‘On your feet!’, Bear roared in his low rumbling voice after he had slid aside the shutter of the hatch they had dumped him in hours ago. Laurence got up as best as he could, considering both his feet and hands were chained, and stumbled up the ladder that was lowered. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust; sounds of men shouting, waves slamming against wood, the faint smell of tar, the squeaking sound of ropes. Then he saw the grimy face of Flint before him.
‘Well hello, Your Majesty’, the boy mocked as he made a bow, entertaining some of the hands nearby. He had exchanged his blue uniform for second-rate shipmen’s wear. ‘We thought you might want some fresh air. Aren’t we kind?’
When Laurence, still appalled by the way he had been treated, declined to answer, Flint grinned at the men around him and said in an exaggerated dopy voice: ‘Well blimey mates, I think the queen has lost her tongue!’, causing even more hilarity among the crew.
‘Free his feet’, Bear ordered Flint, who obeyed by pulling out a rusty old key. Once Laurence was free to walk, he was ordered to follow Bear to the front side of the three-masted schooner; here the big man told him to stand and wait.
‘The captain will be here shortly’, he grunted and sat down on one of the crates scattered on deck, leaning back and closing his eyes in the midday sun.
‘Is it true you were a Naval captain?’, Flint asked Laurence, eying him with contempt. When Laurence again did not answer, Flint continued anyway. ‘I hate the Navy’, he said spitefully. ‘You all think you are so much better than us, with your fancy clothes and your big ships. But I wonder who is better now’, he added softly as he walked up to Laurence, pulling a knife from his belt. ‘I wonder…’
‘CAPTAIN ON DECK’, Bear roared as a man appeared on the quarterdeck and he got on his feet.
Laurence looked daringly at Flint; the boy unwillingly put his knife away and stepped back, but the violence in his eyes was still there when the man arrived.
A man who, once standing in front of Laurence, proved to be no man at all.
She looked different now she had taken off the wig and pretty dress, and replaced them with her natural hairdo of wild brown curls and men’s wear: leather boots, brown trousers, a white seamen’s blouse, topped off with – to Laurence’s surprise – an aviator’s coat.
But even more important was the fact that her whole presence had changed. She was no longer the sweet little girl Laurence had met that morning; she was a young woman who walked with a confident stride, at ease with herself and the world around her. But even though she seemed fearless and was not afraid to look him straight in the eyes, he could also see a kindness about her that he had not really expected from his captor; she gave him a warm, honest smile as she stood before him.
‘Dear captain Laurence,’ she started, ‘pray allow me to apologize for my rudeness and deception you have witnessed earlier, and let me at last introduce myself properly. My name is Elleanora Black, and it saddens me to inform you that I am the captain of this sorry lot.’
She smiled again warmly and put her hand in front of him to shake; despite her polite words Laurence had to push himself to return the gesture.
The chains on his wrists made a rattling sound as he shook her hand. She too heard it, and abruptly stopped her hand in mid-air. With a slightly surprised look on her face she noticed the chains and then looked at Laurence.
He could almost hear her brain connect the dots.
Then a sugary sweet smile appeared on her face and she turned to Bear.
‘Why is he chained?’ she asked, and even though that sweet smile was still there, her voice betrayed her anger. Bear noticed it too, and to Laurence’s disbelieve the big fellow seemed very nervous by this development, even though the young woman in front of him was twice as small.
‘I –’, he hesitated. ‘I was under the impression those were your orders, sir’, he then concluded.
‘I see…’, Elleanora said softly. ‘And he was held where?’
‘In the hatch, sir. As you requested?’ The latter answer was more like a question. But apparently it was enough.
‘NOT ONE MORE STEP, FLINT!’, Elleanora suddenly bellowed with such volume it even startled Laurence. The boy, who had begun to slowly turn away, froze and turned around to face her as she approached. The whole deck had by now fallen silent; all men seemingly holding their breath.
She grabbed his ear and pulled his face close to hers.
‘Tell me, Flint’, she started softly. ‘Which part of ‘treat him like a guest’ did your poor undeveloped little monkey brain not understand?’ He stared at her dimly. ‘Which part of ‘lock him in the guestroom’ was unclear to you?’, she continued a little louder. ‘Which part of ‘make him comfortable’ did you translate as ‘chain him and treat him like a prisoner’?!’, she shouted.
The boy looked away; she got the rusty key out of his pocket and let go of his ear. When Laurence saw Flint had tears in his eyes, he almost felt sorry for the little rat.
‘And to lie to Bear and almost getting him into trouble also’, she continued, calm again, shaking her head disapprovingly, hands behind her back. ‘That is a betrayal I cannot ignore, mister Flint. I cannot ignore it in the least. But,’ she added as she turned her back on him, ‘since I have more important matters to attend to at the moment, I will let Bear deal with your punishment.’ Flint swallowed nervously as a grin appeared on Bear’s face. ‘I think one night in the Dungeon will do, mister Wallace’, she whispered to Bear, who nodded and dragged a uselessly struggling Flint below decks. As soon as the door closed behind them, the crew returned to their work.
‘Me and captain Laurence will have supper in my quarters, mister Stone’, Elleanora said to the sly looking man who had been waiting with the carriage earlier as if nothing had happened. ‘And make sure no one disturbs us, if you will. We have a lot to talk about.’
And with that, she unlocked Laurence’s chains and led him to her quarters.
‘So as you can see, captain, I have absolutely no intention or benefit to sell this egg to fellow-pirates or any other scum known to men.’ Elleanora took a sip of her tea, her little finger held closely to her cup, and looked at him plainly; as if they were negotiating the selling of a horse and he was no prisoner at all.
Supper had been simple but efficient; roasted pork topped with some vegetables, sour wine and a sweet pudding for dessert. Now tea had been served, and Elleanora Black laid out her cards.
‘What a fool I would be to provide my own competitors with means to overpower me and my men in a heartbeat.’
‘Why not keep it yourself then?’, Laurence asked. He was not worried about giving her ideas; something told him this lady had thought of every option already.
She smiled. ‘What on earth would I want with a dragon? Where to keep it on open sea? Dragon-transports are big and slow; I prefer small and quick. And then there is the issue of food; we have enough trouble feeding ourselves, let alone a full grown dragon. No, selling is our best option.’
She took a sip of her tea. ‘What?’, she asked when he kept looking at her.
‘How did you know we had it?’, he asked finally; all day he had been wondering how they had found out about the egg.
‘One of Riley’s men talked’, she simply said, as if it was obvious. When she saw the shattered look on his face she expanded her explanation. ‘They waited for you in Aruba, did they not? Captain Tom Riley and that dragon transport, the Allegiance?’
‘Yes…’, Laurence said, thinking of his old friend who had accompanied them into Spanish waters and was now most likely waiting for him at Gorda Covert in vain.
‘Well, we happened to be there when they arrived’, she said. ‘A dragon transport without a dragon, coming from the south. Very interesting indeed…’ She smirked. ‘It wasn’t even that hard to find out what your mission was; it is surprising how much a drunk man is willing to tell you when he’s under the impression that you are nothing more than a local tramp. So we followed you here and waited for the right moment and the rest is history.’
She waited a moment before she continued. ‘There are a lot of people out there who will pay good money for this egg, Laurence. You know this as well as I do. Apart from the rich merchants in these regions, there are the Dutch, the Spanish, the French…’ She gave him a meaningful look. ‘I wonder what Napoleon would do with an egg like this...’
She stroked the egg, which lay safely in a basket next to her; it’s smooth service changing from yellow to green. ‘I have studied it for hours earlier, but I don’t think I have ever seen anything like it’, she said, unknowingly almost exactly repeating the words of the surgeon Keynes when he had first laid eyes upon the egg. ‘The colours change when you touch it. Have you noticed?’, she asked Laurence, who answered her thrilled look coldly.
‘What is it you want, Elleanora? Why am I still here?’ He was tired of games.
‘What I want is gold, Laurence’, she answered, suddenly serious. ‘Lots of it. And you are still here because we need you to get it. That, plus the fact there is not really anywhere for you to go right about now. Unless you like swimming’, she added with a wry smile looking at the ocean through the open window; a cool breeze blew in from the now darkening night.
‘In the morning we will drop you off at the nearest island, where you will contact the Corps and soon be reunited with your dragon and crew’, Elleanora continued. ‘Then you will contact the Admiralty and you will arrange the biggest sum of ransom you can dream of and deliver it to me four days from now.’ She arose from the table. ‘And let us hope I will find the sum you offer adequate, captain,’ she added, ‘or I will have that omelette we talked about after all.’
***
A strong wind had blown them to Peter Island, right below Tortola, that same evening. Now the sun was, as ever, shining brightly, and the men were in an excellent mood; songs were sung, food was shared, jokes were made.
Laurence stood near the bowsprit and stared at the island.
‘It sure is beautiful, is it not?’, Elleanora said as she joined him, overlooking the white beaches and green hills. ‘Not a bad place to end up at all.’ She smiled at him, but he pretended not to notice and kept staring into the distance.
‘I know you must hate me, Laurence’, she said after a moment, timidly. ‘You seem like a good man and it hurts me to do this to you. But I assure you, I will make sure the egg will not be harmed.’ She looked at a little black boy who was guarding the egg for her; he sat in the sun, studying the changing colours with fascination.
‘And after we get our gold,’ Elleanora continued, ‘everyone will be happy. You will have your egg, and we will be rich.’ She smiled a little apologetic and this time he did look at her. She was so young; he could see the freckles on her nose, her bright green eyes…
‘You are wondering how I do it, don’t you?’, she asked him, laughing sincerely. ‘How I lead a ship full of savages.’ He looked away from her not knowing what to say; he had indeed been wondering that very same thing.
‘It is a long story, Laurence’, she said playfully. ‘Maybe I will have the time to tell you one day.’
‘Captain?’ a soft voice said behind them. They turned around and found Flint standing before them, pale faced and looking at the floor.
‘Ah, mister Flint!’ Elleanora exclaimed; the boy brightened up at once and only now dared to look at her. ‘I see you have survived your punishment.’
‘Yes, sir. I have.’
‘I hope you have learned your lesson, boy’, she continued a little sternly. ‘Lying, disobeying orders and being rude to our guest – even if that guest was once a member of the Royal Navy you hate so much – will not be tolerated on this ship. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, sir. Very clear.’
‘Good.’ Elleanora looked satisfied. ‘Now what is it?’
‘The boat is ready, sir. We are ready to go.’
‘Thank you, mister Flint. Away with you now’, she added and the boy trotted off. ‘He is vicious, is he not?’, she asked Laurence; he could hear she was proud of it, although he did not quite understand why anyone would be.
‘Very brave also’, she continued. ‘Too bad he is so afraid of the dark.’ Laurence looked at her puzzled. ‘Once in a while he needs a slap on the wrist, so we lock him in the hold’, she explained. ‘He calls it the Dungeon...’ She looked a little regretful, but added: ‘I hate to do it to the poor kid – he hates it so much – but at least it is better than a beating, right?’
Laurence, who was used to flogging as a punishment ever since he was a small boy, said nothing. He just followed Elleanora to the boat, and under the guarding eye of Bear set off towards the coast.
‘Well hello, Your Majesty’, the boy mocked as he made a bow, entertaining some of the hands nearby. He had exchanged his blue uniform for second-rate shipmen’s wear. ‘We thought you might want some fresh air. Aren’t we kind?’
When Laurence, still appalled by the way he had been treated, declined to answer, Flint grinned at the men around him and said in an exaggerated dopy voice: ‘Well blimey mates, I think the queen has lost her tongue!’, causing even more hilarity among the crew.
‘Free his feet’, Bear ordered Flint, who obeyed by pulling out a rusty old key. Once Laurence was free to walk, he was ordered to follow Bear to the front side of the three-masted schooner; here the big man told him to stand and wait.
‘The captain will be here shortly’, he grunted and sat down on one of the crates scattered on deck, leaning back and closing his eyes in the midday sun.
‘Is it true you were a Naval captain?’, Flint asked Laurence, eying him with contempt. When Laurence again did not answer, Flint continued anyway. ‘I hate the Navy’, he said spitefully. ‘You all think you are so much better than us, with your fancy clothes and your big ships. But I wonder who is better now’, he added softly as he walked up to Laurence, pulling a knife from his belt. ‘I wonder…’
‘CAPTAIN ON DECK’, Bear roared as a man appeared on the quarterdeck and he got on his feet.
Laurence looked daringly at Flint; the boy unwillingly put his knife away and stepped back, but the violence in his eyes was still there when the man arrived.
A man who, once standing in front of Laurence, proved to be no man at all.
She looked different now she had taken off the wig and pretty dress, and replaced them with her natural hairdo of wild brown curls and men’s wear: leather boots, brown trousers, a white seamen’s blouse, topped off with – to Laurence’s surprise – an aviator’s coat.
But even more important was the fact that her whole presence had changed. She was no longer the sweet little girl Laurence had met that morning; she was a young woman who walked with a confident stride, at ease with herself and the world around her. But even though she seemed fearless and was not afraid to look him straight in the eyes, he could also see a kindness about her that he had not really expected from his captor; she gave him a warm, honest smile as she stood before him.
‘Dear captain Laurence,’ she started, ‘pray allow me to apologize for my rudeness and deception you have witnessed earlier, and let me at last introduce myself properly. My name is Elleanora Black, and it saddens me to inform you that I am the captain of this sorry lot.’
She smiled again warmly and put her hand in front of him to shake; despite her polite words Laurence had to push himself to return the gesture.
The chains on his wrists made a rattling sound as he shook her hand. She too heard it, and abruptly stopped her hand in mid-air. With a slightly surprised look on her face she noticed the chains and then looked at Laurence.
He could almost hear her brain connect the dots.
Then a sugary sweet smile appeared on her face and she turned to Bear.
‘Why is he chained?’ she asked, and even though that sweet smile was still there, her voice betrayed her anger. Bear noticed it too, and to Laurence’s disbelieve the big fellow seemed very nervous by this development, even though the young woman in front of him was twice as small.
‘I –’, he hesitated. ‘I was under the impression those were your orders, sir’, he then concluded.
‘I see…’, Elleanora said softly. ‘And he was held where?’
‘In the hatch, sir. As you requested?’ The latter answer was more like a question. But apparently it was enough.
‘NOT ONE MORE STEP, FLINT!’, Elleanora suddenly bellowed with such volume it even startled Laurence. The boy, who had begun to slowly turn away, froze and turned around to face her as she approached. The whole deck had by now fallen silent; all men seemingly holding their breath.
She grabbed his ear and pulled his face close to hers.
‘Tell me, Flint’, she started softly. ‘Which part of ‘treat him like a guest’ did your poor undeveloped little monkey brain not understand?’ He stared at her dimly. ‘Which part of ‘lock him in the guestroom’ was unclear to you?’, she continued a little louder. ‘Which part of ‘make him comfortable’ did you translate as ‘chain him and treat him like a prisoner’?!’, she shouted.
The boy looked away; she got the rusty key out of his pocket and let go of his ear. When Laurence saw Flint had tears in his eyes, he almost felt sorry for the little rat.
‘And to lie to Bear and almost getting him into trouble also’, she continued, calm again, shaking her head disapprovingly, hands behind her back. ‘That is a betrayal I cannot ignore, mister Flint. I cannot ignore it in the least. But,’ she added as she turned her back on him, ‘since I have more important matters to attend to at the moment, I will let Bear deal with your punishment.’ Flint swallowed nervously as a grin appeared on Bear’s face. ‘I think one night in the Dungeon will do, mister Wallace’, she whispered to Bear, who nodded and dragged a uselessly struggling Flint below decks. As soon as the door closed behind them, the crew returned to their work.
‘Me and captain Laurence will have supper in my quarters, mister Stone’, Elleanora said to the sly looking man who had been waiting with the carriage earlier as if nothing had happened. ‘And make sure no one disturbs us, if you will. We have a lot to talk about.’
And with that, she unlocked Laurence’s chains and led him to her quarters.
‘So as you can see, captain, I have absolutely no intention or benefit to sell this egg to fellow-pirates or any other scum known to men.’ Elleanora took a sip of her tea, her little finger held closely to her cup, and looked at him plainly; as if they were negotiating the selling of a horse and he was no prisoner at all.
Supper had been simple but efficient; roasted pork topped with some vegetables, sour wine and a sweet pudding for dessert. Now tea had been served, and Elleanora Black laid out her cards.
‘What a fool I would be to provide my own competitors with means to overpower me and my men in a heartbeat.’
‘Why not keep it yourself then?’, Laurence asked. He was not worried about giving her ideas; something told him this lady had thought of every option already.
She smiled. ‘What on earth would I want with a dragon? Where to keep it on open sea? Dragon-transports are big and slow; I prefer small and quick. And then there is the issue of food; we have enough trouble feeding ourselves, let alone a full grown dragon. No, selling is our best option.’
She took a sip of her tea. ‘What?’, she asked when he kept looking at her.
‘How did you know we had it?’, he asked finally; all day he had been wondering how they had found out about the egg.
‘One of Riley’s men talked’, she simply said, as if it was obvious. When she saw the shattered look on his face she expanded her explanation. ‘They waited for you in Aruba, did they not? Captain Tom Riley and that dragon transport, the Allegiance?’
‘Yes…’, Laurence said, thinking of his old friend who had accompanied them into Spanish waters and was now most likely waiting for him at Gorda Covert in vain.
‘Well, we happened to be there when they arrived’, she said. ‘A dragon transport without a dragon, coming from the south. Very interesting indeed…’ She smirked. ‘It wasn’t even that hard to find out what your mission was; it is surprising how much a drunk man is willing to tell you when he’s under the impression that you are nothing more than a local tramp. So we followed you here and waited for the right moment and the rest is history.’
She waited a moment before she continued. ‘There are a lot of people out there who will pay good money for this egg, Laurence. You know this as well as I do. Apart from the rich merchants in these regions, there are the Dutch, the Spanish, the French…’ She gave him a meaningful look. ‘I wonder what Napoleon would do with an egg like this...’
She stroked the egg, which lay safely in a basket next to her; it’s smooth service changing from yellow to green. ‘I have studied it for hours earlier, but I don’t think I have ever seen anything like it’, she said, unknowingly almost exactly repeating the words of the surgeon Keynes when he had first laid eyes upon the egg. ‘The colours change when you touch it. Have you noticed?’, she asked Laurence, who answered her thrilled look coldly.
‘What is it you want, Elleanora? Why am I still here?’ He was tired of games.
‘What I want is gold, Laurence’, she answered, suddenly serious. ‘Lots of it. And you are still here because we need you to get it. That, plus the fact there is not really anywhere for you to go right about now. Unless you like swimming’, she added with a wry smile looking at the ocean through the open window; a cool breeze blew in from the now darkening night.
‘In the morning we will drop you off at the nearest island, where you will contact the Corps and soon be reunited with your dragon and crew’, Elleanora continued. ‘Then you will contact the Admiralty and you will arrange the biggest sum of ransom you can dream of and deliver it to me four days from now.’ She arose from the table. ‘And let us hope I will find the sum you offer adequate, captain,’ she added, ‘or I will have that omelette we talked about after all.’
***
A strong wind had blown them to Peter Island, right below Tortola, that same evening. Now the sun was, as ever, shining brightly, and the men were in an excellent mood; songs were sung, food was shared, jokes were made.
Laurence stood near the bowsprit and stared at the island.
‘It sure is beautiful, is it not?’, Elleanora said as she joined him, overlooking the white beaches and green hills. ‘Not a bad place to end up at all.’ She smiled at him, but he pretended not to notice and kept staring into the distance.
‘I know you must hate me, Laurence’, she said after a moment, timidly. ‘You seem like a good man and it hurts me to do this to you. But I assure you, I will make sure the egg will not be harmed.’ She looked at a little black boy who was guarding the egg for her; he sat in the sun, studying the changing colours with fascination.
‘And after we get our gold,’ Elleanora continued, ‘everyone will be happy. You will have your egg, and we will be rich.’ She smiled a little apologetic and this time he did look at her. She was so young; he could see the freckles on her nose, her bright green eyes…
‘You are wondering how I do it, don’t you?’, she asked him, laughing sincerely. ‘How I lead a ship full of savages.’ He looked away from her not knowing what to say; he had indeed been wondering that very same thing.
‘It is a long story, Laurence’, she said playfully. ‘Maybe I will have the time to tell you one day.’
‘Captain?’ a soft voice said behind them. They turned around and found Flint standing before them, pale faced and looking at the floor.
‘Ah, mister Flint!’ Elleanora exclaimed; the boy brightened up at once and only now dared to look at her. ‘I see you have survived your punishment.’
‘Yes, sir. I have.’
‘I hope you have learned your lesson, boy’, she continued a little sternly. ‘Lying, disobeying orders and being rude to our guest – even if that guest was once a member of the Royal Navy you hate so much – will not be tolerated on this ship. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, sir. Very clear.’
‘Good.’ Elleanora looked satisfied. ‘Now what is it?’
‘The boat is ready, sir. We are ready to go.’
‘Thank you, mister Flint. Away with you now’, she added and the boy trotted off. ‘He is vicious, is he not?’, she asked Laurence; he could hear she was proud of it, although he did not quite understand why anyone would be.
‘Very brave also’, she continued. ‘Too bad he is so afraid of the dark.’ Laurence looked at her puzzled. ‘Once in a while he needs a slap on the wrist, so we lock him in the hold’, she explained. ‘He calls it the Dungeon...’ She looked a little regretful, but added: ‘I hate to do it to the poor kid – he hates it so much – but at least it is better than a beating, right?’
Laurence, who was used to flogging as a punishment ever since he was a small boy, said nothing. He just followed Elleanora to the boat, and under the guarding eye of Bear set off towards the coast.
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