The Bloody Cutlass

Chapter Five

Violet barely slept a wink that first night aboard the pirate ship. When Reed came down the next morning to check on her, she stood up slowly; her corset had been digging into her all night due to her awkward position and her muscles ached.

He hesitated for a moment in the doorway before he asked if she would like to breakfast with the crew.

Violet bit her lip, trying to decide which idea she hated more. Dinning with cutthroat pirates, or spreading one more moment in this dingy cell, with only the rats for company.

In the end the pirates won out. That was how she came to be standing in the doorway to the galley; watching the rowdy men talking, laughing and scarfing down their ale.

The men started to quiet down as they took notice of her. Reed placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her and she jumped forward with a start, breaking the contact. He lead her to the far side of the long wooden table and she sat down gingerly in one of the empty chairs. Reed took a seat next to her and the conversations around them resumed.

He began to fill his own plate from the selection of salted meats and biscuits. His large hands slowed as he looked to her, the wrinkles around his dark eyes crinkling with concern. "You should eat, Miss." he said softly. Violet forced her hand up from where it rested in her lap and she reached forward to retrieve an orange. She peeled a small section, lifting the fruit to her nose and inhaling the scent deeply.

Oranges were Poppy's favourite; her mother had craved them constantly when she was pregnant with her youngest sister. Her mother had filled the garden with orange trees, and one morning Grace and Violet had woken to find the yard was full of them.

From that day on they would spend every afternoon in the garden under the shade of the orange trees with their mother.

After her passing the trees were a painful reminder of what they had lost. Even now, in the middle of the ocean, as a captive on a pirate ship; the citrusy scent was enough to overwhelm her with memories of home. Tears sprang to Violet's eyes and she placed the orange on the plate in front of her, no longer hungry.

Sensing she was being watched, she blinked the moister from her soft brown eyes and looked up. Meeting the icy blue gaze of the Captain intent on her. For a moment she thought she saw something liken to sympathy flash in them, before it vanished; leaving only indifference behind.

            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Violet was left to her own devices after breakfast. All of the men, including Reed had abandoned the galley to their stations. Violet sat there, staring at the orange.

Then she heard some commotion beyond the doors on the far side of the room. Thinking it could be the cook, and that the cook could perhaps be a woman; she got to her feet and padded over.

Violet placed her hands on the door, intending the open it quietly and peak inside. But the door opened with a boisterous groan and she met the ferocious gaze of a portly old man.

He had paused in his vegetable chopping and stared at her with a scowl on his haggard face. "If you open that door again, you'll be going in me stew!" He barked. Violet spun on her heel and pulled the door closed behind her.

"Don't mind him, Miss. Cook doesn't much care for gentle lady's, like yourself." Violet regarded the young man in-front of her. He had appeared so suddenly she might have been startled further were it not for his reassuring tone.

He was younger than herself, maybe closer to Poppy's age then Grace's. He was lanky and thin, like boys often are, all elbows and knees as her former governess would say. He was freckled with dirty blonde hair that was in need of a wash and a trim by the look of it.

"I suppose it was foolish...I just thought...I wondered if.." Violet allowed herself to trail off. "You was just wondering if Old Cook was a woman? No women aboard this ship, Miss. Except for you of course." She saw the faintest shade of pink colour his cheeks, as though in telling her he had suddenly remembered that she was a woman.

Violet couldn't help but smile at him then. He seemed sweet, and certainly more harmless then the rest of the crew. Perhaps they could be friends for the duration of her stay. Maybe he could even share with her what the Captain was planning to do with her.

"What is your name?" She asked, and the boy returned her smile, revealing a dimple in his cheek. "Charlie, Miss." He answered, offering her a little bow.

"You seem awfully young to be a pirate, Charlie." She teased, and he straightened to his full height and puffed out his chest. "I'm a cabin boy, Miss, it's my job to deliver important messages for the Captain." He informed her proudly.

Violet found herself smiling again, "well, you certainly seem like a young man who is up for such an important task." Charlie beamed at her.

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway and Charlie turned, and regarded the man coldly. "Well well, what do we have here?" The man asked, taking a swig from a bottle of dark liquor, clutched in his free hand. He looked about her fathers age, his dark hair was greying at the temples, his beard all grey to match.

"Captain called for all hands on deck. That includes you lad you go on ahead now." He continued, nodding his head in direction of the stairs. His eyes roamed over Violet's form slowly and she shuddered. "I'm under orders to mind the lady." Charlie replied, moving slowly to shield Violet with his small frame.

The man barked out a harsh laugh that ended in a rough cough. "My my, from cabin boy to lady's maid, eh."

"The Captain won't be pleased that you're into the drink again, Harlan." Charlie countered boldly. The other man lurched forward then, his face contorting into a sneer that revealed his rotten yellow teeth. "You'll not say a word to the Captain or I'll tan your hide, boy!"

Violet placed her hand on Charlie's shoulder, and his posture relaxed a little. She was eyeing the space between the drunk and the doorway, when the kitchen door at her back opened. "What's going on out here?" The cook asked, glancing around the room and taking in the scene before him. "Nothing, we were just leaving." Charlie muttered, taking her hand from his shoulder but keeping it in his own and leading them quickly from the room.

              ~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ocean spray greeted them the moment they reached the top of the narrow staircase. "Is he always so mean to you?" Violet asked, now that they were safely in the company of the rest of the crew. Charlie shrugged, "he is a mean old drunk. All the same, I am sorry you had to see that, Miss."

She sensed he was a little shaken from the encounter with Harlan, but she did not want to press him. A mans pride — even a young man like Charlie's — was a fragile thing.

Charlie promised to return and give her a tour of the ship if she wanted one. Before walking off towards the helm to speak with the Captain.

Violet watched the crew, hard at work all around her and she wished for a moment that she could do something to contribute, despite the circumstances.

Violet was not well-versed in many practical skills. Although, she grew up around ships and sailors all her life, thanks to her father. She was a lady, and a side from the usual, refined hobbies that were appropriate for a young lady; there was not much she was apt at.

Reed was standing at the helm, shouting directions for the crew in place of the Captain. Prompting Violet to wonder briefly where the mysterious young man might be. Shaking the thought from her head she gazed out over the ships railing at the endless rolling waves.

Clouds poured in over head and Violet shivered at the idea of being caught out here during a storm. Off in the distance she glimpsed a ship, and her heart leapt. Could it be her father coming to rescue her? Doubtful. But she allowed herself to enjoy that spark of hope.

A rough wave rocked the ship and before she could react she was falling from the deck into the ocean waves below.