I had once read in a book that Edward Teach, also known as Blackbeard, had been the most successful, ruthless and fearsome pirate in all of history. The book was wrong.
The most fearsome pirate in history did not have a beard, black or otherwise. Not even after weeks spent shipwrecked on a deserted island. Oh no. Somehow, he had managed to keep his chiselled chin pristinely clean-shaven. His hair had grown a little longer, strands of black falling into his icy eyes, but somehow, it only made him look irresistible than before.
"Aboard, men!" Rikkard Ambrose roared, stabbing his sabre into the air. "Aboard! We have a new target! We have new loot to claim! Onward!"
A thunderous cheer erupted from the pirates spread out all over the beach. Their numbers had grown considerably during the past few weeks. Repeated raids on all kinds of ships, many of which were transporting slaves to various colonies, had seen the ranks of his crew expand explosively. Suffice it to say that Captain Rockface was very popular.
Except with the Navy. They didn't like him at all for some reason.
"Board the ship and raise the anchor!" Leaping from his impromptu podium made of barrels, Mr Ambrose gestured for his minions to go ahead. "I'll be with you in a moment, and we shall sail to victory!"
"Aye aye, Captain Rockface!" the crowd roared, followed by another round of cheers.
None of the pirates noticed a muscle in Mr Ambrose's cheek twitching ever so slightly at the mention of the name. With a last nod at his men, my husband strode over to my side and leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Captain Rockface? Really?"
I tried not to smirk. I really did. I failed utterly. "Well, someone had to come up with a name for you. Or would you have preferred for the Royal Navy to hunt Captain Rikkard Ambrose? I'm sure Queen Victoria would have loved to hear how her wedding guest took up piracy."
Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Mr Ambrose's little finger twitch. "That would have been...displeasing."
"I sense a 'but' there."
His icy eyes bored into me. "Rockface? Captain Rockface?"
"I've got spiffing naming sense, haven't I?"
"Indeed." He lowered his voice, eyes narrowing dangerously. "A naming sense I very much hope you will further improve before the time comes to christen our child."
"Oh, don't you worry." I patted his shoulder. "I've already got the perfect name in mind."
"Why do I suddenly feel dread?"
"Because you are about to embark on a dangerous pirate raid?" I gave him another pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll be fine."
"Why, thank you so much for your concern, Mr Linton. I am certain you shall be fine as well." And, turning back to the pirates, who were busy boarding the ship, he called out: "Everyone! Our cook has agreed to prepare a fabulous feast for our return! And he'll do it all on his own!"
This time, the cheer that went up from the crowd was three times as loud. Before I could get out so much as a word of protest, he was already fifteen feet away, climbing into the dinghy that would take him to the ship.
"Farewell!" Raising his hand, he gave me a little wave. "Enjoy the cooking, Freddy!"
And he was gone.
Son of a...!
He was going to pay for this. He definitely would. Even if I would have to pry the money from his cold, dead hands.
"Ha, Freddy!" A hand clapped down on my shoulder, and, glancing around, I spotted Jackal, who had stayed behind after taking part in three successive raids. "Seems like you'll have plenty of opportunities to practice your amazing cooking skills! Great, isn't it?"
"Oh yes. I can hardly contain my joy."
"Aye, I know how you feel! I love my job, too!"
"Your job being blowing up ships and stealing other people's hard-earned money."
He beamed. "Exactly!"
"I see. Well..."
"Yes?"
I gave him an innocent smile. "Seeing as you will be eating the food, too, would you mind helping me search for ingredients? I don't exactly know where to find fresh fruit and herbs on this island."
"No problem!"
"Oh, and..."
"Yes?"
"If there are any herbs that taste horrible, or stuff that would make one vomit or something like that, do point it out, will you? I plan to prepare something special for our beloved captain, and I wouldn't want to make him sick by mistake, would I?"
"Of course not! Come along, I'll make sure to point out anything like that."
"Good! Very good! Mwahahahaha!"
"Why are you laughing?"
"Ehem...no reason. No reason at all."
***
"All right...a bit of this, and a bit of that..."
Humming to myself, I dropped mashed banana into the pot—followed by a mashed banana peel. It was an edible fruit, right? It was followed by some garlic, herbs of all shapes and colours, and...what was that?
Hm, I guess I'd find out when Mr Ambrose did the tasting for me. My oh my! I'd never known cooking could be this fun! I should have tried it earlier!
Of course, the amount of fun might be related to the lack of recipes or actual work involved. Freestyle cooking for the win!
"Give it to me!" Polly chose that moment to announce. "Croak! Give it to me!"
"Oh, really?" Cocking an eyebrow, I pointed at the boiling contents of the pot that, for containing only relatively mundane ingredients, manages to have a strong resemblance to a witch's brew. "Are you sure you want some?"
The parrot stared at the pot for a long moment—then turned its beak away. "Polly wants a cookie! Polly wants a cookie!"
"Thought so."
With a grin, I turned back to work / wifely duty / tastebud-torture. After fifteen more minutes or so of creative culinary heresy, I finally could not find anything else to put into the pot, or at least not anything that wouldn't risk improving the content's taste. Thus, I reluctantly put my pot of pestilence aside and reluctantly turned to the second, much larger, pot. The one reserved for the food meant for the crew.
With a sigh, I felt my shoulders slump.
Seems like it was time to do some actual cooking.
Five minutes later...
Ugh! How could I ever have thought that a diabolical torture like cooking could ever be fun? This is excruciating.
Most especially in my current outfit. God, if I'd known that wearing trousers and men's shirts would be so uncomfortable while pregnant, I would never have agreed to follow my dear husband's inane plane! Never mind that said inane plan had actually worked so far. That was completely irrelevant compared to how this bloody pair of trousers chafed against my stomach!
"Goddamn cross-dressing! Why did I ever think this was a good idea?"
Because, a few years ago, you thought pigs would fly before you would get pregnant?
Shut up, inner voice! Stop sounding so darn reasonable!
"I should never have agreed to join this infernal pirate crew! A pregnant girl dressing in men's clothes slaving away as the ship's cook on a pirate ship? Why did I ever think this was a good idea? Why did I—"
Just then, I heard a crunching sound from the entrance of the tent and quickly shut up. Some more footsteps on sand followed, and then, a familiar boy stuck his head into the tent. The boy whose name, I realized just then, I still hadn't asked for.
"Hello there."
"Um...hello." Waving at the little fellow, I scratched the back of my head. "I just realized...I never got to ask for your name."
"No problem." The boy chuckled. "Ain't as if we met during a nice picnic on the beach. The name's Le—ehem, Liam. Yes, Liam."
"Victor." With a smile, I gave the little fellow a nod. "Victor Linton. Nice to make your acquaintance."
"Err...yours, too."
"Great! Now, any particular reason you're here? Or did you just come to provide a very welcome break from cooking?"
"Nah. Jackal told me you were looking for some more fruits and herbs." Lifting the basket he had been carrying, Liam held it out towards me. "I'm supposed to bring them to you."
"Oh my!" A wicked smile spread across my face and I snatched the basket immediately. "Thank you so much!"
Then I cautiously lifted the cloth covering the basket—and a pungent smell spread throughout the tent.
"Eeew!" Liam pulled a face, jumping back. "What are you planning to make out of that? Rat poison?"
"Something like that," I cheerfully agreed. Then, without bothering to check the exact contents of the basket, I sidled over to the smaller of the two pots in the tent and dumped everything inside. "Hahaha! Mwhahahaha!"
Liam took a step back, eyeing me apprehensively for some reason.
"Um...I'll be going then."
"Don't you want something to eat for the way?"
The boy eyed the smaller of the two pots, which by now was making strange noises and expelling fumes in all colours of the rainbow. "Um...thanks, but no thanks." Turning away, he started towards the exit. "I think I'd better just—"
"Squawk! Girl!" a familiar, rasping voice chose this moment to interrupt. "Girl dressing up in men's clothes!"
I froze. Then, very, very slowly, I turned around to send a death-glare at a certain parrot.
Thank you, I mouthed. Thank you so much.
I swear that bloody bird looked smug! As soon as I found a way to get that cage open, I would have roasted parrot for dinner. Hurriedly, I turned to Liam to see if he had noticed anything, if he had heard the bloody bird and realized what was going on. I was expecting him to stare at me with wide open eyes, filled with shock. Instead, he was staring at the...parrot? Fearfully?
What, was he afraid of birds or something?
Well, that was weird. But leagues better than him suspecting my true identity.
"Ha, ha," I said, somewhat forcefully. "Parrots say the weirdest things sometimes, right?"
"A-aye." Liam gave a shaky nod. "The strangest things."
"Are you all right? You don't look so good."
"A-aye. I'm fine. Perfectly fine."
Then he whirled around and fled the tent, his face ashen.
Odd.
Shrugging, I turned away from the tent flap he had disappeared through and back towards the big, bubbling pot. Oh, well. Time to get back to work.
Several hours and lots of sweat and elbow grease later, I stepped back from the piles of bread I had just sliced. Now the only thing that was missing were the toppings, and everything would be ready for—
"Ships ahoy!" Came an excited shout from outside. "Ships ahoy! They're coming back!"
And just in time, too, apparently. I couldn't suppress the smile that slowly spread across my face. Excellent! My eyes swivelled to the bubbling little pot with my special surprise for today. Time to do my duty as a housewife and serve my loving husband dinner.
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My dear Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen,
Any guesses what could possibly be the matter with Liam? ;) A virtual cookie for anyone who guesses correctly!
Yours Truly
Sir Rob