Raised By Wolves 1 - Brethren (19 page)

“Not at all, my Lord, I have a spare room with a hammock for guests.

We can string another hammock or not as you prefer, though the one is kind of small for two men to actually sleep in.”

I was momentarily rendered speechless. In all my travels, I had never had a man, and a gentleman at that, assume I would share my bed with another: especially if they guessed my relative societal rank. On occasion, I might be expected to share a bed with a traveling companion in an inn, or while as a guest. Yet there had been something in Theodore’s delivery that seemed to indicate he thought we might do more than sleep.

“Well, then, a second will be required. I cannot imagine fitting two people in one except to…”

He did not blanch or flush at my words. He nodded agreeably. “My Lord, you would have to be fond of one another indeed to sleep in it after.”

He was implying what I thought he was. I hooked his arm and led him away from the others. “Fletcher is not my lover.”

“Oh, my apologies,… my Lord... I did not mean to presume.” He frowned, and we stood there awkwardly. “I am truly sorry,” he finally sputtered. “I was just assuming you were a buccaneer again.”

That remark, coupled with the name of the Chocolota Hole, visited upon me the realization that I may have landed in a town full of armed sodomites. I laughed.

“Are you implying that the buccaneers often take men as lovers?” I asked quietly.

“Aye, my Lord,” he hissed back with a pleasant nod. “More partners than lovers, really.”

“I may fit in quite nicely indeed, then.” I grinned.

He flushed and sighed, “Oh, my.”

“But that is not the nature of my relationship with that man, or any of these young gentlemen. And buccaneers aside, I would have your counsel on the perception of such activities by the other planters. When the time presents itself, of course.”

He appeared greatly relieved. “My Lord, there are a great many matters I would be delighted to offer counsel on, as to Port Royal and Jamaica. For the moment, suffice it to say that it is known and tolerated, but frowned upon outside of the port and amongst men of quality. As in, it is considered acceptable here, as it is in England, in situations of common boys and men under the duress of an insufficient number of women, but frowned upon in situations where a man has the wherewithal to marry and behave as God intended. So they all expect their bondsmen to do it, and sailors, but only as a matter of last recourse for men in desperate need of companionship. However, the buccaneers are different.”

“How so?”

“Perhaps…” He looked around. The boys were watching us expectantly.

“We should continue this elsewhere and later,” I agreed. “And thank you for speaking so frankly with me. I do not stand well on ceremony.”

Theodore smiled. “Thank God for that then, sir. I have been here so long I have forgotten how to behave appropriately around a man of your birth.”

“Please continue not to remember.”

“If it pleases you, my Lord. I will treat you as I do any other client I have.”

“It will please me greatly. Stop calling me ‘my Lord’. Call me Marsdale.”

“Marsdale it is, then.” He smiled.

I felt the Gods had led me home.

Wherein I Face A Decision

Fletcher and the boys followed Theodore’s Negro away from the wharf and down the main thoroughfare. I maneuvered to stay a little behind with Theodore, so that we might talk along the way. As we began to depart, Theodore was hailed from a ferry pulling up to the landing. I waved the others on as he stopped and greeted the disembarking men.

“Captain Bradley, Siegfried,” Theodore said with sincere cheer.

I regarded them curiously. Captain Bradley was of similar height to myself, though a bit thicker through the chest and wider of shoulder.

He also had me in the advantage of years: perhaps five, but maybe ten, if he carried them well. His hair was unruly and dark and he wore prominent sideburns, yet his beard was short and well-kempt. He was smoking a pipe. His eyes were warm, yet cunning, under heavy brows.

The man with him, Siegfried, was small, thin, and wily-looking with a sharp nose and black hair. He had a swarthiness that suggested him to be of Romany descent. Both were armed with multiple pistols and swords, and dressed in good hats, light coats, fine linen shirts, and woolen breeches; but they wore boots instead of hose and shoes. And they sported small gold hoops in their ears.

Theodore exchanged pleasantries with them for a moment; they had apparently been out to Bradley’s plantation, which I guessed Theodore had been involved in the legalities of. Then they turned to me.

“This is the Viscount of Marsdale,” Theodore announced proudly.

“And this is Captain Bradley and his matelot Siegfried.”

I was not familiar with the term matelot, and was not sure if I should ask for explanation.

The men looked me over. Bradley smiled widely as he offered his hand, but there was challenge in his eyes. “You look like you’ll do well here.”

“Thank you, Captain, I assume that is meant as a compliment.” I shook his hand heartily. He was the first man since England who had heard my title and yet not made any remark of it. However, as much as that pleased me, I did not feel he had done so because he did not care, but because he did not wish to acknowledge it.

Bradley laughed. “Just Bradley will do.”

Siegfried shook my hand without a word, but his eyes flicked over me, and I was sure they missed nothing. They held mine for a moment, with a hint of respect and sincere welcome.

“What brings you here?” Bradley asked.

“My father wants a plantation, and I found England to be as boring as it had been before I left it the first time.” I shrugged.

“So you’ve traveled then?”

“Yes, most of Christendom. I have lived in Italy, France, and Austria.”

“Austria? Do you perhaps speak German?” Siegfried asked in German.

“Ja, not as fluently as I would like,” I replied in the same language.

Theodore and Bradley blinked in surprise.

“Truly?” Bradley said in English. “You wouldn’t happen to speak Castilian, would ye?”

“Oh, aye,” I said in English, and then switched to Spanish. “I am probably more proficient in Spanish than German.” They all looked at me with incomprehension and I switched back to English. “I also speak French and Latin. None of you speak Castilian, I presume.”

“Nay, we do not.” Bradley grinned. “A man of languages, eh? Who has traveled and might know his way around a pistol and blade.”

Theodore threw himself bodily between us. “Nay. God no. We have business to attend to. Once that is completed, to my satisfaction, then you can haul him off somewhere and get him killed.”

“How long will that take?” Bradley asked with a teasing grin. “We’re sailing to catch the Galleons and the Flota in the week.”

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“The Captain here is one of the buccaneers who cleans up well,”

Theodore said wryly.

This seemed to amuse Bradley and Siegfried a great deal. I was more intrigued than amused.

“Are you seriously offering that I sail with you?” I asked.

Bradley nodded. “You would be welcome. If you cannot sail when we do, then there are other ships that could use a man who can speak Castilian and defend himself. It’s not an easy life and we don’t have officers like they do,” he indicated the merchant ships around us, and then studied me intently. “We’re all equals here.”

“I do not think being one of the men would trouble me at all, amongst a crew of equals.”

He nodded approvingly. “Our ship’s the North Wind and she’s anchored in the Hole. Any of the men on board would be able to find me, or I’ll be about town.”

“I will be staying with Theodore here. If all goes well I will consider looking you up before you sail. It has been a pleasure, sir.”

“Likewise.”

With that, we parted company. As we walked up the street, Theodore eyed me with consternation.

“Cease and desist,” I chided as I took in what there was to see. The street was wide and packed with a jumble of buildings, most containing shops in front and living quarters in the rear. There was a fish market and a multitude of taverns, near which I saw men dressed as the buccaneers on the Griffon had been.

Theodore led me down a narrow lane between a smithy and another block of houses.

“Your father implied you were a hearty man in his dispatch.”

I smirked. “I wonder exactly what he meant by that.”

“I took it to mean that you would survive and do well in a colony such as this.”

“Have you reformed that opinion?” I asked.

“Nay, it has been quite handily reinforced.”

“Were you ordered to be responsible for my behavior or me?” I inquired.

He shook his head and sighed. “Nay, I was not. I knew your father would send someone, but you are not what I expected. But by all rights I did not know what to expect.”

“You expected Dickey.”

This elicited another heavy sigh. “In truth I did. You most certainly will do well here, but… I would advise against roving, at least until you have seasoned.”

“Seasoned?”

“Become acclimated to the tropics for a time. Many men who come here die in the first six months.”

“I have heard that. But that could happen with or without roving, could it not?”

“Aye, but when I write your father, it would be better if I could tell him you were buried in the cemetery on the Palisadoes, and not that you were fed to sharks, enslaved on a Spanish plantation, hanging from a Spanish gibbet, or simply missing at sea.”

I gave serious weight to his words. I had been enthused beyond my expectations at the mere prospect of sailing with the buccaneers, and I wondered at myself. I had only just arrived, and I did wish to make good on my plan to do my father’s bidding and to care for my flock. Yet my heart betrayed me, jumping as it had at the first chance offered for adventure.

“In truth, I do not know if the life of a planter will appeal to me,” I said solemnly.

He nodded. “I can see that even now, and I have only just met you.

You are not a boy.”

I took this as a rebuke. In it, I heard the echo of Alonso’s words.

“Aye, I should have grown beyond such trivial pursuits. I should settle down and become a man and do my duty.”

He stopped and frowned. “Nay, sir, I only meant that you are old enough to keep your own counsel on such matters, and you have presumably seen enough of the world not to be led astray by foolish flights of fancy.”

“Thank you, I apologize. I was attributing someone else’s thoughts on the matter to you.”

“Your father’s, perhaps?”

“Nay, an old and dear friend who presumably abandoned adventure to take up the harness of family duty.”

“And you have tried to do the same and found it chafes?” he asked kindly.

I shrugged. “I feel I have not been harnessed yet. It is more as if I skitter around the paddock waiting for destiny to come to me, and now the fences seem ever closer and I hear the call of distant meadows.”

“Feral creature, are you then?” He smiled.

“I suppose I am.” At that, we saw Fletcher and the boys standing outside a small house, and we were obliged to rejoin them.

I say small house, but in reality it was an average dwelling as compared to its neighbors, being of two stories with a high roof. We took the brief tour of the place. There was a narrow path running between it and its neighbor, leading back to a yard with a cistern, where water was delivered as needed. There was a small brick cookhouse, well separate from the main building. There was also a latrine. The interior of the dwelling was composed of a front room that served as his office and general place of public business, a back room for dining and private entertaining, and two rooms upstairs: one his own sleeping quarters and the other for guests.

The Negro slave who led the boys here slept in the cookhouse. He was named Samuel, and apparently understood a good deal of English. I had never met a Negro slave, and I was curious concerning him, but he stayed out of sight as much as he could manage.

Theodore also had a bondswoman of middle age called Ella, who did his cooking and such and slept in a small room attached to the back of the house proper. She was round and fleshy in the extreme, with very unpleasant teeth and the overall demeanor of an angry cow.

Ella had not been set to expect anyone to return with Theodore, and she made quite a fuss bringing in sweetmeats and lemonade – or rather haranguing Samuel to do it, while she walked in circles, clucking about how lazy he was and however could she be expected to serve so many in such a small house. Theodore finally bade her leave and wait in the yard, and things were quieter.

We supped and chatted aimlessly for a bit, until I remembered an earlier question.

“What does mate lo mean?” I asked. “I am assuming it is French, but I do not recognize it.”

Theodore gave a small snort of amusement and spelled the word for me, adding the silent Gallic T at the end. “It means partner, at least amongst the Brethren of the Coast. Some have taken to using it to mean sailor, but that is not what it means here, except in a general sense. The English buccaneers have taken to referring to all the men they sail with as a shortening of the word, mates. They still use the full French, or perhaps it is Dutch, word for their partner. From my understanding, the original buccaneers on Hispaniola and Tortuga used the term.”

“Partner?” Dickey queried.

“In all things,” Theodore said with a glance my direction and a degree of discomfort.

“Oh,” I said as understanding dawned upon me. I recalled the details of my conversation with Bradley and his matelot, Siegfried, and I realized a number of subtle things. “Oh,” I said with more emphasis for my own benefit.

“The buccaneers take their matelots very seriously,” Theodore continued. “To them, all property held by one is held jointly, and all funds are shared. If one is to marry, they make arrangements as to whether the wife, too, will be shared, or sometimes they end up killing each other. If one dies, the other inherits. If the booty is great enough and a buccaneer loses his matelot while roving, the crew will often agree to give the survivor the dead man’s share as well. All of the buccaneers recognize the status of matelot as common law. Of course, without proper paperwork, none of that is recognized within English law.”