Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A Chapter by S. Waldo

The bumpy ride along the River Thames lasted for a little over one mile. Their driver pulled the horses to a jolting halt and jumped down to open the carriage door. Mr Douglas exited first, turning to offer his assistance to Graciella. Sh was never one to be pampered or treated as a lady, but she graciously took his hand and stepped out onto the cobblestones. Aiden Fletcher jumped out last and pulled his tricorn further over his eyes, these  London pubs were not always friendly towards him. 

“Ah! Here we are, shall we?” Mr. Douglas led his guests to the door of the tavern, he opened it and led the group to the dimly lit room. As Graciella was going through the door, the sound of hammers reached her ears. She looked towards the river and saw, looming above the glistening water, the eerie shadow of gallows. It was the Execution Docks, where many a man lost their lives for being pirates. Graciella could see seven nooses being fixed on the wooden beams. A chill ran down her spine as she gazed upon death.

“Ne’er een ‘em up close ‘ave ye?” Aiden’s gruff voice whispered in her ear.  Graciella flinched and glared at him. 

“Why? I do my best not to be around such primitive creatures such as you English.” 

Aiden chuckled heartily as the young woman strode into the tavern. Their client gestured for them to join him at a table near the front windows. The group took their seats and proceeded to enjoy a meal of fresh venison, hot bread, and sweetmeat pies. 


*****


With small talk to pass the time, the trio finished their meal within the hour. Graciella noticed that Mr. Fletcher mainly sat and watched her. She frowned at him a couple of times, thinking it may ward off his intense gaze"it did not. 

“Ms. Cofresi? Are you alright my dear?”

Graciella blinked and shifted in her seat to look upon her client. She did not realize she had begun to daydream. 

“Pardon my ruddiness, sir. I must have been lost in my memories.”

Both of her gentleman dinner mates smiled broadly. 

“As I was saying my dear, have you ever seen a pirate hanging? Quite the to-do around these parts you see.”

She shook her head. Mr. Douglas took a swig of ale and clapped his hands again as a school boy.

“Would you like to attend one? I hear rumor that it is seven men today! A few more than usual to be sure.”

“I hear they are not English.” Mr. Fletcher put in. 

“Ah Aiden, you would know if they were, wouldn’t you?”

The young man nodded, the hint of a smile playing upon his weathered face. 

“I thought so. I have our meal on my bill, let’s be off.”

The group left the tavern and headed towards the growing crowd gathering in front of the gallows Graciella had seen earlier. She had never witnessed so many enthusiastic people in one place, especially when that place was an execution. There were vendors selling dolls dressed as pirates, bakers with their pastries, and paperboys shouting out taunts to the guards. Mr. Douglas was not able to get the group near to the front, but that was sufficient enough for Graciella, who was still unsure as to whether she actually wanted to be that close to more death. 

Aiden stepped closer to Graciella, closer than she actually wanted, while their client managed to find another businessman he knew and delved into a deep conversation. 

“So you’re a Spaniard huh?” Aiden whispered directly into Graciella’s ear. 

“Sí, if that is problematic to you, then I suggest you move on.” She retorted. Aiden laughed and patted the girl’s shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze; she moved it quickly out from under him. 

Suddenly, the crowd erupted in boos and angry insults. A prison carriage pulled up slowly to the docks. Four guards stepped up and assisted in pulling seven men in iron shackles from within the barred doors. Aiden chuckled again, watching Graciella’s awed expression. As men were led to the gallows, Graciella stared intently at each prisoner’s wrinkled faces as best she could from afar. Not one of the men showed an ounce of remorse for their illegal habits. Two of the men were definitely Spanish"the lead man and the last straggler. The four men in between appeared to be either English or French. 

Something inside of Graciella tinged with sympathy for these poor souls"-surely they only wanted to provide for their families. After all, who would willingly go against all governmental rule and convert to a life of treachery, treason, and treasure. 

“Something catch your amusement?” Aiden questioned. Graciella shot him a confused look.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You had a lustful, almost wishful smile playing upon those plump lips of yours.”

Graciella stared at Aiden, wondering what business it was of his to be checking her appearances out. She was so enthralled by his cocky grin that she did not even notice the magistrate on the docks begin to read off the names of these convicts. 

“Have you ever been to the caribbean Mr. Fletcher?”

“I have, and I must say"“

“Then you know why I had such a look upon my face. That was, is, my home; and I am trying to make my way back.” Graciella interrupted. Aiden shook his head with contempt.

“Yes I have been, a very long time ago. Fortunately it was there that I realized my true calling was not to be in the sainted King’s navy. Graciella, about to reply with a barrage of curious questions about the Navy and it’s atrocious crimes when she froze. Aiden cocked an eyebrow, unsure of what was wrong with this strange woman. 

“What did he say?” Graciella breathed, unable to bring herself to look at the gallows. Aiden shook his head, he had not been listening to anything else around her. As Graciella turned her greyed eyes to look up at Aiden’s stormy blue ones, the voice of the magistrate wafted over the heads of the viewers and into the ears of the young spaniard.

“Señor Pablo Roberto Cofresi of Puerto Rico.” Once the official had completed his list, the slightest of nods gave the executioner all the permission he needed to reach for the lever, pull it, dropping the seven men down through the trapdoors, to their swinging deaths.

A shrill scream erupted into Aiden’s ear. He jumped at the sound and just missed grabbing Graciella’s arm before she took off at a dead, determined run to the front of the crowd. 

“Mueve! Alejate!” Graciella yelled, her eyes welling up with tears as she pushed men and women out of her pathway. She felt as if she was moving mountains by the way people were so slow to move, however, she finally elbowed her way to the front. 

“Papí!!!” Graciella cried, flinging herself towards the seventh man swinging from his noose, feet and wrists still in shackles. One guard grabbed her around her waist, holding her away from the dead.

“Oy! We ‘ave a mad one ‘ere!” 

“Let go of me you English pig!” Graciella shrieked, she saw that her father’s eyes were bulging out of his head as his body gasped for breaths. Graciella’s tears streamed hot down her cheeks as she clawed at the guard, the temptation to bite him crossing her mind. She refused to believe it was truly her father, but she recognized his kind eyes the second they locked with hers. A split moment of recognition and the hint of a faint smile paired with cold tears appeared on Señor Cofresi’s face before his tortured soul departed his body, leaving a mass of bones and flesh swinging in the shadows of the gallows. 


*****


The crowd began to disperse, leaving Graciella to sink to her knees on the hard, cold cobblestones. She sobbed uncontrollably, the feeling of having her heart ripped cruelly from her chest was all she had. The feeling of being a a horrible nightmare, unable to wake up seemed to be her destiny from this point forward. Mr. Douglas, the proper business man that he was, decided that he should quit himself from the hysterical woman as soon as he was able; and slipped away in the swarm of people getting back to their daily routine. Graciella was so lost in her sorrow that she was barely conscious of Aiden arriving at her side and lifting her up by her arm and grasping her by her waist. 

“No…It cannot be true…” Th young woman muttered in disbelief, as she slowly realized that the one memory that she had clung to for so long, was gone. Aiden tried to pull Graciella from the gallows but she wailed even louder. He finally managed to calm the woman down and set her on top of a nearby barrel. 

“Now you straighten yourself out!” He growled into her face, his nose inches away from hers. 

“He’s gone…I planned all of this for a useless purpose.” Graciella whimpered, staring at her boots. Aiden groaned, he really did not want to spend the afternoon playing nanny to this grown businesswoman. Alas, he felt that he should at least help her get her head back into the right place. While Aiden looked around the docks, hoping no one put two and two together from Graciella’s screaming, he saw two rough looking fellows"ones that very well could be crew to the seven pirates"beginning to cut the ropes that still held up the swinging corpses. He waited a moment more for the rest of the straggling crowds to disperse before striding over to the men. One fellow stepped towards Aiden, his left had reaching into his coat. Aiden gestured slightly for the man to step down, he meant no harm. The two spoke in low tones, Aiden pointing to Graciella a few times, caused both men to glance at each other. Another moment of quiet words passed before Aiden walked swiftly back to where he’d left Graciella. 

“I’m not going to sit here and stand by watching innocent"“

“Innocent?!” Aiden snorted, tempted to smack the girl; but she wasn’t one of his men he could push around.

“Sure ye Spanish broads aren’t so stupid that ye actually believe the pirate life is all fun and games?”

Graciella finally looked up into Aiden’s irritated face, a growing look of anger and rage appearing on hers. The fire that Aiden had seen in the past began to creep into the young woman’s blueing eyes. 

“How dare you insult my nationality. You brits are nothing but slimy, ruthless, crude and idiotic pigs!” Graciella spat back. She jumped off the barrel and gave her companion a rough push in the chest. He was barely phased and grasped her again by the shoulders and set her back down. 

“Let me go! Your business is done with. Go away.” 

Aiden shook his head and shifted his gaze to look around"no one was within earshot. 

“Come with me.”

“No. What would make you"“

Aiden rolled his eyes and glared at the woman; she matched his look to perfection. 

“Fine, ye want to play games.” Aiden harshly grabbed Graciella by the elbow and yanked her up as a child and pulled her back to the tavern they had not left too long ago. He led Graciella to a darkened corner and tossed her into a chair. 

“No stop yer blubbering and shut up. I need to tell you something.”

Graciella cocked an eyebrow but did as she was told. Aiden motioned for a page boy to bring them “rum, not that horse piss you lot call ale.”

They sat in silence until two mugs appeared. 

“Are you finished with your act?” Aiden accused, sipping on his drink. His counterpart stared at him before making a show of throwing back some rum and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You had something to say?” She asked nonchalantly. Aiden sighed as he shifted his seat and pulled a small package wrapped in oilskins from his britches pocket.

“I think this belongs to you.” He pushed it across the table towards her. 

“What is it?”

“Just open it you nitwit.” Aiden groaned, his patience with this impossible woman growing thin. Graciella frowned at him"-negative people were not her favorites. The young man leaned back and folded his arms, watching as the woman gingerly opened the package. Inside was a fist sized carved sea turtle painted turquoise with white spots on its shell. Graciella glanced up at Aiden who told her to flip it over. In doing so, Graciella saw a black skull and crossbones next to a scraggily tree. She set the figurine down and stared at it. Minutes passed before either one began to speak. 

“Where did you get this?” Graciella asked quietly, friendlier tones creeping back into her voice. The turtle was one that her father had carved for her when she was a little girl in Puerto Rico. She had given it to him before one of his voyages so that he would always think of her when he felt it in his bag. She had forgotten all about it and seeing it now made her heart sink. Aiden leaned forward and tried to explain things to Graciella. 

“While you were out of your right mind back there, I managed to find out where your father was staying. Perhaps his belonging are still there. He had a room at the Wild Gypsy Tavern just up the road.” Graciella jumped at the thought of being able to find out what else went on before the dreadful execution. 

“Now hold on just a minute! You can’t just waltz in there and demand to see his room. Don’t you know anything about being secretive?”

“Why the hell not? He was my father"“

“And he was killed as a pirate. If you let people know that you’re his daughter they will think you had something to do with his lifestyle. Parliament is not kind to those who choose the life of the sea. I suggest you go undercover. Here, take my cloak.” Aiden handed Graciella his dark chocolate cloak. She looked at him with confusion. 

“Why are you helping me?” 

“Because I once knew your father, and he was like a father to me.” 

That was all that Graciella needed. She grabbed the cloak, threw it over her shoulders, stuffed the turtle in her inside breast pocket and ran out of the tavern. 

Aiden finished the rest of his drink as he watched Graciella run off to do God only knows what, before quickly chugging back the drink she had left with a ‘waste not want not’ attitude. With his free hand, he made a normally unnoticeable hand gesture, swiping at his nose; unnoticeable that is to all but those awaiting for such a signal. An elderly gentleman, with skin and clothes worn thin and darkened form countless days at sea, hobbled over on legs that were no longer of any use on dry land, and slipped into the now vacant seat across from Aiden. 

“So Cap’n that be the lass Masta Cofresi use’ta talk about?” The older man muttered whilst rubbing at the last few whiskers that made his chin their home. 

“Aye, it would seem so Mr. Webb. It would seem so.” Aiden replied, staring deeply into the candlelight. He unconsciously waved the barkeep to bring two additional mugs of rum before speaking up again.

“Are the ships ready to leave?”

“the Rose be ready cap’n but her ladyship will take another day t’ fully stock.” Mr. Webb answered. After a long pause, and a few quick mouthfuls of his new drink, Aiden sighed. 

“Very well. Have the boys follow the lass and should she make a move, have the Rose follow at a crows pace.” He threw his head back and chugged the last of his rum, most of which ended up escaping his mouth and dripping onto his shirt. He wiped his mouth clean on his sleeve and moved to stand up. 

“Finish yer drink mister Webb an go about ya business as normal.” 

“Aye cap’n. Understood.” The old man made a slight salute and grinned his mouthful of teeth as worn as the underside of a boot and the same color at that. As Aiden walked away to make sure the rest of his crew got the message, a few other men slipped from amongst the crowd at the bar to close in around Mr. Webb for their orders from the captain regarding the unbeknownst young lady. 


*****

Two blocks over from the River Thames stood the Wild Gypsy Tavern. It had ten rooms on the second floor and a full pub below. Graciella entered quietly and made her way to the bartender. The man was potbellied and greasy. He grumbled and partially glanced at the newcomer. 

“Aye. Wot d’ye wont mum?”

“I wish to rent out a room sir.” Graciella murmured, peeking out from under her hood. She set what she figured would be the right amount of  English coin on the bar-top. The man looked at it and greedily swept it to towards himself and hollered for the barmaid to show Graciella to her room. A pretty little girl, probably about the age of seventeen crept out from the kitchen. She had long curly black hair in two messy plaits and wore a simple blue dress with a forrest green apron. Graciella also noticed she was barefooted.

“This way mum.” 

The two made their way upstairs and down the hallway. 

“What’s your name?” Graciella asked, attempting to make small talk.

“Marie, mum.”

“Very pretty, my mother’s name was Theresa Marie.” 

The girl said nothing. She stopped at a doorway and opened the door. However, before Graciella could go in, the girl tried to quickly pull the door shut; but not before Graciella noticed a trunk with the initials S.R.C. 

“Wait!” the Spaniard cried, pushing past Marie to stride into the room. In looking around she saw the trunk, a desk with several papers and quills, and a bed that had been recently slept in.

“Who rented this room?”

Marie was silent. 

“Answer me or I shall show you an amount of pain you could never have imagined possible!” Graciella threatened menacingly. She was even scared of herself that she could say such a thing. Marie cowered in the corner but began to speak timidly. 

“H-his name was Robert…a-a spanish man…He loved me.”

Graciella’s jaw dropped, upon the realization that the girl in front of her was not just the barmaid, but had to have been her father’s mistress. She had seen the look of infatuation on a young girl’s face before and immediately recognized that on Marie’s face. She sat down on the bed and stared at the worn down floorboards. Finally she looked up with misty eyes to see Marie had shut the door and was standing with her back against it.

“You say he loved you. Did you spend much time with him?”

Marie nodded shyly.

“Yes mum. We spent three months together until they took him away. I visited him once at the prison. He told me I should move on with my life. That he could n-no long l-love me.” The girl’s voice began to waver; she was about to start crying. Graciella put her head in her hands and rubbed her temples. 

“You do not know who I am?”

“Oh yes mum I do though! You’re Gracie.”

At the mention of her childhood nickname, Graciella’s head shot up and she stared at the girl.

“He…he spoke of me?”

Marie nodded, slowly coming over to sit next to Graciella. 

“You’re his daughter. He spoke of you often. Said he wanted to find you again. You and your mother. But then they came in the night and took him…he had just made love to me and we were on the verge of awake and sleep.”

Graciella waved her hand at the girl. She had no want to hear about the physical relations that this creature and her father once had. She leaned back and thought for a moment; she had this growing urge inside of her to right the wrongs committed against her family. 

Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. She sat up and took one of Marie’s hands. 

“Are you well taken care of here? Do you like it?”

“No mum. I want to be away from this awful place. Robert was my way of escaping…but now he is gone.”

Graciella pursed her lips in contemplation; she was quite unsure of if she should even make this offer to the young girl. It would be not only putting her own life in danger, but also that of an innocent child. Yet, perhaps she was not so innocent as one would seem"she did have relations with a pirate. Graciella took a deep breath and leaned in close to the girl.

“Marie, do you want to come with me? If you really loved my father, do you want to avenge his death with me?” The young woman whispered,  being certain any busybodies listening at the door could not hear.

The young girl’s mouth opened, too stunned to say much of anything. She stammered for a minute, trying to get words out before she dropped her eyes and nodded silently. A menacing smile crept onto Graciella’s face.

“Good, then it is settled.” She got up and went over to her father’s trunk. Marie made a move to stop this stranger from going through his effects, however she remembered she was his daughter; who was she to tell the older woman what not to do. Graciella knelt down, and reached to open the trunk. It was then that she noticed how her hands were shaking. Perhaps it was the fact that she had not touched anything belonging to her father, besides the turtle, in many years. Lifting up the lid, she saw a dusty navy blue coat with faded brass buttons, a thoroughly worn cavalier hat with a beautiful ostrich plum in it, a couple of maps rolled up, and a smaller chest that was locked. Graciella ran her fingers over the carved wood. The inside of the lid had depictions of a ship being tossed about by waves. In the bottom right corner there was a rock with a mermaid combing her hair sitting atop it. In the upper lefthand corner was a compass. 

Marie watched silently, wondering if she should possibly comfort the young woman. 

“Are you alright mum?” She asked timidly.

“Yes. You can called me Gracie, if you would like.”

Marie smiled, hoping Graciella would be a lifelong friend"she needed one of those. Graciella continued rummaging through the trunk and found a set of clothes in the bottom that consisted of a pair of canvas britches, a light cotton shirt, and a felt vest. She pulled them out and tossed them to Marie.

“Here, put these on. Quickly! I have a plan but we musn’t speak of it here. Spaniards are still not too well liked in England and I do not wish to extend my stay much longer.” She got up and went to the door, a hand on the latch. Marie nodded and quickly stripped to her knickers and pulled on the clothes.

"ok I'm ready." Marie said, clutching her old dress to her chest. Graciella nodded approvingly.

"we will have to leave the trunk here, unless...I will have one of my men retrieve it."

Marie shot Graciella a questioning glance. The Spaniard laughed heartily.

"My ship is docked at the Port of london. We were en route to the colonies then down to the islands. But now, it seems as if we may have a change in course." She cracked open the door and peeked outside, the hallway was empty aside from some raucous noise wafting up from the tavern below. Graciella motioned for Marie to stay ten paces behind her, so not to attract attention.

Down the creaking steps the two went, skipping right out the front door into the sun before the bartender could get his nose out of a rather large bosom that hopefully belonged to his wife. Graciella and Marie turned down a nearby alleyway and stopped to catch their breath and relish in the adrenaline rush. The older woman glanced behind them" spying no one but a maiden wrapped up in the arms of a gentleman dressed in all black.

"We will head to the nearest undertaker's office. Do you know where that is? Surely pirates bodies are not worth a farthing to science." 

Marie nodded and pointed down the alley, "down there to the left mum"er"Ms. Gracie." She sheepishly looked down at her still bare toes.

"hmm, that will have to be fixed." Mumbled Graciella as they began to head towards the office. Little did she know, the man in black had silently slit the young urchin’s throat. He caught her limp body and dragged it behind a nearby cart where he dumped it. He glanced about him, no witnesses. He wiped his dagger clean, stuck it back into it’s silver sheath before moving almost catlike to follow Graciella and Marie. 


*****


Nearly twenty minutes later, the mood in London became thick with smoky anger as the mid afternoon sun shined down upon busy streets; and any person who happened to be walking past the undertaker’s office would hear shrill screaming followed by the banging and crashing of items being thrown at something or someone. Graciella, followed by Marie, stormed out of the building, Graciella’s felt hat in hand, as well as a jingling purse filled with what was now her own personal gold stash. Marie hastened to keep up with her new friend as the two made their way through the bustling street vendors. Marie had finally caught up to the woman and leaned over to catch her breath when Graciella spun on her heels and slammed her fist into the nearest wooden beam, making a lovely cracking sound. 

"Ten years I have not seen my father! Ten goddamned years!" Her coat tails flew about her as she paced back and forth, her hat falling to the dry cobblestones as she dropped it. She sighed and rested her head against a wall, her golden umber hair spilling in waves around her face. 

“I do not understand this…why would they not release his body to me? To top it off, that monster of a person chiding me? Treating me as an imbecile!” 

When Graciella had previously inquired about her father’s body, an old beggar woman had been huddled in the corner. She had let out a cackling laugh and addressed Graciella, “dear child…pirates don’ get good christian funerals…their demented bodies git thrown into the nearest pit with the rest of the mongrels.”

Marie shook her head, she was not experienced enough with the dead, especially pirates, to give much of an opinion. 

“I know not mum…” Marie’s curly black hair blew into her eyes with a passing breeze, hiding the tears that finally let loose as they slid down her tanned skin. Graiciella squeezed her own eyes shut, willing herself not to give in to sorrow. She heaved a sigh and straightened up. Turning to Marie, Graciella’s eyes turned cold, and filled with hatred for the men on the trial jury. 

“If I ever find out the names of the men responsible…so help me God I will seek my vengeance. I need a drink before we go.” Marie tried to see the connection between a drink and death but she, a young simple minded girl, could not. She pulled her hair back into a pony tail and jammed her cap back on her head. She bent down and picked up Graciella’s hat and placed it back on her.

“The Rusty Anchor is just that a’way, shall we go there?” 

Graciella peered at Marie from under the brim of her cavalier, not sure she really wanted to go back to that place; nonetheless, she nodded. The two made their way back through the crowded streets to the pub Graciella had left Aiden at. She did wonder, as they passed under the wooden sign swinging above the doorway, if the mysterious man who had pulled her from the verge of insanity, would still be in that dark corner.



© 2016 S. Waldo


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Added on May 2, 2016
Last Updated on May 2, 2016
Tags: pirates, pirate, adventure, spain, caribbean, sea, ships, sailing, england, fiction, history


Author

S. Waldo
S. Waldo

Huntsville, TX



About
I first fell in love with writing when I was in middle school. Throughout high school, college, and my post-graduate life, I began to write more and more. I ventured into poetry, and even started two .. more..

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A Chapter by S. Waldo