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smackenzieThe town of Port Doras spread around the harbor of an island that had changed hands so many times that no one was sure what country it belonged to. There was some law and order, but its lack of consistent imperial sovereignty meant that it was a welcome haven for pirates and buccaneers and men and women who might be escaping royal justice. It was a good place to repair and resupply one's ship, take some rest, and if necessary replace one's crew. Red Maggie had sailed with the same crew for nearly a year, and when they were land bound, they considered Port Doras their home.
Red Maggie had brought the Black Lighting in for repairs, and now she paced up and down the wharf waiting for Doren, the boatswain, to finish discussing all the necessary work with the crew. It was the boatswain's job to look after the maintenance of the ship, and even in the navy this was not the captain's job, but the Black Lightning was Maggie's ship and she possessively wanted to be in charge of everying.
Doren finished her conversation and walked over to where Maggie had stopped pacing and was squinting at a ship just coming into the harbor.
"Who is that?" Doren asked, gesturing to the new ship.
"I do not know. I do not recognize the flag." It was a black flag, as were most pirate flags, with what looked like a dancing skeleton on it. From this distance it was hard to see, but Maggie thought the skeleton was holding a red heart in one hand and a white crown in the other. She turned back to Doren. "Did you get a bill? How long will it take?"
"A week at most. Here." She handed Maggie a sheet of paper covered with writing and figures and a few tiny diagrams. Maggie hated the way harbormasters and carpenters wrote out their invoices. There was no order, no set form, and their handwriting and spelling were atrocious.
Maggie was a highly educated woman, and evidence of a lack of schooling offended her. The harbormaster in Port Doras was not a stupid man, and neither was the carpenter Doren had been talking to. But the bill for repairs to the Black Lightning was nearly illegible.
"Give this to Bernade," Maggie said, handing it back to Doren. Bernade was the quartermaster, which meant that (among other things) she kept the books for all the ship's expenses, and she was in charge of paying out any money. Maggie wasn't sure where she was, but despite the port's size and many enticements, there were in fact only a few places where she might be. And Maggie wanted to talk to her about restocking the ship's hold, so she told Doren she would go with her. Doren folded the repair bill into quarters and put in her coat pocket, and they went into town.
Bernade was in the second place they looked - a whorehouse run by Madame Lilyet. Madame Lilyet offered boys as well as girls, making it a welcoming place for pretty much all of Maggie's crew. Bernade had taken a girl up to one of the rooms, and Madame Lilyet offered Maggie and Doren each a glass of cheap, watered-down wine while they waited. Doren, who was oddly not at all interested in sex, kept having to rebuff the advances of several of Madame Lilyet's girls and boys, but no one seemed brave enough to approach Maggie. Another woman might have been offended, but she was just amused. She didn't need Madame Lilyet's lower-end stable to satisfy her needs. Pirate captain she might be, landless and without title, but she was still at heart an aristocrat and still looked to a better class of bed partner.
"They are all afraid of you," Doren commented, sounding amused herself.
"They know I spend my coin elsewhere, if indeed I spend it at all." It was not so unusual to see a woman on board a ship, but it was less common to see her on board a pirate ship, and even less common than that for her to captain one. So Maggie was a bit of a prize among a certain type of man. And despite the months she spent on the Black Lightning and the difficulty in keeping herself and her clothes clean and pressed to the standard she had been used to, Maggie was still an attractive woman. She was a bit taller than average height, with the imperious, entitled bearing that had come with her family name and her training at the Naval Academy, and the fierceness and banked anger that had come from her exile. Her skin was still good, thanks to generations of good breeding and good health. Her hair was her one vanity - long and curly and flaming red, the color from which she had gotten her name. It had been reddish-brown all her life, but now she colored it to get that brilliant, distinctive red.
It had not passed her notice that sometimes whores or other lower-class women would color their hair the same, and under some circumstances it was only Maggie's speech and stance that distinguished her from a working girl.
Now she swallowed her wine, coughed as it went rough down her throat, and gestured at the boy pestering Doren to go away. He sulked off.
"In a week, after all the repairs are made, I would like to set sail," Maggie told Doren. "Make sure the crew knows, and if anyone does not wish to return to the ship, make sure they are replaced."
Now this was something she could easily delegate. She had never been in charge of filling her ship with sailors, and pirates especially left many things to majority vote. If there was enough new crew, they would vote on whether or not to keep Maggie as captain. She hoped all her girls came back. She believed it made them a better, tighter, more dangerous group when they were used to living and working together.
"We would like some more time in port," Doren said. "Time to enjoy ourselves and spend our money. What good is all our booty if we do not have time to spend it?"
"A week and a half. There are rich prizes waiting for us, Doren. Merchant ships full to bursting."
And that was ultimately the best argument for piracy - the vast amounts of goods and money that one could amass, and all the things one could spend that money on.
"A week and a half," Doren conceded. She glanced around Maggie and waved. Maggie turned to see Bernade and her girl come down the stairs, both looking disheveled and satisfied. The girl was even halfway attractive.
A kiss, a slap on the girl's ass, and Bernade strolled over to where Maggie and Doren were already standing up.
"How was she?" Doren asked, grinning.
"Exhausting." Bernade grinned back. "What have you come to tell me?"
"I have a bill for you." Doren reached into her pocket, pulled out the bill for the ship's repairs, and handed it over. Bernade shook it open and tried to read it. She was not very well educated and her lips moved as she read.
"There won't be much left after this."
"In a week and a half we sail again," Maggie told her.
"As you say." Bernade shrugged, then gestured around the room, grinning wider. "Take your pick. My treat."
Maggie resisted the urge to laugh. Doren just shook her head. Bernade shrugged again. "Never say I did not try to be generous when I had the money." She stuffed the bill in a pocket and sauntered out of the whorehouse. Doren and Maggie followed. Doren went with Bernade, and Maggie walked off to find a tailor.
words: 1307
total words: 2148
Red Maggie had brought the Black Lighting in for repairs, and now she paced up and down the wharf waiting for Doren, the boatswain, to finish discussing all the necessary work with the crew. It was the boatswain's job to look after the maintenance of the ship, and even in the navy this was not the captain's job, but the Black Lightning was Maggie's ship and she possessively wanted to be in charge of everying.
Doren finished her conversation and walked over to where Maggie had stopped pacing and was squinting at a ship just coming into the harbor.
"Who is that?" Doren asked, gesturing to the new ship.
"I do not know. I do not recognize the flag." It was a black flag, as were most pirate flags, with what looked like a dancing skeleton on it. From this distance it was hard to see, but Maggie thought the skeleton was holding a red heart in one hand and a white crown in the other. She turned back to Doren. "Did you get a bill? How long will it take?"
"A week at most. Here." She handed Maggie a sheet of paper covered with writing and figures and a few tiny diagrams. Maggie hated the way harbormasters and carpenters wrote out their invoices. There was no order, no set form, and their handwriting and spelling were atrocious.
Maggie was a highly educated woman, and evidence of a lack of schooling offended her. The harbormaster in Port Doras was not a stupid man, and neither was the carpenter Doren had been talking to. But the bill for repairs to the Black Lightning was nearly illegible.
"Give this to Bernade," Maggie said, handing it back to Doren. Bernade was the quartermaster, which meant that (among other things) she kept the books for all the ship's expenses, and she was in charge of paying out any money. Maggie wasn't sure where she was, but despite the port's size and many enticements, there were in fact only a few places where she might be. And Maggie wanted to talk to her about restocking the ship's hold, so she told Doren she would go with her. Doren folded the repair bill into quarters and put in her coat pocket, and they went into town.
Bernade was in the second place they looked - a whorehouse run by Madame Lilyet. Madame Lilyet offered boys as well as girls, making it a welcoming place for pretty much all of Maggie's crew. Bernade had taken a girl up to one of the rooms, and Madame Lilyet offered Maggie and Doren each a glass of cheap, watered-down wine while they waited. Doren, who was oddly not at all interested in sex, kept having to rebuff the advances of several of Madame Lilyet's girls and boys, but no one seemed brave enough to approach Maggie. Another woman might have been offended, but she was just amused. She didn't need Madame Lilyet's lower-end stable to satisfy her needs. Pirate captain she might be, landless and without title, but she was still at heart an aristocrat and still looked to a better class of bed partner.
"They are all afraid of you," Doren commented, sounding amused herself.
"They know I spend my coin elsewhere, if indeed I spend it at all." It was not so unusual to see a woman on board a ship, but it was less common to see her on board a pirate ship, and even less common than that for her to captain one. So Maggie was a bit of a prize among a certain type of man. And despite the months she spent on the Black Lightning and the difficulty in keeping herself and her clothes clean and pressed to the standard she had been used to, Maggie was still an attractive woman. She was a bit taller than average height, with the imperious, entitled bearing that had come with her family name and her training at the Naval Academy, and the fierceness and banked anger that had come from her exile. Her skin was still good, thanks to generations of good breeding and good health. Her hair was her one vanity - long and curly and flaming red, the color from which she had gotten her name. It had been reddish-brown all her life, but now she colored it to get that brilliant, distinctive red.
It had not passed her notice that sometimes whores or other lower-class women would color their hair the same, and under some circumstances it was only Maggie's speech and stance that distinguished her from a working girl.
Now she swallowed her wine, coughed as it went rough down her throat, and gestured at the boy pestering Doren to go away. He sulked off.
"In a week, after all the repairs are made, I would like to set sail," Maggie told Doren. "Make sure the crew knows, and if anyone does not wish to return to the ship, make sure they are replaced."
Now this was something she could easily delegate. She had never been in charge of filling her ship with sailors, and pirates especially left many things to majority vote. If there was enough new crew, they would vote on whether or not to keep Maggie as captain. She hoped all her girls came back. She believed it made them a better, tighter, more dangerous group when they were used to living and working together.
"We would like some more time in port," Doren said. "Time to enjoy ourselves and spend our money. What good is all our booty if we do not have time to spend it?"
"A week and a half. There are rich prizes waiting for us, Doren. Merchant ships full to bursting."
And that was ultimately the best argument for piracy - the vast amounts of goods and money that one could amass, and all the things one could spend that money on.
"A week and a half," Doren conceded. She glanced around Maggie and waved. Maggie turned to see Bernade and her girl come down the stairs, both looking disheveled and satisfied. The girl was even halfway attractive.
A kiss, a slap on the girl's ass, and Bernade strolled over to where Maggie and Doren were already standing up.
"How was she?" Doren asked, grinning.
"Exhausting." Bernade grinned back. "What have you come to tell me?"
"I have a bill for you." Doren reached into her pocket, pulled out the bill for the ship's repairs, and handed it over. Bernade shook it open and tried to read it. She was not very well educated and her lips moved as she read.
"There won't be much left after this."
"In a week and a half we sail again," Maggie told her.
"As you say." Bernade shrugged, then gestured around the room, grinning wider. "Take your pick. My treat."
Maggie resisted the urge to laugh. Doren just shook her head. Bernade shrugged again. "Never say I did not try to be generous when I had the money." She stuffed the bill in a pocket and sauntered out of the whorehouse. Doren and Maggie followed. Doren went with Bernade, and Maggie walked off to find a tailor.
words: 1307
total words: 2148
