Raised By Wolves 1 - Brethren (31 page)

I had also not been sure of his reception. I discovered why he dislikes me. He discovered that I had changed. We have a new respect for one another. He sent me here.”

“You are twenty-six?” he asked.

“Oui, and you?”

“Twenty-seven.”

I nodded. “As I thought. We are of an age.”

“So what would you tell him if you did wish to gain his friendship?”

he asked.

“The interesting points and my observations of my adventure so far.

The people I have met and the things I have done.”

He grinned. “That may not be wise to commit to paper, even if it would be well received.”

“You see my problem. And I have little interest in writing a dry report of the acquisition of the plantation and such things, because if that is all I am allowed to speak with him of I might as well not know him at all.”

“So write the truth, but couch it in such a manner as to be open to interpretation.”

I was amused at the prospect; and I wrote a brief but thorough report of my adventures thus far in the West Indies, saying what I could and implying the rest. Gaston read the pages as I finished; and he was quite amused, and deemed it a work my father would surely take great interest in. Though he disliked the glowing terms I used to describe my acquaintance with him.

“And how do you feel your father will interpret this?” He read, “I have been extremely fortunate to make the acquaintance of a fine man of my own age, who hails from a family similar to my own and possesses an abundance of education, intelligence, and skill, and who I feel shall make a fine companion in my future adventures.”

“He will think we are lovers.” I smirked. “And he will be in good company, as this is what everyone in Port Royal seems to think.”

He blushed, and I regretted my flippancy.

“I am sorry. I do not mean to cause you…”

He shook his head. “It does not need to be discussed.”

I bit my lip and held in the sigh, as on the one hand I most certainly did wish to discuss it and on the other I feared the outcome of such a discussion. “Of course not. The opinion of others is of little import.”

He studied me for a long moment. “I am used to others entertaining conjecture about my person. I give them little real knowledge, and men are drawn to anything that smells of enigma. Our newly-acquired friendship waves a whole bouquet under their noses, and I must learn to accept that.”

“Would you prefer we adopt the stance of actively dispelling any rumor or insinuation upon hearing it?”

“Non, that will just make things worse. Let them think as they will.

In some ways it may serve to our advantage. So are we finished here?”

I decided not to inquire further, and hoped the other advantages would make themselves clear to me, as he was surely not inclined to explain them. “Non, I have two other letters to England; both will be much as the first. And I would leave a note for Fletcher and the boys.”

“Who is Fletcher?”

I explained my relationship with Fletcher while I wrote the man.

“You are a philanthropist.” Gaston smiled as if it were not a bad thing.

He waited patiently while I wrote to Sarah and Rucker. I wished I had time to compose a true compendium of my observations for my old tutor, but it would have to wait. I wondered if I should take paper and ink with me on my travels, but I knew I would not take the time to write unless forced. The missive to Sarah was to the point, and merely said that I was feeling much better about the world now that I was here and I hoped all was well with her. I also mentioned that I had enjoyed getting to know her as a young woman and I looked forward to seeing her again someday.

Gaston was still dusting the pages for me and then folding and sealing them. He had taken interest in examining my signature and seal, and I hoped he would not begin to call me by my title.

“Who is this Mister Rucker?” he asked.

“My tutor. He is far more responsible for who I am than my father.”

He smiled. “So we now know who to thank.”

I elbowed him and wrote a quick note to Tom.

“And this?” he asked as he read it.

“One of the boys I sailed with.” I grinned.

“Ah,” he said and read Sarah’s letter. “And this is your sister?”

“Aye. She is seventeen and… I know her little, but wish I had known her more as she matured,” I said without looking at him.

When I finished the notes, he was still staring at Sarah’s letter. His expression was odd, and I could not discern the emotion behind it.

“Is something amiss?” I asked.

He shook himself as if waking from reverie, and sighed. “Non.” He quickly folded her letter and sealed it.

“Do you have family that you miss?” I asked.

He took a deep breath as he regarded me. “Oui.”

“Do you…?”

“No more, Will.” He stood and left the room.

I stifled my curiosity and reasoned it into submission. I would either learn his secrets in the fullness of time or I would not. I arranged the letters in bundles, one for England and the other for Jamaica, and followed him out the back door. We found Theodore in the yard sitting on the cistern. I wondered at this until I felt the relative coolness of the breeze.

“You should put chairs out here,” I noted.

“Aye, I consider it and then forget it until the next time.”

“You should task Ella with it.”

“I doubt her ability to choose a comfortable chair. Are you finished?”

“Six pages, signed and sealed.”

“I’ll put it on the first ship out. Which would have been the King’s Hope, but alas.”

I remembered someone else I should write, and hurried back inside to compose a note to Belfry. When I returned to the yard I said, “I have also left a note and some coin for Mister Belfry. He was second officer of the King’s Hope. I wish I could provide him with more, as he is now without a job. I hope we will take a good deal of Spanish gold, as I have much I need to do with it.”

Theodore frowned. “Damn, Marsdale, a man is truly blessed to make your acquaintance.”

I grinned. “Not always. Have you heard any news concerning the ship?”

He shrugged. “Five died, and the captain is bankrupt and stranded.”

“As I said, not always.”

He nodded soberly. “You are akin to some curious angel who metes out justice as you see fit, are you not?”

“I would suppose that describes me.” I grinned.

He nodded solemnly, and embraced me as if we had known one another years and not days. “May God protect you.”

“And you. Fear not, or fear, I will return.”

He chuckled. I availed myself of the latrine and received more boiled water from Samuel, and then we gathered our things.

When we reached the street, Gaston said in French, “I may be embarrassed that others consider me to have a lover, but I am honored that it is you.” I forced myself not to embrace him.

The sun was setting as we approached the Chocolata Hole. I shaded my eyes and peered across the small bay, at what would be my new home for the next several months. The North Wind was a silhouette against the sunset. The distant, glowing clouds and the gold water reminded me of the Arno on that night which now seemed an eternity ago. How long had it been since I left Florence? Seven months?

The North Wind was a sloop maybe threescore feet in length. She carried eight cannon. The single cabin we had visited last night was set low, so that her quarterdeck was only a yard or so above the main deck.

Her draft was shallow and her canvas large for her size. Gaston told me he had heard she was very fast. She was a sleek vessel built to carry men and not cargo about the seas.

And tonight her deck was filled with men. We had heard the music before reaching the bay. There was a pipe and lute and drums and a deep rhythmic thumping that indicated dancing. All the men closest to the low gunwale had their backs to us as we came alongside, and I imagined the center deck had become a dance floor. We climbed aboard and shouldered our way into the crowd, to discover the spectacle of Pete and Striker dancing a jig. Their timing and precision were excellent, and it was obvious they had done this many times before. When the tune finished, Pete dove on Striker, bowling him over so they rolled down the deck laughing. More men took their place as the musicians began the next song.

Gaston and I made our way toward the panting and still laughing pair. They were kissing deeply when we reached them, and there was a stirring in my groin at the sight of it. Striker broke it off to look up at us with a grin. “You visiting or sailing?”

“Sailing.”

Pete bounded up and his blue eyes flashed over my new attire and earrings. He guffawed. “Look At Ya. I Dare’Em Ta Call Ya’ A Lord.”

“Dare or no, I would rather they did not,” I said. “In truth, I would rather keep that bit of my identity hidden.”

Striker was still lounging on the deck. “But I like calling you Lord Will.”Pete kicked at him playfully. “Be Nice!”

Striker attempted to sweep his partner’s legs out from under him, but Pete leapt up and spun in the air to land a good three feet away.

“Gettin’ Slow!”

I was in awe. The only time I had seen an athletic feat like it was at a carnival performance.

“How do you do that?” I asked.

The Golden One shrugged and gave me a teasing grin. “Ya Can’t?”

“I do not know. It seems baffling to me. The only time I turned in the air in that fashion I was falling out a window.”

“Ya Land On Yar Feet?”

“Nay, I landed in rose bushes. Somewhat on my back, I think.”

“Why’dYa Jump Out A Window?”

“I had just been shot in the arse. And the fellow was not alone, and his manservant had a musket and not a pistol. I feared he might have been able to aim at least as well as his master.”

There were several others standing around us now, including Bradley and Siegfried.

“Why did the man shoot you?” Bradley asked with great amusement.

I gave them a sheepish shrug, as I had not intended to get that far into the tale. “I had just bedded his wife, a delightful young lady who was truly wasted on a man of his years.”

Loud guffaws rang through the night.

“You got shot in the arse and dove out a window into rose bushes?

How far?” Bradley asked, as if he doubted the veracity of my tale, no matter how amusing it may be.

“I have the scar, if you wish to see it. I fell possibly ten or twelve feet, as I was on the second story. However, the roses were on a sort of mound, I think, so the distance was lessened somewhat. I do not recommend it. Thankfully I was clutching my clothing in front of my most treasured areas, and the body tends to roll into a ball upon falling.

I was also lucky the bushes were mature – and had sufficient depth to hide my location from the window above, once I sank completely into them. My howls of pain and cursing alerted my companions, and they pulled me clear of the tangle and away. Mercifully I do not remember much of that part of the evening. Yet I do have the very distinct memory of spinning through the air as I fell. That seemed to occur very slowly.”

My audience was laughing uproariously, except for Gaston, Bradley, and Pete. My companion was indeed amused, and I think the reason he was not laughing with the same gusto as the others lay in the fact that he was not drunk and he never did anything loudly or with abandon.

I think Bradley was not as amused because he still doubted me. Pete was a mystery, though, until he pulled me aside and asked quietly,

“Ya Bed Women?” He truly seemed aghast over this.

I shrugged. “Aye, when the opportunity arises and they are sufficiently comely to arouse my interest.”

“Ya Bed Men Though?”

“Aye, when the opportunity arises and they are sufficiently comely to arouse my interest,” I repeated with amusement.

“Which Ya Prefer?”

“Men,” I assured him.

He seemed relieved, and I wondered why he cared; but Bradley had joined us.

“May I have a moment with Marsdale?” he asked Pete.

The Golden One frowned before shrugging and leaving us.

“I am going by the name of Will amongst the Brethren,” I told Bradley.

“Ah, I will not name you otherwise then. I am sorry.”

“You did not know. And Pete has heard my title before.” I regarded Bradley curiously and waited for him to speak.

“You’re a man of surprises,” he finally said.

“In what way?” I asked.

“Why is he here?” His glance indicated Gaston.

“He is with me.”

“But your tale would seem to indicate…”

I cut his words with a shake of my head and a jaunty grin. “I swear I have been subjected to more conjecture in this place than in the courts of several kingdoms.”

He rolled his eyes. “I apologize. Do you trust him?”

“Obviously.”

“What do you know of him?”

“A great many things. What do you wish to know that I know?

About his madness?”

Bradley sighed. “So you are aware.”

“Aye, will this prove an impediment to our sailing with you?”

“When we spoke last I was not aware…”

“Neither was I. And you have not answered my question, sir.”

He smiled. “Nay, he is more of a known evil than you.”

I cocked my head and smiled. “I am not sure how to interpret that.”

He shrugged. “You may be more than I bargained on.”

“I am often that. Why do you think my father sent me here?”

Bradley laughed. “I’m beginning to understand.”

He returned to the crowd; and for a moment I stood relatively alone, where I had ended up on the quarterdeck. I was beginning to wonder what I had walked into.

Gaston joined me with his arms crossed and strangely timid look about him.

“Am I welcome?” he asked.

“Aye, with some reluctance.”

He sighed heavily and looked away. “What must you think?”

“That you must be a holy terror when it grips you.”

He seemed to draw in on himself. I threw caution to the wind and draped my arm across his shoulders.

“We will endure and…. Conquer,” I said. He regarded me as if I were mad, and I grinned like a fool.

Pete and Striker joined us.