Raised By Wolves 2 - Matelots (63 page)

“Might,” my uncle added emphatically.

“But you think it is within the realm of possibility?” Sarah asked my uncle.

He nodded resolutely; and then his attention turned to Striker at her side, and he frowned.

“Uncle,” she said proudly, “this is Captain James Striker, and we have decided to marry.”

My uncle stood. He seemed as appalled at Striker’s appearance as he had been at mine.

They had dressed Striker in a shirt, coat, and boots, with a kerchief to hide the bandage on his head, but the rest of the livid bruises on his face and his swollen eye were all too evident.

“I ask that you excuse my appearance, sir,” Striker said. “I was involved in a bit of a brawl last night.”

“As a young man who finds he is soon to marry and lose his freedom is often wont to do,” I added quickly.

This brought a little smile to my uncle’s lips. “As long as it is not a thing you are prone to.”

“Sir, I am prone to fighting the Spanish, but not in fighting my brethren for the sake of it,” Striker said.

My uncle shook his hand. “Marse… Will… speaks highly of you.”

“And of you, sir,” Striker said, “though I know you are not marrying anyone’s niece this day.”

My uncle chuckled at this. “Nay, opinions of me matter little in this matter. So, when shall the ceremony take place?”

“Today,” I said.

Striker and Sarah nodded. My uncle frowned.

“We sail on the morrow, sir,” Striker said.

“Well then, I suppose it must be today,” my uncle said and returned to his seat. “And all other arrangements must be made as well. I seem to recall mention being made of securing land for a house here in town.”

“Aye,” I said.

Striker’s good eye was fixed upon me, and concern tightened his features.

I smiled at him but addressed my sister.

“Sarah, you will need to consult with Theodore on the matter. I know I will have little say in the house that will be built for my wife. I am sure she will choose to have a home similar to all the others built here, but I would suggest that you not build an English house. Houses designed and constructed as the French build in these parts are more conducive to comfort in the heat. They are much like homes along the Mediterranean.”

I sketched with my fingers on the table, and they came to sit so that they could see.

“I have seen just such a fine home built in a horseshoe shape,”

I explained, “with the rooms arranged in rows so that shutters or windows can be opened across from one another to allow cooling breezes to pass through. The inner area can be a garden, with the cookhouse and other structures well behind.”

“Like a Roman villa?” Rucker asked.

“Aye, just so,” I said.

“Like Doucette’s house?” Striker asked.

“Aye.”

“That would be a fine thing,” he said with a thoughtful nod.

Sarah was frowning at my hands and the imaginary lines I had sketched. She looked to Rucker. “You know what he is talking about?”

“I believe so,” Rucker said.

“Good, then you will design it,” she said. “It sounds a fine thing to me as well.”

Striker was regarding me with concern again.

“We will leave with you the money I keep in town,” Gaston told Sarah. “It should be adequate for building such a house and providing for your expenses, possibly even for pursuing the business matters that were discussed the other night.”

“I have money,” Striker said uncomfortably.

“This will be Sarah’s dowry, so now you will have more,” Gaston said.Sarah stood and embraced him.

“Wait,” my uncle said. “My brother sent money for the construction of a house for Will’s bride, and he sent some money to see that Sarah was cared for. I cannot have, and do not need, someone not of our family providing her dowry. It just would not be proper.”

“All I have is Will’s,” Gaston said firmly. “He is my matelot; it is as if it comes from him.”

“Well,” my uncle said slowly, “I suppose that is acceptable, then.”

Striker’s gaze was locked with mine.

“Take it,” I mouthed.

He snorted. “Sarah, you will keep an accounting of it.”

“Of course,” she said as she sat again.

“There is no need,” I said as firmly.

“You will keep an accounting of any money used for a business,” he said just as firmly.

She was smiling. “And the both of you will always have a room at our house.”

“That will be a good thing,” I said, “as Gaston and the Bride will not share a roof by mutual accord.”

“Someday, we will build a house at the bay I now own on the western shore,” Striker told her.

I chuckled. “Someday, Gaston and I will build a larger dwelling upon the Point, but the Damn Bride will never live there. Though,” I turned to my uncle, “I am supposed to have Ithaca when I produce an heir. Would you know if that still holds true?”

He shrugged. “He has made no mention of it to me; however, I know he has little use for the plantation itself. He has far more interest in the importing and refining of sugar.”

“Well, when Ithaca is mine, it will no longer grow sugar,” I said.

“Truly?” my uncle asked. “It is quite lucrative, from what my new acquaintances here have shown me.”

“There are more useful and less troublesome crops to be grown here,” I said. “Whether or not they have any monetary value, they will at least feed people.”

He seemed perplexed by this. “Such as?”

“Pineapple,” Gaston said.

“Ah,” my uncle said with a bright smile. “I adore that fruit. It is considered quite the treat in England as well.”

I looked to my sister. “Perhaps you could explore the idea of exporting pineapple to England. See if there are any taxes associated with it.”

“I will do so,” she said with a smile. “I have much to do, I should be taking notes.”

“I am,” Agnes said.

As was often the case, the girl had joined us without my noticing.

“What is this business you are speaking of?” my uncle asked.

“There was discussion of starting a shipping concern,” Sarah told him.“Is that a thing a young lady should be...” he began.

Sarah cut him short. “I learned much from Father, Uncle.”

“Aye, but you will be married now, and…”

“I will be happy to have my wife engaged in such activities,” Striker said.Uncle Cedric’s face fell.

“It is a bold new land with new traditions,” I said with a smile.

My uncle chuckled. “Aye, it is not England, so you keep saying.”

Sarah was deep in thought. She looked to Striker. “So any business venture I start should include Gaston and Will, of course, but I believe you mentioned others.”

“Aye,” Striker said. “The Bard, Dickey as his matelot, Cudro, and…

Pete.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Of course. Agnes, did you record those names?”

“Aye,” the girl said as she finished writing on a page in a new sketchbook.

“Theodore knows them all,” I added. “Also, remember to consult with Belfry. And, there might be others who wish to invest in the matter over time. As it is, we will have to see what contribution some of those listed will wish to make. I know the Bard is particularly interested, but I should discuss matters with Cudro.”

Gaston tapped my arm and pointed. I looked up and decided I was blind or my sight was in some other way impaired. I could understand not noticing Agnes, she was a mousey thing; but I could not believe I had failed to see Cudro standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“How much need I explain?” I asked him with a chuckle.

“I have money I would invest in such a venture,” he rumbled. “And if you are moving to a new house upon our return, I would be interested in purchasing this one. But… I would know why Striker is calling your sister his wife.”

“I will wed her this day,” Striker said.

Cudro nodded thoughtfully and scratched his beard. I thought he likely had a thing or two to say about that matter, but would not say them in our current company.

“Cudro, you have met my sister, Sarah; this is my uncle, Mister Cedric Williams, and my old friend and tutor, Mister Ira Rucker.” I grinned at the big Dutchman. “I am sorry, friend, I know no other name for you.”

He chuckled. “Wilhelm Voorman.”

He bowed and shook hands with my uncle and Rucker, and joined us at the table. We all set about discussing business ventures; and if Cudro had issue with my sister being in charge of the matter, he did not indicate it. And, thankfully, my uncle voiced no further reservations. I began to feel optimistic about what we would leave in the wake of our sailing.

Our discussion was interrupted sometime later by the arrival of Theodore. He was apprised of the particulars and more talking ensued, for so long that Gaston and I were finally forced to slip away to the market, to acquire more food to sate the rumbling bellies about the table.

“What shall we call this venture?” I asked as we headed to the market. For the last several hours it had simply been called the Venture.

“I would assume that there are several companies with Jamaica and Port Royal in the title, and of course, West Indies and the like. I would not have us be so common.”

Gaston shrugged. “Though your sister will manage it, there are too many involved to name it after one or even two.”

“Oui, we have quite the Round Table of participants.”

None had been willing to take the head of the matter, and so the governance of the venture was now seen as a democracy of sorts. I had been musing on the idea of new traditions for hours. Perhaps we were building something akin to Camelot: a place where brave and hearty knights were all equal. Was that not what the Brethren represented?

But did that not make Sarah Guinevere? Nay, she had another role to play. Striker was the one who had changed partners. Perhaps he was Guinevere. But did that leave Pete as Arthur and did that then make Sarah Lancelot?

Gaston proved once again that he knew me well.

“You cannot call it Camelot. It is a thing of wolves… and money,” he said seriously. “It must not be whimsical.”

I grinned at him. “But as I am a centaur, if it does not contain some element of whimsy I shall want no part of it. And if it is Camelot, who is Arthur?”

He snorted. “We will sail soon and have endless hours to discuss it.

If you do choose a whimsical name, I suggest you hide it well. Planters will send cargo on ships named after mythical beings or tales, but they will not trust a merchant company named after one.”

I knew he was correct. Not only would future patrons of our shipping services not stand for such a thing, the wolves we called friends and did this business with would not either. They were set on building a serious enterprise, if not on founding an empire.

“An empire born of wolves,” I mused, “or at least by those raised by them.”

My gaze drifted over the barrels, boxes, and crates of the market.

Most had been marked in some fashion with either the company or place of origin, or the enterprise that brought them to market. As such names were often long, many of these marks were comprised only of initials. I could recall a number of companies that were known by letters and not words.

“R and R Ventures,” I said.

“Romulus and Remus,” Gaston said with a knowing smile.

“Am I so very simple to understand, or are you attuned to my thoughts such that you can divine them?” I asked with amusement.

“Both. And one of them killed the other.”

He bought a wine barrel and pushed it to me to roll.

“Is there any myth where someone did not die?” I asked, thinking of my ruminations on madness and the Gods. “I cannot recall one.”

“People remember what interests them,” he said as he led us toward the meat market. “In school, the boys all remembered the battles where some hero died. Among the Brethren, they remember how much gold was lost or gained on a raid. Is it not a necessity of drama that something terrible occurs, or there is risk of it occurring?”

“Oui. But I did not recall the story of Romulus and Remus because one killed the other, but because they were suckled by a she-wolf, and I wondered what that would be like.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “A dog is similar to a wolf, but Bella has weaned the pups.”

I was aghast at the idea. “Gods, I would never think to trouble the animal so.”

His frown deepened. “Non,” he said quickly. “Some could be milked into a cup.”

“I do not wish to know… now. It was a thing of boyish fancy.”

“You are either inquisitive about the matter or you are not,” he said with some puzzlement over my apparent change of heart.

I shrugged. “I do not always wish to know the answer to my musings.”

“Sophist,” he said with mock disparagement.

We purchased a ham, and then stopped by Massey’s to retrieve Gaston’s money. I was quite tired of rolling the barrel about when we at last returned to the house. To my dismay, they were readying for the walk to the church and not inclined to sit about and drink. We each took a hunk of ham and went.

I presented my idea for the name.

“What do the R’s stand for?” Sarah asked.

“Romulus and Remus,” I said, and tried not to wince at the censure I was sure would be forthcoming.

They all frowned at me, including Rucker who surely knew of what I spoke.

“Did not one of them found Rome?” Sarah asked at last.

“Aye,” I said.

“I do not like Ventures,” Theodore said. “It has a connotation of risk.”

“The R and R Merchant Company?” Striker offered.

Cudro chuckled deeply. “What is that saying? Rome was not built in a day.”

“And neither will this be, but it will be built,” Striker said.

“What shall I tell people if they ask what the R’s stand for?”

Theodore asked.

“The names of our ancestors,” I said.

He shrugged agreeably.

We found the pastor was delighted to perform another ceremony; and to my amusement, he did not recognize me. This time I was pleased to be in the chapel, with someone else getting married and Gaston at my side as he should be.

And thus James Striker married my sister, and the R & R Merchant Company was born. We returned to the house and found that evening had come upon us – and with it, a good number of the ship’s crew, including many of our cabal. Thankfully, they were not all in the house: enough of them were in the street so that we had ample warning of their presence.