The Princess and The Pirate, Ch 8: Dinner with a Pirate Captain

Jeff had left the young ladies locked in the captain’s cabin, so he could go tell the captain about the plans. He came back and stood watch outside the door. At seven o’clock, the captain came and rapped sharply on the door. Fioretta came out, bravely leaving the maids behind on her new adventure.

The captain’s private dining room was nothing at all like the crew’s galley and eating area. It was tastefully decorated with luxurious carpeting and a fine oak table that was delicately carved. Salad and a shrimp appetizer were already waiting for them on the ceramic plates. Captain Matthew held Fioretta’s chair for her then sat down himself.
"May I remove my veil to eat?" Fioretta asked. She hated the thought of how she would have to maneuver to get around the veil.

"That is your own choice, Ma’am. I asked you to wear the veil for your own protection. The men on this ship are just barely above savages, and I don’t want to give them any reason to harm you."

"Thank you for your concern." She said this rather more tartly than she had intended as she thought about how she would have been far from their harm if they had not attacked the ship. As she removed her veil, she thought about the men who were crammed in the cages below and wondered how she could help them.

"You aren’t afraid of me," Captain Matthew stated. He looked at Fioretta’s pretty face and appreciated it the way a collector of fine art might appreciate a painting done by a master. Fioretta noted his look in her mind - it was not at all rakish or lustful.

"No," she answered. "At the moment I do not fear for my personal safety. You have taken great pains to make me feel as comfortable s possible. And, let’s not forget that you saved my life at great risk to your own. Who ever heard of a pirate jumping on board a sinking ship to save a woman he had never met nor ever even seen when he already had two women and all the ship’s treasures safely on board his own ship?"

"I knew there had to be yet a greater treasure aboard," he said, swiftly dodging the heartfelt thanks he was certain she would add next. "I was on board watching the ship go down, pretending to be unconcerned and waiting for someone to call my attention to go get it."
"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I’m an intelligent man, Your Majesty," he said. Fioretta was stunned that he called her this. How could he know? Who had told her secret when so many lives were at stake? He continued, "The men did find a few trinkets to take their fancy, but I knew there had to be more on the ship than that. There were twenty braves knights on that ship. You don’t send knights across the seas to protect one lonely trunk of baubles."

Fioretta had recovered herself, but not before Captain Matthew had taken note that his surprise knowledge was both true and had left an impression on the young lady. A rapping at the door broke the tension that had suddenly filled the air. Fioretta quickly donned her veil, then the Captain boomed, "Come in."

One of the older pirates walked in, stooping as he came, bearing a steaming cauldron of soup. He set this in the middle of the table and cleared away the dirty dishes. He poured Fioretta and the captain a lucious bowl each, then left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
"How do you know I am royalty?" Fioretta hissed, whipping off her veik and leaning forward. "I may just be some lady heading for Europe."
The captain leaned back in his chair, obviously enjoying his advantage over her. "I told you, I’m intelligent, Majesty. A lady may travel with a maid and a male chaperon or maybe even two, but not with an entourage of knights. However, no self-respecting sovereign would send the heir-apparent out into the cold, dangerous world without one."

"But . . ."

"How did I know you are in line for the throne? Simple. The knights’ crests are all from Christeland, and everyone knows that there is a princess who is about to turn of age from Christeland who is the only heir to the throne. Just like eight plus eight is sixteen, it only makes sense that you are Princess Fioretta, not just Fioretta, who is the heir apparent. It was easy to figure out even though I have never seen your special portrait the king keeps placing in the palace."

It suddenly dawned on Fioretta just how dangerous her position truly was with this man. He knew way too much. She would have to be very careful not to give him any more clues. She took a sip of her soup.
Captain continued to watch her as she gracefully ate her soup. She naturally held herself in a regal manner yet she did so with such ease that she did not seem to be snobbish in the slightest. Her every action had a purpose. Her movements reminded him of delicate tropical bird’s as it soared through the air.

Fioretta decided to bring the subject to safer grounds for herself and push this man onto the thin ice.

"Captain Matthew, you told me earlier that you were a Christian." He nodded. "How do you reconcile that with so many inconsistencies? I mean, you sink ships, you kidnap and imprison innocent people, you have prisoners caged every very inhumanely, and, of course, there is the . . ."

"What do you mean the prisoners are caged inhumanely?"

"I mean there are eighty men trapped in two cages in your hold with almost no light. They can’t even sit down..."

Captain Matthew jumped up, threw his napkin onto the table, and left the room in a fluster, slamming the door behind him. Fioretta heard a bell ring furiously and then muffled shouting reached her ears.

Fioretta sat there uncertain what to do. Was the captain unaware of the plight of his captives and angered by their treatment? Was he mad that she had dared point out his illogical and was making ready to do away with her and the others from the ship? Fioretta simply did not know, so she sat where she was like a statue.

Minutes ticked by. The shouting had ceased but now many, many people were running around obeying she-knew-not-what orders. She considered returning to her cabin, but the very thought of leaving the relative safety of the private dining room when so many men were running back and forth frightened her. She watched the quarter hour march around the clock. She sipped some wine to calm her nerves.

Another quarter hour ticked by and then a third. Each second seemed slower than the last one.

Finally, the door swung open and the Captain was with her once again. "My apologies, my dear lady. I had no idea the men were being kept in such uncomfortable conditions. I took care of the situation."
She somehow trusted him. A knock came once more to the door. The captain called in the man and soon the main course was set before them. The man left once more and she and the captain were again alone.

"Why don’t you tell me how you became a pirate," Fioretta asked in between bites.

"Fair enough," said the captain. "Your company is far too engaging for me to try to hide something like that from you."

Fioretta smiled and said, "Pray, do go on then Captain Matthew."
"I was born to Annette and Joel Harkworthy. Mom was a barmaid. Dad was a pirate. He came from a long line of pirates, going back who knows how long. I was their only child. Mom kept me with her until I was six, letting me listen to the wild tales of the seafaring men. I heard stories you would not believe. Then, one day, dad swooped into the barroom on a wild, stormy night and told Mom he was ready to take me with him. She really wasn’t much of a mother anyways, though I was her only one. We came back into port eight months later, and found out she had died of small pox. I didn’t miss her, really, but I was glad that I missed the small pox. Dad kept me aboard after that, and I grew up living the pirate’s life. When we stopped in ports, dad always sent me out with some pocket money so he could go drink with the crew. I guess I was about twelve when the sounds of the music being played in the church in a little town reached my ears and my very soul. I was drawn to it like a sailor is drawn to the sea. I walked inside, and I felt like I never wanted to leave there. As a matter of fact, when everyone else left, I stayed, staring at the stained glass and wondering what it all meant.

"When the priest began locking up for the evening, he came to me and we talked for the longest time. Finally, he realized that I was only twelve years old and it was long past midnight. We walked back to the pub where my Dad was. He was still there singing at the top of his lungs. The priest took him outside and they talked for a long time while I curled up somewhere and fell asleep. When I woke up in the morning, I was in the priest’s home in his little guest room in a nice, comfortable bed. The sheets were fresh and clean. The room was fresh and clean. It felt so very nice that I thought I was dreaming. Then I heard that music again. I threw on my clothes and went to join the others in the little church.

"The priest had made arrangements with my Dad to keep me and to educate me. I think he saw something in me. I don’t know. Anyway, my Dad stopped by later that day, so I knew everything was fine, and then he set sail to continue his pirating. For the next six glorious years, I learned to read, write, do arithmetic, and altar serve. I had never been happier, and I enjoyed every single minute of it. I never gave the priest any trouble, and he taught me right from wrong. Dad stopped by about four times a year after that. I was planning to continue my studies at the university once I had completed my time with the priest, but three things stopped me: the priest died, I had no money, and my Dad took me back, insisting I follow in his footsteps. The priest dying meant that I no longer had a home there at the church. A new priest was coming, a young one. He wanted nothing to do with me.

"Dad took me back in, of course and trained me to have my own ship, which I earned by the time I was 20. I slipped into the role determined to stop the worst of the pirating acts amongst my crew. I figured if I could get enough of them over to my way of thinking, perhaps I could start up a more legitimate business. Unfortunately, pirating is all most of them have ever known." He sat back in his chair and studied her for some time while she digested what he had said.

She finally said, "How can you know that is what they would do?"

"It’s part of the unwritten code of the pirates. Once a pirate, always a pirate. If Mom would have kept me with her instead of sending me off with Dad on those trips, it would not have been the same. But then again, if she would have done that, I might be dead now, mightn’t I?"

"Surely being dead is better than doing something you know is wrong all the time?"

"Ahh, I have a strong sense of self-preservation, my lady. I will just have to keep doing what I’m doing until I find a better way."

"So, what do you plan to do with us women and the men below? Where are we going?"

Captain Matthew put down his fork and said, "You are not into polite conversation, are you?"

"Not when so many lives are at stake."

"Well, let me ease your mind a little. We are sailing to a little island called Moran. We have stocked this island very well with food, fresh water, and materials for boat building. If your men are smart, they will be able to build a boat with these materials within six weeks and then find shore within another two weeks. If they are really good at navigating, they will find shore in five days. We want them to survive, but we don’t want them to be able to follow us or to find us later."

"How long will it be until we are marooned there?"

"Oh, you will not be marooned there."

"What do you mean?" Panic began to rise in Fioretta’s throat.

"I mean, if I left you there, the men - my men - would not rest until they got you and did what they wanted to you without my knowledge. No, I have to somehow give you to someone trustworthy."

This part frightened Fioretta. Without the men from home, who would be dedicated to protecting her? She tried not to let her consternation show. The night wore on and finally, she took her leave of the Captain. He walked her to her cabin, made sure everyone there was safe, and left them to their thoughts and dreams.