Desiree learned some basics about life at sea, but she was not as eager to become a qualified sailor as Serena. She spent some time with Ian adding Avicenna’s medical wisdom to their two French language versions of the Books of Healing. Ian intended to leave one with Rosemarie so she could have copies produced. She also helped Ian and Jacques work out prices for their cargo. Ian had included some exotic medicines in the cargo, including opium poppy seed pods. Ian felt they had not received full value for their herbs and spices on their previous trip to France, because he and Jacques were not patient, or shrewd, enough to know the cargo’s value in the French market, and haggle for better prices.
At night, the four plus Captain LeBeau and Louis sat on the top deck under the stars, enjoying the balmy Mediterranean breeze, exchanging small talk, and downing mugs of German ale Pierre had brought on board for his special friends. Desiree passed on the ale and sipped mugs of oriental tea, tea Ian and Jacques had brought as part of their cargo to sell.
One night off the coast of Sicily, they relaxed on deck under a brilliant full moon, and enjoyed smooth sailing with a steady wind. Ian usually addressed LeBeau as Captain LeBeau, but this night LeBeau responded with, “Call me Pierre. We are all co-owners of our ships. When we pick up our third ship in Marseille, we will have a new Captain. I propose a toast to Captain Louis . . . LeFriant.” Pierre raised his mug of beer, “Hear, hear.”
“To Captain Louis LeFriant!” the others shouted.
“Louis, I have known you since I was a boy,” Jacques said. “I know LeFriant is not your birth name. I’ve never pried into your history, but I’ve always been curious.”
“So you want me to tell you about my childhood?”
They all replied in the affirmative.
“Your father and mother, Jacques, and you too, Ian, are the most generous and gracious people I’ve ever met. Your father brought me home as a ten-year-old boy in 1079. My parents had been killed by pirates. Your parents treated me like a son, although they never adopted me like they did Ian. I worked around the estate and developed all the skills, carpentry, masonry, farrier, metal smith, anything and everything I could, so I would be able to give back, but as I said already, I was always treated as a son, and not as a servant.”
“I don’t mean to intrude, but except the part where your parents were killed by pirates, we knew that much already,” Ian said.
Louis looked around at his audience. “If you insist. My birth father was a Greek sea captain with his own ship. My father and mother were very devoted to each other, to me, and to our ship and crew. My mother sailed with us on our last voyage because she wanted to visit France, and didn’t want to be separated from my father and myself for the two months we would be gone from Greece to Italy, to France, and back. We were attacked at sea by pirates while carrying Italian olive oil from Rome to Marseille.
The pirates spared my life, but killed my father and mother and all the crew. The pirates sold the olive oil on the Marseille docks for a fraction of its worth before anyone realized the cargo was pirate plunder. I dove off the side of the ship and swam to shore as they were leaving port. Luc found me in the marketplace, hungry, ragged and lost. I told Luc about the pirates, but they were long gone. He took me home with him and I have lived on the estate ever since.”
The group looked at Louis expecting more of the story, but out of courtesy did not ask any more questions.
“You want to know my birth name . . . it’s Louis Genaris.”
“I am proud to know you Louis Genaris LeFriant,” said Pierre, “and am proud to have you as the Captain of our third ship.”
“Thank you for sharing your story,” added Jacques. “I’ve known you all my life, but never knew your history. You were always Louis to me. The fellow who could do anything. I’ve always looked up to you.”
“Thank you, Jacques. I’m not getting any younger and have often longed to return to the sea of my youth. I’m honored to Captain one of our ships, but would like to contract for three years, renewable only if all parties, including myself agree. Is that acceptable?”
“Agreed.” declared Pierre, and they all raised their mugs in solidarity.
They each took a long swallow of ale except Desiree who sipped her tea.
“I’ll sign your Mariner’s registration and Captain’s papers in Marseille, but I have one caveat.”
“And what is that?”
“You must train your own replacement before you retire.”
“Agreed,” replied Louis.
“Enough of business, let’s have another round, and enjoy the balmy night air,” said Jacques. “Let’s see who can tell the most outrageous story as sailors are prone to do.”
“Does that mean the stories that start with ‘this really happened to me,’ or ‘this is a true story, no shite,’ or ‘once upon a time?” Serena asked.
“Any of those,” replied Pierre with his signature swashbuckler grin, “or all three. . . And you, Mistress Serena, are turning into one fine sailor. A mighty fine sailor, indeed.”
Eight
Jacques approached ian and Pierre in the galley. “Another ship seems to be trying to overtake us. Come, have a look.”
As they arrived on deck Ian saw another ship, slightly larger than their own closing the gap between them. What are they up to, he wondered?
“Looks like pirates,” Pierre said over Ian’s shoulder.
“Have you encountered pirates before?” asked Jacques.
“Once.”
“What did you do?” asked Ian.
“I outran them, but this pursuer seems to have a large crew, more sail, and is hell bent on attacking us.”
“I’m going to roust Serena and Desiree and warn them. Are any of your crew capable of fighting?” Ian asked. “I estimate they will be upon us in another half hour.”
“Three of my crew can handle a sword, plus our two Italian knight passengers might be of some benefit. I’ll tell the merchant from Rome to stay below with the girls.”
The three of them prepared to greet the pirates.
“I’m not sitting below decks while you fight pirates. I have my own sword!” Serena shouted. She approached them and brandished the sword she made as a gift for Luc.
“Crafting a sword and killing a man with one are two very different things. I can’t stand here and argue with you. They’ll be boarding us any minute, now.” Ian turned to Desiree, “Desiree, please talk some sense into her.” Ian climbed the ladder to the top deck with scimitar in hand ready for a fight.
The pirate ship bumped up against the Rose Blanche, with a starboard hull smashing ‘thump.’ Several unkempt, vile men clambered aboard Rose Blanche with swords in hand and dirks clenched between their teeth. One pirate fell between the ships and was crushed with the sound of breaking bones when the two ships bounced off each other a second time. Two of the pirates attempted to lash the ships together.
Jacques and Pierre engaged two pirates with swords clashing against swords. The pirates fought like crazed daemons, but Jacques and Pierre fought like disciplined warriors. Jacques blocked and parried his opponent with the skill and temper achieved over many years and battles. He gained a split second opening in the pirate’s guard and lopped off the man’s right forearm.
Pierre blocked his adversary’s swing, pressed up against his stinking opponent, then pushed him backwards over the rail. More pirates piled on board out manning Ian, Jacques and Pierre two to one.
Ian engaged three of the men, managing to keep them at bay, until he looked over his shoulder to discover Serena clashing swords with a rather large pirate, swinging the largest sword Ian had ever seen. Ian attacked his adversaries like a berserker with no mercy, cutting them multiple times with his scimitar, not for cruelty, but for rapid dispatch. Fighting pirates, he decided, was not hampered by rules of combat, much less chivalry, when it came to protecting his loved ones.
Ian turned to Serena’s foe and struck him a glancing blow across his leather covered back.
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The toothless vermin swung his oversized sword at Ian with enough force to fell a three-inch diameter tree with one blow. Ian stopped the blow against his scimitar blade. But the blade vibrated up his hands to his elbows almost making him lose his grip.
The vile pirate then fell forward causing Ian to have to step aside to prevent the man’s headless body from falling on him. The pirate’s body landed front down at Ian’s feet; his head rolled across the rocking deck dripping blood as it rolled.
Serena raised her sword and cried out, “You can thank me later.”
Ian and Serena turned their attentions to the half a dozen pirates that Jacques and Pierre and the two Italian knights were battling sword on sword. Ian noticed that Desiree had taken over the wheel and the sailor she had relieved was trying unsuccessfully to fend off an aggressive pirate. Ian decided to aid Joseph, the helmsman, and protect Desiree. He nodded to Serena to assist Jacques and ran toward Joseph. One flash of his scimitar in the bright sunlight of midday, and the pirate was cut almost in twain from the top of his head down.
Desiree was safe for now. She called out above the din of battle, “Thank you, Ian, thank you, Joseph.”
Ian turned and ran to Serena’s side and ran one of her adversaries through back to front with a surging gush of blood. Serena backed the second pirate up against the rail and jabbed him in his ample belly. The man gurgled blood as he fell dead at her feet. Ian looked about the deck strewn with the bodies of a dozen pirates and two of Captain LeBeau’s crewmen.
The pirates had managed to lash their ship to the Rose Blanche at the beginning of the battle, which now seemed to be a positive turn of events. The pirates were being defeated and couldn’t escape.
Pierre, a lifelong sailor, grasped the fortunate turn of events and called to Ian, “Let’s board her.”
Ian and Pierre jumped onto the rail and then aboard the pirate ship. The two pirates left on the pirate ship to guard the pirate captain dropped their swords on the deck and surrendered to Ian.
Jacques assessed the situation on board Rose Blanche. He ordered two of the Rose Blanche crewmen to, “Assist Ian and Pierre and take charge of the pirate ship.” He ordered the cook and navigator to, “Unlash Rose Blanche from the pirate ship and get us back on course. Throw the pirate bodies overboard and take care of our injured.”
Jacques jumped up on the rail and noticed two sailors hoisting one of the pirates onto the rail prepared to toss his body into the sea when the pirate moved. He wasn’t dead. The two crewmen threw the pirate overboard anyway. Jacques noticed the apexes of several shark dorsal fins cruising the water below. Once the injured and bleeding pirate hit the water he screamed and thrashed about, but only briefly, as he was dragged below the surface in a roil of reddish seawater.
Ian stood by while Pierre pounded on the bolted door of the pirate captain’s cabin.
“Open up, or it will go worse for you.” Pierre took a slight step back in the narrow passageway and kicked in the door.
The pirate captain had been standing behind the door and was knocked to the deck when the door caved in.
Pierre lifted the door off the now unconscious brigand and Ian dragged him to the only chair in the room. He bound the pirate with a length of cord retrieved from a woven basket next to the captain’s chart table.
Pierre strode up to the pirate and slapped him across the face with the back of his hand. “I should run you through without further delay.”
“I see you have this situation well in hand. I’m going to check the hold,” Ian said to Pierre.
Ian found Serena on the top deck, “Would you like to help me check the hold? Pierre is having a chat with the pirate captain.”
“Sure.”
Ian strode to the cargo bay hatch, pulled on the ring and removed the hatch. He peered down into the darkness and spotted crates, barrels and several pairs of eyes staring up at him. “Do not fear, we’re here to rescue you!”
The voices below called out, “Thank God! Hurrah!” And a few unrecognized expressions of gratitude.
“Climb up out of there if you’re able.”
Several of the prisoners climbed up the ladder shading their eyes from the bright sunlight.
One of the released prisoners said, “There be two, or more, below who can’t climb.”
“I’ll get’em,” Ian replied tersely, and proceeded down the ladder into the dark void.
“Help me,” begged an exhausted female voice.
Ian searched behind the cargo and found a girl hiding behind a stack of crates out of plain sight. He pushed aside several crates and said, “I’m here to help you.”
“I’m too hurt to move.”
Ian took the girl in his arms and carried her to the ladder. She was light as a feather. She winced in pain as he carried her. He called up to Serena, “Find a couple of blankets and fetch Desiree with my medicine bag.” He scaled the ladder with the girl over his shoulder. Once on deck he laid the girl on the blankets one of the sailors confiscated from the ship. Desiree had not arrived with his medicine bag. “Tell me about your injuries,” he said to the girl as he studied the bruises on her face and body.
“They beat and raped me many times, the bastards . . . and because I fought them every time, they starved me so I wouldn’t have the strength to resist.”
Desiree arrived with the medicine bag.
Ian turned to Desiree, “Can you handle this for a few minutes? There may be at least one more prisoner down there.”
“Go. You can assist when you return,” Desiree replied.
Ian reentered the hold, “Is there anyone else down here?”
“Over here.” a voice whispered off to Ian’s right in the dark. Ian pushed aside a few barrels and discovered a young man lying on his back.
“They threw me down into the hold. I think my right leg is broken.”
Ian felt the man’s leg and diagnosed a clean break of the right tibia. “I’ll be right back. I can’t carry you like this. I will only make things worse.”
“I understand.”
Ian hurried to the base of the ladder and called out, “Desiree!”
After a few moments, Desiree looked down at Ian. “How can I help?”
“Send down one of our sailors with some planking and ropes . . . and bring down a double ration of grog.”
Ian returned to comfort his patient with words of encouragement.
A few minutes later, Pierre’s First Mate arrived with the rope and planks, and Desiree brought a jug of grog and a cup.
“Jeremy, we’re going to tie a plank to this man’s broken leg.” Ian ripped the pantaloons’ right legging apart. He gently felt the leg with his fingers to determine how to tie the leg to the plank with the least amount of added injury. Ian turned to his patient, “By the way, what is your name?”
“Aargh, Ignacio, Father . . . Ignacio,” the man whispered in pain.
“Desiree, give the priest a ration of grog.”
Jeremy raised the priest to an almost a sitting position, elevated enough to drink without gagging. Desiree held the mug to Ignacio’s lips, and Ignacio anticipating what Ian was about to do, gulped a mug full of grog down in three swallows like a seasoned sailor.
“This is going to hurt.” Desiree warned.
“Jeremy, Desiree, hold him securely so I can set the bones.” Ian gripped Ignacio’s leg slightly above the ankle with both hands, gently but firmly. In one fluid motion he pulled the leg, gave the lower leg a slight twist to make it line up as much as possible and released. He felt the bones, cartilage and muscle adjust to their natural positions and orientations within the leg.
Ignacio screamed and passed out.
Ian knew from experience that once the leg was properly secured with an appropriate wrap, and with proper care, the leg could heal as good as new.
Ian tied the leg firmly to the plank, then had Jeremy assist with tying Ignacio to the other boards in preparation to hauling him up out of the hold. Ian tied a rope to the plank us
ed as a backboard. They tried their best to not hurt Ignacio any more than necessary, and he responded with a few groans, a couple of yelps, and passed out again. Ian climbed the ladder to the upper deck with the rope in hand. “I’m going to haul him up. Jeremy, keep him from bashing his leg against the ladder on the way out.”
“Aye sir.”
Ian hauled Ignacio out of the hold without incident. Once on deck, Ian laid the priest next to the girl he had hauled out of the hold earlier. While the priest rested, Ian focused his attention on the girl.
Desiree had raised the girl, Elisa, into sitting position. She had applied some of Ian’s salve to a cut on the girl’s face, and convinced her to eat some crackers with fresh water.
Ian carried the girl to the pirate captain’s cabin and found to his relief that the pirate captain and Pierre were gone. Desiree sponge bathed the girl and provided a change of clothes while Ian gave her a cursory physical examination. Just freshening up seemed to have buoyed up the girl’s spirit. Ian found no broken bones, but many bruises, and a few minor cuts. Whether the cuts were inflicted by her tormentors, or by other causes, Ian couldn’t determine. He applied the appropriate salves, ointments and bandages to speed her healing. Ian instructed Desiree to let the girl rest in the pirate captain’s cabin. He doubted the pirate captain would be returning.
Meanwhile, Louis had taken charge aboard the Rose Blanche while Ian, Jacques, Pierre, Serena, and Desiree remained aboard the pirate vessel with Pierre in charge.
Ian determined that the pirate ship was originally Greek. The pirates had removed the name and all identifying marks from the ship and destroyed the ship’s logs. The pirate captain had nailed the Greek captain’s last log entry onto the forecastle over the main hatch. The last entry read, ‘we are being boarded by a gang of cut throats bent on taking over our ship. God save us all.’ The date was torn but readable, June 9, 1100.
The Noble Mercenary Page 12
