Love Me, Marietta

by Jennifer Wilde

  We took another short break. Dobbs and Ginty passed canteens around, allowing us only a brief swallow each. I took the opportunity to give Bessie one of the pieces of dried beef I had hidden. She accepted it silently, eyes staring blankly. Although I had tried to do it surreptitiously, Nadine saw me give the food to the girl and rushed over to report it to Quince, hoping to ingratiate herself. She received a fierce slap across the mouth for her efforts, and I waited for Quince to come over with his whip. He didn’t even turn around to glance in our direction, clearly he had other things on his mind.

  “That was a close one,” Em said, standing beside me. “Nadine is a real prize, isn’t she? If there’s one thing I hate more than a hypocrite, it’s a bloody squealer. She’s going to get hers, all right. It’s inevitable.”

  “You’re gonna get yours, too,” Tremayne told her.

  Neither of us had noticed the muscular young pirate standing nearby, and I paled as I realized he, too, must have seen me give the food to Bessie. He stood in front of us now, hands on hips, but he didn’t pay the least attention to me. He had eyes only for Em, and they were filled with appreciation of her raffish charms.

  “Oh?” she said.

  “Tonight,” he retorted.

  “You’ll have to fight Dobbs and Ginty, luv. Both of them have staked a claim.”

  “Neither of ’em are gonna tangle with me, wench. I’m Red Nick’s second-in-command.”

  “You are?”

  “I’m over all these louts. Quince, he wields the whip, but me, I got the authority. I don’t like anything, all I gotta do is say the word to Red Nick. He hasn’t been happy with these roundups, the men were losing too many women. He sent me along this time to keep an eye on things, make a special report.”

  “Then you must live on the island?”

  “Have my own place right across the courtyard from Red Nick’s.”

  “How fascinating,” Em remarked.

  “You can forget about Dobbs and Ginty, wench. Tonight you’re gonna share a blanket with me.”

  “I can hardly wait, luv.”

  Tremayne strolled away, his broad shoulders rolling under the snug blue and gray striped jersey. A blissful smile played on Em’s small pink mouth, and her hazel eyes were positively aglow with delight.

  “There you are,” she said, “and he’s not bad-looking either, nice features, wicked brown eyes, a magnificent physique. I couldn’t be happier about it. After tonight he’s not about to let me be shipped to Rio.”

  Quince cracked his whip and ordered us to get back in line, and we continued our march. The light was gradually fading, taking on a faint pinkish tint. The smell of salt was stronger now, a distinct tang that was marvelously refreshing. Palm fronds rattled overhead, and we were able to move much faster now that the ground was solid and there were no roots and vines to obstruct us. We marched for perhaps half an hour before the light turned dark orange, streaming through the trees in rapidly fading rays. The light was almost gone when I heard the roar of waves slapping over sand. Darkness had fallen entirely when we stumbled through the last line of trees and onto the broad beach.

  “Thank God that’s over,” Em said. “No more alligators. Now all we have to worry about is sharks. I hear these waters are alive with ’em. I wonder if they ever sneak up on the beach?”

  “I doubt it, Em.”

  “Never can tell. They’re awfully sly and crafty.”

  Most of the women sank onto the sand in exhaustion. The pirates gathered up driftwood and lighted three fires that soon were blazing in crackling red-orange fury. Water and food were distributed, a paltry amount of the latter. Em and I were grateful for the extra we had been able to hide earlier on, although it didn’t go far as we shared it with Bessie and the young Negro girl who huddled beside us. Her name was Corrie, and she had a frail, delicate beauty. The fires had begun to burn down when the pirates selected their partners for the night. Tremayne tapped Em on the shoulder and gave her a curt nod, indicating a spot beneath one of the palm trees. Nadine ran shrieking back toward the trees as Dobbs approached her. He lunged after her, slinging an arm around her throat and dragging her back.

  Bessie, Corrie, and I were unmolested. We shivered miserably under the heavy blankets the pirates had tossed us, for the night was cold, the wind blowing over the water icy and unrelenting. Bessie sobbed in her sleep. Corrie continued to shiver. I finally managed to fall asleep despite the crash of the waves and the lurid sounds of coupling punctuated by screams. A faint golden streak was visible on the horizon when I woke. Em was shaking my shoulders. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Everyone else was asleep, several of the pirates snoring.

  “I found out all about him,” she whispered. “He has a woman, her name is Maria, but here’s the important part, luv—he’s tired of her. She gives herself airs, has gotten much too big for her breeches. That’s what Michael says.”

  “Michael?”

  “Michael Tremayne, luv. Who did you think I meant? He says Red Nick has his eye out for a replacement. Oh, luv, look! There’s the ship! There on the horizon. Can you see it?”

  She pointed. As the golden streak spread, spangling the water with flecks of dancing light, we could see the ship approaching. We watched in silence, and soon we could see the flag waving high on the tallest mast. It was solid black, and as it snapped in the wind we could see the skull and crossbones quite clearly. The ship stopped, riding the waves as anchor was dropped. Boats were lowered. Red Nick had come to pick up his goods.

  Ten

  Tremayne awakened and, seeing the ship and the approaching boats, roused the other pirates, suddenly taking on the authority he hadn’t bothered to display earlier. He barked orders curtly, and even Quince hurried to obey. As early morning sunlight gleamed bright and drove away the pale pink of dawn, the youth with the stern brown eyes and broad shoulders took complete charge. The rest of the women were awakened. We were assembled in a ragged line. Bessie stared in front of her with empty eyes. Corrie trembled beside me, and I took her hand. Nadine fussed with her hair, primping for the new arrivals. The three boats bobbed on the water, drawing nearer.

  “It’s going to be all right, Corrie,” I said.

  “I’se afraid, Miz Marietta.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.

  “We’re all afraid.”

  “My mistress, Miz Henrietta, she wudn’t pleased with me. She didn’t like the way I done her hair. She tole Mista Buck to sell me an’ he sold me to the bad men. One uv ’em took my cherry. I bled somethin’ awful. They’se goin’ to put me in a bad place so’s other men can stick their things in me.”

  “Maybe not, Corrie. You—you must be brave.”

  “I’ll try, Miz Marietta, but I’se so scared.”

  When the boats were a few yards from shore, the men leaped out, took hold of long ropes attached to the bows, and waded on to shore, pulling the boats behind them. There were six men, all dressed in motley pirate attire, bandanas around their heads, cutlasses at their sides, knives and pistols thrust into their belts. One of them, a sullen giant with coal black hair and a beak-like nose, approached Tremayne with a disgusted look in his fierce gray eyes.

  “Not a very promisin’ lot, Mike,” he grumbled.

  “A couple of ’em aren’t so bad,” Tremayne replied.

  “The wench in pink, the one with the teats half hangin’ out, she oughta fetch a good sum.”

  “She’s not for sale.”

  “Keepin’ her for yourself?”

  Tremayne nodded. The pirate with the beak-like nose strolled slowly down the line of women, examining each one of us with a disgruntled expression. He wore tall black boots, black trousers, and a loose-fitting green shirt with full sleeves. His bandana was green, too, and a gold hoop dangled from his left earlobe. He paused in front of Nadine, clutching her chin in his hand, jerking her head from left to right.

  “They like ’em skinny in Rio,” he declared. “Once she’s washed up and put in a new dress, this one’ll do. She oughta bring
a hundred pounds. How much you pay for her, Quince?”

  “Didn’t pay nuthin’,” Quince retorted. “Nabbed her when she was comin’ outta her lover’s room. Clamped a hand over her mouth, dragged her down the back stairs.”

  “How ’bout the rest of ’em?”

  “Paid fifty pounds for the little nigger. Paid two hundred and fifty for that tall redhead. Hart wanted five hundred. Paid a hundred for that one in yellow, one of our agents nabbed her. The rest of ’em were snatched by our own men.”

  “Total outlay three hundred pounds. Too bloody much. We won’t get more’n a coupla thousand for the whole lot, less’n that if Mike means to keep the one with the teats.”

  “We did the best we could,” Quince protested.

  “Your best ain’t good enough, Quince. You come up with another lot like this, you and your men are gonna find yourselves manning the oars again. Red Nick’s gonna be bloody unhappy when he sees these dogs.”

  “It ain’t as easy as it used to be, Draper. Hart and the rest of ’em ain’t supplyin’ like they was, and me ’n the boys, we have to be careful, have to keep outta sight. Nabbin’ a wench ain’t all that simple.”

  Draper turned to Tremayne. “What do you think, Mike?”

  “Quince and his boys know the swamps like the backs of their hands. That ain’t to be sneezed at, Draper. Quince uses his whip a mite too much, and his boys are a mite rough on the wenches, but they hadn’t lost any this time. Red Nick ain’t been happy, but I don’t reckon he could do much better. We put new men on the job, they’re likely to spend the rest of their lives wanderin’ these swamps tryin’ to find a way out.”

  “That what you gonna tell Red Nick?”

  Tremayne nodded. Draper wasn’t happy, but he didn’t care to argue with Red Nick’s second-in-command. Instead, he kicked the sand with the toe of his boot and moved back down the line for a closer look at us. When he stopped in front of me, I met his fierce gaze with cool composure.

  “Two hundred and fifty pounds for this one!” he snarled. “Quince musta been outta his mind! She looks like a bleedin’ aristocrat, cold as ice. They ain’t gonna line up for the likes of her.”

  “She’s got something,” Tremayne said flatly.

  “Nothin’ I can see,” Draper retorted. “Let’s get ’em on the boats and out to the ship. He don’t want to tarry too long in these waters.”

  We were herded onto the boats. Corrie sat on one side of me, Em on the other, Bessie and two other women facing us. A husky pirate climbed in after he had pulled the boat into the water. He took up the oars, and we were on our way to the ship. Corrie sobbed. I slipped my arm around her, and she rested her head on my shoulder, trembling. The boat tipped precariously, riding the waves, the pirate rowing vigorously, muscles rolling beneath his jersey. Bessie stared at the water and gathered bunches of her blue skirt between her fingers, tugging at it, pulling, unaware of what she was doing.

  “Are you all right, luv?” Em asked me.

  “I’m fine, Em. It’s the others I’m worried about. I wish we could do something for them.”

  “I know the feeling, luv. We’re tough. We can handle it. That poor child beside you—she’s utterly defenseless.”

  “We’ve got to help her, Em. At least we can help Corrie.”

  “I don’t know how, luv. We’ll be doing good to save our own skins.”

  “We can’t let her be shipped to South America.”

  “We’ll think of something, luv.”

  I tightened my arm around the trembling girl and stroked the short black curls that covered her head like a crisp cap. I remembered Cassie, the lovely Negro slave I had helped escape to freedom along with her husband Adam. I had no way of knowing what had ultimately happened to them, but they hadn’t been recaptured, and I liked to think they were safely up north, living a good life with the child Cassie had been carrying when they fled the plantation. I had no idea how I was going to do it, but I was going to help this girl, too. As the boat drew nearer the ship, I resolved to protect her.

  “Stop crying, Corrie,” I said quietly. “Sit up. Wipe your eyes.”

  Corrie obeyed, making a valiant effort to stem her tears. The sun was a brilliant white ball now, climbing the pale blue sky and casting dazzling reflections on the surging blue-gray water. One of the boats ahead of us had already reached the ship. The women were climbing up a rope ladder and being pulled onto the deck by brawny pirates. Em nudged my side, pointing. To our left, perhaps a hundred and fifty yards away, two large gray fins were visible on the surface of the water, circling slowly.

  “Sharks,” she said. “I told you these waters are full of ’em.”

  “They must be enormous, judging from the size of those fins.”

  “I’m paralyzed, luv. I’ll never be able to climb that ladder. One little slip and—splash. Jesus! Look at ’em! They’re coming closer.”

  Em was quite pale, her greenish-brown eyes wide with fear. She closed them and moved her lips in a silent prayer. The last woman in the boat ahead was hauled over the railing and onto the deck, the boat itself raised on ropes and lifted over, disappearing from sight. The pirate rowing our boat loosened his hold on the oars and let the boat drift. It clattered against the side of the ship with a mighty bang that jolted all of us.

  “Jesus Christ!” Em roared. “Take it easy, you bastard! Do you want to dump us all in the water!”

  “Up the ladder, wench!” he ordered.

  “You must be joking, luv. If you think I’m going to shimmy up that flimsy hunk of rope, you’re out of your mind.”

  The pirate smiled. He caught hold of her arm, jerked her to her feet and heaved her up in the air, tossing her toward the side of the ship. Em climbed up the ladder with remarkable agility, her skirts fluttering wildly up over her legs, ragged, ruffled petticoats soaring. As she reached the top, muscular arms reached out, caught hold of her, dragging her over the railing. I whispered encouraging words to Corrie, who had started trembling again. The pirate pulled Bessie to her feet and ordered her to climb. She merely stared at him. He slapped her across the face and shoved her toward the ladder, and she climbed slowly, heavily.

  The other two women went up next, and then the pirate nodded to Corrie. She hesitated, terrified, and I squeezed her hand. Her frail body trembling visibly, she caught hold of the ropes and began to climb, pausing midway and clinging as the ship swayed. I caught my breath, afraid she was going to let go of the ropes. The pirates leaning over the railing yelled loudly, ordering her to keep climbing. She shook her head, her eyes closed tightly.

  “Go on, Corrie!” I called. “You can make it. I’m right behind you.”

  The girl sobbed and moved up a few more rungs. Hands reached down, and she was pulled the rest of the way up. I caught hold of one of the rungs and put my foot in another, pulling myself up. The rope was coarse and scratched my palms. The ladder swung outward, swung back, slapping against the side, almost causing me to lose my grip. No wonder Corrie had been so frightened, I thought, moving up another rung. The wind blew heavy, copper-red waves across my cheeks and tore at my skirts. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the sharks circling, their bodies visible from this angle, long, sleek, moving in a lethargic ballet just beneath the surface. That didn’t help at all. I clung to the ropes and willed myself to move up another rung, another, finally reaching the top. Two pirates caught hold of my wrists and heaved me over the railing, almost pulling my arms out of their sockets.

  “Over there with the rest of ’em!” one of them barked.

  The other women were clustered together near a stack of barrels containing gunpowder. Nadine was primping again, straightening her skirts, shoving pale blonde curls away from her sharp, thin face. Bessie stood to one side, staring at the water, and Em had her arm around Corrie’s waist. Corrie’s lovely brown eyes filled with relief when she saw me approach.

  “I see you made it,” Em said. “I wouldn’t care to go through that again, I can tell you for sure.” />
  “I kept thinking about the sharks.”

  “So did I. Here come the rest of the women. We’ll be pulling up anchor as soon as they’re all aboard. Michael told me. He’s below deck now with the captain. Red Nick’ll be coming up to inspect us in a little while.”

  “You think you know everything, don’t you?” Nadine snapped. “Just because you’re screwing that young pirate you think you’ve got inside information. You little whore! I could have had him if I’d wanted him.”

  “I didn’t notice him paying much attention to you, luv. He was probably afraid you’d give him a dose of clap.”

  “The captain’s going to set me ashore as soon as he finds out who I am. He’s going to set me ashore with one of the men who’ll take me back to New Orleans and collect the reward. Daddy’ll give him a huge reward.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it, luv.”

  One by one, the other women joined us. Overhead, the strong canvas sails cracked, snapping in the wind, causing the ship to rock slowly from side to side, the deck tilting. Ropes hung down from the masts like a tangle of heavy vines, and a pirate without shirt stood in the crow’s nest, peering across the horizon, on the lookout for other ships. The Sea Lyon was enormous, heavily armed with twenty cannon, ten on either side. It was an elegant vessel, gleaming with brass and polished mahogany and showing few signs of combat. I couldn’t help but compare it to the squalid prison ship on which I had crossed the Atlantic. It was like comparing a palace to a hovel, I thought, noticing the elegantly carved banisters leading down to the officers’ quarters.

  “It’s something, isn’t it?” Em said. “It was one of the finest ships in the Spanish fleet before Red Nick took it. One of the fastest, too. I don’t know how many knots an hour—I think Michael said knots, I suppose that means miles. I’m not too good at nautical terms.”

  “We all know what you are good at,” Nadine remarked.

  “You know, luv, I could really grow to dislike you if I tried hard enough. I wish he would put you ashore—on a desert island. They’re bound to be some around here somewhere.”