Raised By Wolves 1 - Brethren (35 page)

I was surprised, as he had not been there when I turned my head. I decided to change the subject, and addressed Bradley and Striker. “Thank you both for confirming that I had a matelot,” I said sarcastically. They laughed. “Perhaps we would have preferred the banns published a while longer and a more formal ceremony.”

“It’s not as if you are married,” Bradley said.

I frowned. “And how is it not? Other than I would not be expected to share property with a wife.”

He grimaced with consternation. “Having a matelot is not marriage.”

“If my understanding of such things is correct, and perhaps it is not, then matelots are partners, considered couples apart from all others, share all things – and they, even by the article we just ratified, inherit from one another. I see it as differing from marriage in that it indicates a condition of greater legal entanglement, not less.”

The Scotsman, Liam, Otter, his Dutch matelot, the Bard, and Siegfried had joined us in the back corner of the deck. Everyone watched Bradley for his answer, and the captain looked uncomfortable under their scrutiny. He gave Siegfried a beseeching look.

Siegfried sighed. “Marriage is a union sanctified in a church.”

Bradley looked relieved, and the rest of us frowned. Siegfried looked no more pleased with what he had just said than we were.

“Pardon me,” I said. “I was born to nobility, and I have spent years in the courts of Austria, France and two Roman cities. Amongst people of such birth, marriage has little to do with the church unless there are political considerations between members of two differing faiths.

Marriage is a legal contract between families and individuals intended to provide for demonstrable parentage and the care and support of children, and to cement alliances. And on truly rare occasion, it has something to do with love. The institution also serves to keep people from fighting in the streets about who had carnal knowledge of whom.”

I shrugged. “But I am not a religious man. Still, from what little I have seen and been told since arriving here, matelotage serves many of those functions for preserving an orderly society, and thus in my opinion matelots occupy the same level of legal distinction amongst the Brethren as a married couple would in England.”

“What’dHe Say?” Pete asked.

I made note that I would have to greatly simplify my oration if I required Pete’s immediate support in any matter. I also noted that Siegfried was studying the planks with a small smile and not looking at his matelot. Bradley regarded me with consternation. I was sure I had not fallen within the parameters of what he bargained for, once again. Liam grinned; his matelot thoughtfully chewed an apple. The Bard scratched his head and wore a sardonic smirk. Striker was deep in thought. And most importantly, my matelot regarded me with amusement. I was greatly relieved that he was not looking upon me with murder in his eyes.

“I agree,” Striker said suddenly. “I’m more married to Pete than I was my wife.”

“You had a wife?” I asked.

“Aye,” he said soberly. “And a babe, but they caught a fever and died while I was at sea. It was before I came here.”

“I am sorry,” I said.

He shook his head. “I think perhaps it was for the best. If they had lived another year, they would have been abandoned when I was shipped here; and who knows what would have become of them. It wasn’t as if I was a good husband anyhow.”

“You’reGood Ta Me,” Pete said with concern, and rubbed Striker’s shoulder.

Striker smiled again. “As I said, I’m more married to him than I was to her.”

“It does not fit within my definition of marriage,” Bradley said. All gazes shifted to his matelot.

Siegfried looked thoughtful. “Nor mine.” He turned away from us, and worked his way through the signing men down to the deck below.

An awkward silence followed. Bradley left us, too.

“I cause nothing but trouble,” I said quietly.

“Tell me of it, I married you,” Gaston said disparagingly in French.

I grinned. In truth, I was secretly pleased with the Gods.

IV: Roving - March-May, 1667

Wherein I Discover I Am Not A Wolf

My bowels and the heat asserted their hold over my body and spirit during the debate about where to provision, and I crawled into the hold and napped in the bed Davey had used. If he came and found me there, I was not aware of it. The ship was under way when Gaston woke me. He informed me we were on our way to Hispaniola to raid a swine farm. I drank water, ate boucan, and went back to sleep, as there was a familiar unsettled sensation in my stomach and I realized I was seasick again.

Sometime later, I was awakened by our surgeon, Cleghorn.

Bradley had informed him that I had the flux. I propped myself against the sloping wall, and told him I was also prone to seasickness and seemingly suffering from that too. He asked the usual questions concerning the consistency of my stool and what I had been eating and drinking, and then he felt my pulse and listened to my breathing as I answered. I did not embellish my responses with the whys and wherefores, I merely stated that I was drinking a great deal of water and eating as I could.

“I want you to stop consuming anything until they pass,” he said. “It is my guess that this will not be overly irksome for you, as you probably do not feel the need to partake of anything with the seasickness and all.

I will give you something to help you sleep. You should rest for several days, and then if it has not passed, I will bleed you to clear the bad blood.”

I let my perplexity show clearly. “How will we know if it has passed if I have not partaken of anything to pass?”

He smiled. “The urge to do so suddenly will pass, and you will feel calmness in your bowels.”

“How will I feel calmness in my bowels if I am famished?”

“Bradley warned me you might be a troublesome patient.”

I let that pass. “What say you to the theory that it may be possible to clear a vileness of the bowels with large quantities of water? To flush it out?”

“That’s absurd. Where did you hear such a thing, some court physician in England?”

“I have never been to court in England.” So Bradley had told him a number of other things about me as well. “Where did you learn your trade?”

The air was growing distinctly cooler between us. He set down the vial that he had been examining and regarded me with a calm face and firm eyes. “I was trained as a surgeon in His Majesty’s Navy. Where did you receive medical training?”

“I have not. Yet in my travels I have met and required the services of a number of surgeons and physicians in several nations: enough to know that medical opinion varies greatly from place to place and person to person. I mean no offense, but none of you know for certain what will work or not, unless it is a simple matter such as removing shot or stitching a wound. All other matters of the body seem to be a mystery and spark as many schools of thought as religion and philosophy combined. As a result, unless I am unconscious and incapable of making a decision on my own behalf, I choose to keep my own counsel and decide which remedy to partake of. A week ago, I would have followed your advice to the letter, but since arriving here, I heard of another course of treatment, and it made a great deal of sense to me, and I wish to continue it.”

He looked annoyed, but was attempting to continue to be pleasant as he packed his bag. “I can see your reasoning. I truly can. So where did you hear this remedy from?”

“You will scoff, but Gaston.”

Cleghorn narrowed his eyes and shrugged. “I don’t know him.”

“My… matelot.”

This induced him to roll his eyes as I had expected. “Good luck to you, then.” He stood as much as one could in the low hold, and braced his hand on the ceiling beams. “You may find it prudent to have someone inform me when you pass into unconsciousness. That way, I may possibly be able to save your life.”

I smiled congenially until he left with the lantern, and then I drank the rest of the water in the dark. I realized it was late, as there was very little light coming through the hatch. There was another lantern at the other end of the hold, but it did little to iluminate the shadows around me. I heard voices nearby and knew I was not alone. I thought I should try to doze again. And then Gaston was at my side.

“Were you here?” I asked sluggishly.

“Non, I saw him leave. If I had seen him come down, I would have been here. I am sorry. Did he give you something?”

“Non, I defended myself well and would not let him,” I said in a teasing tone, as he seemed very serious. “I am afraid he is unhappy with me as a result. He said I should partake of nothing until the flux passed.”

Gaston heaved an exasperated sigh and turned to sit with his back to me, as if guarding me from the rest of the hold and all the world’s idiotic surgeons. His concern was touching, and I was gripped by an urge to caress him since he was in easy reach. This need did not seem to spring from my loins but from my heart. I simply wanted to touch. I forced the thought away, as whatever my intent, I knew the act would not be welcome. I foresaw a great deal of frustration in my future over that.

“Where did you learn medicine?” I asked to distract myself.

“A surgeon on Île de la Tortue, a physician really, trained in a Moorish college of medicine. He taught me a great deal and I read his books.”

“So why are you not posing as a medical practitioner?”

“I do not like people and I do not wish to be obligated to help them.” He said this with no humor whatsoever and I laughed loudly in response. He glared at me, and finally smiled.

“I am so very glad you like me,” I said.

He snorted derisively, and then smiled again. “You are my matelot; I will do right by you.”

I frowned at that; but he could not see it, as he was not facing me.

I was free to study his profile, though. Sitting as he was, and facing the only dim source of light, he was an interesting study in shadows. There was much we needed to discuss.

“Have you had other matelots?” I asked.

He shook his head, “Non, none.”

“Lovers?” I winced even as the word came out. I knew not how he would respond to it.

Gaston was quiet for a moment but he did not glare at me. “Non, none.”

I was, of course, surprised. He was a virgin?

“In all this time here, you have not had a lover of any persuasion?”

He sighed and regarded me with mild exasperation, but no anger.

“Non. I understand how you would find it hard to imagine.”

I winced. “I am not that promiscuous.”

“Truly?” he asked with a small smirk.

“Well, oui, I guess, as compared to some, possibly.”

“How many?”

I grimaced. “I do not know. I am not being coy. I just stopped counting years ago. It seemed a boyish thing.”

“Matelots?”

“Well seeing as how I never heard the term until I arrived in Port Royal,” I teased. He looked away again, but I did not sense he was annoyed; more that he would wait me out. “Almost one.”

He gaze returned to me. “Almost?”

“I had a man I was… He was my partner, but not as this is, or how I imagine this is, or… Never mind.”

He was deep in thought. “Was he your lover?”

“Oui.”

“Was he your partner in business as well?”

“Oui. And he was my friend, which I view as being a separate issue.

I have had business partners and lovers who were not friends. I have often had one or two of those components, but he was the first in which all three were encompassed. Yet, even if we had been here and knew the term, I do not think I would have called him matelot.”

Gaston frowned. “Why?” he asked when I did not speak.

I was trying to determine why I felt that. I had said it and known it to be true, but what exactly was different? Then it occurred to me.

“He would not have been comfortable with the public display of the title and what it might imply.”

Melancholy welled in me over this new knowledge. Alonso had not been furtive about all aspects of our relationship, but he had insisted on discretion as to the sexual nature of it. I had thought this in perfect keeping with how such things were done at the time; but in regarding it from amongst the buccaneers, I found it confining and insulting in retrospect. Though in truth, I had been nowhere else that men could so openly profess or display their carnal relationships with one another.

“It would not have been acceptable to him,” I added. “Just like Bradley becoming distraught at my calling it marriage.”

“It is marriage,” Gaston whispered. He moved to his knees. “We should go up and eat. It is night and cool now; you can sleep on deck.”

“Oui, I should let Davey have his bed back.”

He stopped and regarded me. “Have you been with him?”

“Who, Davey? Non, non. Though I will admit I considered it on the voyage. I was powerfully bored and lustful, but he…” I sighed heavily. “I have some pride. I do not fuck sheep.”

“What?”

“It is this theory I have concerning people and…”

His hand brushed my chest and came to rest lightly on my lips.

I was stunned and then I heard people descending the stairs, and I understood. His hand moved away, and he dropped beside me again, with his back in contact with my hip this time. The new arrivals were speaking Dutch. I recognized one voice, Cudro, as his magnificent baritone was hard to mistake for any other. I found the pistol I had tucked into the blankets. I did not know why Gaston hated the man, but I would trust that he had good reason.

Another lantern was lit, and we saw Cudro, and Liam and Otter. A moment later, they saw us. The Scotsman waved.

“We be checkin’ barrels,” he told Gaston in English, or rather his approximation of it. He indicated the stacks of them which took up half the hold. “Bradley wants ta know if we ’ave enough to salt and barrel a whole farm o’ hogs. I told ’im we should make boucan, it’ll last longer an’ taste better. ’E’s worried ’bout the time it’ll take.”

“We could do it while we are careening,” Gaston said. “With enough men, we could do the pits quickly and have time for it to smoke.”