Bawdy songs, belches of grog, and
prayers to Myrmidia formed a raucous chorus on Myrmidia’s Spear. Yesterday,
Scara had cleaned out half her stores of cheese, wine, and tobacco to provide
some comfort and succor for those recently enslaved. Today, they were rich,
free, and with friends long departed.
It was
not without cost. Most of the pirates’ linens were now torn into strips, used
for bandages. Several of their number were badly injured, either in the fight
with the Young Wolf’s crew or at the hands of the same crew while enslaved.
Edwardo’s body was carefully wrapped, waiting burial on the shore. He’d paid
the ultimate price. The celebration did not exclude their communal sadness but
honored his sacrifice.
Among
the sea of celebration Amadeus’ lack of mirth burned a bright beacon. He stood
in the physician’s galley, rolling the torn sheets into useful rolls as instructed,
swabbing blood from the floor, handing Scara items as instructed. Finally, they
were alone.
Turning
to face him, she watched him work. His hands were mostly uncalloused. He rolled
bandage after bandage with precision. Though she had treated him for recent
brassies and lashes, he had few of age, and retained his good looks. With his
brown hair, blue eyes and well set features, he was even better looking than
Hugo. Amadeus’ handsome visage initially triggered her purchase, however, she
was glad. In their exchanges he was polite and well spoken. Since the
celebration started he’d fallen into silence.
Realization
washed over her like water. Of course. The day was about celebrating the free.
To the enslaved, there was only pain. Reaching into her personal chest, she
produced a sheet of paper. Holding it up, she inquired, “Do you recognize this?”
A nod served as his silent answer. It was his slave contract. The gleam of
hatred in his eye spoke well as to his feelings of having it produced at a time
like this. She ripped it in two, then again and again, before throwing the
confetti in her waste bucket. “You’re a good assistant, and unless I’m very
wrong, a good person. Stay with us and be free, or you can go back to shore.
But, if you stay, I’ll teach you what I know about medicine. After all, we have
a fleet now and we’re going to need more than one person in here.”
“I’ll
stay.” His glances darted between Scara and the bucket containing his contract.
Words seemed to be sifting through his mind until he settled upon, “I didn’t
know what to expect when I was sold into slavery. I figured it would be a short
and hard life. The one thing I didn’t expect was you.”
The
Estalian laughed. “I hear that a lot. Let’s prepare.” she grabbed a handful to
rags and started rolling. “There is a lot to do, and more to come.”
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