A Pirate's Wife
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8
April 01, 1625
We are expecting our second child. The medicine woman confirmed my suspicions today. Cisco is overwhelmed once again.
In a few days Manuel will be one year old. What a beautiful, handsome boy. He walks everywhere. He loves being outside and amongst the animals.
Everyone says he will be a farmer one day. Cisco is teaching him everything he knows. Sometimes I have to remind him the child was only one this year. But he is convinced Manuel understands him and continues with the lessons. How could I refuse him the pleasure of being a father? Cisco fills my days with happiness.
What more could I ask?
†††
The Contra O Vento sailed away in the opposite direction from the Heerengardt. The threatening clouds had finally released their waters the moment they had stepped back on deck. The still-unconscious señorita hung over the broad shoulders of the pirate captain. Men watched the procession as they walked down the main stairs to the lower deck.
Roberto’s face was grim as he laid her down on her four-poster bed in the middle of her cabin.
He dismissed Pierre and sat for the rest of the night in the chair in front of the small mahogany desk, watching her sleeping figure. She looked small and fragile on the oversized bed. Tired lines marked the filthy young face. Creases marred her forehead and dark circles under her eyes paled her normal rosy cheeks. One hand rested under her cheek as she slept and he could not help but to admire her again.
When he had patted her down, he had found her pistol and knife and locked it in his trunk for safekeeping. There were no visible signs of struggles on her, other than the fact that she was tired and he bet, hungry as well.
Why did she hide? The captain of the vessel would have helped her unless something spooked her.
His mind was racing, realizing in how much danger she had been, and his anger rose once again, for her foolishness and the danger she had put them all in. Too angry to sleep, although his muscles ached after the strenuous exercise, he stared at her form in men’s clothing. Her shapely legs drew his attention. The curve of her breasts was visible in perfect roundness under the shirt. Three open buttons revealed her delicate skin. His body demanded attention. He paced the floor in discomfort and drank wine.
The room smelled like her, lavender and something sweet, a smell he did not know but had already grown accustomed to it. His imagination was running wild with things he wanted to do to her.
When daylight coloured the water he saw her stir in her sleep. He waited patiently for her to wake, the fear and anger still raging within.
This would be interesting.
†††
When Rosa-Lee awoke, she was in her cabin and the sun was just making its presence known. Tied to the bed pulling at the restrains, she tried to move, but could not.
“You finally decided to join us?”
A stern, angry voice spoke directly in front of her. She lifted her head and looked straight at him, still in a daze. Her head wanted to split in two. The agony of the last two days, without food or water followed by the blow against her head felt like torture. His menacing eyes piercing through her made her fearful of the man dressed in black. His appearance was perfect. Dark hair tucked behind an ear and the meanest look she had ever seen on him. She trembled with fear, yet was happy she was back.
She could only stare at him as she wet her drying lips, reliving the past twenty-four hours.
She had quickly realized that she had made a mistake once she stepped on board of the Heerengardt. The captain was not who he said he was and there was a look of utter disgust on his face, which made his face repulsive.
When he spoke to his crew, she immediately thought of the cruel Captain Breno who was cruel to his crew twenty years ago. He was abrupt and rude as he barked at everyone coming into his view. Rosa-Lee stayed in the background, making sure she did not attract any attention.
She followed him to the captain’s cabin. He flung the D.E.I.C ensign away from him, cursing it. When his second-in-command appeared, the conversation gave it all away. She immediately ducked away into the shadows and kept quiet, listening to the angry conversation.
“Captain, did you find the man you were looking for?”
“No, dammit! It was another dead end. I will find that bastard and kill him.” He gulped the contents in the glass on the table and walked away, the second following him, shutting the door behind him. They muttered angry words, words she could not understand.
Sunlight drenched the cabin, streaming in from large windows. When the men left the cabin she stepped out of the shadows and heard a sound from the closet behind her. She went to investigate. Before she opened the door she had her knife in her hand. A uniformed man lay inside, tied and gagged. His grey-blond hair was dishevelled and an old wound split one cheek. Blood crusted the collar of his white shirt.
She introduced herself to him in whisper. When she removed the gag, the man said that he was the real Captain du Toit and pirates had captured the ship. She could do nothing for him. They both agreed that she must not do anything to attract their attention since they already had killed his second-in-command. She had replaced the gag after assuring him that she would do what she could to rescue him. She crept out in the empty passageway and was ready to go the main stairs when she heard footsteps and she was forced to run down the next set of stairs. She then went out seeking protection in the lower deck where Roberto found her a day later.
She was fearful of discovery and made sure she was well hidden. Footsteps and voices filtered through the upper deck. She could do nothing but wait once again for a moment to slip away. Her situation looked bleak and at times she had to force herself not to give in to the overwhelming thoughts of anguish.
At first she was startled when she saw Roberto unexpectedly, ready to yelp with joy, but he had knocked her unconscious before she could say anything. Now he towered above her, mad as hell, clearly not in the mood to listen.
“Did you for one moment think that I would not notice that you were gone?” came the clipped words laced with bottled up anger.
She could not answer him, too frightened of the man who spoke in a deadly tone. Her tongue still thick from the lack of water, she could only shake her head, squeaking.
“Do you want to say something?” He raised a dark brow.
She nodded her head. Enrico came into sight and offered her some water, helping her sip it.
“You cost me two days,” Roberto continued. “Because you want to be a sailor I am going to treat you like one.”
“Please, Roberto, I know I am at fault, but listen. I need to tell you something,” she said the moment she could speak again.
“I am not interested in anything you have to say at the moment. You have placed us all in danger and I cannot let it pass without punishment.” Before she could react he barked out, “Take her to the upper deck.”
“Roberto, what are you going to do?” Pierre asked fearfully.
“Teach the señorita a lesson.”
“Roberto, I hope you are not serious about doing what I think you are going to do?” and Pierre gasped in shock. He was the captain and he ran the ship as he saw fit. But this. He was taking it too far.
“Yes, exactly.”
“Please, Roberto, I need to tell you something.” Rosa-Lee tried again, pleading as she struggles against the restrains, but he was so angry that he was not willing to listen.
“She is a woman!” Pierre raised his voice to his captain and he raised a dark brow in question. He only received warning flashes back from the dark ochre eyes.
“Who disguises herself as a man, so I will treat her as one,” Roberto seethed. Rosa-Lee was afraid of the man, shivering at the coldness of his tone, not sure what he was going to do to her. By the sound of Pierre, it was something terrible.
Pierre knew this tone. His captain was not to be dissuaded, and it would be wise to be quiet. But she was a woman. This could simply not happen.
“Pierre! The other ship was captured, we must help them…” Her voice broke in fear.
“How do you know this?” he whispered staring at the rigid back of Captain Roberto who walked with long strides to the upper deck.
“They are looking for someone. They were determined to find this man” Her voice was thick with emotion, swallowing the cries which wanted to escape her lips. She was scared, hanging between the men like a rag doll.
Rosa-Lee knew she had to convince them, no matter what happened to her. “That is why I hid in the lower deck. It was not safe there. “She swallowed when they came in the sun, looking at Pierre with pleading eyes. “Please believe me.” She struggled again against the hands that held her in iron grips.
Roberto gave the next command the moment they stepped up onto the upper deck. “Fasten her to the railing!” he barked the next order
His men looked at him in horror. Was their captain out of his mind? Surely he would not whip a woman. It was not done, never. Yet they did as they were told, fearing the captain more at this point.
“Get started.” He spoke through clenched teeth, looking at the boatswain who had the whip in his hand. The man looked at him and then at Pierre with beseeching eyes. It did not matter how hard they were. This was a lady and you did not treat a lady like that.
“Are you disobeying an order, Pirate?” Roberto asked stoically, eyebrows raised, his hands on his hips. Other men moved closer, relieved they were not in the boatswain’s shoes.
“Captain, I never...” The big man’s voice faltered as he watched his captain walked towards Rosa-Lee. Roberto walked over to her and ripped her shirt from her back, exposing her soft, silky skin. His heart missed a beat but he had to continue. He had to be strong and punish her. The law of the sea requires this.
“Captain, wait. Please listen.” Pierre interrupted, touching his arm. Roberto looked at him, annoyed, his face blank.
“She told me something that you need to know, Captain.” He kept his voice low. He did not want to show disrespect for the man in front of the crew, but this was important.
“What is it?”
“Can we step aside? I don’t want the crew to hear.”
Roberto kept his eyes on her as they moved away. Another man also looked at her, the lust in his eyes visible for everyone to see, if anyone did look his way. But no one did, the play before them capturing every harden sailor. All eyes were fixated on the woman and the captain.
“Yes?” Roberto looked at him, then at Rosa-Lee, still stretched out between the ropes, her soft back exposed in the sun. She wiggled her wrists but the ropes cut through the soft skin and red bruises formed. Roberto bit hard down on his jaw; he could not afford to be soft.
Leaning his head closer to his second-in-command, Roberto strained to hear as Pierre softly continued.
“The Heerengardt was captured. She did not make a distress call because the men were looking for someone else. She was hiding, hoping to get away as soon as possible. She realized she made a mistake. Roberto, you cannot flog this woman! You will have a mutiny on your hands. Look at the men.”
At first he did not want to. Seeing the worried eyes of his friend made him glance around. They barely hid their angry glares. The woman was still tied against the railing, struggling to loosen herself from the bonds.
“Then it makes sense what we saw: no guards and only drunken men.”
“Yes, Roberto. Let her go.”
“Untie her!” he roared. The men sagged with relief.
The boatswain was the first to get to her, and he untied her. Roberto removed his jacket and wrapped it around her bare shoulders. As she slumped down, he caught her before she hit the deck and took her to his grand cabin.