Page 3 of Escaping Pirates
“I think she’s a stowaway,” the pirate who found me saidgleefully. “And a pretty one at that. We may not want to toss this one overboard.”
The captain tugged on one of his beard braids thoughtfully, still examining me up and down. “She’s not a stowaway, Steele. Use your thick head,” he said slowly. “She’s noble, but not royal. My guess is that was her handmaiden we just tossed overboard.”
“I’m the handmaiden,” I lied in a rush, hoping against hope that fear of killing a noblewoman would make them retrieve Enid. A life as a hostage would be better than no life at all.
“Well-dressed for a simple handmaiden, aren’t you?” The cunning look in the captain’s eyes was much too perceptive for my liking.
“My-my mistress is generous,” I stammered. “There’ll be a reward for her safe return.”
“Liar,” he hissed, then raised his voice. “Girls, come here!”
Two young women about my age trotted over. They had both inherited their father’s hair, but their tone was muted to a copper color, and they had pale-white faces with a smattering of freckles sprinkled over their noses. But despite their bright hair, their attire was what drew my eyes. One wore an absurdly impractical gown with wide hoop skirts and a bodice so low that her cleavage threatened to spill out at any moment. The stuffed fox fur draped over her shoulders matched her hair, which was pinned in a lopsided updo that was in just as much danger of falling as her bosom was of exploding out of her gown.
The taller girl was much thinner than her sister and instead of a fox fur, she wore a gauzy shawl that didn’t at all flatter her narrow shoulders and twig-like arms. Black gloves much too large for her rose to her armpits, bulging inrolls along their length. I stared at the two sisters, deciding that they looked like two young children playing dress-up with their mother’s clothes.
When the two girls saw me, the shorter, curvier one gasped and clapped her hands. “Oh, Daddy, you brought us a servant girl after all!”
“No,” I choked out, my mind still fixed on Enid’s predicament even as my hope of avoiding the leering crew diminished. Enid could swim, but not indefinitely. “Help Enid. Don’t let her die!”
“I like this,” the pirate captain said, twirling his braided facial hair around a thick finger. “A fine lady reduced to a serving girl for my daughters.”
The shorter of the two girls gasped dramatically and covered her mouth so quickly that her fox fur tumbled to the gritty floor. “Oooooh, Blossom!” she squealed in the same voice that had annoyed me so greatly earlier. “She’ll know all the latest fashions and hairstyles, and just look”—she waved her hand at the crates of goods surrounding us—”we have our pick for a new wardrobe!”
I felt sick. Pirates and thieves, steal my father’s goods after they’d thrown my crew overboard? I’d rather see the merchandise sunk to the bottom of the ocean.
Sudden inspiration hit. “I’ll show you which styles are in fashion and would be best for your figures,” I offered. “But I would need everything brought up to the deck so I can see which colors match your complexions in the light. Down here is much too dim.” My heart thumped madly, pounding so high up it felt ready to emerge from my throat. “Bring the boxes labeledWomen’s Fashion.”
The tall, thin sister pounced on the offer faster than a jackal onto a dying rabbit. “Steele, Gavvet, get all these crates up to the deck!”
They instantly obeyed, hefting the wooden crates onto their shoulders and lugging them up to the bright sunshine.
“You don’t mind, do you, Daddy?” The sisters linked their arms onto my elbows and followed, squeezing our way up the narrow staircase.
The sight that met my eyes wasn’t a pretty one. A horde of thuggish pirates leered at every turn, eyes raking me up and down with a hungry expression in their greedy eyes. I scarcely noticed their stares as my eyes scanned the water, and a surge of relief briefly unknotted my stomach when I spotted Enid and the crew floundering in the waves. It had only been a few minutes since they’d been thrown overboard. How long could they swim before they drowned?
“Friends of yours?” The captain’s foul breath assaulted my nose as he whispered in my ear. I jumped, unaware that he had snuck up on me from behind. “I’m not a killer, see. But the ocean”—he gestured at the waves—“is not as kind as I. Now, let’s have a demonstration of your fashion sense, if you please.”
Turning away from Enid’s panicked face, I schooled my features into an expression of calm deliberation and gestured for the first crate to be opened. The pirate nearest me, who smelled as though he’d never bathed in his life, wedged his axe blade into the crack and pried off the lid. I finished prizing it off, and as casually as I could, flung the wide square of wooden planks over the bulwarks. Was it large enough for Enid to use as a flotation device? Or would the fear of drowning cause everyone to fight for it?
“Stand here, please,” I instructed the two girls, who shoved each other aside in their haste to obey. I tossed aside the wrappings and extricated a heavy gown of navy brocade, holding it up for size to each woman in turn. “This is your color, but the wrong length,” I told the older of the two girls,handing her the gown. “We can let it out to fit, though. Hold onto it for a minute.”
I shifted my focus to the younger, prettier sister. “And you’re Sugar, right?” When she nodded, I continued, “We need to look for a light green color for you to match your eyes. Hold these…” I dumped piles of clothing into her arms as quickly as possible so I could empty the crate, then pretended to stumble over it as I stood back to look at the gowns. After aiming an obvious kick at the offending wood, I threw that into the ocean as well, noting as I did so that Enid, bobbing up and down in the waves, now clung to the crate’s wooden lid.
Wishing I had longer to look and ensure she would be all right, I gestured for the next crate to be opened. Had I helped Enid? Or had I merely prolonged her death by allowing her to float along until she was eaten by a kraken or called to her death by sirens? Was there any chance of her being rescued?
The pirates were still staring at me as I dug into the next crate, which held an assortment of corsets and undergarments.
“Nothing to see, you dogs!” the captain shouted, shooing away the rest of his crew. “Give my girls some privacy to look at their lady things!” He chivvied them down to begin emptying the cargo hold and transporting the most valuable cargo to his own ship.
I continued to empty as many crates as possible and fling them overboard, loading down the sisters with more dresses than any one woman would ever need in a lifetime. I insisted that each dress would look wonderful, or else could easily be tailored to fit her. Were there enough crates to help prevent all the sailors overboard from drowning? I didn’t dare pause long enough to see how many were still alive.There had to be two dozen out there, less than when we first embarked on our voyage, but still close.
By the time I’d emptied the last of the crates, each girl was buried under a hill of gowns, petticoats, shoes, jewelry, and accessories. They twirled parasols, cooed over coin purses, and modeled fasteners for each other.
Any chance I got, I snuck a look at my crew. They had floated away from the ship, but each clung to scraps of wood, sometimes two men to a single crate. What would become of them?
What would become of me?
CHAPTER 3
