The song of the sails

Chapter 4

Karol pushed back a brown fuse that had fallen before his eyes. Damn it, it had been three hours! Three hours peeling the damn potatoes, alone, for the meal of a crew of more than ninety people. And meanwhile, where was the other one?

The young woman still saw very well the mocking face of her "superior" – just this word gave her hives. She would be under his command for the duration of the trip. Absolutely all the time. Stuck in the kitchen until the end of the expedition, without ever learning anything from the handling of listening or reading cards, nothing.

That thought alone depressed her. Fate finally gave her a chance to grant her dearest wish to better send her back behind the furnace, to her rightful place as a woman, as if to prove to her just how vain her fight was. Just a few hours after departure, Karol felt more discouraged than ever.

Ruggero would be the one who would report the new recruit's work to the boatswain, namely Michael, also a lieutenant. On the merchant ships, they were not merging, but they had obviously made an exception, perhaps because they were not on a merchant ship. Anyway, for what it changed to his situation...

«OUC!»

Karol swore and watched the blood bead from the new gash on his thumb. It was the ninth, if she counted her two hands. She seemed to have stayed on that boat. She wasn't usually that clumsy. Even if she had never had so many vegetables to peel in such a short time, nor felt so much pressure.

She knew full well that it was a test, that she was put to the test to see if she was really worth it to have an entire crew discredited by the captain's choice. Despite the Royal Decree dating back several years, no woman had yet succeeded in joining the academy, or even in being hired on a ship.

She was well aware of the fragility of her position and the reticence of her comrades. They had to hope that she would break down in tears in the face of this humiliation, that the rolling of the waves would cause her a terrible seasickness or that kind of thing. They didn't know her very well. As disappointed and frustrated as she was, Karol had not fought all these years to let himself be defeated at the first obstacle. Of course it would.

"Karol ! You're not here to shoot crows."

The young woman immediately lifted up her head, leaving behind her dark fantasies. Axel had just arrived with a pile of dirty plates in his hands. He glanced at her briefly before turning his attention to the burlap bag still full of potatoes.

"Are you already off the case?"

He got closer. His boots snapped on the floor.

"You know what I do to them?"

"You make them peel two hundred potatoes with a sharp knife, she replied without moving."

"Don't play games with me."

"I just cut myself, I was going to clean up."

"Don't even think about it. We don't waste water for nothing, and you obviously don't have the time. Put it around, that's enough."

Karol  caught the piece of cloth that Ruggero was sending him. As much for hygiene.

She tied it as best she could and went back to work. His blood was starting to heat up. That she was at risk of gangrene because she had not been able to clean her wound, her former boss would have screamed out of such unconsciousness, was passing, even if the excuse of the water did not hold the course given what they were sailing on, but... he didn't have to tell her like that. She was not his dog.

She narrowly retained a sigh of spite. Of course she did. Of course, she had chosen him, but how she wanted to send him the bucket of peelings in the face! Or better yet, throw Axel in his pot and let him simmer with his damn potatoes.

Karol had finished and stretched out to relieve his back when the rooster came back. He gave her a happy smile and laid down a new pile – the fifth one – of dirty dishes. His face was illuminated when he realized that the peeling had reached its end.

"At the right time! You finished just in time to take care of all this."

By «all this», he understood of course the mountain of plates, glasses, cutlery and pots next to him. Karol whistled. She was expecting that, of course. She might as well get on with it right away, she would have finished sooner. Resigned, she pulled out the brush which her acolyte carelessly held out to her, without looking at him, and sat beside the wooden basin filled with salt water, in the middle of which was a large loaf of soap.

"By the way. To wash all this... you have one hour."

What, what, WHAT?

Karol did not let himself be taken apart. In less time than it took to tell, the dishes were clean and dried all over the kitchen. The young woman had the good idea of opening the windows on both sides of the room, and the current of fresh air that was circulating made the water evaporate faster than if she had wiped everything by hand. Even though, in her opinion, Ruggero had no interest in attending the scene, she was rather pleased with her idea. At sea, the wind blew so strongly that when she piled the last plates, they were already dry and she had only to rub the salt that remained of the water. She would close the last window when Ruggero came in.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm cleaning up. There's a problem?"

"You're late. It's been an hour and ten minutes."

"I thought you'd come and check on my work sooner, since I don't really have a sense of time or any way to measure it here."

"Are you saying that it is my fault, But no, Karol replied, raising a disillusioned eyebrow. Although, since you are responsible for me, one might assume that my results depend on your vigilance, don't you?

" I sense irony in your words."

"Strange."

"Be careful, Karol."

A slight smile stretched the lips of the young woman. If he imagined that he would run into a fragile and impressionable girl, he was mistaken.

"Are you having an authority crisis because of ten short minutes?"

"For your information, I have almost a hundred men to feed, honey, and it is not your beautiful eyes that will stop their anger if the meal is served late from day one. That said, seeing them accuse you of bringing misfortune to their stomachs after a half-day trip might be fun."

"I do not bring bad luck. And the meal will not be served late."

She pointed with a sharp gesture to the bottom of the kitchen. A huge pot full of water was hanging over a wood fire. Ruggero approached it without a word.

"Who told you to do that? asked him in a stern voice."

"I did wrong? As you said earlier, I thought..."

"No... replied Axel, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. No, you did the right thing."

Karol nods his thanks, relieved. His heart sighed with contentment and immediately calmed down, relaxing his shoulders too tight. She smiled in front of the rather satisfied young man. She quickly unleashed.

Your flash of intelligence will have compensated for your unspeakable slowness. It's better than nothing, coming from a pig keeper.

"In fact, I was a waitress," she went on, adding in a low voice, "know that you smell as strong as my grandmother."

"I beg your pardon?" grumbled the Master Rooster as he approached.

The blood of the young woman was gleaned. Ruggero stood in front of her, dominating her with more than one head and stared at her with a threatening look. He came closer to her before whispering:

"Try to insult me again, and you go overboard."