A Pirate's Wife

Chapter 5: Sails ahoy.

Finally, on Sunday afternoon of the second week, Rosa-Lee saw sails heading their way. Shading her eyes, she squinted as she watched the sails coming nearer to the shore at a tormenting slow rate. Rosa-Lee could now see that it was the Contra O Vento. The smaller frigate usually accompanied the merchant ship as extra security. It was faster and streamlined, not her father's bulky merchant ship.

Dread filled her heart as she watched the sailors running around on the deck, furling the sails to dock in the harbour. The ensign on the top of the main mast certainly was her father's crest. Cisco Almaida was a merchant working for the D.E.I.C. He received his first ship eighteen years ago after serving at the sea for nineteen years as a sailor. It was a reward for his bravery and leadership during that fatal voyage where her biological father had passed away along with two hundred and sixty-four crew members, slaves and passengers.

Gathering the cream fabric of her skirt in her hands she ran down the road to the harbour to meet the captain of the ship she recognized. She was hoping that it would be good news about her brother, but the sense of dread did not leave her small body as her chestnut hair streamed behind her, her small oval face wary and troubled.

The months of waiting in anticipation of Pedro had been too long. They stayed a close-knit family, especially Mother, Father and herself, but the two boys who had not yet had adventures did not understand the dangerous side of a sailing ship. It sounded foreign and distant to them, just stories they had heard all their lives. But Rosa-Lee and her parents knew how quickly things could change on the sea. They had lived through it and had survived its worst.

Pedro was still very young, inexperienced about life.

Rosa-Lee's dress whipped against her legs as she ran down the shoreline into the town, her lungs burning with the unusual exercise. Today she did not see the splendour of the sea or land, the birds flying just over the top of her head. She did not notice the familiar faces, townspeople who waved at her and flashed toothy smiles. With only the Contra O Vento coming in she was worried.

When she reached the berth, the captain stood on the bridge at the side, peering through the tackle works, deep in thought. As the plank lowered onto the pier, she had a sinking feeling that something was very wrong; that life as she knew it is about to change.

“Captain, any news?" she shouted.

Visible sorrow marked the older man's tanned face along with tired lines from hard days on the sea.

“Yes child, I have news, but it is not good news, I am afraid." With short, uneven steps he descended the plank. His normally immaculate dress was crinkled and filthy; a grey, unkept beard shadowed his thin cheek bones.

As he reached her, he swallowed, avoiding her at first, and then reached for her hands, his voice filled with sorrow.

“You will have to be very strong for your parents." He patted her hands as if to comfort her. “This news is not good. Come, let us go to them. I will speak to all of you." Panic gripped Rosa-Lee's heart.

What can be so terrible? She looked up at him. Captain Jean le Blanc was around her father's age with dark blue eyes and black hair, grey visible all around his head. Normally he was a very proud man, shoulders straight, his voice strong as a captain's should be. Now he walked as if he were in pain, sounding out of breath and speaking as if it gave him great pain to talk. Looping her hand in his arm, she walked next to him, supporting him. She tried to convince him to talk to her, to find out more detail but he was silent all the way.

As they walked away, dark ochre eyes framed in thick black lashes followed them with a curious fixation on the chestnut-coloured head of the young woman and the bodice of the cream dress clinging to her body, outlining it perfectly. The owner of the eyes squinted the left one as he framed the small waist in the air with his fingers, and thought, Perfect.

Jumping down off a barrel in one swift motion, he followed them at a slow pace. Staying in the shadows, he pulled his black hat low over his eyes and wrapped a heavy black cloak around his lean body to conceal any identifying features of his clothing. His silver sword sheathed alongside his narrow hip thudded against a knee-height black boot.

†††

As they walked to the castle Captain Jean's pace was slow, as if he had to think about each step he took, and he still sounded out of breath.

“Are you well, Captain?" Concerned, Rosa-Lee's dark brown eyes rested on him.

“Yes, dear, I will be fine once we reach your father's house." He gave her a sloppy smile.

“Can't I get the carriage? It will be more comfortable."

“No, dear, we are almost there. I am used to hardships. Don't worry about me." Patting her hand as she held onto him, the captain looked ghastly.

As they reached the castle, he hesitated to go through the heavy doors but continued, sweat pearling on his forehead, weaker from the walk, breathless and pale.

Finally, standing before her father, he handed him a letter. With shaking hands, he said,

“Cisco, my dear friend." He clipped every word, taking a breath between each. “I don't know how to give this news to you." Shame filled his countenance as Rosa-Lee squeezed his hand, and his smile at her was grim.

“I feel I have failed you, not only as a friend, but as an employee."

Cisco reached out to his friend, troubled sombreness on his face, taking the letter, first looking at the white, folded sheet, then back at his friend.

“Jean what is going on? Are you in pain? Come, sit down, my friend."

As her father helped Captain Jean sit down Rosa-Lee saw that blood seeped beneath his jacket from his upper leg and dripped onto the tiled floor.

“Father! The captain is wounded, look!" she cried out in distress, kneeling in front of him and spreading the jacket. His black pants were stained with blood, the metallic scent filling their noses.

Cisco put the letter down and reached him in one stride. He crouched next to Rosa-Lee, his towering body warm and reassuring and his voice steady.

“Let me look at that leg." his piercing eyes dropped first to his friend's leg then stared up at him.

“What has happened to you, Jean?"

“It is a long story, my friend. I don't know if I will be able to tell you. It hurts me too much. I have failed you, you and your family."

“How did you fail me, Jean? You don't make any sense. Calm down and tell us what is going on. Is it about Pedro? And where is Alfonso?"

“Yes, it is Pedro, and I hope he is still alive. When I left him at the Isle of Saint Marie, he was barely alive. Alfonso died trying to defend Pedro from being captured by the pirates."

They could hear the sharp intake of breath as Qonchita walked in. They all paled.

“What about Pedro and pirates?" She looked at Cisco, panic filling her dark brown eyes. “Cisco, what is going on?"

She looked at her husband and then at Jean, who was very pale, drops of blood forming a pool at his booted foot.

“Rosa-Lee, please send for the doctor at once, dear," said Qonchita. She stayed calm as she knelt before their friend.

“Yes, mother." Rosa-Lee rushed out the door and straight into the arms of Franco, their horse-handler.

“Franco, we need the doctor here at once! Please get him. There is no time to waste!"

“Yes, ma'am!" Franco's stallion stood nearby grazing. He was a dark brown colour with long legs, extremely fast, his muscles well defined, rippling under his shiny coat. When Franco called his name, his ears perked to full attention. With a whinny he was ready for action. Franco pulled himself-into the saddle with one hand. Horse and man moved as one as they race down the gravel road, dust swirling around them.