Pirates and Peonies

6. Pirates!

© 2013, Chenille Whitehead. Except as provided by the Copyright Act 1956 no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher

6. Pirates!

"This is preposterous!" Cecily was astounded. "You cannot seriously be asking me to choose between working on this ship and my life!"

"The captain does not jest, lass. You must make your choice." McCorkindale shook his head at her in pity. Captain Montgomery was still staring out across the ocean, his gaze fixed resolutely on some point in the distance.

"What kind of barbarians are you?!"

"Oh haven't you guessed yet, princess?" Hardwell smirked.

"Guessed what!?"

The crew around her laughed. Their faces were becoming somehow less and less human and increasingly more terrifying. Cecily felt trapped and fear wrapped its tendrils around her neck. She made a choking sound, as if gasping for air. Who are these people? She felt like she already knew the answer, but the truth was so horrifying she couldn't bear to face it.

"We're PIRATES, of course!"

The sky was suddenly plunged into darkness as the last rays of the dying sun disappeared beyond the horizon. Cecily felt her legs buckle and she fell to her knees; all of her courage gone. She was on a pirate ship. She was going to die.

The crew were in an uproar, howling and cackling like the devil's spawn. Their faces looked even more terrifying in the light of the ship's lanterns; their shadows twisted and corrupted, flickering on the deck as if they had a life of their own.

Cecily curled herself up into a ball, trying desperately to shut them all out. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying. She prayed that they would all go away; that this was just another one of her nightmares and that soon she would wake up, safe in her bed. Safe in England.

"ENOUGH!" A strong, powerful voice erupted through the air, slicing through the laughter. The crew fell silent immediately. Cecily could feel them all retreating away from her.

Footsteps approached her, and she felt a hand touch her shoulder gently.

"Doctor Pike?" A voice called out from close to her ear. "I need you to take Miss Starling to the Infirmary." The voice was like velvet, soft and caring. The gentleman with the peonies? Cecily wondered, as she drifted off into unconsciousness.

****

Cecily opened her eyes and looked around her.

She appeared to be in a small operating room. On the shelves around her were an assortment of strange tools and jars of different sizes. "Bees wax", proclaimed one jar, "Leeches" another. Most of the other jars were labelled with the names of different plants in Latin. One was labelled 'Mortiferum solani' and had three crosses drawn on it with red wax. Deadly nightshade, she translated. Poison. What was poison doing on this ship? She wondered...Then she remembered. PIRATES!

Cecily was lying on her back on a hard wooden bench, which she assumed was the operating table; her head cushioned by a folded blanket. She swung her legs over the side and pulled herself up into a sitting position, almost collapsing right back down again. Her vision swam and it took her a while to gain back her focus, the dizziness refusing to subside. Her stomach growled, impatiently.

There was a knock at the door.

"Good mornin', Miss Starling," McCorkindale entered the room, without waiting for a reply. "Glad to see you're finally awake."

"It's morning?" Cecily looked out of the window, confused. All she could see was pitch black.

McCorkindale laughed, heartily.

"We're at the bottom of the ship, lass." He laughed again, wiping a tear from his eye with the back of his old, weathered hand. "What you be seein' is the deep blue sea."

Cecily started to laugh along with him, but it quickly turned into hysterical sobs. Fainting may have got her here, away from the crew, but it hadn't helped her escape. She was still going to die. Postponing her fate was all she had achieved.

"Now, now, lass. No more of those tears!" McCorkindale sat on the edge of the table next to her, and patted her hand. "We ain't all that bad!"

"But you're pirates!" she replied, burying her face in her palms. It didn't feel right letting the First Mate see her cry, even if he was a pirate. Her manners still seemed to prevail, despite the ludicrous situation that she was in.

"Yes, but that does'ny mean we are the devil's own. You should know by now that not everythin' you read and hear is true." He handed her a handkerchief. "In fact, I'm mighty offended by your hatred of us!" He joked, trying to coax a smile from her.

"But you would all see me walk the plank!" She howled, inconsolably.

"No we would'ny! We were just having a wee bit of fun with you, is all. Obviously you are going to choose to stay aboard as one of the crew."

"I won't!" she replied, stubbornly. "I'd rather die than be a pirate."

"Of course you would'ny! You would'ny want to waste your life like that."

"I would, too! I won't murder anyone, or aid you in any way!"

"Oh...you be fearin' for your soul?" McCorkindale looked like he had just solved a conundrum. "Don't you worry about that, lass. We wouldn't make a girl like you fight! We'd just have you do womanly things, like... clean...cook...that sort of thing. To you, this ship would be like any other ship, like one of the king's own!"

"You are PIRATES! No matter what I actually did, I'd still be a pirate, because I'd be working for you!" Cecily could see no way out of this. She was going to have to walk the plank. She would not be able to live with herself if someone died because of her.

"But, think about it!" McCorkindale refused to give up. "We'd sink the same number of ships, with or without you on this vessel. Your presence is'ny going to affect that in the slightest...and between you and me..." He quietened the tone of his voice into a mere whisper, looking towards the door. "More lives might be spared."

Cecily wiped away her tears. Maybe he was right. If she were to remain on the ship as a member of the crew she might be able to influence how many lives were lost. She could help prisoners that they captured by sneaking them food or volunteer to help the doctor and learn some basic medicine, so she could help the wounded. Maybe she could even sabotage their piracy in some subtle manner.

Cecily suddenly felt a new sense of purpose, and she regained her composure.

"I'll do it." She said, taking a deep breath. "I'll join the crew..."

"Good! I knew you'd come round, lass!" McCorkindale smiled at her, thinking that he had finally triumphed. "Now, I'm guessing that you'd be rather hungry?"

"Yes, actually," She smiled, trying her best to look more confident than she actually felt. "I'm absolutely ravenous!"

"Well let's go and visit cook, then, shall we?" He got up and strode towards the door. "I'm sure you are going to love it here, lass. You're going to be an excellent addition to the crew!"

Cecily got up and walked out of the room after him. She couldn't help but think he would come to regret those words.