Part 1 of 9
Prologue – somewhere near Ilha da Caveira off the coast of Brazil, 1821
The clash and clamor of battle subsides. Below deck, in an insignificant cabin, a young woman holds herself upright amongst her cowering coterie and waits for her fate to approach.
Felizia do Traba Pérez Osorio, joint-heiress of her family's vast lands in Galicia; Felizia Hermosa of the lustrous eyes and pouting lips, outcast from her familial bosom, is to be taken. Only that morning her sole care had been the despicable way Papá had dismissed her to the colonies as being useless for any arranged marriage with any foremost family of Europe. Well, he would regret it now that she is to become the prize of some black-hearted pirate king who would use her for ransom – should her family even care! – or perhaps something even darker?
No! Her chin jerks up. She will never submit. She feels around in the secret pocket of her pelisse for the dagger, the one she had smuggled out of her ancestral home in her pitiful luggage and kept on her person for weeks now. She, or the pirate who attempts to claim her, will die before she allows herself to be so dishonored!
Her women whimper and sob as the shrieking overhead abruptly cuts off. Mariana, the plump little maid, wails as the sound of footsteps thundering down the ladder reaches the dim cabin. "Silêncio, foolish child!" Felizia hisses, adjusting the dagger as her father's old fencing instructor had shown her. "Isabella, silence her!"
The quaking duenna grabs a handful of the maid's loose hair, shakes her and chokes out a command to be quiet, as the clatter of coarse boots spreads throughout the lower deck. One especially loud pair rushes toward the flimsy door which begins to shudder under the blows of a cutlass hilt. Rough demands for entrance filter in to where Felizia stands defiant. She will not show fear. She is a Pérez Osorio.
She braces herself. It will be the pirate king who enters; a tall, wide-shouldered man with flashing green eyes, tumbling dark curls and flowing beard, his broad bare chest fleeced with dark hair, narrow in the loins, hawk-like in profile, handsome, forceful, strong…
The door bulges, whinges and flies open, clunking back to the bulkhead. Through the opening comes a tall, chubby, grubby entity, broad in the belly, a fine red velvet coat crusted with gold frogging swathing his narrow chest and swirling about his bowed knees; long-faced, weak-chinned, jowly, with greasy grey hair to go with the grey grease on his embroidered waistcoat and tatty lace jabot. His watery blue eyes gleam beadily as he looks her over.
"Madame!" he chortles in rustic English as he sweeps off a worn and tattered tricorn with almost as much gold frogging as his coat. A bit of dried fish drops from his scraggly matted beard onto perruquería Gabriella's upturned face as she cowers before him. "Welcome to the New World. I be your charmin' host, the Dread Pirate Cecil Cecilton of the Cheshire Ceciltons, don't you know." He nudges the dressing maid María Sofía aside with one battered boot toe as he edges through the huddle of ladies to Felizia (his breath stinks, she notes in mounting horror and disgust). "I be the Pirate Lord of these waters and your captor, for now." He is suddenly jostled from behind and almost topples onto poor little Gabriella. "Belay pushin' in there," he barks over a flabby shoulder to the men shoving in at the door, "This one be all mine."
Not so far away, as the seagull flies
The former Lord Featherington (Archibald Edward Malcolm Richard Belamey), now known as Arch Askwyth, is a happy man. Not only is he the proud possession of the most beautiful woman in all the world (Old and New), the respected brew-master of his new home island Ilha da Liberdade, and the owner/operator of a nascent shipping concern, but he is the proud father of not one, not two, but possibly three bouncing baby boys.
He had been separated from his beloved Catia, once a child street entertainer in the slums of Lisbon, then a courtesan, then a spy, by fickle Fate and murderous War. He had searched the high seas for his lost love for five long years before being swept overboard during a vicious storm and washing up upon her shore like a sun-burnt miracle. For Catia is the undisputed ruler of that island, as well as the rest of the tiny Ilhas Afortunadas archipelago, within easy sailing distance of Santa Maria de Belém do Grão Pará, the City of Mango Trees, at the mouth of the mighty Amazon River. Her title of Baronesa was granted by the King of Portugal himself and her devoted islanders are mostly freed slaves.
It was only on being shipwrecked that he discovered son #1, Archilio Benjamin Guilherme Xavier, age four, a total surprise and the most glorious gift he'd ever been given. Son #2, Benjamin Guilherme Xavier Archilio, appeared exactly nine months after his papa made landfall. Child #3 is due any day now and Catia is certain it's a boy since 'He kicks like a stubborn Englishman!'
In the intervening three years since Archie's arrival, there have been some great changes to the island. The one street of the capitol hamlet of Cidade de Baía, lined in low red-roofed houses, has become two, with the town creeping up the hillside through the trees toward the Casa na Colina, Archie's home. The number of municipal buildings has doubled to four, with the same number of jail cells above ground. Yvette's beer parlour is the busiest spot on the island, located at one end of the harbour conveniently near the bay's dock. The church of São Nicolau do Mar, nearly complete, looms in the town center right next to the Casa da Leis.
A mile north of this lovely little port is the Pote de Ingles, a nearly circular baylet 300 feet at its widest, its mouth almost closed off both naturally and by the industry of the new brick-making factory. With his brewery functioning at full capacity, Archie has decided to take his product to the world and has decreed (with his wife the Teacher Catia's blessing) the building of a modest shipyard, complete with a short length of dry dock.
And not the least of all these wondrous changes is the long flowing hair and magnificent wavy beard sported by the now ascendant Captain Askwyth... for he is preparing for the maiden voyage of the Vida Nova, a sweet little ship built to his specifications: a 2-masted schooner with a square topsail on the foremast, 85 feet long on deck, and displacing a svelte 100 tons. Her destination is Santa Maria de Belém and the thirsty patrons of the waterfront bars there. Her cargo is Palm Beer and her crew is the first 16 graduates of Arch's nautical training academy.
As Arch and his first mate Danilo go over the ship one last time, Dani mutters, "Are ye no afeared o' pirates? We carry no arms an' I'm worried we might be puttin' ourselves in harm's way." English is now his language of choice in business while he maintains Portuguese as his official patter and his native patois for the many friends and 'special ladies' he has picked up over the course of his career change from thief-taker to merchant-cum-adventurer.
Arch thinks for a moment, then nods. "That is a very good point, Dani. See that suitable weapons are secured in the arms locker, then bring me the key. If the weather holds fair and our crew be keen, we shall make landfall in Belém two days hence. That doesn't give any ne'er-do-wells much time to notice us." He turns to regard the brave little vessel where it fights its moorings like a young horse eager for freedom. "A fine ship, she will do us proud."
"Aye," Danilo agrees, "she's sleek an' fast an' I'm sure anyone who sees her will covet her as much as we do! We must make sure she stays with us, hey?"
Arch claps his first mate on the shoulder and laughs, "Aye, we shall." As the two men turn from the wharf and walk back into town, Arch muses, "Luckily for us, piracy in the area is on the wane, due to the increased activity of the US Navy. That upstart nation is determined to make the world safer for all of us. And a good thing too, for if it were a hundred years earlier we wouldn't stand a chance. Yes, our waters are safer now, thanks to the Yankees."
"Well," grumbles Dani as they arrive at Yvette's parlour where fresh beer awaits them, "I know one villain that has yet t' be stopped, the Dread Pirate Sissy." The men sit, drink, and sigh with pleasure. "But Sissy is a hostage-taker so I'm safe… since the only person on board our ship worth anythin' is you."
At Arch's surprised look, Danilo nods. "Yes aye, you! Our mistress would pay anythin' t' get you back if you was taken. I know that an' so does everyone else on the island. She'd pay… then slit throats an' feed the sharks." He chuckles, "Oh, I'd pay good money to see it."
Arch waves a dismissive hand. "Ah, well, perhaps, but let's not worry about it today." He hoists his tankard. "Here's to our maiden voyage and the good fortune of us all!"
Dani nods vigorously and clanks tankards with Arch. "Good fortune an' fair winds!" Then he wipes the foam off his top lip and adds, "I'm surprised Freddie isn't joinin' us. It's not like him t' miss an adventure."
Arch shakes his head. "Freddie is become too valuable to the Magistrate to go larking off with us. So I've set him to mother-henning our newest experiment, a pale ale that looks very promising. As much as he wishes he were coming with us, he's needed here."
Dani smiles, "Oh, well then, since beer is involved, he's surely needed here more than aboard."
Meanwhile, on the bounding Main somewhere nearby
The Dread Pirate Cecil ('Sissy' to his detractors and his own personal ire) paces the poop deck of his ship, the Harvester, with a frown. He's got a problem… and it's not just his nickname.
Pirating is not what it used to be, not like in the Golden Age a hundred years ago. Few ships carry raw treasure now although many have money. Since pirates live to rob and spend their ill-gottens in riotous living, Cecil must be ever finding new targets to keep his crew happy and prevent desertion or mutiny. His men have no particular loyalty to him or to piracy as a way of life; their focus is on what they can get for themselves. It would be a disaster should any ship-jumping bilge rats be caught by a Navy – take your pick of which nation – and agree to turn evidence to preserve their own sorry hides.
So far, he's been very careful, very lucky, and very successful taking hostages from wealthier families in South and Middle America. Business has never been better… but he's run into a sudden unexpected shoal.
The ransom hasn't been paid for his latest prisoner, a high-born beauty so feisty and independent that she refuses to cooperate by contacting her family or the families of her women. Sissy paces faster. Normally, hostages are desperate to return to their families and families are desperate to ransom them back… but not this time. And while he wastes precious days arguing with her, this Felizia whatzername and her lot are eating him out of ship and stores and he hasn't made one ha'penny out of them. In fact, she is such a thorn in his side that he's beginning to think her family might not want her back at all!
It crosses his muzzy mind (muzzy with any thought except what is best for Cecil Cecilton of the Cheshire Ceciltons) that, odd as it may seem, for once he may have miscalculated in his exemplary pirate career and this plaguy harridan has taken HIM hostage instead! He beats his hands against the rail atop the bulwarks in frustration and resumes pacing like a caged walrus.
A bit later he comes to a halt, leans on the rail and looks out to sea towards the invisible Liberty Island, what the natives call Paraíso. He's made up his mind. He's going to sell Senhorita Felizia and her voracious squealers-in-waiting to the nearest agreeable plantation owner as soon as he steals that trim little craft he'd spotted a few days ago, tied up in Paraíso's bay.
END – part 1
Notes:
*Thanks to OldProf for suggesting the 'Vida Nova' name and advising on all things nautical*
Ilha da Caveira= Skull Island, of course
Hermosa = beautiful
Duenna = A combination governess, companion, chaperone, usually an older woman of good family but not quite as good a family as that of her mistress.
Perruquería = A lady's maid specializing in hairdressing.
São Nicolau do Mar = St. Nicholas of the Sea, patron saint to sailors and brewers
Casa da Leis = House of Laws
Ilha da Liberdade, or Paraíso, is at the time of this story a protectorate of Portugal and intermittently patrolled by the Portuguese navy. In 1823 Brazil will declare its independence from Portugal and Paraíso will have to pledge allegiance to Brazil. Nothing much will change for our heroes, not until Brazil discovers they exist anyway.
The US Navy is patrolling these waters and trying to put down piracy as a diplomatic gesture. Rescuing hostages would be a major coup because at this point in history the USA is trying to forge good relations with any country they can. Returning hostages would open doors for them as a nation. At the same time, the Navy was focused on making the seas safe for business and not doing search and rescue.