Betrayal in Tortuga

Chapter 2

 "Not as fast as you used to be, huh?" The phrase was teasing, but Hubert said it with a hint of malice. The small crew was sitting in a loose lantern-lit circle in the main hold, indulging in a few of their spoils before loading back onto la Miséricorde. "Face it, Captain. You're getting old."

"Once we make it back to Tortuga, you can take your share and find a new profession." Daumont was getting tired of Hubert's constant criticism. If you asked him, Hubert wasn't fit for piracy. Cowards never are.

"That's assuming we aren't turned in. I hear King Phil's paying handsomely for turning in pirates." The swab who'd spoken, Louise, was a gossip and a dunce, but Daumont still felt unsettled by her words.

"I doubt King Philip IV would care much about taking this motley crew out of the waters." Hubert gave Daumont a look to emphasis his insult.

Daumont looked like he wanted to strangle Hubert, and might've done it too, but was distracted by a sudden bout of coughing from his right. He turned to its source, Marguerite.

"Careful, you need to keep your lungs in working order at least until we dock," he told her.

Louise started to giggle. "As if these Spanish spices can pay for a trip to Europe, tuberculosis treatment, and a bribe so you aren't executed on the spot." The crew erupted into laughter. Their ruddy faces found anything delivered like a punchline hilarious. Louise looked around for validation of her not-quite-a-joke. She slurred her words and grinned stupidly, but her words were true.

"I do not have tuberculosis," Marguerite asserted, unconvincingly. She seemed to find her condition less funny. She looked to Daumont, and her cheeks burned when she saw him laughing along with the rest. "You wouldn't know what to do without me," and with that, she shoved an extra bottle of rum into her coat pocket and stormed up the stairs to the main deck. The crew seemed content to continue laughing and drinking sloppily on the unsteady boxes in the main hold, but Daumont recognized the need to get them and the boxes onto la Miséricorde before the crew became too incapacitated to move.

"Start loading these onto our ship. Tomorrow we sail to Tortuga." The crew raised their arms in a cheer, all except Hubert, and put their call to action into motion. Daumont turned his head grudgingly to the main deck and went to find Marguerite. He found her leaning against the shrouds and staring at the water churning in the ship's wake. The body of the Spanish guard that Daumont had shot through the eye was still lying on the deck at her feet, legs splayed, his remaining eye pointed skyward. Daumont kicked him onto his stomach, snapping the arrow in half as the body rolled over. Marguerite startled violently at the sudden noise, but Daumont ignored her and took his place in the space previously occupied by the Spaniard.

"This is good weather for sailing. The sea hasn't changed much since yesterday," she told him. Her mouth sounded dry.

"It never really does." He looked away from the water to face his first mate and best friend. He'd known her since before they were pirates, when they spent most of their time drying hunted meat on boucans, the racks for which the buccaneers got their name. Marguerite seemed different now but he couldn't figure out how. He broke the peace suddenly by exclaiming "Are you taller than me?"

"What?" she said in a shrill voice.

"When did you get taller than me?"

"I've been taller than you for years." She shifted on the shrouds so they would support more of her weight and then began coughing like a seal. When she finished, her eyes were wide and her breath shallow.

Daumont laughed and clapped her on the back. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"Don't touch me! Aren't you afraid you'll get sick?"

Daumont shrugged but kept his hand on her shoulder. Marguerite pushed it off. She was shivering.

"So eager to die," she said harshly. Then her voice softened, "Go and help the crew. I'll be right over." Daumont wanted to stay and figure out what she was so afraid of, but something told him he wouldn't understand.