The Rapier

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

The hands of my first mate John Smythe were rough and callous, sharp enough to pull me from my dreams. I called for Elena, and was informed that she was placed under watch in the next room, and that the ship was no place for a lady like her.

"I used to be a lady like her, John," I reminded him with closed eyes. I didn't want to see him grimace.

"And you had most of it beat out of you, remember?" He added. "Is that what you want for the Countess?"

I shook my head, remembering the beating. "Is she hurt?"

"You're hurt, Capt'n," Smythe answered me sharply, smoothing down the whiskers of his beard nervously. "And if you want to keep control of this ship you'll focus on getting well enough to bark orders. Forget about the lass."

"Don't pirates settle down and get married, have children, live sedentary lives?" I asked him, ignoring his advice. The sting of the slap across my face was shocking.

"Don't let me catch you asking that again. Any of the boys hear Captain Remy is going soft and we will have a mutiny on our hands in seconds. Now snap out of it, and open your damn eyes, you lily livered land lover."

I peered up at him with a frown. His curses were always colorful. "Answer me, does it happen?"

"Pirates settle down when they're dead, " Smythe answered with half a grin. "And last I checked you were hairless and cockless. Marriage and children are out of the question."

I sighed and clutched my arm. It was time to get down to business. "How full is the hold?"

Smythe seemed pleased. "Fit to burst, Capt'n."

"Then set course for the Isles, and raise anchor," I ordered, planning to sell most of what my men had stolen. "If we make good time we can hit the Atlantic while the winds still in our favour."

Smythe nodded and made to leave. "Just one question, Capt'n," he turned with his hand on the door. "How'd you let a lady like that get the best of you, and with your fathers sword?"

"Love," I responded simply. Smythe left with a grimace and a curse under his breath.

I immediately went to the next room to see about Elena. She was asleep and unharmed, still wearing her oversized clothes, the front of her shirt open just wide enough to be indecent. She looked glorious, laying there with her hands at her head, the light from the moon shining through the polished sea glass windows of the cabin. The Fortuna had made room for this woman, offering her a perfect place amongst its sailors and soldiers, thieves and murderers.

I left her alone and climbed on deck, seeing Smythe at the helm, the Jolly Roger and red jack flying from the mast.

"Aye Capt'n Remy," the Quartermaster Mr. London shouted his greeting from above where he was tying off laniards. I nodded to him.

"Scourge of the seven seas," a lad half my age paid his compliments.

It was a beautiful day to be aboard the Fortuna, the rolling blue sea and white crested waves bearing us lightly away from the burning island of Tarsus, towards wilder waters. The ship was spotless, scrubbed and painted from top to bottom, fit with new sails, red and billowing in the sunlight.

Everywhere lads were climbing or kneeling, the deep throaty call of the midshipman a chorus I had sorely missed, the "look lively" and "tie off that tackle" music to ny ears.

I nodded to Smythe who seemed confident, and left the deck to my chambers in search of my rapier. I had weeks of practice ahead of me if I ever wanted to fight again, and wounded arm or not, I would need my sword.