Buccaneers

Part 2

More than a week passed before I caught my first glimpse of the captain, which was as well, for had I seen him before we pulled away from the docks I might have found my mind changed and discovered a preference for life on land. He was as alarming a person as I had ever laid eyes upon - foul of appearance and foul of odor. His hair was jet black and matted and he sported a beard so thick and matted too it was impossible to tell where one started and other finished, if indeed there was any demarcation. His upper lip was bare of whiskers, but sported tattoos instead which extended up over his fleshy cheeks. Surprisingly, his clothes were a good deal cleaner than he was, his boots also shiny and well-tended. The scathing look he gave me could have withered a wheatfield, and I was glad his gaze passed over me seeing no need to comment. From the way the crew fell silent as he moved among them it was clear that none held him in any positive regard. Only Garrett spoke, giving a report of weather conditions and the expected journey time if the winds prevailed, and then the dreaded Captain Eleazar disappeared below decks.

Grumbling broke out as soon as the hatchway had closed after him, and it transpired that he was feared and loathed in equal measure.

"Watch your back, Pretteh," someone sniggered at me.

"Best watch your front as well, boy," someone else added, but I had no idea what they meant.

A couple more days into the voyage, I finally had a night's sleep without throwing up the lumpy gruel that was our regular fare. The burly man in the hammock next to me slurred, "Got your sea-legs now, Pretteh? No more hurlin' your guts?" and I inferred that he was being solicitous.

"I hope not," I answered.

The night after that I was woken from a deep sleep and pulled unceremoniously to the floor. Sleep-drugged and slow, I was barely aware of what was happening as two men tore off my trousers and undergarments, holding me down. The other - I can scarce say what he did, or at least attempted to do. I had gained my wits sufficiently by then to fight, though they laughed at me. I swore and cursed, and I threatened, and the burly man, my hammock neighbor, came from behind me and stood in front.

"I grow tired of your whining voice, Pretteh. I'll give you something to do with that mouth of yours, with your accent and your tones and your ways. Thought you'd like a life on the ocean waves, eh? Well, there are women aplenty in the ports, but none out here in the blue, and we get by with what we find, until the real thing comes along. You'll do for a while, Pretteh, you'll do."

To my horror he shoved his member hard into my mouth, and when I bit him he and the others punched me. I resisted until I subsided into unconsciousness, and I came around when it was still dark, finding myself aching and sore everywhere, with a disgusting, bitter taste lingering on my tongue.

Ignoring my duties in the morning, I went straight to Garrett, painful though it was to walk. I described the crimes perpetrated upon me the previous night and showed him my bruises, insisting that some action be taken against the offenders.

"Well, Pretteh," he said, "It's your own fault. It's not natural for a man to go without a woman, and here's all these red-blooded menfolk about, at sea for weeks and weeks with no females in sight. You have that fine way of talking, and you keep yourself so clean and nice - and you're so pretty - what are these fellows supposed to think?"

"Then take me to the Captain! He'll hear me!" I demanded.

"You'll not want to attract his attention, Pretteh, I'm warning you. Best get over it, or sort it out for yourself," was the indifferent response.

This was intolerable! I had been assaulted and abused - and nothing was to be done about it?

At University I had been quite sporting, in between bouts of opium-induced incapacitation, and I turned away from Garrett, marching to the bottom of the mainsail. Demetri, my tormentor, was up in the rigging, repairing tears in the rope. I had never climbed a rope in my life, but I grabbed a rung in my hand, and began to haul myself up. I was aware that work on deck had ceased, and the crew were watching me.

"Oh, ho, Pretteh! Come for a kiss?" Demetri spluttered in surprise. He was well-built, but I was coldly furious, and I reckoned that might just even us out. Besides, from what I'd gathered over the last few days, he was colossally stupid. I'd fenced, boxed, and played rugby, and knew a fair bit of combat and engagement theory, whereas I reasoned he was just a thug. I could take him.

"Not a kiss, Demetri, no," I called back as I climbed. "I've come to cut off your tiny trouser-snake and feed it to the seagulls, though I must apologize to them beforehand for the smallness of the offering."

Laughter sounded from below us as everyone heard.

"Don't be vexed, Pretteh. I'll be nicer next time. How about that?" Demitri offered, now looking wary. He had probably never been challenged before.

"There won't be a next time for you, Demetri, unless it's with a shark," I answered, and I'd nearly reached him. We were several yards above the deck, and I've no head for heights, but I've no heart for rape, and no stomach for bullies. I'd rather fall to my death in the sea than ever again endure the treatment that had been meted out to me the previous night. I had no way of knowing what had happened after I passed out, but I was suffering considerable discomfort in the rear passage, so I guessed neither Demetri or his accomplices had minded relieving their tensions on someone unresponsive and unconscious.

I had to angle my climb so as not to approach him from below, and once he realized my intention, he started to climb too.

"Trying to get away from me, are you now?" I taunted him. "Not like last night?"

He was more experienced in clambering about the rigging than me, without a doubt, but he was carrying extra weight, and I was nimble. I was soon alongside him, and he pulled a knife.

"Come now, that's not friendly," I scolded, as he swept it at me. I began to wind both my legs around ropes in order to free my hands, not caring if I ended up swinging upside down, whereas he held on with one hand. I kept feinting, and he kept parrying, but the thrusts with the knife were taking a lot of effort, and he was having trouble holding on. I kept mocking him, too.

"What did you have for breakfast, Demetri? Half a hog? And rum, too? You're a little bleary-eyed, aren't you? A little slow? And you're getting fat, too. Maybe you shouldn't be up here so high, in your condition. You're not in your prime any more, Demetri. I'll wager you have to pay a lot to find a woman who'll fuck you. Do you even earn coin enough for that? Is that why you're sneaking up on sleeping boys, you malodorous cur?"

He bellowed and swung wildly with the knife, and I grabbed his wrist and twisted it. The knife fell, a bright flash, down into the sea, and his gaze followed it, shocked.

"That was a good knife, Demetri. And it wasn't yours, was it? Ship's property? Maybe you should go and get it?"

I started to punch him, and I'd made sure that I was holding on to the ropes with my left hand, taking a gamble that he was right-handed too. He was flailing at me, but I'd gotten in a couple of good blows to the temple, and he was already groggy. I stopped short of knocking him into the next life, though. It could well be that the captain wouldn't take kindly to the murder of a crew member. By the same token, if he permitted rape, he had to have a liberal view on violence.

"There, there, poor Demetri. Got a headache? I'll leave you to your duties now, but if you ever bother me again, you won't live to see another day. And I'll make your last few hours unpleasant. Do you understand me?" I hissed, and the ruffian nodded. I really didn't think he'd give me any more trouble, and I didn't think his slow-witted gang would be loyal enough to him to avenge his humiliation.

I climbed back down to the deck, and the staring crew stepped back, making a space around me. Everyone except Garrett.

"Demitri, you pot-bellied oaf!" he yelled, up towards the sails. "You lost us a knife! Wages and rations docked, and a change of duties. You're scraping barnacles now."

The spectators drifted away, and the quartermaster looked at me.

"So, Pretteh," he drawled. "Limber on the ropes, aren't ye? Congratulations on your new job. Rigging."

That night I wasn't looking forward to having to sleep in the hammock next to Demitri's, but Jim, the bosun, came below decks after the evening meal.

"You're changing quarters," he told me. "Outside the captain's cabin - where the cabin boy sleeps - there's a spare space. You can sling yer 'ammock there."

I didn't know whether to thank him or not, so I nodded.

"Lad, I know what 'appened, and I don't agree with the way some of the buggers treat the new 'uns. Some cap'ns don't allow it, and some turn a blind eye. I've managed to get you away from Demetri, but he's a nasty piece of work, so it's a shame you didn't throw 'im overboard when you 'ad the chance. You'd better watch out, since 'e'll 'ave it in for ye now, and ye'll not be safe."

Jim. He was old enough to be my grandfather, and I'd never had a grandfather. It was good of him to afford me this caution.

"Guess I'll buy you a shot of whiskey in Tortuga," I told him.

"I'm a thirsty man. Make it the whole bottle," he answered.

And though it was a small ship, I discovered that I hadn't met everybody on board. That night, just as I'd strung my hammock next to the one already there, the door to the captain's cabin opened and a boy stepped out. I'd not blown out the lanterns yet, so there was a little illumination. The lad was skinny and grubby - we were all grubby - and as he approached me his eyes were dark pools in his thin face. His fair hair was a wild tangle, and though most of us wore a pigtail - or used our knives to cut jaggedly at our unkempt manes - his hair just stuck out in a tangled halo.

"You're attendant to Eleazar?" I asked.

He nodded, and slung himself gracefully into his hammock, pulling the blanket about him and clearly inviting no further conversation. Almost within moments, I heard delicate snores.

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I don't know if Ffn is being failsome, or if I actually don't have a single reader.

That's what my stats are telling me, and both those alternatives are a bummer.