Pirate's Treasure

Pirate's Treasure by Sarah Barimen

Roaring cannons, shouting men, and the shudder of the timbers told Miriam Van Vorce that the battle was going badly as she and her sister, Elena, clung together in their tiny cabin on board the English-flagged Gazelle. They could not contribute anything to the desperate struggle outside and overhead; all they could do was wait, praying that the captain and his men would prevail. They prayed, too, for enough sailors to be left alive when the battle was done to sail the ship on to its goal in the Islands, where Elena would meet the man to whom she was betrothed. There they would begin a new life far from England and everything they had ever known—if they could only get there.

Smoke came in through the wooden shutters on the tiny window. Elena whispered, “Oh, do you think the ship will burn? It mustn’t. Oh, it mustn’t. All our goods are below. My hope chest is down there, my trousseau, our clothing, everything!”

“Not everything,” Miriam whispered. “Our gold is here, remember? Papa told us we must never leave it alone even a second, nor trust it to the captain.”

“But it is pirates out there, Miri,” whispered Elena.

“It is surely pirates, Ellie,” Miriam said, “but we aren’t lost, yet. Our captain’s men may win. The smoke may be from the cannons. Or they may be able to put it out. We are surrounded by water after all.”

“I cannot swim. You cannot swim.” Then she voiced the fear that she and Miriam both felt equally. “Perhaps it would be better to drown than to be taken by pirates. Or take the little daggers Papa gave us and die pure.”

“No, Elena. They will ransom us, surely. Pirates want gold above all. Papa has very little—you know he has sent most of what he had, for your dowry. But your betrothed has wealth enough, or his father does. If we tell them who we are, that may be our salvation.”

“Maybe our captain’s men will win,” Elena said in a small voice. But the smell of smoke grew stronger, making them cough. Miriam got up and paced nervously, while Elena huddled herself even smaller on the narrow berth.

Suddenly came a violent hammering on the cabin door. “Come out, whoever is inside,” called a man’s rough voice. “Unless you fancy going down with the ship. The crew is dead to a man. Come out, I say.”

Elena squealed then clapped her fingers over her mouth too late. The man had heard her. The door shuddered under several heavy blows, while Miriam retreated to the berth with Elena. Then a man wearing a pirate’s motley collection of cast-off clothing, much-worn and patched, and stained with food, old blood, and tar b, withroke the door down and stumbled into the room. His eyes lit up when he saw the two.

“Women. I say.” Turning to the doorway, he called, “Captain, I got us some real treasure. Two women. Bring ’em?”

A dark-haired, blue-eyed man appeared in the doorway of the cabin a moment later, gave them no more than a cursory glance, and said, “Good afternoon, ladies. I’m Captain Bartolo of the Serpent. You’ll come along with us now and give us no trouble. The crew of this ship is dead, and the ship is aflame.” He turned on his heel and strode away, through swirls of smoke, clearly expecting them to follow. With a glance at the fellow who had discovered them, who seemed both ready and able to enforce his captain’s wishes, they followed.

Elena said to Miriam, “But what about our clothes and…things below?” She lowered her voice. “And the gold?”

The pirate behind them barked out, “Gold? What gold?”

“Nothing!” Miriam said and hurried along faster. But she did not know whether he believed her or stayed to ransack the cabin even with the ship afire, because another pirate met them just then, took each of them by the arm, and pressed them hurriedly along the rail.

Elena cried, “Oh, it’s too horrible!” when they came to the place where the ships were tied together, jostling on the waves. But the man urged them onward through the choking, tar-laden smoke. Several of the Serpent’s crew handed them across with surprising care, and they were guided to the captain’s quarters. He was seated at a tiny table, waiting for them.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Miriam said, trying very hard to look stern, “Captain, I am Miriam Van Vorce. This is my sister, Elena. I expect you will provide my sister and me with a private cabin and deliver us safely to the island of San Domingo. She is betrothed to Mathis de Witt, son of the governor there, and I am her chaperone. I am certain you will receive any ransom you ask in exchange for our safe delivery.”

Captain Bartolo smiled quietly. “Give you a private cabin? And why, pray tell, should I do that?”

“Because that is the way it is done.”

“Miss, if I cared at all for the way things are done, I wouldn’t be what I am or do what I do.”

Miriam did not know how to answer that. So she just stared at him while he stared back, smiling his inscrutable smile. She looked away first.

He steepled his fingers together, touching the pointers against his chin. “Let me explain a few important things to you. The trip to San Domingo may take weeks if the winds are against us. You are under my protection until we arrive at San Domingo and the ransom process is completed. You will be best served if you remain here inside my cabin for the duration. I promise you I will do you no harm. Damaged goods are not worth the asking price, and I like to get as much as possible in these transactions.”

Elena had gone very pale. “But I cannot bear to be shut up in a small space at all. I shall never be able to bear it for weeks on end.”

The captain turned an implacable expression on her. “For you to be worth your ransom, you must overcome that fear. Ransom is a desirable thing. But that is not the only value to be had from you. I repeat, I will do you no harm, but I cannot make that promise for my men. They would not stop until each of them had exhausted himself in you. They have not seen many women recently.” He looked thoughtful. “Also worth considering. You might not be alive when they were done. Even if you were, some of the men have picked up uncomfortable…conditions from the women in the islands.” He laced his fingers together. “So now you understand.”

Miriam flushed and said nothing. Elena merely looked pale.

“I suppose you do have another choice,” the captain said. “You could escape this cabin and throw yourselves over the side of my ship. Assuming you managed it and were not caught by the men, nor plucked out of the water like a fish…” He pursed his lips. “…you might be drowned in a few minutes. You might die sooner, if there are sharks in the area. But then, of course, there would be no safe arrival at San Doming, with Miss Elena a sweet virginal ransomed woman, and Miriam her accompanying and honorable sister-chaperone.”

A voice called outside the door, and the captain turned.

“Again, I suggest you stay inside the cabin. There’s a pot under the bed for necessaries. Food and drink will be brought to you. I’ll come in when I have time. Now I have work to do.” He went out and shut the door behind him.

Elena whispered, “If they had not burned the ship and sunk it, we might have had our gold and bought our safe passage ourselves.”

“Or perhaps they have simply stolen it—we don’t know they didn’t, Elena—and ransomed us anyway. We still don’t know he will go through with the ransom. It can’t be safe for a pirate to arrange one. If the negotiations fail and they are caught, they are always hanged. I wonder if he really has any incentive to protect us from his men.”

“He said he does. He’ll get more ransom that way.”

“That’s what he says, yes. But what if….”

“Shh. Don’t think about it. We shall simply have to stay here and pray for the winds to favor us. What else can we do?” Elena moved over and sat in one of the chairs at the tiny wooden table. She sat stiff-backed and proper, the way she always sat. Miriam, however, sat slumped on the single berth, thinking that there must be some way to put the captain truly on their side, some way to ensure Elena’s safe delivery to her betrothed.

Captain Bartolo came in sometime later with a meal of hardtack, salt meat, and a pair of flagons in hand. He found the two sisters sitting separately, silent. He looked from one to the other, amused. “Are either of you hungry? No? Eat anyway. You have to keep your strength up, Miss Elena. We can’t have the governor saying we treated you badly, can we? “

“Right,” Miriam said, standing up. ‘I’ll eat. Elena, you must eat also.”

“I’m sure I cannot eat a bite of that,” Elena said. And then, fastidiously, “What is it, anyway? It looks like pasteboard. I shan’t be able to get it down at all.”

“It’s called sea biscuit. You soak it in beer,” said Bartolo with more patience than he felt the question deserved. “…and when it has softened a bit, you can eat it. You’re lucky. These pieces don’t have weevils in them. Most of them do.” He followed this statement with an evil grin, which widened when Elena recoiled.

“I won’t eat it!” Elena declared. “It will make me sick. Surely you have better fare?”

“We have what we have, miss. Your betrothed will understand this, living as he does on an island. That is, if he’s anything more than an indolent brat. He’ll know what life is like on the seas. After a few months at sea, everything spoils or gets full of worms, that’s just the way it is. This is what we eat, and it’s all we have to offer at the moment. Aren’t you glad we’ll come in sight of San Domingo soon enough?”

Elena smiled a little, though it was more of a grimace. “Yes. I’m grateful.” But still, she did not reach for the flagon of beer.

Bartolo, for his part, was richly amused, still standing by the door.

With a huff of disgust, Miriam moved over to the captain. She took one flagon, one of the flat biscuits, and a piece of dried beef. She murmured, “If you would, Captain, put those on the table. My sister will take them up when she feels hungry.”

“As you will,” he said. “I’ll give you a while to eat. Expect me in again later.” He put the food on the table and left.

Elena didn’t move to take the food, but Miriam broke her biscuit into several pieces and dipped a portion into her beer. Then she nibbled. But it was too dry, so she dipped it several more times. She dipped other pieces also, leaving them to soak. And while she waited to eat, her gaze strayed to the door often. The next time she tested her biscuit, it was softened enough to eat. The flavor was bland, just beer and flour, but it was food and, she told herself, at least it didn’t have worms in it, though she examined it closely.

Elena watched her but did not eat.

One wall of the small cabin had a little window with wooden shutters on it. After a time, Elena got up and threw open the shutters, letting in some light and fresh air. She stood by the window and peered out anxiously, though there was nothing to see but the cloud-scattered sky and the curved back of the ocean upon which the ship sailed.

One of the pirates saw her as he passed by and leered in, causing Elena to recoil in horror. Then he went away. But he came back again, and soon there were three men looking in at them as a starving dog might look at a piece of meat, whispering vile suggestions and glancing over their shoulders in case the captain or first mate should catch them. Elena closed the shutters and retreated to the table, where she sat stiff-backed as before, but with her arms wrapped around herself for comfort.

Miriam went back to sit on the berth after she had finished the beer and bread. She said, “Elena, I am going to make a bargain with the captain for your safe delivery.”

“A bargain?” Elena said, looking over.

“My virtue in exchange for an absolute guarantee of yours.”

Elena looked horrified, as Miriam knew she would. “Oh. You mustn’t.”

“Why mustn’t I? You are the important one. You are the one going to be married.”

“But you will be a ruined woman! You will be shamed!”

“How? Who will ever know? I won’t tell anyone. You won’t tell anyone.”

“But if you ever marry, your husband will know, won’t he? Don’t men…ah…know these things?”

“If you mean the bleeding on the wedding night, there are ways to make them believe it true. It doesn’t matter for me. I doubt I will ever marry. But if you...if you were to be ruined on this trip, then it would be a disaster for both of us. You must be kept pure for Mathis de Witt.”

Elena bit her lip. “I do not see how I can stop you, but if you will do it, you will do it against my wishes. I know what Papa would say, too, if I could ever dare to bring such a thing up with him.”

“Papa told me to look out for you, even though I am the younger. I am obeying him.”

“If he—if you—if he, oh, Miriam dear, where shall I go while you are…” Elena could not bring herself to say the word. “…with him?”

“You will have to stay here. You cannot go out. He already made it clear how dangerous it would be for either of us out there.”

Elena grimaced but nodded. “If you can be strong enough, then I can be strong enough.”

“Then I will ask him when he comes in.”