Portete - Chapter 42
The Unexpected
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NOTE: This story contains some harsh language, violence, and mature themes that might be upsetting to some readers. They are pirates, after all. Ye have been warned.
Want to start at the beginning? Welcome to Portete.
Celeste de L’ombre lounged on her red velvet and ebony wood couch as she gazed out the window, looking at Tortuga’s harbor in waning daylight. Her room offered her a west-facing view of the harbor entrance, the setting sun illuminating the ships moored there. She sipped her crystal goblet and sighed. The sweet Oriental liquor warmed her throat, and she smiled as she remembered when she acquired it. It was something that old pirate MacRorie had given her. Sake, he called it. Rice wine. It was unlike anything she had ever had, and now she loved it. Adored it, actually. She lifted her glass again and then paused as something caught her eye. A ship was entering the harbor, and it was a big one. An enormous East Indiaman flying Dutch colors. Big ships meant lots of sailors, and lots of sailors meant lots of money to be spent. With Madame Suzanne gone, it was up to Celeste to get the girls ready for business. The young beauty grabbed her black lace shawl and wrapped it around her porcelain shoulders as she headed for the door.
“Plaintain! Rat! Where are you? Customers are coming!” She shouted down the halls in an uncharacteristic fashion, and the display of dominance made her smile to herself. The two young men appeared, clearly awakened from whatever slothful behavior they had been engaged in. Several doors opened, and the courtesans peeked their heads out.
“Celeste,” called Sabrina. “What do you know?”
“A ship, cherie. A big one coming into the harbor.”
“All right,” giggled the young beauty. “It’s been too long since the last lot.”
“Indeed so, love. Now rouse the others. I want the Mermaid to be ready for our newest friends!”
“Yes, m’lady. We’ll make Madame Suzanne proud!” Sabrina hurried down the hall, banging her fist on each door she passed. Celeste smiled and moved to the stairwell. The kitchen and bar would need to be made ready as well. After all, before their carnal needs, sailors always wanted their food and drink, especially after months at sea. And Suzanne was counting on her to keep profits up while she was gone. Celeste was determined not to disappoint. As she stepped onto the ground floor, the bartender rushed to her. “M’lady Celeste,” he stammered. “The rum is ready. The ale is tapped. But the kitchen is a mess!”
“What do you mean, Gaston? The kitchen was fine just yesterday!”
“I mean, we are out of pork! We have plenty of fish and fowl and beef, but our specialty… the roast pork… we have none!”
Celeste frowned. This was not good. The Mermaid was known for her excellent food as much as her companionship, and the pork was the crown jewel of the menu.
“Can you spice the beef and pull it?”
“What, m’lady?” The bartender seemed shocked.
“Use the same spices and seasonings, prepare it the same way, but use the beef. It should be good, no?”
“Well… I suppose…”
“Do it! They will be here soon.”
“Yes, m’lady.” The man scurried off to the kitchen.
“You certainly do command respect.” The voice was soft but startled her, and Celeste spun, the flintlock pistol formerly tucked into her sash now gripped firmly in her hand, pointed at the newcomer. She leaned back against the wall, catching her breath. He was a round-faced man – young, by the looks of him – with a funny hat on his head and a pipe hanging out of the side of his mouth.
“I assure you, the weapon will not be necessary,” he said, still smiling.
“I think I shall be the judge of that,” said Celeste. “You are from that ship, no?”
“Yes, actually,” he said. “I was looking for a Madame Suzanne. Is she about?”
“About what?”
“About here.” He looked at Celeste quizzically.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, is she about… here… in this place?”
“Oh! You mean, is she here?” Celeste began to regain her composure. She did not like being surprised.
“Yes.”
“No.” She narrowed her eyes at him. He was intriguing.
“What?”
“She’s not here.”
“Oh. Well, that is unfortunate.”
“And why is that?” She shifted slightly, letting her shawl drop from her shoulder.
“Well, I… um.” He cleared his throat. “I had hoped to discuss some business with her.” He removed his hat and ran his hand through his hair. He was trying unsuccessfully to avoid staring at her plunging neckline and ample cleavage.
“I see.” Celeste stepped slowly towards him, the pistol disappearing again, and a sway moved into her hips. “Well, lucky for you, I am in charge of all business matters while she is gone.”
“Are you now?”
“I am.” She was very close to him now. “Now, what was your name? I don’t believe I caught it the first time around?”
“Vestergaard. Captain Rasmus Petr Vestergaard. Of the Dutch East India Company merchant ship Draaken. I’m here on a mission of some urgency.”
Celeste laughed softly and looked up at him with lustful eyes. “I’m sure you are, my dear Capitan. Perhaps we can discuss your urges upstairs?”
Flustered and aroused both, Vestergaard said nothing as the young beauty led him up the ornate staircase to her room. The lock on the door clicked shut as the remainder of the Draaken’s crew entered the tavern downstairs.
Dawn came too early for James Patterson and the rest of the crew of the Relentless. Patterson was swinging in a hammock he had drunkenly slung between two pilings on the dock where the ship was tied up, an empty bottle in his hand and an unfamiliar woman unconscious next to him. The sun was breaking over the hills and burning his eyes. The sky was becoming a brilliant blue, and the sounds of the seabirds rang in his ears. Oh, how he hated being sober!
“All hands!” The booming voice of Rec ByJam seemed much too close to be possible. “Make ready and put to! We sail with the tide… within the hour!”
“Sweet mother of pearl,” moaned Patterson, attempting to disentangle the young whore from him and wiggle out of the netting. “Is there to be no mercy?”
“None for you, Jimmy,” laughed Roger Maddix as he scampered up the gangplank. The red-haired pirate was pulling his shirt back on over his head. Patterson glared at the younger man’s back.
“Damn youngins,” he muttered. “Don’t have the decency to suffer like their elders.”
“Sad but true, James.” Suzanne Murphee was now at his side. “Why don’t I get you a wee drop o’ th’ creature, eh? Settle your head a bit?”
“Madame, you are a goddess among women.” He smiled sheepishly at the beautiful courtesan as she took his arm and led him aboard. “Why are we leaving in such a hurry? I thought we would be here a few more days.”
“Captain’s orders.” Suzanne grabbed a stray bottle of rum and handed it to Patterson, and the pirate drank deeply, sighing and nodding. “Back to Tortuga we go.”
“Tortuga? Again?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Something wrong with Tortuga, James?” She took the bottle back and tipped back a quick belt. “You never seemed to mind before.” Her grin was both knowing and devilish.
“Of course, I love Tortuga, my dear. Just curious, is all. Seems like we are to and fro a lot lately. It’s odd, that’s all.”
She nodded. “All in due time. I think Captain MacRorie will be a bit more forthcoming in the near future. You just need to trust him.”
“Trust him? Suzanne, he is just about the only man in the world I do trust! No, we can go back and forth to Tortuga until the day we die if the cap’n wants. He’s never let us down before. I don’t reckon he’s about to start.”
Alexander Ford came running up the dock at top speed. “Patterson! Where’s the captain?”
“I’m not…” James stammered. His mind was only now starting to clear as the rum entered his blood.
“He’s aboard in his cabin,” said Suzanne. “What is it, Alex?”
“The Irredeemable, ma’am. She’s gone! Set sail in the night, she did. Now that’s right suspicious that is!”
Patterson shrugged. “Well, we’re leaving with the tide. It only stands to reason that they would be leaving about the same time, right?”
“But in the middle of the night?” Ford seemed unconvinced.
“Let it be, Alex,” said Suzanne, handing him the bottle. “The captain already knows, I’m sure. And he wants to leave within the hour with the tide, so I suggest you get busy, eh?”
“Aye,” replied Ford, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig, then handing it back to Patterson. “I suppose you're right, m’lady.” He gave a nod and was off, climbing the rigging and yelling to the other crewmen.
Patterson stole a sideways glance at Suzanne. “You already knew the Irredeemable was gone, didn’t you?”
She looked at him with wide-eyed innocence. “Me? Well, now, James Patterson, I am hurt by that, don’t you know?”
“Please, Suzanne,” he laughed. “You seem to forget I have known you a lot longer than some of these bilge puppies. You and the captain are up to something. I’m not going to ask what, but don’t insult my intelligence by denying it, either.”
She smiled sweetly. “I would never dream of insulting you, James.” She kissed him on the cheek and went below decks. Patterson chuckled to himself and finished off the bottle. Tossing it overboard, he surveyed the ship and set about calling the riggers to task.
“Look lively, Mister Layfield! Tighten that line, Mister Longfellow! We have a voyage ahead of us, and we sail with the tide!”
He gazed out at the open water outside the port of Petit Goave, the rising sun sparkling on the waves. It was a beautiful sight, and he grinned again, knowing he would soon be back at sea.
Celeste lay in the darkness, listening to him breathe. She was terrified. Something had happened that night. Something that had never happened to her before. Not since leaving New Orleans seven years ago. Not ever. It had now been thirteen hours since Vestergaard had startled her in the kitchen, and she had not left her room since. Sabrina had knocked a few times, making sure everything was alright. Celeste could hear the crowds downstairs, the endless parade of men coming and going between the other rooms. The pleasurable services being offered by her sister courtesans. And yet here she lay, still. The night had not gone at all how she had planned. How it should have gone. What should have happened was that the man would have come to her room, been seduced, given an experience like no other, paid his money, and left. And then the next, and the next. And yet, there he lay in her bed. Sleeping softly. She quietly slipped out from under the covers and walked naked to the window. She shivered despite the tropical humidity as she pulled aside the black curtain slightly to look outside. It was past dawn.
Things had gone wrong from the moment they entered her bedchamber. He was polite to start, which was unusual but not unheard of. She had offered him a drink, which he accepted, but barely sipped at. She danced for him, which he watched with interest, but not the kind of interest she was used to. He asked about her childhood. How she came to Tortuga and this life. And while so many had asked before, there was something in his voice that felt different. That felt true. And before she knew it, she was telling him everything. About her drunken father and mother, both murdered in New Orleans when she was a girl. About prostituting herself on the streets of that town to buy food. About meeting Madame Suzanne and being offered a chance at a new life far away from the Crescent City. She told him of her dreams, her desires, her fears. And not once did he move to take advantage of her. He sat next to her and put his arm around her as she cried, as she had never cried before. Sobbing and rocking back and forth as he held her. And he told her about himself. About Denmark and being a sailor. About not being of the aristocracy and so not being able to become a Navy officer. About the places he had seen and the people he had met. From the dark continent of Africa to the strange and mystical sorcerers of the Far East. They sat and talked for hours on end, laughing and crying together like old friends. Both were amazed at one another, and neither wanted it to end.
Finally, she could stand it no more, and she kissed him. He resisted at first, but she would not be denied. For the next several hours, they were as one, writhing between the sheets and exploring one another. In her years as a courtesan, Celeste – for the first time – made love.
She looked back from the window at him. He was snoring softly now and had shifted so he was mostly uncovered by the sheet. Celeste looked back out at the horizon and wept.
I wonder if the “girls” would have been all that excited about the uptick in business