Winds of Fate [Books I-III]

Chapter 129: The Gathering

All of Tortuga has turned out for today. People flock the streets of the market that it is hard to walk without accidentally elbowing someone, or stepping on someone's shit. A Gathering of the Brotherhood means festivities commence from morning to night, seemingly a vain attempt of the captains to distract themselves -- and the towndwellers who cannot know any better -- of the secrets and troubles they must discuss for themselves. And so, townspeople run to and fro to slaughter their animals, gather their grain and sugar, and safeguard their alcohol barrels.

Holding onto the Captain's arm, Eleanore cannot help but squirm and wonder at the same time. The whole spectacle reminds her of a tale Abuela retold to her, over and over, the festival of the Golden Calf, after Moses disappeared in the mountain to get God's command, and the people could only be bothered to make a god of their own, a god they can worship in their way -- bowing before a beast molded from their gold before drinking and whoring and reveling...

What changed? No lamentations need be said, however. The people of Tortuga aren't looking for salvation -- nor any god they'd submit to faithfully.

Soon, they left that scene, and the air is now cooler, the streets quieter -- disturbed every now and then by carts, tradesmen, and women going about their day. Only when they are up in the mountain pass, did they begin to converse again, as if they all collectively feared the many eyes and ears of the town below.

"Is that why they wanted this to be near noon?" She asks up at Anton, wiping sweat off her brow. "Because they'll party?!"

"Exactly."

"Dear God."

"They couldn't care less." Anton shrugs. "No one could care, unless one is a sitting captain, a spy, or a responsible pirate who would wisely attend and educate himself on the politics of these islands."

She squirms. He nods at her, then narrows his eyes, before adjusting her cocked hat to fit snugly on her head. "Oh!" Eleanore closes her eyes, and they all halt in fear. "No! I forgot to drop by Thierry's boutique to thank him--"

"Jesus Christ, Nel!" Aggy stares at her, eyes wide. "I nearly rolled over this damn cliff!"

"Oh..." Eleanore reddens in embarassment as she looks at their faces, and only Eugenie is mildly amused. "Sorry."

Aggy rolls her eyes at that. Before she even embarrasses herself further, Anton wraps an arm around her waist and turns her around so they can continue walking.

"Don't worry, Cap," Ben suddenly says from behind. "Craftsmen are out at this time."

"Out? Why?"

Anton raises a brow and glances over his shoulder.

Ben has tucked his hands in his trouser pockets. "Customers," he says with a careless shrug. "Supplies."

Beside him, Eugenie nods. "Yeah. The only one he could dress here are the... erm..." She winces, not wanting to say the word. "But the madames would say their girls don't need dresses anyway."

Her encouter with one such Madame sends her skin crawling. Wherever he is now, she does wish Thierry all the best. Eleanore sighs, all hot and sweaty and uncomfortable, even if she technically wears her plainest ensemble as a captain, the cloth between her thighs and all the malaise in her limbs making the situation all the more miserable.

Anton must have seen that scowl on her face because he wraps an arm around her just to press her shoulder in assurance.

"You never told me..."

"What?"

"You were a sitting captain before..." Eleanore sighs, tucking her hand in her pocket. "You saved Tortuga." She frowns. "But... why?"