The Adventures of Pocahontas and John Rolfe: Book I
Chapter 9: The Princess Pocahontas
It was not long after the pirates were out of sight that the sailorettes on the ship rejoiced loudly. Pocahontas glanced up at John Rolfe on the helm and then down to the cheerful French maidens. She smiled. Everything had worked out and they were finally heading home. With any luck, they would never see another pirate for as long as they lived.
"Ahem, ahem!" John Rolfe cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. All the women quieted down, listening. "Ladies, I'm charting a course to Jamestown in Virginia. Ships regularly navigate back and forth from there to England. By the way, I'm terribly sorry for all of your recent losses," he announced in French, an air of sadness to his voice. He noted Pocahontas raising a brow in response to the strange-sounding language.
He continued in French, "If you have any family remaining in France, I'm certain King James would be delighted to offer you passage home. If not, we'll make arrangements for you to stay elsewhere. As you all know, my name is John Rolfe and I am a diplomat from England." He gestured down to Pocahontas, who was resting upon a small barrel. "That young lady right there is Pocahontas. She is a native of Virginia, princess of the friendly Powhatan tribe—a new ally of England, and France by extension." Rolfe peered down in expectation at the familiar brunette. "You are Louise, correct?" he asked.
The girl nodded. "Louise de Vallisée." She turned her green-eyed gaze to Pocahontas. "I speak a little English, mademoiselle," she indicated with a smile, waving.
Pocahontas nodded as eleven other curious faces glanced over at her. She smiled amiably at all of them. The expressions they wore seemed to ask thousands of questions that their mouths could not hope to express—but there would be time for translations later.
John Rolfe focused his gaze on the young lady standing next to Louise, a wavy blonde with pale grey eyes. When she saw him looking at her, she flushed lightly and threw a glance down at the deck. "Je m'appelle Denise, Denise-Giselle Isaacs."
The Englishman nodded to her. "Bienvenue, Denise," he greeted, casually shifting his gaze to the next lovely face in the crowd. The third maiden greatly resembled Denise-Giselle Isaacs. John Rolfe figured they had to be related. His theory was proven correct when she identified herself as Geneviève Isaacs. "Sisters?" he asked, gesturing between the two of them. Both girls nodded their heads, grinning. "Lovely!" he noted, turning his attention to the next maid. One by one, the Frenchwomen identified themselves.
"Isabelle Marie de Thou," came the voice of a tall platinum blonde.
A slightly taller brunette with hazel eyes was next. "Lorraine Ribault Tavernier."
Then came a short blonde with beautiful brown eyes. "Madeleine."
"Nicole Lorrise St. Germaine," came the unexpectedly confident voice of a ravishing blue-eyed blonde. She appeared to be the least timid member of the group.
The girl next to Nicole introduced herself next. "Jacqueline Blazier Rousseau."
"Je m'appelle Simone."
The redhead spoke next. "Marie-Claude."
"Catherine Rose Sauvage."
"Charlotte."
Pocahontas glanced at each of them, repeating the names she had heard in her head in an attempt to commit them to memory. Louise de Vallisée, Denise-Giselle Isaacs, Geneviève Isaacs, Isabelle Marie de Thou, Lorraine Ribault Tavernier, Madeleine, Nicole Lorrise St. Germaine, Jacqueline Blazier Rousseau, Je m'appelle Simone, Marie-Claude, Catherine Rose Sauvage, and Charlotte, she thought to herself as her eyes followed the line of young white women. Nope. No way was she going to remember all those strange exotic-sounding names without having to ask for several reminders at the very least.
Madeleine gasped when she spotted Pocahontas's wrapped ankle. She hurried over and kneeled by her. "Que se passe-t-il?" she inquired with a look of grave concern on her face as she examined the binding. She glanced up and met Pocahontas's eyes.
Pocahontas understood the question from mere context. "Oh, um… Something fell on it," she clumsily tried to explain, realizing that Madeleine would not understand.
Louise came over to assist. "Madeleine was training to be nurse before pirates come," she explained with a heavy accent. "She help get you better if you want, miss."
Nicole had snuck up to the helm while everyone was distracted. She stood behind John Rolfe, to his right, and rapidly brushed her fingers through her somewhat tangled but lustrous hair in an attempt to groom herself to the best of her ability. Then she used her palm to check her breath and curled her lips into a coquettish smile, clearing her throat to get his attention. "Monsieur, it was so brave of you to come to our rescue. The girls and I are in your debt," she spoke, causing him to jolt slightly. He turned to her.
While slightly startled by her proximity, John Rolfe was able to throw on a friendly smile nonetheless. "Oh? Think nothing of it, mademoiselle. I must thank you as well for coming to help," he replied, beckoning her to take his place. She gave him a look of surprise but did as he requested, placing her small hands on the wheel. "I do have some business to attend to. You know how to steer, I presume? Just make sure we don't get too close to the coast. We wouldn't want to run aground," he said, patting her back.
John Rolfe bowed politely to the young woman, causing her to flush. "Of course, I'd be happy to help anytime," she returned. "You can always count on me."
He flashed her a thankful grin and turned tail, making his way down the stairs and over to Pocahontas's side. Nicole could hear him speaking to the copper-skinned woman, but she did not understand the English words he was using. She drew her brows together in concern, wishing she had agreed to study English with a tutor when her father had given her the opportunity two years back. Sadly, at the time, she had been much more interested in playing the harp on her balcony to win the undying affections of the local male crowd. This was the first time that she had actually started to regret that decision.
Nicole's face fell abruptly when she saw John Rolfe gently lift the injured reddish-brown woman into his arms as one would a blushing bride. He carefully carried her down below deck, Louise and Madeleine in pursuit of them both. One other girl followed them too, but most of the Frenchwomen stayed up on the deck to attend to the ship. There were still some high sails that needed to be unfurled and loose lines that had to be tied.
…
When the bosun arrived back at camp huffing and puffing from the exertion, the crew was packing up their supplies. Oddly enough, the ship was nowhere to be seen. He saw Flame stomping about on a tirade the likes of which the crew had not seen in years. He held a gun to one of the crewmen's heads, urging the man to pack the muskets up faster because the 'Spaniard' was getting away with his beloved Draw. The bosun's mouth fell open in disbelief at the revelation that John Rolfe had actually stolen the ship.
When Flame spotted the bosun, he ran over furiously. "You! You were supposed to catch him!" he roared, menacingly grabbing a hold of the hilt of his sword.
The bosun was unimpressed by Flame's temper tantrum. He shook his head. "I followed them to the shoreline, but it was too late. They had built a raft and fled before I got there. What I don't understand is how they could have gotten to the ship. Wasn't it under guard, captain?" he calmly interrogated, demonstrating neither fear nor aggression.
"Of course, it was under…!" Flame paused. "Wait. Did you say they?"
The bosun nodded. "The woman is alive. I saw her just before they disappeared with the current. I tried to catch up, but the current was strong. They had a huge head start."
Captain Flame snarled in rage. Taking his sword from its scabbard, he turned and threw it into a tree. It embedded about three inches deep. "We've no hope of catching up to 'em. Save the cock-boat, we're stranded here!" he hissed. "Marooned, I tell ye!"
The bosun raised a brow. "Who was guarding the ship?"
"Doesn't matter. He's dead. I killed the drunken twit," Flame disclosed, glaring angrily at the ground as he trod off to retrieve his blade. It was not easy to pull back out, but the angered captain managed it with a few frenzied up and down jerks. "No one left to blame but you," he uttered bitterly, turning to point the sword in the bosun's direction.
"You might not want to do that, sir," the bosun countered, a placid expression on his face.
"And why not?" Captain Flame retorted, approaching with the tip of his sword held up to the bosun's neck. His eyes burned with barely contained rage as he eyed the taller man up and down. "I never liked you anyway, jungle savage," he spat threateningly.
"Because, captain, if anyone has a chance of retrieving the ship and catching the thieves, it is I. But I cannot help you if I am dead. With all due respect." The bosun suppressed the urge to grin as Flame raised a brow in curiosity, lowering the blade.
Captain Flame was silent for an extended moment as he tried to read the bosun's blank countenance. Eventually, he gave up and sheathed his sword in defeat, growling below his breath. "Fine. What had ye in mind, mate? And it had better work!" he snapped.
"We need more than one cock-boat to carry us all. Put the men to work building rafts. We'll follow the current. The fugitives will be overconfident after their thieving escapade. They have no crew, so they will not be able to sail for long without anchoring to rest."
"Build rafts with what? The tools are on the ship. We have only guns, swords, and a few provisions. And what of the men guarding the southern border?" Flame contended.
"A resourceful man does not need metal tools. Come, I will show everyone how it is done," the bosun explained, beckoning Flame to follow him over to the packing crew on the shore. "Also, sir, I have reason to believe those men you spoke of are dead. I heard the sounds of a distant battle. They were likely attacked by hostile natives."
Captain Flame caught up to him. "What?! Are you sure?"
"Yes. Going back to get them is a lost cause, captain," the bosun replied, adjusting his eye patch. It was only then that Flame even noticed he was wearing it.
"What happened to your eye, mate?" Flame curiously inquired.
The bosun scowled. "I was stung in the eye by a giant insect. I'm sure I will heal, but it might take a few weeks. I need both eyes to be a good shot with my rifle."
Flame nodded. "Good luck with that. Now get to work with the crew! Go on, go!"
The bosun bobbed his head and trotted off to begin instructing the other men on the art of raft-building. For such a silent man, he was surprisingly good at giving orders.
…
Adahy heard what sounded like raucous crewmen as the current pushed his boat along the mangroves of the Floridian coastline. He used his skeletal hand to grab hold of a mangrove branch, stopping the boat from floating any farther once the crew came into view through the trees. He spied them from a distance with a telescope.
They had split off into groups and each was busy constructing something on the ground. Adahy could not tell what it was they were doing at first until the obvious absence of the Blood Draw dawned on him. There were far fewer men on the shore than he expected and he began to wonder where the rest of the crew went. He had to find out more. He stepped out of the boat into the shallow waters and used his hand to pull the boat up into a hidden alcove among the mangroves. Kelele appeared to be about to jump out of the boat, but Adahy gestured him to stay put. He intended to investigate alone because he had to find out what was going on before making any appropriate adjustments to his plans.
The ex-warrior crept through the dense brush as silently as he could. He had to wander pretty far before he came upon the shore clearing where the men were working. Hiding behind a fallen stump, he was able to make out what they were building. They appeared to be long rafts made of all manner of random forest debris. This was an obvious sign of desperation. Had they lost the ship? Had there been a mutiny? Had it sunk?
Adahy shook his head. Something fishy was going on and he knew he had to get to the bottom of it or he would surely die of curiosity. The copper-skinned man dropped to his belly, crawling under the log like a snake. The closer he got to them, the less cover there was. Nothing but tall grass and bushes, yet onward he went in pursuit of knowledge.
He stopped and listened when he felt he was close enough to overhear some tidbits of conversation. It was Spike-Eyes who was talking the loudest. Something about the ship being stolen… by John Rolfe! Adahy raised a brow, jolting when the bosun came over yelling loud commands. "We need more long sticks over here! Cut down those saplings! Use your swords if you've no axes," he shouted, pointing in Adahy's direction.
As a few men approached the area, Adahy panicked and rolled over to maneuver his body back in the opposite direction without being spotted. He hurriedly belly-crawled back the way he had come, managing to hide behind a large tree in the nick of time.
"Didja hear something?" one of the men muttered. The two others shook their heads and got to work chopping away. They created enough noise for Adahy to retreat farther. All he had gathered was that John Rolfe had somehow stolen the Blood Draw and left the crew marooned. He decided to roll with it and headed back to the cock-boat.
In all likelihood, the crewmen would spot the boat as it floated north with the current but Adahy figured he could throw the other pirates off by crouching down inside of it. They would not know who the occupant was or perhaps they would think it abandoned. It would take another hour or two for them to finish their own rafts, so it was unlikely they would be able to catch up to him in time to get their hands on his cock-boat.
Either way, Adahy had a better chance than any of them of catching up to the stolen ship. He returned to the boat to find Kelele sitting in exactly the same spot as when he had left. He praised the animal before kicking the boat back into the waters and jumping in just in time to catch the current. He lay down under the thwarts of the boat, commanding his dog to do the same, and waited for the current to carry them past the bay.
…
John Rolfe had given Lorraine and Isabelle the important duty of cooking for the crew. The two spent the next few hours cleaning the filthy galley and mess hall. Word spread on deck that they were preparing a delicious hearty stew for supper that night.
John Rolfe had left Nicole at the helm while the sea was calm and friendly. He had also left Pocahontas in the care of Louise and Madeleine before going to investigate the state of the ship's captain's quarters. The two sisters Denise and Geneviève accompanied Rolfe into Bleud's former cabin. While richly decorated, the place was an absolute pigsty after decades of exclusive occupation by villainous slobs. All three crinkled their noses.
The girls went to work cleaning the place up for the new occupant, while John Rolfe rummaged through the old captain's generous collection of plunder and trappings. In a chest buried under the bed, he uncovered a treasure trove of fine clothing that appeared to have been unworn and clean. It included both fancy men's suits as well as a lovely red dress. He took the dress and handed it to Denise. "Be a dear and take this to Pocahontas, will you? I think she would appreciate something to wear while her own clothes are being washed," he politely requested in the girl's native tongue, flashing her a smile.
The short blonde nodded and accepted the dress. She turned to leave but came back quite abruptly. "Where's the rest of it, sir?" Denise inquired, feeling the soft deep red silk.
John Rolfe glanced up. "Pardon?"
"The corset is missing," the young girl clarified, showing him the inside of the dress. "Were you unable to find it when you were looking through the clothes?"
"Oh, that!" John Rolfe replied, slapping his forehead. "No, not at all. Pocahontas does not like to wear corsets so I excluded it. She finds them uncomfortable." Denise gave him the oddest of looks but shrugged and left with the dress to do as he had requested.
Simone had uncovered the ship's freshwater supply down in the hold. There was more than enough for drinking and cooking to last them until Jamestown, plus two baths at least. John Rolfe decided to take one. Two of the girls prepared it for him in a gilded tub found in storage in the hold. He washed himself thoroughly and cleaned out the tub for Pocahontas's use. Then he returned to the captain's quarters and shaved his face.
After he was clean-shaven, John Rolfe dressed himself in a white linen undershirt, an open-neck light gold satin doublet, finely knit stockings, tight-fitting Spanish breeches, heeled tan sheepskin boots, boot hose, and a wide-brimmed hat. When he reemerged on deck, all the girls working there stopped what they were doing to gaze at him. He simply tipped his hat to them all and announced in French, "Carry on, ladies." With a smile, he turned and approached the helm to relieve Nicole Lorrise St. Germaine.
Nicole was giddy as he sidled up to her. She moved aside to allow him to take her place at the helm. The young girl stood about 5'8" tall and looked to be about sixteen years of age, not that John Rolfe noticed. He was more concerned about keeping the ship on course. However, the Englishman was forced to acknowledge her presence when she loudly cleared her throat to get his attention. His eyes snapped open and he glanced back at the pretty blonde maiden, surprised that she had not run off to take her break. Instead, she stayed by him at the helm, smiling sweetly. "Thank you for relieving me, Captain Rolfe," she expressed. "Might I say you look dashing in your new vestments?"
John Rolfe flushed slightly. "Oh, thank you, mademoiselle. But I'm not really a proper captain. I will do my best to bring this ship into port for all of our sakes," he indicated, pausing momentarily to think up his next inquiry. "So tell me, Mademoiselle Nicole, have you any special talents? I imagine that it would be wise to keep every woman's natural abilities in mind when determining her best role to play for the crew here."
Nicole was delighted by the question. "Oh yes! I have many talents, monsieur. Where should I begin? I'm a talented seamstress—not by necessity but by hobby. My father was wealthy enough to afford us many servants and buy me all the trendiest Parisian fashions. Yet I have always enjoyed embroidery and other feminine crafts for mere recreation if nothing more." She trod over to lean on the railing, peering out to sea and sighing a bit. "I do miss Papa, but he was on his deathbed when the pirates attacked. He would not have lived much longer. What I am most aggrieved about is the death of my betrothed," she lamented. "He was trying to protect me when they broke in. I saw them kill him."
John Rolfe frowned. "Oh, mademoiselle, I'm terribly sorry that such a thing happened to you. I know what you're going through. I lost someone very close to my heart not over three years ago," he divulged. "At first, the pain was unbearable. But it'll fade over time. Just remember that God is watching over your lost loved ones. He will not forsake them. On that note, I remember now how I found the church to be a great comfort in the wake of my own loss. Perhaps we ought to hold a prayer vigil tonight after supper."
Nicole perked up. "That is a splendid idea! I'm certain the girls will appreciate it. So… what should my duties on the ship be thereafter? I wouldn't want to be useless when everyone else is working so hard," she remarked, aiming to please. "I am a little afraid of very high heights, but I wouldn't mind working the riggings on the lower sails."
John Rolfe took a minute to think. "The weather is fair, so it looks like we have enough women working on deck for now. Many of the girls seem to have torn and muddied clothes from the raid. Perhaps they would appreciate it if you could do some repairs? It would also help for you to make the dresses a bit more seaworthy. I see Charlotte there is struggling to keep her dress from flying up in her face, poor girl," he noted, shooting a glance up at the riggings. He turned his attention back to Nicole. "If you can find a way to adhere the skirts to the legs without immobilizing them, the ladies might appreciate it. The less puffy the better or else the linen might get caught on hooks on the masts. It can be dangerous in rough weather. A fall would most certainly be fatal."
Nicole curtsied. "Then I shall strive to make the very best seafaring fashion for ladies the world has ever known. Thank you, Captain Rolfe," she declared, smiling.
John Rolfe tipped his hat to her. Just as Nicole disappeared below deck, the winds picked up even more and he was forced to use the strap to adhere his hat to his head. Meanwhile, his half-cape fluttered magnificently in the warm subtropical breeze.
…
Madeleine and Louise were excellent caregivers. The former was able to determine that Pocahontas had no broken bones. It was a relief to know for sure, but the ankle was still very swollen and sore. The Frenchwomen wrapped it carefully and assisted Pocahontas in bathing when a tub was made available for her use. For Pocahontas, it was a great relief to get clean after the whole disgusting swamp fiasco. Madeleine had even found soothing ointment in the medical bay to treat her and John Rolfe's itchy mosquito bites.
Louise had taken her clothes away for washing while Pocahontas lingered in the tub. The green-eyed brunette returned with clean clothes, but they were not the ones Pocahontas had been wearing. "Your clothes are very dirty. Since you do not want to dispose of them, I must heat water in galley to clean them well. That will take some time, but Monsieur Rolfe has found something for you to wear while you wait, princess," Louise explained, presenting the long red dress. She blushed, glancing at the floor. "Monsieur Rolfe also claimed that you… eugh… do not like to wear certain undergarments. So I do not have the proper corset for you, I'm afraid. Would you like me to go ask for it?"
Louise seemed to expect Pocahontas to be embarrassed at the thought of going without, but Pocahontas smiled in appreciation. "No, that's fine. Thank you, the dress is beautiful. I suppose I should get out of the water before I start to wrinkle," she remarked, adjusting her position. Madeleine returned with a drying cloth. The women both helped Pocahontas climb out of the tub. Then they helped her dry herself off and get dressed.
The dress fit perfectly. Like the off-white gown she had worn to the Hunt Ball, this one was off the shoulders. The sheer billowing sleeves only went down just past her elbows. There was no cage beneath to make the ballroom bell shape. Instead, a few layers of ruffles added a slight but shapely expanse to the dress. A polished ruby marked the dark red silk over her heart and gold trim accentuated the jewel, sleeves, and waistband.
Madeleine, unfortunately, tied the garment up too tight as if trying to substitute the body of the dress for a corset. She did not seem to understand when Pocahontas tried to express discomfort, as Louise was out of the room at the time. The strings were pinching the skin on her back. To avoid awkwardness, Pocahontas decided to ask John Rolfe to loosen the nipping silk cords later. There were times she wondered if white women possessed lungs, but she shrugged off the thought in favor of something much more pleasant.
The garment came with moccasin-like silk slippers. Pocahontas wore one of them on her good foot, leaving the other in her cabin. Madeleine had rewrapped Pocahontas's sore ankle after the bath and then obtained crutches for her from elsewhere in the hold. Lastly, Louise offered to fix her hair with a red satin rose hair ornament. Contrasted sharply by her mother's turquoise necklace, the entire ensemble looked utterly stunning.
Pocahontas thanked her new friends for their help, took her crutches, and made her way up to the deck. John Rolfe was busy dispensing a few orders to the sailorettes in French when she emerged. Their eyes met and she smiled as his dilated at the sight of her. The sun just past mid-sky glistened off the jewel on her dress as Rolfe approached her with a look of rapture on his face. He took one of Pocahontas's hands in his own.
"Pocahontas, you look absolutely dazzling," John Rolfe told her. He kissed her hand and gestured up to the helm where he had briefly left Jacqueline at the wheel in his place. There was an embroidered chair by the steering position with a matching stool in front of it. "I've set up an area of comfort for you if you'd like to linger with me at the helm. On the other hand, there is a comfortable sitting area in my quarters if the wind picks up too much and starts to bother you. It is much nicer than the mess hall," he expressed.
"Not at all. I love the wind," Pocahontas replied. He escorted her up the stairs and helped her get comfortable, propping her injured ankle up on the stool to elevate it. Then he stashed her crutches in the corner where she could easily reach them. When she was ready, she leaned over and whispered to John Rolfe, "Madeleine tied the dress too tight in the back. It's pinching my skin. Can you loosen it a little bit, John?"
John Rolfe smiled. "Certainly, love." He knelt down and fixed her dress, much to her relief. She lay back in the cushioned chair with much greater comfort. "I suppose you must be hungry," Rolfe suggested. "We've got two girls working in the galley on a nice meal. It should be ready soon, but I figured you'd be hungry straightaway so I fetched you a snack," he said, handing her a slice of bread with sausage and cheese.
John Rolfe took over the helm as Pocahontas devoured her food. She retained more than enough appetite for the upcoming late lunch. As she lounged in the opulent chair with her leg elevated, Pocahontas watched Rolfe sail the ship. His billowing red-brown hair glimmered in the sun and he looked beautiful, standing tall and proud at the ship's helm. Every now and again, he chanted an order to one of the crewwomen on the deck.
Meeko poked his head out of a barrel, startling a girl who was stowing away a length of rope. She squealed in surprise, but the raccoon took no notice as he hopped down from the barrel onto the deck. He scrambled up the stairs and into Pocahontas's lap. The Powhatan woman laughed. "Hello, Meeko! I was wondering where you'd run off to. You must've found something to eat, huh?" she inquired, noting his full stomach.
He started to groom himself, looking only a little bit woozy from the ship's movements. Fortunately, he had put on some weight from their brief time on land, so Pocahontas was not so worried that he might not survive the voyage. Sticking close to the coastline would help for sure. The water would hopefully remain calm until they finally arrived home for the raccoon's sake. The trip to Jamestown was expected to take a few weeks.
John Rolfe tipped his hat to Meeko. "There's clear sailing ahead, the wind is just right, and the scenery is stunning. It seems our troubles are over, Pocahontas," he declared, grinning as Flit and Percy emerged from below deck. The pug was sniffing the ground in search of Pocahontas. Flit was the first to spot her and Rolfe at the helm. He chirped to get Percy's attention, causing the dog to yap excitedly when he sighted them.
Percy was about to dart toward Pocahontas, but he was quickly intercepted by a trio of dog-loving French girls. He would have protested the roadblock but the ladies began to pet and cuddle him, insisting that he was the cutest little dog they had ever seen in their lives. Then they started offering him doggie biscuits and he became elated. If not for Meeko's slight queasiness, there might have been some rivalry involved.
Flit perched on John Rolfe's shoulder as he turned the wheel slightly at a bend in the coastline. There were only a few sections of white sand beach. Mostly all that they saw were thick mangroves and dense hammocks. Pocahontas had seen enough of it. All she wanted now was to get home in one piece. Instead of gazing at the forest and wondering what lay beyond, she kept her eyes on Rolfe as she wondered what lay ahead.
…
The late lunchtime stew was a conglomeration of lamb, herbs, and seasonal vegetables taken from St. Augustine during the attack. The girls were quite familiar with how to properly cook the ingredients. The ship was so loaded with fresh food supplies from the settlement that Lorraine became even more ambitious for the evening meal.
Because there was a passenger aboard the ship that had never had the privilege to taste French cuisine, Lorraine became determined to prepare a variety of small French dishes—samplers that could be passed around and tasted by all. It was a lot of work, but she recruited two of her best friends to assist her. For hours, the three young women slaved away in the galley. It was well past dark by the time they were finished.
There were not enough crew members to sail the ship around the clock. John Rolfe knew this would delay the voyage, but there was nothing he could do about that. They had to sleep sometime. He reasoned it would be wise to anchor the ship for the night in the calm waters off the northern Florida coast. Rolfe tied a spare anchor to the line and dropped it in the sea as the Frenchwomen were setting up an eating area on the open deck.
The girls brought tables up from the cramped mess deck and pushed them up against each other, arranging them in a line out in the open air. A linen tablecloth was put down and chairs were brought up. Pocahontas sat to the right of John Rolfe, who in turn sat at the head of the line of tables. Nicole had gotten involved with Lorraine in the kitchen, as she came up carrying bottled beverages and flaunting a comely but simple outfit she had whipped together. The group seated around the table arrangement watched as she strutted on deck and gave a twirl, balancing the tray of bottles in her right hand expertly.
The attire clung safely to the ankles but resembled a dress in the way it whirled around during her spin. There was colorful lace running around the calves and thighs. "It is light and airy on deck. To secure the garment for a rigging job, simply pull on the lace and tuck it in like so," Nicole Lorrise St. Germaine explained in French, demonstrating. When she tightened the lace, the 'dress' came to hug her full figure. Yet there was still enough space enough between the legs to allow for sufficient mobility and flexibility.
Some of the women jumped up and surrounded Nicole, raving about how they loved the design. Others remained at the table whispering about how scandalous it was. To break up the chaos, John Rolfe stood up and cleared his throat. The group fell to silence and looked at him. "Excellent job, Nicole. I'm very impressed," he commended her in French, making the young blonde blush. Pocahontas peered around, picking up bits and pieces of what was going on from context. Soon everyone returned to their seats.
Nicole rounded the table, pouring wine for whomsoever requested it. As they were on a ship, there were no proper wine glasses because they would have been too fragile. But there were mugs enough for everyone. Seven of the girls and John Rolfe selected the wine. Pocahontas preferred water and only one girl wanted a small taste of rum. "I am to inform you all that the main courses will be out shortly," Nicole announced in French. She sat delicately at John Rolfe's left side, directly across from Pocahontas, and flashed the Powhatan woman a smile that failed to extend to her cerulean eyes.
…
The group had erupted into conversation, mostly in French. Fortunately for Pocahontas, John Rolfe was on her left and Louise was on her right so she had the help of two translators. The attention of nearly every girl at the table was focused exclusively on her. They bombarded her with question after question to the point that Rolfe had to require them to slow down and take turns. "I'm sure Pocahontas will be pleased to answer all of your inquiries, ladies," he expressed. "Louise, you go first. No more than three questions each and then we go around the table until every girl has had herself a turn."
"What is it like to be a princess?"
"I've never not been one, so I would not know what to compare it to."
"Do you have servants?"
"Sometimes, but I prefer to do things for myself."
"Have you ever met Captain John Smith, the great explorer?"
"Yes, that's a long story."
"What do your people eat?"
"Corn, squash, beans, turkey, and venison—among many other things."
"Do you cook them?"
"Yes."
"How did you manage to tame that wild raccoon?"
"I did not even try. He tamed himself when he started following me around."
"Have you ever been to China?"
"No, never."
"Then where did you get that adorable dog? I thought the breed was from China."
"Percy came over on the first English ship."
"Do you have brothers and sisters?"
"Yes, seven sisters and thirteen brothers."
"What is your best friend's name?"
"I have two. They are Nakoma and Rebeccah."
"What was it like to meet King James and Queen Anne?"
"It was an adventure, to be sure…"
"What is that red marking on your arm?"
"That is my tattoo. I received it at my huskanasqua—when I became a woman."
"What is your necklace made of?"
"This necklace belonged to my mother. It is made of a rare stone called turquoise, which is from a land very distant to my own. The lighter beads are blue crystal and the pendant is a polished cowrie shell. The twine to hold it together is deer sinew."
On and on it went. The girls were enthused to meet a real 'Indian.' The men of St. Augustine had forbidden them from venturing outside the settlement. Interacting with the natives was verboten. The lives of the land's original inhabitants had been shrouded in mystery for the sheltered ladies of the French settlement. Pocahontas had opened their eyes. They could not get enough of her. Only two girls at the table seemed disinterested, one even a bit resentful of the attention Pocahontas was receiving.
When Lorraine and another girl brought out the first two dishes, Nicole used the distraction as an opportunity to switch the topic of the conversation. "So, Captain Rolfe, we've heard all about your traveling companion. What of yourself?" she asked.
John Rolfe's eyes widened in surprise. "Myself?"
"Yes," she replied. "Have you any brothers or sisters?"
"Oh, yes. But not as many as Pocaho—"
"Are you the eldest?"
John Rolfe blinked at the rapid-fire inquiries. "No, more like the youngest actually."
"Interesting…" Nicole replied in a contemplative manner. "Papa always told me firstborn sons are the most dominant. But you did a fine job capturing this ship from the pirates, in spite of your birth order. You thought up a plan fast and really took charge. I know it took a great deal of courage." She gently bit her bottom lip and then giggled. "I guess I'll have to question everything Papa ever told me from now on, won't I?" she said.
John Rolfe hardly noticed Louise whispering translations to Pocahontas. He felt abashed and somewhat taken aback by Nicole's comments. When he collected his wits, he chuckled nervously and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. "Oh why, um… Th-thank you, I suppose. Well, it is not every day that such a feat is necessary. Frankly, I'm just thankful that our Lord in heaven saw fit to grant us the opportunity to—"
"Are you married?" Nicole blurted.
Everyone at the table froze, save Pocahontas, who did not know what had been said. She leaned over to a gaping Louise and whispered, "What? What's happened?"
Nicole flushed, realizing she had been too forward for a woman. "I-I mean that in the most pleasant way, of course. I merely wish to learn of your friends and family. As I mentioned, my betrothed was lost to me during the attack," she recovered, her voice breaking a little. She sniffled. Jacqueline passed her a handkerchief and placed a hand on her shoulder. Nicole pressed it to her nose and turned away from the others.
The faces regarding her softened, especially John Rolfe's. "Oh, yes, that," he sighed. "I'm afraid my tale has not been much happier in the past. I am a widower. That lost loved one that I told you about earlier—it was my late wife. I loved her very much."
Nicole turned back, her expression lighter. "A widower? That is most… awful," she hesitantly murmured, her contented features betraying her words.
The blonde was about to continue, but John Rolfe stopped her. "I believe this unpleasant topic should wait until the vigil when it would be more appropriate. For now, let us keep to subjects of merriment, shall we?" he suggested with a hopeful look. The women seated around the table nodded in agreement. Nicole chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip.
John Rolfe rose to his feet and climbed the stairs to his cabin, returning with a gilded Celtic harp. "I found this little treasure in my quarters. It's the only type of instrument I've ever tried to learn, though I admit I'm a bit rusty. I tuned it earlier and now I wonder if you ladies might like to listen to some music for a pleasanter evening?"
"That would be great!" exclaimed Louise. "I love music."
Nicole nodded her agreement, as did the others. Most of the girls seemed enthused about the prospect of having something lovely to listen to. When Louise translated what John Rolfe had said for Pocahontas, her eyes widened. "You can make music, John?"
John Rolfe flushed. "A bit, yes. I'm out of practice, but there is one song I remember well. The title is something in Romanian that I can't pronounce, but it sounds nice," he disclosed, sitting down with the instrument placed between his knees. He played all the strings in a row, delivering the most angelic of sounds to Pocahontas's ears.
"That's beautiful!" Pocahontas remarked. John Rolfe smiled at her and began to play. The song was an idyllic piece that brought visions of green and florid pastures to Pocahontas's mind. When it ended, the girls at the table all clapped. For a second time, the applause surprised Pocahontas as she had nearly forgotten about the Hunt Ball. She followed the other women's example and clapped too. Clapping was not a Powhatan custom, but she found it a very interesting way to give praise for a worthy performance. "You should start practicing again. I would like to hear more music in the future," she requested.
"Very well, my love," John Rolfe obliged. Louise raised a brow.
Nicole raised her hand shyly. "I do not mean to brag, but I've been known to play the harp as well on social occasions. Papa always had me play when we had guests."
John Rolfe handed the harp to Nicole. "Your turn, then. Entertain us, mademoiselle."
…
After the music was over and the dishes put away, the vigil started. It was a beautiful ceremony. John Rolfe had the ship anchored near the shore. No wind came from the sea as each girl held a lighted candle. Rolfe gave an introductory speech on the nature of loss. Four girls took turns to say a few words of their own, bestowing names and identities on some of the men, women, and children lost in the pirate attack. In the end, they blew the candles out and dropped them into the water as a sign of closure on the matter.
Once the observance was over, everyone stayed up for another hour just to talk. Nicole once again struck up a conversation with John Rolfe, one which Pocahontas could overhear but not understand. She had Louise whisper translations in her ear. Somehow the conversation went from oil painting to the nature of God to Parisian fashion. Rolfe was an avid lover of fashion, as he showed a passion for it to rival Nicole's.
"Speaking of which, I think you simply must choose an elegant name for your design," John Rolfe proposed, gesturing to the outfit that Nicole was wearing.
She glanced at her attire. "Oh! Yes, of course. Huh, I'll have to think that one over," she uttered, lightly rubbing her chin. "Come to think of it… you ought to name your ship, Captain Rolfe. I shouldn't like to think the girls and I are aboard the Blood Draw. Ugh, what a hideous name! Heaven willing, there will be no more bloodshed."
The women nodded in agreement around the table. "My ship?" John Rolfe repeated after her, caught off-guard by the proposal. "Well, I hadn't thought of it like that."
"You are the captain," Nicole pointed out. "So you are the most qualified." She watched as John Rolfe lightly scratched his clean-shaven chin, deep in thought. The blonde leaned lithely over to him. "I'll give you a hint. It is commonly considered bad luck to name a ship after a male." She smiled and winked at him, sitting back in her chair.
Pocahontas was instantly blindsided by Nicole's very overt body language. A feeling of strong resentment rose in the Powhatan princess's chest. She shook it off quickly, telling herself she was overreacting or just plain wrong. Before John Rolfe could reply to Nicole's comment, the young blonde's friend Jacqueline added, "As we all know, French names are the loveliest. Our tongue is not so much a language as an art form."
John Rolfe seemed oblivious to Jacqueline's words. He turned his attention back to the women. "If we all agree that this is my ship," he began slowly, "am I correct in thinking that none of you ladies would care what I do with it after this voyage is over?"
"Of course not," Nicole and Jacqueline replied in unison. All the other Frenchwomen echoed the sentiment with murmurs of agreement and lots of nods.
John Rolfe grinned and smacked the tabletop, making all the women jolt in surprise—Pocahontas included. He jumped out of his seat and darted over to the railing, quite enthused about the prospect. "I've got it! I've got the perfect name and destiny for this ship. Mademoiselle Nicole, toss me that empty wine bottle if you don't mind."
Nicole mirrored his enthusiasm as she granted his request. He deftly caught the dark green bottle in one hand before it could fall over the bow of the ship. "Louise, if you could please translate my words for Pocahontas," he asked with a flourishing gesture, receiving a nod. He climbed up on the railing, holding on to a taut line to avoid falling over. Pocahontas looked nervous at the act, but he was pretty stable on his feet.
John Rolfe cleared his throat and held up the empty wine bottle by its neck. "In the name of the English, French, and Powhatan nations, I hereby christen this ship the Princess Pocahontas!" The Englishman pointed the bottle directly at Pocahontas and then he turned and immediately shattered it off the bow. The shards of green glass fell safely into the calm dark waters below, as the all-female crew stared in stunned silence.
John Rolfe hopped down from the rail. "And just like that, the Blood Draw is no more! I'll not hear another mention of that dreadful name. I'll scrape the old paint off the ship first thing on the morrow. We'll tear the ship's black flag to shreds and I'll commission you, Mademoiselle Nicole, to sew either a French flag or an English flag—or both. If we should meet any other ships, we will want them to know that we are legit from a distance so they won't break out the cannons on us—Lord forbid," he proudly announced.
Nicole still sat frozen in stunned silence, despite having just been addressed. Most of the girls were enthused about the ship's new name. Hearing Louise's translation, Pocahontas placed a hand to her chest. "You want to name this ship after me, John?"
John Rolfe strolled back to his seat, turning to her with his full attention. "Yes! In fact, I just did. Isn't it perfect, Pocahontas? I can present this ship and all its treasures to your father for your bride-wealth." He looked thoughtfully at the vessel around them and rose to his feet again, making his way over to the railing. He noted the chipped paint and the tattered sails above, blushing as he glanced back at her. "Not in its current condition, of course. I shall have the ship fixed up first and painted anew," he quickly added.
Pocahontas's eyes widened. The diplomat's grand proposal overwhelmed her senses. Louise raised a brow at her and gazed at John Rolfe. "Monsieur Rolfe?" she uttered, not wanting to interrupt his interaction with Pocahontas. He turned his attention to her. "May I ask what is bride-wealth? So I can translate for my friends?" she inquired.
John Rolfe chuckled kindly. "Care to explain, Pocahontas? Bride-wealth is a custom of Pocahontas's people. She has told me much of Powhatan customs over the past several months. Bride-wealth is one of them. Think of it as a reverse dowry."
Pocahontas nodded and turned to Louise. "A bride-wealth is a gift given to the parents of a woman by a suitor to demonstrate the value he places upon her. If the bride-wealth is insufficient, the parents will often not consent to the marriage." She spun back to Rolfe. "But this ship will be far more than any bride-wealth I have ever heard of!"
John Rolfe slid smoothly back into his seat, taking one of her hands in his. "It is nothing compared to my love for you. To equal that, I would have to harvest the moon and stars themselves for your father," he replied in a deep voice, kissing her hand.
Pocahontas felt her heart flutter as she gazed into his eyes. They started to lean toward each other but froze solid when Louise squealed. "You two are to wed?!" the Frenchwoman exclaimed, leaping up from her seat in a frenzy. She pressed the palms of her hands to her cheeks, so completely taken aback by the news was she.
Pocahontas and John Rolfe peered at Louise with surprise in their eyes and then nodded. "If her father will consent to our union, then yes," the Englishman clarified.
"Why did neither of you mention it before?" Louise interrogated. In retrospect, she thought she had heard John Rolfe refer to Pocahontas as 'my love,' but she had later decided she must have misheard. It had seemed an unlikely union at first.
Pocahontas and John Rolfe exchanged glances. "No one asked," they replied in unison.
Louise fanned herself excitedly. She turned to her curious peers and provided the full translation of all that had transpired, struggling to contain her excitement. "Isn't it romantic?!" she shrieked, clasping her hands together over her heart. A moment later, the girl's eyes rolled back in her head as she passed out cold. Fortunately, two friends were there to catch her when she fell. Pocahontas and John Rolfe looked alarmed.
The table was in an uproar. Excitement, shock, and curiosity were the primary emotions emanating from the boisterous female crowd. John Rolfe tried to calm the Frenchwomen down and answer as many questions as he could. After a while, he began to get tired from the long eventful day. Pocahontas was already slipping off into slumberland in her seat and he did not fail to notice. "Ladies, ladies! If you please, Pocahontas and I would like to retire for the night. There will be plenty of time for storytelling and such over the course of the voyage. Now please show me to the cabin you've fixed up for Pocahontas," he beseeched them all in French, lifting the drowsy woman into his arms as he rose from his seat. "Besides, I'm sure you're all much more tired than you realize."
"This way, Monsieur Rolfe," Nicole said to him. She showed them to what was likely the first mate or quartermaster's cabin on the ship. The blonde helped John Rolfe tuck Pocahontas into bed. Before Nicole left, she turned her attention to Rolfe. "Good night, monsieur. Thank you for saving our lives. We'll never forget what you've done for us," she extolled. Blushing, she blew him a kiss. Then she spun around and left.
John Rolfe's face reddened, but more in confusion. He peered down to Meeko, Percy, and Flit, unable to hold back a few chuckles of nervous laughter at the questioning looks on their faces. "I-I think for the French, it's just a friendly gesture," he clumsily surmised. He reached down and lifted Percy and Meeko up onto the mattress, hoping to put the awkward moment behind them. The raccoon curled up at Pocahontas's side and Percy did the same at the foot of the bed. Flit buzzed down and made himself a nest out of Meeko's fur. "Good night, boys," Rolfe bade, giving Meeko a scratch behind the ears and Percy a pat on the head. He blew out the only candle in the room and made his exit. John Rolfe found it easy to sleep that night. For the first time in weeks, he had not a worry or care.
SEPTEMBER 26, 1613
When the next day dawned, he was the first person on the ship to rise. Dressed in his usual best, he went to gently awaken the crew. Lorraine set about making everyone breakfast as Rolfe and the crewwomen raised the anchor, preparing the ship for the day's sailing. The Englishman did not wake Pocahontas up until breakfast was ready. He had the Frenchwomen eat in shifts so that the ship was always tended to.
Nicole stood at the helm, tightening her jaw at the sight of the young couple enjoying a leisurely breakfast together down on deck. Pocahontas was laughing at one of John Rolfe's jokes when she happened to glance up and catch sight of a furious death glare coming her way. Nicole cast her gaze elsewhere, feigning a look of nonchalance when Pocahontas caught her staring. The Powhatan woman raised an eyebrow in concern, but her attention was quickly stolen when Rolfe's warm hand casually brushed by hers. She was rapidly swept back into the intriguing conversation with her paramour.
Near the end of the meal, Pocahontas spotted Nicole watching John Rolfe. Unlike the death glare Pocahontas herself had received, the look in Nicole's eyes was soft and dreamy. It was as if her mind was in the clouds as she observed the comely English gentleman from a distance. A feeling that Pocahontas could only place as irritation arose within her. She jerked her head away from the view of the helm and scowled.
John Rolfe did not fail to notice. "You alright, love?" he inquired, gently placing a hand over hers. "You don't look very happy right now. Is it something I said?"
Pocahontas came out of her agitated reverie. "What? No! No, no, no. I'm fine, John," she reassured him, taking his hand in hers. "I… um… I was just remembering those evil men and how they kidnapped all these poor sweet girls. I just hope they end up paying the full price for all that they've done. The memory just irritated me, that's all," she lied.
John Rolfe looked surprised at the thought, but also relieved. He gave her a sly look. "Oh, ho! Don't you worry, Pocahontas. I'm sure one of the hottest pits of hell is on reserve for those scoundrels. It's just a matter of time before they meet their maker."
Pocahontas loosened up and smiled sweetly. She brought John Rolfe's hand to her lips and kissed the back of it. "You have the most beautiful eyes, John. They remind me of summer leaves and the lush green grass," she declared whimsically.
John Rolfe blushed terribly at the poetic compliment and cleared his throat, reclaiming his composure. He saw a crucial opportunity and was sorely tempted to jump at it. "Why, thank you, Pocahontas," he began, more tentatively than he had hoped. He took a moment to gather his wits and courage, having made up his mind to be even bolder than he had yet dared. Charming a lady properly was always a careful and risky balancing act. Go too far and you send her running, not go far enough and she loses interest.
John Rolfe flashed her a wily grin, catching her off-guard. "Speaking of which, you've got the most mesmerizing pair of eyes I've ever seen," he spoke audaciously. He gave her a doting look and leaned in closer until their eyes were about six inches apart. The English gentleman took her small hand in both of his, gently massaging the muscles of her palm, as he rose from his seat just enough to bring his lips right next to her ear. His clean-shaven cheek brushed by hers. Pocahontas widened her eyes, having never seen him act this way before. But she was drawn in like a moth to a flame. "Profound and innocent. So full of courage, love, and wonder. You remind me of a part of myself I once knew," he uttered enticingly to her. He drew back and pressed his lips to hers.
John Rolfe's hot breath, masculine scent, and flattering words made Pocahontas's heart explode in her chest. Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum! it throbbed, as an electric current washed over the whole surface of her skin. Every hair stood on end, every nerve ending tingled. Pocahontas slid her hands over his shoulders and behind his neck, pulling him closer and forgetting all about Nicole. It was the most tantalizing feeling she had gotten from Rolfe short of when he appeared in her most carnal dreams at night.
When they pulled apart, Pocahontas was in a happy daze as she gazed dreamily at his flushed face. Louise suddenly appeared with Pocahontas's buckskin dress and trousers. "All clean!" she declared, interrupting John Rolfe and Pocahontas's otherwise unbreakable fixation on each other. Both of them jumped slightly, jerking their attention to the lovely French maiden. She smiled, presenting Pocahontas's clothes.
"Great!" Pocahontas replied, chuckling shyly as she threw a furtive glance over to John Rolfe. She happily accepted the items. "I think I would like to change back now."
"I'll take you to your cabin, love," John Rolfe offered, moving around the table to lift her up out of the chair. "Really, your eyes are lovely. Especially in the morning sunlight," he breathed in her ear, heading toward the stairs to Pocahontas's accommodations. Their laughter and chitchat gradually faded as they made their way below deck.
Louise began to clean up the table that Pocahontas and John Rolfe had been sitting at, humming a merry tune to herself. She took the dirty dishes down below for washing and reemerged up top with a big smile on her face. Turning her attention to the helm, she climbed the stairs up to where Nicole was standing with her hands on the wheel. "Your turn to breakfast, Nicole. I'll take over for you while you're busy."
"It's disgusting," Nicole muttered, digging her nails into the wood.
Though Louise did not understand Nicole's mumbling, she took note of the livid look on the young girl's face. "Is something wrong, my friend?" she inquired, concerned.
Nicole snapped her head to glare at Louise. "He should not be marrying her! There is a reason that swans don't breed with frogs. It's against the laws of nature and of God. A man of his standing belongs with a beautiful and civilized lady of rank. He should know better than to marry a heathen—and one so far below himself at that!" she spat.
Louise furrowed her brows. "I beg your pardon, below him? Pocahontas is a princess."
"Ha!" Nicole snapped. "You cannot compare redskin royalty to white royalty. She's nothing compared to the Dauphin de France." She paused to think for a moment. "She must have him under some kind of spell, that's the only explanation. She's a witch!"
Louise gasped and clapped her hand over Nicole's mouth. "Don't you say such things! If your accusation is false, you could endanger the life of an innocent woman."
Nicole tore Louise's hand away. "And if it's true?"
"I don't see how it could possibly be," Louise countered. "I'm not even sure that witches really exist. I don't know about you, but I've certainly never met one."
Nicole gave her a look of skepticism. "Maybe you have and you just don't know it."
"Impossible!"
"Don't be so sure," Nicole warned, pulling Louise over to the helm. "I have lost my appetite, but I have other things to do. Don't tell them what I said! Just keep an eye on her. You'll see. There's something off about that woman." Nicole sneered and went down below, leaving Louise to puzzle over everything that the young blonde had told her.
John Rolfe and Pocahontas reappeared on deck about twenty minutes later. Pocahontas was back in her usual attire with her short hair loose and fluttering in the wind. Rolfe's attention was briefly taken by a crewwoman who needed help with a difficult task that required masculine strength. Meanwhile, Pocahontas used crutches to move around the lower deck. Her animal friends followed her to the starboard side. She put her crutches down and used the railing to lean over and peer into the sparkling water.
Louise was watching Pocahontas with a worried expression. Distracted, she failed to notice when John Rolfe approached her station. "Smooth sailing, first mate," he announced, causing her to jolt. "Why don't I take the helm so you can go work on the riggings. The wind's picking up and we need someone to reef the topsails."
Louise shook off her anxiety and gave a salute. "Oui, capitaine," she replied, allowing him to take her place. She hesitated before leaving to climb the shrouds. "Monsieur?"
John Rolfe flashed a smile. "Yes, Mademoiselle Louise?"
Louise glanced down at Pocahontas. "I was just wondering something. How come Princess Pocahontas chooses to dress like that when there are beautiful dresses on this ship that she could wear?" she inquired, shrugging. "It just seems a little odd."
"Oh?" John Rolfe replied. "On the contrary, it's not odd at all. That's how her people dress, save for the trousers. Not sure why she's still wearing those, but I'm glad of it. I'd be afraid she might trip limping around lower deck with crutches in a long dress."
Louise paused but then she nodded, apparently accepting the answer. She descended the stairs and fearlessly climbed the shrouds up to the topsails. The day went by smoothly, with some light drizzling rain in the evening. It did not last long and everything was dry again by the time everyone anchored the ship and went to bed. Four more days went by much the same—uneventful and always with good weather on the horizon.
…
SEPTEMBER 30, 1613
Catching up to the ship was not as easy as Adahy had thought it would be. The nearly all-female crew was highly competent and the ship was able to travel much faster and farther than Adahy's pathetic little dinghy. Plus, he had to stop to rest as well. The good news was that his sword hand had nearly grown back. It just lacked the final phalange on the pinky finger. Even the copper tone of the skin matched the rest of his arm. Fortunately for Adahy though, he had managed to stay well ahead of the pirate crew.
But the demon was growing more and more desperate. It finally told Adahy that more extreme measures were needed. We must do a grand summoning, it hissed.
Adahy gasped. The proposal was beyond extreme and Adahy had no idea how they would be able to pull it off in their situation. Summonings required powerful magic. "I don't know how," Adahy fretted. "I'm only one man, not even a magician."
The secret to a grand summoning is human sacrifices, the demon revealed. As well as an ultimate sacrifice, but that will be revealed later. Adahy had no idea what the demon meant by an 'ultimate sacrifice' or that it would be 'revealed later.' Perhaps against his better judgment, he had grown to trust the demon so he failed to ask all the questions that were on his mind. The copper-skinned man brought the boat into shore and hid it in high grasses, covering up the trail it had left in the sand. Kelele, he sent out to go hunt. Adahy himself climbed up an oak tree that reached out over the water. He made a concealed nest in the thick foliage where he could see well over the water, yet stay hidden.
It was from this vantage point that Adahy watched and waited for many hours. Sometime after dusk, the crew appeared on the moonlit southern horizon, rowing along in their makeshift rafts. The vessels were surprisingly well-constructed given their lack of tools. Adahy grinned devilishly as the pirates passed through the calm waters right beneath him, completely unaware of his dark presence. To Adahy's delight, they came to a stop barely half a mile north of his location. In the black of night, he crept down from his perch and hiked toward where the exhausted crew had chosen to make camp for the evening.