails. "Ah, quiet now, eh, las gatitas?" he sneered.
Hey, we're not a batch of bloody kittens, I grumped, but we fell silent nonetheless.
"Erwan!" called the lookout from the crow's nest. Cord and I leaned our heads back as we looked up the mast and at the young Don who was pointing at something in the distance.
"Que, Hernán?" answered Erwan, unnerved by the interruption. His face, however, lost all annoyance when he received the lookout's reply, and he swiftly abandoned Cord and me to go to Jack, who, as usual, was standing by the wheel.
"We've spotted a ship," he told him.
"Where away?" I interjected, having followed him and getting quite excited. They only looked at me with furrowed eyebrows, and so I repeated myself, believing that they had not heard me clearly the first time. The repetition, unfortunately, did not give the effect I wanted it to.
"Love," said Jack after nearly five minutes of silence. He led me towards the starboard railing of the ship on the quarterdeck and spoke with a low tone. "These sailors don't know that jargon, Astrid. Hell, neither do I. Yer not in the navy anymore, love. Remember: pirate." I grinned sheepishly at the information. I had entirely forgotten that I was indeed on a pirate ship and the rules and language of a British man-of-war did not apply. Although, after being conditioned to work like a proper British seaman, I knew it would take a hefty amount of un-conditioning to get me fully adjusted to the free life.
With a complete understanding of Jack's point, I turned back to Erwan and asked, "Where's the ship?"
"Hernán said a little off to the right of this rail."
"How far?"
"Maybe one and a half kilometers," he estimated with a shrug. Jack and I exchanged glances as we came to comprehend the small distance between us and that ship.
"The jack?" questioned Captain Sparrow, taking out his spyglass and handing it to me. While Erwan was yelling in Spanish to our lookout, Jack turned to me and whispered, "I want ye to go up to the crow's nest. Find out her size and find out what type of jack she has, aye?"
"Aye." I unknowingly gave him a salute and he only quirked his eyebrows at me. Dammit. You're not a ship's boy anymore, Astrid. Think like a pirate. Be a God damn pirate!
With that reminder in tow, I scampered to the ratlines and scaled the ropes until I reached the crow's nest, where I was greeted rather rudely by the Spanish lookout. He didn't seem too happy to have me up there with him, supposedly doing a part of his job. He knew who I was, however. He knew I was the captain's daughter and he gave me my room, even if he did consent to my presence with a harsh glare in his light-brown eyes.
Well, how'd you like it if I pushed you out and over the crow's nest, eh, Donny? How'd you like it when you fall and hit the deck and your brains scatter everywhere? That's right. Treatin' me with such cheek. Ye know, I've really had enough of you men. I really have. I—
By the dulled look on his face, I judged that he had lost interest in his duty (and my presence), and he turned around and looked in the other direction while I stuck the end of the spyglass to my left eye and scanned the tame blue main for our targeted vessel.
Erwan was not that far off when he postulated the approaching ship's distance from us. They were getting close, quickly, and by the looks of it, they meant business. I noted her jack, which, not surprisingly, was French, and I had grinned at the sight of it without even knowing what I was doing.
So… how many guns does little Froggy have? I veered my eyes to what I could see of the hull and deck of the ship, and my grin, also without my awareness, vanished. Little Froggy ain't so little after all.
I snapped the spyglass shut and was about to lean over and deliver my report via screaming when I realized that the Spanish lookout was no longer up in the crow's nest with me. Why, he was already on deck and talking (through Erwan) with Jack!
"Hey!" I screeched, insulted that the Spaniard was trying to outdo me. I descended from the crow's nest and landed on deck with a huff and marched over to my father who was now joined by not only the two previously mentioned Dons, but now Tom, an American and Monsieur Baudin.
"She's French. Maybe seventy guns," I stated, interrupting their trilingual discussion.
"Hernán told us already, bonita," chuckled Erwan, and my nose flared at the jests. I turned to Jack, and then to the oh-so-glorified Hernán and then back to Jack and stuck the spyglass back in his hand.
"Yer not going to outrun her nor are ye gonna be able to claim her as a prize with yer puny guns or swords." For some reason, all the men looked down at the pistols and blades at their belts. Well, all of them except the Frenchman who smirked at the comment.
"Are you sayin' somethin', bonnie?" Tom posed with a wry smile as he peered at me. Naïve as I was, I had no idea what he was suggesting.
"I'm sayin' that whatever ye have below yer belts isn't up to par with those of the French! What's so difficult to understand?"
"I think I like this girl," Baudin remarked as he stroked his chin, and they all laughed at that.
"I don't think I'll partake in these puns anymore, gents." Jack coughed and looked at me. "Astrid, love, get to the point. Yer makin' yer shipmates happy," he said, seemingly awkward himself.
"What? A French warship is right on your tail an' yer laughin' at me? What the hell is wrong with you all?" I shrieked, ready to smack them for their inside chortles.
"I think I'll just surrender, Astrid," said Tom as he raised hands in the air in another one of his feigned defeats. "I can't beat those bloody French at your game. Unless…" He took a stride towards me. "Unless I actually play with you."
I saw Jack make a dry wretch as he heard the words and by the glimmer in Tom's eyes, I finally, finally, got what they were all talking about; and I made my discovery known with a wave of verbal rage.
"Ooh, you little bastards! You always mess up everything I bloody say! I didn't bloody mean it like that! Good God! You take things enormously out of proportion!" I punched Tom in the arm while he just laughed like no tomorrow. And to think that I said such things in front of my father too. I couldn't stop the red from flooding to my cheeks.
But my shipmates' naughty minds gave me a very prime idea, and I cut off their laughter with a girlish giggle and a flutter of my eyelashes that would make any Tortuga wench proud.
"Daddy," I said. "How much rum did you load onto your ship?" He refused to give me a number and simply replied:
"Why?"
"I'm going to need a lot of it. The French on that ship there are going to have a very special guest tonight."
"Dammit," snapped Tom. He turned to Baudin and pointed at the smugly smiling Frog. "You bloody French always get the fun."
Fun, indeed, you bastard, I sneered inwardly. Fun, indeed.
I was directed to the lieutenant's cabin with such civility that I actually admired the French dress Cord forced me to buy months ago. It could work miracles when put on. To add to my luck, Cord, my convenient French translator, was standing right beside me, wiping her face with a hanky given to her by the French first lieutenant whose room we stood in. However, she was not drying tears of sadness. She was mopping up the residue of a good, fake cry and I had done the same but moments before.
My father and non-French comrades had followed in suit of Tom's feigned surrenders as we allowed the French warship to approach us. When they got within a pistol shot, Cord and I unleashed our wondrously ill-rehearsed plan and screamed at the top of our lungs as we pretended to struggle with some artificial bonds. I had told Jack to make it seem as if he was holding Cord and me as French prisoners. Therefore, he tied us up to the foremast and Cord and I howled and wailed like banshees until our French "saviors" came alongside and ordered the "fiendish pirates" to surrender, lest they want their ship pulverized. Jack pretended to be stubborn, but he eventually gave in, and the French captain, who to my disappointment was rather old and crusty, came onboard and was given Captain's Sparrow's sword in the proper rules of defeat.
Cord and mine's pirate mates had their hands bound and were brought to the French warship to be locked in the brig while the Frogs gladly looted our ship of its goods; and, needless to say, they found a particular interest in our vast collection of rum. Bless you, Daddy!
In the midst of the fraudulent defeat, Cord and I were untied from the foremast quite delicately by some Froggy sailors and were led directly to their ancient captain. I grimaced as I tried to keep in mind the role I had to play in our little scheme every time I had to look at him, and that was, to my misfortune, very often.
It was a good thing though, that the better-looking first lieutenant volunteered to give his lodgings to Cord and me instead of having us split up in the following fashion: me with the captain and Cord with the bosun. I would have fainted if I was inclined to remain in the captain's constant company and I'd die before I saw my little sister surrendered to some fat, grubby man.
"What are we to do now, ma soeur?" whispered Cord as she handed me the lieutenant's handkerchief.
"Our mission is to have ourselves invited to dine with the officers tonight, in which I will urge them to allow their crew to celebrate their victory with an unlimited supply of rum. They'll get dead drunk, and then you will go free our friends from the brig, and then we'll toss these Frenchies on some God forsaken island and take their ship. Sound good?"
"Aye, but how d'ye expect to—" She bit her lip as we heard the door to the cabin creak open, and she and I spun around, me quickly stuffing the lieutenant's hanky into the sleeve of my dress.
To our relief, it was but a midshipman who politely informed us that we were to dine with the captain and his officers that night. Splendid. At least the first part of the plan was accomplished. He said some more French phrases which I could hardly understand. Perhaps the only thing I understood was something about a tour of the ship.
When the mid left Cord and me, I asked her what he told us and he said that he'd be happy to show us around the ship after dinner with the captain and that he would come by to the cabin again at precisely eight bells or, in my nautical understanding, at eight o'clock in the evening or at the start of the First Watch.
"Though, I must tell you, ma soeur," she added to her translation. "He seemed to be speaking with a lusty undertone."
I should have known…
"T'won't matter, sister," I told her. "Astrid has everything under control." Before she could even reply, the door to the cabin swung open again and this time the dashing First Lieutenant was waiting for us at the entrance. He bowed to the both of us and kissed both our hands before he escorted us from his cabin to his captain's quarters.
On the way there, I prayed rather desperately for the captain to suddenly double over and pass into the next life so that the acting captain would be the more aesthetically pleasing first mate. Though, as I was never much of the religious person, God never granted me anything and the captain seemed in rather good health as we entered his quarters. As anticipated, I was prompted to sit next to the captain with Cord by my side, and as was the usual custom, the captain's second in command sat on his other side. That meant that I'd be sitting opposite a fairer man and would therefore feel less awful for playing my coquettish tricks on them.
Bring on the rum, me hearties. Let's see how well ye all can take the liquor.
It was decided that I speak not a word in their company as my French accent was horrible and they'd be suspicious of my true heritage. Cord was instructed to do the same since it would also be strange if a ten year old girl was doing all the talking; and so we simply replied to anything said to us with a mixture of shrugs, hmm's, nods, and tsk's. It didn't go without my attention however, that one of the men at the table, the sailing master, if I judged correctly, was eyeing Cord and me with more than plain suspicion. He looked downright ready to kill us both.
Slyly, I nudged Cord with my elbow and flicked my stare from my food to the sailing master, and she got it and decided that it was time we start talking.
"Comment allez-vous, Capitaine?" she asked, setting her fork and knife down as she faced the aged captain and smiled.
The old man grinned and looked at his first lieutenant, leaning slightly and whispering to him something about Cord being such an angel. He then looked back at us and said, with a deep rasp in his throat, that he was overjoyed to have our company and to have so easily captured a pirate vessel. I pretended to giggle at the comment and veered towards Cord and whispered in her ear, casting a side glance at the captain and lieutenant before Cord issued her own chortles.
"Perhaps you should celebrate," she said in French. "That is what my sister suggests you do."
"Bien sûr," replied the lieutenant eagerly, a glimmer in his eye. He turned to the captain and they exchanged a few words before the old man ordered that his entire crew be given a generous ration of rum taken from their spoils.
All of the men cheered, made a toast, and thus the merry drinking commenced most favorably according to our plan.
A job well done, sister.
The midshipman's "lusty undertone" eventually got the better of him when I incorporated his greed into my plot to gain the French warship. It was no easy thing to do either. As promised, the mid came by to show Cord and me around the vessel, and he revealed his true intentions quite early on.
As soon as we got to the berth-deck, he gradually began to drive Cord away, making stupid suggestions to get her out of our company by saying things such as, "Why don't you stay with the sailors for while?" or "The men are singing a few songs. Why don't you join them, little girl?" She'd only snort in reply at the transparent, foolish boy, but she pretended to finally give in to his proposals and decided to join the company of a few French sailors; that is, the group of French sailors that included Monsieur Baudin and his friends.
The French pirates of our crew were deemed as captives of those most "dreadful" pirates as well and were therefore written into the log book of the French warship. Thus, they were spared of any grueling fate. I trusted them enough that they wouldn't go back on Jack, and it seemed as if they'd keep to their word for Baudin sent a wink to me as Cord ran to him, leaving me and the dense midshipman alone.
Cord's absence drove the mid to execute his plans all the quicker, and he did not hesitate to bring me down to the hold, which, might I add, was particularly dark, perfect for… well, that, and his breath began to get noticeably shallow.
God, Cordelia, I do hope that you remembered what you have to do, I prayed as the mid laid his hands on my shoulders and bent his head close to my neck.
I tried to remain calm as he hooked his fingers in the back of dress to unbutton it, but my nerves were truly being tested as I waited and waited for Cord to do her part of the plan.
Dammit, Cord. Hurry up! The lad's already on my—
I gave a yelp and spun around, instinctively slapping the mid in the face after he pinched me most grotesquely, and he glowered at me as his hand touched the sore spot on his face. Needless to say, he wasn't so romantic afterwards.
Before I could make a run for it and make a scene, he seized my arm and pulled me towards him, determined to make a man of himself (whatever man that is). He set his hands on my shoulders once again, but this time, he pushed me down and forced me to kneel, and then he pushed be backwards so that I'd fall on my back. Flashes of that horrible night with Griffith lit up in my mind and I couldn't help but start to get worried.God, no, not again. Please. Please. Save me.
And lo and behold, the sound of a set of footsteps trampled down the stairs leading down into the hold, and there was Cord holding up a lantern as the first lieutenant of the ship came down, immediately spotting the lecherous lesser officer with a monstrous scowl.
The boy hardly had any time to spit out his excuse. He was hauled up off his feet and given a straight blow to the face, and, according to Cord, he was also given a rather derogatory name.
With the boy justly chastened, my bold French savior gently lifted me up off the ground and promptly carried me all the way up to his cabin, where he set me down in his hammock and left me and Cord in his room to rest before leaving to attend to some other, more pressing business. And, in the privacy of his cabin, I finally issued my great relief.
"Thank you, sister," I sighed, rubbing my face with my hands as I steadied my quaking self.
"See? I always pick the opportune moment," she comforted, placing the lantern on the floor and coming over to sit on the edge of the hammock.
"Did you learn that from Jack?" I posed, looking up at the ceiling and musing over why Cord had such luck and I didn't.
"I guess so," she replied, shrugging. "Now what are we going to do?"
"Nothing," I said. "I'll wait in here until the lieutenant comes back, and you go check to see if the French sailors are getting happy with rum."
"They are," she answered. "Baudin took care of that. Ye should have seen 'em, ma soeur. They are drunken little cucarachas."
Ah. Good, good. Very good.
There was a knock on the cabin, and in French, I gave the approval of entrance. The first lieutenant stepped in and gave a shallow bow to both of us before her told Cord that Monsieur Baudin had a question for her. She acknowledged the bit of news and went out the door after thanking the Frenchman, leaving me alone, lying down in a hammock, with the endearing young man.
He glanced at me briefly before casually taking off his coat and unbuckling his sword from his belt. I watched him for no reason in particular. He was the only thing that moved in the room, and therefore, my eyes were trained to look at him. Well, that along with the fact that he was lean and handsome coupled with the fact that he had saved me from that awful midshipman.
"Comment vous appelez-vous?" I asked him, and he turned around, a bit startled that I had spoken to him.
Recovering from his stupor, he plainly said that he was fine, and asked me the same question in return.
"Pas mal, Monsieur," I answered. He then proceeded to ask me what my name was, and I told him my name was Gabrielle. He honored me with his name and rank, and thus, I came to know the identity of this brave Frog: First Lieutenant Albert.
The rest of our conversation continued with the common form of ask-a-question-get-an-answer, and I was getting worried that he wouldn't be distracted enough to ignore everything that happened outside his cabin door. So I decided to make the inquisition more personal.
"Are you married, Monsieur Albert?" I asked him in his native tongue.
It was either that he knew that I wanted to distract him, or he had planned on keeping me to himself for the night because he merely chuckled lightly at my question and responded with, "Are you?" And I was the one who ended up blushing from the personal inquiry.
"Non, Monsieur," I replied indignantly. He came forward and leaned down over me.
"Good," he said in French. "Neither am I." And he lowered his head at an angle to prove it when we were disrupted by a most boisterous banging on the cabin door.
At the interruption, he pressed his lips together as he frowned at his cabin entrance and made way towards the door. He opened it with a yank and there on the other side was the captain himself.
I sat up in the hammock and leaned over so I could hear what they were saying better. Though, I regretted doing so, for the first bit of information I caught was that the captain was requesting my company and that dashing Lieutenant Albert and any other man for that matter, could not lay a finger on me until they reached Marseille.
Uh oh…
Lieutenant Albert protested as politely as he could, but the ancient captain would hear none of it. He stepped directly into the room and in a far more comforting voice, ordered me to stand and go to his cabin. And so once again, I was forced to place my fate in the hands of my sister, who I hoped was getting Baudin and his men ready for their parts in the plan.
Before I followed after the captain, the lieutenant took my arm and whispered that'd he'd come back to get me before the night was over. All right, Frenchie. You go ahead and do that. All I could do was nod at him before leaving with the old fossil, grimacing inwardly as I made the slow trek to my doom.
I was greatly alarmed when I was permitted into his quarters, for, if I counted correctly, there wasn't just the captain in the cabin. Two other men were in there as well, and, might I add, they were in different states of undress. One was in nothing but a shirt and his pantaloons, and another wore the same attire but with his vest and collar on, the later of which was being loosened as I walked in.
Great God! What the hell is going on!
"Undress her," proctored the captain to the two vulgar men. I recoiled with a bitter frown, but they were quick. My arms were grabbed and I was hauled forward, closer to the captain who was removing his captain's jacket with much shaking and aching in his bony hands. And as I looked at him trying to disguise my disgust, I realized that he needed the two men there because he was far too old to be the lovely charmer I knew many other youths to be. I figured that he just wanted it done so that he got his pleasure and I got my shame.
I struggled to no avail, and while I thrashed and muttered curses at them, one bugger kept a hold of my arms and the other gladly ripped open the back of my dress and set at once to loosening my corset.
You're not makin' anymore progress, ye filthy mome!
The man who kept my arms under control received a good jab in the face from my elbow, but he just squeezed me all the harder and I decided that I'd have to plead the sympathies of the aged captain who did nothing but watch the whole ordeal with a half-closed eyelid.
"I will do nothing in the company of your men," I said in French. "I can handle this by myself. I can and will undress myself, but not with these two idiots." The two Toads laid their burning eyes on the captain, reminding him that he had originally promised them some "fun" of their own. The captain, however, waved them off, and I judged that he felt young again at my request to be alone with him and him only.
The bumpkin duo released me angrily and stormed out, and it might have been just me, but I could have sworn that as soon as they closed the cabin doors behind them, I heard their curses suddenly muffled most abruptly. But whatever I did hear was of no concern to the captain for he simply uttered another order for me to lie down in his hammock. He then added that I'd have to take off my dress and corset before I laid myself down.
With a deep sigh, and as slowly as I possibly could, I commenced to take off my dress.
First the shoulders. All right, keep it there. Now the corset. Don't want to show him anything just yet. In fact, best not to show him anything at all.
"Turn around," he said as I sluggishly unlaced my corset. Gulping, I did as I was told, and he came around so that his back was facing the door and he was standing right behind me. He gripped my hands and took the strings of the corset out of my grasp and unsteadily began to undo the undergarment himself. That somewhat worked to my benefit. He was slower than I was.
God, Cord. Hurry up before this bloke finishes!
To my great misfortune, the fossil had successfully untied my corset and was gradually pulling it apart, and his breath was getting short because it began to moisten the back of my neck at a speedier pace.
Suddenly, at the most impromptu of moments, the doors to the cabin opened with a 'creak' and both the captain and I spun around. And lo and behold! There stood my fine Irishman with a very disgruntled look on his face.
The captain, outraged, abandoned me at once to curse and spit at the "no-good pirate," and Tom easily stepped aside, knocked the old man in the back of the head with a wooden plank, and down fell the Frog, straight onto the floor of his cabin.
"It's about time you bloody got here!" I shrieked as Tom came towards me. I gave him a punch and to counter my assault, he grabbed my face and squished my cheeks as he looked down at me.
"Well, considering that we have to get nearly four hundred Frogs off this godforsaken boat, I'd say that the least ye can do is cut me some slack, bonnie. And what's that? Is that your bare back, I see?"
"Shut up, Tom," I growled, despite blushing inside. "Pick up the old man."
The cocky Irishman at least obeyed that order and lifted the unconscious captain up off the floor, and we headed out of the cabin to meet up with the others.
Cord greeted us first as she gleefully bounced up and down at our success.
"I did just as you asked, ma soeur," she cheered. "Baudin and his men, bein' the only buggers who weren't drunk, went down to the brig, freed everyone and they all came up and started packin' the sottish Frenchman into boats."
"Good. Where's Jack?"
"Making sure his rum didn't all go to waste," Tom answered.
"All right. Let's get the rest of these Frogs off. This ship is ours." I was about to take a step forward when I remembered that Lieutenant Albert was still conscious and sober. Dammit. And he was perhaps the only person who was armed on the ship at that time. What made it worse was that he had heard all the commotion and had just emerged from his room, the first thing he saw being me and me expressionless face.
"A clever little putain aren't you?" he sneered, all amiable features vanishing from his voice. A pistol was in his hand as he spoke and he raised it at us.
"Dammit, run!" barked Tom, glaring at Cord and me. My sister and I exchanged quick glances before we took off; but we didn't far before a shot was fired.
By the time Cord and I had reached the upper deck, the French threat was on the ebb. Most of the Frogs were too drunk with rum to understand what was going on, and (for once) the sober pirate was able to get rid of them without swords or blood. Well, all except for one.
Tom had managed to come up with us despite the bullet wound smack in his bleeding arm. The unconscious captain was still hanging limply over his shoulders and the aforementioned bastard, Lieutenant Albert, was lying in a forced slumber on the deck below. How Tom happened administer a strong enough blow to knock the lieutenant out was certainly not holding its own position on my sea of thoughts. I was just glad that he did it, did it quick, and got away without further injury.
Jack spotted his daughters almost instantly and left his natural post by the helm to meet us and he greeted us with a grin and, separately, to me a, "Well, look at you, love. Disheveled-looking with the back of your dress undone and a bleeding Irishman at your arm." He paused, seeing my sour reaction to his mockery. "And with a French warship at your mercy. Well done, lass."
"Well," I started, trying to be modest. "It wasn't easy."
"Ye got that right. Only a fourth of me rum is left," he grumped, shaking his head.
"So where are we putting these sailors?" I asked, for he was obviously busy getting rid of them before I came on deck.
"There's an island but a quick boat ride away. We're pilin' them into the ship's boats and droppin' them off there."
"Where's Baudin and his mates?"
"Gettin' the rest of the Frogs still hiding in the ship."
"Well, here's another for ye, cap'n," moaned Tom as he heaved the old captain off his shoulders and down at Jack's feet. Then, with a grin at all three Sparrows, he said, nonchalantly, "Oh, don't mind me grumpiness. I just have a—" He cursed. "—bullet in my—" He cursed again. "—arm."
"Such bad language!" Cord chided, waving a finger at him, and he tolerated her reprimands with a jolly, "Oh! Ye wanna see it, Cordelia? Well, here." He shoved his bloody arm in her face and she squealed with disgust and hid behind Jack.
Jack, ignoring what had just happened with an incredulous look on his face, turned to me and said, "Astrid, the French took our ensign when they looted our ship. Well, we have it back now, so I want you to take it and raise the Jolly Roger. Savvy?"
I became speechless from the honor, and no matter how hard I tried to scream with delight, I couldn't. They just came out as incomplete gasps of bliss.
Hernán happened to stop by with the Jolly Roger in hand, and I snatched it from him with a hoot and sped off down the deck.
Pirate at last!