BootyARe05202014 Read online

  “Ah, Milady! Tis great to see you awake and taking breath.” His size blocked what small light was available to me, and he hovered over me so I turned my head upwards as much as I could and snarled at him.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked clearly and holding my comments regarding the vermin till later.

  He held a small cup to my lips and I turned away from it. “If you don’t drink something you will die. I’ve seen it happen,” he said but then added, “not but a sip of course. Case’n ye’ve got sometin’ with a hole in it.”

  “No more medicine,” I managed and he responded with a tender touch along my spine. He was blatantly touching my bare skin and taking no measures to hide the fact that he was enjoying it.

  “Ah yes, I must ask ye’r pardon for that, Milady, but I had no interest in listening to you writhe in pain through the night during our trip.”

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked again, though weaker by the moment.

  “We are here! Dropped anchor already. In a few minutes the men will be here to carry ye to shore. I wanted to warn you that they’ll have to tie ye pretty tight to the board they made. Can’t take no chance of moving anything at all, bones and such ye know.”

  “Is there a healer here? I imagine I saw one yet I don’t imagine he said that I wouldn’t walk again.” I hadn’t been completely oblivious and was beginning to concern that this was all some elaborate charade to kidnap me. If my pain wasn’t giving him creditability I’d have known it to be true.

  His light fingers retreated from my skin leaving me with a shiver of goose bumps that quickly spread down my thighs. “Aye, we brought in a healer. An English healer is not worth a grain of salt. I think he fancies himself a witch; he said he’d seen in a vision that I’d marry! Ha! Imagine a wench stupid enough to do that!” he shrugged with a silly grin. “I’m takin’ you to a real healer, someone who actually knows and studies the body. It’s the only way to get ye back on ye’r feet, Milady.”

  “And why should ye care a horse’s tail about my feet?” I snapped back, pleased with the anger level in my weak voice. Instead of intimidating him my comment seemed to inspire him and he moved back over me and ran the tips of his fingers up the soles of my feet. I shriveled.

  “See that’s good I think, that ye can feel ye’r feet,” he mused putting his thumb and forefinger across his lips in thought. “Yes, I think that’s a real good sign.”

  Fury flared within me and I wished that there weren’t binds holding me face down on this dirty mattress or I’d shred his face with my fingernails. It would be difficult with the scruffiness of his unshaven face, but I’d like to dig my way to skin until I drew blood. The sound of loud footsteps approached and the noise of something heavy banging along the walls of the companionway, my focus moved towards the doorway.

  My captor moved out of the small room and allowed his men to enter. The space he jailed me wasn’t much but a closet, and when filled with four sailors it became even more damp, dark and odorous than before. A seaman took pity on me, frowning brazenly at the Captain who stood just outside the door and merely shrugged in response. He pulled my skirts down past my thighs in disapproval. When they untied my wrists and ankles I remained stock still; already I’d learned that this single position was one that I could bare. The most fractural of movements shot bolts of icy fire through my lower back and it was a fairly quick lesson to have learned. I tensed as they prepared to touch me, already fortifying myself for the upcoming pain. Yet as they slid the thin board they’d fashioned beneath me I felt only the barest of movement. Someone had put a great deal of thought, care and planning into moving me and their preparations proved successful. They hastened to tie me to the board they’d fashioned via small holes carved through the board, they worked quickly tying strips of sheets around me until I was bundled like a papoose. It occurred to me then that should one ever be in need of being tied; a seaman is certainly the best choice to handle such. Tilting and turning my bulky contraption through the tight confines of the ship they managed to bring me to deck with relatively little pain. The sun was barely rising over the horizon, but I caught a glimpse of an island quite close by. I tucked the outline of the coast into my memory for when the time came for me to escape this renegade bunch.

  I was lowered in a sling onto a small boat with my captor and his cohorts in crime. Once ashore they lifted me above their heads and walked straight into the thick wood beyond the beach. Leaves and small branches slapped across my face as they carried me in my papoose through the forest so that I was only able to catch my breath when we came into a clearing.

  “Good lord, James, what the hell are you doing? Is that a woman you’ve got bundled up there?” It was a female voice and I said a silent prayer of thanks for the strong English sound of it.

  “She fell on the street, gave her behind a whomping, may have broken it even,” The giant announced.

  “Are you saying she broke her arse boy?”

  I heard a deep chuckle next to me as the men lowered me through a tall doorway and into a weathered farmhouse. Immediately the smell of warm cooked food sent my stomach rolling. “You boys set her down right here on the kitchen table and then get your sandy feet out of my house this instant,” the woman commanded. The brawny sailors complied as if fully reprimanded; I watched the entire freakish parade with a wary eye.

  Nearly instantly I heard the slicing of the linen that bound me to the board, “You didn’t give her anything to eat or drink since the accident, did you?”

  James took a loaf of bread from the counter and shoved a large pinch of it into his mouth. Shaking his head he struggled to talk with his mouth full, “Just a few swallows to get the medicine in her and no food, in case a lung was pierced or something.”

  “Good, then come over here and sweep up these shreds of sheet, I can wash those and reuse them to stuff pillows. Alright my dear, don’t move a muscle while I examine you.” Again my skirts were lifted to expose my bare body. With the slit of her knife she cut my shirt straight up, exposing my upper back to her and my captor’s clear vision. I felt the heat rise through me though I was already being conditioned to humiliation.

  “Now let’s see what we have here…” Boney fingers prodded my back, my sides and my legs; each bone was inspected carefully as I silently watched my captor sweep the floor below me with a broom. Finally the fingers ceased and the woman stood back, patting her lips with her finger in the same fashion the giant had. “Hmm, well there’s nothing broken, a good amount of bruising, but then again her skin hasn’t seen much daylight so it looks much worse than it truly is.”

  “Can anything be done?” the giant asked.

  Again she tapped her lips, “One of the books you brought me from the orient had some treatments for this kind of injury. I believe it’s upstairs near the bed. Will you run and gather it for me, dear?”

  Heavy stomping ensued out of my range of vision and I must have flinched at the sound of something so large bounding up the stairs. The woman’s hand went to my shoulder, “Now, now little bird, James is nothing to bother yourself over. He’s an overgrown puppy that’s all.”

  “A pup’s teeth are razor sharp ma’am,” I stated for the record and this elicited a charming laugh from the healer.

  “Truer words were never spoken. Nevertheless, with those quacks in town it’s a wonder they didn’t leech you to death. It may be that James has saved your life, my dear, so I wouldn’t be so eager to bite the hand.” She turned away to relieve a pot of water boiling on a surprisingly modern jamb stove. I took wonder in how this woman had come to own such an elaborate luxury but dismissed it when the loud footsteps returned.

  “He, he kidnapped me!” I muttered.

  “What?” The woman spun from the stove with alacrity. “James Bonney, tell me this isn’t the truth!” she yelled with much more intimidation.

  The giant man mumbled and handed her the book. He sidled next to her and whispered something before resuming his position with th
e broom. I stared wide eyed as the woman pondered what he’d told her then shook her head sadly at my state of affairs. “Oh well, never mind that dear, let’s see…” She meandered through the book, flipping pages until she landed on the one she sought, “Yes, yes. James, come here.”

  The man moved to my side and waited for instruction. “I need each ankle tied firmly to the bottom of the board, take care and use this soft cloth inside the ties so they don’t chafe.”

  I listened in detail as it appeared that I had no say in any matter regarding what they were going to do. With unsettling haste my ankles were again bound to the wooden board.

  “Now, I’m going to keep my fingers on the injury and I want you to put your hands on her hips and pull towards the head. No, No! Not quickly you huge oaf, slowly, tenderly as if you were foaling a calf. Yes, that’s it James, just a slow, constant pull.”

  I heard rather than felt the snapping of my spine, then as if by witchery something in my back loosened. Like the removal of a festered splinter. I felt the realignment of my back and the subsequent relaxing of the muscles. “Oohh,” I moaned as the pain sank away.

  “Hmm, well that is interesting. Has the pain subsided, child?” The woman leaned near my face to judge my expression.

  I nodded and offered a faint smile. Suddenly the sharpness of my pain dissolved and was replaced with soreness, the bruised feeling one has after a nasty tumble. Muscles twitched seemingly glad to be restored to their normal location and my other senses began to move to the forefront, my stomach growled.

  “Ha! Well she’s hungry so that’s a good thing! James, fix her a bowl of that broth there on the stove and a few small shreds of bread.” And the woman began untying my ankles again, muttering all the while.

  “Interesting theories these Orientals have you know. They also believe that sticking tiny pins into your skin can solve many pains. Not so sure about all that but the decompression sure seems to work. Can you move your hands?”

  I responded by wiggling my fingers; finding that successful I quickly reached behind me in an effort to cover myself. Shreds of my skirts and blouse brought back in my hand proved that to be an effort wasted.

  “Oh, dear. I suppose we do need to cover you!” She meandered off returning with a worn but at least clean quilt and covered my bare back.

  “Thank ye,” I said absorbing its warmth and now growing anxious to turn myself over.

  “Come help me turn her over now, she seems in a hurry to eat. Can’t blame the lass on that account.”

  With my captor’s assistance they rolled me onto my back. My grimace caused them to stand back from the board and allowed me a moment to catch my breath. I lay flat giving my aching lower back time to adjust to the movement. When no new pain presented I opened my eyes and nodded, “Can I be moved to something softer?”

  The woman chuckled, “Yes of course. James, carry her to the settee and arrange her while I finish her supper.”

  Bending low he scooped me into his arms with as little effort as he would a newborn babe. He gathered me closely to his chest and glanced down, “Okay?” he asked almost timidly.

  Confused by the tenderness in his eyes, my lips moved and I prepared to say something only forgot what it was, “I…uh…” His eyes were the same green-blue of the Carolina Ocean, and various strands of bleached blond curls rolled across his forehead as he looked down at me, I completely lost task of telling him what I truly thought of his behavior. As a matter of fact, it was only after two bowls of broth and a cup of warmed brandy that I regained my sensibilities.

  “If you’re holding me for ransom then I’m afraid ye’ve sorely mistaken me for someone of wealth,” I said clearheaded.

  “Ransom? Bah! Oh how you youngins can make an old woman laugh.” The woman cackled. “You’ve taken my boy to be a pirate then, have you?”

  Politeness caused me to shake my head no and then reconsidering, “Why yes, he is a pirate. And a criminal to boot!”

  James’s deep chuckle penetrated the room, “I’m afraid this is the lass that saw me killin’ that beast Murphy,” he explained.

  “Ah, I see then, no wonder she thinks you to be a criminal then. Did you collect the reward?”

  James patted his trouser belt and grinned, then turned to me with outstretched hand, “James Bonney ma’am. Bounty hunter, but only sometimes pirate.” He smiled conspiratorially at me presenting a full set of white teeth.

  I stared at the hand for a moment then refused it with a huff, “So you do not deny having committed murder then?”

  Again he laughed and I seemed to be the cause of great humor to him, “Milady,” he straightened, “That man was found guilty of rape, treason and um… unspeakable acts involving certain chattel owned by a land holder in Virginia. I did this country a favor by relieving us of him.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at me deliberately, waiting for an apology for my assault on his reputation no doubt.

  Blinking, I returned his strong gaze, “Murder for money is still murder.”

  He huffed and puffed, stomping slightly on the floorboards below but I closed my eyes to him, “I think I need a bit of rest now if ye don’t mind.”

  *-*-*-*-*

  “Here you go. Wake up little sparrow, I’ve got some real breakfast for you now.”

  My eyes opened to the woman but quickly scanned the room for signs of my captive. He was gone. “Where’s James?” I asked pushing my hair from my face.

  “Back to town,” she said as she arranged the wooden tray on my lap. “Went to tell your family about you.”

  “What?” I straightened with alarm. By this time my father would consider me kidnapped, raped and dishonored. I was of no use to him now with the exception of emotion and few plantation owners have the luxury of feelings these days. My father could easily disown me now without the slightest scratch on his reputation, and it would serve me right if he did. Imagine that I’ve allowed myself kidnapped, injured and taken to some wilderness to be tended to by a farm woman! My father, the man who tossed away everything he’d known to provide me and my mother a dignified existence and I repay him with stupidity. I sank further into the settee and bowed my head in shame.

  “Don’t trouble yourself, wee one. Women the world throughout have tried to snag my boy for their bed. ‘Tis the time for celebration, not pity!”

  “Celebration? Pray tell why would I celebrate being scorned for life?”

  “What in the blazes are you talking about girl? My James went to ask your father for your hand, course that’s only after I explained to him that it was the respectable thing to do.”

  “Respectable? Hand?” I felt dizzy again and grabbed for the cup on the tray, slurping it down most un-lady like until it was empty. “Ma’am…” I began.

  “I suspect you should be calling me Mo’am by now,” the woman interrupted.

  “Ma’am, I assure ye that my father will not grant a marriage betwixt me and a pirate.” With that I did hold the slightest bit of confidence; nevertheless something in the back of my mind irked me.

  The woman, tall and robust with motherly intentions stood her ground, “Young lady! I assure you that your father has no choice in the matter. Through no fault of your own, mind you. You’re a disgraced woman. No courtly gentleman will be seeking your comforts in the future. James will present your father with a sum commiserate to your value, and I’m confident that he will return successful. He always does.”

  Overcome with shock I stuttered, “Is, is he buying me?” I managed.

  “Posh! I will not tolerate such crude discussion in my home! Humans were not meant to own other humans; it’s barbaric and un-Godly!” The woman huffed around me now, fluffing my pillows and spreading a linen napkin across my chest, ‘He’s paying your marriage tax, sparrow.”

  “Marriage tax! I’ve no intention of marrying a murderer!” I exclaimed with my face now burning in rage.

  “Similar reaction as to the one I got from James at first until I explained it t
o him. Men require a great deal of explaining, you understand,” she said patiently.

  “Perhaps I do as well.”

  “Well then, this really isn’t about you now is it, wee sparrow? This is about me. All my life I’ve scrubbed and worked to make that boy what he is.” She fiddled with several small stray hairs that’d fallen from her kerchief as she spoke. “But I’m not going to live forever, every day the aches get worse. James and his men will be lost without me, and that won’t do. It’s time to start trainin’ someone to take my place.”

  “Train me? To do what, pray tell?”

  Now the woman grinned, a few of her teeth missing on the right side, “Well there’s cooking, cleaning, tending to their pains and then there’s the island to handle. No short amount of work I tell you.”

  I scoffed, “And why would I chose a life of hard labor when my father has a warm plantation bed set aside for me as long as I shall sleep in it?” And the thought of spending my remaining years in my soft bed with Hettie was rather pleasant in fact.

  “Well now that’s a matter of finances, wee one, and nothing you should concern yourself with.”

  It came clear to me in a rumble of thunder, my father needed money desperately. The disrepair of the plantation and the meager funds that returned to us via the rice patties did not come close to the amount needed. If James offered him a considerable amount, enough to turn the plantation around… then it was possible that my father would agree. My heart sank in my chest and the aches of the bruising near my arse overwhelmed me. Yes, it was very possible that my father would agree. I was, after all, disgraced publically. I’d been taken in broad daylight aboard a pirate ship in search of medical help, regardless of the reason I’d been permanently shamed. The key words were that I was taken aboard a pirate ship. Imaginations would run rampant in Charles Towne and the gossipers would have their work cut out for them.