The Pirate and the Soldier Boy

Chapter 9

The sun was setting as their little rowboat reached shore. The days were short enough that it was most likely only six o'clock, though the light barely stretched its fingers over the horizon. Jumping into the shallows and pulling the boat onto the rough sand, Carmen's legs went numb in the January sea. Shivering they trudged up the sand dunes and into the thick forest. Carmen searched for firewood as they went, but soon realized it was hopeless, as they didn't even have something to start a fire with.

After an hour of walking the ground was barely visible beneath their feet. Carmen tripped over a concealed root and fell forward. She barely put out her hands to stop her fall and ended up in a twisted awkward position on the wet undergrowth. Sam put a hand under her arm and helped her up. "Maybe we need to stop for the night. We can find the road in the morning."

They continued ahead to a clearing and half collapsed on the thin ground cover. Neither had any food. Neither had any experience in the wilderness. Sam spoke again. "Come on Carmen. We need to get you warm. You'll freeze."

She responded agitated. "I'll be fine!"

She hugged her uncovered arms and brushed the hair out of her eyes. It plastered itself to her cheek in the light misty air. In actuality she was quite cold. But this was her fault anyway. And she was worried about Sam.

He took off his jacket and held it out. "Take my jacket. Please. You should have thought of inclement weather when you committed mutiny in the middle of winter."

She turned and walked away. "If you don't have it, then you'll freeze. And you're less used to the cold."

Ignoring all further protests, Carmen lay on the ground, denying the offered jacket, and tried to fall asleep. It was half an hour later and she had almost dozed off when she felt a hand on her forehead. At first she was alarmed and would have started if she had not been so drowsy and exhausted from walking so far. Then she heard a voice she recognized. "Oh Carma."

His hand brushed her hair off her forehead and draped a jacket across her shoulders. "You are crazy sometimes, but I love you anyway."

She was now fully awake. His hand rested on her cheek, barely touching for fear of waking her. "I wouldn't wish you any other way."

She felt a gentle kiss brush against her lips and it was all she could do to keep her breath from hitching and her eyes from snapping open. She doubted she would ever forget that happened, but in the morning she knew she would have to pretend she never knew it had.

* * *
The next morning came slowly for Carmen. Her mind raced and she couldn't fall asleep for hours. When the sun first peeked over the horizon she sat up and placed Sam's jacket over his curled form. He unconsciously pulled it closer in his sleep.

She turned in a slow circle and faced the sun, away from the beach they had come from the day before. Fifty steps, backtrack. Turn to your left. Fifty steps. Back. Repeat on the other side. After an hour she had a reasonable supply of edible looking food. She hoped they found a town soon or they may starve to death in this winter.

The two of them ate as they walked. An hour later they stumbled over a hard packed dirt road, and walked down the center of it. They had a brief discussion about which way to head, but eventually drew sticks. It didn't really matter anyway. After all, roads always went from somewhere to somewhere. There should be something at either end.

By noon a town was on the horizon. They walked gratefully through the dirty streets and rundown buildings. What a beautiful sight for two pairs of tired eyes.

Having no sense of direction inside the unfamiliar walls they wandered aimlessly through the crowds of the market day. People kept staring at Carmen, who was still only wearing her pirate's clothes, bare arms, neckline at least four fingers beneath her collarbone, and, to the horror of the fashionable ladies of the town, trousers. She managed to ignore all the looks askance. Sam didn't. "He's staring. And so is he."

He glared at the people passing, talking to Carmen without looking in her direction. "It's because you aren't wearing anything."

"I am wearing something. A corset and a shirt and trousers."

She said it with a slight humor. She knew she should have cared, but she didn't care what the strangers thought of her. She cared that Sam cared about her honor. It made her think about last night. Which made her wonder, and her eyes darted to Sam's lips before she mentally slapped herself. Was last night a dream or was it real? She thought it was real. It felt real. The fluttering of her stomach and racing of her heart could hardly be dreamt. Could they? Did she even want it to be real? And if it was. What did she think? What if he had ulterior motives? She was brought back from this fast track mind battle as Sam spoke again. "Trousers!?"

He whispered fiercely as they passed some officers giving them a strange look. "Trousers don't count! And you're supposed to have a gown over the corset in addition to the shift on underneath."

Carmen laughed and bumped sideways into him. "Since when were you an expert on lady's fashion?"

His manner didn't change much but there was a crack in his facade and his voice lightened a bit as he took on the same uncaring manner Carmen wore. "I don't think you understand. There must be a misunderstanding in communication somewhere along the way here."

He turned around still with a restrained smile on his face as a hand rested on his shoulder. A frowning soldier addressed him. "Soldier, I have a duty to remind you of the army code before your officers execute punishment."

Sam seemed to remember just then he was still wearing his soldier's jacket from when he first met Carmen, though much of the rest had been recently burnt. He stood to attention, tucking in his shirt and buttoning up his dirty blue and white jacket. "Yes sir."

He saluted the other soldier. Either old habits die hard, or Sam was better at acting then she would expect. The soldier paused slightly, his face red. "Soldier, she is also a violation of the soldier code. Unless she shows papers with proof of relation."

Sam whispered quietly out of the corner of his mouth. "Cami, I told you the outfit was a problem."

The soldier stood patiently waiting for the papers to be produced. Carmen and Sam stood there silent. The soldier's face hardened. "No papers then."

He roughly pulled Sam forward and lifted the flap of his ear away from his head. Not sure what was happening Sam jerked away a clapped a hand over the side of his head. Carmen felt a chill steal through her body that had nothing to do with the frigid air.

She struggled slightly as the soldier grabbed her shoulder, but knew it was no use. As the soldier looked behind her ear the branded letter P was clearly visible. The small mark she had been given barely a week after she arrived on the ship. It had hurt her for days, then after it had dulled, she had accepted it as part of her. Now, as she was dragged towards the stocks, it may kill her. She looked behind her, her last hope standing there without moving.

Then Sam removed his boot and took out a wrinkled and water stained paper. It was barely legible, but stamped with the seal of the king. Her hopes rose and then fell equally as fast. His papers. But only his. He handed them to an officer, his face blank, not looking back

Her heart sank. Just when she was thinking yesterday must have been real, Carmen knew it wasn't. It wasn't real, just when she needed it to be. And she realized, she wanted it to be real. Oh, how she longed for it to be real.